Hello and welcome again to another edition of Iriliophy where since January 2009 we have put our best scientist Inchol on the task of

discovering the cure for premature detonation.

That fat kid is working harder than I've seen fat kids work before.

You know, I've heard Asian kids are good at this stuff, but I have no idea how good.

Did someone get after us before, us before they're like, I know you're lying now because no one from North Korea is fat.

Yeah, yeah, well apparently he's never seen our fat Korean face.

I mean, this little kid has a face like the stave puffed marshmittle man.

Listen, man, I can't afford this.

You know, I'm pretty sure he's hiding food in his cheeks. They can't be that big just on their own.

He's starting to eat my shoe.

Save the shoelaces. You can transfer them to your new shoes.

These are expensive shoes.

Are they the penny loafers with the actual penny?

Yeah, and he ate the penny too.

He's supposed to limit himself to a cardboard box a day, but now he's eating my shoes.

Didn't we chain him up to the wall?

Do you eat the chain too, you fat bastard?

And as... fat bastard. And it's really when this kid goes after food.

I mean it just kind of rolls over the food and then just absorbs it I'm sure.

Nothing is working. None of our prior parental skills have worked.

Fortunately we have a skunk dick that might help us here.

Really? And what would be the best method to keep Inchol in line?

...