He will swallow the souls of every human being as he mercilessly destroys every last vestige of civilization to ever have existed on this planet, but until then, in his house, Puppet-thulhu waits dreaming... of your calls.
Cthulhu being reduced to answering phone-in questions (and in frighteningly adorable puppet form) is the ultimate irony of ironies. The most powerful Elder God in all the universe has insomnia and can’t seem to get his tentacles on a bottle of NyQuil, so he now passes his non-Euclidean existence on air, listening to mere mortals with every pathetic query and inconsequential question from dating woes to how you change icons on Windows XP, all to the tune of a theme song that echoes the elevator music of ‘70s and ‘80s talk shows.
So what kind of eldritch etiquette do you have to keep in mind when calling Cthulhu?
First of all, bear in mind that this omnipotent and omniscient entity thinks your soul is as addictive as caffeine or marshmallow Peeps. Meaning, you don’t want to find yourself on the wrong tentacle. So no telemarketers. If you are a telemarketer and you unknowingly plunge into your own doom, when Cthulhu starts to change color like a cuttlefish, know that you are now seconds away from having your soul sucked out through the phone. You also never put someone with the potential to create confetti out of your flesh and sanity on hold. Even if you approach him with the trembling awe befitting a Great Old One, he will still swallow your soul.
Imminent danger aside, what’s any talk show without segments? Watch the not-so-jolly green giant try his tentacles at cooking (still no word on how exactly to prepare a soul) on Cooking With Cthulhu. There’s also the Cthluhu Mailbag, which brings some pretty damaging blackmail photos to the surface, and onscreen appearances from Xenu, the Grim Reaper and the devil himself. Some entities apparently have a problem with Cthulhu putting them out of business by eating souls before they can reap them. Even that doesn’t make the enormous mollusk quiver. What does, though, is his own mother—because apparently someone spawned him—publicly shaming him on national television because he doesn’t call home nearly as often as his arch-nemesis Hastur.
You will want to marathon all 11 episodes of this talk show monstrosity while sending a silent prayer to the Elder Gods that Cthluhu will someday be available to take your calls.