...down in the sewer with that gormless and horny twat of a simp Alastair, who's yelling for help and receiving no response. Eventually, he turns to examine his surroundings while wondering, "Where the hell am I?" "Down the rabbit hole!" the suddenly appearing Haas perks as he and Little Miss Notoriety amble on up from the shadows. "Alastair In Wonderland?" Haas muses, shooting Little Miss Notoriety a grin. "Close enough." The three vanish into an abrupt and oddly placed commercial break.

All The News That's Fit To Fuck Me, and this scene is so ridiculously awful and appalling, I just don't know where to begin. Jason Lewis is apparently some sort of artiste who rents out the garret -- the garret -- on the top floor of the building -- the building that only has two floors, the second of which is already occupied by the newspaper -- as studio space, in which he creates "sculptures" that...pain! PAIN! PAIN AND EVIL AND BAD AND THE COOTER TAT. The piece he and The Cooter Tat currently examine consists of a metal circle suspended from a rod that's balanced atop a triangle, and the whole thing's supposed to have been inspired when Jason Lewis "was flying over Africa, looking out the window and painfully aware of the struggles below [him] and yet [he] was up in the clouds feeling peace," and WHAT THE FUCK? WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK? "It's supposed to remind us," he claims, "of the delicate balance between life, good/evil, agony/ecstasy. All that." Jesus H. Motherfucking Christ on a stick. "All my work is," he continues as the shot cuts to take in the entire studio, and I fail to see how that nine-foot-tall, plastic, fire-engine-red hooker pump in the corner is supposed to remind anyone of anything aside from how absolutely fucking stupid and trashy and insulting this program is. I guess I'm not nearly as sensitive and delicate as Vex, here.