Linc: "This stupid necklace I got. It's not even for me. I wish I had a birthmark instead. I used to hate it when he would call me on the phone, because he was a self-absorbed Baby Boomer. And now I feel bad, or something."
Lena shaves the back of her hairy neck to reveal a ridiculous birthmark or scarification she somehow has never noticed ever, despite wearing a ponytail all the time. And nobody else has ever seen it either or remarked upon it. Not even Cappy, if you know what I mean.
Clark: "Tess, maybe I should watch this last part first and clear it for you..."
Tess: "You know his ass isn't going to die until at least three more ghosts and something surprising happens. Chill."
I'd be more upset and the nonstop Shumash weirdo babble about starvation and his diseases and night vision and day vision and sleeping and awakeness and then he sees a tree full of mangos after starving for about a week, just ambling at leisurely pace, and so his weak ass climbs up there. And immediately, hilariously falls out.
Cole: "Well, I broke my stupid ankle so I haven't even gotten to the waterfall yet where you'll later find my camera. Which means you guys don't really need to worry that this is the part where I'm going to die. But I sure am going to whinge and grunt and roll around in the leaves forever and ever before that happens."
THEN HE EATS THE DOG NAMED SALSA, IRONICALLY WITHOUT CONDIMENT OF ANY KIND
Not even a nice chutney, has Dr. Emmet Cole, for eating his dog. Simply wizard fire from a hand and some salty ants and grubs for flavor.
But you know all those people of that certain kind of person that their whole personality is about how great they are for being simply unable to watch pretend violence against a fictional dog but somehow have no problem with the skinned person or the fact that people are constantly catching on fire or getting their brains beaten out on this show. Simply too sensitive and compassionate to interrupt my demon-zombie violence for the threat of some other person's imaginary dog pretending to get eaten.
I hear they hand out a medal for that in Stockholm each year, for the person that is most horrified by imaginary violence against animals. You stand next to the person that is most scared of cockroaches (or, in alternate years, flying insects)! And the person who most hates the word moist! And the person who loves bacon more than everybody else! And you all get an award for Best Propaganda Instead Of Just Being Alive Like A Person! Then the Prime Minister shakes your hand for having invented such a unique and intriguing personality for yourself, there's a big fight of Ninjas vs. Pirates vs. Zombies, and then everybody watches The Wire and talks about Shark Week until you fall asleep.