report published by Downing Street’s strategy unit found the whole of Britain utterly plastered last week, surprising government officials who thought the nation only mostly drunk. The study, originally intended to determine public opinion toward new traffic-reduction measures in downtown London, shocked researchers by revealing that the entire British populace, to a man, was too drunk to talk about traffic.

The study found British binge drinking had increased to 100 percent, and added that British children under 16 are drinking twice as much as they did 10 years ago. Some blame the government’s “Our kids: Tomorrow’s drunks, today!� poster campaign for this increase, while others lay the blame on all the kids getting shitfaced everywhere. The study is also thought to have amassed a world-record assemblage of unintelligible British quotes.

“Aye mum, ‘ow ‘bout a pint, ey?� asked six-year-old Roary Willis of Liverpool when confronted with the study’s findings.

The numbers also show that women are drinking more, and falling out of moving cars at a record rate. Asked to comment on increased alcohol consumption among British women, housewife Mary Willis mused “Well, frans maston ralf nay, eh hay!� while filling a spillproof cup with Newcastle.

The study also found increased rates of public singing of fight songs, “dunking,� as defined by throwing chickens into public fountains, and an increased enthusiasm for camping, as defined by sleeping outside.

Not all Britons were pleased with the study’s findings.

“We need to create a more civilized late-night culture! Dear God do we… It should be about cinema, and theater… uh, and bowling,� said British bowling director Rodden Blears, wincing remorsefully as he nursed a cup of black coffee.

“Aye bawlin!� slurred nearby reveler Drew Jaehnig, grabbing his package. “Fock ryte! Boost me liney shaynt chans, ha ha! I’ll go bawlin wit me dyke inna cont’s hat! Ha ha!�

The study found that Britain loses 17 million workdays every year to hangovers, fuck-offs and vomit-related drownings, the equivalent of 46,000 years spent sleeping under a table in the lobby of a strange hotel. The figure represents more than double the nation’s actual recorded workdays.

These findings put Britain out to a comfortable lead as the most-drunk nation, topping perennial drunken powerhouses Sweden, Denmark and Germany, which recently became less drunk thanks to a U.N. intervention.

“Hammel geinen fausteneininin…� giggled German bricklayer Hans Slomein, blowing at a feather stuck in his beard when asked about his nation’s alcohol consumption.

Government officials for the other most-drunk countries can only speculate what effect these findings will have on their now runner-up nations. German and Swedish officials could not be rousted from bed for comment, but officials from Denmark asked the commune to remember last year’s U.N. General Assembly, when Danish representative Lars Faaborg-Andersen pissed himself while holding a hot dog to his crotch, when considering Denmark’s drunken staying power.

heikh Ahmed Yassin, founder of the Islamic militant movement Hamas, came out of hiding today to reject calls for a cease-fire with Israel. Yassin instead issued an impassioned demand that he be given the "Ring of Power," with which the Muslim cleric would rule the hearts of men and bring about Mideast peace through the total annihilation of all who would oppose him.

The wheelchair-bound militant leader spoke at a Gaza City mosque, flanked by Hamas bodyguards while making his first public appearance since nearly being killed earlier this week during Israeli air strikes.

"The time for playing games has ended," announced Yassin, gesturing to his rickety wheelchair with a resigned shrug.

"Israel can take my legs, but we will take the legs of their country! And eat them, like they were legs of chickens. Delicious Israeli chicken legs!" shouted Yassin, rubbing his tummy in a satisfied gesture. The largely Muslim crowd present cheered to show their support for chicken.

"And we will eat their wings and nuggets when we are done feasting on the drumsticks of oppression!" Yassin continued, making a face described by several onlookers as "kinda goofy-crazy."

Hamas has refused to give up its arms and join the government of incoming Palestinian prime minister Ahmed Qorei, citing the August 22nd assassination of Hamas co-founder Ismail Abu Shanab as the latest unpardonable gaffe in Israeli-Hamas relations.

"In spite of the truce, the Israeli enemy did not stop its aggression, its massacres and its destructions for one moment after we bombed that bus full of children," added Yassin, refreshingly devoid of irony.

"Israel continues their aggressions and the United States has declared war on Islam," Yassin explained, referring to U.S. President Bush's recent "Let's Go to War with Islam" speech. "But Islam will be victorious, because it is stronger than Bush and his country. Or at least it will be once I have the One True Ring and take my place as the King of All Men. The infidels will scatter like cockroaches because I will be a huge Muslim man and they will be small like cockroaches, and I will be stomping on them. Look out."

Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat expressed regret that discussions with Hamas leaders had taken this unfortunate turn into Lord of the Rings-themed dementia, greatly complicating hopes for stability and a lasting peace in the region.

Meanwhile, a group of 27 Israeli air force reserve pilots signed a petition refusing to carry out air strikes against Palestinian targets, citing apprehension about being on the wrong side when Yassin "gets that ring and starts kicking wholesale ass like an unstoppable 9-foot-tall voodoo zealot."

No one wanted it to come to this. Sure, if you checked with Arvelyn, or my other ex-wife, several of my children, or anybody on the commune staff, a number of them may have wanted it to come to this. But no one I like wanted it to come to this: A duel to the death.

I have besmirched the name of Boguslaw Sadowski, and it's no small feat to besmirch his name, given he's a dirty red con-man, heartless thug, and general bad cookie. But the time for words has passed, at least until we resume the slander trial. I for one won't wait that long. The duel is ten days from now. One of us will be dead by the time that trial rolls around, making it a lot easier case for the other guy. Though the survivor will get stuck with court costs, that's no free lunch.

The besmirching in question began two days ago, when I came home to find Boguslaw Sadowski in my home, talking to my wife in that unintelligible Russian blather they both know. Mob boss and Sting-lookalike Yogi explained to me Boguslaw would be moving in for the next few forevers, or until he could find his own place. Well, something snapped in me, good people, probably a couple of lower vertebrae, and I lost another inch in height. That I'm used to, but being made a fool of in my own home, and being completely aware of it, that's something I'm not. As if to make things worse, I noticed Boguslaw, talking to Felchyana still, make the international hand symbol for asshole, which I won't share with you decent folk here.

That was it, I was incensed. I grabbed the nearest thing I could and threw it at the mad Russian, a bucket of confetti I keep on hand for emergency purposes. At first Boguslaw was delighted, then he realized the intended insult and was driven into a mad rage. He threatened to cut off the fingers of all my living children in response, which I laughed off—if he's got that sort of time, good luck to him, right? Then he decided it was more effective to pick me up by the ankles and hang me out my own window.

Well, I've been hung out windows by better than he and didn't bat an eye, but the insult of doing it to me in my own house, in front of my non-English-speaking wife, and revealing my unsightly ankles to the whole world. Boguslaw Sadowski made an enemy for life that day, good people, and the difference now is I told him to his face. I slapped him with a glove I keep for duel challenges, and it left quite a welt, being a rubber surgical glove. I then pulled it taut and snapped it in his face, and his eye has been bandaged ever since—hopefully that will effect his aim quite a bit. Since we are dueling in ten days, as I aforementioned.

You all know I am not afraid of death, when it is happening to someone else. In this case, though it comes for me, I will stand proud against it. Boguslaw Sadowski may fire an endless barrage of bullets in my direction, though technically that will be against all the rules of the duel, and I will not falter. If he tries to kill Felchyana and Camembert and Lee, I will not weaken. If he kills my ex-wife Arvelyn I may even send him a nice thank-you note and an FTD bouquet. But whatever happens, no matter how logic argues with me, I will not back down from this challenge.

For I have been insulted with an obscene hand gesture by a man who barely speaks the language, good people. And some things defy common sense. Rok Finger are one of those things.

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