Author: tdhadmin

  • Congress Forms Committee to Determine Who Left the Group Chat

    Congress Forms Committee to Determine Who Left the Group Chat

    SATIRE — This is an original fictional story. The committee, events, and all quotations are invented; no actual congressional investigation is being reported.

    WASHINGTON — In The Daily Holler’s fictional Congress, lawmakers have formed a bipartisan committee to determine who left a group chat after someone posted, “Can we please stay on topic?”

    The departure briefly reduced the conversation to 534 participants, triggering fears that somebody, somewhere, had successfully stopped receiving messages from Congress.

    “We cannot allow a member to simply walk away from an unproductive discussion,” said an imaginary committee chair. “That sets a dangerous precedent for the institution.”

    A crisis with excellent fundraising potential

    Within minutes, both parties had issued statements condemning the departure while privately asking staff whether it was possible to leave without everybody getting a notification.

    One fictional lawmaker called it an attack on transparency. Another called it government overreach. Neither had read the chat, which contained 86 messages asking what time the meeting started and a photo of a parking space.

    The committee’s first hearing opened with six members explaining that the American people deserved answers. Each then used five minutes to answer a question nobody had asked.

    An imaginary witness was instructed to respond with a simple yes or no: Did the departing member leave voluntarily, accidentally, or as part of a coordinated campaign to undermine the thumbs-up reaction?

    The witness asked whether that was three questions.

    The chair accused him of being evasive.

    The evidence is largely vibes

    Investigators reviewed screenshots, notification settings, and a suspicious “Sounds good” sent by a member who had previously never thought anything sounded good.

    An expert explained that the chat’s “seen” indicator meant a message had been displayed, not necessarily understood.

    The room fell silent. Several members requested that distinction be entered into the permanent record for unrelated reasons.

    The committee also subpoenaed a GIF of a raccoon backing into a hedge, describing it as “potentially relevant to intent.”

    One fictional member demanded to know why the raccoon had been allowed to withdraw without consulting leadership.

    A staffer explained that it was a looping animation.

    The member called for a second hearing.

    Nobody is leaving without a statement

    The imaginary investigation eventually discovered that the departed participant was a congressional intern whose phone had frozen after receiving 47 consecutive “Thank you” replies to a message asking people not to reply all.

    The intern had tried to rejoin, but the invitation link was trapped in a separate group chat created to discuss simplifying communications.

    That chat had nine subcommittees.

    Rather than close the investigation, lawmakers expanded its scope to determine who had named the original conversation “Quick Question.”

    “There is nothing quick about the work we do here,” the fictional chair said, accidentally delivering the most accurate statement of the hearing.

    By evening, the committee had approved a resolution affirming that the chat remained a vital forum for productive dialogue.

    The resolution was followed by 112 messages saying “Agreed.”

    Actual work remained unread.


    Original institutional satire from The Daily Holler. This fictional committee is not based on a reported congressional investigation.

    Satirical illustration — fictional scene, not a news photograph.

  • State Announces Pothole Repair Plan; Potholes Request More Time to Review Proposal

    State Announces Pothole Repair Plan; Potholes Request More Time to Review Proposal

    SATIRE — The repair-plan announcement below, pothole representatives, and all dialogue are fictional. This parody is inspired by West Virginia’s real road-maintenance announcements.

    CHARLESTON, W.Va. — In The Daily Holler’s fictional version of West Virginia road policy, a proposed pothole repair plan has been delayed after the potholes requested 90 additional days to review how being filled might affect their way of life.

    The request came from the Mountain State Association of Established Road Cavities, which insists it supports infrastructure improvements as long as those improvements happen somewhere else.

    “Nobody wants good roads more than we do,” said its imaginary spokesman, a water-filled depression known locally as That Son of a Bitch Past the Dollar General. “But you can’t just pour asphalt over stakeholders.”

    A hole with standing

    The association has demanded a public hearing, an environmental review, and written assurances that no pothole will be displaced before receiving comparable accommodations in another lane.

    One senior pothole claims historic status because three generations of the same family have hit it on their way to church.

    “At this point, I’m a landmark,” it said. “People give directions using me. Fill me in and half the county won’t know where to turn.”

    A neighboring cavity has applied for a tourism grant, describing itself as an immersive experience with complimentary suspension testing.

    Its brochure reads: “Come for the mountains. Leave with your coffee in the headliner.”

    The committee needs another meeting

    Under the fictional proposal, the potholes would form a working group to determine whether the road actually needs to be flat.

    The group’s first meeting was postponed when its chairman merged with two smaller holes and became a regional authority.

    Drivers have questioned why a hole needs three months to study asphalt when it can swallow a hubcap in half a second.

    The association called that rhetoric divisive.

    “We prefer ‘unexpected vertical travel opportunity,’” its spokesman said. “Pothole is such a negative word.”

    An imaginary motorist attending the hearing said she would welcome a repair, provided it lasted longer than the receipt from her last alignment.

    “I’m not asking for the Autobahn,” she said. “I’d just like to get to work without my dashboard sounding like a drawer full of silverware falling down the stairs.”

    Progress has been announced

    The fictional committee eventually agreed to establish a timeline for developing a framework to consider scheduling repairs.

    It described the agreement as a major breakthrough.

    The potholes described it as winter housing secured.

    By press time, the largest hole had requested another extension. It said it needed room to grow.


    The real story behind the joke: On March 10, 2026, the West Virginia Division of Highways announced its annual pothole-patching effort as asphalt plants reopened. This is background for the parody, not a new October announcement. The association, hearings, delays, and quotations above are invented. Read the original WVDOH announcement.

    Source checked October 9, 2026. Artwork: AI-generated satire illustration, not a news photograph.

  • MLB Proposes Shorter Season; Nation’s Dads Discover Eight Evenings in the Garage

    MLB Proposes Shorter Season; Nation’s Dads Discover Eight Evenings in the Garage

    SATIRE — This is a fictional parody inspired by real news. All dialogue and comic details are invented.

    NEW YORK — Baseball fans across the country are confronting a difficult hypothetical question: if Major League Baseball’s proposed shorter regular season happens, what are they supposed to do with the evenings?

    One entirely fictional dad has already discovered a garage behind his house. Preliminary inspection revealed a shelf he began installing during a rain delay several seasons ago.

    “I thought that was the practice shelf,” he said. “Apparently it was the actual shelf.”

    In the fictional household negotiations, the garage shelf offered no concessions. It has waited through seven playoff runs and one rebuilding year. It knows damn well what “I’ll get to it Sunday” means.

    An unexpected opening in the schedule

    In The Daily Holler’s imaginary household forecast, the eight games removed from the regular season have immediately been replaced by a best-of-seven series against a sticking screen door.

    The door currently leads three games to none.

    A second fan has proposed using the additional evenings to reconnect with his family. His family has welcomed the idea but asked him not to provide color commentary while they load the dishwasher.

    “He keeps saying the bottom rack has tremendous upside,” said his fictional spouse. “It has plates.”

    October has entered the chat

    Any celebration of the hypothetical free time was interrupted when fans noticed that the proposal also includes a longer Division Series.

    The garage shelf has responded by requesting that its own installation be extended to seven attempts. The screen door is prepared to accept the change, provided it receives home-field advantage.

    Our imaginary dad says he supports whatever arrangement protects the long-term health of the sport. He would also appreciate enough notice to explain why the lawn mower is parked in the dining room.

    At press time, he had returned to watching highlights, an activity unaffected by the total number of games because there is always a man online willing to explain a pitch from 1987.


    The real story behind the joke: AP reported on October 8 that MLB proposed reducing the regular season from 162 to 154 games beginning in 2029 and expanding the Division Series to best-of-seven. These are bargaining proposals, not adopted rules. Read AP’s reporting.

    Source checked October 9, 2026. Artwork: AI-generated satire illustration, not a news photograph.

  • West Virginia Tourism Hits $9.4 Billion; Local Leaf Immediately Gets an Agent

    West Virginia Tourism Hits $9.4 Billion; Local Leaf Immediately Gets an Agent

    SATIRE — This is a fictional parody inspired by real news. All dialogue and comic details are invented.

    CHARLESTON, W.Va. — Following West Virginia’s announcement of a record $9.4 billion tourism economic impact, an entirely fictional maple leaf has hired representation and asked visitors to stop photographing its bad side.

    The leaf, currently working a ridge somewhere in the Mountain State, says it has spent years turning orange without so much as a parking space.

    “Everybody talks about the mountains,” said the imaginary leaf’s agent. “Who do you think is doing wardrobe?”

    The leaf’s imaginary publicist has already described this as a “brand journey.” It is a leaf. Its journey is down. Nevertheless, three consultants are preparing a slide deck.

    A demanding fall schedule

    The fictional contract calls for morning mist, late-afternoon lighting, and a guarantee that no one will describe the leaf as “basically brown.” It also demands a private dressing room, despite the leaf having one outfit and wearing it outside.

    An oak leaf down the road declined to join the negotiations, explaining that it prefers to stay grounded. A nearby evergreen said it had no comment because it works year-round.

    Tourists have been advised that the maple will continue appearing in scenic photographs. However, personal appearances on windshields will now require a booking fee, payable in compliments.

    The overlook has notes

    In our invented tourism drama, the scenic overlook is seeking its own agent after learning it has been described online as “a nice place to stretch your legs.”

    “I am framing three mountain ranges,” it said. “You can stretch your legs at a gas station.”

    The river has expressed interest in a management deal but wants to retain creative control over which direction it goes.

    Despite the imaginary negotiations, the leaf says it remains committed to the visitors who made its career possible. It plans to greet them warmly, provide a spectacular show, and fall directly into the gutter they cleaned yesterday.

    Its agent calls that audience engagement.


    The real story behind the joke: A September 21 state announcement reported a record $9.4 billion tourism economic impact. The leaf, agent, and negotiations are fictional. Read the state’s tourism announcement.

    Source checked October 9, 2026. Artwork: AI-generated satire illustration, not a news photograph.

  • West Virginia Bids for Space Academy, Requests Astronauts Wipe Their Feet

    West Virginia Bids for Space Academy, Requests Astronauts Wipe Their Feet

    SATIRE — This is a fictional parody inspired by real news. All dialogue and comic details are invented.

    FAIRMONT, W.Va. — West Virginia’s bid to host the United States Space Academy has encountered its first major design question: where to put the mat that says, “Wipe your feet.”

    The proposed mat would sit between the airlock and the good living room. A second mat would be installed beyond it, because the first one apparently means nothing to some people.

    The fictional committee has also commissioned a 90-page feasibility study on the doormat. Apparently humanity can land on the moon before an institution can decide where to put a damn rug.

    In The Daily Holler’s entirely fictional version of the bid, a hospitality committee has declared the state ready to welcome the next generation of space explorers, provided they call when they get there.

    “We support exploration,” said an imaginary committee member, moving a casserole out of a flight simulator. “We do not support tracking the Sea of Tranquility through the house.”

    One small step. Shoes off.

    The academy’s fictional orientation would cover orbital mechanics, advanced propulsion, and how to decline a third helping without implying anything was wrong with the first two.

    Cadets would also practice giving directions. “Straight up for a while” has been rejected as insufficiently specific, although “past where the old satellite used to be” remains under review.

    The cafeteria has proposed a pepperoni roll engineered for zero gravity. Early trials suggest the roll is fine, but someone will have to catch the crumbs before they become a separate space program.

    Mission control is on the porch

    The imaginary campus tour concludes with a rocking chair overlooking the mountains. Prospective astronauts are invited to sit a spell, consider the vastness of the universe, and explain why they need to leave when supper is nearly ready.

    No final academy location has been announced in the source behind this parody. In the meantime, the fictional welcome committee is preparing for every possibility.

    It has put the good towels out.


    The real story behind the joke: West Virginia announced on October 7 that it is competing to host the United States Space Academy. The announcement describes a bid, not a selection. Read the governor’s announcement.

    Source checked October 9, 2026. Artwork: AI-generated satire illustration, not a news photograph.