The Zest of the Void

We are not food, we are people. They have a Crunchwrap Supreme with my face on it, Casey. My face on the wrapper. Dude, are those Doritos Locos tacos? Wait, Sway, no. We are not solidarity, bro. I can't resist the aroma anymore, Casey. I'm filled with premium seasoned beef. Whoa, that's a bold flavor profile, man. Try some of my spicy ramp. Desist at once. We must maintain our integri-- My God, the zest. No. [screaming] [lasers blasting] You have been rescued by the greatest hero in the galaxy. Where is Two? Tucker, there were three of us in that straw. Dude, the beam tasted like ranch. [machine whirring] [panting] Where am I? I was in a straw, now there's bricks. Am I a hallucination? Am I the hallucination? [explosion] Tucker, the portal is collapsing, and it's taking the floor with it. Good news. I found one bar of Wi-Fi in the void. There are two of you? Which one is real? [screaming] Franken-Fuck wants Monster Mash. We are not doing Monster Mash, Carl. Okay, so here's the thing. I actually had a whole playlist ready, and [static] I was going to explain it, but yeah. Franken-Fuck does not understand. Nobody does. Franken-Fuck sees ghost steer. It's a self-driving car, Carl. Technology. Actually, the navigational logic is based on a heuristic model. I was just about to- Franken-Fuck does not define fond. [static] [Monster Mash] Oh, we're in the hallucination station. Great. I was about to mention the walls are made of teeth. Franken-Fuck loves new friends teeth walls. Yeah. [tense music] [button clicking] [door opening] Franken-Fuck, push the shiny scream. Finally. Sweet, sweet insanity. The ceiling is singing in a language made of hair, and it is quite judgmental. [crunch] [singing] Thank you. Thank you very much. The king has arrived. Clearly a commentary on parasocial celebrity worship coated in crustacean semantics. Al, Al, he has a pompadour, and he has claws. I love him so much I'm going to pass out. I am not a crustacean. I am an entertainer. Thank you very click, click, click much. It's September. It's only September. Why is he here? [machine whirring] He seems nice. Back in '94, pal, Christmas started in July. Ask anybody. [phone hanging up]