Dr. Thorpe: "Are you sure we should venture into this ruined castle, Dr. Hockney? The tales the locals tell are quite macabre."
Dr. Thorpe: "Nonsense, Terry, it's the only way to unlock the fantastic secret of creating life... and death."
Zack: "Jeepers Dr. Hockney, are those real skulls?"
Zack: "Dear Terry, at times science must come clothed in the vestments of the macabre."
Dr. Thorpe: You know, you start to feel sorry for Terry because he has to do all this creepy shit with Dr. Hockney all the time, raising the dead and fighting werewolves with torches and stuff, but on the other hand, hanging out with Dr. Hockney is a great way to meet women.
Zack: And they are usually hot older women with a lot of good experience. Sure, they just want to use him to get to Dr. Hockney's formula, but Terry is willing to let them.
Dr. Thorpe: And Terry knows Dr. Hockney is always going to bail him out of the worst kinds of trouble at the last minute, so, for example, when he meets a succubus he just says "what the hell, I'm going to go with it, Hockney will kill her before she steals my soul." And Hockney always does, so Terry gets laid by a beautiful succubus and then doesn't even have to cuddle afterwards because Hockney just put a dagger through her temple at the last second.
Dr. Thorpe: Same thing with vampires. He'll get seduced by a harem of beautiful vampires, let them have their way with him, and then five seconds before they're about to bite his neck, Hockney kicks the door down and throws stakes through each of their hearts with lightning speed.
Zack: And even if he fucks the werewolf girl and gains the gypsy Curse of the Lupine he will end up getting it reversed by Dr. Hockney. So it's a lot of sex with no strings attached if he can just put up with some poltergeists and chanting.
Dr. Thorpe: I bet on the weekends Terry waits until Dr. Hockney leaves to get groceries, and then he sneaks into the lab and gets awesomely high on Black Dragon Powder or something.
Zack: Maybe Dr. Hockney benefits from it in a similar fashion. Maybe all of his capers and schemes are just an elaborate ruse to watch from concealment as his strapping young companion is mounted by a series of prostitutes paid handsomely to impersonate creatures of the night.
Dr. Thorpe: But the trick is, he really does kill them at the end. Terry's not a dumb guy, so Hockney really has to go overboard with the blood and gore and mutilation if he's going to get him to believe it.
Zack: All of these mysteries and paranormal sightings are just a cover for a pornographic voyeur website Dr. Hockney is making serious money on. Monsters I'd Like to Fuck.
Dr. Thorpe: I think you just came up with a million-dollar idea.
Zack: Dr. Hockney would be a total perfectionist though and he would thoroughly research all of the monsters and make the hookers go through some elaborate coaching to really portray their monstrous nature. And if they fuck up then he immediately shoots them through the neck with a crossbow and leaps into frame to save the day.
Dr. Thorpe: Terry secretly knows what's going on, I think. But free sex is free sex.
Zack: Like he would make the naga woman wear some animatronic snake body molded around her vagina and when it starts to droop off while she is trying to "coil Terry in her lustful embrace" Dr. Hockney would swing in on a rope and lop off her head.
Dr. Thorpe: Plus, he knows Hockey would kill him in a second if he thought he was on to him.
Zack: Actually, this website sounds pretty hot. I think I need to find a fortune of lost Spanish gold to finance my adventures with my strapping young friend. Once it got going it would pay for itself, but it's going to take a lot of startup money to buy the centaur suit.
Dr. Thorpe: And it's hard to find handsome, effete young dandies nowadays. Unless you import them, but the tariffs are pretty high.
Zack: Well maybe I could just go for an American urban youth and have him fucking urban monsters. Like he could fuck the Candyman and those cockroach people from "Mimic." I could combine that with urban exploration to make Urbexxx.com
Dr. Thorpe: Yeah, or imagine the Predator bending him over a burnt-out car, turning invisible, and going to town on him.
Zack: Or CHUDS in a group scene or maybe a giant alligator. Man, none of the urban monsters are hot women.
Dr. Thorpe: What about Species?
Zack: I don't know if I want to get into aliens. That might ruin the believability.
The singer dove off the stage and crowd surfed in a sort of reverse funeral procession where the person being carried is the only one truly alive. Touching him I felt religious ecstasy and started speaking in tongues and requesting songs that didn't exist.
There's no easy way to put this, so I'll tell it like it is. Bouillon is died. He went missing before the weekend and yesterday I found his skeletonized remains at the bottom of the #3 soup vat during one of my swims. I thought the cream of mushroom soup had an especially nourishing taste, and a lot more clumps of fur and skin than usual.
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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.