Toothbrush slander, cinnamon-on-toast propaganda, and a few catastrophic poo stories quickly unravels into a full buffet of chaos. There’s talk of cringe moments that still haunt us, and a multi-layered debate on fiber intake that would make any dietician resign on the spot. We debut a new segment, The Motion Has Been Passed and pitch a totally unhinged business idea: a late-night food truck called The Savaloy Wagon.

Eventually things settle into habits, laziness, fasting, Greek yogurt, resilience, reading, boredom, and an unwanted Facebook Marketplace feud. There’s a weight-loss challenge, a creativity challenge, and more anatomical oversharing than anyone asked for. It’s deranged, warm and occasionally useful. Just a classic week with the Savaloy Boys.

First-root confessions reveal a fishing village fiasco involving a tarp and a tea towel which slowly unravel into something uncomfortably human. It’s the full emotional arc: filth, laughter, and more tangents than anyone asked for. There the usual chat of heavy sets, budding bosoms, sleepless nights, and magnesium, before the conversation turns toward fathers, forgiveness, and the gravity of having kids.

By the end, things get raw. The jokes run out, the beers go quiet, and the Beef himself sheds a tiny, heroic tear.

It’s funny, it’s sad, it’s long, and it’s one of our best.

Buckle up.

A pub table near the toilets. Bad choices are made immediately, and defended passionately. There’s talk of zombies, furries, screen addictions, heavy nuts, gratitude, and fathers who didn’t quite show up. The tone shifts like a drunk jukebox — earnest, dumb, briefly profound, then dumb again.

Someone almost redeems themselves with a quote about facing death; someone else ruins it with the phrase “tattooable quote.” A small mercy is found somewhere between honesty and idiocy, and for now, that’s enough.