UnNews:911 conspiracies explained by a sandwich
From Uncyclopedia, the content-free encyclopedia
911 conspiracies explained by a sandwich
Straight talk, from straight faces
Friday, October 21, 2016, 21:41:UTC)(
6 April 2011
NEW YORK, New York -- Crowing to the world at a crowded press conference at The Plaza Hotel in New York that he'd finally come up with an easy way to explain the quirks, goof-ups, and lollygagging in the official 911 Commission Report, conspiracy expert James Harvey Witchhunt unveiled a two-and-a-half foot sandwich. Bowing to the assembled reporters and adjusting his microphone, he then whipped out his laser pen.
"All right," began Witchhunt, 35, unemployed, single, closeted, left-handed, and the founder of 911IsYOU!.com, "Look at this. Right here, in the middle, the lettuce. When a plane plows into this lettuce at 500 miles per hour, do you really think it's going to just slow to a stop and explode inside the lettuce? No way. It's going to come out the other side like grease on a skinned chicken, lettuce and liquid condiments flying all over the place, and people are going to taste oil and vinegar as far as twenty miles downstream. So let's all agree that there were no planes. The planes everyone saw and filmed were just holographs, just like this butter knife here. You don't see a butter knife? Exactly!"
"Now that we all know that 911 was an inside job, the only explanation left is that the Twin Towers were brought down by bombs," - Witchhunt pointed his laser at the pickles - "bombs, bombs, and more bombs, which toppled the towers in a series of controlled explosions. And look at Building Seven," said Witchhunt, pointing his laser at a regular peanut butter and jelly sandwich laying on the floor, "It just fell down on its own. All at once. Sticky and gooey and all white bready, nothing wrong with it whatsoever. Someone just pushed it onto the floor and it's not even a sandwich anymore. Now you know."
"Then," Witchhunt continued, "there's the strange fact of all the cars and trucks for a mile around the buildings which mysteriously melted - but only part way and selectively. A truck would melt, but its paint job, or a piece of paper on the window, would be unsinged. The easy answer: Microwaves. See? I've microwaved this sandwich before bringing it out here, yet nothing is harmed, and all the paper on it is unburnt. God created microwaves as a natural phenomena, and if He doesn't mind standing close to the machine, why should we?"
"Next," Withhunt screeched to the 70 reporters at the press conference, "the sandwich is going to explain why the United States Air Force didn't scramble any planes to stop the 911 attacks. You see all those layers of bread? Those are the layers of red-tape I had to cut through to find out that none of the Air Force's planes were fueled that day. They were as capable of flying as my living room couch. Suspicious, yes. Coincidence? I think not. Stars not aligned? Most likely official explanation."
In an aside to a reporter looking at his watch, Witchhunt said that he spends over 20 hours a week combing the neighborhood near the site of the World Trade Center, looking for stuff. "I look for loose bones and pocket change and things. I've never found anything! Don't you find that strange? Where did all the pocket change go?"
Next, pointing to the sesame seed bun, Witchhunt explained to the remaining dozen reporters that the bun represented the strength of the Trade Center's steel-beam-support structure. "You can't burn through a bun, no matter how hot the jet fuel," Witchhunt yelped, "it just won't melt. The cheese may melt, yes. Just think of the cheese as the 911 Commission Report, melting away before your very eyes!"
"And one other thing," Witchhunt explained while looking over his shoulder. "Did you notice that there's plenty of ham and shellfish in the sandwich? This tells you, without any interference by the mainstream media, that the Jews were alerted not to come to work on the morning of 911. Alerted by whom you ask? The Mossad. Check the Mossad's cell phone records - they're available at any public library - and you'll have your answer!"
"I have a question," said CNN's Anderson Cooper, the only thing resembling a journalist left in the room. "If, as we all know, the Pentagon was hit by a missile, and the holographic plane over Pennsylvania was shot down by a rapid-response holographic air-strike just outside Camp David, then the government knew all about the sandwich before it was slapped together. Rumsfeld himself may have actually baked the bread while Cheney cut the lunch meat. So how do you explain George Bush's initial shocked reaction? And can I have some of those onion rings in there? Thanks."
"Think of Bush as a street vendor who sells sandwiches," Witchhunt implored. "He may make them, and hawk them like a halfwit to halfwit passerbys. But he has no idea where the ingredients come from. He gets them from a middleman. So when a fine dining experience suddenly turned on a dime into a case of food poisoning, Bush couldn't move. He just sat in that kindergarten class reading the goat book over and over and over again for close to three hours. Bush knew something was going down, but he didn't have the wattage to either plan the actual attack or to understand the underlying Masonic plot of the goat book."
"In short, the people who made the condiments are all partly to blame! But the real explanation is that it was Colonel Mustard in the kitchen with the candlestick! Come back Anderson! That's the whole point of this press conference! I've proven that Col. Maynard J. Mustard was the brains behind 911. He planned it in his kitchen. And the operation's code name was 'Project Candlestick'. Anderson, come back! I've got video!"
|This article features first-hand journalism by an UnNews correspondent.|
The press conference ended with Witchhunt chasing the CNN crew into the bathroom, where he started foaming just a little and had to be forcibly restrained. Meanwhile, the hotel's kitchen staff sat around eating the giant sandwich, listening not at all as a waiter told them about all the pocket change he'd found on his way to work that morning.