This episode is sponsored by Flo-tato: the official life-preserver of the sovereign nation of Ireland. You are going to SHIT YOUR OWN FACE when you hear this episode. Elon Musk calls in to tell us why he’ll never call in to our show. Things may not be going ideally for you, but at least your nipples don’t look like pieces of half-chewed gum. Inspector Gadget is revealed to be a go-go-gadget racist! Reverend Scalpod returns to officiate this week’s round of “Is It a Band?”. Fidd and peas have a rare moment of mutual appreciation of each other’s choices for this week’s Blind Eye segment. Dok Faux basically shakes his head and reevaluates his life LIVE ON THE AIR. The militantism of tennis ballboys is revealed to be the future of the United States of Florida.
The sound sucked on the last show suck’d, so here’s a bunch of pre-recorded stuff edited together into some kind of show-like conflagration! In this, the most un-lost-est of episodes, our pennjillette is Reverend Caller 23, in the studio for gardening tips and best practices regarding the storage of coin polish. reverand [sic] peas [sic] had a bad day and subsequently fades in and out of a Discord coma. Doktor Faux explains the perils of non-standard jar threading. Fidd Chewley offers his patented Do’s-and-Dont’s regarding false memory implantation. Listen to this episode seven times in a row and win an ice cube tray full of George Wasington Memorial Toothpaste!
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.
