adBlockCheck

That Enema Just About Killed Me

Top Headlines

Recent News

360 Tour: Inside The RNC

The Onion invites you to explore our view from the floor of the 2016 Republican National Convention in Cleveland.

Good Guy With Gun, Bad Guy With Gun Both Excited To Unload Firearm In Crowd Outside Arena

CLEVELAND—As each of them looked around at the people gathered outside Quicken Loans Arena and fantasized about unholstering their weapon and taking aim directly at others, both a good guy with a gun and a bad guy with a gun attending the Republican National Convention reportedly worked themselves into a heightened state of excitement Thursday at the thought of unloading their firearm into the crowd.

Bob Dole Picked Off By Large Hawk Circling Arena Parking Lot

CLEVELAND—Describing how the bird of prey suddenly dived down from the sky at high velocity, sources confirmed Thursday that former GOP presidential nominee Bob Dole was picked off by a large red-tailed hawk circling above the Quicken Loans Arena parking lot.
End Of Section
  • More News
Up Next

That Enema Just About Killed Me

Readers will excuse the haste with which to-day's Message has been composed, as it was submitted scant minutes before dead-line. Not out of personal sloth or weakness of intellect, mind you. I pride my-self on the sublime elegance of my prose-style and the exquisite logic of my opinions. However, thanks to the harrowing malfunctioning of a machine which was intended to efficiently dispense my morning enema, I am forced to write this column at an ungodly hour.

The machine had been invented by my eccentric grand-son, L. Gideon, who is some-what of a tinkerer and enjoys piecing together contraptions in the root-cellar. L. Gideon knew how much I detest enemas, and how I wish them to be as brief as possible. He also desperately wanted to get back into my good graces, as I had never forgiven him for the time his electric scissors ran amok through the estate and cut my bed-clothes into ribbons.

I do not want to get into a detailed explanation of the machine, but it was basically an enema-bulb affixed to the end of a hollowed-out broom-stick, which was in turn attached to an engine. The engine would shoot a blast of air into the tube, forcing the entire contents of the enema into my rectum instantaneously. I thought it was the acme of ingenuity, and I gladly pulled up my night-dress to receive the glorious instrument.

However, when switched on, the machine started to violently rock back and forth and smoke. Instead of receiving an enema, my awaiting rectum was repeatedly pummeled by the rubber bulb, and I was shaken like a rag-doll. This went on for several long minutes as L. Gideon and my nurse frantically tried to subdue the horrible thing.

Oh, the humiliation of it all! The infernal contraption very nearly tore me to bits, and it made me so giddy that I cannot collect my wits. I believe I was intending to use this column to write about Plessy v. Ferguson or some such matter, but I cannot remember for certain. My man-servant Standish suggested that I could liken the failure of the enema-machine to the short-comings of Progress, but I prefer to liken it to the stupidity of my gelatin-headed grand-son.

I must now conclude this column, as the night editor anxiously awaits it. I'll bet the great news-paper editor Horace Greeley never had to contend with an enema-dispensing machine.

Sign up For The Onion's Newsletter

Give your spam filter something to do.

X Close