ock musician and poet Bob Dylan received the ultimate honor Friday night from an unknown fan believed to be under the influence of several chemical substances. For all his years of service in changing the face of modern music, Dylan was knighted in a brief ceremony behind the Homebrew bar and grill that took only a couple minutes.

Dylan, who was performing an unannounced set at the Homebrew promoting his new album, was extremely surprised and delighted by the honor.

"It was very cool," said Dylan. "You don’t get into this life with thought of major rewards like being knighted. You do it for the music, or maybe the money. This is quite a big moment for me and I’d like to thank the drug-influenced guy who bestowed this upon me, wherever he is."

Dylan was on his way to the parking lot of the club with friends when the unidentified high guy stopped him in the alley, proclaimed Dylan the man, and knighted him with a very quick tap on each of his shoulders with an empty Thunderbird bottle, pretending it was a sword. He then pissed his pants and stumbled back into the club. Surprised but happy with the honor, Dylan continued on to his car.

"I thought about trying to find the guy, but I didn’t want to insult him after he had just done this very great thing for me. I was also a bit shocked by it all. Even if you expect this sort of thing is going to happen, some alley behind a club is about the last place you’re ready for it."

Columbia Records, Dylan’s label, has jumped all over the high-press event. New releases of all Dylan’s previous albums are being issued with a royal seal on them under the artist heading of "Sir Bob Dylan."

"Everyone at Columbia has always known America has a special genius in Bob Dylan," said Columbia V.P. of Advertising John Bonlee, "and now people everywhere will know that. The dude on heroin or crack or whatever behind that club knew it, and recognized Dylan for his years of service to the music industry and world as a whole."

Sources report that if the blitzed night club rambler can be found, Columbia Records would like to have him knight Dylan again, just for the sake of press, on a two-hour TV special with friends and fellow musicians playing songs in Dylan’s honor. Dylan, who has written rock ’n’ roll and folk staples like "Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man," "Blowin’ in the Wind," and "Like A Rolling Stone," could not verify the possibility of a two-hour TV event, but said he would definitely not want to air opposite Friends and Survivor.

he major news media again claimed victory over the world itself by creating news from nothing. The so-called story this week revolved around a 25-year-dead white boy named Elvis Presley.

Presley, the king of rock and roll, died August 16, 1977, which is news thanks to the lack of real stories this week as fans and the media celebrate the 25th anniversary of his death. Born in Tupelo, Mississippi, Presley was the first attractive white person to bring rock and roll to the nation, and obtained the title "king of rock and roll" in some undisclosed media ceremony.

"Elvis touched everyone," said an unidentified modern rock star pretending to be in touch with music history. "He was the one and only. There will never be another like him."

Fans flocked in presumably record numbers to Graceland to see the place where Elvis lived in strange, hermit-like seclusion until his death on the toilet. Presley was extremely popular in his lifetime, though that popularity peaked and waned over the years, ultimately leaving him most popular after his death.

"This here's Elvis week," proclaimed a Los Angeles classic rock station disc jockey named Danger Bob. "Celebrating the king of rock and roll by playing 'Hound Dog' every hour on the hour. Elvis was one of a kind, he invented it all. There will never be another like him."

His legacy in rock and roll already firmly established, Presley added another accomplishment to his resume this week, as he helped provide filler for news programs, networks, and magazines all across the nation, despite being dead for a quarter of a century.

The face and name of Elvis Presley have graced the covers of magazines, news footage, and news websites, as if some new event had occurred to warrant his coverage. CNN has been airing specials covering the history and influence of the King, Time named Elvis their Person of the Week, and VH-1 has even been playing Elvis videos during the rare hours they play videos.

"The news media owes Elvis a ton of thanks. He's saved our hash from the fire once again," said CNN correspondent Muffy St. Clair. "The president's on vacation and unable to supply us with the usual amount of ignorant quotes. The War on Terror sure hasn't gotten any more interesting—nobody knows where Osama bin Laden is or if he's even alive. Hell, even the celebrities are boring this week. What's new? Anna Nicole Simpson? Puh-lease. A dead Elvis is more interesting than an alive her any day."

While the media has been working overtime to bring Elvis back to national attention, the public at large is invariably unchanged.

"Elvis?" said man on the street Carl Ginser. "Yeah, I like some of his stuff. That 'Suspicious Minds' song is kick-ass. I think the Fine Young Cannibals did a cover of that or something. Oh, and he would, like, raise his lip and snarl. And he always left the building and some guy would announce it, I think. I'm not sure why he's on the news so much lately, though. He's still dead, isn't he? Not a zombie or nothing?"

This reporter, for one, is thoroughly convinced he is. However, until Red Bagel agrees to spring for the plane ticket to Memphis and a shovel, we'll never know for sure. But whether he actually breathes or lies very quiet in his grave, thanks to all the needless media sensationalism, Elvis is still alive today in some way.

The call to alert had come! Or perhaps it was a call to alarm, there's a tricky subtle difference between the two that's always been tough to nail down. But whichever it was, the phone was ringing! Snuffles sprang into an action pose with his patented super-sound: "SPRAAANG!" This could only mean one thing: Snuffles' super-hero compatriots, Trophy Wife and Token Gay Friend, had been taken hostage by Dr. Crossbaum and were being held captive in his secret industrial park lair! Oh no! With several other patented super-sounds, including "BRONK!" "FDDDDT" and "Pbbbbbb…" Snuffles shot across the floor like a runaway meatball. With unprecedented smork, Snuffles leapt into the air, pausing briefly to explain that "smork" is a measure of canine superpower on a scale of one to twelve, and shot like a pot-bellied rocket toward an open window.

With paws feverishly skittling at the wallpaper, Snuffles impacted the wall two feet below the window and slumped down to the baseboards, landing in an upside-down canine super-heap. "Interesting," thought the Wonder Dog. "Looks like Dr. Crossbaum has raised the windows once again!" With that sly remark, Sunuffles scratched behind his ear for a few minutes before falling asleep in a sunbeam.

Snuffles awoke with a start, his super-ears already working double-time even though they were only being paid for time and a half. There! In the distance! The neighbor… mowing his lawn! This could only mean that Snuffles' super-compatriots were still in ever more perilous peril! Snuffles hurried over near the closet to find a super box he could pull over and stand on to see out the window. He then quickly became preoccupied with sniffing under the closet door and a new mission arose: There's beef jerky in this closet!

Sniffles pawed at the bottom of the closet door and barked in a manner signifying that he did, indeed, mean business. Few present doubted him, especially not a pill bug hiding in a crack between the floorboards. Pawing to no avail, Snuffles cursed the diabolical contraption. Could it be Trophy Wife and Token Gay Friend trapped inside? Bound and gagged silent, with the package of beef jerky tucked into Token Gay Friend's Jansport backpack as their only means of sending a distress signal? It was looking increasing more likely as the only plausible explanation.

For a time, Snuffles considered fashioning a crude lock-picking device out of a chicken bone and a shoe string, as he had in Snuffles Gets Spayed and Wonder Dog Gone Missing. Snuffles chewed on an old tennis shoe distractedly for several minutes while weighing his options, then it hit him like a bolt out of a licked electrical outlet. It was so obvious, and he'd almost fallen for it! Clearly, the jerky was a trap set by Dr. Crossbaum and his minions: the ear-pulling baby or the nameless man who's breath always smelled of Ding Dongs. Clever, Dr. Crossbaum, but not clever enough! Snuffles smiled a satisfied dog smile as he humped a discarded high-heel shoe. Snuffles, Wonder Dog: 37. Dr. Eli Crossbaum, VMD: 0.

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