Used Car Salesman Goes Insane

Hoboken, NJ - Selling cars at low prices can be a profitable sales gimmick, but for one area man it proved quite dangerous to his mental stability. Some say Curt Karl of "Karl's Car Corral" was selling used automobiles at such insanely low prices it slowly drove him mad. Each subsequent sale lowered his cognitive capacity to the point at which it is today. The commercials he produced for local television were the first hint of his startling decent into mindlessness say investigators. Bucky "Jim" Bell, head investigator and ferret breeder, says "Selling a '93 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme for $1999.95 is unheard of," spitting out a mouthful of brown saliva he continued, "I mean the damn things got A/C, AM/FM stereo, and power steering, just ain't right. His mental state gotta be all wonky to sell it that cheap." His assistant detective interjected saying, "Oldsmobile's a good car, Moms got one." He then adjusted his bulbous crotch for a few moments, sniffing his fingers afterward. It seems the Cutlass wasn't the only the only thing Curt let go of at a low price. There were several other irrational car deals like a '95 Geo Tracker 4x4 sold for $300, A Buick Skylark with custom sound system for $75, and a Ford Excursion given away for free because Curt said it was a absentee father. With each of those sales his neurocognitive deficit surged, ultimately resulting in Curt letting one very important item go for free, his mind.

What started out as a standard used car gimmick has made a tragic turn for this purveyor of "as is" vehicles. Employees thought his brazen yellow sport coat and orange tie were another gimmick, until he started soaking his tie in the coffee pot to "remove the nanobots" from the beverage as his secretary stated. She added that the yellow blazer was really a white coat soaked in Curt's bodily fluids to ward off angry wizards who wanted to challenge him for his title as "wizard of the year". A title he had made a trophy for, which investigators later identified as a large piece of "dried excrement" inscribed with the wizard of the year text written in lipstick. Lead investigator Bucky was impressed with the size of the trophy, but concluded Curt had progressed into highly disorganized thinking, was delusional, and possibly could be having auditory hallucinations. Bucky later took the trophy home for what he referred to as "further studies".

Clearly he was irrational, but the scope of his paranoia and detachment from reality wasn't taken seriously until after "Two for one Tuesday". On that Tuesday Curt was giving away a free car for buying one car on his lot. Customers loved the pitch and flocked to his car lot, but where becoming alarmed when Curt started to foam at the mouth and rant about Ronald Reagan being the devil. At the end of the day, when all his cars were gone, Curt sat on his desk and began to remove all the hairs from his body using a wooden spoon. Authorities were called when he defecated on head-shots of Ronald Reagan, as they arrived he became nearly comatose due to the near catastrophic levels of dopamine in his brain. Now laying mute in his secured room at the Sans Loving Hands Mental Facility, Mr. Karl is a constant reminder of how some sales gimmicks are all too real. As a footnote to this piece I later learned that $75 for a Buick Skylark is actually a fair deal and not really that insane a price to pay for one. Actually all those asked said it was too much and highly overpriced.

Reporting for SudoNews, Chuck Handballer Boston Bureau

Terrorist Want To Kill This Family

Grand Rapids, Michigan - Always handsome, always diligent, George W. Bush, once said, "Terrorist want to kill your family." Apparently, Mr. Bush and his administration have been correct all along as this was not just a sound clip intended to frighten Americans into believing in their war on terror. Al Queda, distracted from their main goal by the war in Iraq, really do want to kill your family as a new video released today proves. They have been killing Americans everyday in Iraq, but ultimately wish they could kill them here, in America, and more specifically Mitch Henderson's family in Grand Rapids, Michigan.

In a grainy video, the forty-fifth terrorist to be given the number two position since the war began, Mohamed "MoMo" Mohamed-Mohamed Smith, is seen declaring his hatred of the Henderson's and calling for an immediate Jihad on their five bedroom home in a planned community. "Allah is God," the audio starts, "and God has chosen to slaughter the trespassers on his lands until the day he may guide his peoples hands to crush the Henderson's." The video was a startling look into the world of the men whom know no happiness or have access to prime time television. "It is true, praise Allah," the latest number two goes on, "we want to kill you there, but we can't get there cause you're here. But if you leave Iraq we will come there, to kill your family, Mr. Henderson." Shocked, viewing the video for the first time on his sixty-five inch plasma television, which he recently purchased with his overstretched Best Buy credit card, Mitch couldn't understand the hatred towards him. "The Henderson's symbolize all that is wrong with the Zionist, Allah willing, and once my work visa approval is in, we will kill them." The newest number two then stood and produced a number two on a hand drawing of what was suppose to be a family portrait of the Henderson's.

The Henderson's are like most Americans, living the freedom all brown Islamic people despise. The Henderson's ability to purchase an over priced home, which consumes nearly sixty percent of the families one income in mortgage payments, soon to become more as their interest rates rise, makes a terrorists skin crawl. Mr. Henderson just opened another credit card account with his freedom adding another layer of debt, now standing at well over $90,000, something he says he knows will fuel more hatred from insurgents that cannot even apply for a car loan or know the luxury that ordering from the Crate and Barrel catalog provides. "I don't think the Jihadist can stomach that kind of freedom," says Mitch Henderson as he massaged his temples while looking over his mound of opened mail, mostly bills. As the families sole source of income, Mitch is managing well under the pressure, but sometimes wishes his wife, Shannon, would do more than make bead necklaces. Ironically, terrorists the world over love handmade jewelry and garner a high price at open air markets and bazaars.

It seems not only were republicans and vampire-humanoid daywalker Dick Cheney correct about the evil doers intentions, but no one could have guessed they had zeroed in on a target with horrific precision. Previously all warmongering politicians agreed terrorists networks of the world wished to kill all Americans, but this isn't the case. Our great leaders decided to thwart such a scenario by tossing out a bevy of young Americans for the Islamic extremist to murder in their backyard. The lure of slaughtering misguided misfortunates in their homeland quenches the blood lust, temporarily preventing them from purchasing plane tickets, obtaining passports and temporary visas, enduring security screening and background checks, going through customs, waiting periods, layovers, strip searches, cavity searches, and easily arriving on U.S. soil, to kill.

"It just goes to show you they really want to kill us. They hate freedom, more specifically, mine." said Mrs. Henderson as she loaded Martha Stewart patio set into her Ford Excursion. She didn't need the patio set as their old one was mostly new, but once she saw the Wal-Mart circular she had to have it. At the same time in Iraq six marines were killed, the exact amount the patio set seats. Coincidence? This reporter thinks otherwise.

Tony Mulroney, Bologna impresario to the stars and sometimes special correspondent

Area Man Reaches Penultimate Level Of Douchebaggedness

Sacramento, CA - David Devight, is a "balls to the wall" kind of guy, and by the looks of him, his testicles are breaking the skim coat right now. Currently, this fashion maverick and record holder for drawing the most penises on sleeping fraternity brothers faces in one night, is dressing for another night out. Usually the happy hour at T.G.I. Bennishannigans starts with free rail drinks and draft bud lights before David and crew "get the party started". Tonight, however, the "party" has begun on David's torso, more specifically, his neck area, and it's apparently going to go until the break of dawn.

David is a well regarded douchebag among his college classmates and his curly frosted hair, combed haphazardly, isn't the tell-tale factor. Nor are his arrogant plays on the football field and locker room showers the deciding douche factor. Not even his consistent need to tell attractive women at bars how "fucking hot" they are. No, it's his "popped" collars, all three of them. Practicing douchebags, like David's roommates, not only wear expensive polo shirts to show "broads" they have style and a disposable income, but they turn the collars up. This ultimately shows they are that much more douchey than other flat collared men. Adding a pair of aviator sunglasses will further enhance most meatheads to douchebag levels, but David chooses not to, as his piercing blue eyes would be hidden, a "tragedy" he says. So he prefers to add on an additional shirt, of a different color, which he says shows you have "probably twice as much money as the guy with one polo shirt."

Normally a polo shirt with an upturned collar, means a certain level of douche, but David, already having achieved a critical level of doucheness by adding a second layer of pastel Abercrombie poppedness, was embarking on a never before seen level of douche filled baggery. A pinnacle only achieved when bars close and his kind spill into the streets to instinctively shout at passing cars and fistfight with strangers. How had David single handedly achieved this previously unheard of feat? Simply, with a third polo shirt. The pink shirt, it's collar brazenly upturned like a middle finger to humanities one shirt status quo, rested atop the other two equally popped polo shirts.

"Adding that third shirt," started one of David's friends who then started shouting, "was insane bro!" He then smacked David's ass hard, his hand lingered there, and they shouted incoherently while smacking each others hands in the air, jumping at times. Others in the entourage seemed to enjoy this and encouraged them with more barking, howling, and completely non homo-erotic ass grabbing. Onlookers were flabbergasted as to why so many shirts were needed, when the half belching shout of "whoa yeah!" was heard, still no one understood.

This evolution through the doucheons seems to have no end. Ever since the first fraternity brother crushed a beer can on his forehead others have sought to advance their achievements. Next came a young fellow who opened a beer bottle utilizing a cigarette lighter only to be bested when another used his teeth. Then there was the beer funnel followed by the keg stand, and now added into the history books, along side wearing flip-flops with torn jeans, will be David and his three simultaneously popped collars.

When asked where he will go from here David, staggered to respond, "To get some trim bro." Adding that he was thinking about trying some self tanning cream, another douche trademark, to darken him up and make his baby blue eyes "pop". As their Jeep Wrangler drove off, swerving to avoid oncoming traffic, he shouted some moronic cat-calls to nearby females, living up to his "balls to the wall" credo. It wasn't certain if he would "get some trim" this night, but what was crystal clear was that he, most assuredly, is a pioneering douchebag.

Ecstasy/Rohypnol supplier and freelance college corespondent Brandino Sudo with contributions from free range chimpanzee make-up tester Pete Sudo

Colonel Discharged For Inhumane Treatment

Guantanamo Bay, Cuba - Family pet and always under foot feline, Colonel Socks, was relieved of his command today in a military tribunal. A stray cat, Mr. Bungle, who was given food by the homes owner, spotted the treatment handed out by Colonel Socks first hand and he immediately informed military officials and Fox News Channel's Greta Van Susteren. Officials first tried to cover up the report by saying the Colonel was stressed do to a lack of catnip and wet food in the home. High ranking officers said Mr. Bungle was a whistle blower, merely out to get a generous payout of scratching behind his ears. Later when photos surfaced during a segment of On the Record, hosted by Greta, the strikingly gorgeous former lawyer, they had to change their story.

The public outcry for Colonel Socks to be fired was exacerbated by stories from the families parakeet, Swoopy, who testified that he was taunted by Colonel Socks and forced to sit in his cage while the cat stared unblinking at him for hours a day, licking his paws and "fangs". "He took away my mirror and would only let me have seed twice a day," squawked the nervous bird. "The news papers in my cage were never changed and I was rooting around in my own feces for months." he added. He also charged the Colonel would remove the blanket over his cage in the middle of the night, keeping the bird from sleeping all night as he was fearful of an attack. This is a stress technique taught by the CIA to break prisoners and make them more apt to give up information one feline military expert stated under oath. Photos surfaced of the Colonel forcing Swoopy to hang upside down by his beak while he swatted at him through the bars of his cage. It was unclear why the kitty would take pictures of the incidents and even more baffling to investigators was that a cat could operate a camera.

The homes owner said Colonel Socks was just having fun and doing what normal, bored, military ranked house cats do when left alone all day. He was from the pound and this new environment with its many rooms and carefree atmosphere could easily lead to deviant behavior. "I should have spotted the signs when Socks started to dart around the house," said the cats owner. "He would be sleeping in a sunbeam and instantly jump up and run into another room for no reason at all. I guess I just thought it was normal." She mentioned other stories of the Colonel urinating on the dog's special blanket, which, although she had squirted water at him, he continued to do.

After the verdict another victim of the Colonels "hazing" as his lawyers argued, came forward. The families canine Private Benjamin or Benji as friends called him, recalled stories of torture handed out by the deranged cat. Benji was forced to roll onto his back, exposing his genitals, to show the Colonel was the dominant male in the household. This is seen as very demoralizing in the canine community and carries ramifications only Benji and other dogs understand. Other dogs like the neighbors dog whom during one visit was forced to perform a "dog pile" and imitate other homoerotic poses for the Colonels pleasure. Benji now never leaves his urine stained Spiderman blanket and will lower his head and cower when strangers enter the room.

Charges have not yet been filed on behalf of Private Benjamin, but are expected within the week. Colonel Socks could not be reached for comment as he was being transferred to an animal shelter.

Veterinary gynecologist and professional gerbil shaver Mick BoneBricker reporting

Desperate Howard K. Stern Arrives To Event With Corpse

Hollywood, CA - Howard K. Stern, parasite and lawyer of former obese trailer park resident turned poor excuse of a mother, Anna Nicole Smith, was spotted today during an opening of a Fashion Bug Plus at the Beverly Center Mall. The premortem inseparable pair was literally joined at the hip once again as destitute paparazzi drooled at the chance to sell more pics of the deceased whore. As their cameras flashed away some wise paparazzo noticed, Anna, having died not to long ago, apparently was now in quite a state of decay, but still just as ravishing as before. Rigamortis having faded, Howard awkwardly strutted the red carpet with the former playboy playmate, wearing a gorgeous dress she was buried in with only a few noticeable dirt stains. Operating her jaw, like a sexy maggot infested dry-heave inducing ventriloquist dummy act, he answered questions tossed about by journalists. "How're things since dying Anna?" one intrepid photog asked. "It's great." Obviously said Stern in a high falsetto from the corner of his mouth, "I love you all." Howard then grasped her arm and flailed it about, waiving to the fans in the mall.

Times have been tough for Stern since Anna's shockingly unexpected death, due to her use of many prescription drugs, and her life force being sucked out by the black hole of Stern's soul. Living out of Kato Kalin's trunk, posing nude for magazines like Weekly Cum Mustache, and selling his orifices for meals at Carl's Junior all contributed to the creepy virgin hitting rock bottom. Inspiration struck as he watched Weekend at Bernie's after finishing his exhausting shift at the Venice Beach glory hole, stall 32. Moments after the credits rolled, hastily scribbled notes in hand, he was digging up the corpse of his former meal-ticket and fashioning a makeshift marionette-like truss to hold the former beauty.

Apparently Anna was crudely tied to him using a phone cord, duct tape, and chop sticks from his hotel room. Sadly no attempt was made to cover her decomposing flesh as he used his last available funds to secure the Fashion Bug gig via payphone. The publicity stunt was going well until Stern, in an attempt to further hype Anna's return and possibly add another page to his forthcoming memoirs, maneuvered the floppy body into a waiting Escalade. In a never before seen event the paparazzi turned their cameras away as Stern flagrantly exposed Anna's rotten worm infested genitals to onlookers, a pose now made famous by the likes of Britney Spears, Paris Hilton, and Lindsey Lohan. "That's what it always looked like," said Stern as the Escalade screeched away blaring the hit song "Ridin Dirty" from it's array of five 12-inch trunk mounted subwoofers.

Howard did not return calls for this article, but did leave a napkin behind advertising his upcoming appearance with Anna at a Girls Gone Wild video premier. Also on the napkin, next to a picture of a hairless penis, was his schedule at the glory hole in Venice. All week, 10pm-5am.

Joey Yatzko, West Hollywood trendsetter and flamboyant miniature horse collector

Astronomer Discovers Stellar Hardbody

Renowned astrophysicist and Star Trek Fan Club charter member, Willem Von Bungtuft, discovered a previously undiscovered stellar hardbody Wednesday night while working late on a side project. After scanning the galaxy for nine straight hours with his high energy particle telescope, only taking a break to debate via online chat room whether the Klingon's or Ferengi had the better foreheads, he left to enjoy some well deserved relaxation time at T.G.I. McPoonigans, a popular adult entertainment establishment.

Willem entered the darkened strip club with the intention of seeing some "mini marshmallow sized nipples and maybe some sand dollar shaped aureolas," but he was taken aback when his star gazing eyes discovered the most glorious brown star he'd ever seen. He took a seat near the stage to focus his highly tuned optical instruments on the breathtaking body. Arched on all fours, Misty Kunt, wagged her perfectly pear shaped ass into the awaiting nose of Mr. Bungtuft, he saw the star with vivid detail now. Upon discovering her spectacular stellar body was the result of her strenuous workouts and methadone habit, Willem, leaping from his chair, went call some friends to share in his discovery. Unbeknownst to him, his choice of wearing sweatpants to the lab was most unfortunate, his erection, now stretching the soft flexible material, bumped the back of a patron's heads as he stood and turned to leave his chair. "Fucking douchbag rubbed his dick on my head," said an angry patron, keeping one fidgety hand in his pocket. "I didn't care what that nerdfuck discovered, because I made him see stars when I rammed his head into the side of my car." The man then closed his eyes and moaned softly, then went to his F150 to nap.

Rival Astrologer and 25 time Math League Champion, Harry Taintpatch PHD, claimed to have discovered this same stellar body two weeks ago and was going to challenge Willem's claims. "I was getting a pressed ham to my jewelers eye weeks ago from those huge knockers," he said wiping glitter and oily residue from his jewelers eye lens. "Willem always shows up after the fact and claims to be the first to discover things." Harry then re-affixed his lens and "got a closer look" as another fantastically tanned and toned body moved onto the stage.

Bruised form his skirmish with the burly man, now sleeping in his truck, Willem drove home and added that he saw a perfect full moon through his hazy blood crusted eye. "Right there on the highway!" he shouted. "In the passenger side window of a Chevy, was a hair covered full moon! What a night!"

Efforts to bed Misty Kunt were rejected on the grounds of this reporters skin color, but a private dance was well within reasonable boundaries.

Whitey O'Frecklestienbaumberg Sudonews Albino division.

Boy Wonder Losing Patience With Ailing Batman

What started out as "just a cough" then progressed to a 24-hour flu, has now digressed to case of severe pneumonia with touch of the gout as caped crusader Batman called in sick again this week. Making this the third straight week of an unrelenting crime spree in Gotham city. Such a streak has not been seen since several years ago when billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne took a five week vacation, Batman said the coincidence was merely "odd". The crime-fighter's lifepartner, trusted sidekick, and boy wonder, was beginning to show signs of frustration with his mentor said Police Commissioner Gordon in a telephone interview. "He is really not doing so well, I heard that Two-face de-pants Robin the last time he saw him and the Joker slapped his belly pink," said Gordon. "Sad really, kid gets no respect." Allegations that the Riddler made a witty poem about Robins mother's vagina being used by many unsavory men was not confirmed nor denied.

When reached for comment, the overburdened wonderboy, now seeming to be in his mid to late thirties and far to old to still be claiming boy, Robin, said he didn't feel anyone gave him the respect he deserves. "I been busting my balls helping Batman," he stated. "Gordon calls and immediately asks for Batman, then sighs when I tell him he is still sick...and then he says, 'Well I guess you will have to do." Robin changed his tone to sound like a sniveling brat when imitating the Commissioner, showing his disgust.

Robin also complained Batman keeps all his important files, gadgets, cockrings and nipple clamps locked away in his secret locker, which is accessed through the Bat-computer by a password only the Dark Knight himself knows. "The reason all those people died during a private fund raiser last week is because the antidote for the Joker's laughing gas nerve agent is stored on Batman's fucking computer!" Robing said shifting his position in the sidecar of the Bat-bike, which was being driven by Batman via a remote control unit in his Bat-recovery room. "Whatever, if he wants to keep his shit all locked up then fine. I just do my job and that's it." When I asked why Batman would keep such vital things locked away Robin responded, "Because if I had all that stuff then I wouldn't need him. It just makes him feel important or something. He's got no other options really, I can always get another job, but he is stuck doing this. Its his job security I guess." There was a noise from the Bat-bike's intercom and it sped away, controlled by Batman somewhere, possibly annoyed with the questioning.

Batman is expected to break his fever later this week and civilians in Gotham are eagerly awaiting his return.

Clark Kent, Daily Planet a Sudonews sponsor.

Loosing Ground For Nomination McCain Tries New Tactic

On board the opulent Straight Talk bus, feisty Senator John Sidney McCain III, sitting on his nickle-plated Beday, is organizing a plan to shift his ranking among fellow Republican candidates, each vying for their parties nomination in the 2008 presidential elections. Steadily losing ground to a Rudy Giuliani, who appeared on television several times, between visits to his mistress, when terrorists attacked his city, still holds a commanding lead for the position.

The men converse with terse faces as McCain fidgeted his socked feet on the marbled floors of the state of the art bus bound for middle America. "It's unheard of in this day and age John!" said one soon to be fired intern. Giving the man an evil eye that would give Lucifer the green-apple splatters, McCain fired back, "I don't give a flying fuck what you say," he stood, pants at his ankles, pointing his meaty finger in the intern's face. "It's gonna happen! Just like me breaking my motherfucking foot off, in your fudgepacking ass!" A dwarf then entered the room offering an Egyptian cotton washcloth, which the Senator used to wipe is posterior, then placing the towel on the dwarf's head, he left.

After surgeons reattached the senators left foot he held a press conference to state his plan for gaining new supporters and reinvigorating old ones. "As I stand here today," he said. "I realize that my popularity is deteriorating and I must do something to become the revered former tortured, sympathy inspiring hero, and Senator, I was years ago." McCain became choked up at this point, glancing at the life-sized cardboard cut out of his family on the stage, he bit his lower lip and continued, "As of next week I will be returning to a tiger cage in Hoa Lo Prison." Some gasps were heard from the crew of forty Fox News reporters and the two others from some less reputable news organizations.


John's previous stay in the prison resulted from his plane crash near Truc Bach Lake, Vietnam in 1963. The crash left him with broken arms and his leg fractured, he was then beaten before being taken to the prison or what hardened non-combat veterans like, George W. Bush, call the "Hanoi Hilton." One crushed shoulder and a bayonet to the groin later, he was in the cage he now plans to visit again. "If need be, I will put a potato sack of rabid mice over my head to win this fucker." Declared the former prisoner of war, adjusting his suit fashioned from several American flags recovered from ground zero.

After the press conference John boarded a cargo plane for Vietnam and said after several months in the cage he will place it, him still inside, atop his Straight Talk bus, where he will give speeches. "People love a war hero, not a drag queen." he said boarding the plane, referring to Giuliani's liberal stance on wearing dresses and dancing with dirty Puerto Ricans.

Advanced numbers on the amount of a boost this will give the Senator were not given at press time.

Story submitted by covert CIA operative, Lane Johnsonberg, soon to be outed by the Bush Administration for placing the wrong take out order from P.F. Changs.

Democrats Propose Pullout, Oppose Prolonged Occupation

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Manager Fired Over Conditions At Walter Reed Starbucks

Store manager Jeff Bliechner, of the Starbucks located outside Walter Reed Hospital, was relieved of his duties after embarrassing news reports surfaced depicting the squalid conditions soldiers and family members visiting wounded soldiers at the nearby hospital faced when patronizing the coffee house.

An investigation carried out by Washington Post Style section columnist, Linton Montgomery, reveled allegations of lattes served with almost 90% foam, no low fat soy available, beverages served at 88 degrees and not the recommended 196 degrees, and one soldier, who chose not to be named, sitting for several hours in his own car reading a two day old Wall Street Journal purchased from the mismanaged store. "It's sickening to know he was there for hours soaking in days old information, writhing in laughter from a Dilbert cartoon featuring Catbert as head of the H.R. Department. For gods sake everyone knew the strip had moved onto another storyline about the new guy that's shaped like a water cooler!" said a Starbucks vice president, Steve Cahn, outraged by the lack of customer service. "The worst part is, when the manager was asked if he knew the man was absorbing outdated stock figures and festering in obsolete editorials he said 'I'm doing the best I can' like it was not his fault!"

Starbucks CEO Howard Shultz released a statement saying he endorsed the decision to remove Bleichner. "The care and welfare of coffee served to people stopping by after visiting our wounded men and women in uniform, and those who simply enjoy a good cup of coffee, demand the highest standard of excellence and commitment that we can muster as a corporation," Shultz wrote. "When this standard is not met, I will insist on swift and direct corrective action and, where appropriate, accountability up the chain of command." He then smiled revealing severely coffee stained teeth.

Jeff's attorney said the failures were due to Steve Cahn's recent budget cuts, which reduced their staff from 6 barristas to 2 leaving one the espresso steamer and blender unmanned. The article goes further to say Steve, a former Halliburton executive, took over as the district manager of the Walter Reed Starbucks and the surrounding 17 Starbucks and since that time the customer service and other problems started to surface.

Employees say that Jeff is just the fall guy for the Starbucks as he was really trying to turn things around, but was blocked by Steve's executive decisions motivated by his need to meet budget and receive a huge quarterly bonus. Steve immediately hired, Neyna Rose, the former manager who resigned to work as a cake decorator, to replace Jeff; she is to instigate change at the store. Best known for her bungling a sweet sixteen party of a prominent Starbucks corporate executive. Miss Rose ruined the festivities when she couldn't deliver the custom made cake on time and instead produced a fudgy the whale Carvel ice cream cake purchased at a nearby supermarket to disappointed guests.

Across the street caffeinated citizens were oblivious of the treatment of the soldiers, "Which Starbucks?" said one women. "The one right there across the street next to the Dunkin Donuts? Or the one In the Safeway in the shopping center nearby? Wait. There is one in the same shopping center, but not in the Safeway, which is next to the old Starbucks no one goes to anymore since they built that new Starbucks inside the McDonalds." She then drove off into rush hour traffic in her Chevy Tahoe featuring several yellow "support the troops" ribbon magnets.

Last week Starbucks took disciplinary action against several lower-level barrista's at the Walter Reed store, but officials have declined to publicly confirm any details of those actions.

In a constant state of denial, Al "Drink like fish" Hines, Sudonew's only American Indian reporter.

President Bush Declares Troop Surge "Complete Success"

Washington D.C. - While the 110Th Congress was drafting a nonbinding vapid inconsequential fustian resolution, which would embolden our enemies and put America’s children and families in danger. Hard nosed Texan and straight talking President, George W. Bush, in another example of his unwavering commitment to his TelePrompTer provided words, enacted a secret troop surge involving a singe troop.

Congress and the American public were informed of a surge involving a deployment of 21,000 additional troops to Iraq, but this was merely a ploy to confuse terrorist networks operating in the war zone. Pentagon officials and President Bush kept the covert mission a secret, they and hybrid human vampire, known as a daywalker, Vice President Dick Cheney, knew the real surge involved none other than retired special forces soldier John J. Rambo.

John Rambo was reluctant to aid the U.S. government this time due to his previous secret mission to then Soviet controlled Afghanistan where he aided Afghan rebels in decimating Russian forces to save his captured former commander Colonel Trautman. He was now being asked to obliterate these same rebels now killing American troops in Baghdad, the heart of Al-Qaeda's terrorist network and home to hidden caches of weapons of mass destruction. Timid war engineers persuaded Mr. Rambo to undertake this mission by informing him insurgents, in the Shiite controlled slums of Sadr city, had captured Colonel Trautman and threatened to behead him if U.S. troops did not end their occupation. The mental image of his former commander having his throat slit triggered images of his time in a North Vietnamese POW camp, causing his killer instincts to kick in and he agreed to the mission.

Curators at the National Archives were told to retrieve the soldiers top secret bandanna stored in a vault beneath the vault housing the Constitution. The secret vault holds the magical bandanna which grants the incomprehensible ability to never be shot, form perfect military strategies, and a cloaking device to make the wearer invisible to enemies.

Sneaking into Baghdad unnoticed under the cover of a cloudless sunny day he single handedly wiped out every insurgent on his route to Sadr city, unseen. In his official debriefing he stated that he snuck from home to home breaking the necks of his enemy, silently slicing their throats, and tightening his headband when needed with a dead far off look in his eyes. After killing all the terrorist in Baghdad he realized his mission was a farce and his commanding officers didn't care if he made it out alive or not. He also discovered that Colonel Trautman wasn't in the city as he was a fictional character from a movie about another fictional character.

A scary moment occurred as John was escaping Iraq. His jeep struck and improvised explosive device hurdling him into the Euphrates river. Remaining militiamen cheered "Allah Ackbar" and "God is great" as they danced around the twisted wreckage. The freedom hating towel heads were unaware that behind them John Rambo was emerging from the river in slow motion, which requires the ability to slow time and bend all laws of physics, another ability attributed to the headband. He rose from the murky brown water wielding a fully automatic M60 machine gun in each arm, multiple belts of bullets criss-crossing his shaved glistening tanned chest and wrapping around his thick vein covered forearms; his menacing lower lip dropped drastically on one side. He let out a terrifying battle cry and the militiamen were so stricken with fear they could only stand in horror as they were all mowed down by the intense firepower. After killing the last insurgent John raised his guns in the air continuing to relieve the hot barrels into the sky until his belts of ammunition were empty.

In a separate incident an Apache helicopter crew was gunned down in heavy gunfire. Four brave soldiers died in the crash military investigators say must have occurred from the insurgents firing their guns into the air during their celebration of what they thought was John Rambo's death. The lead investigator and his team later resigned their posts so they could spend more time with their children.

Upon returning to the States from his victory he greeted his superiors with resentment and anger for throwing a black tie only victory dinner party, which he was not invited to. The attendees seemed to care little for John's sacrifices as the chatted about pork barrel projects. Admiral William Fallon spotted the shirtless Rambo and said, "Rambo, I swear to God, I didn't know it was supposed to happen like this. It was just supposed to be another assignment!" he then sampled some caviar from a passing tray adding, "Honestly, what did you want? It's over forget it, you'll get a medal of honor." Johns anger reached a boiling point as he shouted, "You know what I want, what they want, and every other guy who went over there and spilled his guts and gave everything he had, wants! For our country to love us as much as we love it! That's what I want!" He then stormed out knocking over the crystal punch bowl. When asked by reporters how he was going to live the rest of his life he said simply, "Day by day."
Embedded and ingrown, Marshal Murdoch reporting from the green zone, Baghdad.

Study Shows Income Gap Continues To Widen Between Americans

Washington - New reports indicate wages have stagnated and upper upper middle high class millionaires are shouldering a larger tax burden while uber-rich American billionaires prosper. Prices for plastic surgery, custom built villas, high roller suites, caviar and imported Italian leather have soared to record levels, but Timmy Patrick Bryce hasn't noticed. He is out shopping for a new Tag Heuer watch to replace the one he is currently wearing. "There is nothing wrong with it, but this fucker only has twelve carats of diamonds in it and it's shitterific white gold not platinum," he said looking over the sparkling watches finding one he liked with a price tag of $55,000. The helpful staff offered to take his old watch as a trade in and then resell it to which he responded, "Who the fuck would want a shitty used watch? I will take the fucker home and crush the shit out of it in the fucking garbage disposal."

Statistics show one million new jobs have been added back to the 2.6 million lost since Bush took office, but many of these jobs offer fewer benefits and pay far less than what a current CEO is making in salary alone. Factor in their stock options and the gap is even more staggering. Shmeul Jacob Fineburg an economic analyst grimly laid out the facts on the ever increasing income gap, "The average CEO is making well over $200 million a year now and his vice presidents are barely making ends meet on a miniscule $800,000 a year. If something isn't done soon these upper upper middle class citizens will suffer even more."

Average family budgets have been tightened cutting out every unnecessary expenditure. Ronald Boone, a senior vice president with Charles Schwab just received a second job at the Shits and Jiggles Peep show to add to his paltry salary of $1.2 million, which includes stock options. Ronald works as an intern spooge mopper, a job that has no pay, but if his trial period garners favorable reviews from the seedy clientele he may be offered a full time position with pay. "With every drop of warm cum I mop up I am putting myself and my broker closer to getting a meal at Naboo." he said wiping his sweating brow with his sleeve, leaving a white pastelike substance behind, which he quickly removed while dry heaving. "They can't expect us to live off a few million a year. It's not fucking right."

The traditional one income family has been altered as women are forced to return to the workforce to help pay bills. Erica Bertrand, an attorney struggling to live on her $2.3 million income, recently started selling her body for extra money and on occasion will suck dick for botox injections. She has succeeded in paying the mortgage on her six bedroom Malibu home, but it also meant fewer dinners at Mr. Chows, two caramel cafe lattes a day, postponed dermabrasion appointments, settling for vacations to Dubai, and delayed doggie resort and day spa payments. She has resorted to shopping at retail stores and not buying directly from the designers as she would in the past. "It's really tough to see wives of these super rich CEO's wearing one of a kind Fabiana dresses while I have to settle for a Versace from last fall. I would have to suck five dicks for a Fabiana. My jaw just can't handle it anymore."

New government data also shows that Bush's tax cuts have shifted the overall tax burden from the utterly unfathomably fucking wealthiest Americans to mediocre rich Americans. Uber-rich-fucking-tastic-Americans like Danny Hannigan Warbucks a media mogal and member of the Super Yacht Society who is shopping for a third yacht today. "I fuckin' told myself, Danny, every fuckin’ time that income gap widens, fuckin’ buy yourself another mother fucking yacht, Danny." He perused the luxury yacht warehouse in Saint-Tropez driving a golf cart as his four-piece-suit made of sterling silver was too cumbersome to walk in. Behind the golf cart was a diamond and ruby encrusted Brinks truck stuffed with the $100 million cash he was using to buy the new yacht.

When asked about being so insanely wealthy when others are merely financially secure his son, Chip Warbucks, said, "It's fucking great! I am so God damned rich my shit earns interest. I will never work a fuckin' day in my motha fuckin' spoon fuckin' fed life!" The then defecated on a dark skinned man cleaning the docks because rich people "can do whatever they mother fuckin' want" he said wiping his ass with a towel dipped in gold. Mr. Warbucks daughter was not present during the interview, she was home planning her sweet sixteen party, which was to be filmed for MTV later that week. A text message from her publicist stated, "ur not invited lol Its gonna be the biggest shit eva"

Sinking further into depression, Mellie Mel "The Mailman" Melbourne, reporting.

World's Best Grandpa Competition Clouded in Controversy

America has chosen Tieyaown Shoolaces as the front runner in this years World's Best Grandpa competition with just two more episodes to go. W.B.G. is the ratings juggernaut produced by Simon Cowell for the Fox network and is sweeping the nation.

The show pits America's Grandfathers against each other while a panel of three senior celebrity judges pick 12 finalists, then turn the judging over to the viewers who ultimately decide who is the best Grandpa in the world. The winner receives a Worlds Best Grandpa T-shirt, lifetime (3 years) supply of Ensure, and a coupon for Old Country Buffet, but most importantly the title of Worlds Best Grandpa, which no other man with a child whom has his own child can claim for one year. (Sudonews interns discovered anyone can buy a coffee mug or T-shirt with the phrase printed on it, which are sold at various novelty stores across the nation.)

Several seniors are seething over Mr. Shoolaces participation in the event seeing as he became a Grandpa at the age of 35, a good 30 years younger than the other competitors, but according to the rules there is no minimum age to qualify.

Tieyaown has wowed the kids with his large automobile featuring flashy over-sized wheels, video game systems, and jacuzzi ball bin, which judges had to physically remove the urine smelling tots from. During his one on one times with the toddlers "T-man" gave them gallons of Cherry Kool-Aid from his ample supply and brought them to other contestants homes where they destroyed marigolds, left the hose running, and ate all the candy from the dish on their coffee tables, which was supposed to last for years. "They gots to step up they game. Tieyaown is running this joint bitches! What!" said the would be World's Best Grandpa as he flashed his shiny platinum teeth, thew his hands up in the air, and did a joyous dance in a fashion indicative to a person with little worry.

Competitors are having to rethink strategies to compete with this new breed of younger senior. Pulling a quarter from behind ear, as Sol O'Rosenberg found out, isn't going to cut it anymore. Kids today aren't fooled by slight of hand like in the old days. "I tried to get them to do some yard work for a quarter and they laughed at me." said Sol, his voice filling with anger. He took a long pull from his Pal Mal filterless cigarette and continued, "A quarter! Why in my day that would pay the rent, get you a soda pop, seventeen comic books, two tickets to a moving picture show, and one ticket for the peep show with money left over for a tip." He exhaled adding, "Fucking ungrateful bastards, I didn't fight in dubya dubya two for this."

Other Grandpas in the running threatened to ride their Rascal scooters out of the contest because of the younger generation Granddad. "It's not fair," shakily said contestant Harvey Burroughs through his Parkinson's stricken lips. "He doesn't even have an oxygen tank to walk around with and I hear he stays up till all hours of the night, past four p.m." he added. Another geriatric quipped, "He probably has his original hip bones!" The Granddads were mounting a effort to evict Tieyaown from the competition based on his inability to acquire senior discounts at movies.

The underdog, Uncle Charlie, with his knock knock jokes and pockets full of candy putting him in the lead with viewers, was kicked off the show last week. Allegations of inappropriate touching surfaced during the Quality Time round. Charlie took several kids fishing using his personal windowless van and the children said they couldn't talk about their time, but didn't enjoy the fishing trip. The shows producers searched then van and found candy laced with crystal meth, a round DNA stained leopard print bed, and what authorities call "homemade upskirt videos" of women at Uncle Charlie's retirement home.

Popular straight talking judge Wilford Brimley scolded Uncle Charlie during last weeks episode, "You can't take kids into your van alone, dog. Dude, kids can't watch that kind of thing, it's not right dog." he paced the stage adding, "I gave the kids a bowl of hot cereal and they seem ok now." He then had to sit as his feet were swollen from his diabetes, saying, "My feet fucking hurt, dog."

Eager fans are awaiting this weeks episode where highlights show George Meesley suffering a setback during the Story Time event when a toddler, climbing onto his lap, ruptured his colostomy bag. The clip also showed Tieyaown at Six Flags winning enormous stuffed animals for several kids from the 3-point challenge carnival game. Looks like the competition is in the bag for the young Granddad.

World's Best Grandpa airs tonight at 8pm and reruns all day Saturday and Sunday.
Tip Kurdsway reporting for Sudonews, Pink-Eye on Entertainment Division.

Kid Rock’s Penis Threatening to Leave Pseudo Redneck/Whigga Star

In an exclusive one-on-one interview, Kid Rock’s penis revealed that he is angry and thinking of leaving Rock altogether. Sudonews sat down last Thursday with Rock’s Cock, as he affectionately is called, at the Chatuaeu Marmont in Beverly Hills. Rock’s Cock showed up wearing sunglasses (well, a darkened monocle), a red scarf and puffed on a clove cigarette as the interview began.

Sudonews: So why are you thinking of leaving Kid Rock?

Rock’s Cock: Look, I’m tired of all the bullshit, okay? This guy has no taste anymore. Well, he never had any taste, let's just say it's gone way downhill. At first things were good, back in the day we’d be trolling trailer parks, trying to get his redneck street cred up, and I didn’t mind the trailer park girls, cause most of them didn’t have many teeth. But things are out of control now.

Sudonews: What exactly do you mean? You've seen some nice trim, haven't you?

R.C.: Hell yeah, I've been in some schweeet tang, oh I could tell you. It's the whole Pam Anderson thing. I told him it wasn’t a good idea back in ’01, what the hell was he thinking that I could follow Tommy Lee, that guy’s got a baby’s arm down there, no way I could compete. Look at me, I’m pathetically small, though I do have a nice turtleneck, don’t you think? (R.C. pulled his scarf to the side).

Sudonews: Yes, it’s quite handsome, wait you have no turtleneck on!

R.C.: Yes, it’s all me. I have self esteem issues because I was never a ‘cut above’, as they say. You know, I'm uncircumcised. I look like the Unabomber. An anteater. I’m an uncut.

Rock’s Cock then began to cry and a tear streamed out of his one eye. He quickly pulled the scarf around his, well, headless shaft.

Sudonews: So you were afraid you couldn’t fill Tommy Lee’s shoes?

R.C.: Yeah, basically. I mean Robby (Robert Richie, Kid Rock’s real name) completely shaves his pubes to make me look bigger, and uses theatrical makeup to add some shadows and veins, but the chicks know the difference. He even let that midget hang around so we'd look bigger during orgies. Despite that, we made it through the first round with Pam.

Sudonews: So this divorce, that’s what did it?

R.C.: Divorce? Shoulda never been a marriage. I can put up with the hookers, trannies, maphros, that awkward trip to Neverland Ranch. But how do you get with a chick after she announces she has the Hep? Plus she's been banged more than Andy Dick. Are you fucking nuts?

R.C. laughed to himself, apparently in the penis world asking someone if they are nuts is hilariously ironic.

Sudonews: You do have a point, I once dumped a chick because I found out she had a penis. That was Jessica Simpson.

R.C.: Exactly my point. Look at me, I’m all covered in sores now, hell the balls won’t even talk to me anymore, saying Rob thinks with me, I’m the leader. We all know that’s bullshit. If I was in charge the Uncle Kracker thing woulda never happened.

Sudonews: Are you saying Kid Rock had sex with Uncle Kracker?

R.C.: Hell no, I mean we wouldn’t have put out 5 shitty Uncle Kracker albums. Dude, I’m not gay.

Sudonews: So what will you do if you leave Kid Rock?

R.C.: I dunno, travel a bit, maybe take up cooking. I guess I can model for medical books now.

And with that statement, Rock's Cock stood up and abruptly left. I was later told that Kid Rock rushed out to try and meet up with herpied pseudo-celebrity/real whore Paris Hilton.

Kid rock’s hairless shriveled balls were unavailable for comment.

Interview by Jean-Luc Sudo, sudonews Cock, Ball and Taint Division, Testicales, California.

SudoNews investigates: Jessica Simpson A Man?

Jessica Simpson can add another bullet point to her mediocre career according to a new report today from SudoNews solicitation specialist and investigative correspondent Charlie Tackletaint. Already known as a former celebrity, horrendous singer, stupendously insufferable actor, and festering idiot, she can now claim successfully living life as a women who was born a man. The former wife of a boy band member with less notoriety than O-Town is in fact a man states Mr. Tackletaint. Charlie recently finished his thirty-two part series on how he proved this quietly tucked away secret. "It's is a stunning look into the world of transgender performers, their gender bending ways, how they duct tape their dicks into their ass cracks, and how Hollywood elite protect their true identities." says an editor of ChixWitDix.com, a site frequented by desperate husbands trying to figure out why men who could pass for woman are attractive and why they are aroused by them.

Charlie delved deep into his work, living in the less than lustrous world of Thailand and its Brown Light District known for prostitution and underage sex clubs, which provide pay-to-play services for travelers looking to fornicate with men who dress as women. This trip was not sanctioned or provided by his employer SunoNews, but Mr. Tackletaint said it was a vital component to his investigations. "I needed to get inside them. Have first hand knowledge of these men who are one operation away from being a woman, just like Jessica Simpson or Jesse Aaron Simpson, as his birth certificate indicates."

Shocking interviews with Jessica's former husband Nick Lachey, a known homosexual purely based off his tribal arm band tattoos, proved his theory. In the interview Charlie prods Nick into divulging he never had sex with his ex-wife with the lights on, only had sex doggy style, and she was so good at fellatio that he questioned where she gained such knowledge since she claimed to be a virgin. Nick speculated she/he would only know to handle his organ so well if she had one herself. "She operated my hog like she had been using one for years," he said, then added, "ever notice how her jawbone is more rigid than mine and how she farted all the time? Only men do that." Charlie agreed then declined Nick's invitation to "wrastle" in the backyard and cut the interview short.

In one scene from the highlight reel, shown to SudoNews staff, famous transgender celebrity Alexis Arquette is overheard at a posh Hollywood eatery saying, "I feel bad for Jesse, he tries so hard, but even I look more feminine than her." He then adjusted the bulge between his legs by reaching under his tight Versace dress. "Fuck, I hate when I sit on my balls." he giggled to fellow diners who vomited slightly in their own mouths.

When asked to comment on Jessica's mannish chin, ass, hands, and strong dimpled jawline his father Joe Simpson said, "That's absurd, Jessica is a beautiful, large breasted woman. Have your seen her tits? They are huge. I would fuck her and I have, not in the ass either. Missionary style so I could look right at her vagina." He quickly ended the interview to take pictures of his other unattractive offspring, Ashley, as she exited a plastic surgeons office.

Charlie's series will air all this month on The CW network. He continues to reside and report from his cell in Thailand as he awaits trial for allegedly killing fourteen male prostitutes.

Sudonews Probes Richard Gere Gerbil Rescue Operation

Sudonews investigators busted what appeared to be a homoerotic business at Richard Gere’s Pleasure Dome Gerbil Rescue Farm. The three-month investigation, which took this Sudonews reporter undercover, mostly nude but sometimes in a speedo, was concluded yesterday.

Sudonews found an elaborate shaving and lubing operation, with gerbils in different states of fully haired, partially shaven, and fully shaven. I saw what appeared to be an assembly line of gerbils being packaged and sent out in a box with “ass grease”, a feeding tube, and a 1-800 hotline “in case your gerbil gets stuck”. I called the hotline, and was given a plethora of language choices that included English, Spanish, French, and Ebonics. I pressed “fo” for Ebonics, where what appeared to be the voice of Kevin Federline saying, “jus pull that mofo out chor ass, man use a coat hanga, fo sho.” Scared that I would be impregnated through the phone, I hung up immediately.

When confronted with the evidence Mr. Gere said, “we shave them down, yeah, it’s LA, and hot. Plus some of them like to tan out back with me in my totally erotic and fully nude tanning night club.” I doubted this excuse, for a check of the temperature showed it was 58 degrees that day, and most gerbils were wearing makeshift fur coats fashioned out of Antarctic penguin toe jam. Mr. Gere then took us to his nightclub, which included several rainbow flags on 3 foot flagpoles, which were fully greased at the top and included a record board that said “2.89 feet, Paris Hilton, vagina and mouth, 3 feet, hershey highway, Matthew McConaughey (three times, before bong hits)”, a taint shaving kit, hundreds of nude pictures of the Dali Lama, and several muscular Speedo clad young men he referred to as “pool boys”.

I could accept this, for I saw the same operation at Ben Affleck’s house a couple months back, except the poolboy in his case was Matt Damon, the nude pictures were of Rosie O’Donnell, and they used hamsters. I figure all of Hollywood’s leading men have such tanning night clubs, I’ve read about parties thrown by Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt, Keanu Reeves, and pox marked star Ray Liotta.

I could not accept the assembly line. I confronted Mr. Gere, where he claimed, “Oh, those are for jokes, ya know, bachelor parties and such.” As he finished, I heard a squeaking sound, and Mr. Gere grabbed a handful of Richard Gere’s Erotic Gerbil Feed and appeared to stuff it into a tube at the back of his pants. He quickly tussled his t-shirt, which read “Packing Heat” with a picture of a gerbil giving the “thumbs up”. When he turned around the back of the shirt said “One in the Oven” with an arrow pointing towards his brown eye. The feed bag said, “here at Richard Gere’s Erotic Gerbil Feed, we know how important it is to keep the party going. We guarantee to keep your gerbil alive for a week or you’ll get a free visit to my personal tanning club.” Underneath, in really small print, it read, “only really hot guys and Lou Gosset, Jr. are eligible for tanning club trip.”

In the end, no charges were filed against Mr. Gere, for lack of evidence. His lawyer, famed attorney and infomercial salesman Buckinald J. Stevens IV, told Sudonews that “this is all circumstantial evidence that wouldn’t hold up in court. I assure you that Mr. Gere has never shoved nor does he have gerbils shoved up his ass. Bowling trophies? Yes. Cindy Crawford’s mole? Of course. But gerbils? This man showed his wang in An Officer and a Gentleman. ‘Nuff said.” As he finished a gerbil climbed down from the back of Mr. Stevens pants on a rope made from ass hairs and corn. The gerbil had a 5 o’clock shadow and nearly escaped, only to have the speedo clad boys wrangle him up with fishing nets.

Sudonews is dedicated to stay behind this story for as long as it takes. A baker’s dozen of these gerbils has been ordered and will be fully tested for a 13-part investigation.

Rico Sudo, Sudonews Homo Division, West Hollywood, CA.

Kirstie Alley Still Alive, Fat.

Hollywood, California - Kirstie Alley a quasi famous actress and former attractive woman was found to still be breathing of her on free will today. Kirstie is barely known for being sexy ages ago when standards for the moniker were much lower than current measures. The former star lost her luster, but then rose from obese obscurity to chubby mediocrity as the spokesperson for Jenny Craig, a weight loss program. She was found alive and well after her personal nurse discovered her unconscious in a hotel room not choking on her own vomit. "She is a very heavy sleeper," said the nurse whom dialed 911 in shock upon seeing her alive.

Upon asking witnesses, who saw Kirstie walking on her own accord to an awaiting police cruiser, most said they had remembered seeing the star just recently on television. Adding, she now looked less cumbersome than the last time they saw her on the cover of a tabloid. News pundits covering the unfolding drama remembered her as, "That woman on Cheers", or "That women who wore a bathing suit in some movie, but then got really fat," and another mentioned her failed revival on the small screen in her series Fat Actress.

Upon searching Kirsties' refrigerator authorities found several whole rotisserie chickens, five bundt cakes, thirty-five snac-pac pudding cups, methadone, soy sauce, slim fast drinks, and way too many marshmallow peeps. Investigations as to whether these items contributed to her size, continued life, and heavy sleep is still underway.

Fear struck countless fans of former attractive women celebrities according to some drunkard in a bar and possibly your inebriated friend after the death of the most famous formerly attractive, then obese, then semi-attractive again celebrity, Anna Nicole Smith. Farrah Faucet, Demi Moore, Sally Struthers, and Delta Burke were all found to be still living and still not nearly as attractive as before. Their conditions will he monitored for several weeks or until the next pseudo celebrity dies.

Buckinald Hubert Stevens, III, LL.D - Paparazzi Fluffer, Hollywood Div.

Online Gaming champion arrested, thoroughly embarrassed.

Sacramento, California - Earlier this week police entered the home of Donna Tyson and confiscated a computer, Jergens lotion, and a crusted sock owned by her son David. The police were lead to the home as part of an online sting operation conducted by a special task force within the counties Child Predator Unit.

The thirty-five year old professional electronic sports competitor, David Tyson, had been chatting via instant messenger, lotion nearby, with a male detective for several days. He was soliciting the boy for deviant acts and making extensive grammatical errors, sexual in nature. The detective posed as a 13-year-old boy, chatted with David, whom in the gaming world is known as L33tSauz01, and wanted to meet for sex. Their conversations resulted in the district attorney filing for David's arrest. He was charged with soliciting sex online from a decoy posing as a 13-year-old, which is a felony.

Until now Dave Tyson was known as the number two man in the Cyberathlete Professional League (CPL), behind none other than Jonathan Wendel, screenname Fatal1ty. Self proclaimed "King Nerd" whom in addition to racking up over $500,000 in competition earnings says he has had sex with a real woman, more than once, an attractive woman. When police burst into Dave's home, owned by his mother, he was at a friends LAN party practicing for an upcoming competition. He heard the investigators were ransacking his basement apartment searching for evidence and he was overtaken with "fear and shock" say his friends.

"He was frantic," said Brian Coffey a fellow virgin and obese Trekkie. "He was scared shit-less because he knew it would be on the news, he used his old eMachine computer for chatting with underage boys," he added. Local news reporters filmed the computer being taken from the home. The eMachine featured a 133 megahertz processor with on board soundcard, 128 megabytes of RAM, and a paltry twenty gigabytes of storage space. Where investigators found large amounts of David's pictures, most depicted him naked or showing an erection through his authentic Jedi robe. The same picture he sent to the decoy with the tag, "istha force in you lol? I wan't 2 destroy ur brown death-star teehee".

Another loser, giving the name Tolk1enRulz, confirmed the embarrassment Dave felt, "Yeah, he is like number two in the gaming world and people will see that computer on TV and think he's pathetic," he said adjusting is bugle boy slacks back to their position above his waistline.

When asked for comment Dave stated, "My rig is really an Alienware Aroura ALX! Not that cream colored hunk of shit the police took!" He was then slammed to the ground and handcuffed. "It has an AMD Athlon 64 X2 6000 dual core processor and two Geforce 7900GTX graphics cards," he shouted, grass stuffed into his mouth. "2.5 terabytes of storage! Terabytes! Do you even know what that is?" With a knee pressed hard into his lower neck he stopped his cries. His thick glasses lay on the ground, broken, much like his dreams of beating his record for continuous gaming, which still stands at thirty-nine hours. A feat he achieved one weekend while his mother was out of town and his friend, an intern at a nearby hospital, let him borrow a bedpan.

As he was sentenced he pleaded with the judge and jury saying, "Please your honor, I want everyone to know. That was just a computer for messing around. My real computer costs, like, ten thousand dollars," he began to sob. "I would never have done this if I knew people would see that computer, it didn't even have a side cover or dual sink heat fins."

David was sentenced to a term of no less than five years, his mother when asked for comment stated, "It's good he finally moved out." His sock, however, was not returned.

John Faucette, contributing editor to the Klingon Federation Chronicle.