Tourette’s Week

PAT:

Welcome back. And if you’re just joining us, we’re still on our very first puzzle of Tourette’s Week. I kid you not. All the consonants and vowels have been in place since Monday, and it’s—well, I wanted to say it’s just a matter of reading what’s up there, but just just doesn’t seem to be the case.

VANNA:
Amen to that! Hah!

JOAN:
Whore! Whore! Whore! Whore! SLUT!

PAT:

Heh-heh. There we go again, heh-heh. We can’t seem to get past—what’s it called again, Charlie?

CHARLIE:
It’s called cop-ruh-LAAAAAY-lee-uh, Pat. Coprolalia!

PAT:

By Jove! I think he’s got it. Coprolalia. Good ol’ coprolalia. Okay. So, how’s about it, Justin? We’re around to you again. Think you can just read what’s up there this time? Remember, just read what’s up there.

VANNA:
Please! For the love of almighty God!

JUSTIN:
Okay. Here goes, Pat. All’s ... well ... that ... FUCK ... ends ... well. Shit!

PAT:

Uh ... gee whiz. No, Justin, that’s not quite right once again. Joan? How about it? Feelin’ lucky? Can you just read what’s up there this time? You’ve got a cool eight grand and a fabulous weekend getaway in the Pocono Mountains riding on, as I’ve said so many times, just reading what’s up there. That’s all there is to it, seriously, in all seriousness, that’s all it’s gonna take to win here.

JOAN:
Penis! Fart! Ballsack! Melons!

VANNA:
You BITCH!

PAT:

Easy, Vanna. Heh-heh. Who’da thunk coprolalia could be contagious? And speaking of ‘thunk’—who in the name of all things holy thunk up this theme week? Was it you, Charlie?

CHARLIE:
Not me, Pat! Not in a miiiillll-yun years.

PAT:

Well, a venti raspberry mocha with a double-pump of strychnine for whoever did. All right. Let’s take a slightly different tack with Sheila. Sheila, it’s down to you—for what? your twentieth try?—and this time I just want you to repeat after me. Just say each word right after I say it, okay? And don’t say anything else. I repeat: Do not say anything else. Got it? Think you can do that? Heh-heh.

SHEILA:
Yes, Pat, I’m ... ASSWIPE ... pretty sure I ca ... PRICK!

JUSTIN:
Scrotum!

JOAN:
Ballsack! Penis! Fart!

VANNA:
Jesus!

CHARLIE:

Will everybody puuuuuh-LEEZ shut the fuck up! All yours, Pat.

PAT:

Aaannnd thank you, Charlie! Very much. Now, Sheila. Sheila! Over here. Look right here—at me. That’s it. Ready? Okay, say all’s. ...

SHEILA:
All’s ...

PAT:
well ...

SHEILA:
well ...

PAT:
that ...

SHEILA:
that ...

PAT:
ends ...

SHEILA:
ends ...

PAT:
... well.

SHEILA:
... well. BASTARD!

VANNA:
You fucking WHORE!

PAT:

She wins, Charlie, right? She said the whole thing, right? Bastard doesn’t count, right? For the love of Christ—somebody tell me BASTARD doesn’t count!

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