Spoiler Alert: This show is a horrifyingly awful piece of tele-garbage dragged from the pits of hell by Satan's most mentally challenged demon.
"Zoink'd" - so named because "Zoinked" was not considered "zany" enough by whatever network executive's nephew is writing and producing it - is so bad that I find myself having to watch it. Much like a terrifying, stomach-churning bus accident in which dozens of innocent children died, I can't stop myself from looking. The masochistic part of my brain takes over the moment I wake up that day and continues whispering "Zoink'd is on tonight... Zoink'd is on tonight... Zoink'd is on tonight" until I get home and somehow force myself to remove the revolver from my mouth and instead pick up the remote, sit on the couch and watch this putrid extravaganza of "zany", mouth agape with the occasional cry for help escaping, eyes wide open with the occasional tear escaping, and ears listening with the occasional stream of blood escaping.
Yes, this show is so grotesquely awful that my ears bleed with the effort of trying to process the shrill obnoxiousness pouring out of these child judge's hell-mouths and the unfunny "I'm so terrible I even hate myself won't someone please shoot me in the face when I leave the studio to walk to the bus stop oh why oh why has no one put me out of this walking misery already?" host, Adam Shootme.
The child judges on this show - who you may remember from their last role as the shrieking, maggot-like demon foetuses infesting the Ghost of Christmas Future's ribcage - are so awful that I purchased a shovel, even though I live in a fifth floor condominium, because I know if I ever happen to meet one of these unfortunate creatures I will need a tool with which to defend myself and it is my understanding that a nice heavy spade is an ideal weapon with which to remove a child of Hades' head for seven-days-of-salting then burning, which I have been assured is the only way to kill one. Also the shovel would come in handy afterwards when I need to bury the rest of the festering sewn-together goatskin "corpse" it was using as a human-child-disguise in a cursed Indian pet cemetery, as demanded in the Dead Sea Scrolls.
As for the host, I hope one day he finally tells a joke that is so bad it causes him to spontaneously combust, mouth first, leaving his eyes to burn last so that he can watch his spindly, meatless kindling legs go up like match sticks while the audience cheers, laughs and applauds his "zaniness".
The prize for the adults who go on this show and try to out-"zany" each other is $1000. I would like to offer $1005 to anyone who goes on this show and smashes every camera and microphone, every cable and piece of equipment they see, to prevent this mindless, humanity-hating genocide of entertainment from ever being broadcast again.
Did I mention how horrible the kids are? They aren't even cute. There, I said it. Untalented kids who are destined to become nothing.
Look at your host, kids. He is your future.
"Zoink'd" - so named because "Zoinked" was not considered "zany" enough by whatever network executive's nephew is writing and producing it - is so bad that I find myself having to watch it. Much like a terrifying, stomach-churning bus accident in which dozens of innocent children died, I can't stop myself from looking. The masochistic part of my brain takes over the moment I wake up that day and continues whispering "Zoink'd is on tonight... Zoink'd is on tonight... Zoink'd is on tonight" until I get home and somehow force myself to remove the revolver from my mouth and instead pick up the remote, sit on the couch and watch this putrid extravaganza of "zany", mouth agape with the occasional cry for help escaping, eyes wide open with the occasional tear escaping, and ears listening with the occasional stream of blood escaping.
Yes, this show is so grotesquely awful that my ears bleed with the effort of trying to process the shrill obnoxiousness pouring out of these child judge's hell-mouths and the unfunny "I'm so terrible I even hate myself won't someone please shoot me in the face when I leave the studio to walk to the bus stop oh why oh why has no one put me out of this walking misery already?" host, Adam Shootme.
The child judges on this show - who you may remember from their last role as the shrieking, maggot-like demon foetuses infesting the Ghost of Christmas Future's ribcage - are so awful that I purchased a shovel, even though I live in a fifth floor condominium, because I know if I ever happen to meet one of these unfortunate creatures I will need a tool with which to defend myself and it is my understanding that a nice heavy spade is an ideal weapon with which to remove a child of Hades' head for seven-days-of-salting then burning, which I have been assured is the only way to kill one. Also the shovel would come in handy afterwards when I need to bury the rest of the festering sewn-together goatskin "corpse" it was using as a human-child-disguise in a cursed Indian pet cemetery, as demanded in the Dead Sea Scrolls.
As for the host, I hope one day he finally tells a joke that is so bad it causes him to spontaneously combust, mouth first, leaving his eyes to burn last so that he can watch his spindly, meatless kindling legs go up like match sticks while the audience cheers, laughs and applauds his "zaniness".
The prize for the adults who go on this show and try to out-"zany" each other is $1000. I would like to offer $1005 to anyone who goes on this show and smashes every camera and microphone, every cable and piece of equipment they see, to prevent this mindless, humanity-hating genocide of entertainment from ever being broadcast again.
Did I mention how horrible the kids are? They aren't even cute. There, I said it. Untalented kids who are destined to become nothing.
Look at your host, kids. He is your future.