E3 Podcast Sound Quality

Messrs. Grant, Kietzmann, McElroy and Miller:

This Friday Past I received a wax cylinder in the post containing your
latest missives from the Exposition of Mechanical Entertainments.
Intrigued, I mounted the cylinder into my phonograph and commenced to
tossing the medicine ball about as is my habit. No sooner had I
hoisted the ball aloft when my ears were assaulted by a cacophony such
that I was sure that the local milliner had pierced his hand with a
hat-pin. I'm not sure what broadsheet you rapscallions write for but
I do expect a modicum of quality in any reportage to which I am
subjected. This bit of fishwife's offal was hardly worth the tin of
mustache wax into which I disposed of its charred remains. Good day
to you sirs, and good riddance!

The Potato Chip Cartel

Several days ago, I was witness to the whole lot of you laughing like a bunch of mincing schoolgirls at the thought of a 'potato-chip cartel'. Let me assure you, boys, that such an organization is all too real. Several years ago, I invented with the assistance of my son and business partner, H.W., a chip fashioned from slurry that bore a lightness and crunch superior to that produced by the potato barons. No sooner had we gone to market than these tyrants sent their jackbooted thugs over to crush the whole lot. I responded with fisticuffs in kind and sent these whelps packing back to their masters. Let me tell you something you children, you bunch of half-wits, if you have a vat of potato slurry and I have a vat of potato slurry, and I have a straw that reaches aaaaaalll the way to Joystiq H.Q., I drink your potato slurry! I DRINK IT UP!!!

Polka Says Hello to Ludwig!

Why, hello, Ludwig! Do you recognize me? Silly! It's Polka, from Eternal Sonata! No doubt you'd recognize me if I had my frilly parasol, which I can use to create an 'Orange Glow' that restores hit points to other members of my party! Did you know that the battle is not really over when you see me do my 'level up' flourish on the screen? No, there is lots of work to do to clean up the battlefield. Often the bone saw becomes dull before I've even finished dismembering the first corpse. Good thing you've supplied me with plenty of Peach Cookies to keep me strong! Sometimes the enemies are not completely dead and they begin to shriek and moan before their cries become a sickly gurgle when the blade severs their vocal cords. Soon the head thumps to the ground and their eyes stare blankly at the sky as if to question why an uncaring God has forsaken them. If you have any questions, be sure to consult the in-game help! Have fun inside the magical world of Frederic Chopin's mind!

Love, Polka

Sporn

Like so many others I never thought this would happen to me, but here I am scrawling it in pictograms on the cave wall. I was lurching about on my flippers near the tidepool 3 suns ago when I nearly tripped over a female Glorzax napping in the sand. I couldn't help but notice that her ovipositor was completely unshrouded, glistening with water droplets from a recent swim. Before I could even turn away, one of her eyestalks opened and a petite claw began stroking my flagella! "Like what you see, cowboy?" she cooed while reaching a tendril around to manipulate my occipital orifice. I dove in and we went at it for what seemed like millenia. To put it bluntly, I florbed the snozzix out of her. We met again the next day for another round -- she brought a friend, and let's just say there was more than enough primordial ooze to go around.

Chronicles of the Junk Food Moguls, Vol.2: Phineas O'Meal tells the Blueberry Muffin Tops Origin Story

Hello boys, this is Phineas O'Meal, president & CEO of the Malt 'O Meal corporation. I wanted to write & let you know how pleased I was to hear you praising my 'Blueberry Muffin Tops' cereal. I apologize for not writing sooner but I've been confined to an iron lung for the past 7 years and have to write by tapping out each letter with a stylus attached to my forehead.

The Muffin Tops cereal didn't come about through some fancypants focus group research; in fact, I conceived of it as a young boy. You see, the 'O Meal family was very poor seein' as how Daddy was in an avant-garde mime troupe and Mummenschanz didn't play too well in western Wyoming in the 1940's. My dear mother had to make every penny stretch and so she filled the muffin tins with clay from the floor of our simple cabin and poured what little batter she could scratch together over the top.

People ask me why all my cereals are placed at the bottom of the grocery aisle - simply put, I have to be wheeled through the store in this metal contraption and my range of vision is limited. I'll be damned if I'm going to only eat bulk rice or the Campbell's soups that happen to fall near the end of the alphabet.

Well, I've babbled on enough. You boys keep up the good work and enjoy the cereal. And remember that my dear mother's love is in every bite, God rest her soul.