Dr. Thorpenstein: "Look! I'm the only homecooked food I've ever tasted!"
Zackula: It is super goddamn annoying that the "Mac-N-Cheese" text does not curve with the illusory surface of the bowl.
Dr. Thorpenstein: It's really breaking the illusion of this otherwise impeccably crafted costume.
Zackula: I mean if they're not even going to try - and obviously they aren't - then they should have just left it blank.
Dr. Thorpenstein: Maybe it's more of a caption. Maybe it's not supposed to be something written on the bowl, because who eats Mac-N-Cheese from a bowl marked Mac-N-Cheese? If you're poor enough to eat enough Mac-N-Cheese to warrant buying special bowls marked Mac-N-Cheese, you can't afford bowls marked Mac-N-Cheese.
Zackula: "Mommy! Mommy! Can I be a bowl of Macaroni this year for Halloween?" "Why that's ridiculous, Timmy, there would never be...ZOOGSTER YOU DID IT AGAIN!!"
Zackula: In America we don't even bother dressing up as monsters and demons anymore. We just dress up as food. Everything is slowly moving towards food, always, like the universe declines into entropic chaos, so too does America become all food.
Dr. Thorpenstein: Well, poor dietary choices probably kill more kids every year than demons, monsters and ghosts combined.
Zackula: I'd like to see the 2009 CDC figures on goblins before I agree with you.
Dr. Thorpenstein: I have some kind of gut-level disgust reaction to the thought of a child dressed in a savory food costume walking around collecting chocolate.
Dr. Thorpenstein: It's like a guy in a Smiths t-shirt buying a Metallica CD. It just doesn't makes sense.
Zackula: Yeah, I get that too. A little bit of toothpaste and orange juice feel to it. Maybe a little too much like cannibalism.
Dr. Thorpenstein: Now I'm thinking about it a little too hard and getting even more pissed off and grossed out and I just want to stop this Fashion SWAT right here and go to bed or something.
Zackula: You know what would be really good right now? A bowl of mac and cheese filled with half-melted mini Twix.
Dr. Thorpenstein: Hork.
Zackula: Maybe you would feel better if we moved on.
Dr. Thorpenstein: Let's do that, this is really making me lose my appetite for the big bowl of beef strew and grape Tootsie Pops I'm eating.
As the 19th century diver approaches a giant clam, a flash of brilliant golden light flares from within the shell. I emerge in a swirl of bubbles and do the timeless universal underwater hand signals for the following: ZODIAC KILLER, KKK, BLOOD OF YOUTH
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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.