American Gods lost all suspension of disbelief when Shadow Moon (ugh) ate three Culver’s butterburgers and hopped back in his car for a long-ass road trip without an entire chapter dedicated to his subsequent befouling of a rest stop with greasier shits than the time Mr. Wednesday accidentally got into the mistletoe. It was in that moment that I realized that Neil Gaiman was a hack who only did cursory research.

And god damn him for tainting Good Omens.