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I Wish To Go To Heaven

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Hillary Clinton Holds Infant Grandson Upside Down By Ankle In Front Of Convention Crowd

‘Family,’ Candidate Says

PHILADELPHIA—Seeking to make her case to the nation’s voters as she accepted her party’s presidential nomination Thursday night, Hillary Clinton reportedly began her headlining address at the Democratic National Convention by holding her infant grandson, Aidan, upside down by his ankle and firmly intoning the word “Family” in front of the assembled crowd.

Hillary Clinton Waiting In Wings Of Stage Since 6 A.M. For DNC Speech

PHILADELPHIA—Saying she arrived hours before any of the members of the production crew, sources confirmed Thursday that presidential nominee Hillary Clinton has been waiting in the wings of the Wells Fargo Center stage since six o’clock this morning to deliver her speech at the Democratic National Convention.

Depressed, Butter-Covered Tom Vilsack Enters Sixth Day Of Corn Bender After Losing VP Spot

WASHINGTON—Saying she has grown increasingly concerned about her husband’s mental and physical well-being since last Friday, Christie Vilsack, the wife of Agriculture Secretary Tom Vilsack, told reporters Thursday that the despondent, butter-covered cabinet member has entered the sixth day of a destructive corn bender after being passed over for the Democratic vice presidential spot.

Superfoods: Myth Vs. Fact

Though the media often heralds certain foods as cancer-fighting or immune-building, many of these claims don’t hold up to scientific scrutiny. The Onion separates the myths from the facts regarding so-called superfoods

Cannon Overshoots Tim Kaine Across Wells Fargo Center

PHILADELPHIA—Noting that the vice presidential nominee had been launched nearly 100 feet into the air during his entrance into the Democratic National Convention Wednesday night, sources reported that the cannon at the back of the Wells Fargo Center had accidentally overshot Tim Kaine across the arena, sending him crashing to the stage several dozen feet beyond the erected safety net.
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I Wish To Go To Heaven

Booooo! It is I, the ghost of Herman Ulysses Zweibel, founder of The Onion, or, as it was known in my day, The Mercantile-Onion. Booooo!

As you know, my ghostly wraith roams the earth, chained to a printing-press. Every now and then, I haunt this space, whether to complain about my son T. Herman's abysmal incompetence, Henry Clay, or the skyrocketing price of calico. But this time, I am delighted to bear wonderful news: After a century of purgatorial wandering, the Lord is reviewing my petition for admittance into Heaven!

I was first up for membership shortly after my death in 1891. I was confident that my good deeds were plentiful enough to easily usher me past the golden gates. By jiggledy, I was the first white man to bring the cotton-gin into the Nebraska Territory, I played host to the annual barn-dance, and I once rescued a turkey from a raging cyclone! I also played the spinnet very well.

Unfortunately, my sins were perceived as overshadowing my good works. The Lord did not look well upon the time I threw a Franklin stove at Daniel Webster. But the fiend deserved it! He said I was a common rabble-rouser who twisted the truth. Besides, I missed, and he escaped unscathed.

There was also that troublesome matter of my decimating 970,000 bison for their hides. But upon what else was I supposed to print copies of The Mercantile-Onion? That fancy store-bought paper was costly back then!

What really tipped the scales against me, however, was the fact that I wasn't Mormon. Turns out, the Mormons are God's chosen people. Land o'Goshen, how was I supposed to know that?

I hope and pray I shall be allowed to shrug off this massive printing-press and enter heaven at long last. If so, I will flutter about the clouds with nary a care in the world. I will once again see my blessed mother and meet my child-hood hero, John C. Calhoun. I will have slaves and a fine coach with gilded wheels. Best of all, I will be able to rain fire and pestilence upon that bastard Henry Clay, on whom the Roman tyrants have nothing. Wish me luck!

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