All the News That's Fit to Print

Beryl and Ethyl chuckled over the evening news. A calf two counties over had been born with a third eye. "They ain't seen nothin' yet," remarked Ethyl as she scooped up the nearest kitten and headed into the house.

The Creepiest Christmas Ever

The eight gathered every year at the little villa on the outskirts of the Aventine. They were robber barons, spies, art thieves, and deposed dictators. Together, they feasted on oysters, quail, sweetbreads, and tangerines while bitterly recounting tales of foiled schemes and dastardly deeds. The evening always ended with a drunken rendition of “Auld Lang Syne,” a group photo ‘round “der Weihnachtsbaum,” and an attempted murder. (Arsenic was a particularly popular method). Mr. Kempner (bottom left) was this year’s chosen victim. Seconds after this photograph was taken the doll exploded (a “gift” from Frau Liselotte, center). Laughing years later over the memory of such homicidal hijinks (at least we think it was laughter; it was hard to tell due to his now necessary prosthetic jaw), Kempner fondly recalled, “Oh, I’d been slowing killing them all for years via the tainted tangerines.”*

*Actual notes written on the back of the photograph: “Weihnachten, 1902. Roma, in Casa Keinjour. Mr. Kempner – art dealer who supplied Uncle Guido. Also sent box of tangerines to Liselotte every Xmas.” You just can’t make this stuff up.