Junk in the Trunk

Ha ha ha ha! It's alive! Oh, my God! What's happening?! What is it look at the size of it! Why didn't we bring a gun?! This is the true story Of seven strangers Picked to live in house And have their lives taped To find out what happens when people stop being polite and start getting real. The Real World: Metropolis. Ugh! People in this hellhole just don't respect personal property. Listen, I know someone's been in my underwear drawer. OK, which one of you perverts was it? Because it's sick. You chicks are seriously paranoid. I fold them in a very particular way, Falcon in little squares. It was probably you. Aah! It not Hulk! Hulk swear! Of course it was the Hulk. Aah! It was me. Hello, Kitty! Raow! Listen, uh, I don't mean to be nitpicky or anything but, um, the living room hasn't been vacuumed in weeks and Hey, Waterman, I was busy you know realigning the planet or something. But you drew vacuuming out of the job jar and everyone else Face it. Who's gonna save Earth from a giant meteor while Superman's vacuuming? You? I don't think so. I could. Hey! Nobody seems to understand how useful I am, you know? I'm I'm really capable. I can do lots of stuff, you know? Lots! I can do stuff like, um Like like, I can You know, I, uh They still haven't forgiven me for that stupid party. Come on, baby! Who wants to pet this [Bleep]? I mean, what is this place, some kind of nun factory? I just Ha ha. Got to go! Got to go! Aah! Hey, uh, occupied. Occupied! Hey! Hey. What's up? Justice never sleeps. Oh, man, I wanna be red. I hate black. Oh, it's like that? So I'm the token black superhero, huh? Well, they might've wanted Tim Meadows but they got the Falcon and you damn well better respect the Falcon. Of course, I don't really have any superpowers. Man, my costume sucks. Come and get it, little guys. Hello? I know you can hear me. I'm Aquaman. Trouble at home? Answer me, you little bitches! If you leave your towels on the bathroom floor we start getting that mildew smell. It's gross! Have a little common courtesy for the rest of us. The bat signal. Huh. I wonder where he's always going in such a hurry. My good plates! Dishes done. Despite my best efforts fitting in here continues to be quite a chore. It confounds me. On my plates. My good china plates. Relax, Wondergirl. What did you just call me? L I am the night! Wondergirl? Huh. Wondergirl. Let me tell you something about Batman, OK? He's the same as the rest of these guys around here. They're afraid of women. They're afraid of the almighty uterus. Almighty uterus! Next time on Real World I don't see why you're so upset. What do you need men for anyway, huh? How about a smile? There you go. I'll do it. I'll do it, man. I'll totally do it. You won't do it. Yahtzee! That's it! For America! Where's the bunny? Wiggle your big toe. Great. I am Jesus, you know. Hyah! Oy! Five-fingered palm of death. Let me try that again. Thanks. It's what I do. You didn't think it would be that easy, did you? For a second there yeah, I kind of did. Your change, sir. Khan! Khan! The next hot game show has just been imported from Japan. You want million dollar?! You win crazy smile face million dollar! First, you eat. Food is power. The power! Who poop last? You win one million Mr. Mighty Joe dollar when you poop last! Who poop last? Mao! Mao! Who Poop Last?! I'm Bill Clinton. I'm gonna push over that cow. Ooh, there I go! I did it! Whoo whoo! Welcome to another thrilling edition of Zombie Idol. Last week, America voted in record-shattering numbers. In fact, phone lines were jammed so badly that major metropolitan areas temporarily lost 911 service. Hundreds died. It all started with the auditions as the reanimated corpses of rock 'n' roll all competed for a spot on our show. Past performances from zombies such as John Lennon and the Beach Boys tore up our stage. Competition has been hot and heavy. It's time to meet our judges. Give it up for Frankenberry. Yeah. Yeah, dawg. Yeah. Let's hear it for Boo Berry. I hope our contestants just have fun and, you know, be themselves and pretty, pretty space people and a puppy. And last and certainly not least please welcome Count Chocula. Well, I certainly hope tonight's performances are better than last week's ghastly affair. Nice outfit. Isn't it gauche to wear brown after Labor Day? I don't know, Ryan. Isn't it gauche to be a complete douchebag on national TV each week? Not when you're paid like me. It's time for our first performance of the evening. Here's Bob Marley. Yeah, dawg. You did your thing. Marmalade. Dreadful. Don't forget to text message your votes at the end of the show because phone companies make far more money that way. It's time to check in now with our very own roving reporter Kristin Holt. What kind of hijinks are going on backstage, Kristin? Ryan, the zombies are going wild after one of the children from the Grant-A-Wish Foundation fell and cracked his head open. Brains. It's like some kind of feeding frenzy. L. A. Woman There's only one way to stop a zombie. Blow their [Bleep] heads off, baby. Don't forget to tell them about all the great deals at Radio Shed, Ving. Don't forget to vote, everybody. Good night from Zombie Idol. Seacrest out. Brains.