Colfax McLiverneck

What do these words have in common: festooned, figment, flange, corn, frigate, and fuselage? If you said "They all start with F," you're wrong!

And here's the news from Lake Ho-Begone: yo mamma was bludgeoned to death with a can of corn.

And that's the news from Lake Wobegon, where I once lost a game of cornhole to Donnie Wahlberg.

And that's the news from Lake Woe-be-here, where all the women are dead, all the men are also dead, and all the children are worshiping Satan in the corn field.

I hear that old piano/From down the avenue/I smell the cornbread burning/I look around for the nearest fire escape

Well, it's been a quiet week in Lake Cornbegone.

A dark night in a city that knows how to appreciate comedy. On the 12th floor of the Earwolf building, one man is still trying to find the answers to life's nonsensical questions: Corny Sweaterman, Private Dick.

Sam's argument: Religion breeds evil and causes mass murder because it teaches ignorance. David's argument: But religion makes me feel good! I don't know how Sam can continue to argue with such logic. And also, corn.

We need to talk about Kevin Bacon's creamed corn fetish.

Breaking: The Cob Robber KOed the Turd Burglar early in the third round.

99 cobs of corn on the wall/99 cobs of corn/Take one down, shove it up your butt/98 cobs of corn on the wall

Welcome to Ruth's Chris's ruthless Christmas briss booth! There's free popcorn on the way out.

In an audacious display of nefariousness, the Cornburglar has struck again—and the Jolly Green Giant is totally butt-hurt about it, if you know what I mean...

Pro tip from Cornpone the Avenger: "Hey kids! Never count your cobs before they're shucked. See you next time byeeeeee!."

I've seen fire and I've seen rain/I've seen fields of corn that I thought would never end/I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend/But I always hoped that there would be a satisfying resolution to Hee Haw's "Where O Where Are You Tonight" segment

Fine work sir! Huzzah! (Perchance was there corn in that dump?)

Arguably an astoundingly atrocious appetizer, award-aggregating actress Amy Adams' acorn and anchovy applesauce altogether annihilated her Annual August Affair.

Concerning Clumsy Clarence's condition: careless cartwheeling caused a calamitous crash at the cattle crossing, crushing his clavicle and catapulting him into Cardinal Caldecott's cornfield.

It was the best of corn, it was the worst of corn. And believe you me, that worst corn was very nasty.

Doritos, light of my life, fire of my loins. Bring thy corny goodness hither, and linger awhile.

Jimmy cracked corn, and...hey, wait a minute. Just how does one "crack" corn, anyway?

Leave your cob under the pillow, my child, and the Corn Fairy will poke kernels into your turdles with his long, cold fingernails while you sleep.

"If you prick me does not a cascade of tiny grizzlies spill out of my body onto the ground?" This is corntastic.

I spy through my cornea a Bornean euphoniumist named Victoria with sleep apnea and a hernia wearing a hat that says "It's Hornier in California!".

Today's ep is sponsored by the Cornthusiasts Society of Cornwall, Nebraska. Please visit them online at potatoescansuckit.com.