
BY MATT HUSSER
JACKSONVILLE, Fla. — Local metalhead Trent Clayton remains hopeful that the Slayer reunion festival tour schedule didn’t conflict with his pending Capitol Riot court date, confirmed multiple sources.
“Just my luck, Slayer reunites after five years and it’s the same time big government decides they want to put me on trial for, uh, my patriotic tour I allegedly took at the Capitol on January 6th,” said Clayton, while his lawyer nudged him and whispered something in his ear. “I went to five dates on their Final World Tour and was really careful to make sure any crimes I committed were just misdemeanors. I wouldn’t have done anything allegedly ‘treasonous’ if I knew they were gonna get back together! I mean they couldn’t have waited til next year after Trump pardons everyone?”
Clayton’s lawyer Archie Gladstone was busy fielding calls from potential clients all over the country that were in the same predicament.
“Ever since they announced the tour dates my phone hasn’t stopped ringing with clients asking if I can get their court date moved so they can go to Riot Fest. As their lawyer, I advise my clients that missing a court date to go to a concert would be a very bad idea—but as a motherfucking Slayer fan, no federal prison bars could hold me back,” said Gladstone, rolling up his sleeve to reveal a Slayer logo carved into his forearm. “Like it says on my billboard, ‘Just because you did it, doesn’t mean they can prove it.’ Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to order some new business cards so I can pass them out in the pit in case this turns into Capitol Riot Fest.”
Slayer guitarist Kerry King encouraged fans to make it to the dates, or else they might miss the band’s Final Final World Tour.
“Man I don’t give a shit if you don’t think you can go—buy tickets anyways, break your parole, whatever you gotta do, I wanna see the crowd full of Slayer fans because these are definitely the last Slayer tour dates ever,” said King, crossing out ‘Final’ on a world tour poster from 2019. “At least these will be the last North American dates, some of those oil-rich countries pay stupid money for live shows. We would love to Qatar sometime, just thinking of all the rare snakes I could buy with that sort of money gives me goosebumps.”
At press time, former president Donald Trump announced that he would be capitalizing on the situation by selling bootleg $400 gold merch with ‘DONALD TRUMP’ in the Slayer logo font.

BY MATT HUSSER
CHICAGO — Punk dad Paul Bourne was briefly overcome by a wave of nostalgia for his reckless life before kids after seeing a carefree man passed out in a trough urinal, sources close to the man confirmed.
“I needed five minutes away from my kids so I went to the bathroom even though I didn’t need to pee, and when I walked in there he was—a guy basically living my dream life just passed out in a trough urinal, not a care in the world,” said Bourne, staring wistfully at the urine soaked man sleeping peacefully in the metal tub. “Shit, I haven’t slept that soundly in my own bed in years. I love my kids, but I couldn’t help but be nostalgic for a time in my life when I had no responsibilities, nothing holding me down—back when I could get so wasted I’d wake up two days later in a treehouse wearing nothing but a stolen firefighters jacket. Now I can’t even get a buzz when I help my kid make a model fire truck because airplane glue is non-toxic bullshit nowadays.”
Bourne’s wife, Meg, also admitted a nostalgia for their shitfaced youth, but expressed that those days were likely over.
“You think I don’t miss the time when I got so obliterated that I stole a police horse, rode it across the Mexican border, and founded a drug cartel? Of course I miss la Raza and the Cristobal Cartel, but we have kids now, and that’s all in the past,” said the mother of two, wiping a mystery substance from their oldest kid’s face. “If Paul and I could find the time for a date night I’d love to get so maggoted together we’d wake up in a hotel room not knowing who’s vomit was on the ceiling. But unfortunately nowadays if anyone is gonna be waking up in their own piss and puke, it’s our kids.”
Mutual friend Dre Morgan sympathized with the couple’s plight but offered reassurance that rowdier, drunker times were just on the horizon.
“It might seem like you lost part of yourself when you had kids, but eventually they’ll get older and you’ll be able to reclaim some freedom — hell my Uncle and his old lady just went on this three-month Carnival Cruise last month. They got so wasted off cheap wine they smuggled in that they trashed their room, stole a lifeboat, and woke up 200 miles away in Cuba,” said Morgan, googling how to wire money to Havana. “They settled down long enough to put three kids through college, and look at them now! They’re living proof that you can have a family and still get so drunk you commit treason from time to time.”
At press time, The Bournes were planning on leaving the kids with family so they could take a romantic, drug-fueled weekend away in Reno getting plastered, robbing an underground casino and escaping to the desert in a stolen RV.

BY MALIA SIMON
NEW BRUNSWICK, N.J. — Local man Max Broderson reportedly ended a romantic viewing of “Fast & Furious 6” by asking his date if she also climaxed, sources waiting patiently for an Uber confirmed.
“I am an attentive lover first and foremost. The Fast franchise is about family and looking out for each other, and so I want to make sure my date is having a good time and also getting her needs fulfilled,” said Broderson from the studio apartment he shares with two other roommates. “For example, I’d be happy to play ‘Fast & Furious 7’ I just worry because this relationship is so new I’m not sure if I want her to see me cry when Paul Walker and Vin Diesel drive away from each other at the end of the film. Rest in peace Paul, I hope to see you when I get there. But if she needs the next four movies to get over the top I’m willing to do it, especially because I know some women can take a while. I can go all night, or at least for all 17.5 hours of the franchise.”
Broderson’s date, Kelsey Turner, confirms the interaction was one of the most surprising sexual encounters she has ever had.
“I thought Max was exaggerating when he told me he will ‘literally cum his pants during the airplane sequence,’ but I guess he was dead serious,” Turner said. “When he asked if I came, I had no idea what to say. I mean, I’ve faked orgasms before, and I’ve also faked liking ‘Fast & Furious’ movies, but never at the same time. I just told him I got close but am on Prozac.”
“Fast & Furious” franchise producer Randall Henrickson addressed the recently discovered phenomenon of women failing to experience orgasms during the movies.
“It’s disappointing to hear that these films aren’t making every woman that watches cum so hard they forget their own phone number, that has always been our intention,” Henrickson said.
“Are we sure there’s not a third variable at play here? For instance, let’s imagine a woman—for the sake of the example, let’s call her ‘my wife.’ And let’s say you play ‘my wife’ all 10 ‘Fast & Furious’ movies and she still reports no climactic sexual pleasure. Is it possible that the woman is simply too distracted or too in her own head to fully let the action sequences take control of her body and rev through her loins like you can? Has that been taken into consideration when we calculate the figures?”
At press time, Broderson was seen offering his date more foreplay and putting on “The Godfather 3.”

For most self-described introverts, a night on the town is something that’s generally avoided. But local introvert Alex Lorenz has been breaking out of his anti-social bubble over the last two months by walking five minutes to the local dive bar to look at his phone!
Amazing!
Other introverts looking to get mildly buzzed would normally enjoy a glass of wine at home but not Alex! He’s becoming quite the social butterfly at the bar doing everything from reading Stephen King books on his phone to learning Japanese in Duolingo on his phone. He’s got a 100 day streak and the woman trying to make eye contact with him across the room isn’t about to break it!
Alex has become a ray of sunshine to the bar’s staff. The first time he came in, bartender Mckayala Patterson thought he was just “another guy looking to hit on her in the most uncharismatic way imaginable”. But after sitting in silence for two hours posting memes on Discord, he quickly became her favorite customer!
It didn’t take long for Alex to ingrain himself amongst the bar’s regulars either. He’s become a fixture at Trivia Night, being the only person in the room not playing trivia and looking at TikTok. Every offer he received to join a group playing pool has been declined to spend time making a grocery shopping list for the week. And on karaoke nights he’s the first one to not sing anything in favor of adding movies to his Letterboxd watchlist.
He’s making a positive impact for the other customers too! After tersely shutting down a man wearing a cowboy hat offering discount cards to his CBD dispensary, the man dejectedly left the bar immediately improving the atmosphere for everyone. What a guy!
You have to hand it to Alex, not many other introverts are willing to step outside themselves to go to a bar on a Saturday night, drink one beer, and stand in the corner schedule sending work emails for Monday. When asked if he intends to share his newfound confidence anywhere else, Alex revealed plans next weekend to sit on a park bench and text “hey” to all his unanswered Tinder messages from a month ago. An inspiration to introverts everywhere!

BY EMMA JONAS
To be an artist is to suffer. While my suffering may resemble what in others could be deemed “a drinking problem” and “the reason we aren’t allowed back at the Applebee’s on Lancaster,” it is in fact the burden of greatness which I must bear and which will always escape your limited and meek understanding.
I am but a humble writer, a scribe of the soul, whose artistic vitality derives most fervently from that enticing she-demon, the imbibable spirit. I am not, per your sophisticated phrasing, “just a lazy fucking asshole who blew all the rent money on Stella Artois and Johnnie Walker.”
My literary works are my belabored gift to my fellow man, my humble submission to the great library of profundity: Hemingway, Bukowski, Camus, and me. I didn’t ask to be a conduit for the same cosmic energy that drove these men to maudlin genius, but after twelve to sixteen IPAs it becomes unquestionably clear: I was meant to take up the mantle in this long line of artificers, and also Plus I’m a better driver when I’m smashed because I pay even closer attention.
Each day I endeavor to fulfill my duty-bound sacrifice when I alight to enshrine the universal truths of man: that suffering is inevitable; that life is a constant negotiation between the will to live and the desire to lay down and cease; that in a pinch a good long pull off the Listerine bottle will keep the creative juices flowing.
You say I ruined your mom’s Christmas party; I say no one perceives the reality of our Sisyphean, capitalistic desperation as clearly as I do (from underneath her antique buffet in a puddle of piss and blood).
A hangover is just an interstitial chapter wherein I explore the limits of inner and outer pain. Man’s capacity for turmoil is a bottomless well from which we leech endless, sloshing buckets of liquid suffering, and sometimes there are little chunks of food I don’t even remember eating in it.
My expansive oeuvre represents the coalescence of a lifetime of meditation on the theme of existence; of years of sacrifice I have made by drinking from the moment I awaken to the moment I pass out in whatever bush or public fountain I happen to be near; of one man’s stumbling journey into the urine-soaked, Odyssean inferno of hell in pursuit of art; and the fact that I have self-published all twenty-nine of my novels using Shutterfly is only a further testament to the universal singularity of the sacrifices I have lovingly made for my fellow man. Although I hope to god a publisher will call me back because my doctor says I need a liver transplant if I’m going to continue my aesthetic pursuits or, as she calls it, “guzzling liquor like a frat pledge on rumspringa.”

BY LUKE DAMMANN
OMAHA — The excitement of winning a recent ranked match in Tekken 8 reportedly wore off quickly for Tucker Johnson after realizing he actually had no idea what he just did.
“I’ve spent hours labbing different moves and combos but I’ve never been able to do something quite like that,” Johnson stated while sweat poured down his face. “I was getting destroyed, and I panicked and started mashing buttons. All of a sudden, my character jumps 50 feet in the air, changes outfits, yells ‘It’s time to get Tekken’d’ and slams down a giant fiery hammer, ending the match instantly.”
Johnson, a self-proclaimed fighting game expert, assured reporters he has been playing games like Tekken, Street Fighter, and Mortal Kombat for years, occasionally branching out with food-oriented video games like Diner Dash from time to time.
“Yes, I’ll admit that Diner Dash got me through some of my roughest times, but on a normal day, there’s no doubt that you’ll see me playing a fighting game. I enjoyed playing Street Fighter 6 last year but felt it was too easy. It’s a game for babies which is why they did a collab with Fortnite. I like my fighting games to be serious. That’s why I play as a guy with a jaguar head in Tekken.”
Cocky after his most recent win, Johnson’s next battle ended in disaster when he got matched up with the giant bear named Kuma who wears a red bandana and wields a fish as a weapon.
“I thought I could pull it off again. I went into another ranked match only to get totally decimated by that damn bear. I tried to do the super move but my character just kept taunting. He wiped the floor with me! He treated me like a piece of salmon!”
At press time Johnson had just won another game using the tried and true 16 low kicks in a row method with Yoshimitsu.

If you’re reading this, it isn’t too late. Please heed my warning and do not, under any circumstances, log back into your childhood Webkinz account. The internet avatar of the physical plushies you begged your parents for in 2006 are still alive, and boy are they pissed.
After rediscovering Cody the penguin and Reginald the Tiger in my parent’s basement, I decided to log back into my ancient Webkinz account in the hopes of unearthing buried serotonin in the depths of my nostalgia hungry monkey brain. I was unprepared for the horror waiting for me.
Using the same email and password I’ve used for everything since my first AOL Instant Messenger account from 2005, I entered the virtual Kinzville. And there, waiting for me right where I left them, were my two fur babies, sitting alone in the middle of a house that was interior designed by a nine year old.
That’s when Cody the Penguin kicked the crap out of me. For hours on end he released his pent up rage in the form of haymakers to my face, neck, and solar plexus. He pecked at my eyes and tore at my limbs. It was like a scene from a Tarintino film, I can’t believe the developers programmed in this gruesome and fear inducing animation.
I think I named him after Shia LaBeouf’s character in Surf’s up, Cody Maverick. So it felt like the radical dude penguin from the movie was beating me up and now I don’t think I can ever watch that Oscar nominated masterpiece again.
Reginald, on the other hand, had no reaction. He continued to sit lifeless on the floor with the blank 1,000 yard stare of a neglected pet who’s endured 18 years of isolation. Imagine the torture of existing in a virtual purgatory, being able to feel hunger and get sick yet having the inability to die. It would crack the will of our strongest soldiers.
At no point did Dr. Quack warn nine-year-old me about the psychological torment I would instill on the sentient stuffed animals when he gave me their birth certificate. I was completely unaware of the PTSD they would develop in the wake of my abandonment. What I would give to remain blissfully unaware of my negligence.
Please do not make the same mistake I did. Go to Toon Town or Club Penguin or any other early 2000s Flash powered websites that began your childhood internet interest that has now turned into an addiction… Maybe my Neopets still love me?

Good news! Sony are set to announce that the PS6 will launch with PS5 backwards compatibility, letting gamers play their favorite remakes of PS4 ports of PS3 sequels of classic PS2 games, and Knack 3. The decision will give older gamers (those 25yo and above) the chance to see games as they remember them in their heads rather than the blocky mess they actually played back when they were happy and optimistic about the world.
“People decided around 2011 that we had invented enough styles of games,” Sony Interactive Entertainment CEO Jim Ryan announced at a press conference hosted at the last Blockbuster. “It took a while for us to hear what the people wanted, and there were a few years where we held every indie studio at gunpoint until they made us Limbo 2, but now we understand: there is too much happening in the real world for people to be able to take in new information about entertainment.“
“It’s the perfect storm really,” Ryan continued, treading over countless copies of The Big Lebowski to get closer to the gathered press. “Earlier generations of game studios were amazing in innovating so many different ways to interact with games, which means these days we can focus all our innovation onto how we sell them to people.”
“Our biggest success in the last 15 years was when we announced we were not going to be like the original Xbox One, so that really taught us that people just want more and more powerful versions of the PS3. And that’s fine by us – do you know how many Teraflops the PS4 had? One! We can just wack another big floppy boy into the box and print money!”
After the press conference, a more deflated Ryan confessed the truth to friends off the record.