Uncyclopedia:Featured articles/March 8

Private Eye, that's what the letters spell out on the glass to the door of my office. New York City is a tough place to make a living and if you try to sing the blues you'll quickly find out that you're not even good enough to be another voice in the choir. Down on Broadway, it's a dog eat dog world so I make a little money on the side selling milk-bone underwear to hungry tourists or anything else that makes a sound like money. Anyone who lives here can smell the rat in this cheese factory but nobody's saying anything because having morals on Broadway is like celebrating mother's day at the orphanage - It makes you feel good but everyone stares at you like a nun in a string bikini. People don't normally need a Private Eye but when their chickens come home to roost it's a little like being the only cabbage farmer in town on St. Patrick's Day. Eventually they all show up at my door with a sob story and a dirty job that'll pay the bills. (Full article...)