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“T-Rex was actually a humongous chicken,” said famed Dinosaurologist Jock Fossil, “Though he still would’ve eaten Colonel Sanders faster than you can say hot wing.”

DNA analysis has shown that gallus domesticus, AKA the McNugget, actually descended from a nightmarish, man-eating dinosaur that used to roam Earth eating cave men like chicken poppers.

“It’s got to have been a big come down for the species,” Fossil says sympathetically. “One millenia, you’re top of the food chain, lording it over pretty mush everything on the planet, the next, you’re just a little pecker hoping not to wind up in someone’s paprikash.”

Animal psychologists believe the species suffers from a sort of perpetual post traumatic stress syndrome as a result of its precipitous fall in pecking order.

“How would you like it if someone came along, shrank you from being the size of a decent size condominium till you were no bigger than a bread basket, covered you in feathers and replaced your fearsome teeth with a little beak?” said Fossil. “No wonder they became chickens.”

“On the bright side, instead of having to break out a hackneyed punchline the next time you’re eating frog legs or badger, say,” says Fossil, “You can tell everyone it tastes like T-Rex and actually be telling the truth.”

“You ladies who want boys best like big butts,” said the study’s lead researcher, Neville Pynch. “You want a baby girl, step away from the refrigerator.”

While plenty of scientists find the researchers’ findings credible, many in America are choking on their Whoppers.

“I mean, if their research were true, America would look like ancient Sparta — or at least ‘Let’s Hear it for the Boys’,” said famed Obesiologist Lawrence Torrence. “We’re one fat ass nation.”

While arguments over the veracity of the study will likely continue for some time, Torrence plans to fatten up his bank account with an exploitative, information-poor new book entitled, “Men are from Big Macs, Women are from Celery.”

“It was either that or “Binge is for Blue, Purge is for Pink,” Torrence says.

Stories of penis snatching are not unusual in West Africa, where witchcraft and superstition-rife religions still flourish. In recent days, new reports of snatching have flooded radio call-in shows here in Congo’s capital. Callers report (or express fears of) having their penises snatched or shrunken by sorcerers, who then demand money in return for the return of their penises.

“This is especially troubling considering how difficult not having a penis makes masturbation,” said Congo’s Minister of Penile Snatching Prevention, Dikimbe Kibaki. “How is a man without a penis supposed to protect his prostate, rubbing his nipples? I don’t think so…though I will give it a go.”

Of grave concern to many is the health of a detached penis. Without normal blood flow, many wondered how the organs would survive.

“My (penis) has a hard enough time surviving as it is,” said Stanley Livingston, of suburban Kinshasa. “It barely gets enough love when it’s attached to me. Who’s going to take care of it now?”

As Livingston noted, not all concern over snatched penises concerned prostate health.

“Not having a healthy prostate is one thing,” said Linvingston. “Being totally dickless is another thing entirely. I’ll never hear the end of it from my wife.”

Others wondered why sorcerers couldn’t have given them a choice of organs to snatch. Many would have gladly parted with pesky appendix or even prostates.

“Why the hell couldn’t they have snatched my damn prostate?” said Desmond Kano, who suffers from an enlarged prostate. “It’s not like you can miss it. These damn sorcerers got it ass backwards…literally.”

“Talk about restoring your faith in the Lord,” said Larry Terry, former president of Atheists.org, a post from which he retired this morning after news reports that frequent masturbation lowers a male’s chance of developing prostate cancer. “How can you argue there’s not a God after news like that? I’ve been SAVED!”

Others clearly shared Terry’s sentiment, as atheist organizations from around the world saw a stark drop in male members. Despite the desertion of nearly all males from such atheist groups, non-believer orgs actually saw a surge in membership, as fed-up females flooded their rosters.

“That’s the last straw,” said Sister Mary Tenacious, who claimed she’d be disavowing her nun-ly vows as soon as she finished her application to Atheists.org. “As any woman of the cloth knows, all kinds of things try your faith. But a world where playing with yourself benefits only men, I mean, heck with God if that’s how he’s gonna be.”

Other women weren’t as quick to question researchers’ claims…or God.

“I see God every time I touch myself,” claimed Christina Amphlett, lead singer of the DiVinyls. “Why else do you think I’m singing about touching myself all the time?”

“I had just had a night of pretty heavy, well, sinning,” said Lance Francis. “Here I am with a bottle of ketchup ready to do further sacrilege — and suddenly I see the faces of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost beaming up at me from my plate. I fell to my knees. I believe I expressed fluids. I was that overcome.”

Francis had barely gotten off his phone from trademarking his Triplicate Miracle Meal®, when an outpouring of the faithful — intent on seeing the likeness of the Holy Trinity in a stack of Swedish pancakes, sausage and two eggs over-easy — forced authorities to lock down four city blocks surrounding the IHOP.

“There were so many people with candles and flowers I thought maybe someone had died,” Francis said, of the scene.

“Instead, something came back to life inside of me: my faith in God. I mean, here I am a few hours ago just hittin’ it with this total hottie — totally out of wedlock, you know? I shower, head over to the IHOP and next thing you know the Holy Trinity appears in my grub and Mirage casino’s on the phone offering me 50K for it! What’s not to have faith in God about? That’s good damn karma, am I right?”

Larry Lynn, general manager of Las Vega’s MGM Mirage, confirmed that the casino had purchased Francis’ holy platter, but said it wasn’t about to exploit the miracle meal for monetary gain.

“We believe we’re serving our guests when we bring them a religious spectacle of this nature,” said Lynn. “That lumberjack special is Wayne Newton big. It’s bigger than the Pope! We would never seek to exploit it for monetary gain, never.”

As for IHOP employees, fry cook Jesus DeSilva summed it up thusly: “I knew there was something special going on when Margarita picked up that order from me…but I had no idea it was gonna involve so many people crying over one of my meals.”

That’s divine dining for you.

“Not only was I discriminated against as a white woman who attended Yale Law School,” Ms. Clinton said, to a confused NAACP chapter in Philly. “Once upon a time, I fought a lonely battle with Tourette’s Syndrome, a battle from which I emerged victorious and ready to lead on day one.”

Asked when, exactly, she battled Tourette’s, other than at Camp David in 1995 when author Benjamin Barber and others were there to witness and document her “screw ‘em” remark, Ms. Clinton was ready with specifics.

“Whenever, in the past, I profanely denigrated a constituency whose votes I now need and someone has evidence of it,” Ms. Clinton said. “That’s when.”

Clinton said that goes doubly for any time in the future that she reviles rival Barrak Obama for statements he’s made, which turn out to pale in comparison to statements we later learn she made.

“I remember, my uncle used to take me out back of that old shed on Lake Wrunamoka to shoot our 22’s,” Clinton said, a wistful expression crossing her face.

“I remember how he actually nicknamed me “Screw ‘em” because, at times, I inadvertently said it so dang often…as happened to me at Camp David when witnesses were there to quote me.”

“All breakthroughs, discoveries and cures achieved by cheating are hereby nullified…even if they do cure cancer,” said ISC spokesperson, Dr. Lucius Taint. “Our regrets to those with cancer…best get your affairs in order.”

Taint likened such collateral damage to that of confessed steroid user Marion Jones’ relay teammates. Though none of them tested positive for drug-use, because teammate and relay anchor Jones did, all their gold medals were nullified and their lives turned to s**t.

Taint also insisted that breakthroughs like saving the planet and curing cancer that result from scientists using brain-enhancing drugs set a bad example for kids.

“Chemicals are for chemistry, not humans…except the chemicals we already use,” insisted Taint. “A cure for cancer achieved by using brain-enhancing drugs is a cancer on a cure for cancer.”

“God meant to bring down his wrath on those polygamists and their compound in Eldorado,” said the face of Jesus, which appeared to diners at a Texas panhandle eatery on a piece of french toast. “His aim was a little off. Acts of God are not a science…obviously.”

Though no deaths were reported in the region, don’t blame the Big Man.

“This wasn’t just some random ‘act’,” Jesus Christ on french toast continued. “God meant to smote some ass: Besides bringing the smote down on those male Mormons — which sounds like ‘Mammon,’ don’t you think? — he meant to take out some Mexican drug lords down El Paso way. And when I say ‘take out’ I don’t mean treat to watery drinks at some border town donkey show.”

Unfortunately — and as noted by the syrup-drenched visage of the Son of Man — God was off his game.

“If performing acts of God were easy,” said the piece of toast, speaking off the record, “everybody would be doing them. As it stands, God’s still the only one with those chops…though the collateral damage can be hell.”

“Bill collectors? Really?” sobbed one senior member of the campaign, tears of joy streaming down her face “What took them so long! For the love of God, take him!”

Informed that the bill collectors wouldn’t be coming for Bill, the former president, but would be there, instead, to collect on bills long unpaid by their own campaign, HRC’s people went directly to the third stage of grief: bargaining.

“You make him disappear, we’ll get your janitors their puny salaries,” one top staffer was overheard saying, over the phone, to repo people. Moments later, the same staffer was heard shouting, “Who’s got the petty cash?”

Bill collectors did ultimately arrive at HRC campaign headquarters, just as staffers were reeling from another batch of bald-face lies by ex-POTUS, Bill Clinton. Those whoppers involved statements and actions related to the “harrowing” arrival in Tuzla of his wife (who is, incidentally, the one running for president, name’s Hillary).

Staffers, who off the record admitted the campaign had been going through interns like hot wings at a Super Bowl party, were hoping the bill collectors would return with reinforcements.

“Can you send some Penn collectors,” said one staffer, who insisted the porcine pollster had not stopped working on the campaign. “And a Wolfson collector would be awesome. And an Ickes collector — especially an Ickes collector.”

For their part, the bill collectors wondered why a couple that raked in $109 million over the last ten years would risk their reputation by welching on debts to mom and pop businesses and college marching bands.

“Do you think they raked in 109 million worrying about the little people?” said one staffer. “Besides, they don’t have much of a reputation to risk. At least not with sane people.”