User:Necropaxx/UnNews:Internet memes being used in popular culture

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Sam Spade

"I'm no good at being noble, but it doesn't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday you'll understand that. Now, now... Here's looking at you, kid."

29 April 2009

LOS ANGELES, California -- In the world of investigative journalism, one sees and hears many... unpleasant sorts of things. This reporter is no exception to this phenomenon. In the course of my investigations, I've seen things that would make a dog vomit. I've interviewed people on fire. I've discovered an underground drug & sex slave trade run by my grandmother. I've had to testify as an eyewitness in a rough gay wolf sex court case. In short, I've seen some nasty things. And all I get in exchange for my fortitude is a measly amount of dough, just enough to keep me fed and off of the street, with a little extra for a drink now and then. I keep goin', hoping one day to break the big story that'll put me up for life while doin' a little good to society an' all. I'd been doing the investigative journalism bit for a few years now, and I thought I'd seen it all. Boy, did I have another thing comin'.

I was covering a story, undercover, in a supposedly "quiet" town near Los Angeles on a tip from a stoolie that some seriously bad stuff was going down. He said it might be worth a look. I told him to shove off, and followed the tip. The first place I investigated was the bottom of my shot glass in the local bar. No matter how hard I looked, the only clues I found there were that I wasn't going to be able to investigate any more if I didn't have no more dough. I hopped off the bar stool (I regretted that) and after a while found the exit.

My hard-nosed reporter's intuition told me I'd find the "bad stuff goin' down" described to me by the stool pigeon in the place where it usually starts: school. The place is a festering pit of moral decay, infecting countless lives day after day. Having been given a youthful face (which is how I earned my moniker, "Babyface." I killed the guy who said it, too, but that's another story.), I found it smooth as silk to infiltrate the institution. I chose a class at random and took a seat, totally inconspicuous. The other students filed in, talking about their petty lives with petty people in 'em, while I just kept cool. So far, I had failed to see the so-called "bad stuff" that idiot informant was talking about. What happened next rocked me to the core.

I was sitting in the second row, listening low-key-like to a conversation in the row above mine between a dame and some schmo. So far, nothing good was turning up. Then, paydirt. To this day, I still shudder when I think of it. The conversation had hit a lull when the dame opens up outta nowhere and says:

Hey, did you know that Chuck Norris can go back after being black?

I tell you, nothing in all my life could have prepared me for such blasphemy. But then it got worse. Much worse. 'Cause right after that the guy laughs and says:


Da scene of da crime.

Naw, I got a better one. Chuck Norris once roundhouse-kicked a cow, thus inventing beef jerky.

I was, quite frankly, in shock. I guess I musta been pretty shook up, 'cause the man noticed my slackjawed expression.

"Dude, are you OK?"

"D-do youse guys know what you've just done?" I managed to stammer.

"Uh, made a joke...?"

I just about exploded. "You idiots! I've never heard such disgusting, loathsome, blasphemous use of an in-joke in all my life! Do you even realize what you've done?!"

"Dude, what are you smoking?[1] and why are you talking like that?"

"Chuck Norris is sacred! No average Joe can use his name! Chuck Norris is reserved for use by losers who want to sound cool by confusing people!"

"Dude, what are you on?"


"Dude, what are you on!?"


"Why aren't you answering me?"

"Because Necropaxx hasn't given me anymore lines."


"I know, and he started this UnNews 16:13, 20 April 2009."

"Let's complain to Necropaxx so he finishes this UnNews!"

"OK. After I finish smoking my weed."

  1. Hook me up, bro!
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