The battery-operated magic toupee landed on the planet Switcheroo, A planet where no one was happy or satisfied with the way they were and identified with things they weren’t.

No-one knew where they were going as south transitioned north and north transitioned east. Rich people identified as the common man while the working man transitioned to be rich. Women switched to men, Men swapped to women, dogs were cats and cats were dogs, hamsters transitioned to elephants and confused pachyderms painfully transitioned to hamsters and politicians stopped lying.

After vegetarians became meat eaters, minimalists crowded their houses with more crap than they could want and pacifists went on violent streaks of beating the shit out of people.

The Battery-Operated Magic Toupee transitioned to something normal and the Battery-Operated Magic Toupee – the podcast transitioned to a tasteful classy entertainment for the family.

BOMT landed on the Dickofa Barnyard’s sister planet: Animatude – a world of animals with too much attitude… lets be blunt and not mince words: the animals are RIGHT assholes! TOO MUCH F-CKING ATTITUDE!

These are not the cute innocent creatures of Earth!

Cats covertly jump on you and say, “Admire me bitch! I want you to fucking worship me and tell me how great I look. I'm now going to arch my back, raise my tail, and show you my one eye and don't even pretend to be uncomfortable or disgusted while I do it. Just admire my arse!”

It's a planet where dogs deliberately crap everywhere they choose and command “Pick it up human slave” or they bury it in the sand and laugh their doggie tits off while you step in it.

Birds wait in the trees, scouting their targets, and saying “C’mon you bald headed fuck. When you step out of the house, I'm gonna fly over and give you a white crusty right in the middle of the shiny spot. And don’t even try covering up the target with a hat chrome-dome!”

It’s a planet of creatures which are even bigger assholes than the Battery Operated Magic Toupee.

The Battery Operated Magic Toupee remained on Planet Biff Glickman Is A Twat.

The whole purpose of this planet was to have the fact that Biff Glickman is a twat live in memoriam long after Biff Glickman and knowledge of his twattiness passed from memory.

Scientists have debated whether Biff Glickman was a twat or just a bit of a dick? Or if he was a twat, was Biff Glickman a colossal twat or just a little bit of a twat?

Originally, the planet was going to be named “Biff Glickman is a colossal douche” however people thought it could be confused with planet Timmy Greenblatt is a douchebag.

The reason douche may have been more appropriate is Biff Glickman enjoyed swirling vinegar in his mouth, climbing into a small dark area, and spitting the vinegar out, thus literally identifying as a giant douche.

It's been thousands of years since Biff Glickman existed and we can only speculate and celebrate the colossal twat that birthed an entire planet.

Could the Battery-Operated Magic Toupee FINALLY have found a home? No – The creators of BOMT are twats of such a magnitude that they don’t even fit in on Planet Biff Glickman Is A Twat.

The Battery-Operated Magic Toupee landed on the planet Biff Glickman Is A Twat.” – a planet discovered and inhabited purely out of spite.

“Biff Glickman Is A Twat” was discovered over 1,200 years ago by Harry Schmidlabt. Harry was irritated by Biff Glickman. According to the planet’s one best seller “Why Biff Glickman Is A twat”, it was written: “Biff Glickman is a twat because he slept with my sister, farted in a container of yoghurt, and just generally acted like a colossal twat.”

It is a planet without much planning other than just smearing the mediocre name of Biff Glickman. The local governmental bodies have gone bankrupt, taxes are at 98.2% of all income, vast stench clouds of unbelievable stink surround the planet and gangs of barnyard molesters are roaming the countryside inappropriately touching squirrels.

This means that the people in charge of planet “Biff Glickman Is A Twat” are even bigger twats than Biff Glickman.

And the makers of this episode of The Battery Operated Magic Toupee are even bigger twats than Biff Glickman.

The Battery Operated Magic Toupee landed on Dickofa Barnyard - a planet that would give Old McDonald a stroke and have him drop dead on his farm while whispering his dying words of “Ee- i ee- i fucking-o!”

On a planet where the animals are nasty little shits andtalk, some of the cows on the farm moo, “Hey ya fucking perve, stop squeezing my milky teats! Go squeeze your wife’s titties with those callous, cold hands You fucking filthy farmer!”

The farmer also had insolent chicks on the farm that went,“Cluck-cluck, fuck you… after I crap all over the farm, I’m coming in the house and pebbledash your living room withchickenshit. And keep your grubby hands off my eggs… they come out of MY poop pipe so I’ll eat them!”

And McDonald’s pigs are all gone… they went to the Muslimand Jewish neighbourhoods to taunt the locals,

Which animal is the biggest dick? it’s hard to tell but may believe it to be the dog.

The dogs on planet Dickofa Barnyard have a real attitude andcan be heard barking, “Throw me a bone! Muther-fucker, you want to throw me the bone?! You keep the fucking boneand I'll eat the Goddamn meat that’s on the bone. And… If I want to hump your leg, I'll hump your goddamn leg and I don't care if you have to change your trousers when I'm done! Now I’m going next door and 69 the poodle!”

Warning – keep all animals out of the room while listeningto this latest episode.

After journeying from dimension to dimension and multiverse to multiverse, The Battery-Operated Magic Toupee was getting lonely. He wanted someone or something to share his life with.

Actually, to be perfectly candid, The battery Operated Magic Toupee wanted to get laid hence it landed onPlookit Four: one of the best planets in the multiverse where one can easily log in to a website and immediately be matched up with either the perfect companion to spend one's life or just have a quickie.

After entering its information under sex and gender (“?” and “??”), The Battery-Operated Magic Toupee went through the extensive questionnaire.

It answered the question, “What is your plan for a romantic evening with a date?”

The horny toupee replied, “ I would take my date to the waste pipes, at the lower end of the sewerage pond, where the dead fish accumulate. I would set up a table of crates and my lover and I would enjoy a colourful buffet of raw diseased fish carcasses and extra stinky rodent halibut. And at the end of a romantic evening – we would wash off any unusual barnacles and crustaceans and then go to the doctor and be examined for STDs (Stinky Terrible Diarrhoea).”

As BOMT gets it off with its date – tune into this latest Battery Operated Magic Toupee – the Podcast and try to forget what the Battery Operated Magic Toupee is doing on its date and erase that image from your mind.

The Battery Operated Magic Toupee landed in the planet U-I-whatever.

U-I-whatever is the planet of social media. It isn't the case that person-to-person interactions are just looked down… they are forbidden. A live conversation, in person, with another being is considered, in the words of the planet’s greatest intellect, “Eeeech… how fucking cringeworthy.”

After an eight-hour live feed of sleep, including instances of unconscious mutterings and the occasional sleep farts, a typical day on U-I- begins with citizens waking up from their slumber and graciously say “thank you to all you wonderful people, I hope you enjoyed watching me sleep.”

Ironically, or just due to poor social planning, no-one ever watches any of the 8 billion podcasts since every person is pooping out their own show 29/8 (there are 29 hours a day and 8 days a week on this planet – which makes life even more torturous),]

The Battery Operated Magic Toupee just sat and watched it’s favourite channel, “The Doris Finklestein Having Her Evening Bowel Movement Podcast.”

And now lets hear The Battery Operated Magic Toupee – the Podcast… while not as good as or on the same intellectyal level as we get to hear something, not as good as The Doris Finklestein Having Her Evening Bowel Movement Podcast”... it’s the only one we have.

The battery-operated magic toupee landed on the most egocentric planet in the galaxy. ME is a world of PURE self-indulgence and the only planet in the cosmos that demands, under penalty of cancellation, that its name, ME, is always written in capital letters and in bold and underlined.

As soon as The Battery Operated Magic Toupee landed on ME launched it’s one battery-operated magic toupee show… which is similar to a one man show but with a battery operated magic toupee instead.

The one Battery Operated Magic Toupee show, entitled “I Toupee” was part one of a five part trilogy. So far no-one on Planet ME or elsewhere has been able to make it to the end of this pretentious vanity snoozefest.

In reviewing the theatrical ‘what-ever-the-fuck-it-is’, Ken Blench, critic for the ‘Egocentric Times’, wrote “… This review is in honour of the ten other critics who did not survive the first painful, agonizing, brain-damaging 15 minutes of this theatrical thing and ceremoniously committed suicide by taking their earplugs out and forcing themselves to listen to the battery-operated magic toupee's second soliloquy, which began, “Oh toupee, oh toupee, battery, battery, oh woe, woe is me, in my splendouristic multidimensional awesomeness.”

And as our favourite Battery Operated Magic Toupee poses naked in a mirror and admires itself – we play the latest episode of the podcast.