Hello. Welcome to QNN Evening News. I’m Hirrient Tril. Breaking as we come on the air, on this very busy news night:

--Horrific 2-car crash kills 14 and injures dozens of others.

--The NAACP balks at the administration’s recommendation to change its name.

--TikTok goes to half-speed operations while the new deadline approaches for shutdown or sale.

--The recent executive order dismissing all of those working in the Unemployment Office sets a new bar for irony.

--Explosive scandal rocks the National Bridge-on-the-River Choir.

--More worms found in RFK, Jr.’s head.

--Marvel superhero movies blamed for autism spectrum disorder.

Those are the latest understandings, mis-, or not. And now, for the revisions:

A horrible car crash involving only 2 cars has killed 14 people and injured dozens of others. At first, it was suspected that the colliding cars had landed on a group of pedestrians to account for that number of casualties. On the scene is QNN correspondent, Suzy Sucklipz. Suzy?

“Thanks, Hirrient. Yes, it was assumed the two cars had struck an entire crowd of Democrats, but after the facts emerged, the incident was found to have involved at least one clown car, which could easily explain the number of those killed and injured.”

What about the other car? Any details?

“The other car initially was felt to have had no survivors, as it was eerily silent for some time, until first responders identified its occupants as three mimes, still buckled in and gesticulating wildly. Keeping them in the car were imaginary glass barriers they pointed out using the flattened palms of their hands.”

And the clowns who survived?

“Well, with so many casualties, this presented quite the logistics problem in getting them all to hospitals. Currently, we’re still waiting for a clown-ambulance, which has only been used once before, after that Big Top collapse catastrophe 14 years ago.”

I remember that. What a circus!

“You bet, Hirrient. Three rings. Although the clowns crawling out of the carnage were cited with a ‘too-soon’ clown offense when they were seen to have their pants down. As you know, the penalty for such a clown crime calls for mandatory shoe deflation.”

Sad, Suzy. Just sad. Now for politics. The NAACP has rebuked strongly a call to change its name because of many critics who have complained that they considered “colored people” to be derogatory. Its executive committee had especially harsh words for the White House recommendation, the NAAYP, or the “National Association for the Advancement of You People.” Covering our political beat is our own, Notso Fatso. Notso?

“Yes, Hirrient. Were they angry! When the press secretary was asked, as a rhetorical question that went right over her head, “What people,” she only responded, “You know what people. Everyone knows what people, am I right? When asked about the possibility of NAAWP, or the National Association of We People, the dwarves lobby objected.

Notso Fatso, at the White House. Back to you.”

There’s no pleasing some people, Nosto.

“What do you mean, some people, Hirrient? Ha ha.”

Ha Ha. In other news, TikTok is making contingency plans for its postponed demise. As a show of good faith, it has begun operating at half-capacity, offering only the Tik portion of its platform. The German subscribers are particularly upset, bringing their grievances to the EU, saying, “Vee hab vays of makink them Tok.” Some have called for breaking it up, due to it being accused of being a monopoly, into Tik and Tok. But that’s really a little tit for tat. Meanwhile, the clock’s also running on their copyright infringement suit against Tic Tac.

The Department of Irony (DOI) has issued a red-flag sarcasm warning now that all the management positions of the National Unemployment Office have been given notice of their pending dismissals. “Where will we all go now?” asked CEO Tempero Fugit. “I mean, once we’re gone.” We here at QNN answer, “Who cares?”

The Bridge-on-the-River Choir has hit a sour note now that its choir has been rocked by disharmony. While the sheet music is still pending, the choir conductor has been treated for decrescendo. Rising to the position from humble beginnings as a solo castrato, he was quoted as saying, “It’s not really all about the bass,” but only dogs that have been neutered could hear him, which may even top the irony from the Unemployment debacle.

More to come on this very busy news night. Wormipedes were found in RFK, Jr.’s head, this time several feet long and from the 6th dimension. And the American Pediatrics Association has published its findings on how Marvel superhero movies are contributing to the rise in autism spectrum disorder. The Hulk fires back, right after these messages.

Ian slipped on a banana peel, and his bottom hit the ground— HARD. None of the children gave even the slightest snicker. All of them carried on with their daily chores. Sasha came tumbling down the stairs- her newly found method of speedier moving than crawling, or walking. This, too, did not seem to faze the other kids. They continued to carry out their tasks~ but as soon as Ian went to open the front door…a grand burst of laughter proceeded out of the McGregor villa. Ian had had enough, and was ready to storm back in when he was greeted by a little birdie. It cooed, and cooed. Ian tried to shoo it away. Then it began to laugh. This was now all too much for Ian. He ran toward the little birdie and took a dive trying to grab a hold of it. The little birdie flapped its wings, and took off into the beautiful indigo cotton candy like evening sky. Ian had landed in a pile of the McGregor’s cow dung. What a day he was having! He took a deep breath, and tried to calm his nerves. This had been quite an arduous time for him. Not only had he been instructed to watch over the McGregor hyper bunch, but he had to also make sure that even their livestock- including the indoor and outdoor pets- had to be all taken extra care of. Ian stared at his reflection in the front entrance glass door. In his current state, he looked like some kind of manny who just happened to have finished performing a circus act- either being chased by a pack of cackling hyenas, or swimming in a tank full of great white sharks. This was the end of trying to be a serious manny. Maybe he would just have to work on being hired as a birthday clown for children in other parts of the village, or at least further away from the McGregor estate.

https://youtu.be/lvPvBTSr-mc?si=BzCOi0gA1kmXf0YM

Sunday 01.26.2025 #TheManny.

An accidental submarine run in, that's all it took. They happened to be nuclear subs, one American, one Russian. In a split second the world was immersed in nuclear war. The stockpiling began; the naive went for food and toilet paper, those more aware geiger counters or dosometers, and the batteries required to keep the functioning. The devices and batteries stored in every possible location to attempt assurance one would survive if they survived to use them. Most of the immediate deaths happened in the first forty eight hours. Missles were launched at all major cities and nuke stockpiles immediately when war was declared. Most were vaporized before they could clock what was happening, more still died of radiation burns so severe, their flesh was no longer connected to their bones. A small number suffered the slow, agonizing demise of radiation sickness. The length of their suffering diminished but worsened by the lack of medical care. These unlucky souls were caught up in the explosions at stockpile sites because these were the only ones that created substantial fallout.

That was it, the war was over. It ended faster than it started since the countries involved were immediately annihilated after years of stalemate.

What survivors there were sought sanctuary in less affected regions. Rural healthcare infrastructure was easily overwhelmed by survivors in desperate need of care they weren't equipped to provide. The extent of irradiated land is too vast to create monitered exclusion zones, especially since the government and economy are in shambles. Survivors hoard geiger counters to this day and pull them out when trecks to the old cities are undertaken in remembrance of the day forever etched into their minds. Country borders are used as checkpoints crossed only after radiological briefings. Permission is limited to survivors, ever since the decontamination efforts were abandoned. I've heard stories from survivors who have dared to return of the wildlife that thrives in the absence of humans. The former territories of the Russian Federation and the United States of America serve as vast reminders of what happens when countries have nuclear stockpiles.

Before anything else... this has to be said.

Miss Caroline Lenore insists that future scholars the future people who read about these incursions after the fact...

That she-- at fourteen years old-- genuinely had no idea how she ended up among Coven meetings for a Cold guerrilla war that had never been meant to break the oh-so frail veil shielding the unnatural, unexplainable to mortal eyes.

Therein was the first lie then, Caroline Lenore would write.

Incursions of witches against werewolves, moving against the scattered cabals of Vampire lands and drafting prophets across Europe in chains, it'd never been against France as a country.

There was no war-- should not be recorded-- as a war of France against Sweden and small, isolated holdings deep in Italy.

Perhaps there'd been an entirely unseen, unknowing third Party of provoking humans, perhaps they'd been the ones a little too close to the Covens, they'd sold plants that turned out to poison their potions and medical salves unknowing that they'd take lives.

Possibly the Wolves had had no choice but to expand their territories what with four cubs being born to a pair.

No one entirely knows how or if the wailing souls-- Ghosts-- even joined the conflict to begin with.

All Caroline Lenore knew is that she tried to focus on the good that came from befriending Yvette Evers. A witch-in-training from Petit Epee Way.

They claim that American’s have no culture when they’re the ones lacking in culture…

When they come to this country their morals and values are gone. They say it’s because “American women are just giving it away”.

Are they really? Or are the ’Greater Middle Eastern “men”’pretending to be interested to get into a white woman’s pants?

Aren’t they the ones selling the stories? I doubt they’re the ones who approach women by simply and honestly saying, “I just want to fuck” because according to them that’s “distasteful”. But if the women here are whores then why are they so concerned with logistics?

When they go to their country they can’t fuck around because their government and their people would kill them. They don’t do what they want in the mother land because of their culture?

Hypocrisy is when someone cries wolf while wearing sheep’s skin.

My counter arguments always begin and end with the cold and hard facts;

Culture is something that’s engrained into one’s soul; culture is not a jacket you hang up when it’s convenient, culture is something you love and admire, not something you disregard like the shit that comes out of the asshole.

These “greater” men are the worst of cowards, and I’m disgusted that we gift them our love, so they can boast about how much better they are than others.

They respect nothing and no one—they aren’t even worthy of being called pigs. Perhaps this is why they haven’t the stomach to eat the holy swine.

They have no integrity and they have no culture because they disown it when they leave their country.

Then they go back and marry their women—and feed them the leftovers.

And they proudly state that they respect women, but that women in America don’t respect themselves—but lying and cheating to get the prize, doesn’t really make anyone a winner.

It was a sunny day, but I suddenly saw smoke across the line. It was normal for the Tribes to camp and make fire, yet It was my duty to see through the telescope and report each and every change across the land. I went to the observation room and switched on our new improved telescope and camera in the direction of the smoke. This was the latest developed by our own engineers and the neighbors had no idea about it. It can show them to us perfectly even if they are camouflage. It can also show the difference in body temperature of the people hiding and their surroundings. I saw through the lense and was shocked of what was before me, it was no Tribes it was a group tanks. The troop may not know that I have seen them, yet they are dangerous. I took a copy of the image by our high quality camera and rushed to my seniors. My seniors was busy training some new cadets so they asked me to wait, but I showed them the emergency symbol and they announced a break. "Let it be important, or you might be punished if it were any animal stepping on the wire like last time", one of them told me. "Yes sir", saying it with a salute I handed over the images to them. They saw it and told,"it's clear China is declaring a war on Russia and they are having tanks", the person looked at me and asked,"how long it will take for them to know that they are being watched". "Approximately 4 hours sir", I replied. "Prepare the tanks available here and inform to bring the nearest within 2-3hrs. Also prepare long distant missiles and all the other weapons, China has no clue about", he ordered.

11.55

the dark and a moon shining in the sky...

It's the ending of the night

And you're waiting just for the midnight.

11.55 the time nobody misses the sky

I was born in darkness filled with lies

Nobody cares if the stars don't align

Even if they scream and cry

You wait for the midnight

Half sleepy and a half conscious mind

You call it a night

You are just waiting for the midnight

Chaoetic night, you want to skip the time.

Thats when I noticed

I was born on a little shy

Because with me its always

You want the time to fly

And sometimes it kinda makes me cry

911,What's your emergency?

It'S Mark Tucker.She made me laugh again.

Are you serious?

How bad is it this time?

It was deadpan.

One joke after another.

It really hurts.

I tried not to SMILE.

But she was relentless.

She had you in stitches eh?

That's not funny.

ok,I'LL send help right away.

Ow,that hurts.She's gonna PAY for this.

Were almost done here Mr Tucker.

There how does that feel?

Just Joking.

Ok,now were gonna run a few tests.

Knock knock?

I'm sorry,i couldn't help myself.

Mr Tucker.Here's an hour of deadpan jokes.

I'LL be in the next room.

If you feel any discomfort wave to me.

An hour passes by.

Everything looks good Mr Tucker.

We'll have you hooked back up to the iv in no time.

Meals on wheels,get it!

I guess in your case Mr Tucker laughters not the best medicine.

Although one time i had a patient with severe constipation.

I gave him an audio of dark comedy.

He laughed so hard he shit himself.

It gives a new meaning to comedy relief.

Before you go Mr Tucker,please sign here.

This is for the cost FOR ambulance,emergency room visit,and THE STITCHES...

.

Enchanted swords? Surely you jest.

Of enchanted weapons, clubs are best.

It won't suck out your opponent's soul,

Nor in their chest leave a giant hole -

But when its magic starts to crackle

It's even more useful than spackle

For should its sorcery cease to work,

You can still head-crack the opposing jerk.