Previous “Best Of” posts

Tampa Bay’s Fauxback Uniform

Monday, July 2nd, 2012

Major League Baseball has a long history, one which dates back almost 150 years. In tribute to that history, teams have occasionally worn throwback uniforms from their own storied pasts. For example, the 2012 Houston Astros can be seen below, wearing the team’s amazing original Colt .45s uniform from 1962 in commemoration of their fiftieth anniversary.

Colt .45s Throwback Jersey
Helluva Uniform

It’s a great tradition, even if it’s also yet another way for teams to sell overpriced merchandise. But what is a lowly expansion team, one with just fifteen years of history, to do? Apparently, for the Tampa Bay Rays, the answer was not “wait until we have some real history”. Instead, the team opted to create a godawful fake throwback uniform. Here’s manager Joe Maddon “modeling”:

The Rays Godawful Fauxback Uniform

In previous Turn Back The Clock games, Tampa Bay wore uniforms from other Florida teams of the past, like the Tampa Tarpons or St. Pete Pelicans. They’ve even brought back the original 1998 Tampa Bay Devil Rays uniform:

The Devil Rays Original Uniform
You deserved better, Mr. Boggs.

Ugly though that was, at least it was authentic. The fauxback seen above, however, is entirely a work of fiction. The organization stated that the uniforms were designed to look like what the team would have worn in 1979, and that they were inspired by the late 70s Padres uniform:

The 1978 Padres Uniform
So very 70s

It seems that “inspired by” is a euphemism for “blatantly ripped off from”, which means that in addition to being phony, the Rays’ fashion fiasco isn’t even original. Perhaps the only custom touch is the design in the center of the “a” (as well as the “b” on the hat), which appears to be a reference to the roof of Tropicana Field, the Rays home park.

Tropicana Field From Above
Tropicana Field from above; Inset: The counterfeit Rays logo
[Photo credit: USRaven]

That would be a nice touch, but for the fact that the Trop is one of the worst stadiums in the bigs. Construction on it started way back in 1986, before St. Petersburg even had a team, and it ultimately didn’t attract a Major League team until the Rays started playing there in 1998. Its fixed dome is ringed by four catwalks which can be hit by batted balls, resulting in some truly bizarre ground rules. The attempt to do something creative is respectable, but reminding folks that you play baseball in a venue that can best be described as a poorly-lit Sam’s Club is probably not the way to go.

In the end though, there is some good news, as karma may just be real. While wearing their phony throwbacks on Saturday night, the Rays were handed a 6-2 loss by the Detroit Tigers.

The MagSafe to MagSafe 2 Adapter

Wednesday, June 20th, 2012

The Adapter
This is the MagSafe to MagSafe 2 adapter.

The Adapter, size comparison
This is the MagSafe to MagSafe 2 adapter, shown next to an oversized novelty quarter for size comparison.

The Adapter on its card
This is the MagSafe to MagSafe 2 adapter, attached to a piece of card stock, as it shipped.

The Adapter and its box
This is the MagSafe to MagSafe 2 adapter attached to a piece of card stock, along with the box it came in, and the booklets of information which accompanied it.

The Adapter, its box, and the card it rode in on.
This is the MagSafe to MagSafe 2 adapter attached to a piece of card stock, along with the box it came in, the booklets of information which accompanied it, and the piece of cardboard to which that box was attached (and to which a packing slip is still attached).

The Adapter, its box, the card it rode in on, and the box which contained it all.
This is the MagSafe to MagSafe 2 adapter attached to a piece of card stock, along with the box it came in, the booklets of information which accompanied it, the piece of cardboard to which that box was attached (and to which a packing slip is still attached), and the box in which all that arrived.

The AdapterFor the sake of completeness, this is the MagSafe to MagSafe 2 adapter attached to a piece of card stock, along with the box it came in, the booklets of information which accompanied it, the piece of cardboard to which that box was attached (and to which a packing slip is still attached), the box in which all that arrived, and the not-one-but-two missed delivery slips.

The Adapter
Not pictured: The kitchen sink

Over-Promise and Under-Deliver

Wednesday, May 23rd, 2012

We’ve covered The Callousness of Siri before, but how about Siri’s accuracy? You’ve likely seen the Apple ad featuring Samuel L. Jackson using Siri1. If you’ve used Siri yourself, however, you know the disclaimer of “Sequences shortened” is more than an understatement. They’ve edited out the inevitable “No.…NO.…NO!” as well as significant quantities of exasperated sighs. After hearing Jackson say the word “hotspacho” for the umpteenth time, I decided to run a little test.

How Siri interprets it when I say “Remind me to put the gazpacho on ice in an hour”:

  • Put the spot show on ice

  • Put the spots on Icenhour

  • Put tickets botulinum2

Thinking that perhaps my enunciation was poor, I attempted the same thing with the exact audio from the ad3. Things went from bad to worse:

How Siri interprets it when Samuel L. Jackson says “Remind me to put the gazpacho on ice in an hour”:

  • Call Mirium Booksbaum

  • Call Anna-Genelle Harev

  • Call Ron Ridenhour

I can’t imagine why these all turned into phone calls, but it’s especially amusing to know that all of the above names are actually combinations of my various contacts invented by Siri, not real people. Finally, in desperation, I attempted to get Siri to understand just the word “gazpacho”.

How Siri interprets the word “gazpacho”:

  • Just Bacchio

  • This Bogil

  • This Poncho

Cheese and crackers. Perhaps I should just be thankful Siri didn’t tell me to go back to Russia4.


  1. Archived here. ↩︎

  2. Yeah, “botulinum”, there’s a word I use frequently. ↩︎

  3. Using this audio clip. ↩︎

  4. The relevant video and the obligatory archive. ↩︎

The Hindenburg

Thursday, May 10th, 2012

This week marks the 75th anniversary of the Hindenburg disaster, a wreck perhaps best known for introducing the phrase “Oh, the humanity” to our lexicon. While chatting with my pal Marco a while back, I realized I knew very little of the real story. Having cured my own ignorance, I now seek to pass on some interesting notes.

The Famous Photo

Let’s start with the iconic image from the disaster. While many photos were taken as the Hindenburg burned, a picture believed to have been taken by Sam Shere1 has become the iconic shot:

The Famous Hindenburg Photo
The Most Famous Image of the Hindenburg Disaster

What you may well not know about this photo is what it conceals, specifically on the airship’s stern. Here’s what the Hindenburg looked like when it wasn’t on fire.

A Lesser-Known Hindenburg Photo

Suddenly the whole thing isn’t quite so sympathetic, is it? Granted, in 1937 when the Hindenburg was flying, the swastika was simply part of the then-new flag of Germany. In the time since then, however, that symbol has of course taken on much darker meaning. It’s difficult to imagine Shere’s photo being so widely known if the tail, and the swastika it contained, weren’t so perfectly obliterated.

“Oh, the Humanity”

Radio reporter Herbert Morrison was on the scene for WLS, along with his engineer Charlie Nehlsen. They were already recording when the disaster occurred, and Morrison’s vivid, emotional exposition is a classic of reporting. Here’s a partial quote3:

Oh, it’s flashing, it’s flashing terribly. It’s bursting into flames and falling on the mooring mast. Oh, this is one of the worst catastrophes – the flames are leaping 400, 500 feet into the sky. It’s a terrific crash, ladies and gentlemen, the smoke and the flames. And now it’s crashing to the ground, not quite at the mooring mast. Oh, the humanity!

Morrison’s response is perhaps most striking in that it contains a great deal more decorum than we’d get nowadays. However, his response may also have been a bit excessive given the scope of the disaster. The Hindenburg had only 97 souls aboard, 36 passengers and 61 crew. Further, only 35 of those people onboard perished, along with one member of the ground crew. While no doubt a tragedy, just 36 lives were lost, and the majority of those onboard the airship survived.

Cause: Unknown

To this day, the exact cause of the disaster is unknown. Shere’s photograph of the Zeppelin on fire always led me to believe the Hindenburg had collided with the mooring tower seen in the foreground, causing it to burst into flame. That’s not the case, however, as the airship caught fire while in the air and then crashed to the ground. The source of the fire is the subject of much debate, with many theories, and no definitive answers.

That’s all for today, but remember, the more you knowledge is powerfully half the battle. And if you’re interested to learn more about the Hindenburg, consult your local Wikipedia.


  1. Bill Jay has a well-researched history of the photograph and Shere on his site. ↩︎

  2. The Atlantic recently collected a large number of Hindenburg photos, including this one. ↩︎

  3. I’ve archived a longer recording for easy listening4. ↩︎

  4. As if the many theories on the Hindenburg itself weren’t enough, there’s even speculation that the famous recording is sped up, and that Morrison’s voice was much deeper than is heard in that recording. ↩︎

My Darling, I Got You a Rat

Monday, April 16th, 2012

Previously, I joked about APOPO, an organization which uses trained rats to remove landmines and detect tuberculosis1. As penance for my joke, I made a donation to this fine organization and I now receive occasional updates from them.

In honor of April 4th’s International Day for Mine Awareness, and because I’m incredibly romantical, I adopted a HeroRAT in the name of my special lady. When I told her “I got you a rat”, let me tell you, she. was. grateful. Her rat’s name is Mojo, and he’s shockingly intelligent. Witness this letter he wrote:

Mojo the rat's letter
Dictated, but not read?

That rat’s got quite the vocabulary, and in time, he’ll also have quite the skill set. Hey, how many land mines do you think you could clear? The answer is almost certainly one, at which point your career would be over with a very literal bang. Unlike your clumsy ass, however, the rats are small enough to avoid setting off the land mines. Indeed, I’d always envisioned the HeroRATs as being very mouse-like. The picture of Mojo seen above makes him seem quite tiny.

That is a big rat.

OK, nevermind. That is a huge rat.

Anyhow, if you want to get some of your own sweet, sweet just-had-a-rodent-adopted-in-my-name action from your special someone, donate to APOPO2. For just a few dollars, you too could be the proud sponsor of a giant-ass life-saving rat.

Love & whiskers,


  1. Not at the same time. ↩︎

  2. As they’re an out-of-country, however, APOPO doesn’t have 501(c)(3) status. To make a tax-deductible donation, you can use the “Friends of” area of the King Baudoin Fondation’s donation page. ↩︎

The Bike Prank

Wednesday, April 11th, 2012

Last fall, John Hargrave of began a prank war with‘s own Rob Cockerham. To read about the initial skirmishes, see the Pizza Limo Prank (Rob’s side and John’s side) as well as “Flowers From His Lover” (John’s side and Rob’s side). I’ve known Rob for a couple years now, so I told him that if he needed it, I’d help hit John, pro-bono – you know, right in the bones.

The Plan

Rob’s next idea to prank John was both amusing and simple. First, Rob would send a bicycle lock key to John’s neighbor Pam, who’d inadvertently involved herself in the whole mess during the aforementioned Flowers prank. After some time had passed, I’d lock a bike to John’s house in some fashion, using the lock associated with the previously-mailed key. Then we’d wait to see if John or Pam could figure out the mystery, or if a hacksaw would be required.

Acquiring The Materials

First up, I needed to get a bicycle. Not just any bicycle however. No, for maximum comedic effect, the occasion called for a truly crappy bicycle. To Craigslist!

YOU: Have a rusted-out, piece of crap bike that's taking up space in your garage/basement/attic. It doesn't change gears, it's missing a wheel, it's missing a seat. Don't care! The more beat-up, the better. I: I need a barely-recognizable bike for an art installation. I have a car to take away your piece of crap. And several singles, if you so require. I am willing to pay literally ones of dollars for your piece of crap bike. $1! $2! Maybe even $9! Probably not much more than that, though. Got something which requires quotation marks to call it a "bicycle"? Get in touch, I'll take it away.
Literally ones of dollars

Amazingly, after posting this wholly ridiculous ad, I received a response. A single, solitary response, yes, but that was more than enough. Or exactly enough. It was not too few, anyhow. I met up with the seller J, slapped seven whole dollars in his hands and took ownership of my new sacrificial bike. Not wanting to make J an accessory to…whatever crime this might be, when he asked what I planned to do with the bike, I said it was for an “art installation”. If we can agree that pranking is an art, that might even be true.

So what kind of bike does $7 buy you? In this case, it netted a 1984 Huffy Omni-10 girls bike, with flat tires and no brakes, in blue. In so very much blue. Gaze upon it in awe.

The Blue Bike from the front
That is just a funny bicycle.

The other necessary piece was the bike lock. You can’t leave such a sweet ride standing around unprotected, after all. Why, a Smurf could come along and steal it at any moment. The lock was Rob’s department, and he shipped it to me, along with one key.

The second key was already on its way to Pam, to provide enough lead time that she’d forget about it. After that, we waited for John to strike back at Rob, knowing we could immediately hit him hard and fast with the classic locked-a-blindingly-blue-bike-to-your-house gambit.

A Hiccup

Unfortunately, a hiccup soon occurred, as John’s neighbor Pam was a bit more on the ball than we’d expected. When she received the key, she immediately took it to John, to see if he knew what was up. He didn’t, but with the key already in his possession, this prank would be over much too quickly. What now?

Rob opted to proceed with the plan in slightly modified form, using a new lock. After contemplating new ways to deliver the key (such as “inside a bag of manure” and “buried in a Fleshlight”), Rob decided to send a fire extinguisher to John’s house.


To go with the fire extinguisher, we’d use a keyless Wordlock, with the password set to “FIRE”. John would receive the fire extinguisher in the mail and worry about what flammable thing might be coming next. Instead, a bike would arrive, and he’d have to put the two together to unlock it.

On With the Show

All this took awhile, however, while the bike gradually receded into the landscape of my living room. Worse, John had yet to strike back. Ultimately, after months of waiting, Rob and I agreed that a prank war is no place for gentlemen. So on a recent Saturday night, my accomplice Maggie and I drove out to John’s place. On the way, I worried that John and his wife might have gone out for the evening, and could come back, catching us in the act. Then I remembered that they have kids, and are therefore legally prohibited from being out on weekends.

We knew John’s address, but because his hillbilly backwater of a town is not on Google Street View, we had no idea what his house looked like. It took a few laps to find the right house number, and each time, we passed an ominous State Police car. Ultimately though, we found the right house, and I hopped out to attach the bicycle.

The original plan had called for the bike to be attached to John’s porch railing, but the porch was quite small. Thankfully, there was a lamp much closer to the street where the neighbors would be sure to see it. Perfect! I proceeded to attach the bike, using both locks – why not make things a bit more difficult for him? As planned, the word lock was set to “FIRE”, but I left it lined up to “FUNY”. That’s a detail likely to be missed, but the little touches are important.

The Bike Locked in Front of John's House (Sort Of)
Just below “FUNY” is “BAIL”, a bad omen if I’ve ever seen one.

Once the locks were secured, I hightailed it out of there. We took one more lap to get a few pictures, then disappeared into the night.

The Bike Locked in Front of John's House (Sort Of)
(John’s house obscured via weirdification)

Fall Out

So what was the result? Well, John’s done an excellent job of recapping the whole thing over on Zug, so give it a read. The ending is particularly great.

After we’d left, I feared it might be possible to simply lift the bike off the lamppost. Ultimately, it was, but it took several days, and John’s ten year old, to realize it. In the meantime, John’s neighbors’ property values plummeted, and he was widely loathed. Success!

Epilogue: The Capper

The morning after the prank, I received an email from, John’s humor site. Its subject read “ You won the “Get Off My Lawn” trophy!” My heart jumped. How had I been identified so quickly? Actually, this was just an extremely funny coincidence, as the email was sent in honor of my sign-up anniversary for the site.

Zug Email
Now That’s Comedic Timing

Nevertheless, John had managed to get me back a bit, without even knowing it.

Update (April 13th, 2012): Be sure to check out Rob’s writeup for deep background on the whole thing.

Here Comes the Pizza!

Friday, April 6th, 2012

Forgive me dear readers, but this post is not entirely written for you. It is in part for confused strangers in the future, strangers who find themselves typing the phrase “Here Comes the Pizza!” into a search engine, perhaps along with “Paul Kafasis”. If you’re one of those searchers, welcome. Either way, read on to find out what it all means.

As part of Fenway Park’s centennial celebration, Boston Red Sox fans could purchase ceremonial bricks to be placed inside the stadium. With my chances of making the bigs dwindling ever lower, this seemed the best way to have my name enshrined in a major league ballpark. However, I was unsure of what sort of message to include alongside my name.

While simple and classy, this possibility was unlikely to be unique:

Paul Kafasis - Welcome To Friendly Fenway
Welcome to Friendly Fenway

Similarly, while this is uplifting, it was likely to be repeated by many others:

Paul Kafasis - Believe in Boston
Believe in Boston

Ultimately I realize I wanted something that was both truly distinctive and had the ability to make people smile. I hit on the idea of memorable announcer calls. After immediately eliminating Joe Buck’s lackluster 2004 and 2007 World Series efforts from consideration, I remembered the perfect call.

It came from Boston’s 2007 Patriots’ Day game, courtesy of Red Sox broadcaster Jerry Remy. Towards the end of a relative blowout by the Red Sox, something strange happened in foul territory down the left field line. Angels outfielder Garrett Anderson went after a pop fly in the stands, and though he failed to come up with the ball, he did manage to knock multiple beers all over one unlucky fan.1

The best was yet to come, however, as a full beat later an entire slice of pizza flew out of nowhere and nailed the poor bastard. You can see it here in mid-air, inexpertly telestrated by your humble author:

Mid-Crime Photograph
(Telestration is harder than you think)

As Remy and his partner Don Orsillo reviewed the event, they repeatedly fell into hysterics. Following multiple viewings of the hit, and a review of the evidence, Remy provided color commentary of the crime:

Hopefully plenty of other Sox fans remember this little occurrence, but if it’s the first you’ve heard of it, consider yourself in the know.2 But how does this tale of cockamamiery relate to our story? Regular readers may have already guessed, while future searchers already know:

The final brick, reading Paul Kafasis - Here Comes The Pizza!
This brick’s twin now resides at 4 Yawkey Way.

Yes folks, I am foolish enough to have forever enshrined Jerry Remy’s wonderful call of “Here comes the pizza!” inside the confines of America’s most beloved ballpark. My hope is that, like the incident it references, this brick will prove simultaneously hilarious and confusing to generations of fans.3 May it inspire both laughs and befuddled Google searches for many years to come.

Update (April 13th, 2012): See the brick in the wild, with this follow-up post.


  1. For longtime readers wondering about the Beerconomics, it was at least $13.75 worth of alcohol. ↩︎

  2. Be sure to view the entire affair (also archived here in the event of a YouTube-pocalypse). It’s educational and enjoyable – edujoyable. ↩︎

  3. The full details of the story were later revealed by the Boston Globe, in an article mysteriously missing from their site but helpfully available via the Wayback Machine. ↩︎

The Dyson Airblade vs. The Excel Xlerator

Thursday, March 8th, 2012

Speaking of men’s rooms, let’s talk about hand dryers. This is the Dyson Airblade:

Dyson Airblade
(Or it may be some sort of strange silver bullfrog)

Airblades aren’t terribly common, but they can sometimes be found in the restrooms of large public places like the San Francisco International Airport1. Posted near any Airblade will be a set of instructions, which is a bad sign right off the bat. Far more work is required than just punching a button to activate this dryer. The machine is fussy and rather particular, which makes sense given that it was designed by the British.

Nevertheless, the Airblade has won several prestigious design awards and received a great deal of hype since its release approximately 5 years ago. At the time, it was the first air dryer that really worked. Despite the fact that the Airblade looks like hand guillotine, your formerly-wet paws emerge from it intact and remarkably dry2. With unheated air and automatic activation, the Airblade should be energy-efficient and hygienic as well.

So what’s the problem, besides the egregious $1600 price tag? The issue is that the Airblade’s hand opening is simply too narrow. As countless disgusted users online attest, when you use the Dyson, your fingers will inevitably be blown against the front or back edges of the device. At best, this will leave you with hands that are not at all clean. The more obsessive-compulsive may find themselves in an infinite loop of washing, then drying, resulting in dirtying which then sends them back to washing all over again.

Fortunately, just as the Airblade was beginning to get some traction, a new challenger stepped into the bathroom. Behold the Xlerator, from Excel:

The Xlerator

Like the Airblade, the Xlerator is automatically activated and energy-efficient, matching Dyson’s “80% less energy than regular hand dryers” claim. The similarities end there, however, because this is not some expensive English fop of a hand dryer.

No, the Xlerator is made right here in the good ol’ US of A, and it’ll set you back just 400 bucks. Instead of an overwrought solution, the Xlerator carries on our proud tradition of sticking an enormous freaking engine in there to get the job done3. When you shove your sopping mitts under an Xlerator, its vacuum blower motor will automatically spin at 20,000 RPMs to fire a powerful jet of warm air directly down onto your hands at over 150 miles per hour.

But does it work? Oh, you’d better believe it. If you’re fortunate enough to have any skin left when the Xlerator’s done, it’ll be drier than the Mojave. It’s simple and effective.

Best of all? The Xlerator’s “instructions“ consist of just three little words:

Feel The Power
Feel The Power

National Pride: It’s not just for hot dog eating contests anymore.


  1. Yes, I pulled out my camera and took pictures in a bathroom. I do these things for you. ↩︎

  2. Rumors that a disgruntled Dyson employee managed to produce a small number of units wherein the “air blade” was replaced with an actual blade are as yet unconfirmed. ↩︎

  3. Detroit automobiles and the Space Shuttle being but two other examples. ↩︎

Make ‘Em An Offer They Can Refuse

Tuesday, February 14th, 2012

Apparently figuring the world wasn’t stupid enough already, Pizza Hut has decided to get into the wedding business. Not content with ruining dinner, they’re now looking to ruin the wedding proposal too. Specifically, Pizza Hut is hoping to trick as many as ten idiots into proposing to their significant others with a big old box of disgusting. Don’t believe it?

Pizza Hut's Proposal Website
Even when their page disappears, OFT will remember.

There’s certainly a set of people willing to spend $10,000 on a proposal. It’s likely there’s also a set of people who would propose with chain restaurant pizza. Still, it’s disheartening to think that the intersection of those two sets may not simply be zero. Thankfully, it’s simultaneously hilarious.

So what exactly does Pizza Hut’s package contain? Their PDF has the details:

Ruby Engagement Ring: A stunning ruby stone flanked by shimmering diamonds

There are no pictures, but it sounds nice enough, or at the very least, expensive enough.

Limo Service: Pick up your sweetheart in style before popping the question

Hey, who doesn’t love a limo ride, even one that stinks of fast food and fear?

Flowers: No proposal is complete without a spectacular bouquet of her favorite flowers

Flowers are a nice touch, but isn’t a proposal truly complete as soon as the question is popped? Are pizza chains allowed to speak metaphorically?

Fireworks: A perfectly-timed fireworks display will vault this proposal into the record books

Oh, I think this proposal will be in the record books even without the fireworks.

Photographer: Photos taken of the happy couple before, during and after the moment

The photographer will be instructed to put the camera in burst mode, so as to best capture before, during and after pictures of the exact instant when the poor girl realizes exactly what’s happening.

Videographer: Capturing video of the moment she says “yes”

They can probably save a few bucks by just not bothering to hire a videographer at all.

$10 Dinner Box: Hands-down the most vital, and appetizing, piece of the package

Hands-down the most edible piece of the package, anyway.

How did this idea come about? According to Pizza Hut CMO Kurt Kane, it’s not the result of a Trading Places-style bet between executives. Kane states:

“Our customers want the best of everything, from their food to memorable life experiences.”

So logically, since they’ve already given up when it comes to dinner, they’ll probably compromise on their marriage proposals too.

If I had a spare ten grand1 lying around, I’d be awfully tempted to go deeper down this preposterous rabbit hole. After all, the fine print states that if the package isn’t used by March 31st, Pizza Hut will refund the total cost. Unfortunately for anyone foolish enough to actually go through with this, no refunds apply to proposals where the intended looks around in stunned silence, blinks a few times while thinking about where it all went wrong in her life, then walks out, never to be heard from again. Which, let’s face, has about an 85% chance of happening.

Sadly, if you want to hedge your bets by proposing to multiple women, or even if you just live in Utah, Pizza Hut has a strict limit of 1 package per person. This offer is only available for purchase through today, so if you’re interested, act fast. After all, it’s just what every little girl dreams of, plus a side of breadsticks!

If she says yes, a Pizza Hut-themed wedding at Pizza Hut headquarters could be in order.

I can see the invitations now. “You are cordially invited to 7100 Corporate Drive in Plano, Texas…”.


  1. Actually, it’s $10,010. After finding someone who likes the shovelware they call food enough to give them ten thousand dollars to help with a marriage proposal, Pizza Hut can’t throw in the damned pizza for free? ↩︎

A Story in Four Pictures

Tuesday, January 24th, 2012

This is a can of shaving gel.
Shave Gel

It features a rust-proof bottom.
A Rust-Proof Bottom

It works pretty well.
It works pretty well

Oh sweet unholy Uranus, what in the hell is that?
What in the hell is that?!