An austere, godless sky, the elegiac tatters of a world that once knew hope but will no longer, only charred desolation to greet the eye for as far as one might care to look if only their gaze would be rent from the teeming doom written in the very soil, blighted and forskaen by the processes of life. Above it all, the telltale insignia of man’s own decisive vindication of his eviction from the Garden: It reads, simply, ‘Marge for President.’

The fellows muse once again on Keith’s impending and uncertain fate, where once a human soul did stir and yearn for warmth, now there is naught but a receding hall of mirrors, at center of which is a sepulcher-like recess in which is found only a melting simulacrum of humanity. It cannot bear your touch, so don’t even try. After that, most of the rest of the episode languishes in the depths of an interminable discussion about insects and the cruel pranks of nature which their existence constitutes. The term “semen icepick” is evoked. Kyle later has occasion to regale us with the sordid account of a Florida man’s brush with genius. He also has occasion to boat about his call to The Dick Show and his most public sharing of a horrific fun fact to date.

As for this month’s mummified script:

Nick takes us through the febrile ramblings of a script meant to be a one year anniversary video for Mom, Can I Have Another Dollar? It, as is so typical of Trouble Planet scripts, leads to an all-consuming conflagration and a casual suicide attempt.