Welcome to tonight's news broadcast... I'm Steve Rolston. And now, getting right into our top story: Have the American people made a horrible mistake in electing President Elasmobranch the Unyielding? At least, that's what a lot of people in the area are asking tonight after the new chief executive's inauguration was marred by the tragic death of, well, everyone who attended, at the hands of Elasmobranch himself.
We now go to the live on the scene to our correspondent Luthor Edmiston, who brings us more. Luthor, are you there?
I'm here Steve. It was a scene of carnage in Washington, D.C., today as, mere moments after he stepped up the dais to take the oath of office, President Elasmobranch the Unyielding liquified the crowd with plasma rays emitted from his eyes, followed by a release of some sort of airborne toxin from his palms that infected all the remaining onlookers with a fast-acting putrefaction agent.
The crowd was caught by surprise as Elasmobranch the Unyielding unleashed his terrifying salvo of death, leaving few survivors to tell the tale. I'm seconds away from decaying myself, Steve, so I'm going to throw it back to you before I disintegrate on camera.
That was Luthor Edmiston reporting live, from the capital. Now, people from coast to coast are wondering if there was something that could have been done to prevent this terrible tragedy. We spoke to some protestors today in midtown to hear what they had to say:
We warned you all for months! You didn't listen to us! Elasmobranch said nothing on the campaign trail but "KILL ALL THE HUMANS!" He never elaborated his position on gun control, abortion, foreign policy, the economy... nothing! He just repeated "KILL ALL THE HUMANS!" over and over again!
Elasmobranch consumed human skulls on each campaign stop! You people could have saw the signs! All you cared about was whether or not you could have a beer with him! This monster will kill us all! Run for the hills!
Officials from the "Elasmobranch 2008" campaign have released a statement: "We deeply regret the minor error that occurred today on the steps of the Capitol, and will endeavor to make it up to American public. Watch your mailboxes for a tax rebate soon."
We'll have more for you as this story continues to unfold. But coming up, Nick Drye the Weather Guy will have your five-day "Mediocre-Tron 3000" weather forecast, and Paul will have the latest news from the "boys of summer" at the ballpark, so stay tuned right after these lawn furniture commercials.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
Oh, hey -- It's me! The wolf at your door! I'm having quite a time leaving clumps of fur out here on your mat. Boy howdy, I'll tell ya, there's just so much business going on these days that it's going to take the better part of the afternoon just to get this block down.
I guess your wondering why I'm out here, right? Well, I just finished noisily devouring that neighbor's kid, Jeffy. You know the little bastard -- douschebag used to throw whiffle balls at your car's door panels. Well, don't worry, he won't be throwing anything anymore. *burp* That letter-carrier coming down the block looks awfully tasty, too. Sure, mailman "Rob-Bob" has been dropping off parcels here for seven years, but you know that fucker is only going to bearing a foreclosure notice on this bullshit lean-to you call a house.
I think you're starting to get the picture -- I'm the lupine harbinger of madness, kiddo. You want high gas prices? I got 'em. You want war without end? I can has it. I haven't had this much fun in a long while -- a few hundred thousand folks laid off at GM and Ford the last few years was nothing. I was waiting for the time to be right. I want your house, your kid, your car, your genetically-engineered soybeans, the whole fucking shebang.
Aww, I'm sorry -- were you predatorily lent to? You do realize that a moron night manager at a Wendy's has no business getting any scratch up to own a house, right? After I pick the wishbone out of my fangs when I messily devour you and your family, I'm going to have fun starting a bonfire in here with your shitty album collection. Watch the value of this place finally soar -- as a weenie roast!
No one's exempt, friend -- I just paid a visit to that scarf-wearing panty-waist Aussie tennis instructor from American Idol a few weeks ago. Remember him? Neither do I! I guess he's having a rough spring too... being excreted in a warm coil on your front lawn! Hoo-hah!
I got a full schedule, paying visits to the American voter, the American primary candidates, errant governors, errant secretaries of state, errant attorneys-general, errant quarterbacks, errant actors, errant poets, Lionel Richie... it's gone from famine to feast so massively, I'm thinking I'll have to outsource some of this crazed carnage to Bangalore.
Hello... is it me you're looking for? *CHOMP!* Probably not! The more you people all sit there watching watching Olympic handspringing from Beijing, where my good Red friends take the truncheon to misbehaving journos, the easier it is for me to get my fill. What's that, you say? So long as the horror of systemic misfortune is happening to someone else, you'll have no problem moving to Phoenix and driving a Chevy Tahoe down the driveway to take out your garbage? I think not, jackass. Like the guy from TV says, I always get my man.
Hey, who ordered the umpteenth doughy white-guy comedy this week? I have bootleg copies of all this unwatchable, unimaginative shit in my hip pocket. Yeah, just come closer... closer... it's only 10 dollars, DVD quality... closer... no, these incisors are just for opening beer bottles, you dumb bastard. I am looking forward to a long, hot summer with millions of my closest meals, er, pals -- I suggest you stop the kicking and resisting and let canis lupus do his work. There are no bonus points for putting up a fight.
I have a lot of houses to attend to before this is all over with. This might take a while -- grab a poorly-written book and wait up for me.