Zack: TSATE THE RAINBWO! I think this poster was created in the midst of a grand mal epileptic seizure.
Dr. Thorpe: Or maybe red posterboard costs 20 cents more per sheet.
Zack: I think the most endearing testament to this project's shittiness is the spelling of the title right next to the skittles packages they glued to the posterboard.
Zack: I mean, if you can read the title through the blood smears.
Dr. Thorpe: I think the totally arbitrary hypothesis is the most important part, because it sheds some light on the scientist's motivation: he just really loves red.
Zack: Hypothesis: RED WILL RULE AS RED RULES AND SPREADS RED RUIN FROM MY RED RIGHT HAND!
Zack: Procedure: I ate three bags of Skittles.
Zack: Conclusion: TRAITOR YELLOW COWARD OF THE COLORS AND HATED ENEMY OF THE RED KING WAS VICTORIOUS THROUGH INSCRUTABLE TRICKERY AND SUBTERFUGE!
Dr. Thorpe: I wonder if the kid went into panic mode when he counted them because he already bought all this red paint in a fit of pro-red hubris, so confident was he in his hypothesis.
Zack: Really, it's impressive that his ethics allowed him to conclude yellow was the winner. It's not like anyone would have disputed his claim.
Dr. Thorpe: Maybe red actually DID win but he figured it would look a little fishy so he gave it to yellow instead to allay any potential suspicions.
Zack: Well, at least we know and the great SKITTELS conflict will come to an end. Yellow is the most prominate.
Dr. Thorpe: Red, while definitely the most pleasing to the eye, disappointed us. Hypothesis: workers at the SKITTELS factory cannot resist eating the red ones on the production line, thereby diminishing their numbers.
Celebrate diversity and inclusiveness at your next protest by not calling Donald Trump a nasty little-hands pisspig bitch.
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.