Del Taco Introduces Gummy Burritos

LAKE FOREST, CA—In what the Southern California-based fast-food chain says is a response to consumer demand for a more extensive menu, Del Taco today announced the addition of Gummy Burritos to its list of mouth-watering Mexican cuisine.

"Obviously," Del Taco CEO Paul Murphy said in a statement, "the decision to expand our menu to include the 'extreme' taste experience our valued customers crave was driven in part by the success of Taco Bell's Doritos taco shell line. And no, we didn't totally rip them off."

Gummy Burritos are offered in two distinct flavors—Gummy Chicken, made from specially-crafted chicken-shaped gummies, and Gummy Carne Asada, made from cow-shaped gummies. The respective gummies are then shredded, topped with generous helpings of shredded lettuce, shredded cheese, shredded tomatoes, shredded onions, and non-shredded sour cream. The ingredients are then wrapped in a fresh flour or corn tortilla and bathed in the chain's signature hot sauce.

"Dude, this is so good!" said local stoner Jacob Enzo as he bit into a Gummy Carne Asada Burrito he received at one of Del Taco's convenient drive-thrus. "You can totally taste the gummy. This is soooo good."

"Totally, brah," agreed fellow pothead and vehicle passenger Tyler Schneider. "The gummy is so good, you can hardly taste the sour cream or the tortilla. It's like they offset each other or something. It's so juicy and fruity and gummy."

"Dude," Schneider added. "So extreme."

"Extreme to the max," said Enzo.

Based on the Gummy Burritos' initial success, Del Taco insiders were hinting at plans for Gummy Nachos, Gummy Chili Gummy Fries, and, for "those health-conscious wussies," a Gummy Salad topped with a gluten-free Gummy Dressing.

MMA Fan Has High Tolerance for Other People's Pain

LEWISTON, ID—Like many young males these days, 16-year-old Logan Holstead is a huge fan of MMA, or Mixed Martial Arts, a testosterone-fueled hybrid of boxing, wrestling, street-fighting, and every martial arts discipline imaginable. And like many young males, Logan has a high tolerance for the pain he sees inflicted upon his fellow man in the octagon.

"What a pussy!" Logan recently exclaimed while watching a high-profile match in the basement of his parents' modest home. "I can't believe that little girl couldn't handle a couple dozen hammer punches to his pretty face. If that was me, I would've just grabbed that guy's wrist and put him in an arm-bar. He would've tapped out in like three seconds."

Logan, who weighs 128 pounds and gets winded walking up more than three flights of stairs, continued.

"That's what I hate about MMA," Logan said before chasing the last of his Flamin' Hot Cheetos with a swig of Mountain Dew Code Red. "There'll be a pretty good fight going on, then some carpet-muncher'll get his shoulder dislocated or his orbital bone smashed. Before you know it, the ref stops it. 'Oh, no! The poor little princess is bleeding!'" Logan added in a preening falsetto. "They might as well make these queers wear dresses."

"And look at these limp-wristed bastards," Logan went on, biting into a stick of beef jerky as a pair of heavyweight contenders stepped into the octagon. "Just because you have a bunch of tattoos and muscles doesn't mean you're all hardcore. Sometimes it pays to be small and quick. If I was fighting those closeted fags, I'd just—"

Logan's commentary was cut short by his older brother, Tyler, who put him in a full-nelson before bending him forward and mimicking a homosexual act upon him.

"How do you like that?" Tyler inquired as he continued to mock-rape his brother. "You gonna move your truck out of the driveway? You gonna move your truck out of the driveway? It's blocking me in."

"Yes! Yes! I'll move my truck!" Logan promised, referring to his 1988 Toyota low-rider pickup with the enormous "Tapout" sticker on the rear window. "Just please let me go!"

"You got it," Tyler said as he released his little brother from the full-nelson, then pushed Logan's face against his rear end and passed noxious wind. "And if you don't buy me lunch tomorrow, I'll freaking kill you, loser."

Media Enjoy 'Graze Day' on White House Lawn

WASHINGTON, D.C.—Although the so-called "People's House" has been closed to most Americans for months due to sequestration, select members of the media were invited today to spend the afternoon grazing on the front lawn of the White House.

"Let me be clear, " President Barack Obama said as he watched representatives from PBS, MSNBC, CNN, and other well-known media outlets transform the lush, taxpayer-watered grass of the White House's front yard into cud. "What the media are doing here today benefits the country on two levels. Firstly, they are doing a bang-up job of distracting the average American from the 'phony scandals' my administration is getting away with right under their ignorant noses. And second of all, the media are keeping my lawn neatly trimmed in the greenest, most eco-friendly way possible. I believe kudos are in order."

As the handful of bipedal folks in attendance applauded politely, President Obama donned a Callaway Golf cap, then tossed his microphone to first lady Michelle Obama.

"Like Barry said, we're eternally grateful to the media for having our back," Mrs. Obama said, stroking the wooly coats of a pair of media members. "Rachel and Chris here have been especially useful. Do either of you have anything to say?"

"Baa," replied Rachel.

"Baa," agreed Chris.

"Excellent," said Mrs. Obama, giving her friends a tender pat atop the head. "Enjoy that tasty grass. It may be showing up on your local elementary school's lunch menu, whether you like it or not."

While Rachel and Chris gorged themselves on grass, Mrs. Obama attempted to coax a shy little sheep to join in the festivities.

"Come on, Alan," the first lady said gently. "I know you're feeling left out of the picture since you lost your cash cow, but Barry and I still love you. You may be just a tiny widdle guy, but I bet you would be great at fertilizing this big ol' lawn. Almost as good as the others."

To Mrs. Obama's delight, Alan eagerly took his place beside Rachel and Chris.

Biden Surprises Indianans With Unscheduled Visit

INDIANAPOLIS, IN—Although White House officials long ago accustomed themselves to Vice President Joe Biden's seemingly weekly gaffes, even veteran staff members were stunned to learn that Mr. Biden had mistakenly shown up at Indianapolis International Airport yesterday, literally half a world away from his expected destination—New Delhi, India.

"Aw, man!" Mr. Biden said when informed of his error. "They texted me to go to the capital of India, but I read it too fast and ended up in the wrong damn place. Must've been distracted by that hot chick at the ticket counter in D.C."

"Aw, man!" the vice president elaborated.

Baggage handler Rodney Emerson encountered the disoriented Biden in Concourse B, alternating between staring blankly at his boarding pass, then staring blankly at the "Arrivals" monitor.

"Dude looked like the Vice President of Lost-as-Hell, so I took pity on him and steered him to the nearest bar," Mr. Emerson said, smiling and shaking his head. "Once he got a Natty Light in him and relaxed a bit, I explained to him exactly where he went wrong."

"It took a minute for me to get what Rodney was saying," Biden said, "but then the ol' light bulb in the attic went on. Turns out the next flight that would get me to Indi-A wasn't leaving for another twelve hours. Luckily, Rodney was just getting off his shift, so he showed me around town a little."

"It was actually pretty cool," Mr. Emerson said. "Joe said he was supposed to see Indians play cricket, so I took him to Victory Field to watch the Indianapolis Indians play good ol' American baseball. Then he was going on and on about that hot curry stuff they have in India, so I took him to Skyline Chili. Close enough, right? When he started talking about sacred cows, I just took him seven miles outside downtown and showed him some damn cows on a farm. Three-for-three, baby."

Despite Mr. Emerson's help, The Midwest Ledger can report that Mr. Biden missed his flight to Bangalore, India, and is currently wandering around Bangor International Airport in Maine.

Tiny Elephant Suffers From Humanitis

CONWAY, AR—Even as a child, circus master Petros Gregoros sought comfort among the so-called freaks and throw-aways of the animal kingdom. He found the tabby cats and golden retrievers kept as pets by his schoolmates hopelessly mundane, preferring instead to spend time playing with and caring for furry and feathered friends endowed with a bit more panache.

"My first pet was a two-headed rattlesnake I found in the bushes near my family's home in the old country," Mr. Gregoros said as he watched a crew of itinerant drunkards and mental patients load a menagerie of nightmarish animals into the back of a U-Haul truck. "Since then, I have had an affinity for the more unusual beings among us. That explains, I'm sure, my love for Toby."

Toby is the main attraction of Mr. Gregoros' "Museum of the Monumentally Morbid," a traveling exhibit of deformed and misshapen animals Mr. Gregoros has collected during his 57 years on this planet. Toby also happens to be an elephant the size of chicken.

"Toby is normal in every way, except that he is approximately a thousand times smaller than a so-called 'healthy' elephant. After many years of consulting veterinarians who specialize in exotic animals, I have found that Toby suffers from humanitis. However, he is a trouper and he has not missed a show due to illness or injury in over a decade."

Humanitis is the polar opposite of elephantitis, which afflicts a small portion of the human population.

"Usually, elephantitis is seen in the genitals of human males," Mr. Gregoros graphically elaborated. "I know you remember the black-and-white pictures of tribal guys with 150-pound scrotums. Personally, I think that would be briefly exhilarating, but ultimately horrifying. Toby's genitals are just fine, though they are a little on the small side, even considering his diminutive stature."

Mr. Gregoros reports Toby has many other human-like attributes including a propensity for needless violence, a tendency to not call females back after a one-night stand, and, ironically, a poor memory.

EPA Sues Sherwin-Williams Over Logo

WASHINGTON, D.C.—Newly-confirmed Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) director Gina McCarthy wasted little time making her presence felt today as she filed a $100 million federal lawsuit against Sherwin-Williams Paints. The news was included as part of the Obama administration's Friday night "document dump," a weekly act some believe is used to quell media coverage of events that could be considered controversial.

"I wanted to get the stone rolling right away, so to speak," said Mrs. McCarthy, a matronly mother of three, at a hastily-assembled press conference outside her office. "That utterly horrid Sherwin-Williams logo has haunted my dreams since the day I first gazed upon it as a child." Mrs. McCarthy took a moment to dab at her eyes with an Earth-friendly, hypoallergenic hemp tissue before continuing.

"First of all, the red paint pouring over the planet looks like blood. Ironically, real blood, even human blood, would be much more eco-positive from an Earth Mother-centric point of view. Gaia herself weeps tears of bitumen every time a diesel-powered truck delivers those toxic cans of carcinogens to each of Sherwin-Williams' 4,000 convenient locations. We at the EPA, green as we are, feel that they should pay for their sins with good old-fashioned American cash."

The Midwest Ledger contacted Sherwin-Williams CEO Christopher M. Conner as he dined with his family at a bistro in downtown Cleveland, where his 147-year-old company was founded and is still headquartered.

"You kidding me?" Mr. Conner asked as he wiped the remnants of a 24-ounce T-bone from his face before lighting a Macanudo Gold Label cigar. "That broad's barely finished watching her employee-orientation videos and she thinks she can—A hundred mil? Oh, hell no. It's on."

At press time President Obama was unable to comment on the situation as he was busy instructing his servants on how to properly load Air Force One for his family's upcoming taxpayer-funded vacation in Martha's Vineyard.

Obama Urges Calm in Wake of Zimmermann Decision

WASHINGTON, D.C.—Following days of angry protests in the streets of several American cities and days of inexplicable silence from the White House, President Barack Obama today finally addressed the media at length regarding his feelings on the Zimmermann decision handed down several days ago.

"Let me be clear," the president said to the press corps assembled in the Rose Garden. "When National League All-Star manager Bruce Bochy elected to replace injured pitcher Jordan Zimmermann with another pitcher on the roster instead of selecting a power hitter, I was just as astonished and upset as you were."

While the reporters in attendance murmured amongst themselves in confusion, Mr. Obama continued.

"Even a questionable 'sports fan' such as myself knew, with just a simple glance at the National League's lineup, that they were going to need a big bat to offset the powerful American League lineup. Factor in the A.L.'s outstanding relief pitching, and, well, I think we can all agree that the Zimmermann decision was simply inexcusable. However, I reject any call for violence sparked by this incident.

"On the other hand," Obama elaborated, "how much happier would the nation have been if Yasiel Puig was coming up with two runners on in the bottom of the ninth? Unfortunately, I have to lay the majority of the blame of the disappointing Zimmermann decision squarely at the feet of Bruce Bochy. Sleep well tonight, Bruce."

As Obama left to board Air Force One en route to Martha's Vineyard, Rev. Al Sharpton demanded that all future All-Star roster changes be approved by the chairman of the World Baseball Classic.

"Also," Sharpton added, "I think we all know what that extra 'N' in Zimmermann's name stands for."

In related news, the A.L. topped the N.L. 3-0 in the 84th Mid-Season Classic.

Ashley Judd Begins Roller Derby Career

LEXINGTON, KY—Actress and activist Ashley Judd thought long and hard about what her next step would be after announcing her decision not to run against Kentucky senator Mitch McConnell in the 2014 election. Though she stated publicly that she wanted to spend more time with her family, the original love of her life—professional roller derby—quickly wooed her to the rink.

"I have to admit, I didn't put up much of a fight," Judd said around a mouthful of fried chicken as she watched her Rollergirls of Central Kentucky teammates practice at Sanders Arena in downtown Lexington. "Putting on a few extra pounds was the hardest part. But it's essential to my role as a blocker."

Smashley Thudd, the moniker her fellow Rollergirls bestowed upon Judd following her transformation from slim leading-lady to bruising 220-pound blocker, says her family supports her decision unequivocally.

"They were surprised, of course," Ms. Thudd said, wiping cherry pie filling from her greasy mouth. "But it's not like Hollywood's knocking down my door these days. Hell, I'm 45. Not young enough for the Young-Mother-In-Peril roles anymore, not old enough for the Elder-Stateswoman roles. But I've harbored this unrequited love for roller derby ever since I watched it as a little girl back in the Seventies. So I figured, 'What the hell.' Better do it while I'm still physically capable."

As Thudd donned her elbow pads, knee pads, and finally, her helmet, a warm smile set her face aglow.

"You know what?" she said as she joined her teammates on the rink. "I truly feel like this is the role I was born to play. Well, until Lifetime calls and offers me the lead in their Rosie O'Donnell docudrama."

'Baseball Digest' Publishes First 'Porn Issue'

EVANSTON, IL—As part of its ongoing effort to remain relevant in the increasingly-titillating world of sports publications, Baseball Digest today released its inaugural "Porn Issue," which features some of the game's best players engaged in hot, sweaty coitus with ballgirls, groupies, and even their own wives.

"Now, don't get the wrong idea," Baseball Digest editor Bob Kuenster said in a telephone interview with The Midwest Ledger. "I'm not a total sicko. I'm not going to show, say, Mike Trout climaxing on the face of one of his many adoring female fans, or Miguel Cabrera giving a Cleveland Steamer to some skank in the parking lot of Comerica Park. I wanted to keep this thing all classy-like."

Inspired to push the envelope following the success of Sports Illustrated's ubiquitous Swimsuit Issue and ESPN: The Magazine's popular "The Body" Issue, Kuenster justified his decision to publish photographs of baseball players engaged in hardcore sex in his 70-plus year-old magazine.

"I'm paid to make the publication money," Kuenster said matter-of-factly. "Sports Illustrated's swimsuit issue is iconic. Well, it was before the Internet, anyway. And that ESPN body thing just said, 'Screw it. See-through bikinis ain't edgy enough. Let's take off all their clothes.' How was I supposed to compete with that? I had to take it to the next level."

Mr. Kuenster went on to explain that the issue depicts "no penetration or bodily fluids, just some tits and ass."

In a related story, Equestrian Quarterly announced that its first-ever "Bestiality Issue" will be going to press next week.

Biden Doubles National Debt Following Ill-Advised Wager

LAS VEGAS, NV—While President Barack Obama is busy spending millions upon millions of taxpayer dollars vacationing in Africa, Vice President Joe Biden is touring a wholly different hot, sandy, ruthlessly violent locale. Las Vegas, Nevada.

"When the cat's away, the mice will play," Mr. Biden said, cackling as he distributed a stack of $10,000,000 chips haphazardly atop a roulette table in Hooters Casino. "Bill and Molly get it," Biden added, draping his arms over the shoulders of a voluptuous middle-aged woman and her clearly pissed-off husband. "Hell, the boss is back in South America visiting his home country, so I figured this would be the perfect chance to unwind."

Mr. Biden and his new friends looked on as the croupier scraped $2.7 billion worth of chips off the table.

"Damn!" Biden exclaimed. "I should probably quit while we're only $17 trillion in the hole."

"Nobody win, nobody win," replied the croupier. "Better luck next time." She gave the roulette wheel another mighty spin, dropped the ball along its edge, then stared intently at the former senator from Delaware.

Biden stared right back, as if sizing up the 4'10" Filipina mother of five.

"You know what?" Biden said as the wheel began to spin more and more slowly. "Let it ride. All of it. I want $17 trillion dollars more on four. Hell, it's the Fourth of July. America's destined to win!"

The croupier glanced at her pit boss, who quickly nodded in return, approving the bet.

Vice President Biden downed the rest of his can of Natural Light, his eyes never leaving the roulette wheel. "Come on," he whispered as the white marble dropped into its final resting place.

"Nobody win again," the croupier announced. "No four. Double zero. Double zero."

"Whatever," Biden said, tossing his empty beer can onto the floor. "Ain't my money anyway."