Episode Report Card
Demian: B | 2 USERS: A-
The Hardy Boys Do The Ultra-Violent

So. ANY-way. Tonight's first bit of Monster Chow stows his gym bag in his car's trunk while something lurks behind him in the bushes. Once-Again-Doomed Kavan Smith's hackles rise but, seeing nothing when he spins to peer into the darkness at his back, he makes the unfortunate mistake of diverting his attention back to futzing around with his bag until the black-cowboy-booted fiend from the bushes tiptoes up behind him and...slings Kavan Smith into the trunk of the car! DUN! The mysterious, black-booted fiend slams the trunk shut immediately and stoops to retrieve Poor Kavan's keys from the iridescent patch of asphalt upon which they've most conveniently fallen while Poor Kavan screams and hammers his fists against the lid and screams and hammers his fists against the lid and screams and hammers his fists against the lid some more.

The next day, a lonely drop of blood spatters against the linoleum in a hospital hallway as a man's bare legs stagger into view above it. Several more drops join that initially lonely one as the bare-legged gentleman lurches towards the nurse's station in the far, blurry background of the shot, and it's Poor Kavan, of course, sporting his navy trench from the previous evening and nothing else, apparently, as he presses both of his bloodstained fists and a knot of the trench's fabric against a wound in his side. A far-too-bubbly nurse approaches the ashen-faced and obviously agonized bit of Monster Chow and perks, "Let me see what happened!" When Kavan responds with little more than a sweat-streaked grunt of pain, the bubbly birdbrain continues, "Don't you worry -- there's nothin' I haven't seen!" With a smile on her face, she reaches to open his coat despite Kavan's frantic pleas against such action, and when she manages to pull his hands away? "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Raoul writhes about upon his overstuffed armchair with delight as the sound of Kavan's entrails sloppily spilling from his torso hits the soundtrack. And when those entrails SPLAT! against the floor at his feet, the camera jumps around to take in the formerly bubbly nurse's reaction through his legs with one ropy stretch of his guts partially obscuring her face as she unhinges her lower jaw to let loose howl after howl of abject horror and...

RAAAWWWR! "Eeeeeeeeeeeee!" shrieks Raoul as is his wont, despite the fact that he's once again grown weary with this season's far inferior title card. "I do hope that charming little Kripke person comes up with something a tad more exciting for next year's enthralling installments!" I assume you have a suggestion at paw, my scaly friend? "Oh, I do, indeed!" This oughta be good. "It is! You see, I've always found that an exploding cadaver sets precisely the right mood for an evening of televisual entertainment, and one would simply be perfect in this opening sequence!" Oh, boy. "Can't you just see it!? Gradually swelling with the bloat and the decay until it bursts open to expel a lovely fountain of rotting innards directly at the screen?! With this delightful little Thursday-evening divertissement's title simply dripping through it all at the very last instant before a dapper and debonair gentlebeast arrives to gobble the entire tasty treat up? Eeeeeeeeeeeee!" I'll pen a note to The Kripkeeper about it now. "Please do!" Yeesh.

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