The Zweibel Prize

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Vol 35 Issue 44

Divorced Man Forced To Get Back Down To Dating Weight

SILVER SPRING, MD—Greg Geisinger, a 265-pound Wilmington man whose seven-year marriage ended in divorce earlier this month, must get back down to his dating weight of 190 pounds, he announced Monday. "Oh, man, I have got to lose this weight if I'm gonna be back out there dating again," said Geisinger, who for years has carried 75 pounds of excess marital flab on his 5'11" frame. "No good-looking single woman is gonna want to go out with a guy who looks like this." Geisinger said he is eager to remarry so he can gain back the weight he is about to lose.

Area Man Dying To Tell Someone His Cool Password

PUYALLUP, WA—Bob Aldridge, who last week became an America Online member, is dying to tell someone his cool password, the 31-year-old associate marketing manager revealed Tuesday. "Oh, man, it is seriously the most awesome password ever," Aldridge said. "Unfortunately, I can't tell anyone, because the whole point is to keep it a secret. But believe me, if you heard this password, you would be so unbelievably jealous." Though Aldridge has given no clues as to what the password might be, several of his friends said they strongly suspect it has something to do with Buffy The Vampire Slayer, The Simpsons or They Might Be Giants.

Anarchists Rise Up, Move To Different Cafeteria Table

BATAVIA, NY—After years of working toward an ultimate goal of smashing the dominant social and political hierarchy, the Anarchy League of Batavia South High School rose up and took action Monday, moving to another cafeteria table when this bunch of jerks from the popular kids' table wouldn't stop making faces and shooting spitballs at them. "At long last, the time has come for us to gather our books and sit over at that other table by the window where, hopefully, those guys will stop bugging us," said sophomore anarchist Lindsay Franklin, 15. "I hate those stupid idiots. They think they're so cool."

Police Uncover Talk-Show-Guest Mill In Rural Kentucky

TOMPKINSVILLE, KY—After months of searching, Kentucky law-enforcement officials, working closely with federal authorities, discovered a massive, illegal talk-show-guest mill Monday on the outskirts of Tompkinsville. "When I first laid eyes on the place, I couldn't believe what I was seeing," said Monroe County sheriff Bill McCallum, the first to spot the long-sought mill. "There had to be enough scrawny, toothless men in "Stone Cold" Steve Austin T-shirts and fat, foul-mouthed women in sweatsuits for a thousand Jerry Springer episodes. There was a whole section of the mill that, from the looks of things, pumped out nothing but rattails."

Prescription-Drug Prices

Prescription-drug prices are expected to be a major issue in the 2000 presidential campaign, with most drugs costing substantially more in the U.S. than overseas. What do you think about the high cost of medication in America?
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The Zweibel Prize

Years ago, when I was a young news-paper man and you were but a series of brutish animal impulses in your drunken great-grandfather's pants-creases, a young man appeared in my office and presented me with an investment opportunity. From simple lye-soap and sulfur, he had devised an explosive material known as the dyna-might, and he said he needed only the resources of the Onion news-paper to finance and transform his brainchild into a million-dollar empire!

Had I agreed to such an arrangement, the smoke-choked abbatoir of The Great War could have been immensely profitable for me. But I was greedy, and instead of financing the venture in exchange for a share of the profits, I attempted to physically sieze this dyna-might invention for myself—which is how I lost the hearing in my right ear, as well as half a detachment of Swiss guard and a perfectly good block of office-buildings.

Fortunately, I learned from my mistake. Some years back, I established the Zweibel Foundation to celebrate any new development in the arts or sciences which has the potential to benefit me by being marketed to all mankind. Every winter, when the Zweibel mansion lies sleeping beneath a thick, white mantle of gently falling flakes from my skin, I summon my solicitor Beavers to my bed-side, and we sift through the many candidates for the Zweibel Prize.

Through the years, I have awarded the Zweibel Prize for many inventions of unique vision. The Iron-Lung is, of course, a Zweibel Prize recipient, as is the ear trumpet. I have also awarded it for the medicinal technique of strapping the unbalanced and foreign-born to a table and subjecting them to great amount of electrical current, then thrusting an ice-pick into the corner of their eye and applying a vigorous butter-churning motion. This renders them miraculously biddable for their remaining years.

And cunning machinations! There were no end to them in the early days: the efficient mechanical-gun, the doughty strip-mine, the chastity-harness, the space-saving Reservation for Red Indians, the Chamber of Gasses. Those were heady days indeed, and by offering the Zweibel Prize in exchange for a third of the invention's gross, I made a pretty penny.

But this is a sad era for human endeavor. The well-spring of great ideas seems to have run dry, and there have been no Zweibel Prizes awarded since the development of the Electrical Truss. I have decided to retire my Prize until a more enlightened and innovative day arrives.

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