We open on what might be a radio answering machine and Hat Guy is mid-panic, convinced he’s being hunted by dinosaurs (real? metaphorical? unclear), and then the message cuts off like someone pulled the plug.

The tape picks up later with our weary interviewer attempting a Bootstuck-style lightning round, which is to say: rapid-fire nonsense in hopes of coaxing coherence out of chaos. Spoiler: it doesn’t work. We do, however, learn that Bootstuckians classify champagne as a fruit. There is no follow-up.

As the conversation pivots to hot potatoes (literal, not political), Hat Guy hurls a sheep down a flight of stairs. This is treated as routine. Then we discuss housing: Bootstuck architecture includes popsicle-stick mansions, maybe a couch fort or two, and a surprising lack of zoning laws. Eventually, the interviewer gives up—again—leaving Hat Guy to blow up his stove.

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