Luka and Skullard have been sick with colds, insomnia, and various other horrifying maladies. But now we have come back to pod a cast again for your temporary amusement. This episode will answer several of your burning questions such as; how long does it take to clean up a pile of sticks? What will non-pregnant Luka name her non-existent baby? What do Justin Long’s Eyeballs taste like? Why is there a security camera hidden in that window? Does Panera Bread control our fate? What would license plate Jesus do? And so on!
My little brother was hit by a car. AGAIN. What an idiot! Maybe throwing a bunch of dull statistics in his face will teach him a lesson about bicycle safety. Please enjoy the blatent tomfoolery of The Bicycle Clown (1958)!
The apocalypse is nigh! Isn’t it always? Anyway, admit your sins and fall to your knees, jackass!
The Bride and the Beast (1958) has all of the casual sexism and racism that you’d expect from a B Horror Exploitation film of that era. But since Ed Wood was involved in the writing of this film, it also has not-so-subtle undertones of bestiality and several nice angora sweaters. But rather than rehash Luka’s Bad Movie Review, why not just revisit some of the highlights with our buddies from Rifftrax. (You can get the whole riffed movie over at Rifftrax.com.)
“Ya wanna go get burgers? Or would ya rather some pizza?”
“Dude! We should, like, totally do both! Y’know, at the same time and shit!”
And because Pizza Hut will always cater to their stoner demographic, we now have this: the Cheese Burger Pizza. Doesn’t it look delicious, or somewhat fancy, or perhaps confused about it’s true purpose?
Of course, even with fantasy food, the reality never really matches up to the hype, does it?
First were the Famous Bowls where they mixed your dinner together in a big cup, handed you a spoon and dared you to eat it. Then there was the Double Down, a ham sandwich that substituted chicken fillets for the bun because they weren’t moving enough napkins. Now there is KFC‘s latest atrocity, the Double Down Dog, which is not a porn movie about gangbangs on yoga mats but instead something much less wholesome. It’s a wiener wrapped in fried chicken with cheese and mustard. If you really must see it you can click on this photo link right here, but we wouldn’t advise it. Perhaps less threatening is KFC‘s new “Scoff-ee Cup” edible coffee cups made of cookie, white chocolate and sugar paper. Because nothing goes as well with artery clogging food experiments as a nice, hot coffee served in a melting, soggy biscuit. Let’s just stop pretending; KFC hates everybody and wants us all dead.
In this week’s educational short, we deal with the emotional ups and downs of children and not of adults who just act like children. You know who you are.
From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: Before KFC decided to commit its culinary crimes, there was Tiny. Here’s Tiny with his “completely original” hot dog car. Oscar Meyer considered suing Tiny for copyright infringement, but the case was dropped after Tiny ate the vehicle in question.
According to the New York Daily News, divorces spike right after Valentine’s Day. It’s not that hard to understand, really. Expectations get built up and a lady thinks her man is going to show her some romantic appreciation only to have him come home to plunk down on the couch to watch ESPN and scratch his blorgles. It’s a let down to say the very least, and when people forget to say the very least, i.e. “Oh, by the way, I love you,” the unappreciated partner decides to pull the rip chord. Researchers asked 2,000 Americans about their relationship status just a week before Valentine’s Day and one in ten of them were thinking about dumping the person they’re currently with. Apparently VD acts as a trigger, and the divorce lawyers start finding their appointment calendars full. But before we let this news bring us down, let’s look on the bright side: none of these couples should have ever been together in the first place, right? If a relationship was so fragile that a Hallmark Holiday can smash it to pieces, what you have is two people who need to move on to something better and brighter. Stop trying to patch a leaky tire of a relationship with chocolate and a bouquet from the 7-11. If you’re not gifting, romancing and making with the happy yum-yums all year long, not even a diamond pendant is going to save you. It’s time you give up, break up, move out and move on. Happy Valentine’s Day from What Could Go Wrong?, your gurus of stable relationship advice.
Valentine (2001) is a lack-luster teen slasher film that never rises to even its waist-level potential. Not even Denise Richards, who was able to build an entire career on a pert nose, was able to build any suspense in this yawner. Sure, beat up the social misfit at the Valentine’s dance after stripping him to his skivvies in front of the girls and then send him off to military school to work out, train, fester and plan. What do you expect to happen? This story is as unpredictable as a bus schedule, but at least riding a bus you’ll see more developed characters and it’ll be going somewhere. It’ll probably smell better too.
In most parts of the world, it would take various pieces of equipment, hardware and an instructional body tattoo to pull off a massive prison break. In Brazil, these are all the tools you need.
Valentine’s is a huge holiday for giving flowers, second only to Mother’s Day which just goes to show you how many people out there are motherfuckers. But where do all these flowers come from, how do they reproduce, and is it a story suitable for family viewing? Turns out, flowers are flirty little tramps that put it out there for all comers. Of course, Flowers At Work (1956) isn’t going to say as much. They use scientific jargon as befitting an educational short. But we know. Oh yeah, baby, we know how those flowers really are. Oh yeah . . .
From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: Valentine’s Day has traditionally been the time to give citrus fruit to the one you love. It’s so sensuous. With all the peeling, pulling, separating squirting segments and spitting out the pips, it’s a sticky, juicy joy to share with that special someone. And yes, I have now reached the point where I can make anything dirty. “Packed in Fillmore”, eh? Fillmore where the Sunkist don’t shine, am I right? Huh? Ya feel me?
What Could Go Wrong? is brought to you this week by CONTEMPT. Are your upstairs neighbors beneath you? Were you fed up with hipsters before it was trendy? Do you keep replacing your watch battery only to find everything still so five minutes ago? Maybe it’s time you tried CONTEMPT. CONTEMPT lasts five times longer than hate, and it’s less filling. CONTEPMT gives you all the satisfaction of condemnation without those unsightly bulges. CONTEMPT comes with both a handle and a convenient shoulder strap so you can take it with you anywhere, plus they’ve added an expandable storage pocket so you can hold even more things in CONTEMPT. At some point, mere disappointment always lets you down, so why not try CONTEMPT today? Only $19.95 at your favorite store ($29.95 at stores unworthy of your business). Try CONTEMPT . . . or we might think less of you.
Troll 2. Luka watched this movie several times now in order to properly review it. You people owe her big time.
The shopkeeper in this scene turned out to be a mental patient on a day pass. Years later, he admits that the nut-jobbery you see in his eyes is the real deal. He’s better now, thanks to proper medication, but sanity’s gain is Hollywood’s loss, don’t you think?
Jimmy the Groundhog doesn’t know this guy’s the Mayor, just that his meaty ear looks like it would be good with some Steve’s Pepper Sauce. The Mayor keeps his composure somewhat, but he knows people. This will not go unanswered, be assured. Jimmy the Groundhog is going to get a visit from Mickey the Wrench and Tommy the Anvil.
The crowning of this year’s Miss Amazonas in Brazil would have gone unnoticed by the world if not for a last minute performance by the runner-up.
That Susie, she’s such a doll. She’s a life-sized doll that little Nancy dresses up to look like herself, even going so far as to share the same hairstyle. “You know how it is,” says Nancy’s dad in this film, “when a little girl has no brothers or sisters.” Yeah, we know how it is, dad. It’s called extreme narcissism, and your daughter’s rejecting relationships with real children in favor of a plastic reflection of herself. Nice parenting there, pops. Now that the family’s got the idea of seatbelts nailed down, maybe we can move counseling for your child a little higher up in the agenda. Why is it that whenever they show us a film about the value of seatbelts they always feature people we wouldn’t mind seeing flung out from the passenger-side door on a tight turn. Still, there is a cloying sweetness to the juvenile “Love Object” relationship we find in Safetybelt For Susie (1962).
From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: Remember those innocent days of yesteryear where beauty queens toured on busses and could stand in a straight line without being told to do so? No one was yanking anyone else’s tiara off and throwing it to the ground. All the girls were graceful and charming, driving from town to town to bring beauty and poise to all. Of course, once they were back on the bus and on the road, who knows what went on between these women, but I like to imagine it was a tight community of fun-loving, supportive lesbians who lived life to the fullest. At least, that how I’m going to imagine it.
We’ve been having a terrible time sleeping lately. Actually, Luka’s been dealing with insomnia forever while Skullard’s only been having minor trouble recently. The nice thing about being a couple is that when one person starts developing a chronic problem the other person who’s been crippled by it for years already can guide the first one through the process. “Hey there, welcome to insomnia. Come in and help your self to a non-stimulating drink. Feel free to sit anywhere and get comfortable with the idea that you’ll never be comfortable again.” Of course, Skullard’s current problem of waking up too early and not going back to sleep is hardly on the same level as Luka’s vacant, bloodshot eyes staring for hours into the night’s lightless void, plus it does give him the chance to blearily fiddle with his iPad in bed with his glasses off. You would think that since we’re spending so much time just lying there, unable to shut our brains off, we’d be coming up with all sorts of ideas about the podcast and how to make it even more entertaining. You’re cute.
SEE words come up on the screen! READ what they have to say! Never before has a trailer lacked so much content FROM THE FILM IT’S PROMOTING! And it’s all done in the THIRD DIMENSION, by which we mean you can reach out and try to touch the screen you’re reading this on almost as if it were right in front of you which it is. Movie? Who cares! All that matters is you haul your ass down to the theater and WATCH House of Wax (1953)!
According to the most recent reports at the time of posting, Bart the Zombie Cat is recovering from his various surgeries, eating and happy. His vet bills were covered by many donations from people all over the internet who figured, “Shit, if he can dig his way out of a grave after being dead for five days, I can at least toss him a couple of bucks. Just so long as I don’t have to touch him. Yeesh.” Bart’s disciples have all now come out of hiding saying they knew this resurrection was going to happen all along and are going forth to preach the Kingdom of Bart.
Mickey’s got the coolest older brother in the world. He’s going away, presumably to partake in some sex-cult, and leaving his bitchin’ boss ride behind for others to drool over. Can Mickey drive the car that works like a chick-magnet, attracting women this kid would have no idea what to do with once he has them? Only if he can learn the AAA rules of the road, so study up, ya mush-head. Learn along with this covetous little shit in Mickey’s Big Chance (1952).
From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: Dames. Am I right?
For years, the world over, many people had very good associations with the brand name “Cadbury”,
And all year they’d dream of chocolate eggs filled with cream – In any Easter basket they always reigned supreme.
But this week we find out that Kraft is going to mess with the sacred eggs we love so much – they’re fucking with the recipe,
To save a little money, “Yeah, they’ll taste a little funny, but don’t worry, we’ll still give you the chicken-clucking bunnies.”
They don’t care about the difference an ingredient makes, but if you’re going to fuck with my Cadbury Eggs, fuck you! Fuck you!
Hey Kraft, you want to change something? Maybe you should start with those mac and cheese boxes and oversized marshmallows,
Or those American Singles, the ones that taste like shingles and clog up your bloodstream ’till your left arm tingles.
You can’t trust anything in this world when you have all of these greedy corporate bastards taking short-cuts with the quality,
Of stuff we’ve loved since childhood – do they really think that we would spend our money on these eggs that won’t taste the way that they should?
I know one hand gives while the other hand takes, but you’re going to take away my Cadbury Eggs? Fuck you! Fuck you!
The local pharmacy had these on the clearance table, so Skullard bought them out. Sure, they’re from Halloween, but so what? These are desperate times.
Luka has a new boyfriend. Handsome devil, isn’t he?
These are totally unnecessary. We bought some for Luka immediately.
In Fangs of the Living Dead (1969) we get this great catfight when Blinka and her two friends gang up on Bertha in an epic battle of the bulges. Uncle Pervy stands there watching, apparently enjoying the spectacle as much as we do.
Some relationships scar you for life. Jeanne gets plenty of attention from the fellas, but she likes to run with the bad boys. Nick has the need for speed, and driving fast really revs Jeanne’s engine. Does anyone NOT see where this is going? Needless to say, once Jeanne is released from the hospital, she realizes things can never be the same for her and her disfigured mug. That fateful night has turned out to be her Last Date (1947).
From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: Guitars make everything better. It’s a fact. Just look at this guy. He was going to throw himself into a Safeway cardboard compactor after he only got Runner-up in an Ernest Borgnine Look-a-Like contest. He had no girl, no dog, and his truck was repossessed (or maybe it was his dog that got repossessed – that part’s a little fuzzy), but his brother gave him a used guitar and a bottle of Listerine. He learned four chords and suddenly he realized he had all the makings of a country musician. Now he has friends in bars he would have never bothered going into before. He has something to talk about with like-minded idiots. People don’t immediately hate him. He has something else to do with his hands. The world is now a better place because of that guitar. The mouthwash was a big help too.
This may surprise you, but we actually play the lotto. It’s true, we toss hard-earned money away on the “stupidity tax” every month just to see our numbers never come up. We’re never going to win, and we know that. But we don’t play Powerball believing that some day we’ll hit it and become stinking rich. We play so that we can dream. Dreaming is completely different than believing. Carrying around a pocket full of “what if” and “wouldn’t it be nice” beats being weighed down by chains of “someday”. We’ll take a playful optimism over impatient surety any day of the week, but mostly on Wednesdays and Saturdays when they do the drawings. And should the impossible ever happen and we do win, we can devote ourselves full-time to this podcast. Either that, or we’re outta here, suckers.
Galaxy Invader (1985) is as entertaining as a worn-through, sweat-stained t-shirt. To be fair, the shirt might be more compelling. Here’s two of the shirt’s finest scenes from a film otherwise meant to be avoided at all cost.
K is for the keyhole you look through to view this twisted scene from a little girl’s nightmare. Ketchup? Is that really what’s staining the floor? Is the kangaroo kindly kissing that kitten, or merely tasting it? And who tied a kite to someone’s pet, then opened the damned window? A kitten komes akross a krime scene, kauses kaos and konfusion, receives the kiss of death from a kagey kangaroo and is killed via kite by a kryptic kriminal. It’s a konspiracy, I tell you!
We have a theory that the only reason they made I Dream of Jeannie was so they could dress up Barbara Eden up in different outfits like the living doll that she is. Feel free to pause this and go frame by frame as needed.
Luka’s latest discovery on Netflix is the Canadian horror/thriller series Darknet. Check out this playlist of their short teasers and see if it whets your appetite . . . for blood!
From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: “Hey, back off . . . that’s our bran, asshole. Don’t make us prove it, bitch. You don’t wanna know what happens to people who come between my girls and I and our fucking bran!”
New Year’s greetings to you, gentle listeners. Rather than comment on how awful 2014 was or make any questionable resolutions about how we won’t skip weeks of episodes in the year to come (ahem), let us hip you to the jive of our YouTube channel. Luka’s been doing her HorrorSnark channel for some years now, building up a huge collection of the tacky, retro and bizarre. Now she’s calling it “What Could Go Wrong?”, basing the name on some show or something . . . it’s an internet thing, we think. Please do check it out (and subscribe) at the What Could Go Wrong? YouTube Channel.
He should dress ‘im up all fancy in a matching suit and pants! Aw, how roly-poly.
Looks like a “Loser” to us.
“Hey Morton, pass the salt.” Nothing shines up a brand new paint job like burying a car in road salt. We suggest parking somewhere else in the future.
Just what every little girl wants for Christmas: Dil-Doh. Seriously, no one at Hasbro said, “Wait a second . . .”
This is horrifying. A child with a encephalopathic head tries to poison his dog with common household items. Then, for some reason, it gets racist. Watch this Precious Moments child try to kill his pet in Sniffy Escapes Poisoning (1967).
From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: “I’m gonna play with my baby bongos, have fun every day with my baby bongos . . . a bird is on that basket, not a baby in a casket so it’s not another baby corpse.”
Welcome to our discount website that doesn’t put us on Google Maps. For another $10 a month we could let everyone know where we live, but as it is we’ll just have to keep telling you all where you can go. This week’s episode is a full stocking of goodies, a fruitcake full of nuts and candies, a piñata stuffed with candy and toys, a grab-bag of surprises, a cookie tray, a box of chocolates from which you never know what you’ll get, a Deck of Many Things, a buffet plate your mother put together while you sat waiting at the table, a flea-infested carcass and other things you dare not ponder. It is our gift to you, dear listener, with our compliments and one or two happy returns. Have joyous whatever-the-fuck and may all you seasonal expectations be at least partially fulfilled.
You remember Toy Story, right? Well, this isn’t that. Sure, there’s a toy who feels threatened by the appearance of new toys and is willing to go to great lengths to make sure its beloved child doesn’t forget or neglect him. But past that familiar premise, things take a creepier, almost stalker-ish turn. Not since Glenn Close told Michael Douglas, “I will not be ignored!” has a jilted figure (or figurine) been willing to go so far to embed themselves in the heart of their obsession. See the desperation and tormented sense of betrayal that fuels A Christmas Fantasy (1930).
From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: You can tell how desperate FedEx is getting this time of year by the quality of the temporary drivers they’re willing to hire. I mean, look at this kid: she’s dropping packages and doesn’t bother going back to get them. And you can bet that freight isn’t organized by address. And what’s she going to do when her next delivery is uphill? Amateurs.
We may not have a bathroom as spacious as Walmart’s, but it’s important to dream. And by “dream” we mean sleep which we’re not getting enough of, so rather than sitting here typing clever shit that only you are going to read (and you KNOW who you are), we’re going to get on with our weekend. So there! And, uh, thanks for reading.
Here’s a pretty friend who visited Luka for peace and protection. Even in a maelstrom of screaming children, sometimes there are moments you can enjoy.
The Killer Shrews (1959) sucks carpeted dog balls, but for a quick and painless way to hit the highlights, join the MST3K boys for this brief appreciation.
Remember that great childhood game you knew as “Telephone”? Well it’s called “Quotations”, dummy, and it’s time you started getting that shit right. It’s important to get all your quotations right or you’ll never get the playground open on Saturday or you can’t play around with Mary on Saturday or Gary sat on the Merry-Go-Round all day or something to that effect. Find out for your stupid self by watching Watch That Quotation (1949).
From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: This postcard from The Bali Bar could have been an exact picture of the Kokomo’s bar that Luka bought her girly drink. Of course, it didn’t have an oily bartender like Lance Boyle here, but the décor was just the same. “Jack BAUERRRRRRRRRR!”