Satanists Fight to Keep “Happy” in “Happy Halloween”

Local Satanists Gary Slaughter and Bertha Blackwood are fighting to end the “war on Halloween.” The couple was spotted holding signs written in blood that said “Satanist holidays matter” and “Wish me a Happy Halloween…or else.”

The couple claims they speak for all Satanists when they say the war on Halloween must end. This year, they hope to end the blatant disrespect of their religious holiday. They say that they can feel the public losing interest in Halloween each year.

“I’m tired of walking into a store on Halloween and the cashier simply saying ‘hello’,” Blackwood said. “It is Halloween, the day I sacrifice my cat to the devil with my bare hands and then give candy to your children. It is insulting that people don’t recognize how important this holiday is to us.”

“Last year, I went to Target and brought 10 whole bags of Halloween candy, a voodoo doll, and pins  to the register. It was obvious I was planning to celebrate the holiday, but the cashier had the NERVE to simply say ‘have a nice day’ to me as I left,” said Slaughter, while snorting a line of cocaine.

“I then screamed Happy Halloween to her and stared viciously into her eye sockets for 30 seconds waiting for a reply. I was shocked and offended when she started crying. She quietly whispered that she doesn’t celebrate Halloween and  walked away, leaving a line of customers waiting. I mean, is she serious? Just because she doesn’t celebrate Halloween, doesn’t mean she can just ignore the holiday and not say Happy Halloween to me.”

Blackwood and Slaughter are worried that the country is slipping further and further away from Satan.

“When someone doesn’t say ‘Happy Halloween’ to me, it just reminds me that there are people out there who don’t believe in the devil, and that really upsets me,” Blackwood said sniffling. “In fact it upsets me so much, I want to break out my ouijia board in the middle of the store and summon dead souls from hell so I can show people what they’re missing.”

According to the couple, Halloween has already become a gross characterization of the evil they worship. The couple says they’d like for young girls to embrace the occult.

“I don’t want my daughters to feel drawn in by the Cinderella and Fairy princess costumes that tarnish the very foundation of Halloween. I want my daughters to dress as demon nuns and Bloody Mary,” Blackwood said. “I can’t stand these Halloween stores that are teaching our daughters to be ‘sexy’ when really all they need is to be evil.”

The blood on the couple’s signs began to drip so they decided it was time to call it a day. They said they will be out on the streets of Los Angeles every day between now and Halloween, making sure everyone is aware of the sacredness of their holiday. They claimed they can’t think of a better use of their time than making sure everyone, regardless of religious views or preferences, wishes them a “Happy Halloween” this year.

“Either the war on Halloween will end, or I will burn this country to the ground,” said Blackwood before snapping her fingers and disintegrating into thin air.

Female Lovebug Tired of Mate Not Pulling His Own Weight

Lucy Lovebug clung on for dear life to the windshield of the minivan. Larry Lovebug flailed in the wind, doing “the wave” with his arms. Lucy sighed and bore down harder into the windshield. She knew if she let go her and Larry would go spiraling to their deaths. She had been stuck to this guy for too long to give up now.

They were catching a ride to their therapist’s office so they could discuss their relationship problems. Upon arrival, the therapist locust gestured them to a tiny leaf shaped like a couch and asked them to please sit. Lucy yanked Larry forward to the leaf.

“So, I understand you’re here because you’re two lovebugs who haven’t figured out how to love,” the therapist said, sitting back on his hind legs.

“It’s only because Larry doesn’t pull his own weight in the relationship,” Lucy explained. “I am always the one holding on when we take rides on cars, or pulling us out of the way before we get stepped on. Larry expects me to handle everything and he just hangs there.”

“I see. Larry, would you like to respond to that?” The locust asked. Larry remained hunched over on the leaf, silent.

“You see! He never talks to me anymore. Ever since he got me pregnant he’s just totally checked out of the relationship,” Lucy complained. She reached around and nudged Larry on his shoulder.

“I hear you, Lucy. Before we continue, I’d like to confirm that you’ve paid the fee of 300,000 seeds to my receptionist?” the locust asked.

“Yes, yes I’ve paid it. Anyways, I can’t get him to say anything anymore. It was the first time we mated too, you know that? The first time we mated the bastard got me pregnant and now he’s quiet all the time,” said Lucy. The locust frowned at the couple and pretended to scribble something in his notepad.

“All those other lovebugs just seem so in love and we’re miserable,” Lucy says. “After flying us around all day, all I want is a foot rub and Larry won’t even do that! I’m about to have 200 of his babies, and if he thinks I’m gonna name a single one ‘Larry’, he’s got another thing coming for him,” Lucy told the therapist.

“Ma’am, I’m afraid your husband is dead,” the locust said pointedly.

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been sayin’, he’s a dead beat!” Lucy said back.

“No, I mean he’s clinically dead. I’m sorry our public school health system failed you so badly. You know, after lovebugs mate, the male dies instantly.”

“WHAT?? No one ever told me this! Larry? Are you dead Larry? Larry!!” Lucy shook all around, trying to get a response from Larry. She flew them both in the air and thrashed violently, trying to get Larry to wake up.

Just then, Larry detached and floated limply to the ground, a corpse. Lucy had startled herself into giving birth to the 200 lovebug eggs. She looked at the babies fondly and then immediately died herself.

The therapist stared indifferently at the eggs. He knew in just a days time, these babies will have grown up, formed their own couples, and will be back in his office for their own therapy. Lovebugs are his best clients. They’re so clingy and insecure, couples flock to his office in droves wondering why the men have “checked out” of the relationship.

“Trisha,we had another lovebug session! Get these out of my office please, I’m going to lunch,” the grasshopper called to his receptionist. He stepped over the piles of eggs, and left to count his earnings. Lovebug season is by far the most lucrative time for insect therapists.

Who Said it: Louis C.K. or the Terminator?

The following 14 quotes are things actually said by either Louis C.K. or The Terminator. Your job is to identify who said what. Answer key is at the bottom of the quiz.

1) “I will now step back and take a long time to listen.”

2) ‘I’ll be back”

3) “I don’t know how much longer I can hold this”

4) “I’ve learned from experience that if you work harder at it, and apply more energy and time to it, and more consistency, you get a better result.”

5) “I need your clothes, your boots, and your motorcycle”

6) “Life’s too short to be an asshole, as an employer or as an employee.”

7) “Why do you cry?”

8) “Hasta La Vista, baby”

9) “I’ve been having a lot of trouble sleeping as we all should. I dunno. You don’t live that long. It doesn’t matter.”

10) “Come with me if you want to live”

11) “What’s wrong with your eyes?”

12) “I like pressure. Pressure doesn’t make me crack. It’s enabling. I eat pressure.”

13) “We have to get out of the city immediately and avoid the authorities.”

14) “Desire is irrelevant. I am a machine.”

Bonus, who was this quote said about, Louis C.K. or The Terminator?

“It can’t be bargained with. It can’t be reasoned with. It doesn’t feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And it absolutely will not stop, ever, until you are dead.”

Answer Key

Louis C.K.: 1,4,6,9,12

The Terminator: 2,3,5,7,8,10,11,13,14

Bonus: The Terminator

Florida Woman Catches Hypothermia Upon Swimming in 86 Degree Pool

On a steamy Florida afternoon in August, Beatrice Bellweather arrived home from her tennis lesson dripping in sweat. She walked out to the pool to check the temperature. Upon pulling the thermometer out of the pool, she was disappointed to see the water was a mere 86 degrees.

Beatrice and her family have a strict rule never to swim in water colder than 90 degrees. They’ve heard stories of Floridians dying upon contact with cold water. The Tampa sun beats down on Beatrice relentlessly. She looks longingly at the smooth, inviting ripples of the pool’s surface. She hears thunder in the distance. A storm is coming; she knows it’s now or never to take the plunge.

Beatrice, cringing, dips her big toe in the pool to test the water. Nothing happens. She’s pleased that she still has all ten toes. “I’m going in the pool!!!”, Beatrice shouts to her husband, who grunts in response from his throne in front of the TV.

Too hot to even change out of her tennis clothes, Beatrice decides to cannonball into the pool. She thinks shocking her body with the frigid 86 degree water is the best way to quickly adjust. She backs up against the screen of the pool, runs three steps and then cannonballs in.

Her body immediately goes into shock as her boiling Floridian blood comes into contact with the water. Hypothermia starts to set in and Beatrice starts to lose the ability to breathe. Her movements become erratic as she frantically swims in a circle over and over again. She realizes there’s no way she can make it out of the arctic water on her own and calls for her husband.

Beatrice’s husband comes racing out to the pool. He grabs the giant unicorn floaty from the side of the pool and glides over to Beatrice, careful not to touch the water. The unicorn floaty seems to be losing air quickly. Between its trip from the edge of the pool to where Beatrice splashes in pain, the floaty seemed to lose half it’s mass. The husband gasps as he realizes there are tiny holes in the bottom of the floaty.

“Hurry and get on Beatrice, come on!” Her husband shouts at her. Beatrice grabs the horn of the unicorn and tries to pull herself up, but the horn deflates in her hand. She flops around like a seal, desperately trying to land her shivering body on the float.

Water is filling the unicorn float at a swift pace. The couple locked eyes with each other. Realization that the unicorn float wasn’t big enough for two dawned on them.

“I’m so cold, Beatrice,” Her husband, who wasn’t nearly as submerged as Beatrice, told her. Beatrice looked at her full grown husband, clinging for dear life onto a unicorn float, and was suddenly overcome with affection.

She loosened her grip on the raft, succumbing fully to the freezing lagoon beneath.

“You must do me this honor…promise me you will survive…that you will never give up…no matter what happens…no matter how hopeless…promise me now, and never let go of that promise.” Beatrice says to her husband while holding his hand.

“I promise,” Beatrice’s husband replied.

“Never let go,” Beatrice whispered.

“I promise, I will never let go, Beatrice. I’ll never let go,” said Beatrice’s husband as he instantly let go of her hand. Beatrice sunk to the bottom of the pool.

With the weight of Beatrice off the raft, her husband was able to prop himself up enough to be mostly out of the water. Unfortunately, he has lost all his strength. Even the six foot doggie paddle to get to the edge of the pool would be too much for him. He started screaming for help from his neighbors.

When authorities arrived at the Bellweather home 20 minutes later, they found Beatrice lying motionless at the bottom of the pool. Mr. Bellweather was found sobbing silently on his deflating unicorn float. When he saw the officers arrive he repeated over and over again, “there was no room for two.”

7 Must-Have Items for Millennial Introverts

There are so many items on the market geared towards Millennials. From the latest apps, to bizarre foods, to tech trends, millennial products are flooding the market place. But what about the untapped market of the Millennial Introvert? Introverts are too often overlooked because society literally can’t hear them. But just because an introvert’s mouth is closed doesn’t mean their wallet isn’t wide open. Read on to discover 7 products perfect for tapping into the Millennial Introvert market.

1) Shy Tea Latte

If you want to get more Millennials into your coffee shop, try adding a Shy Tea Latte to the menu. Ordering a Shy Tea Latte is the exact same thing as ordering a Chai Tea latte but with one important twist, a Shy Tea Latte eliminates small talk. Ordering this latte let’s the barista know that you’re an introvert. This drink sends the message that you’d rather not engage in chit-chat while they’re making your drink. Just the coffee will be fine, thanks.

2) Amazon Talk-o

Introverts hate starting conversations. Even mustering up the courage to talk to a robotic Amazon Echo is enough to make an introvert quiver in fear. The solution? An Amazon Talk-O! An extremely extroverted Echo that will do all the talking! The Amazon Talk-O is voiced by Chatty Cathy rather than the traditional Alexa. You simply ask, “Chatty Cathy, what’s new with you today?”, and Chatty Cathy will talk your ear off without ever asking you a single personal question.

3) Shhhh-Uber

Let’s face it, introverts do NOT want to ride in a traditional Uber. Between the loud music and chatty drivers, Ubers turn into an introvert‘s worst nightmare. A “Shhhh-Uber” (Trademark Pending) is the perfect ride sharing app for introverts. In a “Shhhh-Uber”, the drivers won’t even say hello to you. There is absolutely no contact between you and the Shhhh-Uber driver. The rear view mirror is covered in black tape so that there’s no chance of them even glancing at you. There are two audio options in the Shhhh-Uber: classical music, or a recording of Maggie Smith whispering soothing compliments in your ear.

4) Lit Bit

Everyone knows that introverts spend all their time reading books under picturesque staircases. This means they have no need for the gaudy, aggressive, over-hyped “Fit Bit” that’s so popular among fitness fanatics. Instead, they need a watch that keeps track of their literary conquests! The Lit Bit would keep track of the number of words, pages, and chapters the introvert read that day. 

5) Find-A-Dog App

If an introvert finds himself stuck at a social gathering, there is no time to waste. He must find a dog as quickly and efficiently as possible to avoid human interaction. When you spend all night petting a dog, people assume you’re an animal lover rather than a people hater. The Find-A-Dog app would allow every introvert to instantly locate the nearest dog at any event.

6) “I’m Just Looking, Thanks” T-shirt:

There is no entering a retail establishment now a days without having a sales person ask if you need help finding something. Introducing the Shopping Shirt for Introverts! When you’re wearing your, “I’m Just Looking, Thanks” tee, you can fend off unwanted contact with retail professionals. The tee shirt comes in neon yellow with bold black lettering. It can be worn every time an introvert enters a retail establishment to fend off incoming sales reps. 

7) Mumble Dating App

A spin-off of the popular Bumble dating app, Mumble is an app exclusively for introverts. Before you can join you must confirm that you speak less than 100 words per day. You must agree to the Terms and Conditions which include: no small talk, no sound effects, and no Adam Sandler movie references. Once you’re in the app, you have thousands of Mumblers in your area to choose from. Dates will be held at serene locations like libraries or koi ponds.  

Corgi on the Run: What I Learned During my 20 Minutes of Freedom

*****This afternoon while my family was watching the U.S Open, our corgi somehow broke out of the screen porch and escaped. Fortunately, he was unharmed and only missing for about 20 minutes. This is a memoir written from his point of view on what he did during his escape.*****

I roll over on my back, letting the Florida sun warm my belly. It’s a hot June afternoon and my humans are all inside watching other humans whack balls with sticks on tv. I’m terribly bored. I haven’t gotten a single head scratch in 37 minutes. I’m starting to grow faint from the lack of attention. How dare they leave me all alone on this porch?

I look over at the glistening lake, only 100 feet away. My mouth waters thinking about lapping up that murky lake water. The only thing that separates me from the lake is a thin screen. Maybe I should bust out and go swimming all alone. That’ll teach my humans to pay attention to Tiger Woods instead of me.

I tap on the screen door with my nose and am delighted to find that the red headed human didn’t close it all the way! This is my chance! I’ll be like Moana! No one knows how far I’ll go! I push the door open and waddle my chubby body down the steps. I really should cut back on the biscuits if I’m going to win that Corgi race next week. Oh well. Now’s the not the time to think about my body image issues, I’m free!

I make it down to the yard and realize I can do whatever I want now. I’m not constrained by the pull of a leash. I have no master.

The first thing I do with my freedom is run off the edge of the dock and belly flop into the water. The water feels amazing against my fur. I start to doggy paddle out into the lake but am immediately terrified by the number of turtles that pass me. Why are they all better at the doggy paddle than I am? I am a dog for goodness sake! This hurts my self esteem so I make my way out of the lake and shake out my fur. I’ve now been free for 4 whole minutes.

A heavenly scent wafts over from a few houses down. It smells like barbecue and forgotten dreams. I decide I must head here next and briskly trot towards the cook out. When I arrive at the source of the smell I find the most beautiful site I’ve set my canine eyes on: a grille full of meats and over 20 munching humans.

“Look it’s an orgy!” one of the human screamed. I start to wonder if I misheard them, they must have meant corgi right? I start to think of my own humans watching golf, no orgies, and they don’t seem so bad after all.

One of the tiny humans tried to pick me up and carry me inside so I snarled at him. This is my chance to be free, I certainly don’t want to join another household so soon. Especially not one that takes part in orgies.. Afraid of being captured, I flee the scene, heading further away from my house and my humans. I bet they don’t even notice I’m gone. I step on a snail just to feel powerful.

It’s been 9 minutes since I escaped and the sun is beating down on me. I think longingly about my favorite spot on the cool tile floor of my kitchen. Who knew being free would be so sweaty?

I see a pug approaching with his owner. Ha HA hA, leashed dogs, how pathetic. I prance up to him and dance a quick circle around him so he knows I’m free and he isn’t. The petrified pug then backs behind his owner as if he’s afraid of me. When did leashed dogs get so soft? I look up at the owner and realize she is also afraid of me. I look longingly at the way the human is standing between me and her beloved pet. I start to miss the protective pull of my own leash.

Seeing that the punk pug doesn’t want to engage with me, I decide to keep on walking.

Wow, it’s been 15 minutes since I escaped and I’m getting kind of hungry. I can’t go home yet though before they even have a chance to miss me. I want there to be panic. I want my picture up all around town on “lost dog” signs. I want the fame that comes from a truly beloved dog going missing.

I want them to make a tv series about me when I finally return. “The Unbreakable Corgi Schmidt”, a story about one corgi who was lost but persevered on his own until he was found. That way my humans will be watching ME on tv instead of men in khakis whacking balls.

I decide I’ll circle back to my neighbor’s house. I just want to be in ear shot to see IF my humans are calling for me yet. Not that I’ll go home if they are… even though it is dinner time and I’m very hungry.

I walk through our neighbor’s yard and freeze when I notice my neighbors are eating on their porch. Oh shoot, they’re going to spot me and tell my humans! I try to hide behind a flowerbed but my biscuit-filled belly is too large.

“Is that Cosmo?” my neighbor calls out to me, and anyone listening.

“Oh that is Cosmo! What is he doing over here?” another neighbor exclaims.

They start to call me over but instead I try to dig my way into the ground so I won’t be noticed. I hear someone nearby and look up to see my own humans approaching quickly. One of them is crying and the other is calling my name repeatedly. Jeez, I know I’m man’s best friend but these humans are soooo clingy.

I stop digging and try to act casual, like I never left home to begin with. My humans start petting me and scruffing up my fur. I roll over, feeling the warm June sun on my belly and the hands of humans who adore me.

Freedom could never be as sweet as this.

A List of Reveal Parties I’m Going to Have When I Get Pregnant

A pregnancy is a beautiful thing that should be documented and celebrated, over and over and over again. I’ve decided a simple “baby shower” is too archaic for me. Even just a “gender reveal party” seems inadequate to document my womb doing something that no other womb has done before; house a human being.

From the moment I get pregnant until I pop the little angel out nine months later it is my job, nay my DUTY, to reveal each and every step of my pregnancy to my family and friends. That being said, I’ve made a list of the nine reveal parties I’m going to have. One for each of the nine months of my very special and unique pregnancy.

1) The Pregnancy Reveal Party:

This will be a cryptic party that I invite my family and friends over for. I tell them to bring gifts but give no reason why. I tell them we are going to be watching the premiere of the new season of Game of Thrones. They’re extremely excited and bring Game of Thrones-related gifts. One of my friends casually asks me why I’m drinking water instead of the wine she brought and I seize the moment. I dramatically clink my spoon against my brand new “I drink and I know things” cup and tell all my family and friends I have an announcement. They all get quiet hoping I’m finally going to let them watch the episode but instead I announce I’m pregnant!!

2) The Father Reveal Party:

I send out another e-vite claiming I have another huge announcement regarding my pregnancy. I put “(no gifts necessary)” on the bottom of the invitation and then promptly set up a card table with a miniature sign reading “gifts”. I wrap my husband up in a giant box from Amazon and poke holes in the side so he can breathe. I tell him that when I give him the signal he’s supposed to erupt from the box wearing his “world’s best dad” tshirt. This is when I reveal that my husband of 5 years is the father of my child.

3) The Top 10 Baby Names Reveal Party:

I’m three months into my pregnancy now. It’s still too early to tell what the gender is but do I wait to have another party? Of course not! I invite all my family and friends over once again to reveal the top 10 baby names that my husband and I are kind of considering. Five for a girl and five for a boy. Instead of simply reading the names out I hide them around our house and make my friends go through an elaborate scavenger hunt to find them.

4) The Gender Reveal Party:

Hurray! It’s four months into my pregnancy and the ultrasound has revealed my baby’s teeny tiny genitalia. For the big reveal we plan to stick a young toddler that is the same gender as our baby into a catapult and shoot him into the air. He or she will be holding either blue or pink sparklers and while s/he soars through the air our guests will scream “it’s a boy” or “it’s a girl” depending on the gender of the child that is inevitably soaring to its death.

5) The Due Date Reveal Party:

It’s five months into my pregnancy and I’ve successfully been dodging the question, “when’s your due date?”. I wanted to save the news so I could have another party to celebrate. At this party I’m going to make everyone guess the due date of my baby. I announce that the winner is exempt from having to come to the remainder of my pregnancy parties. Everyone seems extremely eager to win. Especially my husband.

6) The Baby’s Political Party Reveal Party:

Come celebrate the official announcement of my negative 3-month old baby’s political party affiliation! My husband and I have decided which political party our child will belong to once he or she is 18 and eligible to vote. Stuffed elephants or donkeys for gifts are welcome.

7) The Baby’s Future Profession Reveal Party:

At this point in the pregnancy I’ve already decided what my future child will be when they grow up. I’ve  decided to push them firmly towards a single profession that I’ve chosen based on the aura they’ve given off in my womb. This is a party where I reveal to all my family and friends what my unborn baby’s future profession will be. Grown-up gifts are required and will be saved for when my child graduates college and enters said profession.

8) The Official Name Reveal Party:

After 8 months of deliberating I’ve finally chosen a name for my baby that wasn’t present at the original top 10 party. You don’t want to miss this! Please come celebrate the OFFICIAL naming party for my baby. You now know the gender and the name so choosing appropriate gifts should be a breeze! Think monogrammed onesies and either pink or blue baby gear.

9) The Birth Reveal Party:

The big day has arrived!  If you made it through my first 8 parties then you’ve earned the privilege of watching a live stream of my baby as it tears it’s way through my vaginal canal! Popcorn and refreshments will be provided.

Local Woman Violently Forces Detailed Critique of Improv 101 Showcase From Loved Ones

On May 6, 2018, Tabatha Jones finished her Improv 101 showcase with a smile and a wave to the audience. She greeted her roommate, boyfriend, and mom outside the Improv studio and suggested they all go for a post show drink at Chili’s.

The second the group sat down at the table, Tabatha’s tone changed. “So what did you think of the show?” Tabatha asked the group. “It was good!” Tabatha’s mother exclaimed before reaching for the menu. There was a long pause before Tabatha responded, “But what do you mean good?” All three of Tabatha’s loved ones made eye contact with each other before her boyfriend spoke up. “Come on Tabatha, it was a good show but you’re still new at this! You can’t expect to be the next Tina Fey already!”

Suddenly, Tabatha pulled out a massive rope from her backpack and tied each of her loved ones to their sticky Chili’s bar stool. She slammed her fist on the table and declared, “No one is leaving here until I get THOROUGH feedback on my performance!”

The waitress came to the table to drop off the group’s margaritas and Tabatha poured each one down her throat in one gulp before turning back to her horrified friends and family.

She pulled a loaded pistol out and pointed it at the group. She started asking them a million questions a minute, not pausing to hear their responses.

“Did I not say ‘yes AND’ enough??”

“When I was pretending to be a goldfish could you SEE the emotion of a fish in my eyes?”

“Do you think I asked too many questions? OH GOD I ASKED TOO MANY QUESTIONS, DIDN’T I?”

She then pulled out her laptop and typed in “Full Episodes of Whose Line is it Anyway” on Youtube. She propped up her laptop and told the group to shut up and watch the show since they CLEARLY don’t understand what Improv even is. After two hours of Whose Line is it Anyway episodes she finally closed her laptop.

“Which Whose Line actor would you say my performance was most derivative of? Am I more of a Colin or a Wayne??? ” Tabatha demanded.

“Babe I have to go the bathroom, please untie me, this is insane” Tabatha’s boyfriend pleaded with her.

“Well why don’t you just PRETEND there’s a bathroom here if you think you’re so GREAT at improv?” Tabatha shot back.

Just then Tabatha’s improv teacher showed up to the restaurant. She held up a fake gun and pointed it at Tabatha. “Tabatha I have a gun here, drop your weapon or I will shoot.” Tabatha, eager to please her improv teacher, dropped her real gun and put her hands up, doing her best impression of someone being held at gun point.

“Yes, and now I want you to do a scene where you’re pretending like you’re saving hostages and untie your friends and family.” Tabatha’s improve teacher instructed her.

Tabatha immediately jumped up and untied her loved ones.

“Very good. Good scene work,” The instructor cooed at Tabatha as she was untying her friends and family.

The police arrived on scene and put Tabatha in handcuffs, leading her out of the Chili’s. Tabatha muttered to herself “There are no mistakes in improv” over and over as she was driven away to jail.

Itinerary of a White Frat Bro Celebrating Cinco de Mayo

Noon– Wake up hungover from a long night of celebrating Star Wars Day. Lie in bed newly enraged by how Disney is ruining Star Wars with it’s increase of minority and female characters. Punch nearest wall.

12:03-  Text only Mexican friend in contact list “Happy Mexican Independence Day!” with a sombrero emoji. Stare at phone wondering why friend didn’t text back.

12:15- Walk through frat house beating chest and exclaiming “VIVA LA MEXICO!!”

12:30- Rally a group of 11 frat bros dressed in identical outfits of pastel shorts and Sperry’s to head to nearest Mexican restaurant.

1:00- Order 7 enchiladas and 9 burritos taking time to fake a Mexican accent while talking to the waitress.

2:30- After spending an hour and a half occupying a table during the lunch rush, leave a 2 dollar tip and write “gracias mamacita” along with your phone number on the receipt.

2:35– Return to frat house to take a food coma nap wrapped in your American flag duvet.

4:00 – Wake up from nap. Look over at hole in wall that you punched this morning. Google, “How to get Mexico to pay for my wall”

5:00- Drag out “Day of the Dead” masks that some of the brothers wore for Halloween and encourage bros it’ll be totally “fuego” if you all wore them to happy hour.

5:30- Roll up to your second Mexican restaurant of the day and sit at the bar. Order a Margarita and 5 tacos with sauce on the side.

5:42- Take one bite of taco and immediately spit it out into your peach-flavored margarita. Loudly complain to waiter that tacos were too spicy, even with the sauce on the side, and ask for the cook to prepare tacos with no spices. Demand free replacement margarita.

5:55- Replacement set of tacos were still way too spicy so you storm out of restaurant alone and drunkenly drive to Taco Bell.

5:57- Scream into Taco Bell drive- thru, “What can I get for 5 pesos????”, to which the Taco Bell employee responds, “Sir we only take American dollars here.” You end up getting a chicken quesadilla and a small Baja Blast.

5:58- The Baja Blast is too spicy so you throw it out the window but it hits a police car.

6:00- Policeman pulls you over and notices you’re clearly intoxicated, are wearing a Day of the Dead mask, and are driving with your feet while you eat your Taco Bell quesadilla.

6:01- Policeman angrily asks you to remove your mask.

6:01 and thirty seconds- Policeman smiles upon realizing that you’re the son of his frat bro Steve and let’s you off with a warning after telling you to “Enjoy your Cinco De Mayo, hermano.”

6:30- You arrive back to the frat house in time for your frat’s annual Cinco de Mayo (whites only) bash.

7:00- You queue up the Spotify playlist that your bros asked you to curate for the party. The playlist is just the entire motion picture soundtrack from the movie Coco along with Justin Bieber’s “Despacito.”

8:00- People start showing up to the party and you greet them with a resounding “hola!!” and offer them a shot of Jose Cuervo tequila.

8:30- Amanda from Alpha Gamma Beta Fish takes her top off and shakes her boobs like maracas while screaming the lyrics to “Despacito” and telling everyone it’s her favorite song.

9:00- You bring out the Pinata that inexplicably resembles a young Mexican child and everyone takes turns whacking it with a stick until it breaks and Mexican jumping beans are poured over the whole party.

9:02- Everyone is mad at you for filling the piñata with Mexican jumping beans instead of actual candy.

9:05- You take 7 tequila shots to drown out their complaints.

10:30- You get into a heated debate with a liberal bro from Phi Sigma Snowflake about whether or not Donald Trump is racist. To prove your point that he’s not you bring up Trump’s Cinco De Mayo tweet from 2016 where he declares, “I love Hispanics!”

10:35- You kick everyone from Phi Sigma Snowflake out of your party and promise they’ll never come to a party as great as yours ever again.

Midnight- Tired from a long day of celebrating, you pass out on your Fraternity house’s lawn wearing only a sombrero. Someone leaves a note on your back that says, “mow around me, hombre.”

Heartbreaking: Man Who Doesn’t Get his Post-workout Protein Shake Shrivels up and Dies

32-year old Bruce Ackerman started his Wednesday evening just like any other, shredding it at Gold’s gym. Bruce bought a house exactly 5 minutes away from the largest Gold’s Gym in America. He wanted to make sure he lived close enough to the gym to rush home and make himself his post-workout protein shake. Made up of 95% protein, 5% shake.

Bruce has a thirty-minute window after pumping iron to consume his protein shake otherwise his muscles shrivel up like raisins and he loses all his gainz.

On this particular Wednesday fate wasn’t on his side. Right as he was leaving the gym his old high school buddy John Jacobs entered and Bruce’s fate was sealed upon one gregarious, back-slapping handshake.  Sweat droplets leaped off Bruce’s back as John slapped it three times in a row.

“How are you my man?” Bruce asked John, not expecting a real answer.

Unfortunately for Bruce, John’s wife just left him for her Pilates instructor and Bruce had to listen to an entire speech about John’s miserable life. Despite Bruce giving all the social cues body builders have to get away from a conversation, John wouldn’t stop talking about the Pilates instructor’s’ muscular calves and ripped anterior delts.

Finally, John’s personal trainer walked up to the pair and broke them out of the conversation. Bruce gave a quick grunt to John and busted out of the gym doors, running for his life.

“I neeeeeeeed my gains” Bruce panted as he sprinted to his yellow Camaro. He was starting to feel weak. He sat down in the front seat and checked his Fit Bit. Only 4 minutes left until the 30-minute window closed and his muscles would be gone forever.

He started the engine and screeched out of the parking lot going 80mph. Chariots of Fire boomed out of his stereo. He knew his beloved Nutribullet was waiting for him. He started salivating as he thought about his quart of Whey protein powder sitting seductively on the counter.

He checked his Fitbit again. One minute left. He was too late.

Bruce yelped in pain as he felt his quad muscles start to eat themselves. Suddenly, Bruce’s arms could no longer hold the wheel as they turned into noodles.

“It’s happpppennninggggg!” Bruce shrieked as his whole body started to shrink while his clothes remained the same size.

Bruce’s naked body shrunk down to the size of a foot as he jumped on the gas pedal, knowing he was mere seconds from his home. There was a loud crash as Bruce’s car sped into the wrong lane and a semi truck slammed into it.

When the paramedics showed up on the scene there was no body to be found in the yellow Camaro. All that was left of Bruce was his Under Armour compression shorts and his Fitbit that flashed “You’ve reached your 10,000 steps today!”