Preesh KICKS OUT and eats all the remaining hot dogs just for the sheer joy of it.

Ballpark Franks. Oscar Mayer Wieners. Sabrett Skinless Beef Frankfurters. Hebrew National Links. It don't matter, SON! Preesh unhinges his jaw and those meat cylinders slither down his gullet, never to be seen again... except in the toilet tank of Charlie Nickles' dressing room commode, because that's where OL' PREESHY is headed right after he gets these bad boys through his system!

"AYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY! It's been a MUH_FUG minute since I seent you, BRUH! WASS hattnin'???"

Preesh and YALL-KNOW give each other a complicated slapping of hands. When did they learn this secret handshake/ Is it a hot dog thing? We don't know.

"Sorry 'bout yo DAMN LUCK DOOOOOOEEEE! This belt be mine, CUH. And you know I am untouchable when it comes to downing dogs. Nice try though homie."