192 - Query more!

CAD: OK, Alan, I'm gonna run a few more things past you. Let me know the odds, would ya?

ALAN: I can do that.

MP: Are you both quite serious? It's not like I have all day here!

ALAN: It appears that you were recently playing a board game. Was that an efficient use of time?

MP: There were extenuating circumstances!

CAD: Alan! What if I throw my hanky and it summons a bull? The bull would attack him because he's red, right?

MP: Racist.

ALAN: That's not how hankerchiefs work, Cad. Or bulls. Bulls are colorblind, like most mammals.

CAD: So why do they attack those bull fighter guys with the red capes?

ALAN: They're attracted to the motion of the "muleta," not its color. I think I've told you this before.

ZT: brains?

CAD: Whatever. Odds on punching him in the face and solving everything?

ALAN: One in 5000.

CAD: Odds of Paddington Hippo and sick red guy magically getting better without the potion and all of us becoming friends?

ALAN: One in 47,400.

ZT: brains.

CAD: Odds of the Barbershop Dishware learning the true meaning of love and eviscerating the guy on the table while singing "Welcome to the Jungle?"

ALAN: One in 548,200.

MP: One in 548,215!

ALAN: Hum. Yes, I can accept those numbers.

CAD: OK. Geez. Um. Odds of... me casting a time stop, switching the icecream cone and the gun, administering the antidote to Paddington through the vevuzela and stabbing one-eye-lens guy with the singing carving knife?

ALAN: One in 999,999.

CAD: ...all while on one leg?

ALAN: ...one million to one against.

ZT: brains! 

CAD: I like those odds!

>DO EEEET!