Rise From the Ashes

I'm not going to pretend nothing has changed. It's been four years now since the cataclysmic Battle of CDN. The staff revolted, complaining of a lack of pay and no credit for their hard work. My credited associate lost his will after my then sarcastic tone in the final publication from these hallowed halls. A splinter insurgency formed from the ranks of the revolting staff, complaining that in my infinite blasphemy, I was not properly paying tribute to their God, and as such they would slay me in the name of He who commanded 'Thou Shalt Not Kill'. As the staff outnumbered me, I chose not to point out the irony. It didn't take long for this epic battle to transcend logic and reach the absurd, however, as a second splinter group formed. It seems they were offended that a group was bringing religion into the organization, which to them seemed against the wishes of the Founding Fathers with the establishment clause of the First Amendment. Apparently, they had forgotten that Completely Different News is not, in fact, a government organization in any way, shape, or form.

I didn't point out their vast stupidity either.

Fortunately for me, the splinter factions formed on opposing flanks of the staff onslaught, so a large portion of the non-splintered revolutionaries were cut down in the initial volley from the Church and State Separatists. Much to their dismay, only a single member of the God is my Editor faction was injured. Strangely, his body was found with a St. Jude medal around his neck, but I'm not entirely certain what significance that had.

The sneak attack from the CaSS side awakened the fury of GimE and the not-so-politically-charged revolutionaries (those who weren't already dead that is), and a return volley was launched. Unfortunately for the NSPCR, they were still between the two conflicting splinters. Every last one of them was killed mercilessly by fire not intended for them. This would be a tragedy if they weren't all intending to kill me just minutes before. Half of the CaSS were perforated by hot lead from the two factions firing at them, apparently with very little skill.

The fighting continued just outside my office for several minutes before one of the CaSS called for a cease fire. Feelings were tense but his compatriots and the GimE oppositon relented. The man who asked for the cease fire called across to the other side, "Weren't we all here to kill that pompous moron in the Editor's office?"

As soon as he began to ask that question I opened my office door slightly and fired my 44 magnum at the questioner. Neither side seemed to notice that the bullet entry point was clearly from the side rather than the front, so hostilities resumed. Later I remembered that both of these factions were filled with deeply idiotic members, and the misunderstanding made more sense.

Somehow, the two factions managed to eradicate each other save for a single member of CaSS. He marched to my office and, to his credit, fired wildly through the door instead of opening it straight off to be shot instantly. A single bullet pierced my shoulder and another lightly grazed my cheek. The fatal mistake on the part of this final surviving soldier was calmly attempting to check on his handiwork. If you ever plan on entering a room with a potential hostile, always assume the hostile is still active. Years of common sense gleaned from Hollywood and video games have taught me this.

In another trick learned from a video game, I pointed my 44 magnum at the intruder's groin and fired. Just as expected, the man collapsed like a sack of potatoes, which in turn increased my chances of scoring a critical hit to his eyes. With that third shot, the rebellion was over and I had come out victorious, but at an enormous price. My assistant was killed in the crossfire. I'm not entirely sure how to make coffee, so with my assistant's death I would be Java-less. In a slightly different context I would applaud that concept, but not in the beverage context. Not at all.

Being a gigantic baby, my mostly superficial wounds and inability to get coffee delivered on a whim drove me to the brink of insanity. I withdrew from the spectrum of journalism for all this time to lick my wounds. At some point I learned to make coffee myself, so at least I don't need to pay another sicophant to bring me hot flavored water anymore.

That's really all there is to say about my absence from the field. Any claims that conflict with my account are clearly lies designed to undermine my credibility as a respectable journalist. I do not yet have a staff of underlings or associates, as I haven't found a group qualified enough who is clearly too uncoordinated to handle a firearm without literally shooting themselves in the foot.

-CDNews Ed. Chris