Sci-Fried Eggs Episode 4 #130529


sci-fried-eggs-logoThis week the Sci-Fried Eggs come back home to their studios at Bathurst Manor.  Chuck tries to explain the season finale of Doctor Who to Doc who has no idea what is going on.  The Eggs share an interview with scream queen Cyndi Crotts from XCon.  Also, at Port City Pop Con a couple weeks back, the Eggs sat down with Doug Jones, also known as Abe Sapien of Hellboy fame and many other roles such as characters from Pan’s Labyrinth.  Doc and Chuck also discuss who would win in a fight: Han Solo or Malcolm Reynolds.  And the Eggs also share an interview with the well-traveled, well-versed, and former Disney Imagineer Paris Themmen, who you also may know as Mike Teavee from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

Sci-Fried Eggs Episode 4 – Click to Listen or Download

Sci-Fried Eggs: Episode 4, Segment 1
The Doctor Who Finale

Sci-Fried Eggs: Episode 4, Segment 2
Cyndi Crotts at X-Con Myrtle Beach

Sci-Fried Eggs: Episode 4, Segment 3
Doug Jones at Port City Pop Con

Sci-Fried Eggs: Episode 4, Segment 4
Who Would Win: Han Solo vs. Malcolm Reynolds

Sci-Fried Eggs: Episode 4, Segment 5
Paris Themmen at Port City Pop Con

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About BatDoc

I’m a dynamic figure, often seen scaling buildings and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train and bus stations on lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention and reducing high-traffic areas. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees and write award-winning plays about pastry. I manage time efficiently. Occasionally, I make meatloaf. I have been known to woo women with my sensuous and god-like electric air-guitar playing. I can pilot riding lawnmowers up severe inclines with unflagging speed and accuracy and can cook 30-Minute Brownies in 20 minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Brazil. Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon River Basin from a horde of ferocious smaller-than-your-pinky-finger fire ants. When I’m bored, I build full size models of airplanes out of Popsicle sticks. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, I repair TVs and VCRs free of charge. I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Last summer, I toured Wisconsin and Minnesota with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration. I bat 400. My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me. I can hurl coat hangers at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read War and Peace, Moby Dick, and Great Expectations in one day and still had time to repaint the exterior of my house that afternoon. Though not a narc, I have performed several covert operations with the CIA. I can recalibrate and repair gas lines with blinding speed and precision, and I don't require a face mask. I still find time to sleep eight hours a night; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation to Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me. I balance; I weave; I dodge; I frolic; and my bills are all paid. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four course meals using only a jello mold and a toaster oven. I used to breed prize-winning killer dolphins. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, performed open-heart surgery, and have spoken with Elvis. I have been to Area 51 and seen the complex. I enjoy cake and my best friends are Edmund the Penguin and Dr. Narco the Intelligent Thermos. I tied Jose Canseco in home runs last week, and I’m mere words away from completing a New York Times crossword puzzle I started on in 1988. Volumes and volumes of written works have been produced about me, but they were all lost in the fire. I am an extrovert. I’m marginally more popular with feminist than Rush Limbaugh. I don't scrape my vegetables onto my grandmother's plate when no one is looking. Hard as it may be to believe, I have never lost a pole-vaulting competition. I was nowhere near the grassy knoll on November 22, 1963. I’ve never hit a silver-medalist in the knee with a club. I wear sensible clothing, and I did not mastermind Julius Caesar's death. That was Cassius.

Posted on May 29, 2013, in Audio Awesome, Podcasts, Sci-Fried Eggs! and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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