Zack:Does Revancha mean "Sausage Man?" The Implacable Sausage Man.

Dr. Thorpe:No explosion can appease the implacable Sausage Man. He's hell-bent on finding the evil scientist who deep-fried him.

Zack:"Each fennel in my girth is another tombstone in your graveyard, Javier!" BOOM!

Dr. Thorpe:"What can we do to placate you, Sausage Man? May we offer you money? Lawyers? The best doctors in the world? How on earth can we calm you and put a cease to your rampage?"

Zack:"I never saw such a rampage!" *slide-whistle*

Dr. Thorpe:Ooooh. Ouch. If there's one thing that will NOT placate the Sausage Man, it's more sausage jokes.

Zack:I need to get me a pair of shades like his so I can fall asleep during a lecture and my professor will think I'm wide awake.

Dr. Thorpe:I need a leather vest like his so I can show off my delicious beer-battered arms.


Dr. Thorpe:One time my dad stole a roll of brightly-colored stickers from a butcher's counter that said "BREASTS" and went to the video store and stuck them on all the movies that looked likely to contain nudity.

Zack:I bet a few kids came back gravely disappointed with their copy of Barton Fink.

Dr. Thorpe:But of course "nuevo estreno" means "nerve strain," which is the Mexican term for edge-of-your-seat action spectaculars.

Zack:Muerte los Cinemacircularos! Largo Vivo los Nuevo Estreno! Then Sausage Man pulls a gun out of his stomach.

Dr. Thorpe:I bet at the end of this movie, Sausage Man has finally tracked down and destroyed those who turned him into such a horrible monster, and the chief of police says to him "Sausage Man, now that you've found your vengence, I hope that you will be placated and your bloody swath of urban violence can be put to rest." Then Sausage Man says "no, there is still work to be done, I will not rest until every criminal in this city is dead or in jail." And then the police chief says "I never saw such an implacable man," and then Sausage Man makes a hilarious face and it freeze-frames.

Zack:Then Arsenio Hall raises his head up out of the pile of dead and mutilated bodies Sausage Man has left in his wake.

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About This Column

Fashion SWAT... the fashion industry is obsessed with impracticality. We know that what designers create was never meant to be worn by the grimy masses, but that doesn't somehow diminish how ridiculous many of these costumes are. Make no mistake, they are costumes, and like a Halloween prize pageant we will turn our discerning gaze on the grievous fashion misfires of Paris, Milan, and New York. We're not pulling any punches, and we're definitely not interested in making any friends. We're Joan Rivers without Melissa Rivers to temper our screeching. We're the Fashion Police in jack boots. We are Fashion SWAT.

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