Teamworking Day: Hot Dog University

Seanbaby: Brockway, here’s my idea: we form an academic place of learning, right here on our website.

Brockway: Oh thank god, I actually still need 17 credits and a foreign language proficiency to finish my college degree. I’ve been living a lie all this time, pretending like I had a Bachelor’s in Liberal Arts. Imagine if they checked! I’d be fired from this Olive Garden so fast. Let’s call it something cool like Brockway’s Learntastic Fartabularium of Higher Collegiate EduCAREtion.

Seanbaby: Oh, I’ve already named it. It’s called 1900HOTDOG‘s Chaos University. I even designed our official Chaos University logo, but unfortunately it came out like this:

Brockway: Oh that’s better.

Seanbaby: I agree. Now let’s get you those credits. In my home office, I have a whimsically curated collection of books and videos organized to tell the story of our broken world. For example, the Hollywood star workout tapes bleed into the disgraced celebrity biographies into Hulk Hogan into racism into conversion therapy and so on. I’ve put our corporate branding all over all of it. I have built a beautiful engine of darkness.

Brockway: There’s so much of me in your life.

Seanbaby: Yes, your face and beard watch me from every screen, every vertical and horizontal surface. But I’m thinking this library is too refined. These are the guest shelves, the glamor shelves. We will not be using textbooks from here. We are going to be pulling from the Overflow Closet. This is where media too wrongly sized or unspeakable is crammed into piles to be forgotten about. This place tells no story other than madness.

Brockway: WEED FOR MENOPAUSAL TEENS! I pick WEED FOR MENOPAUSAL TEENS.

Seanbaby: Great choice, but there is no picking. Starting from my collection of Black Belt and Easyriders magazines, I will pull a book based on what I roll on a 20-sided die. To measure your mastery over chaos, you have to tell me what happens inside based on the cover. If you are right, an unlikely and dangerous possibility, you will receive two full college credits. I don’t know why I’m still going over the syllabus. Your first book is WOMAN Alert!!!.

Brockway: Well that looks like an all-purpose guide for avoiding death at home or on the go for Nixon-era ladies.

Seanbaby: It’s an all-purpose guide for avoiding death at home or on the go for Nixon-era la– oh, wow. You’re exactly right!

Brockway: Fuck yes! I hope she learns to strangle intruders with the cord of her vacuum cleaner and calls it Chicken CORDon BLUE. I hope she jams a feather duster down a burglar’s throat and then punches him in the neck so he pukes feathers and calls it CHOKEON Cordon BLEW.

I only know the one fancy dinner.

Seanbaby: I want you to learn Lobster Therma-MORE about the author, F. Patricia Pechanec Stock:

Brockway: That is a defensive haircut.

Seanbaby: F. Patricia never stops defending. This photo itself is a violent and unexpected ambush. People flip over the cover of WOMAN Alert!!! thinking, “Self defense book, huh? I’m sure it wasn’t written by a librarian waiting in line to meet Leonard Nimoy in 1967, OH FUCK I WAS WRONG.” F. Patricia looks like the Martian inventor of the first human disguise. But she fights like a panther. Like a sexily napping panther. I pulled a few of her techniques:

Brockway: Situation: Attacker attempts to mummify you alive.

Principles: Patience, mockery.

Phase 1: Wait it out.

Phase 2: Ask “you havin’ fun there, sport?”

Seanbaby: F. Patricia knows seventy ways to defend a nerd strangulation and they’re all indifference.

Brockway: Situation: It is the 1960s, you are a woman, your husband is having a sports viewing party.

Principles: Flexibility, quietness.

Phase 1: Deliver snacks.

Phase 2: Return to Wife Cabinet and fold yourself for storage.

Seanbaby: This is already our best and most coherent Teamworking Day, and if anyone disagrees, please see Figures 35A and 35B for instructions on how to suck your own dick. That was fantastically educational and you are two college points more academical. And now the dice tell me your next book is… Speed Cleaning by someone called Jeff Campbell and something called The Clean Team.

Brockway: Is this still the 1960s? That’s a pun. This is a book about maximizing amphetamine panic for domestic cleaning purposes.

Seanbaby: You’re close. This is a 1985 book on housecleaning written by housecleaners for housecleaners and illustrated by housecleaners for no one. For instance, instead of instructions they’ll say “use the red juice and resist your instincts.” And instead of a hand cleaning with a toothbrush, they’ll draw a tarantula giving a prison tattoo. It has tips for building bridges across carpeted bathrooms as if you, the owner of bathroom carpet, gives even the tiniest shit about anything.

Brockway: I know this one! I learned it from 1960s Domestic Martial Arts Masters. You make red juice out of attempted burglars. It’s just Borax and blood.

Seanbaby: You’re still thinking about F. Patricia Pachanec Stock, which isn’t close to right, but I’ll give you one college credit for it. Next up is…

Seanbaby: Oh no, you hit a HUMOR landmine, only worse: a ’90s misogyny one.

Brockway: I’m getting a crazy sexual vibe from that Human Furniture cover. This is a shame-play book for aging dominatrixes and the dumpy men they tolerate.

Seanbaby: Oh, wow.

Brockway: Called it. Next she’ll be storing things in his orifices. Like making him hold her purse with his mouth.

Seanbaby: Oh shit.

Brockway: Oh shit.

…

Called it, though.

Seanbaby: I can’t believe you saw that coming. That book must have spent years next to 70 humor books about how men won’t ask for directions while it quietly bursted with boner towel racks and anal corpse play. You obviously get two real college credits for that, and your next book is…

Brockway: I’m once again getting a crazy sexual vibe from Jar Jar’s prehensile mouth penis. This is a book about Jar Jar Binks making sweet love to Obi Wan Kenobi.

Seanbaby: I don’t think you’re taking this very seriously.

Seanbaby: This dumbshit Gun Gan is just spending the whole book putting his mouth on things. “Yay, a crackling stream of photons! Oops, mesa tried to eat it! Mesa look like testicles dat got flipped inside out and can’t figure out how ta die!”

Brockway: Alright, he’s tongue-fucking a podracer. I’ve seen this before. This is Star Wars: Kiss Players. There’s no way this book ends without Jar Jar blasting midi-chlorians into a Jedi’s mouth. “Mesa cumming!” He’ll shriek, before tripping over a bucket and falling into a lake.

Seanbaby: This is going to sound crazy, absolutely fucking insane, but I think you were right?

Seanbaby: Look at this. These two are about to make this swamp so much more wet.

Brockway: Shit, I said Obi Wan. I’ll take partial credit on this one.

Seanbaby: You only missed it by one Jedi! Amazing. Your next book … weighs 34 pounds and was translated from German in 1973. It’s called DOLLS. THE WILD WORLD OVER. an historical account.

Brockway: This is a book about how I die.

Brockway: I’m so fucking good at this game.

Seanbaby: Every page of this is a dozen somethings Hell no longer wanted. I don’t know how it got here. According to the back cover, you can’t legally buy this book without a valid death certificate. Next to “Price” it just has a picture of 3,000 eyeteeth.

Brockway: Does every single one have to hate?

Seanbaby: This page hissed that their ghosts are distributed by mass. One of the dolls is shared by the souls of seven forgotten children while the restless spirit of the last Japanese sea lion is spread across three of them. It’s terrifying, but I’m learning more than I thought I would.

Brockway: We better hurry, I accidentally made eye contact with top row, third from left. She whispered “two score hours when the clock runs widdershins” and I have no fucking idea what that means. I think it’s like fifteen minutes. I want to die a college graduate.

Seanbaby: Okay, let’s get out of here! Dice roll, go! Fuck fuck, you hit ZOUNDS!.

Brockway: GadZOOKS!

Brockway: I don’t know what this book is about but I know if I google the author I’m going to find an international crime spree.

Seanbaby: Interpol will never catch a man who can make any sound with his nose. By the time agents realize they aren’t being attacked by helicopters and those farts aren’t coming from each other, Frederick R. Newman has already escaped. Anyway, let’s open to a random page and see what he’s done:

Brockway: Crime. This is crime. I’ll accept full credit for this one.

What the fuck is any of that? Pick a word. Any one. What does that mean?

Seanbaby: We’ll never know. He wrote more than one book about splooping plonks with your mouth, a learning method where neither you or anyone can know if you’re doing it right, and the library that contained this one categorized it as DISCARD.

Seanbaby: With a single braap and three ploits, your next book is…

Brockway: I know this one! This book hates the moon. All Christians despise and mistrust Earth’s moon. I think they think it’s the space-egg Lucifer hatches from, I’m 90% sure.

Seanbaby: You’re absolutely right. These goddamn Christians disprove the moon.

Brockway: I’m going to assume I’m also right about the devil egg thing!

Seanbaby: There are some scientists who suggest the moon is no egg for the devil, but this book would never trust them, which is as good as proof. Better, in fact. I feel like there is more debunking to do. Have you heard the theory that the moon is made of Earth chunks?

Brockway: I already wrote down “no moon.” I’m getting an A+ in Applied Moon Spite from the only teacher I respect, Professor Jesus Christ.

Seanbaby: Professor Jesus Christ teaches you only enough science to disprove the rest. And to help students also forget that, the final chapter of EARTH SCIENCE for Christian Schools is “Group Fighting With Shovels and Batteries.” I’m skipping ahead, though. Let’s debunk another stupid ass moon idea.

Brockway: In the Show Your Work section I explained that the moon is just a defect in your vision reacting to the microchip the New World Order puts in your eyeball whenever you visit a Lenscrafters. You can actually counter it by blinking very fast – if you do that while looking at the moon, you’ll see it flicker. That’s the chip shorting out! In the Extra Credit section I put: “The characters AR-15, when taken independently, appear in the bible a combined 160,000 times.” I eagerly await my A+.

Seanbaby: You, A+, don’t even have to wait until the end of this sentence. I’ll roll for your next book, aaaand fourteen, fifteen, sixt– oh.

Brockway: I abstain.

Seanbaby: I’m opening Uncle Willy’s Tickles.

Brockway: I don’t want these credits. I audit Uncle Willy’s Tickles.

Brockway: Wait auditing means I still go to the class! Fuck! Fuck!

Seanbaby: Tell me what happens next. Uncle Willy is coming. Predict Uncle Willy’s next move!

Brockway: You’re trying to trick me. All universities do this, there’s one trap class built to ensnare weaker students. It’s usually Film Theory, but I think this time it’s Uncle Willy’s Tickles. I’m back in. This is just a book about proper tickle protocol.

Seanbaby: Let’s see if you’re right. The last page is…

Seanbaby: Oh my god, what!? I… I guess everything was okay!!!

Brockway: I’m not going to wear anything under my robe when I graduate.

Seanbaby: Whereas I have taken a vow to never be naked again. Let’s hope the next book isn’t as haunted by tickles. Oh… this is a cursed roll. You are not going to like this. Acting Out the Gospels with MIMES… PUPPETS… & CLOWNS by William DeAngelis.

Brockway: It doesn’t say anything at all about Christ on this cover. These are not the Christian Gospels. Clowns have their own gospels – the Gospel of Bozo, Rednose, and Gacy. When recited by a non-Clown the heathen’s mouth will taste of seltzer and child blood.

Seanbaby: I think you’re right again. These aren’t zany pastors doing a slapstick take on Bible stories. On the back cover these horrible mimes have picked one of their own to crucify:

Brockway: Oh, I’m learning! I knew clowns and mimes had their own horrible god – who else would allow them to be? I did not realize there was a Clown Messiah who died to forgive the many unspeakable sins of Clownkind. He must’ve died really, really hard.

Seanbaby: Their Easter lasts 364 days and they celebrate with one long howl to honor their Clown Messiah who hatched from his grave slowly, over the course of many lifetimes.

Seanbaby: No, but seriously, here are the steps to putting on a fun church clown show for kids. Step one: have many grim figures enter silently and songlessly, their bell alone telling the tale of their sickness. Step two: The largest and most sorcerous mime trades them leprosy treatment for prizes. There are no more steps. Spread our joy, child of Clown Christ.

Brockway: I actually need to know how to mime leprosy for a lot of reasons.

Seanbaby: I know we made this website to celebrate the broken mistakes of cursed maniacs, but I think this is getting too weird. Hopefully this last book is a norma– Yes! Humanoid Puppets!

Seanbaby: This is it. Your final challenge. Look upon this and tell me the plot to Humanoid Puppets.

Brockway: Vampiric Sea Monkeys attack. WAIT, Vampiric Sea Monkeys start an Oi! band.

Seanbaby: That is a strong guess. Let’s open to a random chapter and oh no.

Brockway: Man! I knew it was going to be weirdly racist in a way time forgot. My gut said “write down ‘weirdly racist in a way time forgot,’ you know it’s one of these!” But I thought that about every book so far, especially Zounds. Especially Zounds.

Seanbaby: This was written in 1952 by an “ace” afraid of puppets and Asia, so most of these first chapters are about weird racism. Okay, here we go. CHAPTER SEVEN: “Feast of Thaa-an, Ruler of Wrath.”

Seanbaby: So this novel is about a puppet man who coughs every time he cloaks himself in the flesh of man, but get this: he fucking hates coughing. It’s kind of serious, actually. And his main enemies are two sad humans who spend the entire next chapter wishing they would die in a bat fight.

Brockway: That was actually my second guess.

Seanbaby: I worry you think I’m kidding. We’re reading CHAPTER EIGHT: “The Bats of Eternal Night“!

Seanbaby: Gina and Martin are our heroes, and they instantly know these bats are way too large and spiteful to be anything other than Humanoid Puppets.

Brockway: I’ve known a lot of bats and you would be surprised how spiteful they can be.

Seanbaby: Well, this was written back when bats were either polite or puppets.

Brockway: This must be an outdated textbook. I’ve jumped into every single batfight I’ve ever seen.

Seanbaby: Seriously. When faced with the simple problem of a swarm of humanoid puppet bats, the author can’t even imagine a person fighting it. I know you still need to prove a foreign language competency, and here you go. I think author Ray Barry taught you how to speak fluent Coward Bitch.

Seanbaby: Authors write what they know, and for at least the fourth time in a single batfight, these assholes have completely given up.

Brockway: I worry this is coming off as victim blaming. But you have to on some level want to lose a batfight. A bat simply cannot enter a human hole without cooperation, the body has ways to try to shut that whole thing down.

Brockway: Oh yeah, if you don’t like the taste of bat you are in the wrong business. You are gonna taste some bat.

Seanbaby: “What’s another way I can have these characters give up over the course of this twenty page batfight?” thought author Ray Barry. “Oh, they could explain it! Or better yet: gasp it!” Ray, if I wanted to watch little babies get chewed to death by bats I would perform skit number 3, 7, 9, 11, or 12 in Acting Out the Gospels with Mimes Puppets and Clowns.

Brockway: Yeah, see. I’m going to contest this material. The Bat Martial Sciences have come a long way since these days. We understand now that bat attacks have almost nothing to do with your ancestral worthiness, and it’s mostly about how many bat eggs you stole.

Seanbaby: I’m sure there are more recent puppet studies, but this is the latest edition of Humanoid Puppets I have, and at Chaos University we teach from the text. And the text says the middle stages of a batfight are spent wondering what you did to God to deserve all these fucking bats.

Seanbaby: Once you’ve given up several times and complained about God’s Plan, your batfight may have gone on too long. Consider stabbing your friends to help speed things up. Remember the six B’s of Batfighting: Better to Bleed from Boyfriend Betrayal than Bat Bastards.

Brockway: All of this information is from the bad old days when Batfighting was considered a barbaric sport. Like, a lot of these old bat manuals don’t even know that bats lay eggs, much less how delicious they are. And it’s no longer protocol to kill your batfighting partner if they show weakness. We understand now that leaving them alive to flail can be a valuable distraction.

Brockway: What! That’s the Alpha Bat, you almost won! Haha I know these were simpler times and we shouldn’t litigate the past by our modern standards but it’s so hard not to think of this as silly when we now know you just devour the Alpha Bat to take control of the swarm.

Seanbaby: There’s always that one student who, after the batfight teacher tells them to curl up and pray for the bats to finish them, raises their hand to say, “Um, couldn’t you simply eat the Alpha Bat and take control of the swarm?” Yes! Of course! But it ignores decades of Humanoid Puppets tradition.

Brockway: Bats don’t hear on our wavelength, they won’t recognize a cry for mercy. You have to tap. All bats respect the tap, they’re an honorable species.

I’m so glad we could end strong on a subject I have some expertise in. I already bought a plane ticket so my dad can come see me graduate. That’s right, he’s talking to me again!

Seanbaby: You think you passed!? We are reading from a puppet book about shameful cowards trying to kill themselves any possible way to hide from bats and you are having a gentleman’s duel against their king! You brought radness to a pussy fight! I have no choice but to award you one thousand Fs, one for every Humanoid Puppet whose culture you ridiculed. Mr. Brockway, sir, you are no longer a student here at 1900HOTDOG’s illustrious Farts College.

Brockway: … I’m going to steal so many farts on my way out.

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