ISIS Claims Responsibility For Deadly Car Bomb Attack: "We're Sorry."

BAGHDAD- The Islamic State in Iraq (ISIS) has claimed responsibility for a car bomb explosion in central Baghdad on Monday morning that killed several people and injured dozens more, apologizing profusely for the incident. "We're sorry," the online message said. "We swear we didn't know the bomb would do that. We were just trying to have a little fun, trying to scare some people. We take full responsibility for today's tragic attack. Allahu Akbar! Death to the Great Satan!" The Iranian Parliament and U.S. Foreign Affairs Committee condemned the attack, but accepted the apology. "By taking responsibility for this terrible attack, ISIS has demonstrated the caring and responsible nature that we have come to expect from them," Iraqi Prime Minister Haider al-Abadi said, citing numerous examples of ISIS humbly claiming responsibility for dozens of brutal attacks throughout the world. He urged young people of Iraq to follow the example of ISIS and to "take responsibility for your actions."

Two Arrested Following Midnight Bar Fight; ISIS Claims Responsibility

ST. GEORGE- Two St. George men are in police custody following a dispute at a local bar that turned ugly Saturday night. 

The Islamic State in Iraq (ISIS) immediately claimed responsibility.

Witnesses reported that the two men began arguing loudly sometime around midnight, followed by punches and "one of the men being tossed over the bar." One report also stated one of the men was thrown down the bar and slid down it from end to end, comically smashing other patrons' beer glasses, and then crashing through the wall, "like in all those saloon fights from Western films." 

In the statement that appeared online just hours following the assault, a group claiming to be ISIS condoned the incident and encouraged its followers around the world to commit similar attacks in Western alcohol establishments. "Allah's wrath is kindled against His enemies," it read. "Let those who profess His great name show their loyalty by throwing punches and instigating bar brawls wherever drunken discord can be found. Allahu Akbar!" State officials could not immediately confirm the authenticity of the message.

One man suffered facial lacerations and bruising while the other broke a finger, but otherwise no serious injuries were reported. The two men have been booked into Purgatory Correctional Facility on $1000 bail. The bar's owner stated he would likely press charges due to damage caused to his wall and expensive beer glasses.

Following the attack, U.S. federal authorities warned all bars, beer gardens, pubs, dives, honky tonks, lounges, roadhouses, taverns, drinkeries, and taphouses to be on high alert for more drunken brawls inspired by ISIS's "call to brawl." Authorities also noted that the Islamic State, whose calls to violence in the past two years have led to devastating terror attacks, seems to be shifting its focus to more "domestic" incidents.

ISIS has claimed responsibility for a string of local incidents lately, including a recent hike in city water rates, the malfunctioning city carousel that injured a woman in February, two cases of shoplifting at Target and Family Dollar, a local outbreak of influenza, and in general, any negative thing that has ever happened, to anyone, anywhere, at any given time.

The Price I Have Paid

The Price I Have Paid 

by Holman Greenmanstein

Somewhere, off in the distance, a gun fired.

Martin Chesters heard the blast and sighed. "Sigh," he said.

As it turned out, the blast came from Martin Chester's own gun, as he riddled his sick cancerous pet skunk Macklehiney with bullets.

"Goodbye Macklehiney," he sobbed. "May your foul stench fill every corner of skunk heaven, eternally! Amen and amen!"

Following the burial, which took place in Martin's driveway and was attended by more than 500 people who had been touched in some way by the life of Macklehiney, Martin retired to his living quarters. Many of his old friends had desired to spend the evening with him, but he declined. Alone time was what he needed this night. This darkest of nights.

Supper consisted of a piece of cornbread and a cup of milk. It was simple, but it was sustenance. "I am sustained," he muttered to himself.

After supper, he wept for the loss of his friend. The only friend he had ever known.

Macklehiney.

Was it only 5 days ago that Martin had come across young Macklehiney, traipsing through his watermelon patch, spewing stench in every direction for the pure thrill of stench spewing? Ah, he thought. How quickly time had passed!

Was it only 5 days ago that Martin had taken Macklehiney in, to care for and nourish the young skunk as a new mother would nourish a youngling at her bosom?

Was it only 5 days ago that Martin had raised the skunkling above his head and proclaimed, "He shall be called after the name of my grandfather, the famed Macklehiney Chesters!"

In the midst of his weeping and reminiscing, a vision opened to him. A vision of the most glorious scene! Martin stared in awe at it. Before him lay a vast meadow, surrounded by towering blue snow-capped mountains. Wildflowers dotted the meadow, among which leapt... skunks! Dozens of skunks! Big skunks, little skunks, red skunks, blue skunks, yellow skunks, green skunks, black skunks, and white skunks are all at a skunk party! What a skunk party! "I like it! I like this skunk party!" shouted Martin.

Then the vision took a terrible turn.

One of the skunks, who only moments before had been prancing about gaily and spewing stench in all directions, now stopped and looked at Martin. No, thought Martin. It couldn't be. It just couldn't.

Macklehiney!

"Oh Macklehiney!" cried Martin, weeping into the feet of his only friend. "I'm so sorry! I swear I shall find the one who murdered you and make him pay with blood!"

"BUT MR. CHESTERS..." bellowed Macklehiney. His voice was deep and sorrowful.

"Yes, yes, what is it my friend?" queried Martin, staring up into the face of Macklehiney. "Do tell! Who is it that committed this terrible deed? Tell me so that I may seek vengeance!"

"MR. CHESTERS... IT WAS... YOUUUUUUUUU..." And he raised his little skunk paw and pointed it at Martin.

"It was?" asked Martin. "Me? I did this?" And then a sudden realization came to him.

It WAS him. It had apparently slipped his mind. You see, Martin Chesters suffered from a very severe form of short term memory loss.

"Well bust my buttons!" he chortled.

Then, without warning, Macklehiney spun around and blasted him with stench! "Curse your fetid anal glands!" cried Martin as he clutched his face in agony and crumpled to the ground. "I thought we were friends!"

Then all went black.

What seemed like an eternity later, Martin Chesters opened his eyes. To his delight, he was back in his quarters, sprawled out upon the floor. 

Martin Chesters was a changed man that day. For the worse, that is. He spent the rest of his days as a bitter recluse. He would chase passersby off his lawn with his shotgun, shout vile profanities at Christmas carolers when they would come knocking on his door, and would spit in the money buckets of Salvation Army people outside Wal-Mart. Not just little spits. Big nasty hawkers, the kind you would expect from a crazy hick with a pet skunk. Thus passed the days of Martin Chesters.

The End