William Hughes (The A.V. Club) and Gary Butterfield (Watch Out for Fireballs!) get together four times a week to talk through every single item, trinket, boss, monster, and, really, everything in Edmund McMillen's "The Binding Of Isaac". New, bite-sized episodes come out every Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday.
June 14th, 2020 | 21 mins 33 secs
Which meant that either one of his superiors had royally scrammed up (a proposition that sent his Ambition Bladders quivering with fear and glee), or one of the worlds under the Federation's quasi-benevolent hegemony was in danger of undergoing full planetary apoptosis.
June 13th, 2020 | 15 mins 21 secs
Despite his long (and proudly obstructionate) role in the Federation Civil Service, Chil'trox had never actually seen a Terminal-rated request come through the space-pneumatic propulsion systems of the hyper-tubes.
June 11th, 2020 | 13 mins 40 secs
He glanced peevishly at the Federation Assistance Request—Terminal as it gently buzzed on his desk, demanding an official response from his bureaucratic girth.
June 9th, 2020 | 11 mins 46 secs
Chil'trox of Pliny, High Arbiter of the North-Inward Galactic Hextant, wasn't sure how much longer he could sit on this F.A.R.T.
June 7th, 2020 | 18 mins 10 secs
The gates of Heck were now 6 inches dilated, and growing by the minute; the Fel Barons laughed inside their comfortable cages; the great Goat of the Umpocalypse let out its warning bleat; and what rough beast, its hour come round at last, was now slouching toward Hoopty Hut to be born?
END OF CHAPTER ONE
June 6th, 2020 | 15 mins 27 secs
And as the three Doomed Souls stood their, locked in a state of uneasy truce before the gates of the great and sinister Hoos, the sky above them roiled and squeezed.
June 4th, 2020 | 11 mins 27 secs
"My name is Harvey Mouse," his squeaking voice said, breaking the silence, "And if I'm going to stop the Umpocalypse, I'm going to need your help."
June 2nd, 2020 | 9 mins 37 secs
As his blade flew, magically, back into his hand, the mouse landed in a motion that became a simple bow, aimed at the both of them.
May 31st, 2020 | 20 mins 14 secs
With an adorable "Hyah!" he hurled a sword the size of a toothpick past the hunter's head; the vortighast that had been creeping up behind him, hungry to suckle on his miserymarrow, screamed as its holy magics rent it into ugly dust.
May 30th, 2020 | 12 mins 30 secs
Even the Secret Midwife couldn't completely hide her awe as a small warrior, clad in fur, goggles, and a functional but tiny leather jacket, kicked off of the seat of his motorcycle, flipping into the air even as the bike itself skidded to a perfect stop on the ground.
May 28th, 2020 | 12 mins 38 secs
From the corner of his eye, he saw the Secret Midwife perform a few rote identity bindings with her placental-stained fingers, masking the darker aspects of her aura even as a sudden ting from a nearby gutter announced the launching of a tiny rodent missile directly into their midst.
May 26th, 2020 | 12 mins 25 secs
The hunter was just about to shatter the groaning silence when he was beaten to the beating by a tiny, whining sound, as though a small but heroic mouse was suddenly driving toward him on a very small motorcycle, or some other simile of similar force.
May 24th, 2020 | 19 mins 41 secs
Their two orders had long had a professional understanding between them; hunters needed monsters to be birthed, and Midwives needed them to be slain, maintaining the whims of the dark deity Supplyanddemond.
May 23rd, 2020 | 13 mins 5 secs
As she scraped the more scrapable of the mucouses from her garment, the two stood before the long road winding its way up to the hainted manor, both harboring suspicions as to why the other might be there.
May 21st, 2020 | 13 mins 58 secs
He turned, though, in sudden shock, as a wo-manhole near him suddenly shifted; he watched and stood mute, with a mixture of horror and professional courtesy, as a Secret Midwife, resplendent in battle robes and humongous with slimes, dragged herself out of the darkness below.
May 19th, 2020 | 15 mins 3 secs
Bloodied and weary—despite the night still being in its grim and collicky infancy—the hunter nevertheless felt his soul lighten ever so slightly as he trudged up the street and came, at last, to the elaborate and foreboding gate of Harkhark Hoose.