12/8/2025

By Chet Weatherly

It seems R’lyeh Francis Kennedy Jr. isn’t the only Elder God with cosmic powers. In a grand display of affection that some are calling “deeply troubling,” Donald Trump accepted a new peace prize created by the FIFA soccer organization. Yes, that’s right, soccer, not futbal, soccer. And yes, also, soccer peace prize. You heard all of that right.

Unbeknowst to the FIFA organization, their peace prize, built and crafted by Chinese slave labor, is based on an ancient and forgotten totem recovered from the lost city of Carcosa.

Fortunately for me, I was standing next to Giorgio A. Tsoukalos who was on hand to provide insight. You may know him as the host and producer of Ancient Aliens on History channel. The good producer had been keeping an eye on the development of this ancient totem after a signal he recieved directly to his brain stem; which he claimed was a direct result of an alien abduction.

Unfortunately, the president took no questions after being given the prize.

Never detered, the news team packed into a small Vista Cruiser and hurried to catch Donald Trump’s motorcade, hoping to ask the president some pressing questions, like, “What exactly did you do to deserve a peace price?” and, “Why does FIFA make peace prizes now?” and also, “Since when is FIFA peaceful, didn’t they start the Football War?” (Yes, actually a thing, look it up)

As luck would have it the president pulled his motorcade through a nearby McDonald’s, giving us a chance to ask those tough questions.

And that was when it happened.

The president, holding his trophy out the window while accepting his three quarterpounders with cheese, opened a whirling vortex into an abysmal realm, thereby sucking the McDonald’s and everyone working there into a plain of pain and torment which will last for five thousand years.

Thankfully, the handoff was completed and the president recieved his three quarterpounders with cheese. Otherwise, he might not have been so willing to speak with us.

“Yes, Mr. President, aren’t you the least bit worried about this whirling vortex that you see behind us?”

Toupee flapping in the screaming breeze, the president took a bite of his sandwich and proceeded to explain. “No. Not even a little bit. It’s like Covid, you know, these things tend to sort themselves out. I’m sure this whirling vortex thingy will be gone by next Christmas.”

“But sir, don’t you see how this spiralling storm of pain and anguish is contrary to your so-called peace agenda?”

“No, I don’t, and you know what, you’re stupid, you’re a stupid person who is stupid.” The president then devoured the last of his quarterpounder, crumpled the bag, and threw it at my forehead.

Peaceful, indeed.