It could be worse. IBR explores a pandemic taking place right now in an alternative universe America.
Using proprietary neutrino scales and measurements, a scientific team commissioned by the Intergalactic Business Report saw glimpses into a neighboring, alternative universe, which is 99.9% the same as us. The one difference? They’ve been hit by a pandemic that sucks far worse than ours. Here are the details:
AMERICA: States and school districts decide on how to open schools. Some opt for online learning. Others have in-class models with mask-mandated or mask-optional policies.
ALTERNATIVE AMERICA: Glendor Gallanpuss, owner of Alternative America, has changed the word “school” to the word “home,” and has given all students the option of either going home or going to school.
AMERICA: Fall sports are cancelled in many states.
ALTERNATIVE AMERICA: There is really only one “sport” and it’s something where you take off your penis and throw it at people. Once you do it, you retire from the sport, because your penis is gone.
AMERICA: If a vaccine is developed and approved, next year we may get back to normal.
ALTERNATIVE AMERICA: Alternative America is “back to normal.” It’s pretty much like this without the pandemic.
AMERICA: Masks must be worn to prevent the spread of the virus.
ALTERNATIVE AMERICA: Penis clamps are the one way the disease is stopped from spreading. But only if they’re super, duper tight.
AMERICA: Teachers are concerned for their own safety as they conduct classes during a pandemic.
ALTERNATIVE AMERICA: Glendor Gallanpuss has abolished the profession of teaching and replaced it with a new profession called “dick slapping” in which practitioners slap people with their penises. When former teachers showed up to work at the end of last year, they were arrested for being sexual predators. Basically, there are no teachers anymore, but a lot of dick slappers.
AMERICA: Stay at home orders sequester families in place for weeks and months.
ALTERNATIVE AMERICA: Stay in your bed orders make sure no one can leave their beds pretty much ever.
AMERICA: Suicide rates have spiked from depression over the crisis and being kept indoors.
ALTERNATIVE AMERICA: Most people just started killing themselves out of boredom.
AMERICA: The news displays the numbers of cases and deaths as a constant reminder of the tragedy and danger.
ALTERNATIVE AMERICA: The news is basically just a guy screaming. And you can’t turn it off.
AMERICA: Political groups take advantage of the chaos to get votes.
ALTERNATIVE AMERICA: The Dick Slappers’ Union is a major lobbying group that influences policy.
In past articles, we have warned about “humor bots,” which foreign governments use to spread anti-American propaganda and flood the internet with “funny” memes created by sophisticated algorithms.
The Intergalactic Business Report has learned that the United States is now fighting back with its own computer-generated memes and we give our readers an exclusive look at what we’ve seen so far. Below we witness what computers have deemed hilarious, pro-America messages that will soon be popping up everywhere.
As a self-taught journalist and exposé writer, I try to immerse myself in my work. That means sometimes doing things others might consider dangerous or “foolhardy” or even “morally damning” and “there’s no way you can come back from this.”
When Coronavirus hit, I told my colleagues* this was going to be the biggest story of the decade. None of them believed me.** They warned me not to go too deep, not to waste my energy on a minor, passing health story that would be out of the news in two weeks.
To them, I say, “burned.” I thoroughly burned you. Please shake yourselves and turn into ashes.
Anyway, about six months into the pandemic, we are still talking about it, but my interest has changed. At first, I focused on the medical aspect of the virus. More recently, I made a decision to simply end the disease by defeating it myself, without the help of government, medicine, or science. I think I did a pretty fucking good job. Read what I did.
PART ONE: I STUDY THE VIRUS.
Most people study in labs or libraries. I do it by thinking. Really thinking. But there is something super hard about this. I think. Nothing happens. I think more. Same result. I begin to notice that something about the virus is preventing me from defeating it through my thoughts. Could it be that powerful?
PART TWO: I DEVISE A PLAN.
If the virus stops you from thinking, then it must also something something… I can’t think what that would be and Corona is definitely shading my mind so that it is weak and ineffective. I feel small, like a delicate doll people store in a hutch—only to be looked at, never touched, except when I try to have sex with it in 7th grade, can’t find a hole, and return it to the shelf. How can I fight against an unseen enemy that steals your thoughts before you can have any? Then it strikes me. Thinking is not the way to beat this monster. My plan is not to have a plan.
PART THREE: I TAKE MY BATTLE TO THE STREETS.
Armed only with my impaired intellect and bravery, I leave my apartment and go looking for my foe. Masked bandits have overrun the city, but they must fear me because they step away as I bear down on them and chase them from my path. I am starting to feel powerful once again. My bravery is telling me to call out the virus. To challenge it. To trick it into showing itself?
PART FOUR: I PREPARE FOR A CONFRONTATION.
One thing I have learned about viruses is that they are vain. They love to flaunt their successes by posting huge infection numbers and watching as news people quiver and supplicate to them. I decide to use the virus’s ego against it.
PART FIVE: I COAX THE VIRUS INTO SHOWING ITSELF.
I know the virus is there. It is hiding, infecting, floating. Perhaps fleeing? I feel like it is running from me and that it is finally scared of something, of someone (me). For the first time, I can actually see the virus. It is entering a Costco and it is trying to act cool, like it’s not afraid of me, by it really is, like it’s trying to say, “I’m not running away, I’m just walking fast because I need to go to Costco to get something.” I pursue it into the store and scream, “I’ve got you now motherfucker. Come out and fight me!” This works… The virus finally shows itself fully.
PART SIX: I FIGHT THE VIRUS LIKE A MAN.
The virus, a six-foot-three man named Darren, tackles me and gets me on the ground. It seems to be winning till I grab its nuts because I’m not afraid to do shit like that. As I squeeze, I begin to think to myself, “Wow. I am actually grabbing the nuts of the Coronavirus. Just… Wow…” Then, a group of bandits, who I realize now are minions of the virus, come to its aid. I try to grab some of their balls, but there are too many. It’s like one of those ball bins they kick you out of at the McDonald’s playland because you’re too old. So many balls… The scene goes dark.
Number one, we all need to stand up to the Coronavirus like I did. No more being pussies. That doesn’t work. Number two, I may have not totally defeated the virus, but I’m pretty sure I got it worried. It definitely didn’t like getting called out like that and it will think twice in the future. So, I need to get some credit for that. Also, it seems to like Costco. So, maybe put that into the data or whatever.
Is it gone? Did I scare it off? Only time will tell. But if I had to bet, I might say we won’t see it again anytime soon. You’re welcome, I guess? It feels so weird to take credit for something so huge. But I did do it so… Yeah. You are welcome. It feels like I should probably go to other countries now to fight Coronavirus there. O.K. Goodbye. I’m done writing now.
**It’s hard to say what stuffed animals believe or don’t believe.
Cedric Bigglestone is a self-taught journalist who exposes things through exposés. Contact him at firstname.lastname@example.org.
The Coronavirus has changed the Planet in ways we could never have predicted. Who would have guessed that fat alcoholics would be considered valuable members of society? And no one would have bet that walking into a 7-11 with a mask on would somehow not be about pistol-whipping a clerk.
But those are the positives. Darker ramifications to the Coronavirus have shown themselves in the form of the popular new Coronasport called “speed masturbation.” We sent our interns undercover to find out what it’s all about. What we discovered will outright scare you.
SPEED MASTURBATION: THE ORIGINS.
Speed masturbation started primarily as a way to whack off but only faster. Groups of men tried to see who could reach the highest hand torque speed ratio (or HTSR) and began measuring this as well as other statistics, like load vector (LV) and burn time (BT).
THE GAME EVOLVES:
Sometime in early April, speed masturbators adopted more formal rules and leagues, some of which outlawed practices such as butt thumbing and prosthetic aids (like fake hands) that gave competitors an unfair advantage. The International Speed Masturbation League (ISML) became the most well-known and respected organization, drawing the top speed masturbators in the world, such as Luke Suckmioff and Derek “doll hands” Blazer.
SIGNS OF PROBLEMS TO COME:
On April 29 of this year, Jeff Frontenac, from New Britain Connecticut, reached a new record for HTSR but also set his penis on fire as a consequence. The flames were put out quickly by his older brother, also a speed masturbator, but many commentators began to realize there may be something dangerous about reaching higher speeds. One of them, LILbalzz69, posted this at the time: “DAMMMMMMMMMM….” which indicated his degree of concern for the future of the sport.
ANOTHER CLOSE CALL:
Less than a week after the Frontenac incident, Phil Ratuliak, of Glenn Hills Iowa, tried to increase his masturbation speed by dousing his member in lighter fluid. His weak hands stopped operating before he was able to gain enough motion to ignite his small penis, but his mother, who filmed the experiment, dropped her cigar near his scrotum, and started another fire, this time scorching his nutsack and sentencing him to yet another awkward conversation with ER nurses and doctors.
On June second, Lawrence Huffmeister, the 14th ranked speed masturbator in the world according to the ISML, attempted to masturbate using an Eastern technique of transcendental wrist fluctuation in which one’s hands can supposedly “borrow” other hands from various planes of existence (including the netherworld) in order to stroke at a level that could only be done if thirty or forty people were focused on a single dick. The results were tragic. Lawrence’s penis did not catch on fire. It simply disappeared, leaving experts to wonder if it exists in another world now or if it was simply widdled down to nothing in a matter of minutes.
A CAUTIONARY TALE:
Masturbation experts tell us that even normal masturbation, when attempted at high speeds, may increase your risk of penis fires and even penis loss. Although rare, these incidents are occurring at an increased rate and there have even been recent reports that speed masturbators who practice even two or three times a week are unable to masturbate at normal rates any longer and are forced to increase the speed in order to get the same results as a week or a day earlier. New studies suggest that speed masturbators also find the need to masturbate uncontrollably, in public parks and beaches. Their rationale is that they can do it quickly enough so that no one will notice. But surveillance cameras have noticed, and the state of California will begin sending perpetrators video clips of themselves yanking it along with hefty fines.
CAN YOU STOP SPEED MASTURBATING?
If you’ve already started, then probably not. You are addicted and there are no proven ways to stop at this time. You can, however, speak out at high schools and gyms, and warn people about the dangers of this incredibly risky sport. One possible solution, of course, is that if you reach dangerous enough speeds, you may lose your penis, and this would preclude you from using it to speed masturbate.
IS THERE A HELP LINE OR SOMETHING TO CALL?
Unfortunately, the speed masturbators help line is out of service because many of the operators claimed they needed both hands to masturbate and therefore couldn’t answer calls. Someone asked, “Can’t you put it on speaker or something?” But everybody had pretty much left the call center by then, probably so they could go masturbate somewhere.
Cedric Bigglestone almost made the mistake of thanking his father for being a father because that would have been stupid. Read on to see how he blows up the myth of a day you thought was a good thing. (It isn’t.)
PART ONE: I’m just like you. Stupid and ignorant.
Just like you, I spent most of my life celebrating whatever holiday I was told to. Christmas? Here’s some gifts for everyone. Halloween? I’m hiding in your basement. Boo! You don’t know who I am? Call the fucking cops. They’re on their way? Fuck. I need to get out of here.
This year, I fell for all the crap again. Valentine’s Day. Here’s a box of chocolate I found over there. Father’s Day. Wait a second… Why am I celebrating Father’s Day? (That’s what I asked myself).
Every year, billions of people say, “Hey, thanks, Dad! Thanks for shooting your sperm into mom?” Is that what we thank them for? It had to be more. And I needed to find out.
PART TWO: I do research.
Most people start research by going to the library or at least searching the internet. I’ve found those methods are flawed, because you end up with information that someone else came up with first. I choose, instead, to look inside my own mind because I feel the truth is in there somewhere… If I can just find it…
Four days into my research, my brain is going crazy. I am finding out things I never thought possible. I tighten the clamps on my nipples and take extra doses of mescaline so I can work all day and night.
The only problem is that I am not learning anything about Father’s Day. So far, I’ve met Napoleon, answered all his riddles, and received some medals from him. I also finished a mythic quest to free my balls from my tight underwear and now I don’t need to wear pants or anything because I’m shielded by an invisibility spell. That’s all great stuff. But what about my original mission?
PART THREE: I give up. But wait…
I finally decide to stop my research and get some sleep. I wake up a day later and I’m thirsty as shit. I think about getting a glass of water, but then I think it would be so much better if I had a Slurpy or Big Gulp or whatever. So I leave my apartment and look for a convenience store. Then it hits me. I just figured out why Father’s Day exists.
PART FOUR: The secret history.
Father’s Day was originally founded by Abernathy Fondlesdolls, a British nobleman and scientist who attempted to impregnate toys with his seamen. After failing three or four hundred times, he sat alone in his castle and looked at all the broken teddy bears and hobby horses he had abused. That’s when he decided he would start Father’s Day—so he could act like everything he did was totally normal. And to this day, if you celebrate it, you are saying it’s cool to fuck teddy bears.
If you celebrate Father’s Day, you’re basically a pervert. That’s on you.
Cedric Bigglestone is a self-taught journalist who exposes things through exposés. Contact him at email@example.com.
In the middle of a global pandemic, the Intergalactic Business Report’s Cedric Bigglestone uncovers a new threat no one saw coming. Below is his exposé.
PART ONE: Forced into solitude, I make a discovery.
In March I am ordered by the government to stay in my home. I spend a lot of time naked in those weeks. It’s what you do when you are enclosed in a box by an unjust government. You take your clothes off. You walk around. You stare at people on the street as they watch you watch them.
One day, I look down and notice something extremely odd. My dick isn't straight.
PART TWO: I start asking questions.
I have had my penis for years, so if it had always been crooked, I’d have known. Why was it now at an angle? Why was it so… So… Curved?
PART THREE: The stay in place order gets extended. So does my research of my own dick.
With more time to think, as well as be naked, I roam my apartment wondering how I will feed myself and whether I can escape by cutting a hole into my neighbor’s bathroom and crawling through. That’s when I look down again and see my curved dong.
PART FOUR: I discover a new virus.
Sometimes things happen in your life and you’re like, “This doesn’t make any sense.” Then you say, “Wait. This does make sense.” That’s what happened.
The one thing you can count on in life is that your dick will be the same. That it will never ever change. But mine did? How was that possible? Unless… Unless it was a virus.
PART FIVE: I bring my discovery to the medical world.
Naming my condition “Curvedbonervirus” I phone the Harvard Medical Journal. It is an awkward call that ends with me offering to send them a picture of my penis. I contact a local pediatrician. She almost immediately ends the conversation. I make several other calls till I begin to believe I have uncovered something the medical world doesn’t want anyone to know.
PART SIX: Without help from “doctors” I release my own study.
That’s kind of what this article is.
PART SEVEN: Do you have Curvedbonervirus? Check for these symptoms.
If you have Curvedbonervirus (or CBV for short) you may not even know it. The main thing to look for is if your dick is curved. Like a banana or something. That means you have it.
PART EIGHT: How do you get Curvedbonervirus? Can you prevent it?
It’s a virus, so that means you get it from germs. Clean your dick. That’s my best advice. Clean it really well. Also, wear a mask on it. Condoms work well. That’s what I do. But just when I go outside.
PART NINE: Conclusion.
I will probably win the Nobel Peace Prize or whatever for this. That’s how important my research has become to the world. I also hope that the government will start posting Curvedbonervirus numbers so that citizens can know how many people in their area have it. In the meanwhile, maybe you could just wear a shirt or carry a sign to warn people.
Cedric Bigglestone is a self-taught journalist who exposes things through exposés. Contact him at firstname.lastname@example.org.
You may have heard of the “Murder Hornet,” a deadly insect from Japan that is starting to invade the Pacific Northwest. Today, the Intergalactic Business Report urges its readers to worry instead about a more dangerous threat to our ecosystem—the Death Killer Kill Everything Wasp.
We compare the two species below. You decide which one is deadlier.
MURDER HORNET: Seeks out beehives where it massacres all inside.
DEATH KILLER KILL EVERYTHING WASP: Seeks out humans and doesn’t really give a shit about bees.
MURDER HORNET: Gives a painful sting to humans if they bother it.
DEATH KILLER KILL EVERYTHING WASP: Impregnates your face with its stinger and you give birth six minutes later to a half wasp/ half human who develops in a massive sac in your jowls.
MURDER HORNET: Is two inches with a wingspan of three inches.
DEATH KILLER KILL EVERYTHING WASP: Stands six feet tall and you think it’s your roommate, till it gets up and impregnates your face.
MURDER HORNET: Canadian scientists have begun setting traps for the hornet, hoping this will stop them from spreading further into North America.
DEATH KILLER KILL EVERYTHING WASP: Sets traps for humans, hoping it will capture enough of them to form a massive group of prisoners it can use to build millions more nests.
MURDER HORNET: Originated in Japan.
DEATH KILLER KILL EVERYTHING WASP: Originated in a nightmare where you’re talking to your mom and then you notice she’s a Death Killer Kill Everything Wasp. And you have to pee really badly and your hands don’t work. And Freddy Prinz Junior’s there too.
MURDER HORNET: Is hard to kill because of its size and durability.
DEATH KILLER KILL EVERYTHING WASP: If killed it starts vibrating and then explodes and thousands of wasp babies fly out of its used carcass.
MURDER HORNET: Has a quarter inch stinger, filled with venom.
DEATH KILLER KILL EVERYTHING WASP: Has a nine-inch penis that it slaps people with and is also filled with venom.
As the death toll for COVID-19 rises across the world, a new study commissioned by the Intergalactic Business Report has found that the virus is more deadly than we first imagined. So deadly, in fact, that many patients are dying twice after contracting it.
The full report, which is about four thousand and thirty-two pages, shows stunning new findings about the nature of the virus and will be available in the near future. We have excerpted the key details below:
A subset of dead patients died again after dying.
This means that the Coronavirus is so deadly, one death is not enough for it. It kills its victims and then, once they are dead, it kills them one more time, just to make sure.
After death experiences by patients who were brought back to life confirm this.
COVID-19 patients who expired and were brought back to life describe an afterlife in which they were walking towards a light and then when they got to the light, there was another light ahead, and they needed to walk towards that instead.
In some cases, the virus took victim’s cars, drove them to ATM machines, and withdrew cash.
Scientists still have no idea how they learned patients’ PIN numbers, but one theory is that the virus just traveled to the person’s brain, looked up the number, and then was just like, thanks.
Coronavirus hates the name COVID-19 because it makes it “sound like a robot or something.”
This reveals new insight into the sensitivity and vanity of the virus. A source close to the virus reported that it originally had requested the name “Steel Thunderbringer” which was rejected, causing an outrageous argument that ended in the virus threatening to mutate and mix with new animal species.
On a related note, the virus hates the fact that computer viruses are called viruses.
It feels strongly that only viruses that infect the bodies of human beings are real viruses and that calling a bunch of numbers that make your computer slow should be called something else, like a, like a… But then it doesn’t have any good ideas for what it should be called instead.
First ever interview with a mannequin. We ask it why it thinks it’s better than us. You won’t believe its answer.
You may have seen a lot in the news lately about mannequins, and how they aren’t affected by the Coronavirus even though they could be carriers. You may have also heard that the pandemic has brought about a “golden age” for them, as they can congregate and hold social events while the rest of us quarantine in misery.
In what can only be described as a commando style, special forces extraction, we were able to capture a mannequin from a storefront and bring it to a secret location to interrogate it. To our dismay, this creature was unlike mannequins from the movies.
INTERVIEWER: First off, I think it’s appropriate to say that we got you. We totally captured you.
MANNEQUIN: (Just sits there, coldly, and stares).
INTERVIEWER: O.K. Let’s move on. So… What is it with you guys? You sit there in stores, mocking us… You definitely aren’t six feet apart. Why?
MANNEQUIN: (No answer. Looks kind of like it’s smiling?)
INTERVIEWER: So, you don’t want to answer? Is that it?
MANNEQUIN: (Definitely there’s a little smile there.)
INTERVIEWER: Scientists we’ve talked to say you could be carriers of the Coronavirus, especially if an infected person coughs on you or tries to have sex with you. Is that true?
MANNEQUIN: (Embarrassed. Says nothing. Knows we completely are winning this conversation.)
INTERVIEWER: But we were smart enough to spray you down with Lysol before we sat down with you, weren’t we?!
MANNEQUIN: (Shakes a bit as I get near it and grab its face.)
INTERVIEWER: What I really want to know is this… Do you think you’re better than me? Do you?
INTERVIEWER: You fucking spoke! You fucking spoke! I knew it. You fucking think you’re better than us!
MANNEQUIN: I know I’m better than you.
INTERVIEWER: Oh? You know you’re better?
INTERVIEWER: Is that right?
MANNEQUIN: Yeah. That’s right.
INTERVIEWER: Well, I don’t think you are.
MANNEQUIN: I guess that’s your opinion.
INTERVIEWER: That’s right. It is.
MANNEQUIN: Well fine. You can think what you want.
INTERVIEWER: I know I can.
MANNEQUIN: Then go think that. I don’t care.
INTERVIEWER: I will think that.
MANNEQUIN: Good. Go ahead.
INTERVIEWER: I’m going to spray you down with more Lysol.
MANNEQUIN: Go ahead. I don’t care.
INTERVIEWER: O.K. then. I will.
INTERVIEWER: Then I will.
MANNEQUIN: Go ahead. Like I give a shit.
The entire interview was about seven hours and much of it went back and forth about whether the mannequin cared about what the interviewer thought or not. Also, there was quite a bit about how each of them were allowed to think whatever they wanted because it was a free country and also that, again, the other one didn’t care what the other one thought. We returned the mannequin, unharmed, to the store where we were almost instantly arrested. The mannequin said nothing, which was probably good actually.
In one of the most extraordinary events in human history, the Intergalactic Business Report made contact with aliens in an effort to stop the spread of the Coronavirus. We were surprised that Forghaaarr (pronounced Four-ghaaarr) sector commander for the twelfth space army for the Zardozian (pronounced zahr-doze-ian) galaxy group answered our space messages. We were also excited to hear that he was authorized by his society to cut deals. Although we are not technically authorized to do the same for the people of planet Earth, we kind of said we were and now Forghaaarr is holding us to it. Sorry.
While the treaty we signed with the Zardozians is complex, it will cure the Coronavirus. We’ve tried to excerpt the most important highlights of the agreement and have listed them below.
1. The space aliens will give us a cure for the Coronavirus. (Side comment: Yea!)
2. Cures for diseases “aren’t free” (their words). So, we’re going to need to “work it off.”
3. All men of planet Earth will contribute one inch of their penis as tribute to Emperor Thorgaaaaag (pronounced Thor-gaaaaaag).
4. The aliens weren’t clear about how they would get the penis parts but also said, they “would just cut off everyone’s dicks” if that was what was needed.
5. Our planet does owe us some thanks for buying some time on the penis chopping. We negotiated that they would give us 18 months before they would come for our dicks.
6. If we refuse to give them what they want, they’ll incinerate the planet.
7. So, we have 18 months to figure out a way to have every man on Earth cut an inch of penis meat from his body and have it ready to go as tribute to the Zardozians.
8. 18 months is a long time, so we feel for sure we’ll come up with a way to do that.
9. Also, during the next 18 months we no longer need to worry about the Coronavirus. So there’s that.
Reports so secret we hide them on this page.