I Live In Fear

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Vol 36 Issue 35

Congolese Civil War Buff Fights In Civil War

BRAZZAVILLE, CONGO–Jean-Pierre Uyoya, a longtime Congolese Civil War enthusiast, was excited to enlist in the Congolese Liberation Movement army Monday. "I can't wait to participate in my first Civil War enactment," said Uyoya, polishing up his authentic 1999-era Uzi. "I've been a huge Congolese Civil War buff ever since it started in 1997." On Friday, Uyoya's army unit will march north for a historically accurate ambush of the Hutu-controlled village of Gemena.

Early-Morning Jogger Pities Everyone Still Sleeping

OCEANSIDE, CA–During her daily four-mile, 5 a.m. run, jogger Andrea Kallen expressed pity for all the people still in their soft, warm beds Tuesday. "I cannot understand how anyone would choose to be conked out during the most glorious time of the entire day," said Kallen, 25, straining up a hill as the sky turned from a dark cobalt blue to purple. "I feel so bad for all those poor people who are missing out on this just to get an extra four or five hours of sleep."

Eighth-Grader Drinks At Twelfth-Grade Level

CARLSBAD, NM–Joshua Halley, an eighth-grader at Millvale Middle School, consumes alcohol at a 12th-grade level, sources reported Monday. "This precocious youngster shows a drinking aptitude far beyond that of the average 13-year-old," Millvale principal Charles Meckler said. "Beer, wine, vodka, whiskey–Joshua can handle them all." Meckler said that upon high-school graduation, Halley can expect a full scholarship from his choice of the nation's top party schools.

Area Man Could Have Sworn Randy Newman Sang Welcome Back, Kotter Theme

SPRINGFIELD, MO–Television viewer Michael Grigg was stunned to learn Monday that Lovin' Spoonful frontman John Sebastian, not Randy Newman, composed and sang the Welcome Back, Kotter theme song. "Seriously? John Sebastian?" Grigg said upon being informed by friend Brian Richards while watching the popular '70s sitcom on Nick At Nite. "God, I would have bet money that it was Randy Newman. Especially with the piano and everything." Added an incredulous Grigg: "You have to admit, it sounds a lot more like 'Short People' than 'Do You Believe In Magic?'"

Fame Sexually Transmitted

LONDON–Guy Ritchie, Madonna's British boyfriend, has sexually contracted fame from the pop superstar, Ritchie's physician confirmed Monday. "It would appear that Mr. Ritchie, a previously obscure director with just two films to his credit, has become famous through sexual contact with Madonna," Dr. Ian Woolsey-Lodge said. "As a fame carrier himself, he now can be found on Entertainment Tonight and in People magazine, even when not with Madonna." Woolsey-Lodge said Ritchie forever runs the risk of any future offspring being born famous.

Bush Vows To Do 'That Thing Gore Just Said, Only Better'

BOSTON–Responding to debate opponent Al Gore's promise to pay off the national debt in 12 years by devoting $2 of projected surpluses toward debt reduction for every $1 used for tax cuts, George W. Bush vowed to do "that thing Gore just said, only better" during Tuesday's presidential debate. "Yeah, that debt thing," the Republican candidate said during his allotted 90-second rebuttal. "I'm going to do that, but, like, 10 times better." Bush added that, as president, he would "do all that stuff Gore said about education and the environment, but my version would work twice as good."

The Abortion Pill

Last week, the FDA approved the controversial French abortion pill RU-486, permitting non-surgical abortions in the U.S. for the first time and sparking protest from pro-life advocates. What do you think?
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Just Like Everything Else!: Fox 8 p.m. EDT/7 p.m. ABC Pete's wife is still on him about building that darn shed, these kids are going to be the death of Sheila and Dave, and the hot next-door neighbor is up in EVERYBODY'S business! Sunday nights on ABC couldn't be any more familiar!

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Little League Pitcher Just Getting Fucking Shelled

RED BANK, NJ—After watching the 11-year-old give up the fourth straight double that inning, sources confirmed Sunday afternoon that local Little League pitcher Dustin Bauer is getting absolutely fucking shelled out there.

I Live In Fear

Like many successful and wealthy plutocrats, I am often asked by one or another of you god-damned sheep exactly what it is to which I credit my good fortune. My reply, which I give unhesitatingly, is always the same: Do you call being a wheelchair-bound, half-withered, leprotic corpse-man, whose great iron-lung pumps him like a steam-calliope day in and day out, "good fortune"? You are an envious pack of wheedling, braying jack-asses!

But I stray from my point. There is one quality I possess in spades which separates me from the misled cattle that is man-kind. But it is neither my low animal cunning, nor my ruth-less attitude, nor my willingness to pimp out my own sister for a fast dollar. It is not even the fact that I was born into incredible wealth and privilege and raised in a stress-infused and Byzantine family. What makes T. Herman Zweibel a force to be reckoned with is his capacity to feel ever-present, mind-wracking, pants-shitting fear.

Yes, fear! Most blessed and useful of human drives! From the moment I wake in the morning hearing the half-mad shrieks of my hideously strong pin-headed nurse to the moment I fall into fit-ful sleep dreaming of fanged peach halves chasing me down red velvet halls, I am in a constant state of terror. On a base level, it has saved my very life count-less times: My fear of the insidious, color-less, odor-less gas known as "oxygen" kept me from drawing a single breath in 1918 and doubt-less prevented me from succumbing to that year's devastating influenza epidemic. Today alone, I have feared Standish, a chest of drawers, the word "friable," and a pair of slippers. I can only believe that these fears have kept me alive.

In the realm of business, it has been an unparalleled boon. Fear, after all, is at the root of hatred and anger, the two empire-building tools which have spurred me to swell the Zweibel coffers to a state of absolute, unfettered corpulence. Like all good capitalists, I fear and despise competition and have therefore destroyed whatever rivals poke their heads up. As a result, today, The Onion remains the last news-paper in the Republic.

Like all useful tools, fear is a double-edged sword. I make a point of motivating every last one of my employees, from the scullery-maid to the President of the United States, with fear, as well as its constant companion, threats and derision. In fact, I believe that if you begin living your life in fear, you will be a better and more successful Onion reader. And if you do not, I will have your arms torn from their sockets.

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