In Which Our Hero Finds Out What Zombies Like to Eat

Just when it seemed like it was hopeless, Ness and Paula’s new friend literally drops in on them. Jeffrey Andonuts, at your service! 

First, Jeff recounts his quick and daring escape from his boarding school way out in Winters to all the way across the world in Eagleland, with a little scientific ingenuity, a lot of derring-do, and some help from good friends, both human and otherwise.

Then, it’s time too clear out these pesky zombies from Threed once and for all! Will they be up to challenge, now that they have Jeff’s brilliant scientific mind to aid them? Will they discover the true source of the undead infestation? And, just what do zombies like to eat anyway, brains, or something else?

Find out on this week’s episode of… The Podcast Against Giygas!

ROCKIN!!!

Transcript

0:00

You're listening to The Podcast Against Giygas! Episode five, in which our hero finds out what like to eat. Winters, a cold country at the very top of the of North Armourica. Here was a quaint little school deep in the woods and snow called the Queen Ethelberga's National Liberal Mathematics, and Sciences Boarding College of or Snow Wood Boarding House, appropriately short. The sun, having put up a valiant effort that day to through the clouds and gentle snow of the chilly little town, had long receded. Twenty-two o'clock, and it was lights out for the who previously enjoyed a right brilliant romp of a which brought them hot tea and cream and rashers and with raspberry jam for breakfast, and then either a afternoon in the library to catch up on lessons, or an immediate return to hostilities following the weekend before's knockdown drag out snowball war between the and the Greens, that is, the humanities majors the science majors, respectively, all of which were by plenty of hot cocoa on tap. In other words, the boys of Snow Wood Boarding House were getting ready to sleep off a perfect Saturday. Five hours later, one such boy was fast asleep in his dormitory bed, dreaming the things most Winters like whether alternate events could have allow science to eventually solve the three-body had centuries ago Titus Flavianus lived long enough to enjoy a proper reign over his most hated younger You know, stuff like that. All when a voice interrupted him. Please find us in Threed. Find us. Jeff woke and sat up in his bed, turning on a lamp which predictably roused his roommate, Tony. Jeff? What is it? I've just had the most peculiar dream. I'm to join a boy and a girl I don't know, on the side of the world, for a grand romp against beastly and right bloody bad guys. I'm to help save the whole entire planet from the brink of annihilation. Jeff took a moment to scratch his chin, something he did when a conundrum acquired his full mental Right, I'm busting out of here. He swung his comforter off and sprang out of the At the words busting out, all sleepiness his roommate and friend, who leapt out of his own bed with similar gusto. Wicked! I'll get up the rest of the boyos and nick a key from the Opening his closet, Jeff chose from an array of twenty five identical green snow woods blazers, matching slacks, a pressed white Oxford shirt, an expertly tied black silk butterfly bow tie, and brown leather loafers. A world-saving romp, after all, is no reason not to good. Tony dressed himself in similar attire, while of remembering to don his favorite wide-brimmed cowboy ever the Eaglelandophile. The prefect of his dormitory wing was staying awake by spinning his keyring in circles with his index whistling to himself and reading a book, when a from down the hall startled him right out of his chair. When insolent giggles followed the pop, as inevitably follows a thunderclap, the prefect knew that the ordinance in question was a firecracker, minor being the latest fad among the Green Blazers these Oi, back in your rooms, you lot! The prefect ran off so irate at the spot of bother that he discarded his copy of Aeschylus and the key ring which Tony, lurking nearby, was happy to confiscate. Moments later, Jeff and Tony successfully snuck to the front doors of the boarding house, the earlier boyos in question having given the hound dogs plenty of T-bone stakes and long ago acquired the maps, roots, changing of the guard times of the other night All that remained was for Jeff to turn the hard earned key. Blast! It's slightly bent. The defective key was a blow to be sure, but it wasn't the end of the war. The two boys backtracked to their bedroom, and rucksack was already laden with essentials, only identical pairs of green suits, a necessary paring down for travel purposes, he stuffed the bag with item, an invention of sorts, with plenty of wires, blinking lights, and other parts that whirred, and beeped. Jeff lugged the thing back to the front doors, with by his side to again facilitate a stealthy and escape. He put the thing on the door, and for the inordinate it made inside the locking mechanism, it ended with a simple click and the door lazily swinging ajar. Jeff beamed to Tony, whose jaw was wide open in Saving this for a rainy day I have. I call it the that opens most doors, especially when you have a bent key. Brilliant! You really can't invent anything, can't you? Well, I like to think so. Still grinning over his success, Jeff made his way to the brick wall surrounding the school, and after gave him a boost up, he jumped just high enough to the flat top of the wall, hoist his skinny legs over, and leap down to safety on the other side. Afterwards, Tony threw Jeff's rucksack over the wall carefully returned him his invention through the iron bars of the front gate. Say, Jeff, this mission of yours, is it going to be Tony, so elated to help his dear friend only moments was thoroughly deflated once the moment of his long finally arrived. Well, I imagine so. What is any dust-up for the fate of civilization itself, if not high stakes? Who knew how long he was to be gone? Who knew if he'd even return? And who knew what Tony, who was devoted to his dear as no other was, would do if it ever came to that? A twinge of compassion for his roommate twisted heart to make him turn his gaze from the mission just for the moment. But shin up there, old boy. I'll be sure to write you. You will? Of course. Every weekend I'll have a missive sent expressly to That way you'll know I'm tickety-boo. Brilliant. Well, take care of yourself, then. You as well. I won't soon forget the boost you gave me over the wall. With that, Jeff slipped on his rucksack and ran off the starry winter's night. Now, to get across the famous Loch Tess, the expansive lake blocking the way to his destination. True, a coastal trek was an option, but it was a and laborious option at that, and with the urgency his mission to join his world-saving companions, it was unadvised. Besides, the blazer was warm, but a trip that long the water's edge was pushing it. Instead, he reached the coast of this formidable lake and looked for a boat on which he could charter He found none to his dismay, but found a gaggle of men in pitched camps, all of whom were known Tessie to a man. Tessie, of course, was the mythical dinosaur said to the deep frigid waters of the lake the Borts named very day. It would be a real boon to any of those gathered there, who wore green in homage to their chosen major from nearby alma mater, if they could finally snap a shot of incontrovertible proof of the friendly beast's Jeff, while sympathetic to their cause, had an task at hand, and therefore could not afford small with the group which would inevitably snowball into talk indeed. Instead, he found, if not a seaworthy vessel, then the second best thing, an old salty mariner type, loafing on the shore and smoking out of a pipe. Begging your pardon, kind said. Suppose I'd like to fall this lake, but lack the proper vessel to do so.

Speaker 2: 10:01

If it's a proper vessel ye seek, then there's none save you Tessie Queen of the Sea. When the wind's blowin' just right, play the tune on a tin the one she wants to hear. That's how you be getting up on great Tessie's back. The tune that goes like To Ra la la Tur Lee tulla tulai I Is there any chance I could trouble you to play the tune in question? The man obliged him, producing a tin whistle and a quaint shanty of a tune as salty as himself, and his years past adventures on the open sea. Very good. Might you be persuaded to banter that very tin I'll give you two bottle rockets for it. Moments later, Jeff stood at the shore's edge, licked the tip of his index finger, and held it aloft. Judging that quality of wind to be just right, he the very same tin whistle, and with the aid of his memory played the old tura la la, etc, as well as ever did. The wind and waves alike picked up, and an amazing appeared before his eyes. The watery, majestic, hulking, purple body and of Tessie herself. She actually bobbed her head to Jeff as if to say, hop on. And Jeff, figuring you couldn't trust anyone if you trust an old timer minding his own business anymore, no reason not to follow the old man's or Tessie's For as gigantic as the aquatic dinosaur was, the ride was gentle enough. A part of Jeff wanted to alert the hapless Tessie for finally, the object of their desire and drive had appeared before him, ready to be admired and But a few considerations made him decide that it seemed if Tessie herself wanted to be spotted, she would have allowed it by now. Not to mention that to so soon and so unsportingly give away the watchers' destination on their grand journey would destroy their whole reason to etre. Not to really mention he plum forgot to bring a dinosaur stirrups anyhow. It appeared that Jeff was to go where Tessie willed go. Thankfully, after an easy trip across the gentle that belied the choppy waves along the shore, where willed ended up on the other side of the lake. Jeff could have sworn he heard the beast whinny as let him climb down from her back. Then she dipped her head and seemed to smile at the boy, who in turn made a small, awkward bow that suggested like saying Milady whilst wearing a brimmed hat to tip. The great Tessie of the lake swam away, and Jeff went his separate way as well. He walked on until he encountered a familiar sight, the great stone thing, a circular formation of huge slabs of rock standing upright, upon which rested more of stone lying flat and creating among them a perfect circle. Winters owed the existence of this monument to the peoples who lived on the island of North Armourica in ancient times, the hulking hairy Cro-Mags. Despite their apparent savagery, it was said that Cro-Mags had contact with a mysterious alien race introduced them to civilization and civility alike. And the monument drew some kind of power from the for exactly such an extraterrestrial contact. Jeff gave the thing a salute and went on his way to the Andonuts lab, the only house among the quaint winter's homes made entirely out of aluminum. If it already wasn't very difficult to spot the a sign above the front door in bright yellow light bore the name Andonuts Laboratory. Jeff helped himself inside, pounded his feet on the mat, and dusted extra snow off his blazer. Further inside the laboratory, he encountered a sight, an old man, almost the very image of Jeff, if hair and beard weren't silver with age, donning a lab coat and thick black glasses bearing nearsighted as powerful as Jeff's, pouring over a gigantic a wide study area, where the only thing more chaotic Byzantine than the machine system of circuit boards, wires, and lights, were the mess of notes and formulas on a blackboard behind him and scattered on the floor. It was none other than Dr. Andonuts, esteemed physicist, Professor Emeritus at University, an upstanding member of the Order of Armourican Empire for advances in the service of his to the concept of space and time itself. Or Father for short. Still hard at work on his machine, Dr. Andonuts did not look up to greet his son. Jeffrey. Father. The boy sat himself at a nearby table, upon which rested a platter of small donuts and a pot of hot tea, which the good doctor helped himself to and nibble on his work. I couldn't help but notice you're absent from school leave. Have a donut? It couldn't be helped, father. I'm off to Eagleand to help save the world with some of mine. Cheers. Jeff indeed helped himself to a cup of tea and two of the small donuts. They appeared to have some sort of sweet red bean inside them. Not bad. Friends of yours. I'm sure I've never met them. Well that's the curious thing. Neither have I. I suppose there's no stopping you then. If you can get the Sky Runner up and running again, all yours. Still deep in applying torque to a stubborn gear, Andonuts, without looking up, thumbed it to another behind him. This one huge, a near perfect sphere to but we've encountered the Sky Runner before, haven't we? Jeff wasted no time, pulling his trusty multi-tool of his rucksack and getting to work making the Skyrunner ship shape. After he packed some necessary sundries for the long he switched on a button on the great ship and its and systems came to life with a whirr. Its cockpit door opened automatically, as if inviting an old friend inside with a wave. Good luck saving the world! And land sake's alive, boy, be careful! A donut for the road? Jeff waved goodbye to his father, took a complimentary donut, and boarded the Skyrunner. And calculating the time of your SOS at twenty o'clock, or eight in the PM, as you Eaglelanders would have it, and knowing when it's eight PM in Winters, it's three AM in Eagle Land, and knowing I had five hours to you, I set a course for Threed at eight PM NAT and set the thrusters to speeds that would exploit time zones in a westerly journey, ensuring it was each time zone at 7 PM and exiting it at 8 PM all the way up to my destination, where as you saw, I mere seconds after you called. A rousing success, despite two unforeseen snags, one of course being the damage the Sky Runner sustained from that landing. Still, though, that's incredible. What was the other snag? I'm jet lagged like you wouldn't believe. Jeff fell head over heels onto his back onto the dirty threed dungeon floor, and just like that he was and snoring. Eight hours later, Jeff snapped awake and dusted the floor dust off his blazer. A good thing he did wake at that time too, since, though you couldn't tell from looking out the window in that gloomy town, it was technically morning at Threed, which meant whatever monster was keeping them under lock key was probably very soon fixing to demand its Right. Now that I've had a bit of a sleep, let's get you lo and busted out of this mess. Ah, I have just a thing. He approached the locked door and produced from his the very same little invention that successfully the front doors of the Snow Wood Boarding House. I call it my machine that opens most doors, when you have a slightly bent key. It's performed very well in recent field tests. He placed the doorknob into the machine's slot and the thing on. It buzzed and whirred and beeped, and yet the door shut. Hmm. Most but not all. How dreadfully Aristotelian. Right, stand back. Jeff again went to his rucksack, and this time took out a small set of something he called bottle rockets. Though they were unlike anything Ness had ever seen dad procure after a long drive across the state border for the Fourth of July. He threw a single rocket up in the air, and then, a small remote control out of his blazer pocket, the thing in midair. Using the remote control, Jeff amused himself by the small rocket in fun little loop de loops before it directly to the locked door. The rocket met its target and exploded with a bang. The dust cleared. The door and a good bit of the wall were blown to and the way was open. If Jeff's invention made for a poor debut for Ness and Paula, this display of pyrotechnics was enough to them both. They made their way out the dungeon, up a long dark set of stairs, and found themselves outside the of a spooky cemetery. The children took cover behind the gloomy building as they could see in the graveyard scores of zombies climbing out of their caskets to make more mischief, else ambling back in to tucker down after our good day of terrorizing the live folk. And now to free the good people of Threed from this zombie infestation.

My plan is this: 20:40

we play the part of Hannibal, draw enemy forces out to Cannae with an especially morsel that they cannot refuse, and then crush our with a herd of elephants. Ness and Paula gave Jeff blank stares. Um, what I mean is we draw them out en masse and spring a trap for the lot of them. First we give them the one thing they crave most of Meanwhile, an especially unruly mob of zombies of their graves and banded together for some especially mischievous shenanigans. They made their way to the town circus, hoping their had sprung even more alive human victims to prank, and eventually feed their overlord. When all of a sudden, one of them stopped and the air. Maybe all their other senses were dead on arrival, not the sense of smell. Soon others could smell it too. The unmistakable, sweet aroma of... what would that be? Brains? Jeff gave Ness a look of abject horror, as if he had asked something that, as the popular winter's song would have made Caligula blush. Brains? God, man! Were you raised in a cave full of video games? Well I don't know, I was just thinking that- how would you suggest we even... I mean even procure that... as all things do, even Jeff's revulsion over the of collecting a mass of human brains passed. And so did Ness's embarrassment over even suggesting a thing. Jeff took in a deep breath and continued No, Ness. The one thing zombies crave above all else is Marmite? Jeff took out a small plastic jar of the stuff and it to the others. It was mostly brown with a yellow and red label. Mamite. A salty yeast spread made from a byproduct of beer Some people like it, some don't, but only two kinds people love it zombies and people from Winters. They really like it that much, huh? Oh, we do indeed. We put it on everything. Toast, muffins, scones, currant buns, cucumber for tea and... no no no, Jeff, the zombies! Oh. right. Well, yes! In fact, we in Winters think that's why you are so preoccupied with zombie apocalypses. Your zombie population will be far less ornery only stack your shelves with some marmite. Paula, keeping a wary eye on the zombies going in and out of the graveyard, finally joined in on the Let's stay focused. What do we do? Right, we're going to need fans, big ones, and plenty of marmite. Hundreds of jars, but I can see to that. Just a quick trip back to the Sky Runner, and... wait a minute. You packed hundreds of jars of salty yeast spread with you? Well, of course I did. Who knows how long this world-saving romp will last? You don't think I'd jump willy-nilly into that without a steady supply, do you? Meanwhile, it was true. The haunted night air of Threed was swimming with the pleasing scent of marmite, hundreds of jars up for Funny enough, the scent came from the exact circus to which the zombies were already shambling and on their way. They picked up their undead pace to a kind of horse licking their sputum stained lips. They arrived at the tent and could not believe their luck. It was indeed a stockpile of marmite, jars and jars the precious stuff arranged in a grand pyramid. The jars themselves opened and a bunch of fans wafting the sweet smell into their rotten nostrils. Arms outstretched, they shambled to the treasure trove of their favorite salty yeast spread. Okay, fans, yeasty stuff, then what? Well then we do what anyone does when they have to with vermin. We put down some paper. One of the zombies took a step, and found to their their foot did not come back up from the floor. Taking another step, that foot stuck in place to just as good. Soon enough the tent was filled with the moans and of scores of the undead, stuck to huge slabs of paper with some kind of glue, their feet fastened to the toppling down and sticking to the rest of their rotten bodies, their stuck arms and legs flailing around like a fly in a puddle or a mouse in a trap. Some of them, the more desperate among the unfortunate trapped undead, even still tried to grasp in vain the large pyramid of open marmite. Zombie paper? Yes, zombie paper, sticky paper that catches zombies. Do I have to spell everything out for you lot, or have you any imagination at all? The children set their trap, and the zombies indeed for it, hook, line, and paper. They waited a long while to make sure all of them had wandered into the deadly tent, the same sight where a night before the zombies themselves ensnared children. Once confident there wasn't a single undead soul the town of three, did the children dare to venture Surveying the smashing results of Jeff's expert hearing scores of zombies moaning in even more agony their mere cursed existence already gave them cause to moan, as the children's alive feet tread upon the paper without getting stuck.

Speaker 3: 26:19

No, we're going to die... again! You're the enemies of zombie kind! You... monsters. Oh, don't be so melodramatic, you lot. You'll only be stuck for a couple days. Plenty of time to think about what you've done. And it serves you right. The threat finally seen to, the children regrouped the cursed and now quite noisy circus tent. Now the good people of Threed are safe, and if the improve their manners, we can leave the Marmite as of good faith. As much as I'd hate to part with it. But we're not done yet. They are never just zombies, you see. It will do us no good to defeat only Varro and leave the legions of Paulus. We have to find the source of the outbreak and destroy it. As if on cue, a horrible moaning emerged from a manhole. Whatever the thing was, it finished its utterance with a disgusting belch. Hmm, my guess we'll find it down there. The three of them eventually lifted the solid iron off from the road and descended. Reaching the bottom, Ness and Paula held in deep and hugged the walls where the walkways were safely from the filth flowing like a shallow river beside Jeff, however, suddenly stopped with a puzzled sniffed the air, and then, to Ness and Paula's object horror, actually kneeled down in front of the sewer dipped a finger, and tasted its contents on the tip his tongue. UGH! Jeff, Gross! Don't be alarmed. I assure you it's not as ghastly as all that. See for yourselves. Their curiosity piqued. Ness and Paula took a closer look. It actually did look sort of different, darker, more than solid, and with a frothy white head on the Once they dared to take a normal breath, as Jeff was doing, they did have to admit it smelled nothing the worst case scenario either. To Ness, it almost smelled like... beer? Well, stout, technically, but yes, and you know means. Somewhere down here is a veritable marmite factory. Well, I'm sure I've never heard of a brewery throwing out the brew for the barley, but there you are. Yes, my friends, I'm afraid the zombie infestation is much, much deeper than we thought. And deeper the children went through the sewer, a dark aqueduct of beer. Ness thinking all the while that, while thankful it smell as bad as it really should have, he'd rather be anywhere else. Of all the things that could have possibly happened in a dark sewer full of zombies, they reached a fork in road. Jeff stopped, paced around the dry spot of walkway, tapping and scratching his chin, the way he when an especially vexing problem came along. Oh dear, it'll be a gamble no matter which way we... another horrible loud scream, punctuated by another belch barreled through the left hand walkway, it would have all but made Ness turn tail and run suddenly cheered up Jeff. Ah, this way! The children ventured on. Whereas before the only sounds they could hear were the gurgling rush of discarded beer and the drips of from the walls and their own nervous breaths. The deeper in they went, they began to hear the typical sounds of industry, engines whirring, assembly lines and overseers cracking their whips. They reached what looked like the beating heart of a factory, where amid the complicated machinery, they indeed see hundreds of small jars of marmite pulley on conveyor belts. But that was not the notable thing they saw in this factory. No, that would have been what was undeniably the source of all the shouts and burps they had heard the past There it was, a repulsive pile of garbage, puke, and detritus, a stinking estuary of decay and vomit doubt was the source of the zombie infestation in The thing actually had bulging bloodshot eyes and a mouth with sharp jaws, but thankfully those eyes and jaws were trained behind itself, gorging on a vat of refined marmite. From their hiding place, Jeff whispered to the others a plan. Right then, the thing is helplessly distracted on own supply of contraband. I say we make like Vespasian and bring up the North legions long before Vitellius ever becomes the wiser. Okay, that sounds good. What does that mean? Simple, old boy. We perform a little subterfuge and then strike while we have the element of surprise. Okay, sounds good, but how do we perform the And what does subterfuge mean? Leave that all to me. Just follow my lead. Jeff tiptoed out from behind the wall, cleared his and spoke in his best attempt at a zombie's raspy, voice. Oh master We've returned. You brought food? You brought human children? Thankfully, his best attempt appeared to be good Jeff sighed in relief, then tiptoed closer to the quietly taking out a laser pistol of his own design his right hand, and the rocket remote control in his He motioned to the others to join him, and they approached beside him and took out their own weapons. Yes, master, we brought the children.

Speaker 5: 33:15

Boy and girl thought could beat Giygas.

Speaker 3: 33:20

Boy and girl now become vomit in my guts! Um Yes, Master, that's uh generally how the digestive process works. Ness cringed and whispered to Jeff.

Speaker 4: 33:39

What are you doing? That's not what zombies say. Oh, well why don't you try it then, since you're the bloody zombie expert?

Speaker 5: 33:48

Stupid little children thought they could beat Giygas. Walk right into trap! That's right, Master.

Speaker 3: 33:59

There's nothing they love more than a circus full of marmi- that is, a circus.

Speaker 5: 34:08

Stupid little... wait. why you talk funny? Talk funny, do I? I'm from Winters, you big fat oaf! Jeff! If there was one thing Jeffrey Andonuts could not for, it was any and all slights real and perceived his home, country, and culture. It was enough to make him stamp his foot and entirely abandon the element of surprise. The thing turned around in a rage and trained its bloodshot eyes on the three living kids. It gnashed its puke stained teeth and licked its uh, as it slithered toward the children. Ness and Paula, dragged hopelessly in the middle of now aborted plan to get the drop on the monster, had no choice but to defend themselves. As the vomit amoeba propelled itself closer and closer, snapping its jaws and swinging slimy limbs like a putrid octopus, Paula telepathically swung her while strategically setting other parts of the slime on fire. Jeff also laid down supporting fire with his laser and launched rockets with aplomb. Unlike the other kids, however, Ness was not yet a He had barely gotten into a handful of scuffles at or the occasional fracas with Porky years ago. He tiptoed toward the thing, then jumped back at the sign of danger, his bat shaking in his hands. The monster sensed his unease, and thinking him easily picking, snatched Ness by the ankle with a slimy It raised the terrified boy into the air and over its jaws, snapping open and shut, open and Ness flailed around and screamed as much as his lungs could bear, swinging at nothing with his bat dangled upside down by the ankle. Thinking fast, Jeff put away his gadgets and took else out of his pocket. You there, vomit beast. He unscrewed the small jar of marmite in his hand and threw it at the slimy thing. It emptied and spilled all over the monster's face. Some people like it, some hate it. Let's see which one you are. The monster laughed, belched the most repulsive and threw Ness off to the side. The other kids stood at the ready as the thing closer. The apple say three boys, one girl beat him. Makes me laugh. Ha! Giygas not afraid of you. As if just noticing it, the monster slurped a morsel of marmite from the jar Jeff threw and continued his If someone beat Giygas, they have to be... Again, regarding an especially tantalizing dollop of still dripping off him, this time the monster took a chomp of itself. They have to be worse than the greatest evil of all. You... The monster took another bite of its vomit-self, then another. It slurped and sucked and munched and gnashed, but matter what, it could not get enough of the sweet spilled all over its body. Jeff stood at ease and watched his foe with a smile. It was a fait accompli. Enough time then passed where Ness was able to dust off from the fall and regroup, and for even Jeff's smug satisfaction to turn into abject horror at the of the monster devouring itself. Um, allow me to put it out of its misery. Jeff took out a whole handful of rockets and them with the remote control into the gruesome pile of vomit. The rockets met their targets and exploded. A few seconds later the smoke cleared. There was puke everywhere, and there was also a big hole in the wall where the monster used to be. It was over. The danger finally averted, Ness took the opportunity to be appropriately shell-shocked by his first real against evil. Paula noticed Ness breathing heavily and looking at the very spot where only moments ago he was by a throw up tentacle over the quite literal jaws certain death. She went to his side and put a comforting arm round shoulder. I... I almost died. I was so close. It's okay, Ness. We beat it. Yeah, no thanks to me. Right, rather thanks to my Marmite. A marvel of Winters ingenuity and engineering, eh? Jeff playfully elbowed Ness in the other shoulder a laugh, but it didn't seem to cheer him up much. Chin up, old boy. You know what they say. A fight you walk away from is a win in itself. A Pyrrhic victory is a victory all the same. Ness took in a deep breath and nodded to the others. Okay. I'll be alright. Thanks, guys. I say, have a look at this. The kids then drew their attention first to the big in the wall that Jeff blew up with his rockets, then weird and wonderful technicolor world they saw on the other side, and finally the strange short, stout creatures that were marching in a line toward that hole in the wall and into that weird and wonderful world. The creatures who resembled pink little balls of fur, perhaps the size of a basketball, with a stout little whiskered nose, cute little face, with an even cuter red bow tie on their single blonde locks of hair, two little feet to waddle wherever they might go, sang a fun little oompa-oompa march in a bizarre they entered the world beyond the sewer. The children looked on for a long while, and the more they looked, the less it made sense, until one of the roly-poly creatures noticed them, and with a nod of its head seemed to beckon them to follow, shrugging to other, happy to leave the dreary sewer factory as as they were curious to see the wonderful world they joined the creatures through the hole in the and into the dreamland lying in welcome before You've been listening to The Podcast Against The Podcast Against Giygas is an audiobook written and performed by me, Garrett McMahon, based on the Super Nintendo game directed by Shigesato Itoi, production by William Pawlowski, and thumbnail and art direction by David Peters. This podcast stinks. It is also a fan-made project affiliated in no with the Nintendo Corporation or Mr. Itoi. This podcast is free to listen to, ad free, and will be. I hope you enjoyed this week's episode, and I'll see back next Monday. Till next time.