DAILY PODCAST: Buford Justice And The Chosen Floaters | The Rizzuto Comedy Show

What happens when you combine expired temp tags, full-contact leopards, a 7UP identity crisis, celebrity tipping drama, six Trans Ams, Burt Reynolds stories, and the real-life return of Buford T. Justice? You get The Rizzuto Show doing what it does best: taking perfectly reasonable topics and absolutely refusing to discuss them reasonably.

This collection of Rizz Show chaos starts with the crew discovering they somehow won a St. Louis Magazine A-List award — despite apparently being among the last people to find out. The celebration lasts approximately long enough for Missouri’s expired temporary tags to become the next emergency, especially when Rafe admits his own tags are expired. Suddenly, the guy complaining about the system becomes the poster child for it and begins framing his procrastination as a form of peaceful protest. Gandhi had the Salt March. Rafe has paperwork sitting somewhere in his house.

From there, things only get more responsible.

We encounter a man accused of deploying homemade spike strips to stop people from crossing his lawn, which naturally leads to a serious legal analysis based almost entirely on Home Alone. Another story involves a driver allegedly taking “good morning” as fighting words. Creep Corner opens its doors. The Town Crier gets involved. And eventually we arrive at FULL CONTACT LEOPARDS, because apparently humans weren't generating enough bad decisions on their own.

Then comes an existential crisis nobody saw coming:

7UP is changing.

The legendary lemon-lime soda is going more lime-forward, sending the crew directly into an ’80s and ’90s nostalgia vortex. Suddenly we're talking about the Uncola, old 7UP glasses, Sega Genesis and the greatest red dot ever to wear sunglasses: Cool Spot.

Bring him back, cowards.

That trip down memory lane also resurrects Smart cars and other vehicles disappearing from the automotive landscape before Crap on Celebrities takes over. Matthew McConaughey explains how a Jennifer Lopez name-drop once helped him during a traffic stop in Mexico, Barbie sequel negotiations involve enormous amounts of money, and the crew gets into Spider-Man, Ted Lasso, Axl Rose, boring movies and whether killing a dog in a movie should automatically earn an R rating.

But then we stumble into a game that could sustain this show for the next decade: Good Tipper or Bad Tipper?

The crew reacts to online anecdotes about celebrity tipping involving Shaq, Post Malone, Miley Cyrus, David Lee Roth, Dave Chappelle, Scottie Pippen, JLo, Jack Black, Bruce Willis, 50 Cent, Stanley Tucci and more. Some stories restore our faith in famous people. Others give us No Tippin' Pippen, and honestly, that's enough cultural achievement for one episode.

And then things go eastbound and down.

Sean and Jason — the guys bringing Sheriff Buford T. Justice and Junior Justice back to life — walk into the studio looking like Smokey and the Bandit escaped the screen and wandered into The Rizzuto Show.

Sean even arrives in full Buford mode with a lit cigarette.

Nobody tells Sheriff Justice what to do.

The guys tell the incredible story of how their Smokey and the Bandit tribute work grew from reenactments and car shows into Sheriff Justice: The Series, a prequel exploring Buford and Junior before their legendary pursuit of the Bandit. They explain how Sedalia, Missouri became the production home, why they're committed to preserving the spirit of Jackie Gleason and Mike Henry's original performances, and how the families connected to those actors have supported what they're doing.

Then we get to the cars.

Vintage vehicles. Classic cop cars. Period-correct backgrounds. A Trans Am personally autographed by Burt Reynolds.

Oh, and Jason owns six Trans Ams, because apparently some people actually achieve their childhood dreams instead of just buying another commemorative T-shirt.

Sean also shares what it was like spending a week around Burt Reynolds at a film festival shortly before Reynolds passed away. That leads to stories about Burt's legendary ability to entertain a room, his willingness to tell stories where he wasn't necessarily the hero, and why the man's combination of charisma, cowboy hats, mustaches and muscle cars permanently rewired an entire generation.

The nostalgia continues with Paul Williams — Little Enos himself — immediately slipping back into character when he encountered Sean and Jason at a convention. The production stories get even crazier when we learn they filmed through a reported