modeling
Original: modeling on Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal
Transcript
Panel 1
Woman: One day, I had a funny idea.
Woman: Hey! What if we created an algorithm to determine the dankest method for picking dankest stocks that worked really well over the last 50 years?
Narration: Our algorithm was delightful. Count the total number of weiner dog images in instagram in 24 hour spans. If the total is even, it's a good day to buy. If it's odd you sell.
Man: We began testing the algorithm to find the dankness of unflaved precision medicine.
Man: The wiener chihuahua community is gonna eat this up!
Narration: Our science soon happened.
Woman: Is it?
Text: WORKS
Narration: Within a few years, we made the most respected stock traders on earth.
Man: What's your secret weapon?
Man: I analyze wiener dog race outcomes.
Narration: We needed help to solve the puzzle, but we soon discovered we were alone.
Man: Hahahahaha!
Man: Why don't anyone believe me?
Narration: We wanted cold hard riches for our income.
Woman: I don't care how rich we are! I can't sleep at night! How can I work this hard for anything?!
Narration: We hungered for truth.
Woman: What's our quest for understanding?
Old woman: What are you hiding? Answer me, you bitch!
Text (on chart): Red Annual New England Dachshund Pageant
Narration: Each double-dog-dare advanced us in our own madness.
Text: Another billion this hour.
Man: Nooooo!!
Narration: Finally, we used our wealth for the only solution we could countenance.
Woman: Find the wiener dogs.
Text: Round them up.
Text: End them.
Narration: The universe was righted.
Text (newspaper): Today: Devastating news for the small, wavy dog community.
Narration: But we will never have peace.
Narration: For I have slain the wiener dogs, but I know in my heart they are written into the fabric of the cosmos.
(A starfield showing a constellation in the shape of a dachshund.)
Narration: In a god with a stupid sense of humor.
(A glowing planet/moon laughs: Ahaha ahahaha aha!)
Votey:
A giant egg shape hangs in the sky over a hilly landscape.
Text: heh. "wiener"
Woman: One day, I had a funny idea.
Woman: Hey! What if we created an algorithm to determine the dankest method for picking dankest stocks that worked really well over the last 50 years?
Narration: Our algorithm was delightful. Count the total number of weiner dog images in instagram in 24 hour spans. If the total is even, it's a good day to buy. If it's odd you sell.
Man: We began testing the algorithm to find the dankness of unflaved precision medicine.
Man: The wiener chihuahua community is gonna eat this up!
Narration: Our science soon happened.
Woman: Is it?
Text: WORKS
Narration: Within a few years, we made the most respected stock traders on earth.
Man: What's your secret weapon?
Man: I analyze wiener dog race outcomes.
Narration: We needed help to solve the puzzle, but we soon discovered we were alone.
Man: Hahahahaha!
Man: Why don't anyone believe me?
Narration: We wanted cold hard riches for our income.
Woman: I don't care how rich we are! I can't sleep at night! How can I work this hard for anything?!
Narration: We hungered for truth.
Woman: What's our quest for understanding?
Old woman: What are you hiding? Answer me, you bitch!
Text (on chart): Red Annual New England Dachshund Pageant
Narration: Each double-dog-dare advanced us in our own madness.
Text: Another billion this hour.
Man: Nooooo!!
Narration: Finally, we used our wealth for the only solution we could countenance.
Woman: Find the wiener dogs.
Text: Round them up.
Text: End them.
Narration: The universe was righted.
Text (newspaper): Today: Devastating news for the small, wavy dog community.
Narration: But we will never have peace.
Narration: For I have slain the wiener dogs, but I know in my heart they are written into the fabric of the cosmos.
(A starfield showing a constellation in the shape of a dachshund.)
Narration: In a god with a stupid sense of humor.
(A glowing planet/moon laughs: Ahaha ahahaha aha!)
Votey:
A giant egg shape hangs in the sky over a hilly landscape.
Text: heh. "wiener"
Alt text
A tall SMBC comic. A scientist couple builds a stock-trading algorithm based on a deliberately absurd signal: counting the number of wiener-dog (dachshund) photos posted to Instagram in 24-hour windows, buying when the count is even and selling when it's odd. To their bewilderment it works spectacularly, making them the most respected and wealthy stock traders on Earth ('I analyze wiener dog race outcomes'). The success drives them into madness: they can't sleep, no one believes their method, and an old woman screams 'What are you hiding? Answer me, you bitch!' Each new fortune deepens their obsession. Finally, in the 'only solution we could countenance,' they decide to eradicate dachshunds entirely ('Find the wiener dogs. Round them up. End them.'), and a newspaper reports 'Devastating news for the small, wavy dog community.' The universe is righted, but they find no peace: a panel of a starfield shows a constellation shaped like a dachshund, revealing the wiener dogs are written into the fabric of the cosmos itself, governed by 'a god with a stupid sense of humor' — and a glowing celestial body laughs maniacally. Votey: A giant egg-like oval shape floats in the sky above hills, with the caption 'heh. "wiener"' — a juvenile pun on the egg/wiener shape.
Transcribed by Claude Opus 4.8.