Omnibus

In which a claymation terrorist with inexplicable bunny ears disrupts pizza, takes hostages, and wins America's heart. Certificate #29250

In which the Dutch battle their oldest enemy: the Waterwolf. Almost certainly the Omnibus's last entry (alphabetically). Certificate #31078.

In which we make plans for the longest-awaited death in human history, and wonder how many Welsh corgis it takes to pull a gun carriage. Certificate #34884.

In which John investigates whether or not segassem terces naitnoc sgnos kcor, and Ken wonders why Satan would own a toolshed. Certificate #30148.

In which we learn which Ice Age animal is named after the human nipple, and which modern animal fills John's soul with bloodlust. Certificate #47448.

In which a socialist preacher invents a tricky birth control technique he calls "male continence," leading directly to the lazy Susan and the assassination of an American president. Certificate #34322.

In which Ken blames a crucial bit of fascist iconography on the most successful magazine premium in American history, and John knows the lyrics to "Alaska's Flag" but refuses to sing it. Certificate #37863.

In which John strongly admonishes future listeners not to get sloppy with their headwear, if they have heads. Certificate #25200.

In which the gruesome deaths in early 1960s teen ballads are variously blamed on capitalism, Marlon Brando, chastity, and giant clams. Certificate #34312.

In which the human race barely survives the 20th century. (Well, not all of it, obviously. Picasso didn't, for example.) Certificate #27008

In which the bodies of ancient kings are ground up to fertilize lawns, power locomotives, and paint portraits. Certificate #37891

In which the world's worst chemist gives everyone lead poisoning, and then puts a hole in the ozone layer as an encore. Certificate #25185

In which twenty tourists a year have a psychological breakdown because the most magical city in the world is a little disappointing. Certificate #507

In which John introduces us to the world's last uncontacted tribe—but not literally, because that would be illegal. Certificate #13568

In which a Czech astronomer is hailed as the hero of 1973, only to have his discovery flame out by not flaming out. Then he gets very seasick on a cruise. Certificate #31644

In which John shares the soothing geographic mantra that has got him where he is today: sitting in a bunker teaching 30th-century cockroach-people how to tell medieval Central European principalities apart. Certificate #18088.

In which an upstart British television producer finally answers that age-old question: why don't more classic sitcoms star Adolf Hitler? Certificate #42615.