adBlockCheck

The New Eunuch Is Not Working Out

Top Headlines

Recent News

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.

Wow, Dad Really Went From Zero To 60 With Woodworking This Summer

PAGE, AZ—Expressing their astonishment as they once again heard the sound of their father using his circular saw in the garage despite his seemingly complete lack of interest in the craft prior to last month, the children of area man Sam Morgan, 52, confirmed Tuesday that, wow, their dad had really gone from zero to 60 with woodworking this summer.

Who Is Tim Kaine?

Virginia senator Tim Kaine will be Hillary Clinton’s running mate on the Democratic Party ticket in the 2016 presidential election. Here’s what you need to know about Kaine

Lone Superdelegate Voting For Martin O’Malley Feels Like Total Fucking Idiot

PHILADELPHIA—Sheepishly raising his hand to nominate the man who suspended his presidential campaign back in February, unpledged delegate Bob Shiefke told reporters Tuesday he felt like a “total fucking idiot” for being the only person at the Democratic National Convention voting for former Maryland governor Martin O’Malley.
End Of Section
  • More News
Up Next

The New Eunuch Is Not Working Out

It was my birth-day recently, and the customary deluge of gifts flooded the Estate. I was wheeled into my private amusement annex so that I could watch the unwrapping of my presents. As usual, I was given needless rubbish and picayune baubles that serve me no purpose. I received what must have been my 659th mechanical nightingale from whomever is the Emperor of Siam now-a-days, when what I truly desired was a new shawl and a visit from the Grim Reaper. I directed Standish to cast the nightingale into the furnace and bury the rest of the unopened loot in the court-yard.

As the remaining gifts were taken from the room, one of the larger boxes began to jostle and shake violently. A pool of urine quickly formed in the seat of my wheel-chair, so filled with fear was I. "Let me out," a voice called from the box. "I am an eunuch sent by the Sultan of Mazrahdekh as a gift to the Honorable T. Herman Zweibel with the warmest birthday wishes."

Well, that was just splendid. Didn't that idiot Sultan realize I have no need for a eunuch? I am already advised by a vizier and an alchemist, not to mention my soothsayers three. I even have an unquestioning sycophant in the form of my faithful man-servant Standish. And precisely where did the Sultan expect me to keep it–in the pantry?

My son J. Phineas insisted that the box be opened. "Eunuchs are often trained in song and dance. He could be summoned into your bed-chamber every night, so that he may regale you with a lullaby. Perhaps you would no longer require your nightly soothing-syrups in order to sleep."

That night, my bed-chamber was ablaze with candle-light and my bed swathed in sheer muslin gauze. Standish pulled on the bell-rope and the eunuch promptly appeared, bedecked in flowers and brandishing a zither. It began to strum on it for what seemed the longest time, no doubt to lure me into a tranquil mood, but it only provoked my ire. "Get on with your singing, you testicleless oaf!" I screamed.

The eunuch began to sing in a voice that sounded like a cross between a little girl and a klaxon. Its voice so unnerved me that I could only look on helplessly, mouth agape. Standish sensed my confusion and distress, and whispered in my ear, "Castrated men sing in a high register, sir."

I couldn't bear the thought of this eunuch singing another note, so I told Standish to put it back in the box until I could think of some other use for it. Curse it all! I'm too old to have to worry about eunuchs.

Sign up For The Onion's Newsletter

Give your spam filter something to do.

X Close