501: Cryobaric Hypersnooze, If You Don’t Mind

People say you can fly too close to the sun? Well we say you can’t fly close enough. We say you can fly right up to it, so that your nude chest grazes along its surface as you circumnavigate its plasmic equator at one billion miles per hour, like you are Space Harrier himself, skirting along the edge of the troposphere, shooting energy bullets from your face, and

what

oh

okay.

In this one, Joe does a squish, and Log wants to give you a job at his pub. See you at one thousand!

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