Nice Pull!

Episode 74 is the one where Nice Pull! accidentally becomes a three-generation support group for nostalgia, back pain, and bad life choices involving comic books. Jeff and Chris start in the smoldering ruins of Halloween, ranting about neutered “trunk-or-treat” events that feel like tailgates with training wheels, and reminiscing about when kids had to walk dark streets, risk urban legends, and deal with angry old men who now.

Then the “mystery guest” steps out of the liquor cabinet: Jeff’s 26-year-old son, Jarod, a self-proclaimed outlier who has listened to 73 episodes and absorbed enough Gen X trivia to function as a walking Nice Pull! wiki. He rants about trying to play Halo with friends and discovering you now need multiple accounts, a laptop, and probably a blood sacrifice just to do what four controller ports used to handle. The trio mourns the death of malls, third spaces, and random bounce-house block parties, compare notes on being so deep in thought people assume they’re having medical events, and trade injury stories (“I picked something up wrong and now I can’t move for two days”).

At one point, Chris casually admits he financed his entire childhood comic habit by embezzling quarters from his dad’s red lion’s-head bank like a tiny, nerdy mob accountant. It all ends with a glorious comic-book rabbit hole: shiny ‘90s Venom that isn’t paying anyone’s mortgage, a 1968 “dirty hippie” JimmyOlsen issue, and a full Green Lantern theology session about willpower, and alien space cops.

Chris and Jeff sprint headlong into spooky season: sweaty plastic masks with tongue-slicer mouth slits, and the eternal question—why do fewer kids trick-or-treat now and why did our childhoods involve more eggs, fists, and questionable judgment?

The lads veer gloriously off-road into “adult fear”: a 13-year-old’s drive-to-school pop quiz on mortality, Jeff’s grandma turning 104 on steak and cheesecake, and a ranked list of "Things That Shouldn’t Be Hobbies Because They Can Kill You" (hi, small planes and scuba).

Jeff confesses to one nightmare he can’t shake, while Chris admits his true terror is!

Midway through Jeff and Chris’s nostalgic dive into Halloween memories and mortality, Larry Lupree bursts in metaphorically (and almost literally) to derail the vibe with his trademark mix of manic confidence and carnival-barker enthusiasm. He drops stories about his “mentor from the golden age of television,” name-drops obscure industry relics, and manages to make thelistener feel both confused and vaguely implicated.

Finally, the boys land the broomstick with a deliciously weird history nugget: ghosts weren’t “see-through floaty guys” until phantasmagoria lantern shows in the late 1700s. Before that, ghosts looked… like regular people who could vanish mid-hallway. Which is somehow much worse. Sleep tight!

Jeff and Chris take a hard look at how their tastes have aged—like fine wine left open in a hot car. What starts as a celebration of survival (“nobody famous died this week!”) spirals into a brutally honest confessional about everything they used to love and now can’t stand, and vice versa.

Revel as they roast reggae, air travel, buffets, and humanity in general while reluctantly admitting they’ve turned into the Muppet balcony duo, Statler and Waldorf. There’s righteous outrage over McDonald’s digestion science, soda regret, and the unholy buffet sneeze guard.

Then—because growth is a thing—they pivot to rediscovered loves: Tom Petty, Fleetwood Mac, Lionel Richie, and the miracle of eating foods that aren’t beige.

Somewhere between mocking cheap beer, hating crowds, and accidentally liking hikes, the guys realize they’ve evolved into their own grumpy dads, with microphones and better lighting.

This time around the guys wander into the pop-culture saloon to pour one out for Robert Redford, 89 years young and still cooler than anyone on your timeline. In a rambling tribute that starts with Redford’s Twilight Zone cameo and ends somewhere between Sundance and the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the guys dissect why he was basically the Paul Newman of Paul Newmans — handsome, scandal-free, and capable of playing Death, a cowboy, a con man, and a newspaper reporter without breaking a sweat.

Along the way, Chris coins the term “Pee-qual,” Nick Nolte’s sex appeal is justifiably questioned, and Patty Duke gets $64,000the easy way.

Also: Sneakers gets its flowers, “The Natural” still rules, and somewhere in Utah Buddy Hackett’s ghost is quietly judging them for bringing up Herbie Rides Again.

Jeff and Chris celebrate the arbitrary magic of the number70, accidentally turn their “things that didn’t age well” episode into a eulogy for Very Special Episodes, and wage holy war on laugh tracks. Family Ties’

Uncle Ned drinks vanilla extract, Different Strokes’ bike shop creeper ruins childhoods, MAS*H drops a helicopter, and Blossom is somehow always “very special.” It’s nostalgia, derailed—polished with a cheap wig and sold at full price.

 But that’s not all. As the boys are treated to a special,rare appearance from their talent agent, Larry Lupree, the room suddenly smells faintly of Aqua Velva and broken promises.

Curious what Yoko Ono and Corey Feldman have to do with any of this? Strap in, hit play, and prepare your ears for the unholy duet you never knew you needed.

Episode 69 of Nice Pull! was supposed to be the “sexy” one, but instead Jeff and Chris turned it into a cross between an obituary column and a dad-joke competition. Along the way, wrestling gets exposed as soap opera cosplay, forgotten sitcom stars get canonized, and the Oscars’ In Memoriam is reimagined as a dance party scored to “Walking on Sunshine.” Jeff provides the near-death stunt of the week, Chris provides the mockery, and somehow the show limps into episode 70 with both co-hosts technically alive.

Two aging smartasses, one nitpicky robot, zero life lessons learned.

Strap in, because Jeff and Chris are one drive-in snack bar announcement away from a full nervous breakdown. This week, the boys hit Episode 68—two away from their totally arbitrary, earth-shattering milestone of Episode 70. What dothey talk about? Well, what don’t they? We’re talking drive-in theaters (where the movie was always secondary to pajamas, brown paper bags of greasy popcorn, and sneaking in through the trunk), movie ushers wielding flashlights like Jedi knights, and the long-lost art of heckling horror films until the whole crowd sounds like a drunken improv troupe.

Also, up for debate: crying rooms vs. smoking rooms (yes, those were real), the hell of modern trailers that spoil entire films, the social stigma of going to movies alone, and why Nicole Kidman really needs to stop telling people how magical AMC is—while they’re already sitting inside AMC.

Warning: this episode contains graphic descriptions of line-cutting revenge, soda-related crimes, and the kind of behavior that ushers live to bust.

It’s part nostalgia trip, part therapy session, and 100% proof that these two will derail any plan they start with. But hey, that’s the Nice Pull! way.

Jeff and Chris kick things off with a sarsaparilla fueled dive into the wild world of vintage family restaurants. The guys unwrap the cringey backstory of Sambo’s, Bob’s Big Boy thefts, Howard Johnson’s over-the-freeway diners, puberty inducing mannequins in lingerie on Interstate 8, and the alleged crimesof the Frito Bandito. There’s even a heartfelt shoutout to Coco’s, Marie Callender’s, and yet another nod to the legendary local eatery Beef & Bun—which apparently only makes sense if you’ve ever been sunburned in San Carlos.

Along the way, Chris confesses his growing, unstoppable Merv Griffin-style “ooohs,” Jeff compares old diners to Twilight Zone death traps, and both hosts relive the trauma of being raised in an era where Speedy Gonzales was considered "diverse representation." It’s the exact type of deranged energy you’ve come to expect—and if you haven’t come to expect it by now, welcome to Nice Pull!

The boys jump helmet-first into the weird, wonderful world of buddy cop TV shows, psychotropic nostalgia, and the gloriously greasy tradition of 1970s dinner outings—where the pizza was cheap, the ambiance was ragtime theater of the absurd, and the waitstaff dressed like extras from a Prohibition musical—because nothing says 'fun for the kids' like mandatory garters and foam hats.

First up: a deep dive into CHiPs, that California highway fantasy where two officers fought crime, revved engines, and—plot twist—got towed on trailers while pretending to ride motorcycles. But hold your hot dogs, because actual Officer John Baker, Larry Wilcox himself, shows up with behind-the-scenes dirt so dry it could’ve been filmed on the Bonneville Salt Flats (which, by the way, is where Wilcox once set a land speedrecord in a Mercury LN7—yes, that was a car, not a calculator).

Things wrap up with a trip down Southern California’s memory lane, including Beef & Bun, Straw Hat Pizza, and mods on mopeds—trench-coated hipsters on two-stroke engines, leaving trails of aftershave and disapproval in their wake.

Plus, Jeff’s Domino’s delivery career, which lasted roughly as long as a CHiPs cold open.

Episode Outlook: Extremely good.
Dopamine Levels: Dangerously high.
T Levels: Low... very low.

Jeff, powered by three Red Bulls and a questionable sense of purpose, drags Chris into a deep dive on 70s/80s TV — an era when undercover cops thought driving a bright red muscle car or a jet-black van with a giant red stripe was the pinnacleof subtlety.

They take no prisoners as they rip apart:

Cracker Jack prizes devolving from actual metal toys to “here’s a paper cutout, go cry in the corner.”

The psychic fish that was really just heat-sensitive plastic scamming your sweaty palm.

Stretch Armstrong, a nightmare blob of corn syrup in a Speedo, proving that kids will worship anything if you market it with enough commercials.

They sort of attempt to discuss buddy shows and mismatched TV duos, but get gleefully derailed by rants on Knight Rider’s condescending talking car, Miami Vice’s ridiculous “undercover” fashion choices, and why every 80s action crew apparently included a helicopter and a token ex-Vietnam vet.