Ex­tra! Ex­tra! More inkwor­thies.

The Washington Post Sunday - - DIVERSIONS - BY PAT MY­ERS

The Em­press is just get­ting back from va­ca­tion, so this week she’s of­fer­ing some ex­tra hon­or­able men­tions from sev­eral re­cent con­tests. The Losers be­low who didn’t al­ready get ink in those con­tests will get Loser mag­nets when the E catches up with the prizes. They will wait pa­tiently. FROM WEEK 1223, a con­test in which en­trants wrote mis­lead­ingly juicy (though tech­ni­cally true) head­lines for real non-juicy ar­ti­cles in this and other pa­pers:

OHIO MAN TO MISS WORK AF­TER AT­TACK­ING PEN­GUIN WITH STICK

NHL’s Colum­bus Blue Jack­ets’ Matt Calvert sus­pended af­ter hit­ting Pitts­burgh player (Kevin Dopart, Wash­ing­ton)

SCHOOL OF­FI­CIALS AIM SHOTS AT CHIL­DREN, HIT TAR­GETS

Manda­tory vac­ci­na­tion pro­gram in­creases Cal­i­for­nia’s im­mu­niza­tion rate (Mark Raffman, Reston, Va.)

WILL OUR GALAXY EX­PLODE?

Sam­sung’s new­est phones to be re­leased (Drew Ben­nett, West Plains, Mo.)

TRUMP SENDS SEC­RE­TARY TO HOLO­CAUST CEN­TER

Rex Tiller­son and fam­ily tour mu­seum (Karen Van Buren, Los Al­tos, Calif., a First Of­fender)

NSA AGENTS MAKE MI­CROSOFT EM­PLOY­EES TAKE LEAKS OUT OF WIN­DOWS

Agency ad­dressed Win­dows 10 se­cu­rity flaws (Ed­ward Gor­don, Austin)

LO­CAL CHIL­DREN OR­DERED TO SEARCH FOR FOOD AMONG DEADLY TOOLS, DAN­GER­OUS CHEM­I­CALS

Hard­ware store hosts Easter egg hunt (Frank Osen, Pasadena, Calif.)

STUNNING DE­TAILS OF HANGINGS IN UP­SCALE HO­TELS EX­POSED

Guests dis­cover su­per-lux­u­ri­ous bathrobes in clos­ets (Jeff Con­tom­pa­sis, Ash­burn, Va.)

From Week 1224,

in which we pre­sented a list of items and asked you to tell us how any two were the same or dif­fer­ent: The dif­fer­ence be­tween an in­ten­tional walk and a flight on United Ex­press: One gets a man on base and the other gets a man on face. (An­nette Green, Lex­ing­ton, Va.) A re­sponse by Sean Spicer is like the April the gi­raffe cam: Af­ter you’ve waited days and days for some­thing worth­while, the cam­era shuts off. (War­ren Tan­abe, An­napo­lis) The dif­fer­ence be­tween lunch with Mike Pence and World War III is that women can par­tic­i­pate in World War III. (John Hutchins, Sil­ver Spring, Md.)

From Week 1230,

di­a­logues or mono­logues por­tray­ing a Cre­ator’s thought process while cre­at­ing var­i­ous crea­tures: Cre­at­ing crabs: GOD: Imag­ine a cross be­tween a gi­ant scor­pion and a spi­der. AN­GEL: This should be good. GOD: It eats garbage but tastes de­li­cious. AN­GEL: Look at you! Mr. IRONY! (Frank Mann, Wash­ing­ton) Cre­at­ing hu­mans: GOD: You what? AN­GEL: We al­ready made some­thing in your im­age. Re­mem­ber? You called it a parame­cium. GOD: Okay, but this next one will be al­lowed to think it’s My im­age. (Ken Gal­lant, Oslo) Cre­at­ing fire­flies: GOD: Re­mem­ber when I di­vided light from dark­ness? AN­GEL: Yeah, it was ear­lier this week. GOD: Makes it kind of hard to read at night. AN­GEL: I got this left­over jar you could fill with some­thing. (Jeff Con­tom­pa­sis, Ash­burn, Va.) Cre­at­ing snails: AN­GEL: Hey, what should we do with this left­over gar­lic but­ter? GOD: I think I have just the thing . . . (Mark Raffman) Cre­at­ing birds: Make ’em poop out their ba­bies in­side ping-pong balls. (War­ren Tan­abe, An­napo­lis) Cre­at­ing the Bos­ton ter­rier: GOD: I can’t tell which is the back and which is the front. AN­GEL: What if I make it snort a lot? DOG: Pfft. AN­GEL: Okay, so snort­ing won’t help . . . (War­ren Tan­abe)

From Week 1154,

par­o­dies about an­i­mals: My Florida Things

(to “My Fa­vorite Things”) Here in the trop­ics, we’ve got us some crit­ters Might give the pet lover jus­ti­fied jit­ters. Pythons with coils and an­hin­gas with wings: These are a few of my Florida things. You’d have good rea­son to ques­tion my san­ity If I leashed up a lugubri­ous mana­tee. Or a flamingo — they won’t fetch or beg; Just stand around in the pond on one leg. Don’t want a tor­toise or an ar­madillo: They’re not the sort one would use for a pil­low. And if I took in some ga­tors or crocs, I’d be a schnook with her head full of rocks. If you wanna friend this fauna, I sup­pose you can . . . But one crit­ter here can’t be taught, trained, or tamed: The in­fa­mous Florida Man! (Nan Reiner, Boca Ra­ton, Fla.) The Cat Song

(to “The Jet Song”) When you’re a cat, you’re the king of the house! Ev­ery crea­ture knows that, Ev­ery dog, ev­ery mouse. When you’re a cat you’re the lord of the realm Ev­ery hu­man knows that It’s a cat at the helm. It’s been you all along, the law re­mains un­writ­ten; They’ve heeded your song since you were just a kit­ten. Bizarrely smit­ten! When you’re a cat and you en­ter a room They all know where it’s at, they all know who owns whom They all KNOW WHO KNOWS WHOM. (Kel Nagel, Sal­is­bury, Md.)

From Week 1219,

faux-medieval “lik the bred” po­ems: My name, Ivanka. Mark this thynge: I aim to make My Daddy Kynge. I knoweth well He be a clowne. I knock him off. I seize the crowne. (Nan Reiner) I’m Kim Jong Un. I have no qualms At off­ing un­cles, Test­ing bombs, Yet now it re­ally Chafes my butt, Folks look at Trump; They fear that nut. (Dun­can Stevens, Vi­enna, Va.) Still run­ning — dead­line Mon­day night, Aug. 1: our con­test for al­lit­er­a­tive head­lines. See wapo.st/in­vite1237.

Don’t call them ten­ta­cles. They’re arms. Okay, these would be fin­gers.

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