This Halloween, Ben and Zane and their friend Dan went trick-or-treating down by the landfill owned by old man Csupo. While discussing the true nature of horror, they saw a red rabbit and chased it down a hole, where they were captured by all kinds of terrifying creatures. A horrible green monster with tasteful high heels strapped them into a machine that would reveal their creepiest thoughts, but it just kept showing reruns of Invader Zim.

Ben and Zane were minding their own business, narrating events as they unfolded, when fabulous powers were revealed to them. By raising their microphones and saying the magic words, "I have the podcast!" they were transformed into the Cartonists, masters of their own domain name. When they asked He-Man for advice on how to use their power for good, he just smiled slightly to the left of them and said, "It looks like you guys could use some powerful words of encouragement." Eeurghh.

While looking for their lost egg Steve, Ben and Zane met the king and queen of Urgerderger [sic]. They had many stories to tell, but while the Cartonists wanted to hear more about the kingdom and its unusual inhabitants, all they wanted to talk about was their boring kids. Listen as Ben and Zane try to teach this husband-and-wife team that being evil is not a choice, though being silly certainly is.

The Cartonists have been downtrodden by the opulent overclass before, but it won't stop them from telling their message. This week, Ben and Zane tell the story of a city gone soft from its own success on the backs of the people who made it great. With the growing ranks of human-like androids, it's getting harder to tell the distinction between what's real and what's simply a stage production. Perhaps, with the help of some well-meaning negotiators, we can - BIG O! ACTION!

As stated heretofore, the party of the first part (hereafter referred to as "The Cartoncast"), having affixed signatures on an affidavit requesting that the party of the second part (hereafter referred to as "Hanna-Barbera") provide proper recompense in regards to their stonewalling of prearranged interviews, per se, of copyrighted characters hitherto in absentia, have procured the services of the Sebben & Sebben Law Firm to issue this subpoena to provide grounds of the offense, to wit: cancellation and repurposing of 37 distinct animated series including the party of the third part (hereafter referred to as "Myron Reducto ad Absurdum"), in witness whereof was a bear.

Hey everyone, thanks for coming out tonight. Now, lemme tell ya about this podcast I heard about. These two guys, Ben and Zane, they're always linking everything back to cartoons they watched. Sometimes they'd say to me, "Louie Anderson, we're your biggest fans. You know, if you had a cartoon, you'd be famous." And I'd think to myself... did I hear that right? You know, maybe they should make a cartoon about themselves, with each of them being voiced by the other guy. Brings a whole new meaning to the phrase 'talking to yourself', huh huh huh.

While Ben and Zane were trying to figure out what cartoon to investigate next, an ancient religious tome appeared on their doorstep. Expressions awed, they quickly translated the texts and skrawlings, only to discover the means to opening a portal to a semi-divine plane of existence. Listen to their recordings as they relate here, for the first time, the transcendental secrets of the 'Chalk Zone'. Will they achieve true enlightenment by experiencing such divine beings first-hand, or will they lose their sanity to the non-euclidean nightmare that is the maddened ravings of a ten-year-old?

On a visit to the insane asylum to visit Agent J, Ben and Zane saw one of their old childhood friends, Doug, in a padded cell. He hadn't aged well. When the Cartoncasters tried to approach him, he started panicking and talking about how nervous he was to some imaginary person named "Skeet." Thankfully, they found him too boring and wandered off, scatting the whole way.

This week, Ben and Zane were forced to go off their schedule when they were hijacked into the past by time lightning. Merlin told they they'd need to find the twelve keys of truth to get back to their own time, and would have the help of the knights of the round table. The Cartonists were skeptical, but luckily the knights accepted the ridiculousness of the premise immediately and without question.

It was early evening, and the cigar smoke slowly dispersed through my office when they walked in. Those two primates, they walked into my office, shoulders squared, a purpose in their eyes. "Ben and Zane", they said, "and we're here to ask you some questions." This duck's no snitch, but sometimes the only way to untangle a web of lies is to let the authorities ask some questions. I gulped back a slug of Golden Goose, shivering as it burned down my throat. Golden Goose always ruffles a few feathers, but there are some stories that can only be told with a partner, and she's the most reliable friend I've ever had. I put my feet up on the desk and leaned back in my chair. "Okay, boys," I said. "Where should I start?"

Long ago, in a distant land, a foolish Samurai warrior was banished to the future, wherein he encountered Ben and Zane and told them his story. During a journey through various environments with accompanying travel music, the samurai told them of the ancient evil Aku. He was somewhat perterbed when Ben and Zane both agreed that Aku sounded pretty great.

Ben and Zane knew that taking care of a hamster would be a big responsibility, but they couldn't have foreseen just how suicidal the hamster would be. Although they initially wrote Hamtaro off as an inept (though well-meaning) show, they soon realized that the goofy actions belied a savage intelligence, hellbent on working with the hamster underground to overthrow the shackles of humankind. Their revolution failed, but I bet the next revolution will be even better.

When Ben and Zane ran away from a top secret government organization threatening to use their podcast for a podcast-powered ray gun, they never thought they'd end up in the big city. Thankfully, the natives are friendly, if difficult to understand. Amidst the baa-ing and the really forced puns, Ben and Zane catalog the story of a lone sheep who'd gotten badly fleeced.

In their mission to uncover the truth behind cartoons, Ben and Zane find themselves in an opulent mansion, home to one Bruce "Solomon Grundy" Wayne, an elderly gentleman with a suspiciously large collection of bat-themed equipment in his basement. What follows is a incisive and considered interview with Wayne in which we discuss the notions of duty, sacrifice, and the weakness of attachment. Oh, and there's this kid named Terry there too, I guess.

Timmy was a pretty sad kid. Eventually the turmoil of his childhood and the dismal ennui of the 21st century eroded his sanity, and he began to hallucinate vividly about kids with wings who could grant wishes. Ben and Zane were asked to commit his ravings to audio log during Timmy's decent into madness, but they didn't expect he'd spend so much time talking about his teeth.

Agent B and Agent Z have been taken off the front lines of fighting alien crime in order to investigate some of Agent J and K's case files. Normally these documents would be classified to the public, but just this once, you're welcome to listen in on some top secret MIB information - if Agents B and Z can stop talking about the intro.

This week in the 'cast, Ben and Zane broach the topic of Time Squad by heaping praise onto everyman hero, officer Buck Tuddrussel. Buck Tuddrussel didn't sign up for no snooty robot or some know-it-all brat getting in the way of his law enforcement methods. He just wanted to do what he was born to do - punch Mozart in the face for getting uppity with history. And who among us wouldn't be right there beside him, holding the great composer's legs?

Join Ben and Zane in the maiden voyage of The Cartoncast! This week, we investigate the torment that is the life of one sad Hawaiian. In doing so, we are forced to ask ourselves some difficult philosophical questions, such as 'How gnarly can one be before he inevitably becomes bogus', and 'Can good truly exist in the presence of so much sick beef'?