Stupid man who can’t play chess resorts to empty threats

WASHINGTON—Unable to win a chess game against me, a frustrated man is using empty threats and other juvenile methods of intimidation in hopes of overpowering me.

Francisco Madero, 57, gave up all hope when I took his queen early on in the game.

“He put his knight on C7 and put me in check, and I could have castled before that, but I forgot to do that,” he said. “And then the only thing I could do was to take the knight with my queen, and that’s when he took her with that goddamn bishop.”

A flustered and fuming Mr. Madero glowered at me. Caressing his now taken queen, he hissed, “I loved that woman. I loved her more than sharks love blood.”

“F. U., you dumb piece of shit,” I explained.

“A lion does not ask permission before he eats a zebra,” he retorted. “So I’m gonna eat your zebra.”

“But there is no fucking lion. Or zebra. You don’t even have your queen and bishops anymore,” I explained. “But yeah, I’ll have your antelope medium rare.”

“You’d better watch your mouth,” he hissed.

“Hey, man. If you don’t like how the table is set, turn over the table,” I said.

Mr. Madero complied, literally turning the table to play white instead. He said, as he shifted his chair closer to the table, “Power is a lot like real estate. It’s about location, location, location.”

Much to Mr. Madero’s chagrin, I again gained the upper hand. “Eat that, motherfucker,” I said, as I took his last rook. But he refused to back down.

“The road to power is paved with hypocrisy. And casualties,” he whispered, choking back tears. “There are two kinds of pain. The sort that makes you strong, or useless pain. The sort of pain that’s only suffering. I have no patience for useless things.”

I moved a piece.

“Checkmate.”

 

 

Impoverished men to sell lush eyebrows for survival

ALBUQUERQUE—After falling victim to a massive Ponzi Scheme, three men are looking to alleviate their financial troubles by selling their lush eyebrows to the wig company Romero Wigs.

“When I was just a little boy, my mother would read me stories like ‘The Gift of the Magi’,” said Dr. Zachary Quinto, who came up with the idea. “I remember how women in those stories would sell their hair for money, so I thought, hey, why not sell eyebrows?”

Fellow eyebrow seller and police officer Nestor Carbonell, however, was less optimistic. “You think I like giving up my eyebrows?” he said. “You don’t look at me or my eyebrows. If you so much as peek at my face, I’ll cut your fucking throat and shove it up your ass.”

“As for me, I like to think that I’m a realist,” said eyebrow seller Marius Stan. “You see, I’ve been working at this car wash for more than 20 years, and it’s not easy. Life is tough. A man has to be tough. A man has to do what he has to do. These are just eyebrows, no?”

The three men reportedly deliberated among each other for hours before reaching the verdict that yes, their eyebrows should be sold, and yes, their is nothing they can do about it but stick their faces in pillows and cry themselves to sleep. At one point, Mr. Carbonell broke down, choking back tears. “We’re not as menacing as our eyebrows might imply,” he sniffled.

A Romero Wigs spokesperson remarked, “Zack and Nestor and Marius have nothing to worry about. I mean, their eyebrows are gonna grow back in a few weeks. Right now, those eyebrows aren’t just lush. They’re redundant, so we’re probably doing them a favor.”

The men’s eyebrows, deemed by experts to be of exceptional quality, are priced at 200 dollars per brow. The market price for a mediocre eyebrow is 100 dollars.

 

Job applicant turns out to be fat, hairy pervert

COLUMBUS—Recently believed to be a promising applicant with excellent credentials, Lewis C. Kay is actually nothing more than a fat, hairy pervert.

“We thought he was going to be a smart fella,” said one reporter. “But as soon as he walked in here, I saw all that fat. No one that fat can be competent at anything, let alone work here.”

In the thankfully short time he was here, Mr. Kay harassed us with a bunch of braggy sentences. “I sent you my resume last week,” he said. “As you can see, I have a masters in journalism from Northwestern and a PhD in comparative literature from Columbia. I’ve worked at The New York TimesThe New Yorker, and New York, so I have some job experience.”

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Mr. Kay at a job interview.

But Mr. Kay’s credentials were promptly invalidated because Mr. Kay is fat. He is a fat, hairy, useless, loser pervert who will never fit into society because he is old and fat and useless and uncool. And we made sure he knew.

“You’re a fat, old pervert and you deserve to die,” we told him. “You’re fat. You’re fat. You’re old and you have two kids. Haha. Loser.

“Why don’t you just kill yourself, poor old man? Yeah. Just go kill yourself,” we advised. “Go kill yourself and then go suck a bag of dicks.”

Rain Man annoys hipsters by flawlessly quoting Nietzsche, eats organic tapioca puddings

COLUMBUS—Autistic savant Raymond Babbitt has incensed an exclusive group of hipsters who quote passages from philosophers whom everyone has heard of but doesn’t really understand.

“God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him,” he recited repeatedly during poetry night at Kafe Kerouac, Columbus’s ultimate bastion of genuine hipsterdom. “Nietzsche, my main man!”

Jealous of Mr. Babbitt’s formidable philosophical quoting abilities, swathes of scarf-wearing, artisanal cheese-eating minions of America’s moribund liberal arts culture have attempted to overshadow the autistic savant’s brilliance by quoting passages from Hegel, Kierkegaard, and Derrida.

Mr. Babbitt, however, was not dissuaded by the green-eyed hipsters. “The body is our general medium for having a world,” he said, echoing Merleau Ponty. “Yeah. Merleau Ponty. My main man.”

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Derided by many academic philosophers as an overrated pseudointellectual charlatan, Derrida is now Raymond Babbitt’s “main man.”

Unfortunately for Mr. Babbitt, it seems that hipsters are not the only people who are unhappy about his achievements. Professor of philosophy Bruce Mayer Ginsburg lamented, “It’s sad to see such brilliance go to waste. We have someone who can count toothpicks faster than Bertrand Russell, who could have revolutionized logic before Saul Kripke came along, or been recognized as a crucial figure in American politics like John Rawls, or even ruled the Roman Empire like Marcus Aurelius.

“Instead of doing good academic philosophy, or counting cards, or whatever rain men like to do, he sits around in his artisanal jacket sipping seven-dollar vegan espresso drinks with ridiculous names like ‘Of Mice and Zen’. He complains about the nutritional value of Qantas Airlines’s organic tapioca pudding. He says he has to get an undercut. He’ll throw a tantrum in thirty seconds if he has to use Windows instead of Mac.”

When Beagle reporters asked Mr. Babbitt to comment, the savant said that his accusers were “mansplaining.” He added, “To pretend, I actually do the thing: I have therefore only pretended to pretend. Main mansplaining. Uh-oh! UH-OH! Ow! Ow! OW!”

He explained, “Derrida. My main man.”

Handsome man cannot believe he has no matches on Tinder

WHITE PINE BAY, OR—Local eye candy Norman Bates cannot believe that he has had no luck on the popular dating app Tinder, despite the fact that he has been right swiping everyone for two months straight.

Seeking romance and adventure, the handsome Bates, 22, began to use Tinder two months ago to look for potential mates. He would be sorely disappointed.

“I even adjusted my settings and maximized the distance and everything, and then I changed it so I’m open to dating people who are up to 99 years old,” he told reporters.

Bates also stated that he is open to meeting both men and women, and he just does not understand why people are not into him. “My mother took all my Tinder photos, so I’m sure they make me look attractive. So why am I still single?” he bemoaned.

Though crestfallen, the White Pine Bay resident clung to a glimmer of hope that he may find a match in a local speed dating event to be held in the White Pine Bay Community College. He stated that, in the meantime, he will “up his game” in Tinder by adding photos that show the deepness and complexity of his intriguing, fun, and multifaceted personality.

Uninvited guests trade heroin for hamburgers in What Country, CA, carry submachine guns

WHAT COUNTRY, CA—Park Rangers were alerted to two men who traded heroin for hamburgers at a picnic in What Country, California on Saturday afternoon. The Rangers notified What Country Police, who promptly detained a hamburger vendor for questioning.

Witnesses reported that the drug dealers at one point brandished submachine guns to threaten hamburger eaters. When witnesses screamed, the two men panicked and drove off in a 1992 Acura NSX.

“They seemed to have a peculiar obsession with hamburgers,” a witness told reporters. “One man ranted and raved about Big Kahuna burgers and said something about a Quarter Pounder with Cheese, and then they pulled out guns and scared the bejeezus out of us.”

What Country Police warn that the suspects are still at large and are armed and dangerous. They were last spotted at the White Castle on 21st and Broadway.

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Surveillance footage from the White Castle at 21st and Broadway shows a man who resembles one of the suspects