Oy. You people obviously have no idea how long it took me to come up with all twelve items for last week's list. And you thought the recaps took me too long before. ["How do you think I feel? I got less votes than Alan frickin' Keyes." -- Kenny The Corpse] On the other hand, it appears that there's also apparently a disturbingly large percentage of you with the name "Nathaniel" tattooed on your asses, so who knows what's up with these polls. At any rate, the people have spoken, and unlike the State of Florida, the United States Supreme Court, and the Federal Election Commission, I'll be bowing to the will of the masses. And with any luck, I'll be doing it before the next episode airs. Maybe.

So on a note that's not quite as random as it seems, am I the only one who can't hear the phrase "Dead Guy Du Jour" without immediately flashing on the diner scene from Dumb & Dumber? Mmmm, that sounds good. Anyway, speaking of Dumb & Dumber, here comes the DGDJ himself, along with his assistant. They're janitors working the night shift in some industrial-sized bakery in the LA basin, and the DGDJ (a.k.a. Dumb) is teaching his apprentice (a.k.a. Dumber) how to clean the giant dough-stirring vats. Dumb explains that it's important to keep them clean to prevent bug infestation, and after some insipid folderol from Dumber about the possibility of just spraying them down with Raid, Dumb climbs inside the vat to start scrubbing. Dumber leans over the top to hand in a bucket and sponges, and then inquires if anyone has ever had sex in one of the vats. Cut back to Dumb, who's wedged between a couple of wicked looking metal blades and wondering why on Earth anyone would do something like that. Which makes perfect sense, because everyone knows the only appropriate place to have sex in this world is the janitor's closet at LAX. Wow. Could you imagine the lines there would be if that were actually true? It'd make Disneyland look like a day at the DMV. Anyway, Dumber suddenly notices a roach crawling on his hand, and falls from the ladder in his efforts to shake it off. Predictably, he accidentally engages the dough-stirring mechanism, and we hear Dumb's suddenly strangled screams from inside the vat. With the Ironic Musical Detachment Fairy receiving an unexpected week off (and wasn't it nice of him to spend it helping me out with the homepage teaser?), the only question left is whether Alan Ball will elect to show us the presumably bloody contents of the aforementioned vat. Thankfully, he does not, and we simply fade to the non-musical, yet still ironically white, Title Card of Death, which informs us that Dumb's given name was Thomas Romano. And thus is born another Dead Guy Du Jour. Thanks, Flo.