Recidivism.

Tom gives out the exclusive phone number, but he doesn't want anyone to use it before he announces the first official topic of discussion. He can no longer trust the garden variety caller to craft their own material and use the beginning of the show as their empty canvas. Tom knows it may sound harsh and cruel to some, but history dictates that he must drive the bus from now on. He wishes he could hit the button and have the calls flow like good, funny gravy, but that hasn't happened in recent months. Tom sees one line flashing, and he asks Mike (still out on the high seas, now an honorary member of Team Zissou, performing Portuguese Grateful Dead covers with Pelé dos Santos under the night sky) Jason if it's worth putting on the air. Jason says it's a first-time caller. Tom tries to fight the temptation, but he decides to give the newbie 30 seconds to bring the goods.

- Paul from Nashville, TN, calls to ask Tom to settle a debate he's been having with his girlfriend. Tom wants to hear more about the key issues before agreeing to serve as their radio arbiter. Paul says they are both law students with one year remaining prior to taking the bar exam in late July 2008. Time expires, but Paul earns another 30 seconds. He explains that most law students go on a "bar trip" to some exotic locale after taking the examination. He and his girlfriend are having a big dispute about their desired destination. Paul really wants to go to South America (less "ethno-centric and Western"), but his girlfriend prefers a jaunt to Spain, Greece, and Portugal. They thought Tom's wisdom could help them work through this crucial life decision. Tom says that Paul and his girlfriend have what he likes to call "rich people's problems." He doesn't care about their fancy travel itinerary and issues an emphatic GOMP to the rich jerks/future lawyers. Tom acknowledges that there are good lawyers out there. He's not judging Paul and his paramour for their chosen profession, but he is judging them for asking him to analyze the pros and cons of vacations to South America and Europe and issuing his ruling. Tom points out that this is why he now puts people on the clock in the pre-topic portion of the show. You get 30 seconds, then it's click, kaboom, bong.

Speaking of GOMPs, Tom heard that there's a radio guy named Bob Grant who has been stealing his phone call termination technique. He thinks it's sickening and plans to file a lawsuit to straighten things out. Tom is confident that Grant will be punished in a court of law, perhaps with a verdict rendered by a creep like Paul from Nashville. I think Tom should just head over to the Reo Diner in Woodbridge, kidnap Grant, and barge him. Tom wonders if Paul and his girlfriend pontificate in legalese when debating their rich people's problems. He imagines them pacing around around their apartment, making dramatic, arm-flailing gestures, addressing an invisible jury, and proposing motions about European vacations. Tom does an impression of Paul introducing a South America brochure he procured from a travel agent into evidence.

After consuming these rich kids, Tom has another pleasant chat with his beautiful, blue-felted ABBA box, back announces the music, and refers to the fun Good Will Hunting as "The Prince of Tides for dudes."

- Tom doesn't think anyone will believe what happened to him. Yes, that's right, his Henry Rollins "Search and Destroy" keychain broke. He was walking around with it and noticed that the actual S&D logo fell off. Tom thought a mighty Henry Rollins keychain would be strong, but it had the durability of a weak Painted Willie keychain. A replacement is on the way, so Tom hopes it will stand up to the ruthless abuse that he put the first one through over the 12 days that he owned it.

- Tom puts a topic on the table: The Wit of the Staircase. According to comedian Paul F. Tompkins, the French refer to this topic as l'esprit de l'escalier. Tom wants people to think of the times they absorbed an insult and then thought of the perfect comeback 20 minutes later. He's giving people the chance to recreate the moment and finally win. Not really. They still flopped. Tom thinks this thing is gonna play out just like The Best of Times, a film in which Robin Williams and Kirk Russell revise their gridiron history.

- Morgan claims to be calling from Linkin Park, New Jersey, but Tom has never heard of it. Morgan says it's located between Paterson and Wayne. He also mentions that while the town has been around since the 1640s, it was officially incorporated in 1922. Tom duly notes these facts. Morgan says the town is not named after the rock band, and all of its residents hate them because they spell it like President Abraham Lincoln, the borough's supposed namesake. Tom thinks a more appropriate name for the town would be Historyville. The town council also filed an official grievance with Warner Brothers because they thought Rick Rubin's production on Minutes to Midnight was a bit too "hands-off".

Morgan is a college student who is hoping for a career in historical preservation. In his classes, he has to go before a jury at the end of a long project. The students parade their work to their peers and endure their horrible criticisms. Morgan did models, drawings, and sketches for a small neighborhood park that recaptured some classic features of the parks built in the 1930s under the WPA. Tom doesn't know what that is, but he does know that Morgan really likes his history. He wonders if Morgan enjoys history because it's old and non-threatening. Morgan says that history is constantly changing, while the future stays the same. Tom thinks this is something that a history fanatic would say just before unleashing a demented laugh. He can't wait to hear about the quip that Morgan missed considering the one he just dropped off the dome.

Morgan says one classmate created a model for Hoboken when they were building parks on the piers, but one of her parks collapsed into the sea. She told Morgan that his design looked like he was planning a future slum, so he wishes that he summoned the quick wit to say, "At least none of mine had fallen into the sea." Tom says he would have won the moment by eliciting a chorus of "oooooooh"s from the rest of the class. Morgan doesn't think you can beat an "ooooooh" moment. Tom says that at that point you either have to fight the person because they may attack or just raise your eyebrows, show your palms to everyone, and own it. Morgan says a previous jury nearly came to blows, and Tom suspects they were arguing over which historical display was more boring. Morgan says it was a children's playground designed by three women. A male judge criticized the amount of open space they included in the design. He thought it was terribly unsafe and would not allow his hypothetical children to play there. The three women said they all had all given birth to actual children, and a fight ensued. Tom is surprised by the passion involved in reinterpreting history. Morgan mentions the ongoing renovations to Thomas Alba Edison's historic house and factories in West Orange. When they were digging around his basement, they found his stash of beer cans and Lucky Strike cigs. (And a few stray stroke books per my sources.) Tom thinks that's exciting. Edison was hiding them from his wife, who wouldn't let him smoke or drink in the house. Tom thinks these history guys are something else. He thinks it sounds like a real party. Edison's house will be renamed Thomas Edison's Secret Stash and open as a comic book store early next year.

- Matthew calls from Greenpoint to talk about his brief encounter with the world of organized crime. A couple of years ago he was walking past a supposed Mafia hangout after work. He thinks he made eye contact with a guy in his 50s who looked the part -- wifebeater, hairy, track pants. Half a block later, he drove up in his town car and asked Matthew if he wanted to join him for a cold sodey. Matthew freaked out and said he had to go home because his girlfriend was cooking him dinner. He wishes he got in the car to see what would have happened. Tom pictures the moment in Goodfellas when Jimmy Conway sent Henry Hill's wife to get some free dresses. He's offended by Matthew's racism and bids him goodnight. Matthew obviously has an ax to grind with Italian-Americans, and The Best Show won't stand for it.

- Matt from Rockaway, NJ, says he's calling about the topic, but he quickly reveals his cards. Matt says that "we" (presumably the people chirping in the background) were at ShopRite in Dover, and they walked across the street to the dollar store to purchase some Glow Sticks. The store only had one overweight white lady working the register. Tom pulls the plug on the call because his Tommy Sense was tingling. He decides to reveal Matt's three tells on the air:

1. Instead of saying how he was doing, he went right into his rap. This suggests that he was calling to make mischief instead of engaging in actual conversation.

2. People stirring and rumbling in the background; huge giveaway.

3. The classic bush-league move: radio turned up.

There are a few more that Tom keeps to himself. Matt had a made mutant hand. Tom wisely folded.

- Tom was recently having coffee at a New Jersey-based coffee chain called Starbucks. They were playing the worst music he's ever heard from a John Lennon "tribute" album. Tom thinks they should have billed the record as a tribute to Paul McCartney featuring John Lennon songs done badly. Tom wishes McCartney was on hand to fix the tracks, including a particularly bad version of "#9 Dream". Some guy seated across from Tom was actually tapping his foot and rocking out to the dreamy melodies Starbucks was laying down. Tom wonders if Starbucks spins the worst in-store music of all the chains. While Panera opts for innocuous background jazz, Starbucks pollutes the retail space with a Sly & the Family Stone "tribute" featuring the likes of Joss Stone, I-ron's Reggae Challenge, and will.i.am having a go at the greasy funk Sly used to thrown down.

- Stu calls from Easton, PA, where he's sitting inhis radio. Tom thought he was either really tiny like Timmy von Trimble or sitting in front of an old-timey radio with his family. Stu is actually listening to the show by himself in his car. He thinks a lot of people will relate to his missed opportunity. Stu was backstage working on the filming of a television show, and one of the supporting actors came over to the catering area. In the course of the casual conversation, Stu wished he asked this person on a date. It was a very pretty lady. He felt a spark, and she had eyes to die for. Her name was Rachel. Rachel Dratch. Stu was particularly interested in taking her out to dinner, and he subsequently discovered that Dratch's bio mentions that she likes to go out to dinner. Tom finds it a bit hard to believe that Dratch enjoys doing that. Stu confirms that she likes going to restaurants to eat food. He was a millisecond away from asking her to dinner, but he hesitated and blew it. In this moment of indecision, Dratch's knife fell as she was trying to apply butter to something, and the moment was lost forever. One of the technicians came over to retrieve her to do a scene. She was gone, and Stu never had another chance to woo her. Tom's not sure what to say about this sad story, but he think it's typical of the way things are handled in Easton, PA.

- David in Philadelphia 19125 (close enough) calls to recreate a gig gone awry. He was enlisted as the lead vocalist for a show that took place in December 2005 at the Grape Street Pub in Manayunk, per my local insiders. David says he was pretty drunk when it was time to perform. The guitarist took the performance a lot more seriously, and the band broke down on stage. The music stopped, and the angry axeman called David out for his intoxication. David says he was wearing Native American garb. He's half-Vietnamese, so his skin tone made his get-up look a bit more authentic. He wishes he shot down his guitarist's rebuke by saying, "You'd be drunk, too, if your land was stolen from you." Tom thinks that would have been a good one. He also wants to know how being half-Vietnamese gives him the right to pretend to be an American Indian rock frontman and make drunken slurs about an entire group of people. David justifies it by saying that he's also a minority. Tom GOMPs the sicko. He suspects David is really only 1/16th Vietnamese, exaggerating the percentage of his heritage based on his frequent consumption of Vietnamese cuisine.

- Paul from Nashville takes a break from looking up legal precedents to bolster his case for a four-night stay in Brazil and returns with a cautionary tale about the perils of irony. He played an open mic night as part of a musical duo he formed with his buddy, Tom. Paul held down the bomp-bomp-bomp on bass, while Tom strummed an acoustic guitar. Flight of the Conchords sans jokes. While the open mic was held in a bar, they realized it was a Christian event when there was an altar call after their performance. They used a four-letter word (not f), and they felt bad that they subjected a wholesome crowd to their brand of semi-filth. Their toilet rock was preceded by a comedian called The Counterpuncher. He wore boxing gloves and sported a makeup black eye. At the end of his set, he did a nice bit about sticking up for the oppressed. Another hero to the disenfranchised! After Paul played, The Counterpuncher compared his music to the Gin Blossoms in what was a very sincere compliment.

At the time, Paul and his bandmate were not GB fans, so they were rude and laughed in The Counterpuncher's face. Paul wishes he just looked The Counterpuncher in his blackened eye and thanked him for his kindness. He regrets acting like they were ironic hipsters who were too cool for church. Paul says they wanted to sound like Husker Düde with a little more kick. Tom's sure they must have had that whole HD vibe so down that the crowd mistook their acoustic guitar and bass ditties for tracks from Metal Circus. I hope at least one of them grew a handlebar mustache. Tom thinks they should explore the possibilities of guitar amplification and the services of a drummer if they want to get closer to that sound. Paul says fair enough to the musical advice and expresses regret for being such a weisenheimer to The Counterpuncher. Tom tells him that irony don't get you through the night. It's easy, cheap, and wrong. He gives Paul credit for being smart enough to realize this in retrospect. Tom tells him not to do it again and reprimands him for hurting The Counterpuncher's feelings. Tom proposes an interesting alternative theory: what if The Counterpuncher thought they sounded like the Gin Blossoms because their songs were equally terrible. Tom reminds Paul that he was a comic capable of delivering just such a zing. He concludes that Paul got punched by The Counterpuncher. Even if it was a zing, Tom thinks Paul should have thanked the pugilistic prankster and praised him for a high-energy set that indicated he was having a lot of fun up there. The ultimate cop-out. Paul finally realizes the difference between telling the truth and being gracious. He scored no points on that night. Tom thinks The Counterpuncher probably prayed for Paul after the show. Tom spoke to his pastor about tonight's show. Rev. Miller helped him come up with this topic.

- Chris calls from from the future:11:00 a.m. on Wednesday in Newcastle, Australia. He's got two hours of bonus broadband to listen to the program. Chris has lived in Manhattan and Ramsey, N.J., but his primary U.S. home was Pittsburgh. He tried to call last week to see what Tom thought of the city during his trip to the Andy Warhole museum. Tom thinks the people there like their football. Go Steeluhs! Chris says that they like their rugby in Newcastle, so he can't escape fanaticism over sports with head-butting. He's a fan of rugby, which he prefers to Australian rules football because there's no pads, no commercials, and lots of blood and gore. Chris points out that Newcastle is a steel town that lost its mill in 1999, much like the shift in the economy of Pittsburgh. Tom thinks that Chris may be a bad luck charm, bringing down the steel industry wherever he roams. Chris has his sights set on Dusseldorf. Tom wants to hear his moment before his broadband conks out.

He was at the Metropolitan Museum of Art with his family on a Friday night, enjoying some cocktails on the roof. He was playing with his son, holding him over his head while tickling him. A young female security guard started chewing him out for this aerial show. Chris does an impression of the South American woman telling him to stop lifting his child into the air because it was dangerous. Everyone turned their heads to check out the commotion. Chris slowly turned towards the woman and said, "Thank you, Dr. Spock." Everyone cracked up, and the security guard slunked away. His son is alive and well at age 12. Chris hasn't killed him yet. He's glad he said it because he felt she stepped over the line of her security duties by counseling a parent. The world traveler captured the wit of the moment and stuck it to the lowly museum employee. Mike Healy told me that Tom is a renowned baby expert, so I'm surprised he didn't weigh in on this one.

- Larry the Perv crawls out from behind a rock and calls to see how things are going, there. Since Memorial Day Labor Day is coming up, he was thinking about those Jerry Lews TV-thons. He wants to know if Tom will host a Larry-thon to raise money for his business. He makes feachas. Tom dumps him. Oh, Larry. Tom can't continue to talk to Larry under the laws of the new regime.

- Martin from Edison calls to discuss an incident that occurred while skateboarding eight years ago in Boston. He says Bostonians hate skateboarding. Tom points out that it's not a crime, and Martin says he still has a bumper sticker featuring this reminder. Tom changes his mind, noting that property destruction, such as crashing a skateboard into his car, is in fact a criminal act. He points out that skateboarding was formed on criminal trespassing through private pools, which were then drained and scraped up with rotten skateboards. If Tom ever caught legendary Z-Boy Tony Alba (no relation) in his backyard, he'd hit him with a rake and inquire about payment on the bill to refinish the interior of his $20,000 pool that was ruined when he went out of town for two days.

Tom guesses that the Boston debacle occurred when Martin was 8, but he was actually 19. Tom wonders why he didn't have a driver's license at that time. Martin says he was in Boston on vacation. Tom thinks people should approach skateboarding like soccer -- you abandon it for good at a certain age. Martin says that super-old dudes still play soccer, but Tom hasn't signed off on their continued participation in the sport. While Martin was skateboarding by himself somewhere in downtown Boston, five drunk dudes wanted to start a fight and got in his face. He had no comeback for this angry mob because he knew they would have pounded him. He still has no comeback for them. Martin admits to not being a tough guy like Charles Bronson, so Tom says the correct move is to keep quiet. Martin considers taking up martial arts, but Tom says that would be of no help in this kind of situation. If you're riding a skatebord in a strange town and five drunk guys start saying stuff, you skateboard away and hope you don't get hit in the back of the head with a beer bottle. Martin still skates, but he does it in parks so he avoids destroying buildings and curbs. Tom often tries to walk past the post office amidst kids doing jumps off the steps. Jump and fall. Jump and fall. Martin says he's too old for those tricks. Tom thinks these kids need to return to skateboarding school to improve their 1/9 landing ratio.

- ArchStanton from the AST board calls from Canada. Tom wants to know what part of Canada, but Arch lapses into a Henry Owingsesque steamroll. (It's Winnipeg.) He had surgery to remove a recurrence of his cancer, and now he's currently undergoing chemotherapy. Whenever he's in the waiting room, he has to bite down hard on his tongue to avoid saying something about the hippie volunteer who is playing a lute in an attempt to soothe the elderly cancer patients. Arch says the last thing he needs is a set of this guy's baroque funeral music while he's pondering his impending mortality. Tom thinks the lute must be a bonus treat from Canada's free health care system. Arch says he's received excellent care during his two bouts with cancer, and it hasn't cost him anything. However, there's the issue of putting up with the hippie who plays a lute. He guesses it's a good trade-off all things considered. Tom says that when faced with a decision between free medicine and a hippie lutist, he might take out his checkbook. Arch is starting to think this approach ("Pay and No Pay"?) is an attractive option. He wonders where one draws the line considering that he's subjected to a live music performance while waiting to receive chemotherapy. Arch assumes the Canadian Cancer Society is booking the musician (also a touring member of Devendra Banhart's backing band) to help patients cope with their illness. Arch thinks the people who are nearly twice his age enjoy the music because it eases them towards the light at the end of the tunnel. He prefers not to see or think about the light. He doesn't think anyone wants to hear a hippie play a lute whether they have cancer or not.

He doesn't own an iPod, so Tom offers to send him one so he can drown out the lute with his own tunes. Arch doesn't want the device, but Tom insists. Arch despises cell phones, and he feels that the iPod is too similar. He says he's not one of those crotchety curmudgeons, but he just hates cell phone culture and the dangerously close iPod culture. Tom is thankful that Arch declined his iPod offer. He dodged a bullet trying to look like a bigshot on the radio. Tom renews his generous offer by promising to buy Arch the best iPod he can find. He hopes Arch declines again. Arch says he would prefer a t-shirt. Tom thinks every dirtbag will now call to take him up on the iPod offer, but it's only valid for Arch. Arch says people will have to first get cancer if they want a freebie. He's kicking cancer's ass, proving that Good Guys win. Tom tells him to stay strong and hopes he's eating well. He doesn't want him making daily visits to Tim Hortons to load up on fat bombs. Arch says a donut is the worst thing on Earth you could possibly put in your body since it has zero nutritional value and cancer feeds on sugar. Tom wants Arch to increase the seaweed in his diet, but Arch isn't sure if can get it in the middle of the prairie. Tom will send him a seaweed-wrapped sushiPod.

- A dirtbag calls to try to get Tom to give him the iPod. Tom says it was only for Arch. The caller says his eye fell off, so he really needs an iPod.

- Colin from Westfield prefaces his tale by admitting that he brought it on himself by being a bit of a jerk. He was on the subway after a long day and just wanted to ride home to New Jersey peace. A guy standing in front of him in a business suit declined a request for money from a panhandler. Colin knew he was next, and he didn't have any money to offer. The guy approached him, and Colin told him he didn't have anything before he asked. He got very irate that Colin assumed he was going to ask for money. He told Colin he had a gun, giving him the means to rob him. He said something about only wanting 12 cents. While Colin was sitting on the subway, he wondered if he should have just apologized for his presumptuousness or demanded to see the weapon, essentially daring the man to shoot him. Tom says he definitely figured out the two extremes of possible responses. Colin says he would have felt like a cowboy in his mind. Tom tells him that cowboys don't exist, and Dirty Harry is a fictional character.

Tom would have apologized to the gentlemen, punched him in the nose, grabbed his gun, and pistol whipped him with it. He thinks Colin must feel like the Prince of the Planet out in Westfield with its nice little movie theater and proximity to two Barnes & Noble stores. Tom is disappointed that they couldn't hold onto the bagel place on the main drag bagel place on the main drag. He laments the lack of support for the fake local business with screen-printed chalkboards displaying cartoon drawings of chocolate chip bagels. Tom doesn't think these mass-produced pieces are fooling anyone into thinking that an employee of that store had the artistic talent to pull of these elaborate depictions of personified food in their spare time.

- Comedy buff Wack Zakk Zach from Philly calls to relive a meeting with his wife 14 years ago to finalize the paperwork of their pending divorce. They met outside an Italian restaurant in Hawaii, where Zach lived for seven years. He thought Hawaii was awesome, especially since 1988-1995 was a particularly good time for the local music scene. Zach applauds Tom for referencing Poi Dog Pondering. The meeting was civil until the end when his wife told him that she had hoped to have his children. Zach was at a loss for words, and he hasn't come up with anything in 14 years. He considered saying something about her mother's macaroni and cheese recipe. Tom tells Zach that he should have made some cartoon noises, waved his hands in the air, and walked backwards to his car. Zach had never considered interpretative dance as a viable response. Tom suggests something from The Nutcracker to make her think he was losing his mind. Zach says there is a single word for the topic's central concept, but he can't remember it. He thinks it's something like "octothorp," which he claims is another name for the # sign. Tom thinks it's just called the "number sign." Tom now realizes that his wife divorced him because he's weird and makes words up. He GOMPs him.

- Roger calls from Washington Heights, and Tom wants to know Roger's favorite Roger. Roger goes with Roger Healey from I Dream of Jeannie, but Tom wants Roger to name a real Roger. He suggests Roger Grimsby, but Roger prefers Roger Maris. He doesn't like Roger Moore. Tom tells Roger that his name is fading, giving way to the Britneys and Blaines of the world. Roger feels that his name will soon end up in the ash heap of history along with Rosemary and Maury.

Roger was walking out of a store on Broadway 15 years ago and smashed into a big blond guy who was out for a run. The guy's friend wanted to continue jogging, but the guy wanted to start a fight with Roger for his aimless wandering. Roger stammered some meager response, and then the guy's friend grabbed him prior to any fisticuffs. Roger always wanted to say, "Dude, it's called a sidewalk, not a siderun." Tom says it's not great, but good for the moment. He thinks Roger should have punched the guy in the nose and shown him his own blood to stop his bullying. Tom would have hired a bodyguard like Ricky Linderman and returned to the scene in the hopes of another altercation. Roger says he was a younger guy then, but Tom says a guy younger than both of them figured out the benefits of personal security. Tom says Roger could use some of the wisdom of a Chris Makepeace. Roger says we all could. Tom couldn't. He GOMPs Roger for telling him what's what.

- John Junk calls to try to pick of the pieces of a blistering art school zing. After receiving his graduate degree, he started working at his school as the manager of the art studios. The 19-year-old undergrads consistently annoy him, and about 10 months ago he got madder than an Australian Copperhead at a Tracey Emin exhibit when a female student was causing him excessive grief. She fired back by saying, "Don't get mad at me, I know this isn't what you wanted to do after grad school." Junk glazed over when faced with this full-on zing, and he's yet to come up with a clever retort. Tom would have dedicated himself to wreaking havoc on the student's existence, slashing all of her paintings with a razor blade and demolishing her sculptures. Junk loves the idea. He thought of saying stuff like "I've got dental insurance!", but Tom doesn't think citing a basic health benefit would be nearly as effective as destroying creative works. Tom thinks she showed him up with a triumphant W, sending Junk spiraling to a blowout L. Junk says he tried to read her to see if she was aware of the brutality of her quip. He still encounters the student, but he's not entirely sure of her awareness of the incident. Tom thinks the perfect amount of time has passed for Junk to plot his revenge -- JUNK style! The students won't suspect him if he spray paints his FOTverse moniker of JUNK on all of her art. Junk says he has the access, and Tom thinks he needs to listen to the devil on his shoulder and bring it. Junk will draft his plans and begin his retribution in a few weeks.

- Darren Ploppleton, Tom's longtime Consolidated Cardboard co-worker, calls to see what's shakin' with his buddy. He apologizes for not having much contact with Tom at work since he got moved to Accounts Disputable. Tom assumes the department fights bills that people think CC should pay. Darren says it's sort of like that, but kinda weirder almost. For example, yesterday a guy from Kern Pharmaceuticals totally tore him a new one because he claimed that Kern did not have an active account with CC. Darren says he spends the day dealing with disputes about the existence of customer accounts. Tom agrees that this department is weirder than what he thought it would be. Darren says the work is a total drag, and it's worse because Rick Davies totally screwed up all of the files in the department. Darren can't believe Davies hasn't been fired. Tom thinks Davies might be the new hire, but Darren says he was in AD for a long time before Old Man Dalrymple, CC CEO, started moving him into different positions throughout the company.

Tom now remembers that Davies is the guy who's always shaking the vending machine in an attempt to get his beloved Toast Chee crackers. He suspects that Davies is shaking the moneytaker to try to get two snacks for the price of one, but Darren says he can never even get the one item to come out. Since nobody else has a problem with the machine, Darren says people believe that Davies has "The Vending Machine Curse". While Davies eventually gets his crackers, he sometimes has to smash the front of the vending machine to grab them. This destruction has yet to lead to his termination, so Darren says it must pay to be a former judge's grandson. Rick Davies is the grandson of disbarred Newbridge judge Montgomery Davies. Darren thinks that Judge Davies must have something on Old Man Dalrymple, which explains why he keeps Rick at the Double-C. Darren tells Tom about the rumors going around that Judge Davies used to have "device parties" in that old cabin out by The Devil's Breakfast Nook, a weird rock formation just east of a weird mud sculpture called Satan's Jukebox. The sculpture is located just beyond the Hell's Wash Basin hot springs. Judge Davies apparently filmed all these parties on 35 mm because he wanted the highest quality documentation of all the sick stuff that was happening. Darren says he can't even provide any of the details over the air. He's pretty sure that Rick Davies would have been fired two years ago if not for his grandfather's blackmailing efforts.

Darren says he doesn't want to dwell too much on work. Tom likes to leave that stuff at the plant, too. Darren changes the subject by asking Tom if he had fun at the Allan Toussaint show on Saturday. Tom had a good time, and Darren thought Toussaint was great. Darren didn't mention the venue, but my guess is that the show was at the Newbridge Jazz Academy, the site of the fateful Hammerhead vs. Sonny Rollins showdown in the fall of 1983. Tom had seen him twice before, but this was Darren's first Toussaint show. Darren asks Tom if he saw him dancing. Tom says they all did. Darren says he was having a blast shaking his moneymaker to that greasy funk the band was laying down. Tom is highly skeptical about the amount of income generated by Darren's "moneymaker", which he also refers to as his "groove thang." Darren says he's never tried to make money with it, but if he did, it would probably bring in six figures. Tom thinks a decimal point would have to be inserted somewhere for that statement to be accurate. Darren doesn't think Tom knows what he's talking about.

Darren was trying to get others to shake their moneymakers to the greasy funk, but nobody was up for it. He tried to make eye contact with Tom during his gyrations. Tom says nobody joined him because they were all there to see the Allan Toussaint perform, not to watch Darren's dancing. Darren is surprised to hear that because he was having a blast. Tom says the other 1,200 people were not having a blast watching him. They thought he was pretty annoying. Darren says he was just so into the the greasy funk those guys were laying down that he had to express himself by dancing ... and singing. Tom says the singing is what really pushed people over the edge. Darren thinks Tom is joking. He's not. Darren says he got so into the greasy funk those guys were putting down that he had to sing along. Tom mentions that his vocal accompaniment was marred by not knowing any of the lyrics to Toussaint's tunes. Darren says he was singing the same words that Allan was, but Tom points out that it was a few seconds after Allan sang them, creating an unpleasant reverb effect that suggested a faulty PA system.

Darren wants to know why nobody said anything. Tom says that people repeatedly yelled "Sit down!", but Darren interpreted these pleas as a directive to "Get down!", i.e., continue dancing and singing along with the greasy funk coming from the stage. Tom wants him to stop saying "greasy funk." Darren thinks it's the most appropriate term for what Toussaint's band was laying down. While it may be sonically accurate, Tom begs Darren not to use the term again. Darren thinks Tom will next criticize his rendition of The Robot. Tom liked it on a some sick level, but only because it was so embarrassing. Darren says the dance is funny and kitschy, and it cracks him up when the guy in the Prilosec commercial does it. Tom's glad that Darren was entertained by that, but he says it was very annoying to see at a live show when everyone is trying to focus on the music. Darren wonders why Allan Toussaint didn't say anything to him if his antics were so offensive to other concertgoers. Tom says Toussaint said stuff about Darren between almost every song. At one point, Toussaint asked, "Has anybody else had enough of this guy?" Darren thought he was referring to President Bush. Tom tells Darren that Toussaint was talking about him while pointing at him. Darren is shocked to hear this. Later in the show Darren thought he praised his air guitar skills. Tom says that Toussaint was being as sarcastic as anyone he's ever seen in his life. He didn't even have good seats, but he could see Toussaint roll his eyes while issuing the faux props. Darren wants to know why he'd be rolling his eyes. Tom says it was because he was playing air guitar on the lip of the stage while Toussaint was playing piano backed by a bassist and a drummer. No guitar. Darren says it sounded like there was a guitar. Tom says if he turned around to watch the show, he would have seen the guitar-free set-up. Darren says he got so caught up in the greasy funk those guys were laying down that he was confused about the instruments they were playing. Tom renews his request for Darren to stop saying "greasy funk," but Darren says Tom can't make him.

He asks Tom if he checked out his new hairstyle at the show. He thinks it's pretty cool, but Tom thought it was Part 2 of the embarrassing spectacle that went down on Saturday night. Tom says Darren is kinda not fooling anyone with the new look. Darren says he's just wearing a bandana around his head, but Tom thinks it's clear that he's losing his hair. Tom tells Darren that he shouldn't be ashamed of his hair loss. Darren denies going bald, reminding Tom about the really long hair poking out from underneath his bandana. Tom compares these tufts to the supposedly long hair emerging from the bandanas of Hulk Hogan or Brett Michaels. Darren calls Tom a jerk for suggesting he got the hairdo idea from the two aging reality television stars. He was actually inspired by a Viagra commercial in which Elvis Presley's "Viva Las Vegas" is tweaked into a chorus of "Viva Viagra!" Darren sings a bit of the jingle and says it's probably the coolest thing he's ever seen on TV, although he hasn't seen Cavemen yet. Tom thinks that may top the Viagra commercial. Darren thinks Tom has always been jealous of him. Tom disagrees. Darren asks Tom if the jealousy is the result of him hearing that he grooms himself down there. Tom tells Darren to stop. Darren says Kim Dalrymple was bragging about it to a lot of the girls at CC.

Darren thought his relationship with Old Man Dalrymple's 22-year-old daughter was going to last forever, and he made a big life change while dating her. He tells Tom that he made the right decision by not following Darren in pursuit of fleeting rock 'n roll dreams. When Darren last called last May, he was really feelin' it after The Consolidated won a corporate Battle of the Bands competition, defeating arch rival McKinley-Severson from Upper East Westbridge. Tom was holding things down on bass, and Darren subsequently hired Rupert Threadwell to manage the renamed Hell Toupee. Darren was writing some original songs: a Kim-inspired balled called "Little Lover Girl" that was primed for Tom's fuzz pedals, a slice of John Cougar Mellencampy Americana that denounced "Jewish liberals" while supporting GWB's fight for freedom, and a rip-off of Scorpions' "Rock You Like a Hurricane" that hails Werner as a "hero with a bag of magic/the man who makes the snow come." Darren was certain that Hell Toupee (Tom loathed the name) was primed for rock stardom and world tours, but Tom declined to quit his job at CC, leave his family, and move in with Darren, Kim, and the other bandmates. Tom says it's not hard to believe this arrangement wasn't one for the ages.

Darren doesn't think Tom will believe that Kim couldn't deal with some of his idiosyncrasies. For example, Darren's brother, Chief Ray, who is the Newbridge Fire Chief, kept coming to their house to do spot inspections. He was specifically interested in searching their bedroom, and more specificially Kim's underwear drawer. Darren admits it was weird. Kim also didn't like that they could never go out to restaurants. Darren says he doesn't like anyone watching him eat, including Kim. She'd make a big meal, and he'd go into the garage to eat his hut dog in the dark. Tom's not familiar with a "hut dog", so Darren asks him if he's ever been to a baseball game. Tom says he's been to one, but he still doesn't know about a "hut dog". Darren says it's a frank on a bun. Tom tells him this is called a "h-o-t dog". Darren thought it was a hut dog because food vendors at baseball games pull them out of the steaming trays in those steel cookers, aka the "hut". Tom says that is a new one to him. Darren thinks it makes perfect sense. Tom says it's makes zero sense. Darren prefers to eat in darkness because he also can't stand looking at his own food. It makes him sick. Tom now understands why he never sees him eating lunch in the CC cafeteria. Darren says that when the lunch whistle blows, he'll head to the broom closet on the 72nd floor. He turns the light out and eats five handburgers. Tom thinks that's a lot of food, but Darren assures him that he can put it away.

Kim also had major problems with his affliction. Darren suffers from Van Rothner's Syndrome in reverse. Tom doesn't even know about the non-reversed VRS. Darren says it's basically a fancy term for needing to make water and the other thing in public. Tom doesn't want any more details. Darren says he's lucky that his new lady, Sheila Larson, doesn't judge him. The name sounds familiar to Tom, and Darren says that Larson used to be married to a huge rock star named Corey Harris. Tom also knows her because she's engaged to his brother. Darren asks him if she's engaged to Ron, Lon, John, or San. Tom says San was a Korean exchange student the Scharplings once hosted. Darren doesn't think it could be Dom, but it is. He thinks Tom must be kidding, but Tom says they've been engaged for a while.

Darren thinks that news is a bigger bombshell than the one Sheila laid on him last night. In a nutshell, Sheila isn't 100% a woman. Tom doesn't want to know about this, and he points out that Larson had a kid with Corey Harris. Darren's not sure how that worked out, but he says their son is actually a decent kid. He says Sky Stalker knows when to make himself scarce and doesn't impede on his marathon sessions with Sheila. Tom thinks this is usually the sign of a great kid. He doesn't want to know anything about these sessions, but Darren wants to know more about this thing with Dom because it's totally bumming him out. He thinks Tom knows that it will have to be settled "Newbridge-style". Tom is scared to know what this means, and Darren says his fears are justified since it involves a relative. Darren says he's gotta barge him. He will knock Dom out, take him down to the dock, put him on a barge, and shove him out to sea. Dom will float down the Newbridge Straits and right out into the Atlantic Ocean in what amounts to a death sentence. Darren says his barging skills have been honed in 13 prior bargings, and Tom asks him not to make Dom his 14th. Tom has a ton of issues with his brother, but he doesn't want to see him taken out.

Rock throwing phenom Melissa Peuchk, Left Pull Guard for the Central North Drawbridge Contusion Causers, shows off during a skills competition

Darren gives Tom another option: entrapping Dom inside the triskaidecagon. Tom doesn't know what that is. Darren calls him a "jidierk" for not knowing that it's a 13-sided polygon. Darren says he just crafted the hybrid insult that's part idiot, part jerk. Darren gives Tom permission to use it, but Tom declines. The triskaidecagon is the enclosure where the local rock throwing league holds their violent rock throwing matches. Darren plays Right Smash Tackle for the