The World O' Crap Archive

Welcome to the Collected World O' Crap, a comprehensive library of posts from the original Salon Blog, and our successor site, world-o-crap.com (2006 to 2010).

Current posts can be found here.

Saturday, December 25, 2010

September 5, 2003 by Scott



No Plans for Further Lawsuits, O’Reilly Announces;Pledges to Confront "Liberal Bias" in Media with "An Army of Killer Robots"
--By World O'Crap Mad Science Editor Scott C.

The sky roiled with restless, slate-gray clouds, while a sharp wind carried the smell of rain and a faint, skin-prickling charge of electricity. Cattails and willows shifted uneasily in the breeze, as a giant octopus stirred the greasy, brackish surface of the swamp, seemingly impatient for the coming storm. And yet, despite the promise of thunder and lightening, Dr. Erich Vornoff graciously agreed to take a brief respite from his busy schedule and speak to us about his work for Fox News host Bill O’Reilly.

World O’Crap: Dr. Vornoff, thanks for speaking with us. Now I understand you’re holed up in this swamp, building a race of atomic supermen to conquer the world?

Vornoff: Pah! I wish. No, I’m just a subcontractor. We’re producing an army of mechanical monsters to enable Bill O’Reilly to conquer Janet Maslin.

WOC: Did that strike you as an unusual request?

Vornoff: No, actually most of our orders for killer robots come from FoxNews personalities. Neil Cavuto’s trying to get a Terminator from the future to kill Paul Krugman’s mother, but it’s tied up in Customs right now.

WOC: And how’s your project going?

Vornoff: Slowly, I’m afraid. Bill’s finicky. I can’t tell you how many times he tore up the blueprints and sent our design boys back to the drawing board. Our first model, which featured a 20mm cannon that fired depleted uranium slugs, and a tungsten and Kevlar armature, was based on the popular bobblehead doll technology.

Vornoff: But O’Reilly rejected the whole design because, while deadly, he thought it looked too much like James Carville. Our next model was the fruit of six years of R&D. It was originally commissioned in 1997 by Brent Bozell, who hoped we could create a terror weapon powerful enough to counteract the intimidating psychological effects of the Clinton Penis®.

Vornoff: Unfortunately, when the prototype was finally unveiled, it made Jonah Goldberg grab a trowel and attempt to burrow back into his mother’s womb. We finally went with this model…

Vornoff: O’Reilly felt the smooth, chinless design was a flattering homage to his dewlap. Plus, they’re as cheap to mass produce as a Kia.

WOC: So I take it you’ve worked closely with Bill. What’s he really like?

Vornoff: Well…Ordinarily, I wouldn’t say this about a man with an army of killer robots as his command, but since the check hasn’t cleared yet, I’ll be frank. He scares me.

WOC: Scares you?

Vornoff: Well. I guess that’s unfair. Disgusts me is more accurate. Every time he calls, all he wants to talk about is the Death Ray. ‘Did you install the Death Rays yet? What’s the range on that Death Ray? Can you Death Ray more than one person at a time?’ I just don’t get it. You don’t build a Death Ray just so you can Death Ray people, you build it so you can conquer the world! But not Bill…He’s all, like, ‘In this country, famous people aren’t allowed to Death Ray their enemies. Nooo. Uh-uh. You can be poor and have an army of killer robots, and that’s all right, but if you’re rich in this society, what happens? The New York Times sends hit squads of intelligent raptor-monkeys to your house in the Hamptons to steal your Death Ray equipped androids.’

WOC: Well, a lot of conservative pundits feel that way…

Vornoff: I guess what I’m saying is…Did he go to Catholic school, or something? Because I think he must have gotten beat up as lot as a kid. Plus, when we were initially looking for something to test the Death Ray on, he brought over a crate of those ‘boxing nun’ dolls, and insisted that we fry it.

 "He scares me," says Vornoff.

"Have you seen his eyes? I think he’s unbalanced. And frankly," Vornoff added, "not that fair."
***
By this time the storm was howling, and bolts of lightning were striking the electrodes on the roof of Vornoff’s secluded manor house. We took our leave and drove back to the city in time to catch that evening’s O’Reilly Factor. And as we watched, we were mused that whatever shameful traumas may motivate Bill’s hysterical touchiness, whether it be bedwetting, adolescent bullying, or perhaps a Medea-like mother who deliberately confused him about where he lived, there is one thing Bill will always have: his dignity. This revelation was driven home to us as we watched and admired the elegant way O’Reilly handled one of his typically sniping naysayers:
O’REILLY: What the hell do you know about it? I won a Nobel Prize!
GUEST: But Bill, according to our Lexis-Nexis, you’ve never won any award—
O’REILLY: You’re wrong! Because when I say ‘I’, I mean we won a Nobel Prize.
GUEST: But your show’s never—
OREILLY: And when I say ‘we’ obviously I mean…fellow bipeds. It’s a complete and vicious lie for you to print that other homo sapiens have never won a Nobel Prize!
GUEST: Look, whatever awards you claim to have won, that still doesn’t prove that Al Franken killed Mother Theresa by jabbing her in the thigh with a curare-tipped umbrella—
O’REILLY: Shut up! Shut up! Turn off his mike! Wait—He’s got a pacemaker! Shut that off too!
Dignity. Always, dignity.

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