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Tips For Hotel Etiquette

Staying in a hotel can be a fun and luxurious experience, but it requires consideration of the guests around you. The Onion presents its guide to hotel etiquette:

Report: Look How Big Player Is Next To Sideline Reporter

GREEN BAY, WI—Marveling at the pronounced disparity in size during the postgame interview, sources confirmed Sunday that, Jesus Christ, just look at how big Houston Texans nose tackle Vince Wilfork is next to the CBS sideline reporter.

John Kerry Throws Vine Over Pit Of Quicksand To Save Child Companion

PANGSAU, MYANMAR—Thinking quickly to thwart disaster as he ventured deep into the Myanmar rainforest to meet with State Councilor Aung San Suu Kyi, Secretary of State John Kerry threw a vine over a pit of quicksand to save the life of his 12-year-old Moroccan companion, Drumstick, sources confirmed Monday.

Report: This Movie Old Enough That They Might Have Actually Hurt Dog

GARDNER, MA—Realizing the movie was probably made years before any sort of mandatory industry oversight, nervous viewers watching a Turner Classic Movies airing of ‘Home On The Range’ Sunday night told reporters that the classic western was old enough that the filmmakers might have actually hurt the dog that starred in the motion picture.

Best Sports Video Games Of All Time

With titles such as ‘FIFA 17’ and ’NBA 2K17’ expected to be popular gifts this holiday season, Onion Sports looks back on some of the best sports video games of all time.

Can Trump Follow Through On His Campaign Promises?

President-elect Donald Trump made a variety of lofty promises during his campaign as part of a pledge to “make America great again.” The Onion looks at several of these promises and evaluates whether Trump will be willing or able to follow through on them.
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I Do Not Trust My Man-Servant

Over the course of my 115 years as a news-paper-man, I have come to realize the value of loyalty... It amounts to zilch!

Any bonds I have formed with my fellow man have been based upon a combination of fear and certain judiciously applied monies: My Swiss Guard are paid mercenaries; my physician, Doc McGillicuddy, will only plunge elbow-deep into my ancient viscera in exchange for lavish payments in smuggled Krugerrands; and the services of my pendulously gutted pin-head nurse are secured alternately with beatings and endowments of shiny gilded trinkets. Parasites, all! The closest thing I have had to a loyal companion over the years has been my man-servant Standish.

Yet I can no longer even count on him. As you may recall, while temporarily impecunious earlier this year, Standish and I enjoyed the brief succor of the Burger-King. Standish decided to put a portion of his share of the alms given to us by the celebrated Plenipotentiary Of Meat toward playing the numbers-lottery. In short order, Standish had won $187 million. Yet he offered me none of it!

Still infuriated at the flagrant cheek of this mere domestic, I recently requested the services of my solicitor, Beavers. As we sat together in my study, I endeavored to make the case that because Standish was still in my employ during our exodus, any monies incurred by him were essentially mine; there-fore, so were his lottery-winnings.

To this, Beavers merely chortled. "My dear Mr. Zweibel," he said, "have you never heard of the Fourteenth Amendment?" I said of course I had, but I didn't under-stand why that great and just measure banning women from wearing those immodest bloomer-trousers had any-thing to do with the matter at hand. But Beavers replied that the amendment actually entitled all native-born Americans to equal protection under the law.

Devious shyster! He is probably receiving a lucrative sum from Standish to mislead me. You see, Standish has learned a thing or two from my own back-stabbing acts of rapine ferocity, and doubtless he is applying it to his own affairs. I shall give him a fort-night to confess his treacherous intent, and if he doesn't confess, I'll order him to take his own life. If he refuses, I shall indulge in my own skullduggery to gain his bonanza. I would cackle wickedly right now, but I lost my laugh permanently during a bout of whooping-fever in 1907.

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