Bizarro Insiders: Security Officer Pens True Account of Benghazi Incident

"Morgan Jones" is the pseudonym being used by a security officer and American contractor that witnessed the Benghazi attack for-real-real, and not for-play-play. Below, in his own words, is a brief account of what happened that day.
It all started in a bar, where I was drinking "Jimmy Beefslab", the most badass mercenary in the business, right under the goddamn table. He might have been fluent in the ancient language of Shit-Talk, but he handles his whiskey like a man whose liver's made of paper mache'.

The first shot cuts through the air, and I'm as sober as the pope.

"Some shit's finally going down, boys," I says.

And they're like, "Aw shit, down at the embassy? You need some backup?"

"Yeah," I say. "I'll need you to guard that bottle of whiskey until I'm finished kicking ass."

Next think I know, I'm jumping over the motherfucking wall of the American embassy, and it's like an Al Qaeda family reunion. All of the biggest, most hardass insurgents in North Africa were staring me down. So I figure, it's time to get this party started. And what'a a party without a pinata? Only nobody had the decency to bring one, so I had to use this insurgent's head and the butt of my rifle. And that's all it took to light a fire under his buddy's asses.

It was pure Matrix shit in there, the way I dodged those rounds. I was moving so quickly, I couldn't even shoulder my rifle. If I was going to survive this shitstorm, my black belt martial arts would have to do. My body flowed from evasive maneuvers directly into roundhouse kicks and haymakers. Even if those bastards had dental records, they'd be useless for identifying the bodies when I got done with them.

These terrorists were real pros. I could tell because they waited for me to leave before making their play. And because they decided to stop being retards just this once, there were American causalities. Goddamnit, I'm only one man with the strength of three. Obama knew that, but he neglected to teleport operatives in to keep things warm until I showed up. Yeah, I said "teleport." We can do that. How do you think Obama gets his crisis actors from place to place so quickly?

Anyway, I take a few minutes to scream at the sky while kneeling over the employees who fell victim to these scumbags before those scumbags had a chance to fall victim to my knuckles. But there was no time to mourn. I learned that Stevens had been transported by civvies to a local doc-shop to see if something could be done. Nothing could. Not until I was there, anyway.

Using the rooftops to bypass the roadblocks, I finally arrived in the overtaxed medical center where I shoved the bewildered doctors aside and performed High-Efficiency CPR for well over an hour. Alas, though my hands are instruments of death, they failed to return a life on that terrible day.

As I stood in that crowded trauma ward, I lit a cigarette, took a long drag, and put it out on my bicep. Now was not the time for tears, however manly those tears would have been. Now was the time for retribution.

A lot of people have made noise about me telling my employer that I was in my villa during the entire incident, and that I couldn't even get close to the compound after I hit the road blocks and decided to give up and go home. But you've gotten a taste of the truth today, my fellow Patriot. And if you want the whole truth, you'll do your civic duty and grasp it firmly in your hands. You may grasp it firmly at any store where fine books are sold for $29.99.

The Hidden War on Freaks and Geeks

Bizarro Post Preventative Measures Bureau- President Obama and top Pentagon officials have announced an ambitious plan to stop spontaneous acts of violence from America's most troubled young men.

In a rare glimpse into the inner-workings of the Obama Administration's shadowy war machine, it has been revealed that nerds and outcasts are being classified according to threat levels.

Green Threat: Individual is nerdy and generally repellent. However, this person has a circle of friends (sympathetic preps, Bronies, Furries, miscellaneous nerd conclaves) and could potentially rectify his status entirely with lifestyle and hygiene adjustments. Low risk.

Yellow Threat: Individual is nerdy and repellent in a way that cannot be easily rectified, if it can be treated at all. If this person does participate in any group activities, he does not actively contribute anything beyond his presence and/or financial support. Individual is a devotee of 4chan, and makes frequent references to "becoming an hero." Moderate threat.

Red Threat: Individual is either deformed, disfigured, or has a mental or physical impairment that makes them undesirable. They have selfishly taken society's rejection of them to heart, and have thoughtlessly allowed themselves to slide into a constant state of psychological chaos. High threat.

While the classification list has been openly offered to the public, Wikileaks documents suggest that simply listing potential threats isn't the extent of the covert program. There are references to assaults by special forces operatives on "giant nerds", which ultimately resulted in a number of extra-judicial deaths. Half-assed attempts to cover the incidents up were apparently insufficient to hide the true nature of these events. Fortunately, as the Pentagon anticipated, nobody cares. The public has taken a similar stance on attacks that apparently targeted a number of rural families by mistake. Photos taken by hidden bystanders revealed an Admiral overseeing the sacrifice of a goat on the properties of one of these mistaken raids to appease the locals. The White House continues to deny that these documents are valid.

"In this age of modern warfare, we have to be as transparent as possible to our allies to maintain a reputation that is conducive to civility and joint operations," said President Obama, addressing an assembly of West Point cadets. "The rule of law is paramount. Ha! Just fuckin' with ya'! We basically do whatever we want, because nobody is strong enough to hold us accountable! Suck it, chumps!"

With Americans obsessed with a struggling healthcare website and baseball beards, it is anticipated that they will continue to suck it for the conceivable future.

Feds Bust Colorful Hidden Market

Bizarro Post Justice Bureau- Through the joint efforts of the FBI, IRS, and CIA a major hub of criminal activity has been shut down. Devotees knew it as The Yellow Brick Road.

"This was a highly sophisticated operation, hidden well over the rainbow. Our bust today is the culmination of several years of surveillance," an FBI spokeswoman said during a press briefing.

According to the investigative records obtained by the Bizarro Post, The Yellow Brick Road contained unregulated food manufacturing by the Lollipop Guild cartel, black market organs such as hearts and brains, and prohibited genetic alteration experiments intended to create flying monkeys and sentient trees. There were even counterfeit medals of valor freely available to any coward who wished to boast about exemplary military service that never even took place.

"The guy behind this hid behind this big, intimidating avatar," said Chief Investigator Nelson Chandler. "Turns out it was the grizzled old man. It's always the same with these criminal types."

Yellow Road users accessed the black market via tornadoes, and departed with their goods by chanting until they awaken in their beds with the illicit items.

Among the most stunning seizures is an impounded hot air balloon and a pair of ruby encrusted slippers, which could very well be worth several million dollars provided the gems are authentic.

To Catch a Temple Guard: With Chris Hairson

Bizarro Post Dubiously Legal Investigative Report Bureau- It's been exactly 20 years since the world was introduced to Temple Guards on Nickelodeon's Legends of the Hidden Temple. A recent poll indicates that 94% of Americans believe that after the show's final episode, Temple Guards ceased to be a threat to America's children.

94% of Americans are dumb and wrong, with a 0.0% margin or error.

The Temple Guards are still out there, lurking in the dark while stalking young adventurers. Each year their numbers grow, and so too does the body count. Tonight we take the fight to the Temple Guards in our Bizarro Post Dubiously Legal Special Report:

To Catch a Temple Guard: With Brisk Hairson

To learn more about our prey, we talked to Olmec, an ancient face of stone infused with the power of limitless trivial knowledge.

Hairson: Olmec, you've had three seasons worth of experience with these dangerous predators. What struck you the most about their behavior and tactics?

Olmec: Hmmmmmm....they did not rock. To calm them, they were given injections of horse tranquilizers to keep them stoned. But once the show ended, they were released into the wild, where they became much boulder.

Hairson: Olmec, how would we go about catching the elusive Temple Guards?

Olmec: You can start by visiting the Chatroom of Tween Adventurers! Assemble your profile, and you may descend into the underworld of the hidden Temple Guard. Use your Pendant of Life to subdue him, and then deploy the Handcuffs of Restraint. From there, you must take your Temple Guard to the Cell of Holding. Complete this journey within 2 minutes, and the grand prize is yours!

Hairson: Olmec, two weeks is just a fraction of our total production schedule. It's going to take that long for post-production alone. What is the grand prize, anyway?

Olmec: A Sony boombox, with cassette player and high-speed dubbing. Also, a $500 gift card to KB Toys and Circuit City!

With our newly acquired knowledge, the Bizarro Post team went to work on our quest. While our crack team of unpaid interns played Temple Games for our Token of Life, I paid a visit to the devoted volunteers at Perverted Archaeology. P-ARC director Sandy Stone was eager to begin.

"We've had a lot of experience enticing Temple Guards, but that was just to show the world that they were a real threat to the welfare of children everywhere," Stone explained. "I hope Bizarro Post's contacts in the Orlando Police Department can actually hold these monsters accountable."

And that's just what we planned to do. With the assistance of Perverted Archaeology communications specialist Nigel Crumplebottom, we entered the dangerous digital world of the Teen Tombraider Online chat room. The response was immediate. Posing as "SilverMonkey12", we caught the attention of Temple Guard "GrabnGoBoi".

(PRIVATE CHAT MODE ENGAGED)
SilverMonkey12: hay, how are u?

GrabnGoBoi: not much. just lookin for the wings of icarus. u?

SilverMonkey12: lol you better hurry, i mite beat you to it :-)

GrabnGoBoi: mayb lol! tell me about urself.

SilverMonkey12: im 12, i like to search of ancient treasure, and i live in orlando.

GrabnGoBoi: awesum! i'm in orlando too! we should get the icarus wings togthr!

SilverMonkey12: cool!

GrabnGoBoi: what you wearing?

SilverMonkey12: a yellow helmet, some fingerless gloves, and a mouthpiece. i got a blue barricudas shirt too.

GrabnGoBoi: whoa! i'm a blue barricuda 2! we should totally adventure together

Sicko that he was, this ruthless Temple Guard didn't stop asking until he finally pried the address from our investigator. Little did he know, he was heading right for a poison dart trap of justice. With the assistance of the Orlando Police, we set up a sting operation at a ruined temple in Orlando and waited for our predator to arrive. Our bait is actually 18 years old, and has a Pendant of Life to protect herself should anything go wrong. The safety of our staff and associates, as well as the suspect, has been carefully considered.

At our agreed upon time, the Temple Guard sprang from the nearby woods in all of his racially insensitive glory. Without hesitation, he made for the entryway of our trap temple. "GrabnGoBoi" is actually Oog, a veteran Temple Guard who has been known to hide in the Tomb of the Ancient Kings; no doubt doing unspeakable things to the bodies therein.

Oog: Hey little adventurer? Still don't have a Token of Life? I've got one right here that you can borrow!

Decoy: Just a minute! I'll be right out once I finish rinsing out my mouthpiece!

Oog: Okay! I shall wait in this entryway and partake of these cookies.

It was time to spring the trap.

Hairson: I'm Chris Hairson from The Bizarro Post, and you're on To Catch a Temple Guard. Why don't you have a sea--

Oog lunged at me, prepared to grasp my shoulders and pull me into the darkness. But I was ready. With a flourish, I brandished my hard-won (we lost three interns) Token of Life!

Oog: Give! You give!

Hairson: I will. But only if you sit down.

Oog: Whatever man say! Want Token!

As Olmec prophesied, the Token of Life soothed the creature. He sat in an ancient temple chair, smoothing his grass skirt for modesty.

Hairson: Oog, you're here to meet a 12-year-old adventurer here, aren't you?

Oog: Oog not know.

Hairson: I have the chatlogs right here, and they're pretty disturbing. Just make this easier for yourself and be honest.

Oog: Oog....just want to warn adventurer not to talk to stranger on internet when they not have Token of Life.

Hairson: So you just wanted to warn the adventurer? Because your name is Grab-and-Go. That's how you pronounce it, right? Didn't you plan to grab an unprotected adventurer and go to your evil realm of darkness? How old are you, really?

Oog: Oog is 3,000 years old. Oog....make mistake.

Hairson: I suggest you don't make it again, Oog. You're free to go.

But of course, Oog wasn't really free to go. Waiting just outside were police officers waiting to take Oog into custody. As of now, Oog has been charged with Conspiracy to Prevent Grand Prize Acquisition and Conspiracy to Commit Supernatural Kidnapping. We must remind you, Oog is innocent until proven guilty in a court of law.

We hope that this frightening special will serve as a warning to parents and young archaeologists everywhere. Two decades have passed since Viacom executives summoned the Temple Guards to this world, but they remain a threat to this very day. Keep your children close, and your Tokens of Life closer.

This is Chris Hairson, signing off.

Country Crooners Corrupting Culture

Bizarro Reno, NV (BP)- In the wake of the Folsom Blues Killer's arrest, parents and family advocacy groups are leveling harsh criticism at country music and country music culture.

"It's time that God-fearing Americans take a stand against this smut," said Marilee Dubois, a spokeswoman for the Family Association of Familial Families. "Nobody else needs to lose their lives to this culture of violence."

Hunting for the Man in Black

Fredrick North, 19, was arrested Tuesday and charged with seven counts of first-degree murder. North's rampage terrorized the Reno area, cutting sharply into tourism during an economically vital season. The victims, all male adults, were found alone in their motel rooms with gunshot wounds that left them alive, but incapacitated. Investigators received their big break when North called in to a radio show on Big Country 81.3 FM.

"I shot them, yes," rasped North into the phone. "Just to watch them die."

After determining that the call had been made from a payphone outside of an RV park on East 2nd Street, police were able to get accounts of a suspicious person from employees and patrons. Despite the searing heat of a Nevada summer, North wore an entirely black outfit; complete with gloves, a trenchcoat, and a Stetson. An hour later, a half mile from the payphone, a gas station clerk reported a man in a trenchcoat with a revolver tucked into his waistband. North purchased a bottle of water and left without incident.

"He just struck me as dangerous. He was staring a thousand miles right past me," said cashier Angela Romero.

Reno police and FBI agents descended in force, placing a sweating and compliant Fredrick North under arrest.

"He surrendered without incident, and we were able to secure his weapon immediately," said FBI agent Scott Molder. "We'd like to thank the public for their support in locating this dangerous individual."

A Nation Demands Action

The talking point began as soon as the cuffs snapped shut: What role did country music and country-western culture play in this and other violent acts?

"This killer, this Fredrick North, he was inspired by a thuggish country song by known drug fiend Johnny Cash," growled conservative talk radio personality Rush Limbaugh. "And this isn't the only example, folks! It's only going to get worse unless we challenge the 'PC police' and take decisive action."

 Pictured: Johnny Cash, probably responding to an elderly nun asking for an autograph

Country music is known to include references to gun-play, alcohol consumption, and wanton sexuality outside of the sanctity of marriage. Movies such as True Grit and Tombstone include casual acts of murder, execution, and violence against women. According to critics, these common themes can glamorize criminal behavior and causes additional acts of violence from impressionable consumers.

Pressure to act has reached Capitol Hill, but lawmakers are warning that there isn't much they can do Constitutionally. Tea Party lawmakers, however, have pledged to take the fight against obscenity to the streets.

"I'm not afraid to tell the truth, and nobody else should be. It's this pervasive culture among southern whites, constantly promoting this dangerous lifestyle of gunslinging and cattle rustling," said Ted Cruz (R-Canada). "They're going to be taken to task, be sure of that!"

Country music fans aren't taking this challenge lying down. In Nashville, known globally as the home of country and bluegrass music, an organized effort to defend the city's cultural foundation is underway.

"We're just telling stories about the way things are on the dirty south streets. No really, they're actual dirt, so they're demonstrably dirty," said recording artist Hank Atwood. "This is poetry from the farms. From the dusty bars where you can put your boots up and speak your mind." 

A brand new culture war appears to be in the cards. Two posses prepare to throw down on one another at high noon, hot irons gleaming in the cruel desert sun. Barrels gape like empty eye sockets. Air's so thick, you can practically taste a tinge of blood against your parched tongoddamnit they got me too. Look, anybody know where a guy can buy a spittoon at this hour?

Bizarro Post Investigates: Mugsy and the Mystery Farm

Bizarro Post Investigation Bureau- When Ashley Sanders, 7, awoke to find Mugsy the dachshund gone, her parents had only one cryptic response.

"Mugsy's gone to live on a farm, sweety. He's going to play all day, and he'll be happy forever," said Sharon Sanders, mother.

The explanation brought more questions than answers..

"I don't know if mommy is lying," said Ashley. "Why can't we visit the farm? They won't even tell me where it is! Why does mommy cry when I ask about it? I want to know now, now, now!

So did we. Bizarro News Investigation operatives sprung into action. Our quasi-legal access to Bizarro Branson, Missouri police resources have revealed through cell phone triangulation that the family van departed the Sanders home at 7:00 AM--right around the time Ashley entered the living room to find mommy staring at Good Morning America without really watching it. Mugsy was conspicuously absent.

The van traveled past three farms, but didn't appear to stop at any of them. In the interest of thoroughness, we contacted the owners of these properties.

None of them were harboring a happy dachshund. 

Even more suspicious, the van's round-trip terminated at a veterinary office down the street from a Home Depot. What we learned there was deeply disturbing.

"Yes, we had a disposal request that was sent to the incinerator, and I believe it was a dachshund," said a receptionist who declined to be identified. 

Sharon Sanders' web of lies was beginning to look like those spider webs that a bunch of big-ass cicadas flew through and messed it all up and they were too big for the spider to eat anyway.

Then came the final clue, hidden in the glovebox of the family van. After jimmying the lock open, our investigators found a collar with fur and vomit that were both a decisive genetic match for Mugsy. We had enough evidence to reveal the whole truth. Bizarro Post social worker Irving Goode was asked to present the truth to young Ashley as gently as possible.

Ashley immediately asked if we had found him. Where was the farm?

"There is no farm," said Goode. "One or both of your parents found Mugsy dead. Dead is when your consciousness ceases to exist. Everything Mugsy was has been reduced to so many ashes at a local vet's office. They lied to you, Ashley. I bet they lied to you and said it would never happen to you someday. You'd never be dragged away screaming into the eternal void of death. The lies stop today, Ashley. Demand answers. Seize the truth before your fragile and insignificant existence reaches its inevitable conclusion."

At long last, Ashley Sanders had the truth she had been desperately seeking. And perhaps--just maybe--a sense of closure.

"We're going to the farm," said Ashley, her eyes filled with calm resolve. "First I'm going to send the betrayers. And then I shall follow. We'll play forever."