ST. ELON PERFORMS FIRST MIRACLE

Will SpaceX become as famous as Lourdes or Fatima as the suffering masses seek miracles to cure their ailments? Will the sick flock to Brownsville in record numbers seeking relief from their misery? Will the Catholic Church canonize Elon Musk and turn a satanic figure into a saintly savior?

We will wait on The Brownsville Herald's top reporter (only reporter?) Steve Clark to investigate the incident that allegedly took place on Christmas day. The Baker Boys, the famed investigative twins Billy and Bobby, have already appeared at The McHale Report's offices and delivered their preliminary findings. Billy, the more talkative of the pair, related his and Bobby's observations:

"According to Armando Negroponte, a Brownsville native but who has chosen to reside in Matamoros where he feels safer, has suffered from inflamed hemorrhoids for decades. From charlatans to curanderas to culo doctors, he has sought treatments but with zero success.

"'They have been so swollen that my wife has mistaken them for my gonads,' he told my brother and me. He lamented that they would hang from his anus like two golf balls and his spouse's insistence on tugging on them because they excited her before they had sex didn't help his condition.

"Desperate, he had heard that an enlightened individual named Elon Musk was working economic miracles across the border. Mr. Negroponte, bereft of options, deduced that if this person endowed with special powers could work economic miracles, perhaps he could also work spiritual miracles.

"He heard that a shrine had been erected in Musk's honor near Boca Chica Beach and that the latter had millions of followers including Donald Trump. If the future president of the United States had faith in him, Mr. Negorponte deduced that this Chris-like figure must have magical powers.

"'I drove east on Highway Four,' he related to us. "In the distance I could see these huge phallic monuments that I initially thought were mosques, but as I neared the site I could plainly see that they were rocket ships. I had heard at my favorite cantina near la plaza that a huge nuclear site was being constructed near the gulf. I couldn't believe my eyes that our area had become such an important military base with all these missiles pointed toward Russia.

"'Near the entrance I spotted a woman kneeling before a concrete block with a bust atop it,' he continued. 'I stopped, parked my car and approached her. She was reciting the rosary. With tears rolling down her cheeks, she was staring at this misshapen, yellow head. I couldn't help but notice the evil eyes that I would expect from Lucifer rather than Gabriel. I looked at the elderly lady in a questioning manner and she stopped her sobbing and said that she was praying to Saint Elon for her husband who had stage four brain cancer and was dying at a clinic. The hospital had told her that there was no hope for him.

""I told her that I had heard of this person's powers and I was here to beseech his benevolence. She informed me that before I could make my request, I had to pour holy water from the Immaculate Conception Cathedral over his head. Of course, I wasn't aware of the ritual and I wasn't going to drive back to Brownsville, so I reentered to my car and found a Whataburger coffee cup. Seated in the driver's seat, I peed in it.

""I enjoyed the gulf breeze until she departed. I approached the bust and poured my urine over the head. Most of it ran down his ferocious face and I hoped that this divinity wasn't anything like the God of the Old Testament and that the earth would suddenly open and swallow me. I didn't want to dirty my pants, so I stood in front of Saint Elon's countenance and begged him to relieve me on my painful condition. I have to admit that I felt stupid and I was glad nobody was watching, but I figured I had nothing to lose. After a few minutes of meditation, I drove back to Matamoros.

"'I suffer from insomnia, but I immediately fell asleep as soon as I hit the sack that evening. I didn't wake up until the next morning when I felt my wife grasping wildly for something in my boxers. She wanted to know where they were. I was confused by her frantic search until I reached under my genitals and I couldn't believe my good fortune: My hemorrhoids were gone! Though my wife seemed disappointed, I couldn't contain my ecstasy and I stuck my finger up my ass like St. Thomas inspecting the wounds of the crucified Jesus. I had a bunghole as smooth and as soft as a baby's. I can only praise the Lord that he has brought Saint Elon to save us.'"

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