Zack: Wood dowel? Hell yeah! This guy probably just stood in this exact position with this exact expression on his face during all the judge's questions. Maybe once in a while opening his mouth a little bit like he's going to say something or blinking a couple times.
Dr. Thorpe: His thought process beforehand was probably: "How can I work my love of hurting people into a science fair project? Perhaps if I build some sort of a device to shoot bits of wood at them..." That's the translated version, of course, in his head is was more like "heh heh heh... queers... GET 'EM!"
Zack: I have no doubt in my mind that this science project was originally an industrial arts project.
Dr. Thorpe: Yeah, there's one class that this kid isn't an abject failure in, so he has to kind of spread his woodshop success into all his classes. English final: a model of a catapult not unlike one that Shakespeare may have used.
Zack: Math: a ballista that you can shoot at a calculator. Home Ec: Well, he hasn't figured out how to make a battering ram bake a sugar cookie, but he's really close.
Dr. Thorpe: Physics: dropping Petey White off the top of the industrial arts building.
Zack: This guy is probably in prison by now for serial arson or assault with a steam-hammer made out of plywood.
Dr. Thorpe: As a side note, I think this kid grew up to be the cave troll from Lord of the Rings.
Zack: I'm sure he tested into that job through the Guidance Counselor. "It's either a Tolkein monster or landscaping. Are you Mexican? Oh, well, I'm sorry then."
Dr. Thorpe: And he just sat there with that exact same look on his face.
Your guide to the main subreddits that there are.
"Oh, look, it's me from the future! And there's another me, made of anti-matter! All three of us are reaching out towards the exact same point in space, our fingertips on a collision course."
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.