Assassin Jailed

H. Freeb, 42, was jailed yesterday for the murder of Don Donald, the local mafia boss responsible for most of the organized crime in the area. Freeb was hired by rival boss Don Duck to take out Donald.

Our interviewer is reported to have tentatively approached Freeb in his cell, poking his spleen with a sharp stick and screaming “Meh!” Our interviewer is also reported to have been insane.

But how did Freeb, one of the most subtle and meticulous assassins in the region, fail in his task?

Said Freeb when asked, “To this day, I do not know. Every night, I lie awake, the...the unknowing plaguing me. I stare into the darkness of my cell, depression taking hold of me, tears streaming down my face. I cry out to God, to some higher power, to intervene, to act! To give me an answer! I cannot go on living this way, I simply cannot-”

Our interviewer was reported to have asked Freeb to shut up and get to the point.

Freeb then licked our interviewer, who responded by tearing the flesh off of Freeb’s face and devouring it whole. It was taken as a sign of mutual attraction.

An awkward pause followed, and finally our interviewer asked Freeb to give a general outline of what had happened that fateful day.

“I had planned it for weeks; every detail was carefully thought out with the utmost attention to timing and practicability. There could be no trace, and Donald could never suspect Duck to have been behind the act.”

Our interviewer then interrupted, saying that Donald couldn’t possibly suspect Duck if he was dead.

“QUIET, MAN-BEAST!” Freeb roared. He then continued with his story. “Finally, the day in question arrived. I donned a massive black overcoat and a pair of sunglasses and departed for Donald’s stronghold. Upon entering, the guards asked me what business I had with the Don.

“‘Why,’ I responded inconspicuously, ‘I am merely a simple FedEx man here to deliver Mr. Donald’s package, which is entirely free of lethal explosives that have a range of ten to twelve feet.’

“‘FedEx doesn’t deliver to the Don’s stronghold, you dullard,’ one of the guards said.

“I chuckled heartily. ‘We’re FedEx, silly! FEDEX KNOWS ALL!’

“‘Give us the package,’ the guard said menacingly as he and his partner bore down on me.

“They had seen through my clever ruse. Quickly I withdrew my pistol from within the folds of my overcoat and fired several bullets into their heads. They lay on the floor, limp; I moved on. When I reached the Don’s chamber, I encountered another guard posted outside the door.

“‘Did they examine your package?’ he asked.

“‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘and they told me to tell you that the explosives which are not in this package were not produced by __________, an arms manufacturer who specializes in close-range bombs that are often used to assassinate government officials and/or dons named Donald. They also told me that you should exit the building immediately, and station yourself at the residence of the local Hotard.

“‘All right,’ he said, and stepped away from the door.

“‘You will proceed to exit the building after I enter Mr. Donald’s room?’ I asked.

“‘Of course.’

“I opened the door and stepped inside; a few seconds later, everything went black. To this day, I do not know what occurred in the Don’s stronghold, and when I awoke, I found myself inside this cell.”

Our interviewer was silent for a long time.

Then he reached across, ripped Freeb’s eyes from their sockets, and rammed them into his left nostril.