By the Twin Moons of Qwuandor…

In a shocking new set of events, a local satire journal tortures friends with tales of a new merchandising store.

Yes, you read that right, local satire company has more than one friend. We found this to be a shocking reality as well. Like, who admits to having a satirist for a friend? A comedian? Totally, but a satirist? That’s dicey. How do you bring that up around the water cooler at the office?

Imagine you’re in the office, around the water cooler, instead of working. You’re standing there, not even drinking water, just waiting to tell someone about the funny thing your satirist friend just posted. Then, like a stealth ninja, but a really old one with a knee brace, an extra 200 pounds, and a glittery bouffant, your boss approaches. This is Your CHANCE! You finally work up the courage to discuss this difficult topic. Then, the not-so-stealthy-ninja-boss says:

“Perkins! Why are you standing here instead of working or drinking water, which is the express purpose of this limited 2 foot area we zoned out?”

“Well sir, my name’s actually Purgins.”

“What?! Fine, but why aren’t you drinking water in the water zone? And for God’s sake why are your well-curved breasts popping out of your shirt and bra? We have a dress code and this is your last warning. Get it together Perginz.”

“It’s Purgins sir. But there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh god Purhgens, this isn’t another cult is it.”

Now feeling personally attacked, you put your surprisingly resplendent bosom back in your shirt and press the charge. Clearly your satirist friend is already costing you friends at work with this boob stunt. Unwisely, you continue:

“No sir. My friend writes a blog and he thought everyone should read it. It’s funny sir. Really funny. He’s sure of it this time. He took online classes in the Art of Satiristy, Satirophistry, and Satirical Astrology from the University of the Vidalia News Recorder at Lower Temecula and Eastern Canadian Provinces. You see sir, he works for the greatest investigatively satirical news journal from the Canis Major Dwarf Galaxy and Lower Temecula, The Vidalia News Recorder.”

Then something changes in your boss’s demeanor. A chill wind blows in from Janice’s office (in accounting). The lights flicker over Eric’s desk (shipping). Your boss relaxes his shoulders and a slow smile breaks across his face. A knot forms in your stomach. The last time he smiled like this, someone received a “meets expectations” on their annual review. He bellows with a thunderously supernatural voice and the walls shake…

“Well shit Purgins! Why didn’t you start with that?! Now I can fulfill my destiny!! I, the Great Equalizer from the Twin Moons of Qwuandor, can end my slavery to The Great Green Onion of Satire in the Sky! I must slay all enemies of Global Tetrahedron, and The Onion News Network! You’ve been caught in a battle going back 26,000 years and now it is done. There can be only one beating heart of satire, Purgins! Your blood will honor my axe’s beard when it bites into your still-beating heart! Then I will do the same to your satirist friend, and my quest shall be complete. For the honor of Clan Zoltmoar and The Great Green Onion of Satire in the Sky!!!! Rrraawwwrrrrrrr!!!!”

He rips off his shirt to release a gigantic crab body covered in 20,000 eyes, and a few baby hands. His two, giant crab arms reach high above, wielding the Fabled Axe of Olive Garden, and is swiftly brought low, brutally cleaving your brain in two. Gallons of blood, and zesty marinara explode from your split skull. Then, a mystical confetti pop sprinkles an approachingly mediocre level of colorful paper particles onto your corpse (because comedy’s a bitch). The deed is done.

There you died. The Fabled Axe of Olive Garden is buried deep in your medula oblongata, with no one to hold your inexplicably, imperturbably perfect breasts.

Fucking satirists, am I right?

Suffering a Satirist’s Merchandising

But, more sinister than what happens to the friends and known associates of satirists is how satirists spread their twisted ideologies of comedy, merchandising, and free masturbation services for every adult. Today’s exposé is a shocking look at the tortured lives of the friends of satirists. The following may be difficult to read.

Janet M., 32, Milwaukee, Stay at Home Mom and Part-Time Assassin

“Oh hey… Look what I can make!” Janet’s friend is a satirist, and Janet is miserable. She endures the constant torture of her friend nosily asking if she likes his new merch ideas. Did she laugh? Did she tell other people? Did she buy the cool protest tyrants t-shirt, or yard sign, from the site?

“If I had received my county assassin license already, ugh, I swear to God I would’ve just killed him already. Like, no Blaine, I don’t have time to look at your stupid new merch site at https://the-vidalia-news-recorder.printify.me.”

She continues on by saying: “Yes Blaine, Gawd! The shirt is super cool and funny, and I respect that you’ve used a known brand for the shirts, Gildan. And I really like that they come in 12 different colors. It’s just that I’m irritated because Blaine, you’re everything I ever wanted in a sex mate. You’re out of shape, sarcastic, out of touch with your feelings, intelligent, and highly needy. It’s hard to confront the sexual power you have over me, but your new merchandise store is a bridge too far, and now you’ve hit the ovary jackpot. Come over and sex me now you deranged lunatic!”

McKreighleigh P., 29, Fort Spring, Auxiliary Cosmetic Mechanic

“My friend is a satirist. All he says are things like: ‘Did you see this one yet? Oh God… This is too funny! I can sell coffee?!? You gotta try this. Who would let ME sell coffee?!!?‘ It seems to be all he talks about. Merch this, stickers that. So get this…

“I seriously hurt myself on a broken apple slicer the other day, y’know the plastic kind with the metal slicing blades, but the plastic is cheap and it’s just a medical liability waiting to happen? So I’m sending him pictures of my sliced up thumb and all he talked about was making something called, CEO Approved Lotion. ‘The CEO thanks you for your dynamic execution of synergistic motions… in bed.’ What the hell even is that? It’s a good thing he’s the greatest lover in the history of this galaxy, and also handsome, oh… and really smart, and a champion power lifter, and a jiu jitsu master, and a great chef, and I just found out he’s an architect designing energy efficient schools for children with disabilities. Did I mention he’s the greatest lover ever?”

Daniel H., 43, Mount Pleasant, Brick Forecaster

“I’ve been this guy’s friend for a few years now and over Halloween–this year–he lectured me, IN MY OWN HOUSE, on the various careers of North American comedians and their cross-over impact in different cultural touch points. Don’t get me wrong, he’s still my friend and I love him like a friendly acquaintance, but the conversation was interesting for the first 7 minutes. Over an hour later, I was halfway through a six-pack with my neighbor and I see my satirist friend ended up teaching comedy to a sculpted shrub. I don’t think he even noticed that I walked away!

“I will admit though that the new merch site looks amazing. It has a super cool hat about Teslas, and a VNR Logo hat. Hahaha… I hope my children grow up to be as intelligent, and handsome, and sophisticated, as he is. Wow… wouldn’t that just be the best timeline?”

The Parting Thought…

Upon reflecting, journalists for local satire outlets are surprised people still trust them with computers, cars, money, and fingers. So it is said…

What laziness might let slip would terrify and utterly confuse the hounds of war.

Fun Tzu – The Art of Satire