(light waltz)
- So glad autumn is here!
- I know.
There's just something about autumn
that resonates with me as a person.
- Right, you like it.
But for me, it's something more!
- Not more than me.
See, I embrace the feeling of a frosty morning chill
fading in the afternoon sun!
- Right, a comfortable temperature.
But, see, I love the fall because
I love the sound of dry leaves crackling underfoot!
- Oh, a universally beloved sound?
Great.
I love fall because of the hum of excitement
of a new school year!
- Oh, the thing children are required
by law to do?
How special.
See, I love autumn in a deeper way,
because I love the creamy, zesty taste
of pumpkin spice!
- Oh, you mean Starbucks' most popular flavor?
How unique.
But for me-- - For you?
- For me-- - For you?
- For me--
- For you?
- I love the color bursting forth
from every tree!
- Oh, you mean thing that powers
all of New England tourism?
That's what you love?
See, I'm a brooding mystery,
because I love the macabre darkness of Halloween!
- Oh, you mean the closest thing
modern Americans have to a bacchanalian orgy of delight?
I've claimed ownership over the season,
and no one else can love it more than I can!
- I can! I love the way the world looks
when it's dappled in golden light!
- I love the sound of rain tapping against the window!
- I could smell cinnamon every day for the rest of my life!
- Apples! Apple cider!
Apple sauce! Apple rides!
- An old man wearing a plaid shirt,
sitting on a bench--
- Dropping them into chocolate --
- Sitting on on the carpet watching the home team--
- Going back to school and having a crush on Mrs. Louise--
- Tossing the old pig skin around--
- Great piles of --
- Gourds!
- Crisp!
- Russet!
- Dew dappled!
- Augh! I am made of pumpkin!
Augh!
- I am a scarecrow!
Augh!
- I love fall!
(music crescendos)
(orgy of pained, ecstatic screaming)
- Ugh. These assholes are the worst part of fall.
- Seriously.
- Hi, it's Mike Trapp from College Humor.
If you want to subscribe, click here.
If you want to watch more of these,
click here.
And if you want to investiage
the spooky old McReary house,
even though your mom warned you not to,
turn to page 87.