As demonstrated by the little girl's "I've just had an ice cube put down my back but luckily I'm already starting to see the funny side" look of 'terror', Grannies are never, ever, EVER frightening. Well, except when they smell sherry. So as long as our young heroine isn't smuggling trifle*, she'll be fine.
*Amazingly, not an inappropriate euphemism
Terror Beneath The Sea
Your chances of survival don't look great here, miss...but you might wanna increase them just slightly by putting your bloody scuba mouthpiece in. Oh wait, we get it - that's what all the GASPing is about, right? Oh, very clever. Carry on.
"I dunno Dave, I mean we've been friends for years, but...I'm just having a hard time believing your 'evil tiny men that you have to kneel down to shoot' story, it all sounds so far-fetc-...holy crap, I think I see them!"
Wherever this 'burning' took place, they clearly have the shittest coroner on earth.
"So, like, I know you're called that, but what is it exactly that you inherited, mate? Oh, hang on - yeah, no, I do see it now. Well, don't get upset; it's probably nothing a a quick whip around with the Gillette won't fix."
Uh...whatever that 'stuff' is, is almost certainly has no place in a kitchen fridge. Christ, haven't the men in this house ever heard of tissues?
Next time you plan to turn up at your mate's dinner party with a bottle of £2.49 antifreeze, think again. It might just have been brewed up in a filthy bong by a wizened old hippie with no skull. NEAR SOME LIGHTNING. Not so cheerfully gluggable now, eh?
Track Of The Moon Beast
Which track do they mean, y'reckon - 1,500m? 400m Hurdles? Maybe it's more track and field. Whatever, he's clearly pretty decent at it - bronze is nothing to be embarrassed about, fella. We bet the other Moon People were very proud of you.
Next: Glue! Hiding! Cigars!