Hey there, children! Want to experience some math that’s FUN? Solve the following problem:
“Luka and Skullard’s adventuring party infiltrated the temple of the beheaded snake god only to be attacked by 592 ravenous degenerate snake-folk cultists. After horrifically slaughtering half of them with a blade barrier spell, tossing bloody viscera in every direction, the gore-soaked survivors ran and hid from the elven invaders in eight seperate chambers of the temple. If the cowardly snake-folk are hiding in equal numbers, how many degenerates are in each chamber?”
Here’s a hint: the answer is the same as this podcast’s episode number. Now, remember to show your work.
The Bad Seed (1956) is a cultural touch-stone and the topic of Luka’s Bad Movie Review this week. This is a Great Unintenionally Bad Movie that dealt with psychopathic serial killers before they were cool. Rhoda, the cute little blood-thirsty wench of this story will not only creep you out with her manipulative manners and flares of temper, but you’ll never look at girls with blonde braids the same way again. So much for afternoons watching the Brady Bunch while sipping Swiss Miss cocoa.
We get more milage from Prof. Stock’s Book of Questions. And once again, Skullard proves he’s a coniving bastard who twists the intent of the various scenarios to his own advantage. It’s amazing he hasn’t got further in life, seeing as the universe is essentially unfair and favors the selfish and the mean.
Meet Sgt. Harry J Wheeler, New York’s top K-9 cop. You can check out his official profile here.
From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: The happy family scene . . . or is it?
Mommy wears a yellow blouse, daddy wears a tie,
Josh and I wear jammies ’cause it’s time for beddie-bye,
“Can we stay up, daddy?” I give him sad eyes, “Please?”
He laughs and tells me, “Sorry squirt” as I bounce upon his knees.
Josh pouts behind daddy’s head, trying to look cute,
Mommy laughs and nudges him, “You heard him, kiddos. Scoot.”
Josh is in position and his eyes lock into mine,
They had their chance, I nod just once, giving him the sign.
Josh’s arms push against the back of daddy’s head,
While legs and ankles lock the neck to crush the corotted.
I bring my heel down fast and hard into daddy’s sack,
Then knee-drop on his diaphragm, pressing the attack.
Daddy’s air comes whooshing out, he tries to talk but squeaks,
He can’t break Josh’s sleeper hold (we practiced this for weeks)
Mommy finally figures out we’re not playing any more.
Her cry of fear masks the sound of flapping doggie-door.
“Xerxes,” I command our dog and point to mom, “Subdue!”
The rottweiler leaps at mommy’s neck as daddy’s turning blue.
In moments it’s all over, we’re staying up tonight,
In the basement mommy and daddy will wake up to their plight,
Duct taped naked on the floor, there they wait for doom,
Think of this next time you send your kids off to their room.
Please observe as a snooty, racist dog learns that friendship is about more than body shape and fur color. It’s Skipper Learns a Lesson (1952)!