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Where Are My Prosthetic Ears?

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NFL Vows To Fix Bottomless Pit On Levi’s Stadium Field Before Super Bowl

SANTA CLARA, CA—Following persistent safety concerns regarding the playing surface throughout the regular season, the NFL made firm assurances Friday to both the Denver Broncos and Carolina Panthers that the bottomless pit in the middle of the field at Levi’s Stadium will be fully repaired before Super Bowl 50.

Area Man Would Hate Cam Newton Even If He Was Different Minority

MURRAY, KY—Adamantly stressing that his disdain for the 26-year-old quarterback is not based on any racial prejudice toward African Americans, local 49-year-old Michael Willet told reporters Friday that he would hate Cam Newton even if the Carolina Panthers star was a different minority.

Monocle-Wearing Oil Baron’s Cigarette Holder Splinters In Clenched Teeth After Hearing Bernie Sanders’ Environmental Platform

GREENWICH, CT—Leaving him visibly seething as he sat in his tufted leather wingback chair in his study, monocle-wearing oil baron Frederick Porter Harriman’s ivory-inlaid cigarette holder reportedly splintered between his clenched teeth upon him hearing presidential candidate Bernie Sanders outline his environmental platform during Thursday night’s Democratic debate.
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Where Are My Prosthetic Ears?

Nurse! Turn this room inside out! No one in this estate will eat their bread and gruel until my prosthetic ears are found! I just saw the things not one, maybe two hours ago! Where in the name of the Apostles could they be?

I will be just beside myself if they are not found by night-fall. They are made of a fine, hand-tooled silver, a gift to me from the Imperial Highness of the Potentate of Prussia back in 1907. At the time, I naturally laughed at the peculiarity of such items; little did I know how sorely I would later need them.

No, no, Nurse, you imbecile, that's my ear-trumpet! I am looking for the actual ears! You unscrewed them off me last night--where in blazes did you put them?

A shiny guilder to anyone who finds and returns my prosthetic ears!

These ears are unique and priceless. And woe to the wretch who tries to steal them! In 1922, a simple sharecropper working a patch of land on my vast holdings broke into my mansion, removed the ears from their glass display case, and secreted them in his over-alls. A six-day manhunt took place all over the county, and the sheriff and his posse finally tracked him down in his crude shanty, cowering with his wife and nine babies. He was going to return the ears, he pleaded, saying that he only took them so that his earless wife could know what it was like to have ears for a little while on her birthday. I considered clemency, but decided to have him pressed to death anyway as an example to other would-be ear thieves.

If these ears do not turn up soon, the Zweibel Estate will become Hell itself. I will make life so hard for these wretched lummoxes who pass for my servants that the atrocities of Ivan the Terrible will seem like a fairy-picnic!

What? What did you say, Nurse? Screw the ear-trumpet to my left ear so I can hear you. Why, by great Jupiter's whiskers, my prosthetic ears weren't missing--I was wearing them all this time! Oh, now I remember. Standish put them in for me this morning so I could listen to Amos & Andy on the wireless! Huzzah! Standish, you can stop immolating the indentured servants now, for I have found my ears!

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