THE ML WEEKLY NEWS Tuesday, January 29, 2001
Rated G Issue #009
Editor in-chief: The KodeMaster Journalist: An Aussie
Format Checkers: Sah-Rae Hyjo Content Suggester: Micro Hue
THE MOB NEVER FORGETS
by David HugoSeveral citizens of MLerville descended like a pack of vultures on the ML Weekly News Building earlier this week as they demanded to know what in the Net was the hold up.
Meach, head of the not-so-crazed mob, decided that action needed to be taken after the Editor had shot himself in the proverbial foot late last week. She politely informed him that he best "go take a deep breath and work on the next edition of the newspaper."
An alternative course of action was not provided. It eventually turned out that providing one would have been fruitless, anyway.
In view of the mob wielding flaming torches and shouting, "Death to the heathen!" the resident Editor decided that maybe, just maybe, writing another issue sometime next century was actually a good idea after all, and many of those present wondered just which unlucky slob would get the 'privilege' of writing it all for him.
No prizes for guessing who.
EDITOR'S ROWDrawing the short straw in the ML Weekly News Building is going to be hazardous to your health. Petitions have been made to make this a public health warning, engrave it on a brass plaque, and then place it above the entrance. Our permanently grumpy Editor, however, has repeatedly denied ever receiving the lengthy petitions.
Take, for instance, the question of who in the ML Weekly News Building was going to reveal to Special Agent Wilhelmina Harkness the name of the guy who didn't properly place the cap on a blue ball-point pen on an unable-to-be-named journalist's desk.
Personally, this tragically-ill-advised-and-unfortunate journalist is convinced that all straws in the office must hate him.
Upon hesitantly approaching Special Agent Wilhelmina Harkness's office, he was rather disturbed at the sight of bats hanging around the cave's gaping entrance -- he could still see remains of the bomb which opened it -- and the downright-hungry-looking lions resting outside. On running past the big cats, this journalist's heart only returned to normal when the lions finally left him alone -- after sprinting helter-skelter three hundred metres into the cave, right at the point when the darkness obscured his own nose.
Immersed in the darkness, there was no way this journalist could be prepared for the bats. Nightmares are expected to be plaguing him for weeks to come.
Worse yet, when he did finally come across Special Agent Wilhelmina Harkness, he was even more disturbed to find her merrily sitting in the darkness and seemingly already aware of the reasons for braving her lair.
Stammering out the name of our ungrateful Editor only got this unappreciated journalist into deeper hot water when Special Agent Wilhelmina Harkness promptly flew off the handle. It only avoided this surprisingly-quick journalist when he managed to grab the saucepan Special Agent Harkness flew at him from and use this to deflect the incoming blows.
Backing quickly from the irate Special Agent at the accusation against her beloved Editor, this unappreciated journalist soon found himself trapped between her and the hungry lions. The only reason he survived to tell the tale was because he managed to WONK the lions and Special Agent Wilhelmina Harkness at the same time through some fluke he is still trying to understand, let alone remember.
On reflection -- a feat only attempted back at the relative safety of his desks -- this journalist was rather unsurprised to find bat guano on his shoes, his heart risking cardiac arrest, and his hands still somehow gripping the saucepan. Although rather dented, it now resides on the mantelpiece of a journalist just happy to be alive.
The lesson, folks, is this: avoid caves, especially those caves favored by unbalanced Special Agents. That, and avoid all the straws at work.
Oh, and don't draw straws without a second person present.
And if you do have someone present, don't let them pick for you.
WEATHER REPORTA return to times of lore is expected this weekend as Jonny escapes from FicWorld and enters MLerville.
Just last week, Bryne noted that Jonny is "like a hurricane with conscious thought... still doing what comes naturally but knowing it the whole while."
Authorities on the subject suggest that this great freak of nature may be wound up by rotating a rope around him in a clockwise fashion, or by whipping out vacuum cleaner tubes and inhaling deeply at the sight of him.
When we interviewed citizens in regards to what they thought of it, there was a largely mixed response.
"Well, lands shakes," exclaims a 55 year-old farmer, "this thing's going to cause an earthquake!"
"What hurricane?" asks another.
And finally, "What the--" was all which could made out before the unfortunate citizen being interviewed was mown down by a flaming-red sportscar.
The driver was reportedly grinning crazily while shouting madly, "Woohoo! Thirty points for the pensioner!"
MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE RANCHYeah, so the Editor left this article blank this week... so sue us.
Actually, on second thought... don't.
