Dr. Thorpe: FAGNA!
Zack: This one is just way too busy. You've got horses and karate and flamethrowers and everyone is grunting and looking really serious.
Dr. Thorpe: That son of a bitch just shot Santosh!
Zack: That's his problem now. Santosh is not going to take that lightly.
Dr. Thorpe: "I'll get you for this, Fagna!"
Zack: So is Fagna the Solomon Grundy guy in the blue jacket or is he the guy in the upper left with the revolver? I'm not sure which one shot Santosh.
Dr. Thorpe: Maybe they both work for an organization called FAGNA which hunts down pan-dimensional monsters.
Zack: They've tracked Santosh to the wild west wasteland and they've brought several women to serve as bait for their crack karate squads and flamethrower teams. But they've made a fatal mistake: their women aren't lump-faced uggos. Santosh will not fall for this trap.
Dr. Thorpe: "You dare to bring attractive women before Santosh? FAGNA shall fall under my flaming hooves!"
Zack: "Your bullets and gusts of fire make me laugh! I will crack your skulls between my teeth like walnuts and suck out the sweet meats of your brains."
Dr. Thorpe: He looks like he's laughing hysterically at FAGNA's cheap attempts to destroy him. He's looking forward to licking out their tender eyeballs with his big rough horse tongue.
Zack: He'll let one of them live and tell them to take a message to FAGNA HQ. "Bring me the harlots thick of thigh and slow of wit or I will find your hidden base and scourge you all."
Dr. Thorpe: And then they send their knife-wielding commando to round up all the fat, scantily clad women he can find. By force, if necessary.
Zack: They would start by putting up posters inviting "simple women" to a "fabulous world of adventure" but word of Santosh has spread throughout the land so they end up having to kick in doors and kidnap women for Santosh. It's ironic really, that the organization founded to hunt and destroy Santosh would end up desperately trying to meet his demands. Of course it's all their fault for trying to kill him. They should have known better and just stayed out of his way.
Dr. Thorpe: Even worse, the flames in the background show that the Khatarnak is near.
Zack: He's such a media whore. He can't stand idly by while Santsoh steals all the headlines.
Dr. Thorpe: Pretty soon he's going to be stomping around tearing up FAGNA agents and installing Linux on their computers without explaining how to use it first, insisting that they're totally going to love it and they'll never go back to Windows again.
Zack: "OPERATING SYSTEM VULNERABLE TO VIRUS AND SPYWARE! ME RAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGH FIX IT! LINUX! PROBLEM SOLVED!" Then he struggles to retell the tale on IRC to all his buddies but his fingers are so thick he can barely type.
TOTAL WRECK - crazy-eyed hound is covered in cobwebs, has a vespiary on back, graffiti on side and savage thirst for boat fuel. Frankly, I'm in over my head. He's in room 115 at Motel 6, yours free. 555-2851
Yes, it's the perfect form for surviving a car crash. But it's also the perfect form for so much more, like surviving the trauma of reading any news headline in 2016.
Fashion SWAT... the fashion industry is obsessed with impracticality. We know that what designers create was never meant to be worn by the grimy masses, but that doesn't somehow diminish how ridiculous many of these costumes are. Make no mistake, they are costumes, and like a Halloween prize pageant we will turn our discerning gaze on the grievous fashion misfires of Paris, Milan, and New York. We're not pulling any punches, and we're definitely not interested in making any friends. We're Joan Rivers without Melissa Rivers to temper our screeching. We're the Fashion Police in jack boots. We are Fashion SWAT.