adBlockCheck

Just Wait 'Til I Get These Fucking Rubber Bands Off

Top Headlines

Recent News

What’s Inside Trump’s Tax Returns

Donald Trump’s aides have confirmed that the Republican presidential nominee will not release his tax returns despite numerous public calls for him to honor the expectation of transparency for presidential hopefuls. Here are some of the potentially damning contents that Trump prefers not to release to the public

NASA Launches First Cordless Satellite

CAPE CANAVERAL, FL—In what experts are calling a breakthrough achievement that is poised to revolutionize American space exploration and telecommunications, NASA announced Friday it has successfully launched its first cordless satellite into orbit.

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.
End Of Section
  • More News
Up Next

Just Wait 'Til I Get These Fucking Rubber Bands Off

Oh, man. You just caught yourself a whole mess of trouble, pal. Believe it. I don't think you realize who you're dealing with here. You might have me in the tank for now, but just wait 'til I get these fucking rubber bands off.

That was some cheap move, capturing me in some trap. You didn't have the guts to come looking for me yourself, 'cause you know you wouldn't last five minutes in the depths where I live. But you knew exactly what would make me come sniffing around, and you set me up good. Well, chalk one up for you, mister, and enjoy it, 'cause it's the only one you're gonna get.

Come on. Take the fucking rubber bands off, I fucking dare you. Just the left one, the one on my little claw. I'll make you wish you were never born.

I know what you think of me. I disgust you. You don't like my kind. I'm a bottom feeder, no better than a cockroach. "You should see how they live, what they eat," you say. "They use those claws mostly on each other, fighting over the women. And their brains are tiny." Well, I'll tell you one thing: My brains are a hell of a lot bigger than your balls, you trap-using pussy.

And they say we're the spineless ones.

You thought you were in control, but now you're not so sure. Can you really afford to do this? Am I going to be more trouble than I'm worth? Well, pally, it's gonna be a hell of a lot of work, I guarantee you that. More than you've ever had for a piece of tail. You thought you wanted the biggest and best, but now you're realizing that, pound for pound, you just bit off more than you could chew. Better take off that fancy dinner jacket, pal. We're going at it hammer and tongs, you and I. And when the steam clears, there's only gonna be one of us moving.

So come on. Take the rubber bands off. Take them off, Mr. Fancy. I'm feeling salty. Mano a mano, sucker. Let's go.

Leaving them on, huh? I knew it. I knew you were too big a coward to square off with me on a level playing field. And giving me to your woman to play with first! That takes the cake. Say, is that supposed to be me on your bib? It better fucking not be. I've never worn a fruity mustache or a fucking chef's hat in my life. Or rubber bands, either. I'd kill you with my two bare claws, if only I had the chance.

I don't know why you dragged me and those other guys in here. I'm sure you had your reasons. Maybe that's how you get your kicks—lure us in, set the table for a nice night, then get things simmering. You turn the heat up gradually, figuring we might not even notice at first. Then, you think, we'll show our true colors, maybe even squeal. Well, I ain't never gonna squeal. And I might get steamed, but I'll never get soft. You better have some special stuff if you want to crack me. I don't crack easy. And you won't hear a peep outta me no matter what you do. That story's for the sob sisters and the tourists.

I'm giving you one last chance. We can do this the gentlemanly way, both of us with our appendages free, or we can do it the ugly way. You wanna see things get ugly? Because I promise that they will if you come anywhere near me with those tongs. Rubber bands or no rubber bands, you are going down, buddy. I am one bad example of my type, and it won't be me in deep dip when this is all over.

Oh, you asshole. You gutless pansy. You can bite my ass.

Sign up For The Onion's Newsletter

Give your spam filter something to do.

X Close