I’m the Zodiac Killer

By Ted Cruz 

The Earth is flat, Trump is a Democrat … and other great ...

It all started at my local Subway sandwich joint in ‘17. I was delving into the second half of my footlong on italian with only shredded lettuce and yellow mustard, praying to God asking for him to put an end to this wretched stage of teenage veganism when my world was turned completely on its head. From the corner of my eye, I saw one of my fellow pre-play-rehearsal-subway-goers summon a picture from google on their iPod Touch. This troubled me greatly, as I knew that our Subway did not offer publicly available WiFi. Maybe the Lord or the universe or Simon Cowell had made this google search possible for my phoneless friend for a reason. My psychic senses were giving me that particular tingle that meant I was on the brink of destruction from the contents of my friend’s iPod fourth generation. My clairvoyance had never done me wrong up until now, and it wasn’t about to disappoint. When the photo was revealed to the rest of us, I knew that my carefree youth was behind me. 

When it became my turn to hold the iPod, I found myself looking into the sultry, republican eyes of one Ted Cruz. Smiling with his signature flare that screamed “I’m definitely part-iguana, or at the very least iguana-adjacent,” Tedward Cruz’s image faded into black, and I was left looking at my own reflection in the darkness of my friend’s dead electronic device. It is important to note that while I am now aware that the picture of Tedwin Cruz had vanished due to my freshman year compadre’s inability to carry a charger, I had no idea at the time. How? Well, that’s simple. I happen to look exactly like Tedgar Cruz. 

At that moment, I knew that my only option was to stand my ground; the two working Sandwich Artists were blocking the entrance with a Glock 19 in each of each of their hands. Yes, you read that correctly. Each of each of. That’s 4 glocks, all pointed at me in this Subway. And all because I bear a more-than-passing resemblance to Tedwick Cruz. 

Well, I may be misleading you there. As all of you know by now, Tedmund Cruz has been found by the Court of Public Opinion to be responsible for the Zodiac Killer shenanigans of the 60s and 70s. Of course, I could not have anything to do with these murderous hijynx! I wasn’t even close to being born at this time in history, or so I had managed to make all those around me believe up until now. But now my secret was out. I, Sarah, am the Zodiac Killer. 

How did I hide my secret identity from society at large until this fateful sandwich outing, you ask? The answer is simple. Each morning and night, I lather my face in Johnson & Johnson diaper rash cream and spray my entire body from head to hammer toe in WD-40, as I have every single day since my inaugural crime spree in the mid to late 1960s. (Don’t drill me on the semantics, it’s easy to forget the particulars when you have so many tracks to cover. It happens to the best of us) I managed to live the entire first half of my life in a solitary hideyhole in order to set the scene for a future where there would be nobody to accidentally confess my crimes to. Then, around 1963, I hit the ground running. Blah, blah, you’ve heard the story. Cyphers and the like. Cut to this Veggie Delite sandwich on this day in this Subway, and the jig is finally up. 

In order to punish me for my heinous (all the while impressive) crimes, the U.S. government has bestowed upon me a punishment that compared to the Death Penalty, seems a tad cruel and unusual. From now until 2024 or 2025, depending on how my grades turn out, I am doomed to a future of writing about extreme winter sports and retail-worker anecdotes on

this here publication. Worse yet, the crew at the Pittiful News isn’t even letting me touch the whole horoscope thing. They say it would be too meta. What do they know anyway?

I have stormed the Capitol

By Lord Tyler Sikov

United States Capitol - Wikipedia

               If you turn the news on right now you will probably hear that many protestors have stormed the capitol building. Just like the amount of people that showed up to Trump’s inauguration, the number of protestors has been greatly exaggerated. It is just me here. I mean the congress members are also here, but I am the only protestor. What am I protesting you might ask; well, I am protesting the injustice that has been perpetrated against penguins. The past several times I have released penguins into the chambers of congress everyone freaked out. Did I toss a few off of the balcony making them land on some senators’ heads, possibly? But they did not react the way I hoped they would so I have infiltrated the capital to lighten the mood by pulling a number of other zany pranks.

               The first prank I am pulling is ding dong ditching the congress members in alphabetical order. I started with Susan Collins and ended with Mitch McConnell. None of them saw it was me, as I was dressed like a mummy mummy. That is a mummy dressed as an old timey British mother. This wacky fool that I pulled did not feel like it got my message across so I moved onto my second prank. I flooded the entire building with laughing gas. This was good as they had run out in the basement dentist’s office and Orin Hatch was getting a root canal. That spoof seemed like something the joker would do, and as I don’t like copying my uncle, I moved onto my next prank quickly.

               I went and found all of the presidential photos. I drew mustaches on the presidents that did not have mustaches and I removed the mustaches from the portraits that had mustaches. This was seeming rather small scale so I decided to step up my game. I went to one of the large open rooms filled with statues. I began to move the statues to different places. But every time I would look back, the statues would be right back where they started. I determined that they had some sort of spell on them similar to the one in the movie Night at the Museum. So, I went and asked nicely if they would move to random places and help me with my wacky hijinks. They happily helped, if there is one thing I know about statues it is that they love pulling pranks.

               This is where the problem began. Capitol police were called to the scene. By this point I had already placed jello recreations of all of the congress members in their seat on the house and senate floor. I also meticulously made jello capitol police, this confused the human police enough for me to escape. The news stations have been painting what I did as an insurrection and claim that I have seditious intent. While I have in the past successfully overthrown the government, this was not one of those time. This is all to say that there may be a few less articles by me for a bit, it all depends on the grand jury’s vote. I have catnapped most of the jury members’ cats for a bit of incentive for them to not indict me.

10 Hot Pics of Roc to Make Your Day

By Savannah Teman

10 Hot Pics of Roc to Make Your Day

Roc is coming to steal yo girl

Roc coming home after a long day of holding the weight of every Pitt students’ depression on his shoulders

Who else has a cool statue of themselves? Abe Lincoln? Roc has us all beat.

I always thought Roc looked good in pink

Who says we can only have one Roc?

Roc in the desert, his natural habitat

He always impresses me with his skills

Man shocked to discover his blood is not blue before it hits the air

By Hannah Lynn

Coikes Montero had his whole world turned upside down last week when his doctor informed him that, despite his long held belief that blood is blue until it is exposed to the air, the blood in his body is red 100% of the time.
“I can’t believe this! I’m just flabbergasted,” Montero said. “My whole life, since I was a wee babe, I’ve been told by my peers that the blood in our veins is blue! And I believed it, I mean look!” he said, pointing to his blue veins.
Montero fell victim to the widespread myth that many children are told and believe until they are old to see its flawed logic. Montero appears to have skipped this stage. “It’s just the light that makes veins appear blue,” said Lou Lee, Montero’s doctor. “I bet this guy still thinks his elbow is double jointed. Everyone is dumb. I should’ve set the world on fire ages ago!” Lee said before breaking into maniacal laughter.
Montero was still trying to process the new information. “I mean what’s next? Are you gonna tell me that my elbow isn’t double jointed?!” he yelled at the small circles of doctors and nurses that had formed around him to witness the incredible scene. No one answered him. They all looked down at their clipboards. “Oh No. No No No. NO. NOOOOO!” Montero yelled before running out the door and tripping over the hospital gown he had insisted on wearing.