Uncle Bill's Pet Store Black Tip Baby Shark Little Bro

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With the second season of I Think You Should Leave now streaming on Netflix, we asked our staff to sit down, accept a sloppy steak, and judge every sketch in the show's run with the aforementioned rigor they would use in a Baby of the Year competition. It wasn't easy to do—nigh every sketch in the series deserves praise and has an argument for being the best—but afterwards much deliberation, here is a ranking of every sketch in I Think You lot Should Go out.

53. "Fenton's Stables and Equus caballus Ranch" (Season ane, Episode vi)

A trademark of most Tim Robinson sketches is that where they start and where they end up oftentimes have zippo to do with each other. Plotlines morph into unrecognizable tangents, the smallest details are latched onto and beaten into the basis until the dotted line from setup to dial line becomes a twisted thread of defoliation and hilarity. But that's, uh, not the case with this one. It's but a 90-2d sketch about horse dicks. —Cory McConnell

52. "Credit Carte Roulette" (Flavor 2, Episode v)

Credit menu roulette is an objectively terrible game. It's an automatic nighttime ruiner. The credit carte du jour gods can always sense the nigh vulnerable bank account, and in this instance, Leslie is smote with a 10-person tab at a fancy restaurant. Like Pavlov'south dog, upon hearing his proper noun, Leslie immediately replies with an all-time hissy fit: "I'm not paying the bill. That's fucking crazy. It'south likewise much money. Peradventure if I got a bite of everyone's repast, but I just don't want to do information technology." Hal, the friend who proposed the game, attempts to diffuse the situation by maxim he'll pay the check, simply Leslie is just getting started. "FUCK! I SHOULD Take LIED! I should have said there was some reason I couldn't pay and non simply said correct abroad I'm non gonna." Yes, Leslie. You should have lied. —Matt Dollinger

51. "Huge Dumps" (Season 2, Episode 6)

As far as ITYSL sketches revolving around bathroom humor become, "Huge Dumps" is probably the weakest. It just doesn't have the specificity and knotty plotting of "The Gift Receipt" or the surrealism of "Calico Cut Pants." What it does have is Tim Robinson existence scolded by his boss for hiring a guy who looks like his coworker to accept huge dumps he could then arraign on said coworker—a gag that, with all due respect, worked "150 times." Information technology also has Robinson arguing that Jerry from Tom & Jerry probably sniffed women's panties ("You weren't with him 24/7 in the drawing!") and interrupting his own scolding to complain about how a guy who lives too far away wants to purchase his bicycle stand. It's non a peak sketch; it's however pretty great. —Andrew Gruttadaro

l. "Little Buff Boys" (Season 2, Episodes 1 and 5)

"Little Buff Boys" is Season 2's spiritual sequel to Season 1's "Baby of the Year." For that reason, it lacks some of the original'southward absurd shock, but information technology'southward still ridiculous and quotable. Instead of Sam Richardson making three judges pick a perfect baby, he's making one role manager select who he thinks is the buffest trivial boy (they're not really that ripped—Richardson has simply put the boys in "goose suits"). Obviously, the boss has some qualms nigh evaluating minors in front of all his employees, and the matter falls apart in quick order. No matter, Richardson hosting failed competitions is a clearly rich vein for ITYSL. There must be a third i coming, though the winner will never be Troll Boy. —Richie Bozek

49. "The Blues Brother" (Flavour 2, Episode 4)

At that place are tiny moments that save this sketch, in which Robinson'southward character tries to lighten the mood of a party past doing a Dejection Brothers routine, only to brand things way worse past freaking out a family dog: Conner O'Malley playing the world's well-nigh aggrieved husband; the banal give-and-take virtually why the domestic dog is losing its shit, which ends with O'Malley yelling, "What?! We know what the problem is"; and a 2d dog coming out of nowhere and about running through a glass door. And finally, there'southward Robinson's performance after the routine has clearly bombed: tears smeared on his face, the whole house staring at him, he just says, "This actually is quite a beautiful business firm." Annnnnd scene. —Gruttadaro

48. "Claire's" (Season 2, Episode 6)

So many of I Recollect You Should Go out'south most outstanding bits are underpinned by some kind of profound sadness, simply this is the only one that Trojan horses its darkness in a pair of unicorn earrings. You know what'south scarier than getting your ears pierced in the dorsum of a tween accompaniment store? Seeing the people who cared for you as a baby become babies themselves. Luckily, Claire's is a place where people immature and old can go to find peace—a identify where a absurd college girl will calm your deepest fears, and fifty-fifty in moments of gastrointestinal distress, assist you to live life similar no one can hear the splashes. —Rob Mahoney

47. "Infinite Eating place" (Season 2, Episode 5)

Comedy is specificity, and specificity is Tim Heidecker with shoulder-length hair in a deep V-neck giving an increasingly personal and detailed business relationship of his date's mother drinking vomit, repeatedly, on the Davy and Rascal Show simply to buy school supplies for her children, all because a simulated alien comic at a novelty space café zeroed in on the incorrect tabular array at the incorrect fourth dimension. That it's shot as if Heidecker'south Gary is having an honest-to-god conversation with an animatronic conflicting caput is a freaking gift. But what unfolds from there is a story of justice. This is the comeuppance that all roast comics deserve: to be dragged out into the light and made to answer for themselves, and then be conned out of another Mars Cocktail™ just because. —Mahoney

46. "New Joe" (Flavour 1, Episode three)

New Joe (Fred Willard) is the replacement organist at a funeral service, and he brings his own American Footplayer–esque instrument to the proceedings. To honor the departed, he plays a little ditty that absolutely slaps but is a fleck tonally off. Things get even more than bad-mannered (and hilarious) when he starts breaking dishes with glee. You'd think a funeral would be one of the easier rooms to read, but New Joe cannot read rooms. ("My condolences," he keeps saying.) It'south that applesauce that makes "New Joe" a great addition to I Think You lot Should Leave. —Isaac Levy-Rubinett

45. "Johnny Carson" (Season 2, Episode v)

Nothing resonates with millennials like a Johnny Carson impersonator. Unfortunately for the attendees of this house party that Carson was hired for—"at a low, low price point"—he can hit. As in, he's contractually immune to assault the party's patrons. "Oh my god, Johnny Carson only fucking hitting me," cries out ane partygoer. Tim Robinson's character, the impersonator's wrangler, comes breathlessly barging in: "HE CAN! HE CAN! HE Tin!" Little practise the people know, hitting is, of form, allowed at this price point, allowing Carson to tee off on unsuspecting attendees similar he'south taking his famous monologue swing. "Wild, wild stuff." —Dollinger

44. "Lifetime Achievement" (Season one, Episode 4)

An awards ceremony honoring the groovy Herbie Hancock—the prototype of absurd—goes horribly incorrect when Tim Robinson's graphic symbol, an awkward bespectacled presenter, trips on the stairs, falls off the stage, and proceeds to be furiously mauled by a service dog. Or so he claimed. "I don't think the dog that chip me should be put downwards," he says as he opens his speech honoring Hancock's body of work. But according to the possessor of said domestic dog, literally every audience member in attendance, and the Watermelon Human being himself, the dog didn't bite Robinson—information technology humped his head. Robinson is in total denial, but in that location's video evidence that's presently linked to the overhead monitor. "You don't record people," Robinson begs. Just with the ceremony completely off the track and #HumpGate in total swing, Robinson's character lobs i last attempt at getting things dorsum on track with an all-fourth dimension classic: "That'southward why I love Herbie Hancock, he loves to lie." —Dollinger

43. "Christmas Carol" (Flavour 1, Episode 4)

In this two-minute mash-upwardly of A Christmas Carol and The Terminator (sure, why not?), Babe of the Yr/Lilliputian Vitrify Boys host Sam Richardson stars equally the Ghost of Christmas Way Future, a power-armor-wearing warrior from the yr 3050 who Kool-Aid Mans through Ebenezer Scrooge's wall to warn him about the dangers of Skeletrex and his Bone Brigade. The time-traveling Ghost doesn't divulge how the Bonies came to life—is this the origin story for "The Bones Are Their Money"?—simply the brief skit is worth it to hear Richardson rant, "He'southward 15 anxiety tall and he has basic the size of tree trunks!," "Apply your Christmas cheer and bash its frickin' brains out, ya idiot!," and "Crap dang information technology, this sucks!" This isn't Richardson'due south all-time office in the series, but information technology gives me an excuse to say that if you lot oasis't watched real-life besties Richardson and Robinson (and other familiar faces from ITYSL) in the dearly departed Detroiters, you should practise so immediately. —Ben Lindbergh

42. "Party Business firm" (Season i, Episode six)

Permit's take a moment to shout out some of the I Think You Should Go out behind-the-scenes staff. In a series defined past the over-the-top performances of its actors, the most over-the-top operation in this sketch comes from the set designers. They built a house that is—equally its owner (Kate Berlant) boasts—"all Garfield." The sketch remains funny equally characters try to phase an intervention for their friend in an environment that hampers whatever serious conversations, only the show already won when the lights flip on to reveal a house that'due south filled with Odie chairs. (They recline!) —Rodger Sherman

41. "Parking Lot" (Season 2, Episode v)

There are few things in life more universal than getting annoyed at a commuter who doesn't know what they're doing, something "Parking Lot" capitalizes on in an unexpected way. The sketch hinges on a frustrated driver getting blocked while leaving a parking lot, and in an attempt to insult the other person (played past Robinson) by telling him he tin can't drive, the driver finds out that, well, he actually tin't. There's a hilariously infantile quality to the way Robinson reacts to his unfamiliar environs, like screaming when he accidentally hits the horn because it scared him. And if nothing else, "Parking Lot" is responsible for one of the most meme-worthy moments of the show'south second season. This is exactly what I say every year trying to file taxes:

—Miles Surrey

40. "Tammy Craps" (Flavor 2, Episode 6)

When I watched Julia Butters in In one case Upon a Time … in Hollywood I knew she'd be a star. What I didn't know is that the adjacent fourth dimension I saw her she'd be pitching a mildly toxic doll who lies about pooping and huffing Macanudo cigars in a Season 2 sketch on I Call back You Should Exit. You see, the problem with the Tammy Craps doll is that at that place was an upset factory worker who was farting in all the heads. That led to the company using a deodorizing low-course poison, which solved ane trouble…

… but it turns out that that low-form poison is an extremely high-grade toxicant for anyone nether 60 pounds. In that case, "holding a Tammy Craps doll is similar smoking 5 Macanudo cigars a day," a wildly committed Julia Butters says to another girl. (That girl goes on to put rocks in her pockets to false her weight and go a Tammy Craps doll, and so she … dies?)

Before I wrote this all out, I idea "Tammy Craps" was a pretty good, medium-funny sketch. At present I'm convinced it's the weirdest thing this show has ever done. —Gruttadaro

39. "Jamie Taco" (Season 2, Episode four)

A poker dark with the boys hits all the clichés, as everyone takes turns making fun of their nagging wives over some beers. But after an offhand comment about how being married to his wife makes him want to potable more, Scott (a committed Paul Walter Hauser) immediately regrets what he said. The sketch and so spirals into an unexpectedly earnest flashback about Scott'southward married woman supporting him when he gets cast as a mobster in a local theater production and all his lines keep getting stolen by an asshole named Jamie Taco (Jamie talks, like, super fast). With how many I Think You Should Exit sketches culminate in chaos and/or despair, there's something genuinely sweet well-nigh Scott going full Married woman Guy at poker night, which also happens to be a sleepover party for eye-aged men. Dudes stone—except for Jamie Taco, whose name I'll never forget—only they should also say nicer things about their wives. —Surrey

38. "Wilson'south Toupees" (Season 1, Episode ii)

The most memorable role of "Wilson's Toupees" is when a gorilla emerges out of nowhere to snatch someone'south toupee. The funniest part is the concept of a direct-to-consumer subscription service that sends 500 "little wigs"—each slightly more bald than the last—to men who are set to ditch the toupee and embrace their baldness but need a gradual progression so their coworkers don't say, "Was that a toupee, you piece of shit?" That's comedic gold; we didn't actually need the gorillas. —Levy-Rubinett

37. "Capital Room" (Season 2, Episode 2)

I Recollect Y'all Should Leave takes place in its own parallel universe, where the bones are their money and bury flops abound. It'south therefore jarring to get a pop culture parody as precise every bit "Capital Room," a transparent riff on Shark Tank. But while "Capital letter Room" may not fit seamlessly into I Remember Yous Should Go out'southward particular gestalt, it's a remarkable showcase for Patti Harrison, the recurring guest star who seems to go the show's whole stupid, grotesque, profane bargain. Harrison'southward fellow sharks—pitiful, "moguls"—fabricated their fortunes in fashion and sunglasses. She sued the metropolis after getting sewn into the pants of the Charlie Dark-brown float at the Thanksgiving Mean solar day parade. It'due south a perfectly nonsensical choice that Harrison elevates with her securely strange delivery. Just listen to the style she says "popcorn." —Alison Herman

36. "The Conference Room" (Season 2, Episode vi)

Working remotely for a year and a half, this sketch is my about recent bespeak of reference to what a workplace environment should resemble. I tin't wait to go back.

After their dominate leaves the conference room, members of this piece of work squad showtime surfing, dancing, spinning chairs to create whirlpools, and cracking open up multiple cans of seltzer water to spray body of water mist. Tim Robinson'southward character, Russell, isn't in on the fun at start, until he literally flips the tabular array to create a "big wave!" as only Tim Robinson tin can. This is followed by a variety of laughable exclamations in the midst of the anarchy, like "Napkins, napkins!," "I need a wet paper towel!," and "Fucking psycho!" Information technology is nonetheless another ITYSL story about a man who does not fit in, trying disastrously hard to practice so.

Too, if you know me and are reading this, take note: Please don't ever gift me chode jeans. —Bozek

35. "New Printer" (Season one, Episode 5)

Repetitiveness is the death of expert one-act, as approving-seeking office worker Tracy (Patti Harrison) discovers. After her boss gets mild chuckles with a Christmas joke, Tracy deploys "hundreds of on-par, if non meliorate" jokes, only to notice that the Christmas sense of humour had already run dry. Luckily, there's no repetition with Harrison, who treats every line as an opportunity to be a dissimilar sort of weirdo. She pinballs between personas, transforming from a naive kid pending presents to a bullying coworker ("DID I STUTTER, MEGAN?" she scowls, before emphatically retelling a tired Santa joke) to an elf with a vaguely Scottish accent. Every delivery is unexpected. With replacement-level line reads, this skit would have been forgettable; with Harrison on fire, it'a a keeper. Thank Santa and his reindeer for bringing Harrison's functioning to us early. —Sherman

34. "Pinkish Purse" (Season one, Episode 2)

Whoopie cushions are not funny—I feel like nosotros can all agree on this. What's the joke, even? That someone farted merely information technology doesn't even smell? That no one's puking from the stench of the fart? And what comes after that: Block batter down someone's pants? Brownish pudding in their shoes to make them think they're mighty sick? They get to the ER and not simply miss their family photo merely utilize hospital resources that someone with more pressing needs could employ? And then that person dies? Wow. You got her, Jane. You actually got her. —Gruttadaro

33. "Babysitter" (Season 1, Episode 5)

"Let'southward say the babysitter was tardily" has to exist the all-time, nearly used excuse of all time. I can't speak from experience because I don't have children, but whether it's true in the moment or not, it feels like a situation that has legitimately happened at 1 point to all parents. And who are you to question those using the excuse? If somebody says their babysitter was late, then the babysitter was late. Leave information technology at that, everybody move on.

This sketch expands upon what might happen if either party didn't but exit it at that. If, say, the excuse-maker got a little too elaborate and explained that the bodyguard was late because she was in a striking-and-run that killed some people who the cops say are "just kind of, similar, zilch." And and so some guy named Barry asked too many goddamn questions. Lies and questions build and build earlier somebody needs to go embarrassed. From the outside it'south hilarious, but I would hate to be defenseless in the mess of it like Barry. —Bozek

32. "River Mountain High/TC Tuggers" (Flavour 1, Episode 2)

Here are two immaculate parodies smashed into ane: first, a perfect riff on a CW teen prove that includes this fantabulous tidbit of dialogue:

Just then the principal (Robinson) shows up wearing an interesting shirt, one with a picayune knob on the front so your shirt doesn't get messed up when you lot pull on it, and that brings us to the second immaculate parody: of a commercial for said shirt, geared specifically toward middle-aged men.

The vocal used in the ad sounds exactly like the song Home Depot uses for its ads; information technology's just wonderful. Also? TC Tuggers solves a problem that every human on earth has encountered at one time or another. That's what takes this from baroque banter and pitch-perfect recreations to absolute brilliance. —Gruttadaro

31. "Both Means" (Season 1, Episode 1)

"Both Ways" is the very first sketch in the series, and as such, information technology'southward responsible for establishing the template of a typical ITYSL scenario: Someone makes a minor faux pas in a mundane social situation and, rather than admit the error, doubles (or quadruples) downward on pretending that it wasn't i. As he exits a cordial coffee-store job interview, Robinson pulls on a door that only opens outward, and then tries to play off the slightly embarrassing mistake by insisting that he was there yesterday and that the door "does both." At that point, he has to commit to the cover story past yanking the door off its hinges until information technology's and so splintered that it does become both ways. While performing this feat of strength and stupidity, Robinson maintains eye contact and keeps up a plastered-on smile, even as his brow vein throbs with the effort and drool slides down his chin. He's probably not going to get the job, but you have to applaud his persistence. —Lindbergh

30. "Dan Flashes" (Flavor 2, Episode 2)

The I Think You Should Leave fashion drove is always-expanding. If y'all're looking for the perfect top to go in betwixt your Calico Cut Pants and your Stanzo Fedora, caput to Dan Flashes, a very aggressive store that sells expensive and hideous bowling shirts, priced based on how complicated the patterns are. (Unfortunately, Dan Flashes shirts don't accept trivial tugging knobs to go along you from wrecking your shirt by pulling on it.) If y'all think too hard about it, this skit is a biting critique of American consumerism—when Tim Robinson's graphic symbol Mike sees dozens of identical-looking men physically fighting over unnecessarily pricey shirts, he becomes obsessed with purchasing the nigh expensive ones and starts skipping meals to finance them. But you shouldn't remember as well difficult about information technology. That's something Doug would do. —Sherman

29. "Crashmore" (Season 2, Episode 3)

Explaining why this sketch is funny doesn't require nuanced analysis. Information technology's a trailer for a fake movie starring the titular aging, horrifically violent detective with a long white beard. Recall: Dirty Harry if he were a hermit. He shoots up bad guys at close range and says things like "Swallow fuckin' bullets you fuckers!" Oh, and also: He'southward played by Santa Claus, who during a press junket interview refers to the film equally "a catholic gumbo." —Alan Siegel

28. "Bozo" (Season 1, Episode 6)

ITYSL excels at using everyday office settings as setups for cool social interactions, and "Bozo" is i of the best sketches in that genre. This two-parter revolves effectually Reggie, who non only isn't in on the joke but also doesn't seem to understand jokes. Feeling peer pressure level from his younger, YouTube-savvy coworkers who bandy viral video recommendations and clinch each other that their selections are then funny, Reggie commencement pretends to have a favorite video that he forgets how to discover. Determined not to come up upwards empty-handed in the conference room again, he then creates and uploads his ain video, in which a foul-mouthed Bozo the Clown confusingly dubs over footage of himself proverb what he was thinking in the scene. It's a ridiculous solution to a slight problem, but it'south also somewhat relatable: Somewhere in the world, there'due south a person in an office who hasn't seen ITYSL just felt left out when everyone was talking about it and pretended to have a favorite sketch that they couldn't remember how to type in. —Lindbergh

27. "The Hot Dog Saga" (Flavor 2, Episodes ane & 3)

One day I hope to honey something one-half every bit much as Tim Robinson loves hot-dog-related bits. In this two-parter, Robinson plays an office worker whose boss calls a meeting right earlier he's almost to eat his hot domestic dog tiffin. ("I don't know if you're allowed to practise that.") Naturally, the simply reasonable solution is to endeavour and stealthily inhale the hot domestic dog in the coming together through a shirt sleeve, which goes horribly wrong when Robinson near chokes to death. While the ensuing chaos to Robinson'due south almost-death experience is the sketch's selling bespeak, the all-time sight gag might come up before the fateful meeting—look how absurdly long the hot dog actually is:

The second half of the hot domestic dog saga sees that aforementioned character peddling a hyperspecific hot dog vacuum—or Hd Vac, which but looks similar a regular vacuum—in a commercial where he's railing against cancel culture. It's emblematic of so many I Think You Should Exit characters taking the wrong lessons from their failures, only if we're being honest, I gotta side with the hot canis familiaris fanatic on this one: You can't just expect someone to skip lunch. —Surrey

26. "Baby of the Year" (Flavor 1, Episode 1)

"Infant of the Year" is probably best remembered for Bart Harley Jarvis, the bad boy of the annual competition who is so unlikable that audience members shout expletives at an infant dressed like a niggling biker. (Side note: FUCK Yous, HARLEY JARVIS!) But this god-tier sketch soars for all the delirious details that become thrown into the mix: the fact that the competition takes three months and has been going on for 112 years; the infants' health being assessed by a guy named Dr. Skull; an "In Memoriam" segment for previous winners that includes cause of death; and Sam Richardson as the host who, upon learning that i of the baby's parents gave the mystery gauge oral, deadpans, "Aw man, that'south a bummer, might fuck this whole thing up." It'due south only fitting that "Infant of the Year" is just the third sketch in the series' run. What better litmus examination to observe out whether you can become on the prove's wavelength than with ane of its about cluttered sketches right off the bat? —Surrey

25. "Ghost Bout" (Flavour ii, Episode 1)

Robinson specializes in playing maladjusted men. What's impressive is that he somehow makes each one unique. Like this guy. When a late-nighttime ghost-bout guide tells his guests that they can say whatever they want, Robinson's character immediately blurts out "jizz." And so, to the group'southward chagrin, he proceeds to ask questions similar "Any of these fuckers ever fall out of the ceiling and just have like a big messy shit? Or take a dingleberry?" The group eventually bands together to toss out the foul-mouthed dude (who argues, quite compellingly, that he isn't actually breaking any rules). Only the turn comes at the very cease, when his elderly mother picks him up and asks if he's made whatsoever new friends. For a cursory moment, we sympathize with someone whose only manner of connecting with people is by talking about ghost excrement. —Siegel

24. "Biker Guy" (Season ane, Episode two)

Biker Guy is one of the most important fictional characters in at least the last decade of goggle box. He has forever changed the fashion I view everyday methods of transportation. I instinctively say, "That'southward a squeamish motorcycle," when I run across a motorcycle, fifty-fifty though I know nothing about motorcycles. Bicycles now are motorcycles with no motor; standard four-door sedans are 2 motorcycles with a little house in the heart; I driblet to my knees when I meet a autobus.

There's such a thing every bit influence, and "Biker Guy" has it. —Bozek

23. "Calico Cut Pants" (Season 2, Episode 4)

Tim Robinson is unmatched in his power to pinpoint everyday nuisances that most everyone experiences but is too embarrassed to talk about. Season 1 had TC Tuggers to solve the event of bunched-up shirts getting ruined by men pulling on them; Flavour 2 has Calico Cutting Pants (dot com), a website that provides an alibi to men who dribble urine on their pants by giving the appearance that such pee dots are actually intentional design choices. You lot tin't purchase the pants, but it looks like you lot can, and that's all ane really needs, wouldn't yous concord?

But what elevates this sketch—the longest of any in the series, and my favorite one in Flavor 2—is the increasing weirdness of the homo (Robinson) prodding his coworker (Mike O'Brien) to donate to Calico Cut Pants so that it can stay online. First we observe out that his wife is eating batteries—"She says she's not eating them, then nosotros become to the doc and the doc says, 'Yeah, nosotros found a bombardment in in that location'"—and so it begins to seem similar he might be the devil? Or at least a demon who has a legion of pee-dribbling minions? The scenes where Robinson violently yells "Agree THAT DOOR!" to people who are so far away from him are just the ruddy on top. —Gruttadaro

22. "Choking" (Flavor 1, Episode 5)

I Think You Should Exit's best sketches feature characters taking things way likewise far. "Choking" takes that approach to a hilarious cease point when Robinson's grapheme refuses to acknowledge that he's choking to death because his favorite musician-actor-designer, Caleb Went, is sitting at the tabular array and he doesn't want to seem weird—which, as he speaks in a pained honk and gives a toast with veins bulging from his brow, he obviously doesn't. But look at this desperation…

… that ends in complete resignation:

—Levy-Rubinett

21. "Chunky" (Flavour i, Episode 6)

Honestly, Dan Vega? This one's on you. You created Dan Vega'south Mega Money Quiz; you brought Mesomorphic into this game-testify globe. You identified his role in the ecosystem as a character who "eats your points, and"—emphasis mine—gets "very mad."

Chunky could've simply eaten the points, Dan Vega! He did not demand to get mad at the contestants. Perhaps if y'all had provided him with a more positive and healthier framework for how to exist in the game, he wouldn't exist absolutely wrecking Andy Samberg'south shit every fourth dimension he comes out from behind the drape and seeking your approval in the process, merely to exist met with louder and louder scorn:

Yous know that scene in Mallrats where Stan Lee tells Brodie nearly creating Marvel characters that "reflected my own heartbreak and my own regrets"? This is that, but with Dan Vega creating Chunky equally a vessel for his disability to procedure and defang his unfettered rage. I don't call up Chunky's the 1 who actually has to figure out what he does. Yous take all summer to call up of it, Dan Vega. Good luck. —Dan Devine

20. "Driver's Ed" (Season 2, Episode 6)

We've all been there. You're sitting in traffic and in that location's a lady in front of you with a minivan full of dirty, stinkin' tables. Obviously, she'due south distracted. Maybe Eddie Munster threw them in a mud pool. Maybe Freddy Krueger was somehow involved. Or maybe they were soiled after existence rented to local comic-cons and horror-cons. Either way, this adult female's job is clearly tables. ("These tables are how I purchase my business firm. They are how I go along my business firm hot.") Perchance you withal don't get it. ("DO YOU Empathise THE TABLES ARE MY CORN?") At this point, you've lost all sophistication within your car. Rage has boiled over. Composure has been lost. The tables are filthy and the driver in front end of you is dragging ass. So what do yous do? You take it out on the tables. You lot floor it, plowing into the minivan, as you scream into the heavens: "THIS IS THE MADDEST I'VE E'er BEEN!" Too, it's Driver's Ed 101. —Dollinger

19. "Traffic" (Season 1, Episode 4)

Even among the many weirdos in this show'due south universe, Conner O'Malley's grapheme here stands out. After spotting a "Honk If You're Horny" bumper sticker on Robinson's motorcar, he lays on his SUV's horn—"That's me!"—so follows Robinson around for days, honking nonstop. O'Malley spends the sketch doing what he does best: grunting, groaning, and yelling until Robinson finally asks him what his deal is. "I thought that you worked for similar a service or a visitor that helped out guys that are so horny that their stomachs hurt!" O'Malley says. "'Cause that's what I am!" What takes this sketch to another level is when, in a hysterically foreign bonding moment, Robinson helps him alleviate his hurting. With his stash of porn. Because it turns out he is like a service that helps out guys who are so horny that their stomachs hurt. —Siegel

xviii. "Baby Shower" (Season 1, Episode 6)

The protagonist of this sketch attempted and failed to make a mob movie, and now he'southward stuck with 50 Stanzo-make fedoras, one,000 plastic meatballs that may or may not look like little pieces of shit, and 50 black slicked-dorsum-pilus wigs, all of which he'due south trying to unload in a baby-shower planning coming together as part of the gift bags. He'south visibly upset that the balance of the group prefers items like candles or individual bottles of champagne, so one of the planners generously offers to buy a few fedoras. The highlight of the sketch comes when he tries to leverage that modicum of sympathy to become a bulk social club. The way he says "It's gotta be quality on my end, otherwise no fuckin' deal" kind of makes me want to watch his mob movie. —Levy-Rubinett

17. "Nachos" (Season 1, Episode 4)

At that place are iii things that many of Robinson'southward all-time characters struggle with: pent-upward acrimony, venting said rage, and accepting responsibleness for their misguided actions. When the human in this sketch gets annoyed that the date he's sharing nachos with is eating all the "fully loaded" ones, he doesn't politely ask her to leave him some. Instead, he clandestinely convinces their dislocated waiter to approach the table and tell her that such a exercise is confronting the restaurant's rules.

She naturally figures it all out. Yet fifty-fifty after getting called out, Robinson repeatedly feigns ignorance—ruining the date but causing the audience to laugh at his ridiculous petulance. —Siegel

sixteen. "Which Manus?" (Flavor i, Episode three)

Credit the quality of this sketch—in which a wife lashes out at her hubby considering he allowed himself to exist humiliated during a magician's routine—to the line readings. Every option is spot on, from Robinson going full normcore with "If I didn't have to bulldoze, I would've probably taken them upwardly on that bourbon flight—that's so cool" to literally everything Cecily Strong says (one highlight: "I'm glad you had fun, while anybody else had to watch an developed man wiggle your picayune-boy dick off"). Watching Strong's dissatisfied wife go up against Robinson's beta husband volition never not be funny. And it'south all underpinned past one undeniable axiom: Magicians exercise suck. —Gruttadaro

fifteen. "Game Night" (Season 1, Episode 3)

I of the sketches where the person who should leave is non Tim Robinson, "Game Night" stars Tim Heidecker as Howie, the new boyfriend introduced to a friend group through what ought to be an innocent icebreaker: game dark. Merely Howie, to use a technical term, sucks—insulting the host's "meat and potatoes" record collection, enervating ice-common cold gazpacho, and worst of all, submitting impossible-to-gauge celebrities like Tiny "Boop Squig" Shorterly and Roy Donk. Tim Robinson characters tend to be fundamentally well-meaning, simply declining to understand why the rest of the world doesn't get where they're coming from. Howie is only an asshole, and a kind we all recognize: the insufferable music snob. Why can't jazz guys merely be chill for in one case?! —Herman

14. "Professor Yurabay" (Season 2, Episode three)

Ane of the joys of watching ITYSL is deciphering how it will twist a seemingly normal situation into something totally absurd. Take, for example, this sketch, during which a business concern schoolhouse professor has dinner with his former students. Their small talk is completely innocuous until Bob McDuff Wilson'southward wise teacher starts fixating on a protégé's burger. A minute in, he'southward fully devolved into a devilish lilliputian kid who "jokingly" covets and so steals the food, eats it, and so threatens to blackmail his frustrated pupils if they tell anyone nigh what he did.

A lesser show might've fabricated the gentle onetime soul the butt of the joke, simply that'd be too predictable for Robinson and Co. They're happy to give unassuming characters similar Professor Yurabay the last bite. —Siegel

13. "Karl Havoc" (Season two, Episode 1)

Maybe I was merely riding the high of starting the 2d flavour when I watched this for the showtime time. Only here's what happened: Afterwards the hot domestic dog sketch segued into "Corncob TV," I started laughing uncontrollably. When the latter stopped, I was gasping for air and crying with laughter; the muscles in my face hurt. So this sketch started. Past the time Robinson, laden with unrealistic-looking prosthetics, froze in a food court and yelled "I'g then hot!" and "We did way too much!" I was crying and so hard my eyes were burning. To recap: "Karl Havoc" is so funny (and also so pitiful?) it fabricated my optics fire. What'due south that do for the greater proficient? Really, a lot. —Lindbergh

12. "The Diner Friend" (Flavor 2, Episode 2)

There'south a reason your parents told you not to talk to strangers: Sometimes they just don't shut up. Tim Robinson's grapheme is sitting in a diner booth across from his girl when he tells an innocent lie—"When it's too common cold exterior, all the ice cream stores shut"—earlier looking to a stranger (Bob Odenkirk) in the next booth in hopes he'll dorsum him upward. Odenkirk's character not merely backs him up but proceeds to up the ante time after time with increasingly absurd, trivial lies. He starts by challenge the two men are erstwhile friends. And then the same age. And so he raves nigh his car drove ("If I don't have triples, then the other stuff's not truthful"). And so he brings up his (very imaginary) wife. "Tell her almost my married woman," Odenkirk begs Robinson. By at present, the jig is up and the daughter is fully aware that not just is the ice cream store likely open up but both her dad and this man are consummate lunatics. Not that that stops the descent: "[My wife] was a model around the globe. She was on posters. Aye, I used to have a affiche of her in my garage. So I met her, can yous believe information technology? And she asked me to marry her, and I didn't even want to, merely she's beautiful, but she's dying. She's ill. She'southward hanging in there. It'southward hard. She's gonna get better. And I'thou rich. And I don't alive in a hotel." —Dollinger

11. "Light amplification by stimulated emission of radiation Spine Specialists" (Season 1, Episode 3)

Information technology seems similar one of those medical ads you see on Television set all the fourth dimension, until Tim Robinson shows upwards and escalates in the most unexpected ways. Commencement, Laser Spine Specialists accept given his character the renewed strength to fight his wife's new married man, Danny Crouse. And then he testifies to being able to lift his adult son over his head ("And there ain't shit he can exercise about information technology"). Finally, in a truly sublime turn, the advertisement basically stops birthday and turns into a pastiche of a man confronting a sleazy record producer (Robbie Star from Superstar Tracks Records) who'southward bilked him out of thousands of dollars.

The final plow of genius here comes when the Laser Spine Specialists logo creeps back into the bottom-correct corner of the screen, a subtle reminder that oh aye, that'southward how this whole thing started. —Gruttadaro

10. "Insider Trading" (Flavor 2, Episode 3)

What begins as a couple of coworkers on trial for insider trading soon pivots into a merciless roast of i guy'southward questionable mode sense. Every bit the prosecutor reads through one of the workers' text letters, the chat lingers on Brian (Robinson), who shows up to their function with a stupid hat. The icing on the cake comes back in the courtroom, when Brian comes into focus, still wearing that fuckin' hat:

It'due south somehow as awful every bit advertised, a fedora with safari flaps in the back. As Brian gets more than uncomfortable in the courtroom, the texting transcript piles on the fedora-related indignities. By the time Brian gets angry in a meeting because he was asked to take the hat off (which he then tried to roll down his arm similar Fred Astaire), I was guilty of secondhand embarrassment. —Surrey

9. "The Man" (Flavor ane, Episode two)

In a departure from his typical roles, Robinson plays the understated straight man here, ceding the part of "over-the-top, socially unacceptable outcast" to a boyfriend Saturday Night Alive veteran, Will Forte. Similar Robinson, Forte was a trivial as well weird and a niggling too loud to reach his full potential inside the constraints of SNL. He's flourished outside of that system, and he shows off his whole range in this single sketch, flitting from friendly to menacing to pathetic as he tries to verbal revenge on Robinson'due south character for crying on a transatlantic flight when he was a baby, which so exhausted Forte's character that he couldn't fulfill his dream of making the guards at Buckingham Palace express joy. By Season 1 standards, this is a adequately long and elaborate sketch. But Forte, who fits the ITYSL ethos as well as any invitee star in the series, lands the plane perfectly, even though he's prevented from sitting where he wants. —Lindbergh

eight. "Has This Ever Happened to You?" (Season 1, Episode ane)

Here'due south the lifetime leaderboard of Lawyers Whose Ads I've Seen the Most: Peter Francis Geraci'south in third. No. 2? Cellino and Barnes. But the new leader is Mitch Bryant, the Robinson character whose commercial comes on correct afterward the opening credits of the premiere episode. Bryant is seeking clients who have been terrorized by the Turbo Team, two burly men who will come to your business firm to prepare a termite problem, but instead yell at you for your lack of Turbo Squad membership and replace your existent toilet with a joke toilet that tin only suck down farts. As Robinson describes the Turbo Team's transgressions, he gets angrier and angrier until he tin barely exhale. I couldn't pick which is funnier—the Turbo Team'south escalation or Robinson's. —Sherman

7. "Sloppy Steaks" (Season ii, Episode two)

Do babies cry spontaneously, or is it because they know that yous used to be a piece of shit? That's the question driving Robinson'south character in this sketch, later he attends a baby shower and the infant in question starts bawling when he tries to hold it. "I'k worried that the baby thinks people tin't change," he tells the mother, a quote that's permanently lodged into my broken brain. Robinson and then goes into the details of his by life as a self-professed piece of shit: sporting slicked-back hair, rolling with his Unsafe Nights coiffure, and ordering sloppy steaks at Truffoni'south. It's the deranged fixation on sloppy steaks—as in, pouring a glass of h2o on a sizzling slab of meat in defiance of the restaurant owner—that draws you in, peculiarly when we're whisked into a flashback of just what a night of sloppy steaks at Truffoni'due south with the Dangerous Nights crew actually looks like. That the flashback is soundtracked by Ezra Koenig solidifies this sketch every bit an instant archetype. All that's left to do now is try a sloppy steak yourself. —Surrey

6. "Corncob TV" (Flavour 2, Episode i)

Nearly reality-television parodies are equally boringly manufactured as the shows that inspire them. But in typical ITYSL fashion, this one cranks upwardly the shock knob to dangerously explosive levels and, well, smashes through the genre'south staleness. Coffin Flop is exactly what information technology sounds similar: "Just hours and hours of footage of real people falling out of coffins at funerals," says Robinson, a Corncob TV exec who looks and sounds like the kind of guy who'd watch a lot of Corncob Goggle box. "In that location's no explanation."

And really, in that location doesn't demand to be. That's the beauty of the bit: It skewers the vulgarity of bad reality Boob tube while also kind of making the instance for it. Later all, who can look away from the sight of trunk after body busting out of shit wood and hitting pavement? —Siegel

v. "The Gift Receipt" (Flavour 1, Episode i)

"The Gift Receipt" starts small, with a uncomplicated and relatable feeling of insecurity: Lev (Robinson) realizes that the decorative wreath he bought for his friend Jacob (played by the delightful Steven Yeun, conferring Oscar-nominee grace and leading-man gravitas on this batshit absurdity) might not be a very proficient birthday gift. That insecurity leads to the crossing of a societal line: A self-conscious Lev demands the gift receipt dorsum, as proof that Jacob was telling the truth when he said he liked the gift. That doesn't assuage the insecurity, though; Lev persists, and heightens, and there'south the chip.

That'south simply the tree, though. What makes the sketch sing is all the garland and ornaments that Robinson hangs on it: Adding a petty-boy poop joke, then mutating that by turning poop into "mud pies," which subsequently becomes "such a sloppy mud pie"; the notion that the unit of measure out of toilet paper is the "slice"; a grown human being screaming, "NO, I eat paper all the time!" followed by a seemingly sane character suggesting a resolution that, in the involvement of scientific rigor, demands the ingestion of boosted paper. The complete devastation of a friend grouping; the horrified shriek humans tin can but emit when they've seen a dead torso. All this chaos, springing from that pocket-size kernel of self-doubt; all this laughter, coaxed out through an unyielding delivery to both throwing sliders with diction—fuckin' "mud pies," man—and exploring only how much Robinson can yell. (Answer: a lot.)

There'southward a reason this one closes the first episode of the series, I think: In construction and emphasis, it feels something like I Call back Yous Should Leave's mission statement, delivered loudly and unapologetically ... at a time when any normal person in your life would exist seriously atoning. —Devine

four. "Instagram" (Flavor ane, Episode 1)

1 incredibly hard thing I Think Y'all Should Leave manages to pull off is instituting its ain vocabulary, which and then infiltrates our larger lexicon. Mud pies; sloppy steaks; Turbo Time; 50 black, slicked-back-pilus wigs. "Instagram" is the sketch that's all vocabulary. As Vanessa Bayer's character tries to grasp her friends' concept of existence a picayune self-deprecating on social media, she unleashes a litany of gross terms and phrases that you'd never hear anywhere else but on this Boob tube testify. You know what? I'chiliad just gonna list out all the best ones:

"Slopping downwardly some pig shit with these fatty fucks, and I'g the fattest of them all."
"Load my frickin' lard carcass into the mud. No coffin, please!"
"Gulping down some pig dicks with these bags of meat."
"Sunday funday with these pig dicks."
"Hope nobody gulps us."
"Slurping downwards fish piss with these wet chodes."
"Total tuna cans."
"They're mad because I won Best Hog at the sus scrofa-shit-snarfing contest. But I'm non mad 'cause nosotros're all loads of beef, sitting on the side of a highway, getting our butts sucked by flies."

I just … it'due south and so beautiful. It's then strangely eloquent. It'south enough to make you lot cry. Bae. —Gruttadaro

3. "The Day That Robert Palins Murdered Me" (Season 1, Episode 5)

When a record company exec tells the auditioning band he's looking for something new and original—a direct parody of Walk the Line—frontman Billy (Rhys Coiro) shoots his shot with "The Day That Robert Palins Murdered Me." Billy's country crooning piques the exec's interest, but then his oblivious bassist (Robinson) jumps in with his ain lyrics—which to his credit are original. He shrieks virtually skeletons coming up from the ground to pull people'southward hair (up, not out), with lines such as "The worms are their money / the bones are their dollars," as well as my personal favorite, "They've never seen then much food equally this / Hush-hush there'due south one-half equally much food as this." It's utter nonsense, and information technology's utterly delightful. —Levy-Rubinett

2. "Brooks Brothers" (Season 1, Episode v)

There are many memeable bits in ITYSL—see directly to a higher place and below—just none so broadly applicable and then satisfying to reference every bit the 1 nearly the commuter of a hot domestic dog car who tries to gaslight the patrons of an upscale clothing shop (and sort of succeeds). On paper, at that place'south no style this sketch should piece of work so well. Simply Robinson sells it and then hard, and the visual gags are and so good, that it's one of the virtually memorable moments in a season stuffed with them. The surprise reveals of Robinson in his costume—yelling "Aye, whoever did this just confess, nosotros promise we won't exist mad"—and innocent bystander/series co-creator Zach Kanin in his hot-dog-side by side attire are topped simply past the sketch'south signature line, "We're all trying to find the guy who did this." In real life, the grifters are less likely to drive Wienermobiles, but their schemes are sometimes just as transparent—and just equally liable to piece of work anyway. —Lindbergh

1. "Focus Group" (Season 1, Episode 3)

Serenity, subtle moments aren't I Call up Yous Should Leave'southward strong adjust. When I think about "Focus Group" now, though, several million viewings later, what I go on coming back to is the style information technology primes the pump.

Robinson introduces the premise: Ford is soliciting ideas from the public for a new automobile model. And and then, on the 2nd cutting introducing us to the members of the focus group, about 10 seconds in, there he is:

Bam. Eye of the frame, crystal clear, a magnet drawing your eye: Ruben Rabasa, an actor with nearly a one-half century of credits, but 1 you feel positive you've never seen before, because simply expect at this dude. If you'd seen him earlier, y'all'd remember it.

The shot lingers on Rabasa for a beat, giving y'all a second to really drinkable in his presence equally he looks across the table. At that moment, you lot don't know that he'south looking at Paul, played past Kanin, who will shortly become his nemesis in "wanting to practise good at something that just doesn't matter"—precisely the sort of making-molehills-into-mountains thematic bull'south-centre that this evidence and so oft aims for and hits. You don't know nevertheless that Rabasa'due south mere seconds away from unleashing an avalanche of memeable moments like arguing for the necessity of sturdily constructed steering wheels in cars deliberately made besides small, all delivered in an utterly infectious emphasis that's equally powerful when raised to yell "STINKY!" and lowered to hiss "Who'south the near popular now, Paul?" You could not possibly conceptualize the dab, or the bottle flip.

All you know, correct then, is that you've never seen anything quite similar this guy, and you're already laughing, even if you don't exactly get why. In other words: It'south the perfect standard-bearer for a sketch bear witness blissfully and brilliantly dissimilar any other. "We're looking at the monitor while you're shooting, and it's like having Brad Pitt," ITYSL executive producer Akiva Schaffer told Vulture in 2019. "Every shot is already the funniest sketch I've ever seen." —Devine

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Source: https://www.theringer.com/tv/2021/7/20/22583930/i-think-you-should-leave-sketches-ranking-season-2-ranked