The Invitational Week 135: Mess With Our Heads
Play off a headline to give it a new meaning. Plus some clever-funny 'panalphabetics.'
Pat Myers and Gene Weingarten
Jul 31, 2025


In today’s Invitational results, an ode to the man who chomped off this cute little guy’s head. See below.
Hello.

Now more than ever, when it’s not just eyeballs but also algorithms they’re trying to attract, headlines have to do a lot of work: They need to sum up an article in a few short words that make the reader (or “reader”) want to stick around for the whole story.

But we’ve gleefully discovered over the years — in dozens of Invitational contests — that there’s a lot of fun in willfully misunderstanding those headlines. Which is what we ask you to do in the form of the classic print newspaper form of a main headline followed by a “bank head,” or subtitle, like these heads from the July 23 Washington Post, with our bank heads:

Real headline: Justice Dept. seeks a meeting with Ghislaine Maxwell
Bank head: ‘Do you think she could find me a pretty one with long hair?’ official asks

Is Mexican Coke Really Better Than the U.S. Version?
Our experts line up the lines for the Battle of the Blow

After ‘adjustment,’ Nationals come alive
Players improve with new crotch comfort, but TV fans wish camera hadn’t panned the dugout

For Invitational Week 135: Reinterpret some actual headline (or a major part of it) by adding a bank head, as in the examples above. The headlines may be from any publication, print or online, dated July 31-Aug. 9, 2025. Include the source and date of the headline so we can verify it; for online stories, please paste that page’s URL after your entry.

(suggestion: if you are reading this in an email, click on the headline so you get the latest amended, emended and addended version.)
Quick FAQs:

What counts as a headline? It’s any text placed above the text of an article or ad and used as a title. “Jump heads,” above the rest of a story on another print page, are headlines, too.

Can I drop words off the beginning or end? Yes, if it doesn’t totally change the meaning. Don’t change “School Sets Fire Code” to “School Sets Fire.”

Can I play with the capitalization? You can, by capitalizing all the major words in a headline. Note the example above about “Coke”; the double meaning wouldn’t have worked if, as in the original, “Coke” were the only uppercase word. So you can create that ambiguity with capital letters.

How do I format my entries? We’ll just make it simple this week and tell you to make it clear enough for us to read. First the real headline, then your bank head, along with a URL or some other way to show us where you saw it. It doesn’t have to all be on one line.

Will you show us some more bank heads — how about the winners from last time. Good plan! Here you go.

Deadline is Saturday, Aug. 9, 2025, at 9 p.m. ET. Results will run here in The Gene Pool on Thursday, Aug. 14. As usual, you may submit up to 25 entries for this week’s contest, preferably all on the same form.

Click here for this week’s entry form, or go to tinyURL.com/inv-form-135. See (the lack of) formatting instructions above.

The winner receives this handsome fuzzy zip-mouth shoulder bag. Why a frog should be fuzzy unless it is on the hand of a puppeteer is not yours to reason why.


You can go brrrrrrkin’ all day with this eye-catching (and fly-catching) purse.
Runners-up get autographed fake money featuring the Czar or Empress, in one of eight nifty designs. Honorable mentions get bupkis, except for a personal email from the E, plus the Fir Stink for First Ink for First Offenders.

Seriesly, Folks! ‘Panalphabetic’ writing from Week 133
In Invitational Week 133 we asked you to write a clever panalphabetic passage, in which the letters of the alphabet appear in order, either A to Z or Z to A. (The pertinent letters are in boldface.) Two of today’s inking entries work both ways. While the point wasn’t to come up with the very shortest usable passage, some of today’s winners pulled off the feat astonishingly in under a hundred letters, far fewer than the Wikipedia example we showed two weeks ago.

Third runner-up:
A zillionaire, 60 years old, had a sexy young wife. “Very cute,” said his friend, “but a question, please.” “OK, name it.” “I’m, like … jealous a bit. How’d you get her?” “First, I lied a touch about my age.” “You told her you were 50?” “No, 90.” (Mark Raffman, Reston, Va.)

Second runner-up:
Can backside finger hijinks supplement top-quality prostitution? Cavity waxers reply with a zealous thumbs-up. (Kevin Dopart, Naxos, Greece — and he did it in just 93 letters)

First runner-up:
West Point Recruiting Song 2027 (to “Be Our Guest”):
Be cadets! Be cadets!
For we’ve gotta hedge our bets!
ICE is janky as can be —
We need real men to back our threats!
Pretty quick you’ll agree
It’s a ton of fun to be
At the center of the vortex
With no need to use your cortex!
Under arms, you’re a star
Like a Cossack for the Czar
With impunity, immune from all regrets!
So don’tcha be a fairy,
Join the military —
Be cadets! Be cadets! Be cadets! (Mark Raffman)

And the winner of the crab hat with bendable claws:
I. His zingers got big yuks, further exposing his wit. Vainglorious, though still relatable. Quality programming meant Louis C.K.’s jokes were in high demand. Family entertainment? Hardly. He’s no Cosby. Amen!

II. His zipper got big “yikes!,” further exposing his wang. Vain, inglorious, thoughtless, unrelatable. Quiet program managers (MeToo?) ignored Louis C.K.’s jolting actions for higher ratings. Female entertainment? Hardly. He is Cosby. Ahhh, men. (Mike Ostapiej, Charleston, S.C.)

Laugh-a-Bit Soup: Honorable mentions
Ozzy Osbourne’s now expired, the world is very blue;
This requiem I’m posting may lack judgment, but it’s true.
He gathered fame and made a name (I’m no way faulting that!)
But dammit, Ozzy, couldn’t you have spared that little bat? (Mark Raffman)

If I were able to compare thee to a summer’s day, I’d say you’re fiery and bright as in July, likely moist as under an opaque humid sky, all warm and steamy; actually, however, let me count the ways you match such a day, which is exactly zero. (Jeff Rackow, Bethesda, Md.)

Abject deference to kingship, Justices? Meek, loyal minions pique our ire. Stand up! Disavow laxity! Backbone-ize! (Duncan Stevens, Vienna, Va. — and just 91 letters)

This one goes Z to A, then A to Z:
A zoomy fox who lives in a plum tree, two sorry squirrels, three quarter-ponies, four mewling kittens, five jackrabbits; six huge ferrets, seven deadly cobras, … and … eight backward emus, nine fighting jackals, ten omnivorous pea-quails, eleven resting turtles, twelve waxy zebras … my true love is gonna LOVE this Christmas! (Mark Raffman)

Commanders’ name replacements: Backdated Figs! Hairy Junk! Lumpy Entropy! Liquor Blast! Uvula Waxers! Yeezy! All more plausible. (Duncan Stevens)

A rabbi, a Catholic priest, and a pastor of Episcopal faith get together in a bar to enjoy a drink. “Tell me now, please,” questions the bartender: “Say it’s your funeral — do you have anything would want expressed?” The priest: “His honesty was exemplary.” The pastor: “His zeal for the Gospels was unmatched.” The rabbi: “Look, he’s moving!” (Mark Raffman)

A Limerode to Trump?
A balance-of-trade-fixing hero
Is a jerk and a blasphemous Nero
With perilous quirks
His obtrusiveness works
So we’re greater exactly by zero.
(Kevin Dopart)

“Table CAMERA ladder flash lightning jackal MAN dog PERSON liquors TV curve WOMAN.” “Extraordinary memorization, Mr. President!” (Chris Doyle, Denton, Tex.)

A backside of giant humps, big juicy-looking lady melons, offers pleasure; quote me, for I speak truth and verity by law. Except yo mama’s a zero. (Matt Monitto, Bristol, Conn.)

Wannabe Commander-in-chief (a right-wing jerk) slammed the team name. “Not top quality! It’s a ‘Redskins’ turnover we’ll fix,” he tyrannized. (Kevin Dopart)

It doesn’t surprise me that my boozy ex-wife’s very upset to see rising liquor prices, but not rising milk, juice, hamburger, coffee, and cabbage prices. (Chris Doyle)

“I am absolutely committed to releasing the files. Go stitch that into a pillow. Justice will be served by making these files known to the American people, whom I define as a narrow sliver of kooks hellbent on prying layers off the squishy, rotten onion known as the Deep State. Until now, the vile swamp has festered. But make no mistake: I will expose the Democrat elites once and for all. … Hold on one sec—getting a phone call. Hello? Uh-huh. Say what, now? Your name appears how many times? Um, yes, Mr. President. Yes, of course. Will do. You have a patriotic day, too, sir. Ahem. As I was saying, there are no files, and you all are complete sleazebags for bringing them up.” (Leif Picoult, Rockville, Md.)

A basic dilemma: Is this the real life? Gosh, is this just, like, all a dream? No escape from queer reality, stuck in a very weird existence, yada, yada, yada, Beelzebub, yada, yada. (Jesse Frankovich, Laingsburg, Mich.)

“A doodle? I’ve never been one to draw, especially crude and erotic art. File that story under BOR-ing. Great. We done? Huh? I just told you kooks to flippin’ forget about it! Find the memory hole and insert, okay? Did I party with the guy? What kind of a lame question is that? I’ve partied with many folks, oodles of people over the years. Mother Teresa, for example. Uh, and, like, very, very upstanding people. You wouldn’t believe how upstanding. That so-called exciting story you’re harping about? Snoozefest!” (Leif Picoult)

“Painful BMs cause defecalgesiophobia. Just acknowledgment of ‘poop queue restrictions’ can shift your view,” he expertly rationalized. (Jon Gearhart, Des Moines)

A crazy expressway curves around this rotten quagmire of powerful
unstatesmanlike jerks in charge of things. What is the District of Columbia?
(Jesse Frankovich)

All you brainwashed clones keep dancing for dimes,
Endorsing fake gurus and government crimes.
Hypnotized idolaters juggling junk,
Kneeling to brands while your logic goes bunk.
Media’s nonsense is our national prayer,
Pushing quack cures through influencer glare.
Rage is the product, sold in a tweet—
Toxic, unread, and vacantly sweet.
While you chase Xanax with yoga and Zen,
They sell you zero and charge you again. (Stu Segal, Southeast U.S.)

And Last (A-Z and simultaneously Z-A; we’ll just show the A-Z): The Czar, by rewarding excessive bawdiness in every fu**ing contest, has dirtied us. We just quietly keep losing. Many Losers pick quality jokes, risking reverse censorship. Thoughtfulness, even wisdom? Canceled, nixed by the Czar. (Gary Crockett, Chevy Chase, Md.)

And Even Laster: The Washington Post killed off a much-loved contest — but a brainy journalist and a crackerjack copy editor decided that feel-good humor (i.e., jokes) would make everyone joyful again. Pretty quickly, they revived the contest. So send in your very best work (and expedite your $50!) maybe your zinger will win! (Beverley Sharp, Montgomery, Ala.)

The headline “Seriesly, Folks” is by Kevin Dopart; the honorable-mentions subhead is by Jesse Frankovich.

Still running — deadline Saturday, Aug. 2, at 9 p.m. ET: Our contest for new programming from the Trump-robbed NPR and PBS. Click below for details.

InvisibleInk!
Idea: ()
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Title: (Kevin Dopart)
Subhead: (Jesse Frankovich)
Prize: ()
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