You're Doomed!

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Vol 31 Issue 12

Local Man Helped Every Day By Salad Shooter

CINCINNATI—A Presto Appliance advertising slogan was proven accurate Tuesday, when local resident Larry McCue announced that he is helped every day by the Presto Salad Shooter. "The Salad Shooter helps me every day," McCue said. "Whether I am shredding whole potatoes into hash browns at breakfast time, or preparing healthful salads and other entrees later in the day, no day goes by without help from my Salad Shooter." In addition to the culinary assistance provided by the appliance, McCue said that on one occasion he knocked an intruder unconscious with the compact, easy-to-clean appliance. Presto officials stressed that the Salad Shooter is not meant for use as a blunt weapon.

Clinton's Lower Lip 'Very Concerned' About Albanian Crisis

WASHINGTON, DC—In a move expected to cause a slight jutting of his lower jaw region, it was announced Monday that President Clinton's lower lip is "very concerned" about the ongoing civil unrest in Albania. A spokesperson for the president's lower lip told reporters that it would be "protruding outward with care, yet sliding slightly upward in a show of caution and prudence." It remains unclear whether this move will obscure the mucous membrane of his upper lip. "Clinton's lower lip is very aware that, considering the seriousness of the Albanian situation, complete upper-lip coverage is a possibility, but it is not making any decision at this time," the spokesperson said. Many insiders predict that Clinton's brow may also furrow slightly.

Creative Alcoholic Comes Up With Idea To Drink A Lot

GALVESTON, TX—Area alcoholic Joe Roush unveiled Monday a bold, counterintuitive plan for this weekend: to become intoxicated by the alcohol his body desperately craves. "After much rumination, I have brainstormed a plan to become thoroughly drunk through the consumption of beer and hard liquor," Roush said. "I created this plan myself, though playwright Brendan Behan was a source of inspiration." Key to Roush's plan will be switching from beer to scotch at around midnight.

Israel Agrees To Creation Of Palestinian Homeroom

WEST BANK—In a historic breakthrough in the struggle for peace in the Middle East, Israeli and PLO leaders settled on a large ground-floor room in a West Bank office building to be used as a Palestinian homeroom. "Finally, we, the people of Palestine, have a room to call our own, a place where we can go at the beginning of each day to take attendance and listen to announcements," PLO leader Yasser Arafat said. The PLO held out until the 11th hour of negotiations, insisting that all Palestinians be permitted to talk quietly in their new homeroom.

Nation's Homeless Less Important Than Ever

WASHINGTON, DC—According to a study released Tuesday by the Department of Housing and Urban Development, the nation's approximately five million homeless citizens are less important now than they have ever been.
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Just Like Everything Else!: Fox 8 p.m. EDT/7 p.m. ABC Pete's wife is still on him about building that darn shed, these kids are going to be the death of Sheila and Dave, and the hot next-door neighbor is up in EVERYBODY'S business! Sunday nights on ABC couldn't be any more familiar!

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  • Child Visiting Ellis Island Sees Where Grandparents Once Toured

    ELLIS ISLAND, NY—Pausing to imagine the throngs of people who must have arrived with them that day back in 1994, 12-year-old Max Bertrand reportedly spent his visit to Ellis Island this afternoon walking around the same immigrant station his grandparents once toured.

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You're Doomed!

Several nights ago I couldn't sleep a wink due to an ongoing bout of the ague. Restless, I barked at my nurse to open the window so that some fresh air could clear the fetid odor of my bedchamber. As she drew the curtain, she revealed a sight that sent stark terror down my aged and malformed spine. A comet! The hairy-star of lore, the legendary harbinger of doom and portent of evil!

Immediately, I sought the speculations and advice of learned wise-men from the Orient. I clapped my hands, and in came my vizier, my alchemist and my soothsayers three. "What does the coming of this great comet mean?" I asked them. They stroked their long beards in thought and leaned upon their enchanted staffs.

"It ushers in the Great Reckoning," said my vizier.

"It is the chariot of an angry god," said my alchemist.

"There will be a plague of frogs," said my soothsayers three.

Well, be that as it may, one thing is for certain: I shall never permit anyone to commit suicide on my property again! I learned my lesson when Halley's Comet visited in 1910. My mother was out buying a soupbone at the butcher's, and I had agreed to look after the boarding-house. A group of a dozen robe-clad individuals walked in, having seen the "rooms for rent" sign in the window. They gave me $75 in silver and asked if they could kill themselves upstairs. I saw no reason why not, and they soon did the deed by swallowing ant paste and putting feed-bags over their heads. I believe in freedom of religion. I even helped a couple of them along by hitting them with planks.

Well, not long after, mother came home, and you can believe the fuss she raised. We had to pay Police Commissioner McCracken $10,000 to keep the whole incident a secret. Worst business decision I ever made.

Anyway, if you come crawling to my door, crying to be let in because a comet is headed straight for your town, you can just forget it! You are doomed! I have my own hermetically sealed, iron-clad bunker-chamber located some eight miles below the earth's surface, and there will just be room for myself, my valet and 71,000 cans of beets.

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