London UK: Scotland Yard is reporting that two women forced their way into the editorial offices of The Spoof, tying up the administrator named Mark. The thieves then made off with dossiers of all the spoof writers. The administrator described the...
There was suddenly a hive of activity in the bar. Doormen appeared from no-where and everywhere, each one rapidly speaking into radios and rushing towards the door. In the dark gloom, many of them tripped up and before long there was a big pile of blacksuited monkey men in the middle of the floor. But still they appeared, and still they headed towards the front door. From the distance, a...
"Congratulations." Thus spake The Spoof. "You've Won!" Fire! Atwitter! Heart apace with the fleetest steed's, for I am about to be draped in the fineries of that that have heretofore been not mine to possess. It is The Spoof, whose heartfelt announcement broke the silence that cast itself throughout my office; a speaker harkens to me when no task from it was asked. I search: On no horizo...
Local man, Martin Shuttlecock, a dashingly handsome 27 year old superstud (that part's pure fiction - ed) today expressed his dissatisfaction with an advert on his favourite website, TheSpoof.com Shuttlecock bombarded site administrator Mark Lowto...
Local man, Martin Shuttlecock, was cock-a-hoop today as he succeeded in penning his 2,000th Spoof News story on popular satirical website TheSpoof.com. Indeed, so chuffed is Shuttlecock that he is contemplating donning his long leather coat and pork...
Hollywood directorial titans James Cameron and Steven Spielberg reportedly locked horns over who should have the rights to a little heard of magazine collaboration between writers from popular satirical website TheSpoof.com. Both directors apparen...
EQ, relaxing on his favourite Chesterfield studded, chrome leather armchair, smoking a clay pipe shaped like a seahorse, acquired on his travels through darkest Dagenham from a gold toothed gipsy-like gentleman with a barrow and stiff leg, pondered. He gave a dashing image dressed in his purple quilted smoking jacket of finest Malaysian silk, King George silver buttons and stuffed with Manx Cat...
What's with all these customers all of a sudden? Oh, I'm Skoob, by the way, the bartender here. I'm quite well known for being a miserable bastard who doesn't like work. A couple of weeks ago, I could just come in to work and watch TV and not really do much of anything. The boss (Mark) was okay with that. He was quite reasonable back then. I mean, he wasn't ambitious or anything - he just wa...
It was all starting to fall in place, the lessons I'd so desperately tried to learn from that one trip to a Zen master in Marrakesh, mindful breathing, mindful breathing, would I become one with the gerbil? Gerbils? How many? I wondered was it possible to become one with more than one. That trip to Marrakesh had me thinking about Charpa again. Charpa, Sherpa, yes, there was a Sherpa. I remembe...
Barman Skoob placed a dark brew on the table, a slight swirling froth on the surface momentarily formed into an image of a man with military bearing. As I watched, the image winked and was replaced with the words Number Juan Awaits. Startled I glanced at the barman, his moustache twinkling he flicked an eyebrow at me. The froth had gone from the drink, and the drink had gone from the glass.
Once again they've become fodder for the boffins. Now a group of researchers says a 10-year study has revealed that spoof writers are most likely to suffer from impotence, incontinence, incoherence and constipation due to the excessive numbers of ho...
The place smelled suspiciously of chocolate raisins, which had been discarded in a perfect line along the base of the bar. I noticed the bartender who give a courteour grimace. "New guy huh? What can I get you?" he said, offering out a weary hand. "The name's Skoob. I'm the bartender guy around here. I can open a tab, but I guess you don't got no money." I checked my pockets to discover my w...
There was a new guy on the block. That was our first impression. We'd been there for weeks now: many of us for months. Circles upon circles of desks, each congregating towards an inner ring. As usual, the Big Four were closest to the largest desk in the room. Then there was the rest of us. The new guy took a desk opposite me, and smiled. "How do. I'm Mr. Le Fete. I take it you're a writer...
Jumping from Chapter 1, #3 disappeared between the beaded curtain, leading into...I know not what. Taking a deep breath, I started to follow, brazenly brushing aside the cheap plastic beads when a grizzled hand grabbed me round the throat, and pushed me up against the wall. As the pressure released, only slightly mind you, I was able to refocus and found myself looking into the demented ey...
London's underbelly - The smell of rotting bannanas was overwhelming as I came off of the subway in lower Dorchestorshire of Loxley. The fog was relentless as I emerged into the night at 2am. Then I saw her, a red head with the most incredible gams I'd ever seen. She looked me over as if I was a piece of meat, and not a particularly good piece, but maybe I'd do. "What cat dragged you down...
Not originally recognized in any country other than his own, Philbert Macadamia, Chilean nut grower and the country's largest exporter is also becoming wildly popular as a satirical writer for TheSpoof.com online magazine. Preferring to deftly spo...
In a shock news announcement today, it appears that a collection of "TheSpoof.com" writers have collectively written one of Williams Shakespeare's plays, completely at random and by mistake. "We didn't mean to do it" cried Monkey Woods, spokesper...
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