(SATIRE) U.S. Police launch manhunt for elite Navy Seal

A mysterious and enigmatic figure from the U.S. military, whose true status and identity is classified as Top Secret and unknown even to the President of the United States, has allegedly stepped out of the shadows to embark upon a campaign of harassment against an opponent of the Gamergate movement.

A chilling statement posted online by the anonymous soldier reads:

“What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills.”

A level-14 Google search conducted by MODE 5 confirms that the perpetrator has made similar threats to a number of other internet users since 2012. These missives originate from multiple IPs located in countries spread across the globe, with many issued at the same time from nations separated by 1000 of miles: A phenomena that has led some experts to hypothesise that, supplemental to his military training, the mysterious Navy Seal is also a L33T black hat hacker with a power level in excess of 9000, posting from behind as many as seven proxies.

U.S. Police confirmed to MODE 5 that they are currently investigating an individual who the media have begun to refer to as 'the Sea Lion'.

Sgt Bladderstroke, who is heading up the investigation San Pedro, CA, said:

“It says something about the levels of fear this individual is able to exert over his victims that while this threat is one of thousands to have been made, this is the first time that his criminal activities have been brought to the attention of the police.

“When a criminal mastermind such as the one who we are dealing with here emerges into the light we must act upon the opportunity and do everything within our power to bring them to justice. Frankly this department can't survive another Keyser Söze style fuck-up.”

In a separate press conference given by the head of a dedicated FBI task force Special Agent Niles Sexual-Squier, said:

“I can confirm that the suspect in question has escalated their behaviour from mass murder to online harassment. I can also confirm that this individual is indeed the top sniper in the entire US armed forces and, by his own admission, has been involved in gorilla warfare, literally a one-man war waged against gorillas. If you want to know how that went then ask yourself: When was the last time I saw a gorilla that wasn't in a cage?

“Given the number of kills claimed by the suspect we think it highly unlikely that they will surrender and allow themselves to be taken into custody alive. We would therefore like to take this opportunity to warn of a bloody end to this manhunt with a high body-count and significant collateral damage.

“In addition we believe the suspect to be in control of a global network of spies. It is highly likely that some of these sleeper agents are embedded in the police and the armed forces. Some of my colleagues standing beside me today may well be in the pay of this unstoppable killing machine. However it also likely that this madman's intelligence network extends to workers in stores, cafes and toll booths. We would advise all members of the public to operate under the assumption that nowhere is safe and that sleep is no longer an option, although staying awake is unlikely to help you either.

“Our only hope when facing off against such a formidable opponent is to act in the split second when he decides which of the 700 ways he has been trained to kill a human being he uses on you.

Master Chief Petty Officer Carmichael of the U.S. Navy told Mode 5:

“Although full disclosure of this Navy Seal lies way beyond my security clearance, I can confirm that, by prior arrangement, this individual has been granted access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps.

“Furthermore, on the day prior to this most recent threat, an army warehouse full of small arms and also some larger arms, was emptied in the space of five minutes between guard patrols. Since no vehicle appears to have been used in the heist we can only assume that the 10,000 items of weaponry and ammunition were carried away by hand.”

Military psychologists are still debating whether an expressed intention to “shit fury all over you,” which concludes the threat is a figurative statement, or evidence of coprophiliac tendencies and an underlying sexual motive.

The full transcript of the Navy Seal threat can be read below:. Readers should be advised that the following passage contains distressing imagery and an absolute fuck load of swearing:

“What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I’m the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo.”

Social Justice Warrior false flags now outnumber real flags: A MODE 5 exclusive

For the Gayle family of Brainerd, Minnesota, the home delivery of a brand new American flag is a cherished weekly tradition.

“I don't recall how new flag Tuesdays first came about,” says father of three, Gerry Gayle. “I guess it's because I order a new flag online every Saturday morning and it takes a few days for it to arrive here from the National Flag Certification Depot in Oklahoma. On old flag Sundays the entire family takes a leisurely eight-hour drive down to the flag cemetery in Brandon where the flag from the previous week is buried with full military honours.”

Last year Gerry made the difficult decision to break ties with the mom and pop flag brokers that his family has used for three generations:

“I found out they were using Chinese cotton in their flags. That kind of soured the milk for me.

“We had a family meeting where it was agreed unanimously that, from here-on, we would purchase our flags from a manufacturer located in what we deemed to be the most patriotic American state. In establishing which of the 50 states best deserved this accolade we looked at indicators such as the ratio of bald eagles per person and the number of miracles attributed to sightings of the ghost of Ronald Reagan.”

After much research and discussion, the Gayles elected to buy their American flags from a supplier in South Carolina. However, at the last minute, Gayle vetoed the family vote, and made the unilateral decision to do business with a new flag broker based in San Francisco, California. It was a spur of the moment act that would eventually land him with a criminal record.

“They [the San Franciso-based flag brokers] had a great website. On screen it seemed like a really good deal. In retrospect that should have sent alarm bells ringing. I guess that I saw the money I could save and I let that get ahead of common sense.

“I ordered the flag on Saturday morning after breakfast as per usual. The money disappeared from my bank account immediately and I noticed that a small, previously unmentioned surcharge had been added to the overall cost, but was happy to let it slide.”

It was only after money had changed hands that Gayle began to run into problems with his broker:

“The first flag took several weeks to arrive which meant that we had to keep the old flag around the place for way longer than I was comfortable. I would say that the absolute maximum amount of time that you can keep a flag flying before taking it down and replacing it is a fortnight. I kept this one flying for almost 13 weeks - so long in fact that it was awarded a medal by the National Flag Cemetery for distinguished service and qualified for a basic army pension.

“During that time the broker continued to take money from my bank account for seven-day flag deliveries. I attempted to contact them by phone and by email but nobody ever responded.

“When the flag finally arrived the certification paperwork seemed to be in order. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Then I opened the packaging and that relief turned to despair”:

Old Glory had undergone a dramatic transformation: Gone was the navy blue canton with its regimented galaxy of 50 stars. Vanished too was the orderly field of red and white furrows. In their place was an obnoxious turquoise background bearing the crudely rendered slogan: “Criticism is rape.”

Was this a genuine American flag? Gerry Gayle took it to a close friend, Kyle Glaspy, for an appraisal. Glaspy's long experience of handling American flags includes a level four classification in flag governance, making him one of only 15 technicians in the United States who are qualified to operate flags whose area exceeds 40 square feet.

Glaspy examined the flag and confirmed his friend's suspicions:

“Overall the workmanship was poor. The corners weren't precisely right-angled and the material had ragged edges, as if it had been cut by hand using blunt flag shears or, even worse, with a pair of scissors. There were no eyelets on the top or bottom left-hand corners of the flag to accommodate the snap hooks that would facilitate attachment to the halyard.”

“Kyle and I were both uncomfortable with the overlying message of the flag,” says Gayle.

“I guess America has to move with the times, and far be it from me to stall the march of progress. But the tone seemed like a blatant and unconscionable attack on free speech and therefore counter to the first amendment of the U.S. constitution.”

Following the completion of his inspection Glaspy broke the news to his friend: He had fallen victim to a false flag scam:

“To the layman these false flags can appeared real. Closer inspection you will usually reveal that they embody a set of values very different to those laid down by our great nation's founding fathers, and by the mélange of stateless corporate interests that continue to mould contemporary America.”

The rise in the number of false flags has increased dramatically over the past decade. This upsurge has been driven in part by the growth of the Social Justice movement who use false flags as a means of generating revenue to fund their paramilitary operations both at home and abroad. A proportion of the income produced is put towards the purchase of the chemicals necessary to create a blue pill that turns body hair an obnoxious turquoise colour when ingested, while diminishing powers of logic, empathy and rationality and occasionally causing weight gain.

So why don't the Social Justice Activists go legitimate and produce flags that meet the burgeoning public demand for the good old Stars and Stripes? Glaspy thinks that he knows the answer:

“My guess is that they lack the talent, the skill-set or the dedication to produce quality American flags. All they can create are these turquoise monstrosities”

He holds up a recent example, this one bearing the slogan:

“The damsel in distress trope that currently forms the dominant paradigm in contemporary gaming culture is misogynistic and problematic.”

“You can't imagine anybody wanting to salute that on Veterans Day.”

The story of Gerry Gayle's false flag does not have a happy ending:

“Since we couldn't use the flag for its intended purpose we decided that we would use it as a tablecloth on Thanksgiving,” he says.

Unfortunately for the Gayles a passing sheriff spotted the cloth through the window of their front room and notified the FBI. Hours later law enforcement officers from five separate agencies stormed the Gayle family home. Gerry Gayle was charged with deployment of an illegal tablecloth – an activity classified as an act of domestic terrorism. He was arrested and taken to jail where he was to spend the next four months.

“The proportions and dimensions of the false flag made it inappropriate for use as a tablecloth under current U.S. law,” says Agent Wendy Ross of the FBI homeware division. “Sure you can use it as a tablecloth, in Castro's Cuba maybe, where that kind of thing flies. In America we hold ourselves to a higher standard. Gerry Gayle broke the rules and that's why he went to jail.”

Following a local campaign Gayle's seven year prison sentence was commuted to a 200 hour community service order that saw him picking up trash on Minnesota State Highway 371. He has been banned for life from owning tablecloths and, most humiliating of all, was made to present himself in person at all kitchen and homeware goods stores within a 60 mile radius of his place of residence and inform the management of his criminal status.

“My daddy almost went to prison for seven years. It was scary,” says his youngest daughter, Elaine.

At the time of press Gerry Gayle's ongoing woes were far from over:

“On paper it's illegal for me to retain possession of the false flag but I can't legally dispose of it either. There's a lot of paperwork that needs to be filled in and a lot fences to hurdle before it can be legally burnt. In the interim no one will provide storage so I'm having to keep it on my property, which is in violation of my probation order. My home could be raided and I could be arrested and sent back to jail at any time.”

Does he have a message that he would like to share with other American flag buyers?

“I would urge all patriotic Americans to think very carefully when selecting a flag broker. Do some research into who exactly is selling you the flag. Ask yourselves: who am I dealing with? Do they have a track record for honesty? Are they trustworthy? Are they in the flag business for the love of their country, or are there other less noble motivations in play?”

(SATIRE) London Gamergaters forced a sea lion to play Mario Kart

In an act of counter journalism that will very likely snare MODE 5 the coveted Pulitzer Prize and establish us as a potent online news force, we have intercepted this account of the recent London Gamergate meeting, penned by an anti-GG, Ghazi spy.

This gross misrepresentation of what occurred that night will come as no surprise to those of us whose allegiance to the much maligned Gamergate movement has forever compromised the likelihood of us joining allegedly more moderate (according to Twitter) groups such as ISIS, the KKK, and the 1930s Nazi party.

For the record, nobody painted the sea lion. The purple and green stripes were a fortuitous natural occurrence – the result of the stripy, similarly hued crabs that form the bulk of the animal's diet.

London Gamergaters forced a sea lion to play Mario Kart

By Ghazi reporter

They had travelled to the secret location from all over the UK: Angry, overweight, disenfranchised white men who revel in titles such as “Shitlord”. Their pock-marked skin bleached to a pale and pasty corpse-like pallor from cloistered subterranean existences eked-out in sunless basements. Their fingers stained bright orange with Doritos seasoning. Their-vice like handshakes honed through a punishing hourly regime of unfettered wanking. Their voices thin from under use, or strained from yelling sexually and racially-charged insults across the unfathomable reaches of the internet during 16 hour Call of Duty sessions. Some bore crude, home-made tattoos indicating the number of women they had driven out of videogaming.

On the Northern Line this reporter encountered a 'gater' who identified himself as “Penislife”. I nodded and feigned interest as he described to me the recent adductor extension surgery that allows him to man-spread an additional eight inches (“Done on the fucking NHS mate, didn't pay a fucking penny”). He demonstrated the enhanced reach of his new thigh-span, extending his yawning tracksuit-clad crotch across the two seats on either side of him, unleashing the potent bouquet of Lynx Sports Blast. This flagrant display of testicular bulges was so forthright and unapologetic in its leering masculinity that a number of passengers seated nearby felt compelled to get up and stand by the door.

Penislife added:

“I'm the number one shitlord in the E14 postcode area, mate. I'm number three shitlord in the whole of London. You write that down. You write that down on your fucking little note pad.”

The drinking establishment that played host to the Gamergate contingent had been informed that they would be hosting a gathering of marine sea life enthusiasts, with bar staff unaware that they were in fact serving drinks to a terrorist organisation described on Twitter as being worst than ISIS.

Upon entering, this reporter was reminded by the organisers to brazenly flaunt his privilege and to make full use of his male gaze. At a rowdy table in one corner I witnessed a card game in progress in which the four queens had been removed from the deck. I was told by one player that the Queen cards had been holding back the development of poker for decades and that the introduction of the Queen into chess was the result of a successful Social Justice conspiracy dating back to the 15th century.

Circulating among the boorish crowds of impotent, neck-bearded perma-virgins, were a number of so called 'bitch-gaters', who had been judged subservient and dressed-up in cheap red wigs in a crude approximation of the Gamergate mascot, Vivian James. They dispensed pitchers of a salty cocktail christened Mysogginees, after the similarly-named Greek island, and blended from ingredients that are designed to inflame the sex drive while increasing the physical repellence and obnoxious behaviour of the drinker. 

 

Proceedings opened formally with the gamergate anthem: A crudely-penned rap so lamentable in both rhyme and scansion that its performance in public is categorised as a hate crime under UK law. It opens with the lines:

“We tell the world that it's all about ethics in gaming

Really its about the female gamers and developers who we be shaming”.

New recruits to the movement (described disparagingly as “Piss babies” were lined-up in front of a PS2. Under the withering sardonic gaze of the journalist, Milo Yiannopoulos - a platinum blonde negative image of Oscar Wilde, his upper lip contorted into a contemptuous sneer - they were instructed to demonstrate their commitment to misogyny by repeatedly walking the Tomb Raider heroine, Lara Croft, off a high ledge, causing her to plummet to her death with a brief high-pitched scream, that was followed a split second later by a sickening thud.

The experience proved too much for one aspiring novice who was roughly led away sobbing. A man matching his description was found in nearby Camden the following morning, chained naked to a Boris Bike rack. A Panzer Dragoon games cartridge for the Sega Saturn that had been crammed between his buttocks was removed by the fire brigade and later sold on Ebay.

The main entertainment for the evening was an appearance by the Gamergate sea lion which had been stored for several hours in a cubicle in the gentlemen's toilets. The lumbering sea beast, crudely daubed with green and purple stripes, was led to an inflatable paddling pool in the centre of the bar area, where it was forced to play the rainbow road level on Mario Kart. Gamergaters shouted out hoots of derision as the terrified and disorientated sea mammal struggled to comprehend the concept of competitive videogaming and failed spectacularly to interface its flippers with the nuanced controls of a Nintendo game pad.

One note of cautious optimism for those of us who have battled the malignant social tumour that is Gamergate these past eight months, came in the form of a fixer from Gamergate HQ in the US, who unwittingly revealed the foundering state of the movement. In an extraordinary tirade lasting 15 minutes, the Executive Hatelord berated the London contingent for failing to meet net harassment quotas in the final quarter of 2013/14. The speech concluded with him brandishing a pile of papers which he claimed were new leads providing the details of women who needed to be hounded out of videogaming. He added: “These leads aren't for you because these leads would be wasted on you. These leads are for closers.”

Following this dressing-down one middle-aged gater confided in me:

“I thought for a moment that I was going to get fired from Gamergate. Starting Monday I'm going to get into the office an hour early so I can get a head start on my colleagues. Mark my words, redundancies are on the way my friend. I just need to run faster than everybody else and I'll be okay.”

The battle against Gamergate continues...

(SATIRE) “Only those who are truly pure of heart may see the full list of convention rules” say games convention organisers

An anti-censorship group of games enthusiasts have been expelled from the Literally What? Fan Expo. This follows an alleged breach of convention rules that are invisible to all but the purest souls.

The incident occurred yesterday when members of the expo's Coercion Patrol approached a stand being operated by the Syrup Weasel Brigade and demanded that the group vacate the building immediately.

“When I requested a summary of the exact rules that had been broken, I was told that I lacked the mental capacity and the academic accomplishments necessary to grasp the great offence I had caused to the other attendees,” said Syrup Weasel cohort, Agatha Tiefighter.

“When I pressed the issue, a member of the security team thrust a discredited, dog-eared, 9^th grade physics textbook, open on random page, into my face and yelled: 'THERE! YOU SEE, YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND.'

“I informed the security guard that the answer to the mathematical problem in the book was 73 with a recurring remainder of 3, but that I failed to see how this related to our present situation. At this point we were forcibly escorted off the premises.”

Literally What? organisers initially defended their actions in a series of piecemeal statements on Twitter. These were subsequently erased, redrafted and replaced with other statements which have also been erased. 

 

A statement regarding the incident on the expo's website reads:

“Although a full list of do s and don'ts is made available to everyone operating booths at the convention, only those individuals who are truly pure of heart will be able to perceive these rules in their entirety. On this occasion it appears that some impure souls slipped through our screening process and subsequently broke a great many of the commandments that make Literally What? a fun and inclusive experience for everybody who attends.” 

 

A MODE 5 reporter, who infiltrated the expo by posing as a blogger from our rival social justice-themed publication, MODE 4, requested a list of the rules and was presented with a hardback book consisting of two printed sheets followed by approximately 492 blank pages. A quotation on the back cover, attributed to the actor Wil Wheaton, praised the book as “a daring and progressive manifesto that will revolutionise the convention-going experience.”

After pointing out to the organisers that most of the rule book appeared to be nothing more than white space our reporter was publicly branded a heretic who lacked “the true sight” and was ejected from the building amidst a chorus of boos and cries of “Shitlord!”

MODE 5 spoke to a number of convention goers who had assembled at a 'No Rape Zone' in a re-purposed sheltered bus stop outside the convention centre. Prior to entering our reporter was asked, along with other members of the general public who were waiting for a bus, to sign legally binding paperwork, pledging that he would not rape anyone while in the zone.

One anonymous attendee who claims to have developed self-diagnosed PTSD after witnessing the Syrup Weasels being escorted from the building, said:

“You could tell from the way they were dressed - in jeans, plaid shirts, bow-ties and grey v-necked sweater vests - that they had just come to cause trouble. I am amazed that they were allowed into the convention in the first place.”

Guest speaker, Valentina Lionrug, who lectures on safe spaces in Minecraft, said:

“The presence at this expo of strong, talented women who are willing to engage in frank and open public debate on complicated issues and to eloquently express their dissenting opinions in person, as opposed to anonymously from behind a twitter account backed by a screeching hate mob, demeans all of us who make a career from crying 'victimhood' and begging for money on social media. The bottom line is that I was made to feel unsafe. I am glad that the bad lady has gone and is never coming back.”

A subhuman creature who identified itself to us as 'Butts', and who we assume was cos-playing Reek from Game of Thrones, told MODE 5: “I have no time for sticky weasels. I require all of the weasels who enter into my servitude to be well-lubed and slick to the touch.”

Fallout from the eviction has stirred up anger and bad feeling on both sides of the on-going debate around social justice and censorship. Asked whether any further action or investigation into the incident would be carried out, a spokesperson for Literally What? said:

“We take accusations of rule breaches at our conventions and events extremely seriously. Our thorough investigations are grounded on the same principles of rigorous bias, empty speculation and open disregard for legal due process, that have proven invaluable when addressing issues of social justice on university campuses across America and the United Kingdom.”

Asked whether the Syrup Weasels would be reimbursed any part of the $10,000 they had paid for their booth at Literally What?, the spokesperson informed MODE 5 that this sum was levied in order to cover admin costs and would not be refunded.

SJWs cry foul as Sad Puppies from the planet Correia XLV gain seats on the Intergalactic High Council

:Stardate: April 2015

They have gained notoriety as a star-faring collective of self-appointed warrior elites, who battle across space and time under the banner of social justice, plundering planets of resources and leaving in their wake a trail of barren salt-encrusted rocks upon which no life can flourish.

Yesterday the seemingly relentless momentum of the SJW Combine was finally stalled following their calamitous defeat in the chambers of the Intergalactic High Council. The debate, which included representation from civilisations from across the 19 galaxies, saw the vote fall overwhelmingly in favour of allowing a race of Sad Puppies from the planet Correia XLV to participate in interstellar government – a proposal that had been vigorously contested by SJWs on the grounds that the puppies “make them feel unsafe”.

The aftermath of the debate came as a rare moment of reality for the SJW Combine – an upstart civilisation that has, in recent times, cut a swathe of devastation across a chain of worlds and has been described by robot scientists as “the densest singularity on record, from which no coherent information ever escapes.”

In the pan-dimensional press amphitheatre of the upper senate, a doughy, blue-haired star pixie, flanked by members of the celibate beta guard (a submissive male caste adorned in ceremonial neck beards, white plate armour and plaid wizard robes) read a prepared statement to the assembled Unified Solar Systems 4th Journalism Corps:

“Our formerly reliable tactic of screeching venomous, spittle-laden invective a few inches from the faces of our oppressors, relentlessly zerging fence-sitters, and pretending that the universal translator is broken whenever anyone attempts to engage us in dialogue has failed. We suspect either a thermodynamic anomaly in the fabric of space-time resulted in temporary psychosis among delegates, or that some kind of mind-controlling parasite may be responsible for the bizarre voting patterns that we witnessed in the Intergalactic Council chamber last Friday. We are consulting old episodes of Star Trek in a five year search for possible answers.

“Under our governance the Sad Puppies of Correia XLV would have been dyed blue and quarantined in our pleasure menageries. As a result of our defeat these adorable capering canines have been elevated to a position of political influence that will allow them to infect current galactic thinking with dangerous new ideas, and forever bar our civilisation from gaining unfettered access to their hindquarters.”

MODE 5 can reveal that, prior to Friday's vote, the SJW Combine had engaged in underhanded tactics that were aimed at destabilising the government on Correia XLV. This included sending their weakest, most underprivileged cyborg back in time with instructions to kill the future leader of the Sad Puppies. In a separate incident SJW ships were filmed bombarding the neighbouring uninhabited worlds of Correia XLIV and Correia XLVI with libellous propaganda claiming that the move towards intergalactic politics was driven by an elite minority of white male puppies with poor bowel and bladder control.

Asked whether their defeat had caused them to reconsider their position the SJW spokesperson said:

“If we have learned anything from the past few days, it is that we must immediately begin funding research into the construction of louder megaphones. These will allow us to bellow a threat that will be audible to civilisations over 9000 light years away, and will be mistaken for the voice of god by primitive cultures and therefore obeyed unquestioningly.”

Following the press conference the Zergling Ambassador said: “Again our race has been portrayed in space parliament and in the media section of the fucking Guardian as a mindless swarm. This deeply offensive racial stereotype ignores the nuances of our glorious life-cycle and the magnificent process of assimilation in which species absorbed by the Zerg are generously gifted with oversized mandibles, leathery bat wings and testicular acid glands.

Following the statement, the ambassador enthusiastically demolished a nearby surface-to-air missile launcher before burrowing into grounds of a Terran Command Centre.

Sad Puppies' Intergalactic High Council debut marred by hysteria/automatic sentry guns

The mood in the upper chamber of the Intergalactic High Council was tense this morning as a race of Sad Puppies from the planet Correia XLV made their inaugural appearance at a debate over the taxation of trade routes to outlying star systems.

While some council members made efforts to welcome the new inductees with bowls of water and squeaky chew toys, MODE 5 observed representatives from the SJW Combine staring anxiously at a moving red dot on a motion tracker that charted the advance of the Correian delegation.

Murmurs of displeasure, after the Puppies apparently avoided a pair of automatic sentry guns that had been placed in the hallway outside the council chamber, turned to mild panic when the doleful procession entered through a side door causing one startled SJW emissary to wail erroneously: “They're coming out of the walls! That's it, man! Game over, man! Game over!”

“Frankly it was embarrassing,” said RainbowSparkle – a sentient, powder blue horse, with a mane composed of children's wishes, from one of the Brony worlds. 

 

In an address to the assembly, Sad Puppies ambassador Fenton Torgersen III said:

“Although youthful in appearance we are an ancient order of life for whom even the LOLcats of the memeosphere elicit no mirth. I would like to assure those of you who harboured reservations over our induction onto the council that the answer to the question: 'Who's a good boy?' is 'I am! Yes I am! Yes I am. Yes I am.'

“We believe the SJW Combine who have been among the most vocal opponents of our race's transition to space government would better serve their interests by putting their own house in order.

“Rising salt water levels on a number of SJW worlds has necessitated evacuation in a number of cases, and the subsequent conquest and ecological devastation of other planets. 

 

Meanwhile the slowly disintegrating off-world space ark commanded by SJW Princess, Leigh Alexander, continues to haemorrhage detritus across the interstellar shipping lanes and is currently tended to by a single dumpy robot with a battered watering can.”

Reaction to the speech from SJW loyalists varied: One android who experienced logic circuit burn-out reverted to its former programming and began offering analysis of hand writing samples in exchange for galactic credits

Meanwhile, on-duty Space Cop, Lieutenant Rich Evans, confirmed the sloppy sexual assault of a handsome young star fleet captain, cornered by an inebriated member of the SJW delegation who asked him to “Teach me about this concept you Earthlings call meritocracy.”

An aquarium-bound, manatee-like creature, whose name translates as Literally Who, commented telepathically:

“I've… seen things you people wouldn't believe… SJW attack ships opening fire on the developers of Orion: Prelude. I watched septum piercings glitter in the dark near the Golden Gate Bridge. All those… moments… will be lost in time, like salty tears… in… rain...”

After a few moments of glassy-eyed contemplation the creature added:

“I am continually being harassed by sea lions. Please donate galactic credits to my Patreon account.”

MODE 5 introduces site policy on jug placement

Trigger Warning: Contain jugs

After much soul searching, MODE 5 has taken the bold decision to introduce a policy that will regulate the placement of jugs in the images that appear on our website. We would like to assure our loyal cadre of oldfags, the new visitors to our site, and the various web crawlers that stumble onto our web page and eventually have their legs pulled off by Gary, our site admin, that this small change to our content will, in no way, impact upon the trace elements of humour that have become MODE 5's calling card. 

We don't want to take your jugs away from you. We are introducing this measure to ensure that a visit to MODE 5 remains a positive and inclusive experience not just for a perverted jug-obsessed minority, but also for those acutely-sensitive citizens of the internet who seldom, if ever, visit our site, but who are none-the-less greatly offended by its contents.

Below we have included a pictorial guide to our new site policy. And remember, if you still want to look at uncensored photos of jugs there are still a lot really great free sites out there featuring images of jugs pouring liquids, and pairs of jugs splattered with mayonnaise, with massive sausages thrust in between.

~ backwards7 (Site Editor)

This overtly sexualised image (left) of a pair of jugs squeezed tightly together used to be common place on the old MODE 5 website. We have all grown a lot as individuals since the photo first graced our pages back in December 2014. During the intervening months I have fathered no less than eight daughters. My experience of watching them growing up, flowering into womanhood, leaving for university to pursue careers in gender studies, and gaining financial independence with their first Patreon accounts, has changed my outlook. What at the time seemed like a harmless jpeg I now recognise as deeply sexist and, as such, something that has no place on a family orientated website.

This is the last image of its kind that you are going to see on MODE 5.

As of April 2^nd 2015, all images of jugs on MODE 5 will require the vessels to be spaced a minimum of six inches (one standard American penis length) apart.

We feel that this will ensure a conformable viewing experience for our visitors, as well as neutralising the one-eyed Sauron-like male gaze that has become the scourge of inequality online.

In non-peer reviewed research carried out by Social Justice Scientists, 75% percent of males who viewed images of jugs spaced more than eight inches apart reported no sexual arousal. 

At MODE 5 we want our visitors to be mildly sexually aroused and so have chosen a distance of six inches by way of compromise. 

 

 

Some jugs dispense milk while others contain Sangria. MODE 5 recognises and celebrates the diversity of jug contents.

 

MODE 5 acknowledges that not all jugs are the same: Like the quivering rack of the three-breasted mutant hooker in Total Recall some are plain weird looking, and yet all are beautiful. 

 

Long time MODE 5 contributor Charlotte (formerly Carl) struggled with the trauma of being a jug trapped in a pot's body. Last year she took the first transformative steps towards becoming the person who she always knew she was. MODE 5 believes that everyone should have the freedom to realise their own identity without the fear of prejudice or violence. 

 

This is assault. We are going to use Tin-Eye to find out whose hand this is. When we know who you are, we will notify the FBI Gamergate Task Force and the Crash Override Network and take bets on who will catch up with your jug-molesting arse first.

Enjoy the view from your jail cell Shitlord.