This week’s pennjillette is Reverend Couchsloth, who joins in the second half of the show to confirm Fidd’s spiritual diagnosis. Reverand [sic] peas [sic] can’t seem to stop talking about how tort reform will affect NASA. Doktor Faux blows bubbles into the microphone in an attempt to appeal to our five-to-nine-year-old demographic. Fidd looks into the show code and discovers that robot nipples are programmed to twist themselves. The unacceptable truth that the End Times of every religion have ALREADY HAPPENED on the SAME DATE IN THE PAST is revealed. All listeners to this episode will have the overdue balances Blockbuster accounts WIPED CLEAN. You’re welcome.
You are going to SHIT YOUR FACE when you hear this episode. This week’s magic phrase is “Nariff Nariff Barungaroo”. Doktor/Engineer/Doktor Faux is running the show from Hypercube HQ all by his lonesome while Fidd Chewley calls in from Tampa and Reverand [sic] peas [sic] calls in from his desert hidey-hole. The hosts attempt to play a new game, “That’s Racist”, but peas has to be a crybaby about the rules, so the game is abandoned in favor of the tried-and-true game, “Is It a Band”. The militantism of tennis ball-boys and executive chefs is explained. Fidd Chewley wins the Kenny Floyd Memorial Award for most drunken podcruster. The entire second hour of the show is spent speculating on what kind of dress what’s-her-tits is going to wear to the royal wedding.
It’s the New Year’s Eve episode of a podcast, which means you already know it’s going to suck and the hosts will get wasted, HOWEVER COMMA business still gets done, yo. Dok Cosmac is in the studio to join the hosts for the final Is It a Band game of the season, after which an ultimate champ is crowned and the season’s statistics are released by Judge Scalpod. After stumbling through the Blind Eye and viewer mail segments, peas apologizes for the episode and 2018 in general. With the final show of the year in the can, Fidd & Faux pack the entire season in a truck and drive it into Yucca Mountain.