Novel & Cerita Inappropriate News Bloopers

Instead he felt like he’d just handed someone a loaded gun and asked them not to point it at Jamie. The anonymous tip was the problem. Someone had seen enough—enough to write words like “inappropriate closeness” and “rooftop incident.” Someone had watched them long enough to notice the way Julian’s hand lingered too long on Jamie’s lower back in the hallway, or the way their eyes found each other across the open floor more often than professional courtesy allowed.

the reporter ended the live video and was stunned by the shocked look on the faces of his colleagues. “What is with the look?” “You had called her Nuella Armstrong” “Yes, isn’t that her name” The senior reporter hit his head which shocked him “Sir did I do anything wrong?” He did not know his fault. “How dare you call her Nuella Armstrong!! Do you know the kind of trouble we are in now!!” The junior reporter became confused “But isn’t she an Armstrong?” “Are you stupid, did you forget whose wife she is!! It seems you did not read the information I gave to you, you are new doesn’t mean you should make such a silly mistake!!”

" The rumours about Politician Williamson's Daughter-in-law are proved wrong by an anonymous witness who sent CCTV footage of her collapsing in a café due to her stress and lack of sleep. He reported that she was taken to the shop owner's house after getting permission from two police officers who were patrolling the area. She was treated by a doctor and sent back home safely soon after! And, I, Anchor Amelie, apologize on behalf of my team and the company for releasing news without investigating the situation. We are ashamed of this kind of behaviour. I hope the Williamson family and Turner family accept our apologies!" " How did you do it?" Mr. Williamson asks, astonished by the news. The

Plus he’d also had the recent health scare. But this wasn’t about any of these. He had demanded to know what was going on in the news, or as he liked to put it “this hogwash blasting through the television.” I had no idea what he was talking about, but he urged me to get in touch with our press team as soon as possible. More confused than I had been in the past week, I immediately checked my iPhone to bring me up to speed. Turning it off of Do Not Disturb mode, the flood of messages came swimming in. Some were ‘congratulations’ on getting married, others were slandering Emily, and even a few maliciously attacking her, calling her a ‘homewrecker.’

Nor was she the type to spread gossip about someone. "Yeah. I read they're all nice to their fans," Kel said over the phone. "Where?" Jessi held her loofa now. "Forums. And the comments section on their bloopers videos. Is it weird that I read 'em all?" Kel replied with a quick giggle. "No. Not at all. To each their own," Jessi retorted as she filled the bathtub with more warm water. The liquid soap she was using was already filling the tub with foam and bubbles.

Herry grumbled impatiently, "So embarrassing." He pulled Emily inside, hesitated for a moment, then pulled Mr. Satan in as well, slamming the door shut and locking it from the inside. Emily asked him, "Have you seen the news about Sophia?" "Yeah," Herry replied nonchalantly. "It’s disgusting. She deserves all the criticism she's getting." Emily felt a wave of awkwardness. Even though the critical parts of the photos were blurred, they were still inappropriate for a minor.

he asked. I blinked. “Mind what?” He tilted his head, studying me like I was a puzzle. “The rumors. After the event. People have… thoughts.” I smirked. “People always have thoughts. You’d think being boring would stop that, but no such luck.” He gave me a look. “You think I’m boring?” “I think you’ve perfected the art of emotionally constipated silence. Which, I’ve got to admit, is impressive.” He laughed quietly, quickly, like he didn’t mean to. “There’s a thread going around. A video of us walking into the event. Someone edited dramatic music over it and called it ’Forbidden Romance.’”

“I used to like hockey just fine. Now I think I might be allergic.” “Fair. Sport’s ruined for me too sometimes. I do lighting for the jumbotron. Every time they put up another slow-mo of some guy’s ass I die a little inside.” That got another laugh out of me. “You see a lot of weird shit back there?” “You have no idea. Last week some kid proposed during a timeout and she said no. On the big screen. Brutal.” “Jesus.” “Yeah. I turned the spotlight on them by accident. Felt bad for days.”

“Also, Barbie? Come on. The man thinks you’re pretty.” “He thinks I’m an annoying rookie.” “Please.” She rolled her eyes. “The grumpy ones are always the worst. They act like they hate you, then suddenly they’re completely obsessed.” [I know guys like him.] I opened my mouth to argue with her ridiculous logic, but I never got the chance. The small television screen mounted on the bulkhead in front of us suddenly flashed, cutting to a breaking news broadcast. The volume was barely a whisper, but the bold red text scrolling across the bottom of the screen grabbed both of our attention immediately.

I jump out of my seat then and reach for my phone, hands trembling. “Bullshit. It’s all bullshit.” I say to myself over and over again. “Sir, I think you should take a moment to breathe and–” I burst out laughing, startling Peter who goes wide-eyed at my sudden reaction. “It’s all bullshit don’t you think?” I am saying this to him now, “Since when did news channels start spreading false news? Who the fuck ordered them to do this? Oh, they’re going to regret ever messing with me.” I search my phone desperately for a number to call.