Dr. Thorpenstein: If you're going to put your cat through the misery of dressing it up in a costume, I feel like you at least owe it to the poor animal to dress it up as something anyone on earth might have a chance of recognizing.
Zackula: If cats ever lost the millennia long war against dogs this is what the survivors would be forced to wear.
Dr. Thorpenstein: Yeah, this couldn't be anything but a punishment/humiliation hat. "Hey, what's your cat dressed up as?" "I don't give a shit. I'm making my cat wear that hat because my cat sucks."
Zackula: The dog's pleasure barge arrives and the cats are marched off with stickers all over their bodies and their ladybug shame helmets on. Jeering dogs waving velcro and mouse fishing poles at the defeated cats.
Dr. Thorpenstein: I know we've made jokes about these cats looking miserable, but this poor cat's expression is really getting to me.
Dr. Thorpenstein: This one is too much. This cat has a face like, "Man, I really miss that lab where they used to do medical experiments on me."
Zackula: Please just test some makeup on me. The eye stuff. My body is ready for rabies.
Dr. Thorpenstein: If a cat somehow gets demoted from its vivisection job, this is where it winds up.
Zackula: The other cats whisper about the fate of their poor friend who was wheeled off to the costume division.
Zackula: "I heard they're making him wear it for hours. They're using it as a restraint."
Facebook must remain unflagging in its vigilance against titties even in these troubled times of rising fascism.
It needs to consume human tissue! It needs to speak to your manager!
Reason 9: Ongoing mechanical issues with the internal Superman 64 fog machine.
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.