Comic Relief Sends 10,000 Tons of Onions to Africa

fter years of providing fart-powder-drenched meals for the homeless, the humanitarian organization Comic Relief completed its latest drive this month by sending huge quantities of useless onions and garnish to starving families in Africa, in what is believed to be the largest-ever gag gift in the history of charitable donations.

Comic Relief’s gift is thought to be the funniest aid Africa has received since the USA for Africa fundraiser in 1985 collected over $60 million to pay for mayonnaise and other highly-perishable foodstuffs to taunt the hungry of that famine-plagued continent.

“I remember seeing USA for Africa on the news back in 1985 and thinking ‘That’s fucking hilarious! Why didn’t we think of that?’� remembers comedian and Comic Relief host Robin Williams. “They got all these people to call in and pledge money, did the song and everything, and then they spent it all on shit that went bad in like twenty minutes! Then the real stroke of genius is when they put it trucks with bald tires and set them loose all over Africa to get stuck in the mud and capsize, and then the drivers ate most of the food. Too funny! I only hope we’re remembered as well.�

Comic Relief, founded in 1986 by comedian Bob Zmuda as a gut-busting way to help the homeless, sought in its 17th year to make a new splash by taking their “leave ‘em laughing� credo to an international level. Early indications are that this giving spirit is spreading, as Comedy Central has already pledged to match Comic Relief’s donations dollar-for-dollar, providing impoverished Africans with ketchup and A-1 sauce to go with their hilariously inedible feast of onions and garnish.

“At first we were thinking of sending them some really nasty food, like liver or something, but then we realized that would just be mean,� explained comedian and Comic Relief regular Billy Crystal, whose humanitarian work has been funnier than his movies for years. “They could actually eat that crap, and that wouldn’t be funny, just sad. I mean, how would you like it if you were starving to death and some wiseass acts like he’s being all generous, then gives you something gross your mom used to make you eat? Blech.�

“It was way funnier to just give them a shitload of onions, because what are they going to do with those? They’re pretty good for seasoning other food, but what other food?� Crystal chuckled, shrugging his shoulders in a “Who knows?� gesture. “You should have seen those guys when the trucks pulled up and all those onions came tumbling out the back! They kept waiting expectantly as each new truck pulled up, thinking one of them had to be the steak or French fries truck, but then each one would open up and it was ‘Nope! More onions!’ Ha ha. Ah… well, maybe you had to be there.�

The presidents of Ethiopia, Zimbabwe and Nigeria issued a public thank you to Comic Relief last Thursday, praising the group for their giving hearts and strong sense of starvation-themed humor. The statement was followed by an expectant pause, as if the African leaders were each expecting Comic Relief to recognize their ability to appreciate a good joke and in turn reveal where the actual food was. All three were still waiting on stage when the Comic Relief representative in attendace sounded off an electric fart box, then in the ensuing commotion ducked out a back fire escape, leaving the building.

he Bornean junk monkey, Stevensons' slug, Malaysian sitting bird and the world's largest species of blind sea trout are in grave danger of extinction, the World Conservation Union warned an assemblage of world leaders on Tuesday to the sound of one tiny violin playing sarcastically. Also among the newly-threatened species nobody has ever heard of are the shovelnosed arctic frog, the smoke weasel, the Andean left-handed dolphin and the three-toed nervous elephant of lower Peru.

All are among 13,279 varieties critically endangered and possibly-imaginary animal, plant and water life precious to bleeding-heart liberals the world over. Many are new to this year's edition of the group's list, a yearly "wake-up call to the world" that unless serious changes are made to environmental policy, the earth's biodiversity might one day shrink to comprehensible levels.

This year's list, like all that came before it, has drawn a collective boo-hoo from the planet's human inhabitants.

"Excuse me, but what has the Columbian rice shrew ever done for me or my family?" questioned an indignant Don Cloyd from Williamsburg, Virginia. "My uncle lost a logging job because of some stupid owl that didn't want to live at a box at the zoo or something, so sorry if that ruined it for all the other creatures out there, but I still say animals that don't taste good can kiss my ass."

Various world leaders questioned about the organization's list issued similar mock-sincere statements, vowing to halt all future economic progress in order to make the world safe for such hilariously improbable creatures as the Chilean trouser trout and the loud Spanish jackass.

Over 762 animals have gone extinct worldwide since various governments and the NRA began keeping records in the 1600's. Among the beautiful creatures the earth will never again know are the Tittleosen snot sloth, the North American windshield sparrow and the sickly cave bear of Nepal.

Perhaps the most stirring symbol for lost species is the majestic dodo, a once-useless bird that wobbled off into the history books in the early 17th century when Dutch sailors visiting islands in the Indian Ocean discovered the birds, whose strange compulsion to hop into cooking pots and offer themselves up for soups and other entrees led quickly to their extinction.

According to the WCU, thousands more creatures will join these ranks shortly if steps are not taken to slow the destruction of their native habitats in industrialized and developing nations. Saddest of all may be the possible fate of the Scottish brownie hound, once numbering in the thousands but now thought to be down to the last one and a half specimens in existence. Even that shocking number is sinking fast as scientists are unsure of how long you can keep half a dog alive in a cooler full of ice.

In delivering the study to world leaders, WCU Director General Achim Steiner also pointed out the success of recent efforts to save formerly endangered species such as Arabian oryx and the white rhino, news which inspired several unimpressed heads of state to mouth the word "super" while mimicking the jerk-off motion with their hands.

What a difference a day makes. Wednesday I was living the good life, the best my life has ever been, Thursday I may be responsible for the death of dozens, and my oatmeal was cold.

I keep telling myself tomorrow is another chance for a good day, that I can wake up earlier and spend more time cooking the oatmeal, but nothing can bring those dead men back to life. Or, if there is, I probably can't afford it. I'll just have to live with their deaths on my head, or get a second job to afford the re-animator machine, and I'm not about to do that.

The head of the crime family I'm currently accessory to, Yogi, took me along to a inter-mafia event of some sort. I'm not sure exactly what was to be moved, drugs, guns, or illicit footwear, but I know the relationship was on thin ice as it was. And mob people are in general too fat to stay on thin ice for a very long time, no offense to you and your murderous ilk if you're mobbed up. But Rok Finger was the extra helping of love handles that cracked the ice here.

My comments are not entirely important here, but suffice to say they bruised a lot of feelings and led to name-calling and bullet-firing. So insignificant, really, they don't bear repeating. But I would suggest if you're going to get worked up over a difference of opinion on Johnny Mathis being a better crooner than Frank Sinatra, maybe you're the one with the problem, and the state shouldn't issue you a gun permit. Then again, I guess if you're in the business of buying and selling arms you probably have ways around the permit thing.

It's a nightmare, good people. A few crass words, some of them my own, admittedly, and a couple of slaps later and all of a sudden I'm surrounded by dead bodies—not in a good way either. Yogi said I'm not to blame, except for I started the flow of blood, but don't take it too hard, Joe Cool. A war with the New Jersey family was coming for some time, he told me. Still, I felt awful.

I tried to fix everything in the best way I know how—a nice letter to the newspaper. I used all the names of their family, tried to ingratiate myself with liberal use of the word "goomba," and told them how fond I was of The Sopranos. There was no way I could know, but apparently this only made matters worse. It was then things went from bloody to The Shining bloody.

It's not the loss of life that bothers me—mobsters are little better than sick curs, and a few less of them isn't going to do anything but make the world a better place. It's the social faux pas that really bothers me. I've always been an elegant and graceful character, that's the illusion I've sustained in my mind, and with all these death threats and contracts on my life it's getting harder and harder to block out the reality.

I would like to make this all better somehow. I've offered to meet with the new head of the family, Mario, since Giovanni got whacked by Yogis clown-o-gram plot. But he insists I come alone, and it's something I refuse to do, as it's a long walk and I have no ride there. With enough talk I might convince him Camembert doesn't count as company, and we'll finally be able to work out this little death feud. The last thing I need is another death feud after the last one nearly got me killed.

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