Indoors, The Pert Brunette Who Will With All Certainty Slaughter The Lecherous Professor Before We Reach The Title Card lifts up a book entitled Modern Morality: Examining Societal Views & Belief Systems by one "Arthur Cox," who, as we discover when she flips the volume around to display the author photo on the back of the dust jacket, is none other than the lecherous professor himself. I'll simply note that "Artie Cox" sounds like a nom de porn to me and leave it at that, for Raoul's growing restless already, and must have his gore. "Such a handsome photo!" The Pertly Homicidal Brunette enthuses as The Lecherous Professor unwinds his scarf over by his desk, and I should probably note that her dress is actually a very pale pink, but to hell with it. It's close enough to white for me. In any event, after a bit of academic chit-chat, The Pertly Homicidal Brunette admits she's not really one of The Lecherous Professor's students. "Then why are you here?" he wonders. By way of response, she flashes a terrifying array of choppers in his direction and coyly drops her head, swaying this way and that a little bit in her skimpy shift. Here, The Lecherous Professor all but morphs into an actual Looney Tunes character, complete with the steam shooting out of his ears as his eyes pop out of their sockets on a pair of springs to bounce up and down in front of his face while his tongue unfurls to roll across the floor like a red carpet he's tossed out just for her. There might be a HUBBA HUBBA involved as well, blinking on and off around his head. I can't be sure, though, because I've fast-forwarded to the bit where The Lecherous Professor makes his move. And that move is as spectacularly unsubtle as the rest of this scene. "I understand how you're feeling," he croons, circling around his desk to get all up in her scantily clad bazooms, "and it's only natural." "And," he continues with tremendous amounts of false humility in his tone as he addresses those bazooms directly, "I am somewhat of a celebrity around here." He draws her closer to him -- it must be noted that she's more than quite willingly going along with it all -- and murmurs something about not wanting to take advantage of her youthful innocence. He twirls one of her ringlets around in his fingers before gently touching her chin and tilting her mouth up to his. They mack. And mack. And mack. And mack and mack and mack and... "You know," Raoul shrieks, breaking the mood, "for an episode that's only thirty-eight minutes long without the commercials, they're wasting hideous amounts of time on a seduction scene whose bloody conclusion became obvious the instant we laid eyes upon this scantily clad demonic bint, don't you think?!" Ah, but there's a silver lining to that particular bit of gloom, my scaly friend! Less for me to recap!