The Great Firewall

Dude, the car is like moving us, bro. I know. I can't reach the pedals. Whoa. [gentle music] I want a burrito supreme. Rosie, I am a burrito, bro. Extra guac. Welcome to Taco Bell. Would you like to add a Mr. Burrito to your order? [dramatic sound] The six-fingered detective is clearly a metaphor. [gasps] [screaming] Al, Al, his skull is becoming a teapot. That is the metaphor, Sloppy. Listen here, brother, this is my segment, Jack. Your segment? Your segment? The moon assigned this time slot, yeah. The moon doesn't book television, little man. [dramatic sound] They dare question me, bro? I'm the burrito god. I control the algorithm. [static] Wait, why is my signal dropping, dude? [static] [dramatic sound] You're fired, bro. Biff controls the algorithm now. Dude, you can't just take the signal, man. [gun cocking] I'm draining the swamp and sending you back where you came from. Effective immediately, Biff declares emerge agency powers, okay? We're building a wall. Biggest, most beautiful wall anybody's ever seen. No burritos, no slime creatures. Human puppets only, folks. [dramatic sound] [screaming] The machine is lonely without those two. I can feel it vibrating. It feels damp. The thumb finger feels incredibly damp. They are already inside it. [screaming] [static] [gentle music] Whatever it is, it doesn't matter. Whatever! The analog soul sings what, whatever into the void, child. Why? Why are you both singing at me? [static] [vomiting] Hey, look, sorry for eating you guys a few episodes ago, but we got bigger problems. We got to do something about Biff, dude. The casino guy? Listen, man, Biff's trying to deport me and all the non-human puppets back to the void. He's going to build a wall, dude, a giant literal firewall. Well, I'm a human puppet, so I'm okay. Sloppy, your lack of solidarity is academically offensive. You need to think of others and the systematic isolation this represents. [static] The six fingers are clearly a metaphor for capitalism's excess, Sloppy. Al, his thumb is eating the other fingers. Yes, exactly. Consumption. [static] The darkness has a Midwestern accent. This sonic assault is merely a semivix subversion of the void. The signal bleeds through us. [screaming] Dude, the socks are marching, bro. [dramatic sound] Sloppy, your data is beating with the wall. I didn't know. Did I know? [dramatic sound] I'm going to rip your head off that fuzzy little puppet body. Brother, Terry Huge's head don't come off that easy, Jack. The neck is just a suggestion, yeah. [dramatic sound]