Murder Hornets, ( vespa mandarina ) have reportedly killed as many as 50 people per year in Japan.  Now, for the first time, these gigantic hornets have been found in the United States.

              Last week, a murder hornet, who goes by the name, Jasper, was detained and held for questioning in connection with the assassination of JFK.   Although the Warren Commission concluded that Lee Harvey Oswald was solely responsible for JFK’s murder, local law enforcement officials are not so sure.

            “We have an eyewitness that saw Jasper buzzing around the scene of the crime seconds before the shooting took place,” says police chief, Clive Slayter.

             Jasper, the murder hornet, when asked to supply an alibi, was not completely forthright.

               “Jasper, initially stated that he was in Japan, mating with the queen of the local hornet’s nest, at the time of the JFK assassination,” says Chief Slayter.  “Now, we tracked down and questioned this queen, but she stated that she had mated with hundreds of drones over the years.  She was unable to say with any specificity if she had been with Jasper at the time of the JFK assassination or not.”  The Chief shakes his head, frowns, continues.  “When the queen alibi didn’t work, Jasper changed his story.  He then told us he was actually hibernating in an old, rusty, Maxwell House coffee can at the time of the JFK murder.  However, we could find no one to corroborate his alibi.  We also dusted Jasper for residual coffee grounds and found nothing.”

            Two days after he had been detained, Jasper was released by police officials due to lack of evidence.   However, three days later, Jasper was once again hauled into police custody for questioning about the death of Bruce Lee.

             “We also suspect Jasper had something to do with the death of martial arts icon, Bruce Lee,” Chief Slater says.  The Chief refers to a sealed document, continues.  “We think it was some kind of Jasper, the Murder Hornet vs. Bruce Lee, the Green Hornet, Asian mafia feud.”

             But, one day after Jasper had been questioned about the death of Bruce Lee, he was once again released due to a lack of evidence.   However, the very next day, Jasper was rounded up, yet again, under suspicion of being the one responsible for the murder of Tupac.

              “I don’t think he had anything to do with the deaths of JFK, Bruce Lee, or Tupac, says Jacquline Ruby, entomologist from the WormHole Square Center of Entomology.  She goes on.  “Murder Hornets only attack people when they are disturbed, or when their nests are threatened by predators or  gentrification.

 

                     Jesus, a.k.a., Savior, Light Of the World, King Of Kings, and the Messiah by millions, was fired from his job as a carpenter, last week.

                 “Jesus was good at walking on water and all that kind of miracle stuff, but truth be told, he was a lousy carpenter,” says Rodney Smalls, Jesus’ supervisor.    “Truth be told, the only reason Jesus even got this job is because his father pulled some strings.”

                    Records indicate that God may have bribed union officials with gold, frankincense, and myrrh to get Jesus into the carpenters union.   God may have also used threats of eternal damnation as leverage to get Jesus his job.

                “I had to let him go,” Smalls says of Jesus.   “He was always calling out from work with various lame excuses like… he had to go down to Samaria to help the lepers on Monday.  Or like… he had to go down to Antioch to heal the blind on Wednesday.  And like the time he called out because he said he had to go to some church near the Shore of the Sea of Galilee to feed 5000 people with a slice of bread and a box of Pop Tarts.”  Smalls shakes his head, continues.  “And that was in the middle of our big townhouse project in Babylon.”

                      According to building inspection reports, most of the 2×4 wood stud framing that Jesus had completed was not up to code, and had to be redone.

                   “Okay, fine, so I reassigned Jesus to less technically demanding carpentry projects, like building birdhouses down in Babel,” says Smalls.  “Easy, right?”  Smalls frowns, continues.  “The building inspector goes in, cited us again because the birdhouses were nowhere near up to code.  Caused a spark with the electrical.  Caused a big fire.”

                        Now we know where all that extra fried chicken at the Last Supper came from.

                  “The last straw was when Jesus didn’t show up to work one day – no call, no show, no Jesus, no nothing,” Smalls says.   “And then out of the blue, Jesus shows up 3 days later with a note from his father that read:”  Please excuse Jesus’ absence from work.  He was crucified by the hands of the Romans, who were particulary cruel to him, especially Roman Polanski.   Please grant Jesus 3 days of FMLA and resurrection paid leave.

                  A tree named Doug, has been arrested and charged with multiple counts of fraud in connection with an AARP membership scheme.

            “Simply stated, Doug fraudulently obtained a full AARP membership, and used it to receive full membership perks,” says States Attorney, Jill Cartwright.

                 Full AARP memberships are only valid to members who are 50 years of age or older.  Court records indicate that Doug was less than 50 years of age when he obtained his membership card and  full benefits.  Trees are aged by counting the visible rings inside the tree’s trunk.  Each ring represents 1 year.

               “Forensic evidence shows only 41 organic, legitimate rings inside Doug’s tree trunk, so he was only 41 years of age at the time he received his full AARP membership,” adds Ms. Cartwright.  “Further forensic testing has determined that 2 of Doug’s trunk rings were applied with a Sharpie.  3 additional rings were applied with a mascara brush.  1 ring was applied via Photoshop.  A bootleg DVD copy of Lord Of the Rings found inside his trunk, accounts for the additional age discrepancy.”

                 Charging documents state that Doug used his fraudulent,  AARP membership card to receive tens of dollars in discounts on dining at such places like, Dennys, Outback Steakhouse, and the Rainforest Cafe; his most frequented restaurant.   Doug also received discounts on Carnival cruises and movie tickets.

               “The most egregious infraction involved discounts off movie concession stand items, like jumbo popcorn and soft drink combos,” States Attorney Cartwright, added.   “As you know, 1 trip to a movie concession stand can cost thousands of dollars.  Mr. Doug used his illegally obtained AARP membership card 12 times to purchase snacks at concessions stands, defrauding AARP out of hundreds of thousands of dollars.  If everyone else has to pay $850 for a box of Milk Duds, so does Doug,” Cartwright adds with a dose of anger.

                Doug maintains that his AARP membership is legit, blaming the age discrepancy on a clerical error, dogs barking up the wrong tree, and his enemies, Woody the Woodpecker and Groot, throwing shade.

 

                 Last night, in the 400 block of South Broadway, a pimp known as Royal Flush, was attacked by a velociraptor, who was disguised as the Monopoly Man.

           “I thought that thing was a customer at first,” says working girl, Sprinkles, who witnessed the attack.  She takes a deep breath, continues.  “Dude walked up, green, scaly, ashy skin, looking like a giant lizard and shit.  Like… Shrek’s great, great, grandfather, but with a moustache, top hat and tail, right?   I didn’t know what it was.  I’m like – okay, I’ve seen uglier motherfuckas in this line of work before, so, whatever, man.”   She looks away, spits, continues.  “I’m not really even invested in this job anyway, you know what I mean?   Like…  I’m only doing this gig to raise the tuition so that I can go to school to become a walrus trainer.”

                       The velociraptor who attacked Royal Flush, is believed to be the same creature who attacked an Amish man in Pennsylvania a few months ago.  During last night’s attack, Royal Flush reportedly tried to fend off the creature by bitch-slapping and putting his foot up the velociraptor’s ass, but without success.   Royal Flush apparently also tried to bargain with velociraptor to stop the attack.

           “He offered the big lizard 200 dollars and exclusive territorial rights to operate a brothel on Ventnor, Marvin Gardens and Atlantic Avenue, all without retaliation,” Sprinkles says.  The velociraptor expressed no interest in the offer, according to other eyewitnesses.

                   “That big lizard thing just continued ripping Royal Flush to pieces,”Sprinkles adds.  “That creature probably thought Royal Flush was an ostrich or something, because of that mink coat he was wearing.  Feathers, fur, and flesh flying everywhere.  Crazy, man!   After the big lizard finished chewing up Royal Flush’s spleen, he  took his gold chain… his Black & Mild cigarettes, and then he took off down the street.”

                 Authorities report that the velociraptor is still at large and should be considered extremely dangerous.   Suspect was last seen running eastbound on Baltic Avenue with a size 10 Bruni Magli patent leather shoe sticking out of his ass.

                   Last week, Donald Trump uttered a chain of words that no adult over the age of 9 should ever have uttered within earshot of another human being.  During a White House briefing, Trump suggested using sunlight and disinfectants inside the human body to kill the COVID-19 coronavirus.  This week, Trump doubled down on his idea by suggesting that light and disinfectants could also be used to kill computer viruses.

                   “What if we hit the hard drive with tremendous ultraviolet light… or another light source,” Trump suggested.  And it got worse.  “What if we brought in moonlight through the USB port… or maybe another light source, like candlelight or Charlottesville tiki torchlight?  Or maybe… we could insert many, many fireflies into the USB port to kill the computer virus with tremendous light?”

                Trump, looked to his experts, who were in shock, continued.   “I hear that disinfectants kill computer viruses in like 5 seconds.  What if we injected the disinfectant into the motherboard?  Almost like a deep cleaning of the CPU.  Seems like it could work to me.  In addition, bleach also works great for cleaning Klan robes,”  Trump added.

            Trump’s suggestions were met with swift criticism by every corner of the normal thinking public.   But, then there were the Trump supporters.

           “I done poured that there bleach all inside my laptop, as per Trump’s suggestion,”  says Reno Baker, 44, of Kentucky.   He waves away smoke from his still smouldering laptop, continues.  “So, basically, the computer went hog shit crazy.  Melted and billowed up with fire and smoke like a Nascar, multi-car crash.  It was like a moonshining still gone haywire.   But, hey, I’m sure I killed that dang virus.   Mission accomplished!”

 

               Rudy Cavanau, 47, has been addicted to refrigerated lunch meat, specifically poultry, for over 25 years.

                  “I like it chilled, and it’s pretty much all I eat… aside from pumpkin seeds and ice chips,” says Rudy.

              And even though his refrigerated lunch meat habit puts him at greater risk of high bold pressure and heart disease, Rudy still hasn’t been able to quit, even for the sake of his health.

                   “I have an 18 lunch meat sandwich a day habit,” says Rudy.  His mind wanders, returns.  He continues.  “My habit has cost me everything.  My wife left me after she caught me crouched down, behind the washing machine, at 3am, repeatedly French kissing… a turkey and cheese hoogie.  I hocked everything I owned just to get that next fix.  My lowest point was when I found myself in the back of a food truck, giving oral pleasure to male Gypsies in exchange for leftover turkey wings.”

                     Rudy has tried multiple methods to help him kick has habit, including Lunch Meat Excessive Eaters Anonymous, without success.

              “Yeah, that didn’t go too good,” Rudy admits.  “Because for some strange reason, they would always serve cold cuts after the meetings.  Took me 6 months to realize that I had been going to the wrong joint.”  Rudy chuckles, continues.  “I had been going to meetings for people addicted to eating soap.  It was weird.  After the end of every meeting, the air would filled with bubbles.”

            Rudy thinks, continues.  “Then I tried medication, but the side affects made my kidneys itch… and my hands tremble, which was problematic in my job at the nitroglycerin plant.  Had to get a new job.  Later, I even tried hypnosis, but staring repeatedly at a swinging watch gave me vertigo, which was problematic at my new job as a doll house roofer.”

           It was at that point that Rudy reunited with his former life coach, an iguana named Bingles, to help him finally beat his addiction.

                   “I was desperate,” Rudy says.  He looks into his hands.  No answer there, continues.  “Bingles came in, sat me down, ripped the turkey bologna patch from my arm, and then he gave me the advice of last resort.  He told me to just quit straight up… you know… go cold turkey.”

             And there it was, the method that had such obvious ironic peril within its framework, that it would surely land Mr. Rudy Cavanau into cyclical relapse and torment.  Good luck, Rudy.

                  Yesterday, Logan Spiers, 44, won the 17th annual International Dry Feet Down Hill Racing Contest, at WormHole Square Slopes.   The event featured about 100 contestants with extremely dry and ashy feet, who raced barefoot down a mountain slope covered in a mixed layer of  corrugated cardboard and rice paper.

                  “I trained really, really hard for this event and finally my dream has come true,” says Mr. Spiers.   “First, I cut all consumption of vitamin A from my diet.  Second, I carefully tripled my intake of sugar to push my diabetes into overdrive, to insure my skin would become good and dry, but not to the level where my feet would fall off.   I also soaked my feet every day in a solution of sodium sulphate, sawdust and Tennessee corn whiskey.  Then I stuck ’em in the oven, covered in a layer of pound cake batter.   Set the oven to 350.  Baked for 40 minutes.  Turned feet over.  Baked for another 40 minutes until batter was flaky to the touch.”

                Mr. Spiers looks down at his feet, grimaces, continues.

               “My other training consisted of line dancing with iguanas and kicking an empty can of lima beans across the Mojave desert… barefoot.  I later trained exclusively with an iguana named, Bingles, who showed me how to trim my toenails on the side of a cactus, and how to spit 30 feet into a bucket, while suffering from extreme hydration.”

                 This was the fourth time Mr. Spiers had entered the race.  His previous best result was 25th place last year.

                  “The extra training and focused determination made the difference this time,” Spiers says.  “And right before this race, I smoothed my calloused heals with 150 grit sandpaper to reduce drag, and I polished my bunions with furniture wax, for better aerodynamic flow.  I want to thank Bingles for helping me make my dream come true.”

 

                Yesterday, a mime and a signer ( sign language expert ), squared off in a debate at the WormHole Square Auditorium.

                 “Actually, as of this time, we are still not sure who won the debate,” says moderator, Mariam Collins.

          The judges, who consisted of 3 New York City cab drivers and the entire cast of the movie, A Quiet Place, were still tallying the scores.  The topic of the debate was Free Speech: Absolute or Limits?  The mime argued that free speech should have no limits, and the signer argued that free speech is not absolute.

              In the audience and supporting the mime, were French cinema buffs and Charlie Chaplin’s uncle, Otis Chaplin, who works part-time in a library as a shusher.  And supporting the signer were retired bell tower workers, the guy from Slingblade,  a third base – baseball coach, and several members of the regional Rock, Paper, Scissors championship team.

            Ms. Collins refers to her notes on an index card and proceeds to replay key moments of the debate.

                  “So… the signer opened with… Free speech is not absolute, and quoted the 1919 case of Schenck v. United States, where Holmes argued that… You can’t yell fire in a crowded theatre and cause a panic.  Points awarded!  However, the signer quickly lost points by incorrectly crediting Sherlock Holmes and/or Larry Holmes with the quote.  In addition, all of the judges agreed that it was okay to yell whatever is necessary to clear the theatre during any Michael Bay, or Tyler Perry, directed movie.”

             Ms. Collins shuffles to a new index card, continues.  “And then the mime countered and jujitsu-ed with … Why then, is showing a movie permitted inside a fire station?”  

                 Ms. Collins taps the side of her right temple three times with her index finger, continues.  “Points awarded!”   She goes on.

               ” The mime then cited the 1969 case of Brandenburg v. United States, which basically overturned the Schenck case.  But, the mime lost points here because several judges disagreed and  believed that free speech is not possible during a 69′.”

                The legendary Lost Dryer Sock has reportedly been seen riding on a dog sled during the annual Iditarod race in Alaska.

                   “I was sitting on my front porch eating a slice of pizza when I saw the sock,” said Alaska resident, Lance Dizzletree.  “The pizza was cold as I recall.  And for the record, I don’t recommend Dominos delivery during a blizzard in subzero temperatures.  And tipping the driver the standard 18% is optional under these conditions, I would add.”

           Dizzletree smiles broadly, continues.   “I last saw the sock, a tan, cotton, calf-height, crew sock, about 20 years ago, right before I competed in the Anchorage Bi-Polar Polar Bear Arm Wrestling Tournament.”   Dizzletree frowns, continues.  “I was a semi-finalist.  I was vanquished by a polar bear named, Clyde Turner, in the semis.  Clyde had a proclivity for Neutrogena hand lotion and humming dirges by candlelight, as I recall.”  Dizzletree shakes off the memory, continues.  “So, through my binoculars, I see the sock along with the other mushers and dogs, sledding up the Rainy Pass, across rim of the Bering Sea, through King’s Landing, on to Winterfell, and then through the New Jersey Turnpike.“

                And that is when Dizzletree’s account becomes fuzzy.  He rubs his brow as if to sharpen his recall.

               “So… now all the mushers are heading towards the home stretch, which is in Nome.  The Lost Dryer Sock is somewhere in the middle of the pack.  And then… POW!”

              That’s when the Lost Dryer Sock’s sled reportedly hit a pedestrian walking on the race course.  The sled then tumbled down a hill slope.

                 “No one has seen the sock since then,” Dizzletree adds. But, you know who I did see?  Clyde Turner.  He was the dumbass pedestrian hit on the race course.  Through my binoculars I can see Clyde laying in the snow, critically injured… and he’s looking at me through a pair of binoculars of his own.   And over the crunching, teeth shattering sound of me chewing a slice of pizza, which is frozen by now, I can faintly hear Clyde humming a dirge.”  Dizzletree holds back some conflicted sorrow, continues.  “Clyde then points directly at me… right before his lights went out.”

                 The Lost Dryer Sock has not been seen since.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                 A local horse named, Octavio, is trying to determine whether his headless physical affliction is hereditary, or is a result of something else.

                “My grandfather didn’t have a head,” says Octavio.  “And although my granddad was born with a head, he did not come to lose his head until after he got mixed up with the mafia – through no fault of his own.”

             As it turns out, Octavio’s grandfather was Khartoum, the horse whose head was chopped off and left in a Hollywood movie producer’s bed, in the movie, The Godfather.

              “Does what happened to my grandfather and my condition have a hereditary link, or is it just a coincidence?” Octavio wonders.  He scratches around the rim of his neck, continues.  “And I honestly don’t recall exactly how I became headless.  I vaguely remember once drinking from a horse trough labeled sulphuric acid.  Relevant?  Maybe.”   He shrugs, thinks further.   “And for a time, I was an assistant for a samurai, who had a malevolent sleepwalking disorder.  But, is that relevant?  I’m just not sure.”

                    Octavio just can’t remember things that might help shed light on the answers to his question.  Not having a head simply makes remembering details that much worse.  Local veterinarians have conducted DNA tests to determine a hereditary link with inconclusive results.

             “The only thing the DNA tests have found so far is that I did inherit my grandfather’s  acne, migraines, and chronic sinusitis, which oddly, still gives me trouble to this very day, especially during allergy season.”