Is your Butch really a bitch?

Los Angeles-High in the Hollywood hills way above the smog, celebrity and gang shootings that plague most residents of the sprawling chaos of Los Angeles, Joyce Faffendecker has a problem.
From all outward appearances Mrs Faffendecker seems to be the embodiment of the American dream, but as she told me over iced tea on the terrace by her pool, appearances can be deceptive "You're right a casual observer would agree with you, I have a perfect husband and a lovely home, I raised two great kids and can honestly say that for the last twenty years I have been blissfully happy."

So what is the cloud threatening to engulf Joyce's rockwellian idyll of prosperous Americana?

Joyce placed her manicured nails to her taut impeccably botoxed forehead and on the verge of tears she began to tell me the tragic story of her dog Butch.
"When the children left for college, Marty, my husband suggested we get a dog to give me something to focus my love and attention on. I was delighted because I always thought a dog would really be the ultimate accessory especially if we got a beige one, because a beige one would go with any outfit.
So anyway, eventually Marty finds this guy in the city who breeds San Fransisco setters and he buys one for me and let me tell you it was love at first sight!
I was wearing an off the shoulder purple and green Versace catsuit from the new fall collection and that cute little puppy dog immediately made it look not just ten but probably twenty thousand dollars more expensive, not only that as soon as I placed him on my sofa you could have easily mistaken him for a cushion, he was that perfect!"

Mrs Faffendecker's unconfined joy was to be short lived though, as she soon discovered Butch had some worrying habits.
"It's not something I could put my finger on straight away but he was definitely 'different' he wouldn't play ball and actually seemed averse to all sporting activity, he wouldn't even hump my leg even after I let my neighbour's in season bitch Doberman pee up it!
Something was definitely wrong with Butch.
We kind of struggled along with him hoping he would change and to tell the truth as an accessory he was fine but deep down I knew he was not happy inside, but I just didn't know why."

Joyce's moment of epiphany was to come six months later in the unlikely setting of a neighbour's
glitzy charity event in aid of badly dressed African orphans.
"So there I was in the most gorgeous silver Gucci caftan nibbling the caviar canapes and chatting
to one of the organizers about how dreadful it is that these kids have to wear mostly non designer, unbranded apparel, when this woman walks straight over to me and says 'Your dog is not happy.'
Well let me tell you, you could have knocked me over with a feather! I hadn't told anyone about Butch's problems and here was this total stranger telling me about it!
It turns out that she was Ida Lupino, the world famous pet psychic, she looked me straight in the eyes and said your dog isn't happy because he wants to be a female, he feels he was born in the wrong body and will never be happy until he is a bitch.
Well as you can imagine I was devastated and shocked by the news but deep down I knew she was right and all the pieces began to fall into place, his insistence on a silk doggy basket, his love of cashmere and of course his very effeminate walk. It was as though God himself had come down from his God cloud and said Joyce your dog wants to be a bitch and it's your mission in life to help him achieve his dream."

After the initial shock of Ida Lupino's trans-gender diagnosis Mrs Faffendecker knew that the only possible course of action she could take was help butch fulfill his dream to become a bitch.
"Well at first Marty and me were at a loss on how we could help him. I mean it's not the kind of problem that suggests an immediate solution.
It was a few weeks after his psychic diagnosis that Marty run into a guy who knew of a cosmetic veterinary surgeon named Dr Remy Martinez, who had a reputation around town as a master of the scalpel, he did Speilberg's chihuahua's face lift.
Anyway we took Butch to see Dr Martinez and after twenty minutes of squeezing his testicles and calling him Bitch dog, I guess to gauge his reactions, I don't know I'm not medically trained, he said 'Su pero es una puta!'
Well that was all the confirmation I needed and after wiping the tears from my face, I said Dr Remy, I don't care what it costs or how excruciatingly painful it is! I want you to give Butchie his dream and make him a bitch."

Joyce and Dr Martinez eventually gave Butch his life long dream and six months on from his surgery Joyce feels that she made the right decision and claims to have seen a massive difference in the dog they now call Marcy.
"She is like a different animal since Dr Remy gave her a vagina, before Butch would just sit in the corner all day forlornly licking his testicles but now when Marcy goes to lick that area and realises her dream has finally come true she just sits there and howls and cries in gratitude.
I just thank God that I have an interest in badly dressed African orphans or else Marcy would never have been able to live her dream and become the dog she always should have been."

Mouse club

Leeds-RSPCA officials in the northern city of Leeds are tonight warning promoters and practitioners of the gruesome new sport of mouse boxing that they are willing to prosecute all participants to the full extent of the law.

Officials first became aware that mouse fights were taking place in the city when the battered bodies of defeated mice began turning up on the city's streets.
At first city health officials assumed the tiny rodents had died of cat related trauma but that soon changed when one young mouse was found struggling up the steps of the city's RSPCA office
covered in tiny bruises, wearing gloves and a flimsy head protector made from the cap of a one litre Coke bottle.

Siegfried Sassoon of the RSPCA'S elite mouse protection unit told me of the troubling rise in gladiatorial mouse combat "I've been with the RSPCA for over forty years now. When I first started on the job you would hardly see mouse fighting it was mostly cock fighting, but since they changed the laws on what two consenting adult males can do in the privacy of their own homes that is no longer the business of the RSPCA.
The majority of these fights are held in isolated lock ups or the back rooms of pubs, the really vicious thing about these fights is that there are no rules and the furry contestants are made to fight to the bitter end.
You wouldn't think a mouse punch could do a lot of damage, but it's all relative and I defy anyone to take the kind of punishment these little fellows take over a six hour period and then tell me it's a harmless sport, it's just barbaric."

In the past three years more than forty men from the Leeds area have been arrested and handed custodial sentences ranging from six months to seven years for varying degrees of involvement within this rapidly growing subculture.

News direct decided to send me undercover into the seedy world of mouse fighting to see how much I could uncover about this most gruesome of sports.
I let it be known among the pubs and clubs of the dangerous Chapeltown area of Leeds that I was a big fish in the London mouse world, up from the smoke with a furry young prospect in dire need of the right kind of training.

It was not long after putting the word out on the street that I was approached by an associate of Reggie Braithwaite, who is known throughout the city as the Don king of the unlicenced mouse fighting world.
The associate let it be known that Braithwaite was amenable to taking a look at my young prospect if I agreed to abide by Braithwaite's strict security precautions and also give the associate two pounds sixty five, so he could buy ten cigarettes, I of course willingly agreed to these terms.
I was then blindfolded, bundled into a car and taken by a convoluted route to Braithwaite's illegal mouse gym, which I later found out was located above a run down pet shop called Mickey's, in the Chapeltown area of the city.

The unmistakable stench of mouse sweat hit my nostrils immediately and even before they removed my dirty blindfold, I knew that this was a very serious operation.
When they did eventually remove my blindfold the sight that greeted my shocked eyes will remain with me to my dying day. There were mice everywhere, mice in hamster wheels, mice on specially made little bikes, mice lifting weights and there at the centre of all this frenzied activity stood the portly, gold covered figure of Reggie Braithwaite.

Braithwaite beckoned me over, he was stood before a miniature boxing ring made from a shoe box and string, watching two young mice spar.
"Looks like that little bloke will be a champion one day." he said pointing a fat finger at the heavily muscled tiny athlete dancing Ali like around the small ring.
"My associate tells me you have a young prospect you want me to look at."
I nodded and removed the mouse, which I had bought earlier for twenty five pence from a reputable pet shop, from my jacket pocket and handed him delicately to Braithwaite.
Braithwaite took him from me and cast an expert eye over the light brown prospect "Not bad, he's a little skinny, but six weeks in the gym should sort that out, It wont be cheap though you want the best you have got to pay for the best."
I assured Braithwaite that money was no object and inquired as to what it would cost me to turn my mouse into a champion.
Braithwaite hung the mouse upside down from its tail and said "Looking at him, I think I could have him ready for his first fight in around six months, if he comes through that okay, you'd be looking at anything from a year to two years before he would be ready to fight for a championship, I'll do it for six quid, cash mind!"
I told Braithwaite that I would have to speak to my backers and the mouse's co-owners before we could agree to that sort of time commitment and financial outlay, I then asked to be escorted from the premises.

After my shocking introduction to the world of unlicenced mouse fighting it is easy to see why the local authorities are trying their utmost to stamp out this brutal sport.
I passed all the information gathered during my investigation on to the local RSPCA and was later pleased to learn that armed RSPCA officers had raided Braithwaite's gym and rescued over two thousand mice from a short and brutal life as rodent warriors.

Lost among the saved

Colorado springs-The American people are a deeply religious people in a way that is alien and unsettling to most Europeans.
Ever since the founding fathers included the right to religious freedom into the constitution, America has been rightly known as a haven from religious persecution.
From the early English Puritans to the electricity phobic Dutch Amish, the unjustly persecuted have fled across the cold, storm tossed seas and into the welcoming arms of a tolerant American society.

Recent developments within the religious fabric of the United States are giving some commentators reason to reassess America's supposed religious tolerance, with many now claiming that they are beginning to see the early signs of a Christian theocracy developing within this once tolerant bastion of democracy.

News direct decided to travel to the heart of this new religious phenomena and talk to some of the people involved in the powerful evangelical movement.
Colorado springs, sixty three miles from the Colorado state capital of Denver, is fast becoming known as "Jesus town, USA" due to the vast numbers of churches and Evangelicals that have relocated to the city in recent years.
I had arranged to meet one of the city's most talked about and charismatic preachers and have him explain the concepts and maybe some of the theology behind this huge new movement, that by some recent estimates is said to comprise over eighty million adherents.

Pastor Williams is a handsome man and as he glided easily through his church's plush multi million dollar office to greet me, I had a sense that this was a man not to be taken lightly.
After damaging three of my fingers in the manliest handshake I had ever received, I asked the grey haired pastor to tell me a little bit about his faith and his huge congregation
"You a Christian son? Thought not the Lord always shines a light on the non believer so as we the saved can bring you his message of peace and forgiveness. You want to know what my ministry is about? Well thats it, it's about saving wretched sinners like yourself from the eternal damnation and fiery wrath of of Satan's kingdom and delivering them into the loving arms of our lord and saviour Jesus christ!"
As the pastor said this the ten previously oblivious people working behind him on the office computers all raised their heads and shouted "Hallelujah in Jesus name let it be so!"

Somewhat taken aback by the the impromptu revivalist meeting, I was momentarily at a loss for words and sensing my weakness the stiletto eyed pastor took the opportunity to pepper me with moral questions "You a gayasexual boy? Do you commit the foul sin of man on man brown love?"
After managing to shake my head and deny any previous hot man action, I asked pastor Williams if bum action was the worst sin one could commit.
He looked at me slowly eying me up and down as if still making his mind up about my questionable sexuality and said "Brown love is a mortal sin yes, but sin can not be ranked a sin is a sin is a sin, you understand that boy?"

The pastor relaxed a little, smiled and said quietly but firmly while locking me with a solid gaze "Muslims."
"Pardon?"
"Muslims son! That damn idolatrous belief that some foul Bedouin carpetbagger could claim to speak for our lord is a filthy dirty outrageous lie and the diseased propagators of this filthy slur deserve the full weight of the American military machine to be brought down righteously upon their filthy heathen heads! In Jesus name let it be so!"
The pastor's statement was greeted with another loud chorus of fervent hallelujahs from his devoted and attentive staff.

After the last statement the pastor stood and, after mangling my fingers once more, announced that the interview was now over but as he strode purposefully away he turned back to me and said "We are having a 'let's bomb Iran' rally tomorrow, I'd love to see you there, maybe we can send to those mad mullahs a firm message that we wont accept anything in this world except total love, peace and understanding!"
And with those parting words the pastor disappeared amid another joyous chorus of heartfelt hallelujahs.

Meeting the pastor gave me a new found respect for the ideals of the evangelical movement and has since prompted me to seriously consider joining this burgeoning movement, because after all every one hates Gays and Muslims don't they?

IQ for CPU?

Washington D.C-In an audacious move designed to clear the Internet of it's less than genius subscribers, the US government has announced that from June 2008 all consumers wishing to buy a new computer must first apply for a PC license, which will then be awarded on the successful completion of a basic IQ test.

The radical move comes amid high level concerns that the millions of semi normal Americans cluttering the Internet are adding enormously to the nation's already battered image.
The President is said to be so concerned by the problem that he has publicly stated that he himself will now avoid computers, it is of course a token gesture but many feel this simple act could raise the IQ level of the web by at least ten per cent.

In an after dinner speech attended by Microsoft tyrant Bill Gates, the President said "When I was growing up we didn't have those computery box things and so I didn't feel the need to tell the world what I had for my breakfast and how painful it is being the son of a famous father, I just mostly drank and screwed hookers, that was how I dulled the pain of my existence.
Now I do have one I try stay away from it unless of course I'm reading Prison planet.com or looking at German pissing porn. I urge my fellow Americans to do likewise."

Opposition to the new regulation is already starting to take shape in the form of a protest group called 'Americans for the advancement of the less than normal citizen.'
Keanu Reeves celebrity spokesman for the new pressure group told News direct of his fierce opposition to the proposed computer license "Like whoooa dude, when I like heard it I was like blown away man!
Dude I'm never off my Apple man! I'm like always looking at stuff and talking to other dudes and dudettes. There's no way I'm gonna be able to pass no stupid test. That's why I like became an actor cos I cant do tests, unless it's a screen test!!!
Do you get it? Screen test, I'm an actor man, screen test! That was like major funny dude, screen test! I'm an actor! I was talking about the computer test and then said I cant pass tests unless it's a screen test, get it? I'm an actor!
Anyway dude, I believe this test is wrong man, it's like unamerican to punish stupidity, It's traditional in our great nation to reward stupidity.
So that's why I am against it, screen test you get it! I'm like a famous actor man, screen test!"

Many in Washington feel strong public opposition to the bill will fade over time as people realize
the banishment of mentally challenged citizens from cyberspace would do much to mend the once great nations tattered global image.

Merkel denies titty snaps

Berlin-The Germans are not usually known as a people prone to prudish behaviour and hysteria but the latest political storm to hit Berlin is going a long way to prove those national stereotypes wrong.
Angela Merkel, the German chancellor and head of the ruling CDU party, has sensationally moved to deny claims that topless photographs printed in the popular German news magazine Der Speigel are in fact her.

In a terse statement issued from the Chancellor's office this morning Mrs Merkel said "I can categorically state that those reprehensible photographs purporting to show both my nipples and a tuft of pubic hair are a crude fabrication and I can confirm that I have instructed my lawyers to look into this whole sordid episode."

Dieter Graumann, spokesman for Der Speigel told me earlier today that the magazine stands by its decision to print the photographs and suggests Germany's first female chancellor should be flattered people would want to see her breasts "I don't see what all the fuss is about and why she would want to deny it. The photos are definitely her and seem to have been taken in a multi storey carpark in Hamburg sometime in the late seventies.
They are very tasteful and mostly show the chancellor cupping her large breasts and licking her lips. I could see why she would be upset if they were full on porno, with her spreading her long pussy lips and showing the pink, but to my mind they are very tasteful shots. The one with her licking her pierced nipple is my favourite."

The row looks set to rumble on for a while yet with further denials from Merkel only adding to the prurient nature of the story.
Marcus Hanne an old boyfriend rolled out by the chancellor's office to deny the story only titillated the press further when he declared "Those photo's are definitely not Angie baby, I was her hot sex lover for six years and I can confirm that the chancellor has never had pubic hair due to a rare form of pubic aloepecia, also she does not have her nipples pierced.
She used to say only sluts, whores and American girls had their nipples pierced and was quite content with just her clitoral piercing."

The Chancellor is due to broadcast a live interview on German television next week to absolutely refute the claims but with the situation now approaching critical mass, many feel only the full disclosure of both breasts and a quick flash of the Chancellor's minge will quell the raging media storm.

The Alastair Campbell dairy

London- Samuel Johnson once said 'When a man is tired of London he is tired of life.' and during the ten years of unrelenting lies and spin Blair's Lancashire Machiavelli has subjected us to, many would be forced to agree.
But not once during those grim years of the Blair/Campbell premiership did we ever suspect Campbell would tire of bullying the soft London media and decide to retire to the country.

But it seems we were all wrong about the infamous "Hand up Blair's arse" in a move which will shock many of his victims he announced yesterday that he is quiting the media and returning to Lancashire to run his father's twenty acre dairy farm.
As he told me yesterday by telephone from his new cow filled home "I've had enough of all the bullshit of Westminster and just want to get back to normal life really, are you taping this? Don't fucking lie to me you horrible little shit! I'm telling you now you fucker, if there is one thing in that fucking story that is not true I'll have your balls on a plate!"

When I had fully assured Mr Campbell that I was not taping, but just taking notes he deigned to resume the interview "Yeah as I was saying I'm tired of having to bully and cajole my way through the long days and even during the good times I was always yearning to get back to my roots and live the simple life."
Mr Campbell then went on to tell me his plans for his fathers small isolated dairy "At the moment we are just selling our milk locally, but I want to branch out and start making Mozzarella, my father wasn't to happy to abandon the old ways but I said to him 'Listen up shit head! change or die, this is how I see it and if you don't wanna play ball I'll make you rue the fucking day you slid screaming from your mothers slack hole, we are taking this shit hole global! I want Campbell's Mozzarella on every fucking pizza from here to timbukfuckingtu! Do I make myself clear!'
He of course agreed and we are in the process of ringing people already in the stringy cheese business and warning them there is a new Billy big balls in town."

I then asked Mr Campbell if he would miss the day to day cut and thrust of government life, to which he replied "Ohhh fuck off! I've had enough of this fucking interview, you're trying to make me look a cunt! I'm warning you I know some very serious people, you think If a man like Dr David Kelly can be "suicided" I'd think twice about dealing with a little piss ant like you?"
With that Lancashire's newest farmer slammed down his phone and terminated the interview.

Given Mr Campbell's reputation as a win at all costs hugely testicled alpha male, we here at News direct are betting that the next time you tuck into your favourite margherita there is a good chance it will be covered in Mr Campbell's stringy Lancashire cheese.

The man eating Badgers of Basra

Basra-The body had lain by the side of the pock marked main road for at least three days. Life continued on for in Basra random bodies are a fact of life, merely a nuisance to be stepped around. It was only a week after the local authorities got round to collecting the sun bloated remains that they noticed something rather unusual.
The body did not as expected contain a bullet or indeed a mass of shrapnel as one might expect to find in a victim of western style democracy, but instead bore all the hallmarks of a Badger attack.

For weeks residents of Basra had been complaining of a nocturnal howling and at least three people had contacted local police to report violent incidents involving a Badger like creature.
But police had dismissed the reports as hysterical reactions to the ongoing violence endured by all sections of the now freed from tyranny population.

That was until late last Friday when three men leaving the Mosque after Friday evening prayers were pounced upon by a snarling blood stained badger in full view of over two hundred stunned worshipers.
The men managed to fight off the blood crazed Badger with the help of other believers but were left shocked and bleeding by their black and white encounter.

The story might have stopped there and been filed away along with stories of goat suckers and UFO's had it not been for an eagle eyed Imam, who happened to see the badger make his escape and noticed that a small patch of shaved hair on the badgers behind contained the unmistakable tattoo of a union jack flag.
The Imam immediately called residents to an emergency meeting at the mosque and told angry residents the awful truth that the murderous plagues of badgers were being released by British forces to strike terror into the hearts of a restless population.

This accusation has led to angry mobs descending on the local British outpost for flag burnings and angry chants of "Badgers go home!"
All assurances to local leaders concerning the lack of British involvement in Badger terror has so far failed to assuage the anger felt within the vast Shia community.

As military spokesman Major Mike Shearer told me "We can categorically state that UK forces have not, I repeat have not released man eating badgers into the Basra area."
What makes local people wary of accepting Major Shearer's assurances of a badger free area is the well attested to fact that the British army was known to have used combat badgers during their vicious entanglement in Northern Ireland in the late nineteen eighties.

When I asked Major Shearer about the army's previous use of counter insurgency Badgers he denied all knowledge of a special operations unit involving mans most feared nocturnal enemy.
"Absolutely not, I can assure you Badgers have never been part of Her majesty's armed forces and rumors of a secret Badger warfare division are just that, rumors."

Whether these denials of culpability will soothe the explosive atmosphere in Basra remains to be seen but one thing is for certain, if an another attack occurs British forces will certainly have their hands full.

Fast food, a dinner for four?

London-Terry O'Connell is a man on a mission, the thirty six year old farmer from Essex has just unveiled the first of his genetically engineered farm animals which he is hoping will soon grace the nation's dinner tables.
The bird pictured here is named Perhaps Colin
and has been genetically manipulated to produce four tasty legs and so end the typical 'who gets a leg' argument familiar to every family of four.

Speaking to me earlier by telephone from his one hundred acre Essex farm, Mr O'Connell told me how he came up with this revolution in chicken leg technology "I originally developed the birds as racing animals and was intent on setting up a chicken racing circuit similar to the Formula one franchise, but the original backers dropped out due to the bird flu scare and I was left with six thousand four legged racing chickens.
I don't mind telling you this was my lowest ebb and at one point I was very close to bankruptcy, but as the old saying goes every cloud has a silver lining."

Mr O'Connell then went on to tell me how he audaciously snatched victory from the gaping jaws of defeat.
"The breakthrough came when I was really getting desperate, I had spent the day trying to train my fastest chicken, Mottled Jim, to complete a specially designed steeplechase course I'd based on the grand national course at Aintree.
Everything was going well until he came tearing down the course up to the Beecher's brook fence he then totally misjudged the height and came down hard on one of his back legs.
I don't mind telling you, I was in floods of tears when I realized his racing career was over.
It was my wife who suggested we should eat him as a tribute to a career unfulfilled.
It was then during Mottled Jim's tribute dinner that I suddenly realized each one of the four people at the table were chewing on one of Mottled Jim's legs, it was my eureka moment."

Since his eureka moment Mr O'Connell has secured two lucrative supermarket contracts and is in talks with a certain fast food company whom he refuses to name at this present time but did reveal they were very interested in coating some of Mr O' Connell's former athletes in secret spices and seeing how it goes.

Famous British explorer lost

Bangkok-World famous British explorer, writer and bon vivant Sir Marmaduke Malaya is tonight the centre of a massive manhunt focusing on Thailand's famous Pattaya beach resort. Which since his divorce from his third wife Mitzti has been sir Marmaduke's main home.
Sir Marmaduke, famous the world over for his heroic but failed attempt to swim naked from Antarctica to Tierra del fuego, was last seen early Friday evening by his girlfriend Ms Starflower Lon Kok, 17, who has subsequently told the Royal Thai police that sir Marmaduke had told her that he was "Just popping down to the market for lubricant."

Ms Lon Kok then contacted police later that evening when Sir Marmaduke failed to return from the all night sex market and host his regular Friday night soirée.
Police immediately began to comb the famous Pattaya beach resorts bars and clubs in the hope that the world's greatest living explorer had been lured into one of the many bars on his way home and lost track of time.

Sir Marmaduke was a regular sight in some of the resorts seedier bars and could often be seen sat at the bar drinking vodka and Creme de menthe cocktails while regaling tourists and young bar girls with his tales of daring do.
Sir Marmaduke was also said to be particularly fond of watching the local girls trying to outdo each other at the traditional Thai sport of ping pong.

It's believed police are now working on premise that Sir Marmaduke has taken the lucky winner away to celebrate, but are still refusing to rule out suspicious circumstances.
Her majesty Queen Elizabeth has asked the Thai prime minister to keep her informed and this reporter has it on good authority that her majesty is said by palace insiders to be "extremely concerned" as to the greatest living Britons whereabouts.