The Onion Presents Part 4

"I know the overwhelming majority of American kids who owned an Aqua a.s.sault RoboFighter derived many hours of safe, responsible fun from it," CPSC commissioner Mary Sheila Gall said. "But, statistically speaking, three deaths stemming from contact with a particular toy const.i.tutes an 'unreasonable risk.' Look, I'm really sorry about this. Honestly. But our agency's job is to protect the public from hazardous products, even if those who die are morons who deserved what they got."

NEWS IN BRIEF.

World Inspired By First Snowman To Win Luge VANCOUVER-In what has become the most inspiring story at the XXI Winter Olympiad, the luge was won Sunday by the most unlikely of compet.i.tors: Tom, a snowman rolled together just two days earlier by the Kansy family of Vancouver. "Another barrier falls, marking a historic day for iced people everywhere," was the call from NBC's Bob Costas as Tom took the top spot on the Olympic victory podium. "Tom has proven it matters not the composition of your skin, only whether you are capable of competing at the highest possible level. He entered these Olympics as Tom the Snowman, but history will remember him as Tom the Luger." Tom was unavailable for comment as the Kansy family had only given him a twig for a mouth.

AMERICAN VOICES.

Christmas Trees More Expensive Due to high fuel costs, the price of Christmas trees will be around 10 percent higher this year. What do you think?

Terry Golden

Personal a.s.sistant

"The high costs have affected Hanukkah, too. I could only afford a menorah with four candleholders."

Grace Patrochis

Systems a.n.a.lyst

"That tricky Jesus. Always trying to make a buck."

Chuck Warner

Caddy

"I cut down my own tree every year. It makes Christmas more meaningful without the ha.s.sle of attending church."

OPINION.

Secret Santas Are For s.h.i.t The Cruise

by Jim Anchower

Hola, amigos. What's going on? I know it's been a long time since I rapped at ya, but I've been carrying a heavy load lately. The winter's really depressing the s.h.i.t out of me. Between the cold and the 14 hours of darkness, I never want to leave the house. All my pals are in the same boat, so they don't come over and hang out like they usually do. Good thing I got my Game-Cube. That's all the friends I need.

I did manage to find myself a gig for the month, though. There's this Christmas store called Holiday Land, where they sell all kinds of festive s.h.i.t: wreaths, trees, mistletoe, and candles that are supposed to smell like cinnamon or pine but just smell like stink-candles. You probably know the place. In October, it was called Spooky World, and they sold masks and vampire fangs. I was hoping I could find all that old Halloween stuff in storage so I could snag a few tubes of fake blood, but they have this warehouse they send all the stuff back to when the season's over.

I'm in the tree department. I guess I got my wish to get a job where I can burn off some of my gut, 'cause all I do is haul c.r.a.p around all day. I take people's trees and run them through this tube of nylon net so they can tie it to their car without needles and branches flying all over the place. The pay's pretty decent, and I guess everyone's all right, except my boss, Mr. Smalley. The guy's a total d.i.c.kweed. He thinks he's being funny when he calls me Jim Clamchowder, like I didn't hear enough of that in eighth grade.

Last Friday, Smalley totally dressed me down for wishing someone a Merry Christmas. I told him I thought we were supposed to say that, and he was like, "You're supposed to say 'Happy Holidays.' It fosters an environment of religious inclusion." I got a news flash for you, Smalley: It don't make no difference if you tell them "Happy a.s.s Day." They're there to get a Christmas tree, not a holiday tree.

Then there's the whole Secret Santa thing. Smalley was all like, "Come on, it'll be fun!" Now, I've got a pretty good idea of what fun is, and some bulls.h.i.t Secret Santa just doesn't make the cut. It wasn't like we were required to partic.i.p.ate, but it was "strongly suggested." It's like peer pressure. In junior-high health cla.s.s, they never had film strips about Secret Santa peer pressure, but they should've. And they should've starred Smalley, shaking a coffee can full of names in your face.

I drew Nancy, this old chick at the checkout counter. I had no idea what to get her. We'd barely said three words to each other since I started working there. All I knew about her was that she smoked New-ports and had an enormous rack.

The days flew by, and I kept forgetting to pick something up. The day before we were supposed to swap gifts, I thought long and hard about it on the drive home from work. It's tough work trying to figure out what to get someone you don't know and won't be working with in three weeks. It was making me thirsty, so I pulled over to the big warehouse liquor store on the way home. That's when it hit me.

Right in front, they had this huge stack of what can only be called paradise. It was a tower of 12-packs of Miller Genuine Draft that was at least as tall as me. The 12-packs were on sale for $6.50. At that price, I'd have been stupid not to get it for the Secret Santa, especially since it was definitely under the $10 spending limit. I picked one up for Nancy and grabbed three for me. I wasn't about to spread that sort of holiday cheer without getting a little for myself.

I took my treasure trove home, put one of my twelves in the fridge, and looked for some wrapping paper. All I had was a bunch of Walgreens circulars that had been piling up for, like, three months and some duct tape. After the longest 15 minutes of my life, I finally finished the wrap job. Rewarding myself for a job well done, I took out one of my beers and had a swig.

The next day, I went to the break-room table and, sure enough, there was a gift waiting for me from my Secret Santa. It was definitely too small to be beer, but maybe they got me a pint of Dr. McGillicuddy's or something. I put my package with the others and got to work.

At about 4:30, we knocked off a half-hour early so we could eat cookies and open our presents. After five or six people went, it came time for Nancy to open hers. As she started to open it, I yelled, "Hey, save the paper-I took a lot of time wrapping that!" Everyone laughed, and I knew I had it made.

As she was opening it, she had this weird look on her face. Then she started shaking. Some of the other cashiers were staring at me, giving me the stink eye. Nancy looked up at me and said thanks for the gift, but told me she'd quit drinking about four months ago. I was like, "All right! More for me!" but this time, no one laughed. I kept to myself the rest of the "party," and every once in a while, I'd get dirty looks from the other cashiers. How was I supposed to know Nancy was on the wagon? When the party ended, I just drove home and went through the better part of one of my 12-packs.

And what did I get from my Secret Santa? A red and green scarf. Man, there are so many things wrong with that. First off, Jim Anchower doesn't wear scarves. Never have, and I ain't about to break tradition just because someone got me one. Second, I never wear red and green. s.h.i.t, why not just knit me a sweater with a reindeer and the words "Kick my a.s.s" on it? That'd do the job just as well. Sometimes, there's no justice.

But like I said, I ain't ungrateful. I'm sure my Secret Santa, Debbie from the back office, thought it was cool. We can't all be blessed with good taste. I took the scarf and threw it under my bed. At least now I have something to give if I ever get suckered into doing another Secret Santa.

New Year's Eve had better be better than Christmas is shaping up to be. That's all I'm saying.

NEWS IN BRIEF.

McCain Stares at Screen, Attempts To Write Family Christmas Letter SEDONA, AZ-After procrastinating for several hours by watching It's A Wonderful Life and old John Wayne movies, former Republican presidential nominee John McCain finally sat down at the computer to type his annual "Christmas Bulletin" to friends and family early this afternoon, but found himself completely blocked. "They say you're never too old to learn," McCain slowly typed before pausing, reading the sentence over, and tapping the backs.p.a.ce key until it was deleted. Forty-five minutes later, after two aborted attempts to compose the letter from the point of view of the family cat, Oreo, and another about what 2009 held in store for the McCain clan, the Arizona senator took a break to make a cup of hot cocoa and listen to the grandfather clock ticking in the background. "Jesus," McCain mumbled. "Jesus Christ." McCain returned to the den around 5:30 p.m., at which point he placed a fresh stack of candy-cane stationery in the printer, stared at the screen for another 10 minutes, and finally decided to go to sleep for a long, long time.

TIPS.

Toy-Buying Tips for Parents Not all toys are created equal. Here are some tips to help you choose playthings for your children that are safe and educational: * Decide what you would like your child to be, then only buy toys that steer him or her in that direction.

* If it is Finnish, sold at an upscale toy boutique, and three times as expensive as a comparable toy made by an American company, it is safe and educational.

* You can never go wrong buying your child a crystal-radio set. It's a great way for him or her to learn about crystal radios.

* Often, the best toys are the simplest. For example, sewing cards, through which a piece of yarn is laced, enhances a child's motor skills and teaches the fundamentals of sewing. Yeah, sewing cards are a whole f.u.c.king lot of fun.

* If one of your children is killed playing with a chemistry set, make a game of it by challenging your surviving children to reanimate him or her.

* Visit your local mall for such upscale toy stores as Wooden Toys Your Kids Will Hate and Professor f.a.ggot Q. Boredom's Lame-U-Cational c.o.c.ksuckery.

* One of the best educational toys you can buy your child is a pet. A rabbit, for example, can teach him or her about the life cycle, mammalian reproduction, toxicology, comparative anatomy, and cooking.

* When toy shopping, look for the Joe Mantegna Seal Of Safety. It's your only guarantee that the toy has been deemed safe by Joe Mantegna.

* Rounded edges on toys should be sharpened in case your child tries to chop vegetables with them.

* It's amazing how much kids can learn about chemistry the old-fashioned way. As soon as you get home from work, demand that they mix you an Old-Fashioned.

* After your child unwraps his or her new toy, throw it on the ground and stomp on it. If any small pieces break off, the toy is too dangerous for young children.

* Erector sets are a great way to get your preteen started on making juvenile s.e.x puns.

* Buy your child expensive, collectible toys and forbid him or her to take them out of the box. This will teach your child valuable life lessons about longing, deprivation, and resentment.

NEWS IN BRIEF.

World's Jews Celebrate Christmas With Ceremonial Re-Murdering Of Christ JERUSALEM-As Christians everywhere celebrate the birth of Christ this holiday season, the world's approximately 14 million Jews are also commemorating the special holiday, as they do each year, by ceremonially re-murdering the Baby Jesus. Details of the time-honored Jewish tradition include the baking of a baby-shaped potato pancake, which is filled with beet juice and then beheaded by a demon-horned rabbi using a specially blessed "baby-killing" knife. "I love devouring Christians' young almost as much as corrupting maidens," said Benjamin Levy, 89. "It's a magical time for all." The re-murdering is among the most important celebrations of the Jewish calendar, second only to the springtime "Poisoning of the Easter Wells" festival.

NEWS.

Chicago Rolls Out Cold-Weather Prost.i.tutes CHICAGO-From the barren tree branches to the colorful Christmas decorations, the signs of another Windy City winter are everywhere you look. And with the chilly air and fresh snow comes the sight of local residents replacing their regular three-season hookers with prost.i.tutes better capable of handling the tough Chicago streets.

Across the city, residents are swapping out regular hookers with more dedicated, cold-weather prost.i.tutes in their cars.

Unlike many other parts of the country, where milder temperatures and lighter snowfalls allow for the convenience of all-year prost.i.tutes, citizens of Chicago must turn to thicker, st.u.r.dier working girls who can provide the high performance needed to get through the worst their notorious winter has to offer.

"When temperatures drop below zero, you need prost.i.tutes you can depend on when they're needed most," said area resident Phillip Eadie, who mounted four cold-weather hookers earlier this month. "The last thing you want during a raging blizzard is to get stuck with a prost.i.tute who's not up to the task when it really counts."

"Seriously, if it weren't for cold-weather prost.i.tutes, I don't think I'd ever leave the house," he added.