Throughout the global pandemic, it seems that every day just brings more and more bad news. New numbers. Alarming statistics. Stories of death and pain. Images of hospitals overrun and… You get it. Just turn on your t.v.
To counter this gloom, the Intergalactic Business Report set out to find some truly positive updates about Covid-19 and deliver it to our readers so they can once again feel the comfort of good news for a change. Here’s what we came up with:
1. If you’re reading this, you aren’t dead yet.
2. Twerking doesn’t seem to spread the virus.
3. That’s all we’ve got. Sorry.
Ozark is renewed for a 14 episode final season and fans everywhere are saying, “Hey, wouldn’t it be fun to launder money?” While we can’t legally recommend laundering, we can point out the best and worst ways to do it.
BEST: Buy real estate in ultra-expensive empty buildings. Then just sit on it as it accumulates value.
WORST: Buy precious metals, melt them down, and build a toilet out of them, so no one suspects your toilet is worth 8 Million dollars. Then just sit on it as it accumulates stankiness.
BEST: Open shell companies with offshore bank accounts.
WORST: Sell seashells by the seashore.
BEST: Become a “partner” with someone who has a cash business.
WORST: Give money to homeless people and tell them to bring it back to you once they’ve doubled it.
BEST: Have a “front” like a laundry mat or Chinese restaurant, where you pretend to do legitimate business.
WORST: Make fortune cookies with messages inside asking if anyone has good money-laundering ideas with your phone number on them.
BEST: Open a “Gentleman’s club” and put all the cash earnings in a safe.
WORST: Open a Gentleman’s club and deposit all your money in strippers’ g-strings.
BEST: Make zero interest loans to people but don’t actually give them the money.
WORST: Vaguely “bet on yourself” or “invest in” people. Talk a lot about how you can’t measure the value of a person. Then slowly go broke.
BEST: Have a secret offshore account through which you funnel all your profits.
WORST: Have children.
BEST: Start any business that has to do with concrete.
WORST: Bankroll your son’s band.
Probably the most important question coming from the global pandemic is whether or not Bigfoot and others will finally show their faces now that humans tricked them into thinking we all had left the planet.
As we sit back and hope for their sightings, we profile a list of the very best and worst crypto monsters out there.
BEST: Chupacabra. Creepy, reptilian dog creature that kills livestock.
WORST: Charo, reptilian Love Boat guest star who kills people’s sanity by making them question why she’s famous.
BEST: Mothman. West Virginia winged creature.
WORST: Mathman. Only person in West Virginia able to do basic algebra.
BEST: Loch Ness Monster. Scottish lake monster.
WORST: Loch Ness Hipster. Bearded dude who lives by the lake, wears a pork pie hat, and plays a ukulele.
BEST: Cadborosaurus. Sea serpent in the Pacific Northwest.
BEST: Bigfoot. Also known as Sasquatch. Hairy ape creature from North America.
WORST: Phil Ratuliak.
BEST: Kraken. Sea monster with massive tentacles.
WORST: Phil McCracken. Massive testicles. Something like that.
BEST: Mokele-mbembe. Dinosaur in Africa.
WORST: Dikembe Mutombo.
BEST: Beast of Bodmin Moor. Phantom wildcat in Cornwall, England.
WORST: Trisha Henson. 47-year-old cougar from Cornwall, Iowa. She appears at the Applebee’s bar, vanishes from your apartment the next morning, and then returns to your nightmares every night thereafter.
BEST: Mongolian Death Worm. Harmless myth that isn’t true.
WORST: People who claim the Mongolian Death Worm is a real thing.
BEST: Jersey Devil. Horse that walks on two legs.
WORST: Virtually anyone from New Jersey. Whether they walk on two legs or not.
BEST: Skunk Ape. Stinky humanoid from Florida.
WORST: Your college roommate. Stinky humanoid who was on the top bunk.
BEST: Piasa. Native American dragon bird.
WORST: Butterball. Immobile turkey from your fridge.
As part of our commitment to fairness and worldwide peace, the Intergalactic Business Report agreed to publish Phillip Ratuliak’s letter to us. While we stand by our writing and claims about Mr. Ratuliak, we also respect his lame attempt to refute us.
Dear readers of the Intergalactic Business Report:
Maybe a year ago, a friend of mine told me that my name was mentioned in this publication. I’d never heard of it, so I looked it up, and found the article. I believe it was about how I supposedly had a museum in the bathroom of my house called “The Largest Contiguous Human Shit Museum.”
I dug deeper and found more articles, each more disturbing and inappropriate than the last. In one, it’s suggested that people name their penis after me. Another claims I am a creature from outer space. Their obsession even included naming a cocktail after me.
I want to make something clear to anyone who may be reading this. I do not know anyone at the Intergalactic Business Report. I have never met anyone there. I have absolutely no association with them whatsoever.
I did have a short phone call, in which I asked them if they would please stop using my name in their publication. I was directed to one of their editors who explained to me that the stories written about me had been done by writers from an alternative universe, who had come through a portal, written their articles, and then returned to their dimension.
The editor then asked if he could borrow money from me. I told him no. He suggested I could pay him for an “advertorial,” which would be a positive article about me. I told him I didn’t need that. I just wanted him to stop putting out nonsense about me and my life that wasn’t true. He muttered something about how I didn’t understand how expensive Taco Bell was. That was the extent of our conversation.
After threatening a lawsuit, I received notice from IBR that they would agree to publish my own words so that readers could hear from me. They also brought up the advertorial again. I found that to be a TOTALLY NORMAL idea and one that I WANTED BADLY. They said it would cost ten thousand dollars. Again, I made it clear to them that I would TOTALLY BE interested in some fake story about myself. I also found it COMPLETELY NORMAL to ask me for ten thousand dollars, which I would HAPPILY pay them.
The Intergalactic Business Report agreed to publish this letter, in my own words, and to KEEP PUMPING OUT THOSE AWESOME stories bearing my name.
Thank you for reading,
The Intergalactic Business Report has named Phil Ratuliak the human being most like the Coronavirus. This pronouncement was not made lightly and we feel that while other candidates were worthy of being considered as nasty as the pandemic virus that is ruining the year 2020, Phil’s unique qualities distinguish him from others. Below we list the evidence.
1. Like the Coronavirus, Phil Ratuliak makes people afraid of being exposed to him.
2. If you touch Phil Ratuliak, you will feel okay about it for a day or so, but then you’ll realize how much you regret it for the next two weeks.
3. The Coronavirus started through unsafe wet markets in China. Phil Ratuliak started when Randy Ratuliak found Lucy Bonalli’s wet mark senior year in high school. Also extremely unsafe.
4. If you wear a mask you will be protected from Phil recognizing you in a mall and trying to get in your face to ask you questions like, “How you been?” and “So what have you been up to?”
5. While you hope that Phil will eventually just “die out” he seems to keep going and you have to accept that he’s going to be around for probably like a million years or something.
6. Phil Ratuliak can travel through ventilation systems, because he’s an HVAC repair guy.
7. Many people will attest that Phil Ratuliak is the worst thing that’s ever happened to our planet.
8. You may have come in contact with Phil and not even known it. His stank is on you. And you transfer it to every person you meet.
9. When Phil comes into your life you worry about how awful he is until summer and then you just kind of forget he was ever there.
The Intergalactic Business Report is humbled by the recent news that it has been awarded the prestigious Intergalactic Business Report prize for the best coverage anywhere of the Coronavirus crisis. Supreme editor Dusty Latouffe has this message about the nature of the award and what it means for our publication.
It is with great humility that I accept the first ever Intergalactic Business Report award for best coverage in the entire universe of the Corona virus situation. I was shocked and surprised to hear that we had won over the likes of the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, and all major news networks on the planet.
That we were selected is an honor. But it is also a reminder that those other places do suck. And they suck hard. I offer them my sincere appreciation for their contribution to the news, but at the same time I offer them my giant dick to suck upon.
Some critics have said that the Intergalactic Business Report shouldn’t be allowed to win its own prize. But yet we did, against all odds. Naysayers and prognosticators all told us that it was impossible because winning our own prize could only be done if we somehow cheated or “rigged the system” in our favor.
To these people, I can only say, “Look who won.” It was us. Clearly. This is the kind of proof that no one can dispute. And, again, to these critics I offer my thick, veiny penis for them to suck thoroughly.
I want to thank the elite panel that did select us for this award, which some people compare to the Nobel Prize or what you get when you solve math equations that look made up. As part of that panel, I cast my vote secretly, which is what the founding fathers of our nation would expect and honor. While I will never break my sacred bond and reveal my choice for this award, I can say that I voted for the Intergalactic Business Report because it is, as I wrote in my secret remarks, “way better than those other piece-of-shit pieces of crap.” I think that says it all.
Will this prize change the way we deliver you, our readers, information in a way no other publication can? It’s possible. But only if we lose our core values, are bribed by someone with significant money, or offered free penis enhancement surgery (even the kind in Mexico where you’re not really sure if it’s legit and you could wake up with a horse dick they just sewed to your leg).
But until any of that happens, I hope you’ll look forward to our continued coverage of not only the Coronavirus, but all the other stuff too.
All the best,
Dusty Latouffe, Supreme Editor, The Intergalactic Business Report.
Don’t feel bad about your self-quarantines and shelter in place orders. It could be worse. Just check out Mayor Carlos Montalvinho’s town.
YOUR RULES: Stores are closed, except for essential services like groceries and gas.
CARLOS MONTALVINHO’S RULES: Everything’s open and you are required to enter days long “Lambada” contests to prove your loyalty to Carlos. First one to stop dancing is a snitch. Last one standing is considered loyal… Till the next Lambada contest the next day.
YOUR RULES: You need to keep at least six feet of distance between you and others.
CARLOS MONTALVINHO’S RULES: Dig your own grave six feet deep and have it ready in case Carlos decides you’re a snitch.
YOUR RULES: Wash your hands thoroughly for about a minute.
CARLOS MONTALVINHO’S RULES: File the fingerprints off your hands thoroughly for about five hours so that no one can trace you.
YOUR RULES: Don’t breathe or expel saliva around other people.
CARLOS MONTALVINHO’S RULES: Carlos is constantly doing “lineups” where villagers like you need to stand silently as he marches up and down the line and complains about the lack of loyalty and how all of you are probably snitches. He tends to spit a lot when he talks. Probably doesn’t mean to. But he does and it’s a ton of spit.
YOUR RULES: Use “contactless” food delivery.
CARLOS MONTALVINHO’S RULES: Sancho, the village cook, isn’t allowed to use a spoon to stir or serve things anymore because Carlos thinks he may try to murder him with it. But Carlos hasn’t killed him yet because he’s the only cook. So, anyway, you need to eat whatever Sancho stirs and serves you with his hands.
YOUR RULES: Wear a mask to cover your mouth and nose.
CARLOS MONTALVINHO’S RULES: Wear a mask to hide your identity as you are forced to rob banks and grocery stores in neighboring towns.
YOUR RULES: Sanitize surfaces with disinfectant.
CARLOS MONTALVINHO’S RULES: Sanitize dead bodies with lye.
YOUR RULES: You can take walks with your family.
CARLOS MONTALVINHO’S RULES: Your “family” is the other drug mules, assassins, and prostitutes you live and work with. You can take walks with them. Just don’t leave your assigned area of the village, look like you’re stealing anything, or wear clothes where you could hide stuff you’re stealing.
Lockdown. Quarantine. Shelter in Place. Shakedown. Breakdown. You’re busted. As we prepare to hole up in our homes for extended times, Americans must have options for what to do while there. We give them to you. The Best. The Worst. You choose.
BEST: Playing board games with your family.
WORST: Creating a homemade puzzle of a clown’s face out of pudding.
BEST: Face-timing friends and relatives to catch up and make sure they’re all right.
WORST: Trying to contact UFOs without leaving your house by yelling loud enough for them to hear you.
BEST: Binge watch those shows you’ve been meaning to get to.
WORST: Stare at that weird part of your wall till it finally opens up and allows you into a Narnia-type world where you are king.
BEST: Keep a journal where you write about all the things you’re thankful for.
WORST: Finally get back to your “hit list” where you compile all the names of people who’ve wronged you over the years.
BEST: Play chess online to sharpen your mind.
WORST: Play Russian roulette online with real Russians.
BEST: Write that novel, screenplay, poem you always promised yourself you would.
WORST: Complete your manifesto for how you will create of a race of Bigfoots who you will use to destroy the human race (except you).
BEST: Work out. Exercise till you lose some weight and get in great shape.
WORST: Set a goal to leave quarantine with a ten-inch penis and give yourself no room for failure.
BEST: Read a book.
WORST: Finally figure out how to suck your own dick so that you don’t care about the quarantine anymore.
The debate is endless. Who was the greatest fighter ever? Historians and sports enthusiasts will differ, but after an extensive study of fighters from all disciplines and eras, the Intergalactic Business Report has calculated definitively the best and worst fighters of all time.
Our complex algorithm sifted through thousands of data sets and accounted for every variable imaginable. Therefore, we feel strongly that our results are certified and actual. And now, the best and worst fighters of all time…
BEST FIGHTER OF ALL TIME: Mike Tyson.
WORST FIGHTER OF ALL TIME: Your mom fighting urges to have sex with random men.
Prank phone calls. They’re hilarious. But they’re also only as good as the fake name you give the one you’re pranking. Using its exclusive language arts computer algorithm, the Intergalactic Business Report has generated a brand new list of sure to make your next crank call's the best ever. Just say hello and ask for:
The best. The worst. You don't need to decide, because we do for you.