By Dan Rice
CLEARWATER, Fla. — Hulk Hogan, famed professional wrestler, actor, and white nationalist, passed away earlier today, succumbing to health problems related to his nearly 40-year battle with Hulkamania.
“The Hulkster is at rest now,” confirmed publicist Andrew Corrone. “It’s no secret that he had been struggling for years. As we all know, Hulkamania is a terrible and degenerative illness. At first, the signs were slight — he would occasionally mistake friends, enemies, and total strangers for his brother, and one time he got confused and fought Rocky, but aside from that, he seemed almost functional. By the end, the condition eroded his hippocampus so severely that he became a cheerleader for President Trump. On behalf of the Hogan estate, we ask America to remember the man, not the freakish far-right ghoul this horrible affliction turned him into.”
Hogan was first diagnosed with Hulkamania in 1984 and became the disease’s most outspoken advocate, using his platform as WWF champion to raise awareness, fight the stigma, and raise money for research. Unfortunately, by the late ‘90s, he exhibited significant decline, committing such high-profile gaffes as showing up to the wrong wrestling organization with a basketball player as his partner.
Paul Bracko, a long-time aide to the Hulkster, painted a grim picture of his final days.
“By the end, pretty much all he could do was eat pulled pork nachos and say the n-word,” said Bracko. “That was how he communicated to me and the rest of the team. One n-word meant ‘yes.’ Two n-words meant ‘more nachos.’ Three n-words meant ‘Why is this pussy-ass generation booing me instead of buying my goddamn beer? I’m tired of this woke nonsense!’ It’s crazy how much you can glean from just the n-word when you really know a guy.”
Hogan drew significant criticism in recent years for his enthusiastic endorsement of Donald Trump during the 2024 election.
“Hulk would say things like ‘I really relate to this guy!’ and we would say ‘Hulk, you have a degenerative mental illness.’ He would say ‘Donald Trump really speaks my language!’ and we would say ‘Your language is a series of n-words only those closest to you can understand!’ He would just fire back, ‘More nachos,’” said family friend Kaylene Winston. “At the end of the day, we didn’t have power of attorney, so we called the ventriloquist, slapped some peanut butter under the Hulkster’s tongue, and let him do his ‘speech’ at the GOP convention. You know, he actually thought that shirt was trying to strangle him?”
When reached for comment, Hogan contemporary Booker T replied, “Yeah… I better not.”
HELL — Legendary professional wrestler, adulterer, and noted racist Hulk Hogan admitted he was confused as to why heaven seemed so much hotter than he imagined, confirmed demonic sources tasked with punishing the American icon for eternity.
“Woo brother let me tell you, it’s smoldering up here. I was expecting lots of fluffy clouds and some climate control when I died, but it’s just lots of molten lava, brimstone, and little demons trying to stick needles under my toenails, brother,” said Hogan seemingly unaware he was in Hell. “I thought I’d be reunited with a lot of the people I shared the ring with, but so far I’ve only seen Ultimate Warrior and he’s already annoying the hell out of me, brother. I asked him if this was really heaven, and he started laughing like a maniac, then ran around me in a circle for what seemed like hours. The biggest surprise is how many loose dogs with red glowing eyes keep biting me. Someone needs to get these things under control, brother.”
Saint Peter, the keeper of the Pearly Gates, explained that Hogan is exactly where he is meant to be.
“Look, religion gets a bad wrap, but we do actually have a code of conduct if you want to get into Heaven. It’s not rocket science, be a good person, do good things. Mr. Hogan has a history of racism, he made a sex tape with his supposed best friend’s wife, and he was an ego maniac that ruined careers,” said the saint. “He’s never getting through these gates as long as I’m in control here. And look, we have strict confidentiality rules, but we see everything you’ve ever done. And this guy was even worse behind the scenes when nobody was watching. But we’ve seen it, we’ve kept score. Enjoy Hell Terry.”
The Devil admitted he was excited to finally get to meet Hogan.
“I know I’ve been around since darkness was invented, but I feel like I grew up watching Hulk wrestle. I loved how he always put himself first and never let anyone share the spotlight, that’s my type of guy,” said Lucifer. “I didn’t love his all-American schtick telling kids to eat right and take vitamins, I wish he had told kids to do drugs and kill their parents. But he more than made up for that by becoming a huge Trump supporter. Helping usher in fascism is a surefire way to get you a prime spot in Hell. Torturing him for eternity is a literal dream come true.”
At press time, a clerical demon was seen putting the finishing touches on a cage with a plaque that says “Reserved For Vince McMahon.”
TALLAHASSEE, Fla. — Deputy Attorney General Todd Blanche is set to meet with Jeffrey Epstein accomplice Ghislaine Maxwell a few hours before she is found dead by suicide in her heavily guarded cell, sources confirmed.
“Ms. Maxwell was a close friend and associate of Jeffrey Epstein and we believe she is the key to getting to the bottom of what the disgraced financier and convicted sex offender had been up to behind he scenes. I’m looking forward to talking with her about how she has never met President Trump, and how the Obama administration used Epstein’s island as their home base,” said Blanche. “I do have to note that she has seemed despondent leading up to our meeting, it’s a real shame that she will probably decide to take her own life about 90 minutes after it ends when the CCTV monitoring her cell randomly malfunctions and all the guards assigned to her take their mandated 15 minute break at the exact same time. But, thankfully by then I will already have gotten all the answers we need to clear up all of this mess.”
At press time, President Trump is expected to release all the remaining classified files related to the Teapot Dome Scandal.
By Ryan Darrah
CHICAGO — A new sleep study released today by DIY Labs confirmed that your current level of inebriation is woefully inadequate for a punk’s night’s sleep.
“We hope these results demystify the science of sleep for punks everywhere,” said Dan Kane, who has been squatting in a storage closet at DIY Labs since 2018 and served as the lead punk in the study. “Our results were unequivocal: you gotta hit the bottle hard before you hit the hay. Punks need to stop worrying about mainstream sleep deprivation solutions like getting exercise or avoiding caffeine late in the day. Fretting over that type of thing has no meaningful impact on your sleep. In short, you need to get down to optimizing the timing of your peak intoxication to ensure you are three sheets to the wind whenever and wherever you hit the sheets.”
Dr. Karl Dowd, Assistant Director of University of Chicago’s Sleep Lab and former lead singer of short-lived Straight Edge act Pure Bliss, questioned the validity of the study.
“I hesitate to even call this a study since it was not peer-reviewed and they used Schlitz to get subjects sloshed,” said Dr. Dowd. “Even if actual sleep scholars could reproduce these results in a lab, the benefits to lay punks outside Milwaukee, or maybe Chicago, are likely negligible. Besides, it’s just not healthy for people to think they need to get tanked up before hunkering down for the night. What you’re supposed to do is go to bed early while completely sober, let the existential anxiety gradually sink in, and finally fall asleep at 4am like a normal person.”
Sleep study participant and former bassist of screamcore cult favorite Sentient Sardines, Jim Friel, disagrees, waiving his anonymity rights to sing the praises of the study.
“This whole experience was a game changer for me,” said Friel. “I’ve discovered that getting wasted is even more fun when you’re getting blitzed in the service of science! And I always thought I got the best rest in rooms with blackout blinds, but partyin’ with the DIY guys helped me understand that I can achieve my deepest sleep anywhere when I’m on the precipice of being blackout drunk.”
At press time, Dr. Dowd ended his Insomnia Support Group’s deep breathing session early to take them to a campus bar with a $3 special on PBR tallboys.
By Amy Currul
There I was, minding my own business, walking through the frozen food aisle at Stop & Shop, when the sweet sound of an A chord flew its way through the air and right into my pants. “Easy Lover” was playing, and Phil Collins had stopped singing long enough for the real show to begin — Daryl Stuermer’s guitar solo. Cleanup on aisle me!
It’s 8 am,and I’m only here this early because I forgot milk. I should not be gyrating in an empty aisle to ‘80s mom rock! Why is the store playing music this sexy this early? The college kids working here weren’t even born when this song came out. Hell, their parents were probably college kids, getting it on to this song! Oh god, does playing this music make it a Freudian thing?
Oh, and the video? Don’t even get me STARTED on him playing live in Berlin 1990 with Phil and the rest of the gang. That video has so much sex appeal it should be listed on PornHub. The way he thrusts his hips? Don’t let me around the gourd section right now unless you want to sell some discounted produce later.
God, I really need to get laid. What am I doing? Getting turned on at the grocery store? I am a 30-year-old woman! So what if my boyfriend dumped me 9 weeks and 3 days ago? My sexual stimulation should not be coming from the sweet serenading of Stuermer’s strumming layered on top of an announcement that Goya products are on sale.
Men: lemme tell you, they don’t make them like they used to anymore. Phil Collins? He could GET. IT. Those crazy print shirts, unbuttoned down to the bottom of their ribs? The right leather pants? The hair? It’s a good thing I’m in the frozen food aisle, because it’s getting a little toasty in between my legs right now.
Oh this isn’t good. What’s happening to me? Why is this suburban chain grocery store turning into a Magic Mike show? Why would they play music this sexy in the grocery store? Play classic music! Or elevator music! Play NPR for all I care! I can’t be this horny in public anymore! If Stop & Shop doesn’t take this jam out of rotation, I can’t be held responsible for my carnal actions because that solo has got a hold on me, believe it!
By Ben Friedman
ALLENTOWN, Pa. — Local man Adam Jones fell under scrutiny after his claims of “liking all genres of music” was merely referencing King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard’s discography, those close to him have confirmed.
“I definitely see myself as someone with a robust palette. Whether it’s psych rock, folk, electronic, garage rock, or thrash I love all the genres of guitar music. It just so happens King Gizzard encompasses all of that and more so yeah, I like everything,” said Jones. “There’s 27 albums to choose from, I mean that’s pretty much the most of the musical spectrum. Why delve into the history of prog rock with six different playlists when I can just put on ‘Polygondwanaland’ and call it a day? It’s everyone else who’s stuck in their own audio prisons, not me.”
Jones’ girlfriend didn’t realize his tastes revolved entirely around the band until months into their relationship.
“I was attracted to Adam’s open mindedness and that he wasn’t some gatekeeping snob. It wasn’t until we went to a jazz club a few weeks ago and he asked when they were going to get to singing about huntsman spiders. He then explained ‘Sketches of Brunswick East’ to me for over an hour and I realized he’s not listened to anything outside of King Gizzard,” said Kelly Pollack. “I asked if he’d at least heard of Coltrane, and he thought that was a toothpaste. I seriously can’t take on the mental load of trying to broaden his horizons outside of an Australian rock band.”
Record store owners were quick to point out many music fans like Jones existed, much to their chagrin.
“I’m always catching shit from supposed know-it-alls who get caught up in these genre-hopping bands like KGLW. Most of these groups actually are great but their versatility ends up having its own gravitational pull, per se,” said Kirk Mulholland. “Can’t tell you how many times I’ve had someone come in here asking for any ska, hardcore, and jazz fusion records and then get visibly confused and upset when I don’t produce a Mr. Bungle album. And don’t get me started on Ween fans, I had to give them their own section of the shop to make them happy.”
As of press time, Jones told his girlfriend he’d branched out to liking country rock after getting around to buying King Gizzard’s “Flight b741” album.
BY Nick Coffman
Superman is coming off another big weekend at the box office. James Gunn’s DC revival is making waves this summer, especially with audience members returning to capture every little detail on display in the epic superhero movie. One detail that audiences are still scratching their head over is what the ‘S’ on Superman’s chest stands for. The film doesn’t outright say, but we did some digging to try and find the answer.
Upon seeing the movie again, my early analysis brought me to the conclusion that the S stands for ‘Sex Machine’. It make’s sense if you think about it. His parents sent him from Krypton to have sex with a bunch of Earth women. It’s just a shame that Clark didn’t land in a house that contained a copy of Neil Strauss’ The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists. He would for sure have a brood of Kryptonian hybrids in no time, but no he instead landed in the sexless home of Jonathan and Martha Kent and developed feelings.
Back to the drawing board for my third watch I noticed that Superman was saving every one. I dug through all the S words I knew. Save? No. Squirrel? No. Sissy…yes, that must be it, I thought at the moment. The S stands for ‘Sissy’. Who actually believes that they can save everyone? And why are you so nice to everyone? You are Superman. You can freeze everyone to death by blowing on them. You can melt through our skulls with your laser beams. Stop being so damn nice, you sissy. I was sure I had finally found what the S stood for, then Superman threw Ultraman into a dark abyss and it was back to the drawing board.
Does it stand for ‘Supergirl’? That’d be some smart early marketing for the next movie. Oh wait, that’s right, she’s in this.
What about ‘soft-reboot’? No. That’s just dumb.
My multiple Superman viewings and my deep dive into a dictionary left me broke and no closer to finding out what the S stood for. Gunn was also being annoyingly tightlipped about the symbol. I was stumped. I’ve turned out articles like this for every superhero movie since the original X-men run. I pulled easter egg after easter egg and milked theme after theme from these movies, for the sake of SEO, yet here I am, all bent out of shape about what this S stands for. I am no man of steel. Wait. Steel. Man of Steel. Oh my god.
Gunn, you magnificent genius. The S on Superman’s chest stands for ‘Snyder’, as in Zack Snyder. This is amazing. How could I have not seen this before. Gunn was paying his respect to those who came before him. If not for Snyder providing the blueprint with his heroic run of Superman movies, we may never have seen James Gunn work his magic in the DCEU. Thank you Mr. Gunn for respecting the history and thank you Mr. Snyder for making all this possible.