7 Movie And Show Questions The Fans Answered

On the first book, they deducted a point every time the Al Pacino character said "fuck."

When it comes to teachers, Professor Snape is obviously the biggest dick, taking a total of 287 points. The single biggest deduction, surprisingly, belongs to Professor McGonagall after she fines Harry, Hermione, and Neville 50 points each for wandering the school's corridors at night. On the other hand, the most generous teacher is Dumbledore, who gives 400 points to Harry and Ron for saving Ginny from the Basilisk -- an award which pretty much guarantees that students started throwing their fellows down there for easy points.

Neville wasn't there, but they took his points anyway for being a plant-loving weirdo.

Predictably, Gryffindor has the most points on record by the end of the series (1000 given, 532 deducted), with the top-earning student being, uh, Ron? Wait, really? That guy? Well, time to re-release the books under more accurate titles, like Ron Weasley And The Whatever Bullshit He Was Doing While Harry Saved The World.

Since James Cameron wasn't directing a hardcore skin flick, though, the scene immediately cuts to the outside of the car, where we see Rose ineffectually grasp the glass of the window before slowly disappearing. This poses the question, " How the fuck were they fucking?"

Luckily, Jezebel decided to tackle such a question. They started by establishing that "the hand could not have swiped that rear window with that angle and that level of flushness if they are lying Rose bottom-Jack top." It was basically the Warren Commission, except they knew the number of shooters and were only missing the angle.

Also, how does the guy steaming vegetables in there factor into things?

So, were they doing it doggy-style? Probably not, judging by the fact that we can't see a silhouette of Leonardo DiCaprio chugging about like The Little Engine Who Could. Were they doing it missionary-style, as all sex was presumably done in that bygone era? Could be, but how would that have worked if Rose wasn't a double-jointed monster? In the end, it took Jezebel staffers taking photos of their hands and even one miming the scene in her bathtub ...

Which, to be fair, is where we do all of our work too.

... to conclude that it WAS missionary. Rose was simply using the window to brace herself for the DiCapenis that was about to enter her starboard bow. Come touchdown, she then slid back into sexual bliss and smeared her hand off the window and across his back. There, doesn't your life feel fuller now that you know that?

Does Eminem spit rhymes as fast as a machine gun can spit bullets? Yes, his rate of 600 syllables-per-minute makes him comparable to a 600 round-per-minute RPK.

"FINALLY, someone reconizes emenam's genous," replied u/marshallm72.

How many people would you need to kill if you wanted to forge a sword using only iron derived from the blood of your fallen enemies? That would be 359, accounting for both the average amount of iron in a person's body and the average weight of a classic longsword. Oh, and it turns out that the Empire could have built two million Star Destroyers for the price of a single Death Star.

"stfu u dont kno shit," said u/georgelu42 (banned account)

Their piece de resistance, however, is the answer given by one user to, " How much would it actually cost to produce a real life Truman Show?" What followed wasn't just an explanatory paragraph. It was a multipart document detailing everything that you'd need to run such a venture. Including the number of extras you'd have to hire, the full-sized town you'd need to build, the cost of constructing a gigantic space-visible dome, and most importantly, a stashpot of fancy berets for Ed Harris.

And if you can't afford a real Ed Harris, get a Jimmi Simpson and evolve him like a Pokemon.

The prognosis was that, yes, you could easily run this if you have a spare $3.5 billion per year. If you decided to run ads, however, it might even wind up being a profitable venture. Those figures might not hold up nowadays considering that you probably haven't seen a commercial since 2011, but it's enough to make us want to throw some kids in fake town jail and fire up Facebook Live.

Time for another quick-fire round! When ranked alongside the protagonists of Skyrim and Fallout, it turns out that one of the burliest characters in the history of video gaming is ... Steve from Minecraft? If you wanted to install googly eyes on the moon, they'd need to have a radius of 208.5 miles. A subway car of commuters glued to their smartphones is equivalent to the entire computing power of the world in 1991. It would take 340 pints of beer to get a whale drunk. In order to visit the Great Pyramid of Giza, the Parthenon, and the Forbidden City during the duration of "A Whole New World" Aladdin and Jasmine would have needed to fly at twice the speed of sound. We'd show you more, but we've wrecked your productivity enough as it is.

Well, at least he didn't spend it on underwear.

OK, two of the three.

The first solution -- which uses the definition of "chuck" in reference to tossing or throwing something -- was worked out in the halcyon days of 1988 by Dick Thomas, a wildlife technician with the State Department of Environmental Conservation. After realizing that the woodchuck wasn't a mythological creature and could be studied, he decided to set up shop and determine how much dirt woodchucks move when they're building their colossal burrows. These aren't any ol' burrows we're talking about here. Woodchucks live in tunnels 25 to 30 feet long and six inches wide, giving them an average volume of 35 square feet (or a real state value of one million dollars in New York City).

It says "nursery," but in practice, it's where they keep their DVDs and Sega Genesis collection.

From this, it was just a case of multiplying 35 square feet by the average weight of one square foot of soil (20 pounds), to give us the woodage that a woodchuck could chuck if they could chuck wood -- 700 pounds worth. The second solution interprets "chuck" as in "swallow." For two scientists, who probably had an interesting time explaining this to their grant administrators, there was only one real way of researching this -- feeding a group of woodchucks planks of wood and seeing how much, on average, they were able to work through in a day. Which comes out to 361 cubic centimeters.

Now that we've answered that question, discussed their living quarters, and examined their eating habits, let's settle the mystery you were really wondering about: What the fuck a woodchuck looks like.

You're welcome.

"OK, A) I'm your dad, B) we're both straight, and C) I'm not ready for that kind of commitment."

Dr. Frankenstein considers it, but stops at the last minute after he realizes that this could foretell the end of humanity "as a race of devils would be propagated upon the earth, who might make the very existence of the species of man a condition precarious and full of terror." But suppose Dr. F had said, "Sure, I was trying to figure out what to do with these leftover vaginas anyway." How long would it take the monster's ugly grandkids to take over the world? These are the questions ecologists live for, apparently, so a bunch of them sat down and worked it out. The answer?

Kinda obvious in retrospect.

Basically, we'd be fucking destroyed thanks to something called the principle of competitive exclusion -- the sad fact that two near-identical species can't share their resources (in this case, food) without one of those species genociding the other with their super-monster parts.

If the monsters had sired children, these bored ecologists reckoned, they would have started out at a disadvantage given our superior numbers. However, since they're practically unkillable and all, it wouldn't be long before the tables were turned. The fact that the monsters would have migrated to South America only helps their cause. They'd lose one or two to the occasional jaguar attack, but the sparse population would help them to easily overwhelm the continent and spread like a plague across the world, culminating in the global extinction of humanity by 6006.

Frankenstein 6006 sounds like a fantastic premise for a '90s cartoon reboot.

So yeah, no matter how shitty our world is, you should wake up every morning peppy and galvanized, as you'll be long dead by the time The Great Frankenstein War/Sex-Off of 6006 rolls around.

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