Jonathan Kieran

“Penguin Axes Legendary Publisher.”

There have long been rumors of aggressiveness and malice lurking beneath the darkling feathers of this species and its jolly, waddling “tuxedo” approach to other beings, but this abomination is unprecedented.

As far as my knowledge provides, these arctic avians have for millions of years been saddled with weak, flipper-like appendages—banishing them from the glorious joy of flight enjoyed by thousands of other condescending, sky-swinging Whores of the Air, and exiling each baleful penguin to the Hades of a salty, unloving, and sardine-crammed conglomeration of stricken seas.

Apparently, I was mistaken about the digital manipulative capabilities and the red-hot bitterness coursing relentlessly through these hostile Chaplinesque bird-brains. Alas and alack! If a penguin has the capability to take a stone-sharpened human cleaving instrument to the cranium of a fine, upstanding book publisher, what chance do we mere plebeians have for future survival?

There are so many questions that need answering.

From whence did this penguin procure the implement of death?

How did its feeble flippers maneuver the smooth but devious oak of the axe-handle?

Was the penguin able to fell this woman in one whopping swing to the skull or did it dismember her slowly, piecemeal, starting at the ankle-bones, with deliberate precision and surety of solitude?

Was the doomed publisher on an ice floe when cruelly butchered by this Malignant Murderer of the Deep, and, if so, did the floe bob like a crimson sponge in the tides of a frigid and indifferent briny?

This is all most disconcerting. Prayers and thoughts, thoughts and prayers are expelled in an avalanche of overwhelmificating emotions (+ feelings) to this departed purveyor of the written word.

May her children and her children’s children take solace in the fact that they can henceforth compose anthems of bleak yet exultant woe declaring that their beloved was shoved from the mortal coil by an unusual, decidedly memorable assassination, instead of passing-along hushed whispers and admonitions to speak no word of Granny’s departure via cancer or dementia in a pedestrian hospital setting.

Let us pray.

[Look for Jonathan Kieran’s fabulous new—as yet untitled—book of hundreds of witty, cynical, zeitgeist-rocking, and knee-slappingly clever cartoons of Pure Smartassery in 2024! Stay tuned for developing news and previews.]

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