Heavy Metal isn't fair.
Randy Rhoads died in a fiery plane crash.
Cliff Burton bit it under a tour bus.
...Yet Brett Michaels manages to survive long enough to bang mansions of whores on TV for seasons on end, long after he is relevant to pop culture, youth, music or anything else for that matter (he never was that relevant to metal.)
Such it is with television. The really good shows always get cancelled. Todd and the Book of Pure Evil got the ax after Season 2, making way for what? Another ugly group of 20-somethings to televise their gonorrheal transmissions over and over until another Oompa Loompa gets pregnant? For shame.
I'm not going to tell you what it's about, the above photo gives you enough information. All I can say is it's like a mashup between Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV) and a Kevin Smith flick. But better. The series is on Netflix. Stream it now, let the evil fill your veins and then #SupportTodd on twitter. Don't let good TV die, tell everyone you want more Todd.
Randy and Cliff would have wanted it that way.