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What do you mean when you say ARE YOU KIDDING ME about the historic town in in Hungary? I am not kidding, sir. It's Pápa.

WHO THE HELL KNOWS that tributary in Russia? Everyone, of course. Mama!

I HAVEN'T GOT A CLUE about the village in Poland? I'll give you one: Pápa and Mama get together to make …

No, not sweet sweet love! I mean, yes, but ...

They make a NANA? What are you talking about? Oh, because it follows the consonant-duplication and A alternation pattern? That idea is pure kaka, and I say ta-ta to you.

There is GAGA, though. And the village in Poland is Baby! See what a helpful clue I gave you?

It did take me roughly eighty-nine hours to find the Pápa, Mama, Baby pattern (thanks a lot, Bing, or should I say Bing-a-ling), but it was totally not unworthy of the unfound negative antitime I didn't have. It would have been delightful to have PAPA, MAMA, BABY woven into the grid somewhere; an Easter egg for those of you so brilliant that it only took eighty-eight hours to find that pattern.

Just three themers is a bare minimum these days, so I expect a juicy grid chock full of sparklers, with zero dabs of glue to hold everything together. I loved Scotty and the ENGINE ROOM, and there's something so Merrellesque about BLOODSTAIN clued as a laundry problem for Dracula.

I did want more, though, as DUFFEL BAG and INTENTION aren't entries you'd write home about. And the amassment of AGIN, HOU, VSO, ETHNO GEIST ires me. Another round of revision would be appreciated. I would have asked for more optimal spacing of the long downs, alternating them up down up down, creating more space between BLOODSTAIN and INTENTION.

I love me some Mad Magazine, so I was delighted to learn about John's role. Hopefully, I don't make next month's cover.

All in all, a curious concept that grew on me after I learned of the Pápa, Mama, Baby connection.

– puzzle by John Ficarra and Patrick Merrell

English majors and their willful ignorance of basic microeconomics! I doubt you could even buy a vowel for FIVE DOLLARs these days, much less a fancy-pants word. I wonder what five dollars bought back when this term was coined. Probably a manse, a horse and buggy, and you'd still get a bag of gold dust in return.

Reminds me of when my just-out-of-school brother-in-law had a delicious meal and a cold beer and said, "I feel like a hundred bucks!" Chris could have bought twenty juicy words that night.

It's a shame that the term isn't FOUR DOLLAR WORDS, since NOTE, BUCK, BILL, and CLAM all fit so tidily into single squares (if you write carefully). Not so much with SINGLE. Jamming six letters into a SINGLE square is bonkers, which is why Will Shortz almost always sticks to shorter rebus words.

As an embarrassingly bad bridge player, SINGLETON came easily to me. I'm not sure how common that term is outside the bridge world, but then again, if you don't play bridge, you're of no consequence.

I appreciate when rebus squares are worked into both long across and long down entries. It'd be easier to do the bare minimum with shorties like (BILL)ED or (NOTE)LL, so I enjoyed the pairings of ICE (BUCK)ET CHALLENGE and BUCKAROO, as well as HORN(BILL) and (BILL) MAHER.

(NOTE)LL … I usually love rebuses where the word is disguised this well. It stuck out today, though, since the rest of the rebuses read as individual words, or at least identifiable syllables.

With so many long rebus entries—many of which crossed each other — it wasn't surprising to get a logjam of BOR DEG ELAM (I finished with an error, ELAH / NO TELL HOTEL) ETO, etc. If I had five dollars for every dab of crossword glue …

I'd have preferred a scaled-back version, perhaps with a simpler DOLLAR revealer and four rebuses (no SINGLE), since the term FIVE DOLLAR WORDS didn't do anything for me. Still, I can appreciate the audacity of the concept.

– puzzle by Evan Mahnken

I can't live … with or withooooooout you … Welcome to today's edition of blogaraoke!

How interesting, that Romeo and Juliet's last names both become normal words if you remove the U! And it's so appropriate, given the lyric "I can't live, WITH OR WITHOUT YOU."

Wait. Doesn't that mean you can't live … period?

U2, J'accUUse!

As much as I enjoy mini-themes in my themeless, this was a too much of a good thing. A perfect mini-theme is two (maybe three) themers connected in a funny or thought-provoking way, while still giving the rest of the puzzle plenty of space in which to pack greatness. This one, with 44 squares of theme, would be light for a themed puzzle, but not unheard of.

So why didn't it run on a Wednesday? The theme, while covering a lot of squares, is far from meaty--more a piece of trivia than the basis for a full themed puzzle. It wouldn't have kept my attention if it had been the sole focus of a Wednesday puzzle.

Perhaps a better compromise would have been to only use MONTAGUE and CAPULET, with the Us grayed out. The clue could run double-duty, MONTAGUE = [Romeo's family / director's tool]. It's not a perfect solution, but it would have still presented the interesting find, while clearing out more space for our regularly televised themeless.

Astute readers may cry foul that MONTAGUE and CAPULET aren't symmetrical. Jeff demands symmetry, I hear you shout! Yes, but I can be flexible. I don't always need perfect symmetry. I'm not that anal.

(three hours later, after laying out hundreds of various configurations to achieve some sense of symmetry …)

Some may wonder about UPSET ALERTS. Jim Horne asked me if that's a thing. For bracketologists, it's definitely a (most unwelcome) thing. ESPN even has a feature called "Upset Alerts." I can understand how non-March Madness enthusiasts wouldn't enjoy this entry, though.

There is some great fill, like PIECE OF CAKE, the oh-so-catchy MY SHARONA, CORNERSTONE with a great clue about where to look for a (not a love connection) date. I just wanted A BIT MUCH more, since material like TRACES TO, TASTES OF, LETS DRY, GINGERED didn't add to the solve.

– puzzle by Joe Deeney

★ Every Wednesday, I have the pleasure of exchanging thoughts with Jim Horne about a full week worth of puzzles, and it's rare that we agree on which is the standout (if any). I prefer when we laud different puzzles, because Jim often presents a viewpoint I hadn't considered.

Groan, thanks a lot, Yacob, we both thought your puzzle was stellar. Now what are Jim and I supposed to argue about?

Yacob got in touch with me a few months before he submitted this one, asking for feedback. My first impression was that he showed a tremendous amount of talent and that his draft already had a decent shot at acceptance. It had a different SW, and a slightly different SE, though, and I thought it needed improvement.

Often, constructors don't listen to me and just submit. I'm not offended — I'm often wrong, after all — but why ask me if you're not going to at least consider critique? Yacob did everything right. He absorbed my comments, went away for a few weeks, and vastly improved the SW corner. I rarely tell constructors that they have a high chance of acceptance with Will, but this was one instance I was nearly sure Will would say yes.

Fantastic cluing, too. "Pen pals" for CELLMATES. "Barb" making you think about a verbal jab instead of a literal jab from a BLOWDART. I hope you don't [… incur charges overseas] ON SAFARI!

One oddity: the final grid Yacob sent me had a different — and better — southeast corner. As I solved, I noted the weirdness of BATE and LATEN, and confusion set in. I surely would have noted those and recommended he revise, since that region is somewhat flexible. Looking back upon his submission, I noticed that his corner was superior to what was run. Yacob doesn't exactly remember what happened, but he thinks he made a last-minute change before submitting.

Alas! Nothing's perfect. So close, though.

– puzzle by Yacob Yonas

Me: These days, I usually experience anxiety before starting an NYT Sunday puzzle, because it too often feels like a slog. I enjoyed this one.

Jim Horne: I did, too. Straight over the plate theme, but the solve felt fun and entertaining the entire way through.

Me: Did you feel like the theme wasn't tight enough?

(Jim's head: Always looking for nits to pick, eh Jeff? Can't you just enjoy?)

Jim: It worked for me.

Me: But some of the examples were so loosely tied together. "Single quote" and "Just saying," for example. The former is a copyediting/punctuation term, and the latter is something people say.

(Jim's head: Who thinks like this? What's the point of such overanalysis? Who's going to care, as long as it's fun?)

Jim: (looking at fingernails during awkward Skype silence)

Me: I'm not sure how to even explain the concept. What's a concise way of telling readers what the theme is all about?

(Jim's head: It's obvious! It's … all related to talking. No, that's not quite it. All the theme clues are playing off commonly said expressions. Well, no, Jeff does have a point about "single quote," I suppose he is even more brilliant than he thinks he is, which is already quite a stratospheric level. No, wait! I think I have it! It's "every final word of the theme clues are synonyms for "something you say." Although, a "sentence" is more written than spoken. So that doesn't quite work. Huh.)

Jim: Ah, Jeff. It's one of those things that if you have to ask …

(Jeff's head: Think of something brilliant to say, dummy!)

Jeff: … … …

Jeff: … so … STILETTOED isn't part of the theme, then?

It's not a groundbreaking theme, but not every Sunday should be. Once Jim Horne's head finally figured out how the theme (mostly) worked, it felt a lot stronger. And Jim Peredo's gridwork was better than average for a Sunday NYT. A few good bonuses like BODY ODOR as a [Secret target] and EL DORADO as the Poe poem, and not many dabs of glue.

Straight over the plate is a good thing for many solvers.

– puzzle by Jim Peredo

I never saw the twist coming, Scrooge being THE DEVIL Bob Crachit knew, but his wife — MRS CRATCH — being THE DEVIL he didn't. Reminds me of how Malaysia recently put out a PSA telling wives to not nag their husbands during COVID-19 lockdown.

Like Malaysia, I'll now apologize.

I researched SATAN for a crossword years ago but ultimately decided that focusing on THE DEVIL was too much of a downer. I want my crosswords to be heavenly, not six (million) feet under. I'm also a complete wuss when it comes to all things supernatural. He (or She, in the case of Mrs. Cratch) Who Shall Not Be Named, begone!

At first, I thought it would be more fun if THE DEVIL were revealed in a more clever way. Putting his (or her) name in shaded letters is like painting a giant pentagram on your forehead with the blood of a still-bleating goat. After some thought though, I appreciated SPEAK OF THE DEVIL, because it's exactly what Andrea and Brian (dare to) do. Better them than me!

To be safe, I left all the themers blank in my puzzle, so H(oS)WSNBN will be less likely to hear his name invoked and thus follow me into the bathroom in the middle of the night when I get up to pee. Take that, BEELZEBUB!

Aargh, I said his name! Now I'll have to hold it in as I pull the sheets up over my head and hide.

You think I'm joking.

Andrea and Brian went one step further by crossing LUTHERAN with THE DEVIL. Throw in ALEXA, who knows the meaning of life, and you've got yourself an excellent joke setup. The devil, a Lutheran, and Alexa walk into a bar ...

An odd choice to headline old Scratch and his various nicknames, but it works as a theme. Less devilish fill would have been better for a Monday though, AEON FLUX crossing ECOLE possibly tripping up solvers. And KOLN's clue, [City involving crazy trivia that no one would know] reminded me of last week's April Fool's Day puzzle.

– puzzle by Andrea Carla Michaels and Brian Thomas

(Body part) IN THE (place). Easy enough theme to explain! It's much tougher to figure out why it didn't work as well as I wanted, though.

Tightness is highly desirable in a theme. If you can't think of any other phrases that would work, that's a mark of success. It took me a long time to find others, and they weren't all great. HANDS IN THE AIR (like you don't care — word up!), FACE IN THE CROWD, EYE IN THE SKY.

Although Trent's three themers are fairly tight, they're missing something: an a-ha element. Tightness isn't enough, if the given pattern isn't that interesting. It needed some other layer, perhaps a progression of CLOUDS to GROUND to … HELL? GRAVE? Hmm. that doesn't work.

Ah! How about having all places up above? For instance, EYE IN THE SKY, HEAD IN THE CLOUDS … is NOSE IN THE AIR legit? Not sure, but that sort of extra layer makes a theme stand out.

With just three themers, I expect a sparkly and smooth grid. Trent did well with the former, treating us to WATCHDOG, NERDFEST, ODWALLA, and my favorite, OUTATIME. What can I say, I'm an 80's movie fanboy.

As for the latter, the grid would have been fine if this had been a later-week puzzle, where experienced solvers wouldn't even think once about HORA ROTI ONEL LOUPE. For newbs, though, these can make a puzzling experience … puzzling.

Even the cluing felt too tough. OSHA or the FDA are WATCHDOGs, yes, but why not a clever clue that's easier and more fun for newer solvers? You could play on "boxer" as a type of dog, for instance.

It's a fun start of a theme concept, but it could have used more brainstorming to help it evolve and flourish.

– puzzle by Trent H. Evans

We all know that Will Shortz is a table tennis fanatic, playing every day religiously. (What's he doing all day while quarantined? Working on trick shots, I bet.) But he has a dirty little secret: he's a bowling nut. Completely obssessed!

I jest. Maybe. Three bowling puzzles — this one, a rebus, and a Sunday visual puzzle — within the span of roughly half a year? Perhaps Will just loves the fashionable shoes.

For regular solvers, today's puzzle might have felt repetitive, but I did appreciate that my previous experience enabled me to drop in TURKEY without hesitating. I still had to look up what a TURKEY was (a guy who wears bowling shoes out in public — I'm talking to you, Seattle hipsters), but I didn't give it the side-eye this time!

At first, I wondered why Sam didn't place the themers in sequence. Jim Horne and I discussed in great detail how to describe this theme and eventually decided that it's because there is no sequence. Never mind!

I couldn't get my head to shut up after Jim and I de-Zoomed, though. It finally dawned on me that there isn't a sequence ... but there is an ordering. Worst result is a SPLIT, then a SPARE, a STRIKE, and best of all, a TURKEY.

Order in the alley!

Intersecting the four themers with BOWLING ALLEY is mildly interesting. It's amazing that Sam got it to work — with the four bowling terms all starting their phrases! However, I'd prefer a more standard grid layout (all themers horizontal), using worst to best ordering, for a neat and tidy presentation. That would have also allowed more flexibility so that every themer could stick to the singular.

To be clear, Sam's choice is valid. Along with stellar gridwork (bonuses like DRUMPAD and BOO BIRDS just to start) and meticulous attention to detail (only some ETAT RTE YDS), I could see some solvers asking, "What the hell is Jeff's problem?"

I'm happy to answer, if you have ten hours.

If you're looking for distractions while house-bound, check out Pongfinity, one of my favorite YouTube channels. They take on all sorts of ridiculous challenges, including playing with chopsticks, a la Mr. Miyagi. I'm hoping their next challenge is to play with a bowling ball!

I may be watching too much YouTube during this shelter-in-place ...

– puzzle by Sam Buchbinder

In high-echelon puzzling circles, crosswords are disdained, treated as pooh-poohed poo caked onto the gumshoe's shoe. Crosswords? Crosswords? Why don't you do some word searches? How about a spot the differences? I have a few Highlights magazines that might occupy your tiny pea brain for an hour.

Thankfully, I run with a group of humble solvers who love complex puzzles and aren't afraid to admit being completely stumped. We work our asses off, familiarizing ourselves with any code ever devised, memorizing alphanumeric substitutions so we can reel off the fact that Q = 17^th letter of the alphabet, letters in ASCII tables are coded from 65 to 90, and communicating easily in tap code.

So it's particularly embarrassing that I couldn't come up with the letter represented by a single MORSE CODE dash. A single dot? Easy! It's E, appropriate for easy. A dash … should be a common letter. S! No, that's dash dash dash, as in the dash dash dash dot dot dot dash dash dash of S O S.

(Astute reader Larry Byrd points out that I got that wrong. It's dot dot dot, dash dash dash, dot dot dot. D'oh d'oh d'oh!)

R? The first free letter they give you in "Wheel of Fortune"?

L, as in long?

My team just assigned me dog poo duty.

Point is, I don't know how many solvers will make the connection, that the dots and dashes in the theme clues stand for Es and Ts, respectively. Listed out:

• -able = Table = PUT ON HOLD
• Big nos. = Big nose = SCHNOZZOLA (do people say this these days?)
• Op-ed = Opted = MADE A CHOICE
• Mil. post, say = Mile post = ROAD MARKER

Luckily, Alex's gridwork was so stellar that my solving experience was still pleasant. I completed it as I would a themeless — a strong themeless at that — and enjoyed so much of NAUTILI, OPTIMISM, DISCO ERA, SLEEP LAB, MY FAULT that the theme didn't matter.

Adding DOT (clued as [E, in MORSE CODE]) and DASH (clued as [T, in MORSE CODE]) into the grid would have helped immensely. That would have presented some construction difficulty, but making the theme work is well worth the price of fewer great bonuses.

– puzzle by Alex Eaton-Salners

★ Huge kudos to Kevin Der and Finn Vigeland for putting together an impromptu online tournament — taking just over a week to do it! Kevin asked if I wanted to be involved, but I sadly had to decline because of two (toddling, loud, attention-seeking, messy, not-staying-away-from-my-computer) reasons. Although I missed out on the live event, I went back and watched parts of the live stream. So entertaining!

In a time when we all so badly need distraction, I salute those that make it happen. Because of that, I was predisposed to like today's puzzle. Then, the flood of fantastic entries and clever clues made it rise head and shoulders above any other puzzle this week.

This grid is a layout all budding themeless constructors should study. All sections are well-connected, making for fine solving flow, and to Byron's point, it's possible to (sort of) subdivide the five regions—the four corners plus the middle—by choosing strategic seed entries.

Once you land on a set of four long intersecting answers (WIFI PASSWORD, STEM PIPELINE, MARSHMALLOWS, HEPPLEWHITE) that test out well, you can work nearly independently on each section. Rigorous testing is critical, though, since some quartets of seed entries will allow for great fill in some corners but will cause trouble in others.

What beautiful entries everywhere. WIFI PASSWORD was my favorite, but every corner contained so much color. COP SHOWS, THEOREMS as those having something to prove, TINY TOON, VERY EASY.

Even better: there were so many clever clues that I stopped counting, amazed at the wealth of riches. Describing TSA as "wanders" — those who use wands — might elicit groans, but for me, it was clue of the year territory.

I can't applaud enough the work that Kevin, Finn, and everyone involved put in. Warms my heart to see such efforts in these trying times.

– puzzle by Byron Walden

I thought "Gangnam Style" was a once-in-a-lifetime blockbuster, but DESPACITO has nearly twice as many views. After listening to it, I can understand why. It's so catchy! (Of the 6+ billion YouTube views, one billion are mine. Thanks a lot, Eric and Wyna!)

By design, Saturday puzzles are the most difficult of the NYT crossweek. How hard is too hard, though? I usually finish the Saturday in about 15 minutes, but today, I finally finished the right half at the 20 minute mark. I hate giving up, so I pushed through, finishing in roughly 40 minutes. That puts it several standard deviations out, in the far tail of my normal distribution.

Appropriately, DESPACITO translates to "slowly."

Why was it so tough? Part of that is on me, as DESPACITO didn't fall until I had most of the squares, and although I've heard of Chamillionaire (fantastic name!), RIDIN rode off into the sunset only after bucking this cowboy off and dragging him by a foot caught in a stirrup.

(Researching RIDIN led me down a rabbit hole to Old Town Road—what other great songs have I missed?)

Another reason was the incredibly tough cluing. Who makes the destination of their vacation an INN? Aren't most INNs akin to motels? ATE DINNER as [Tucked in at night?] … what does that mean? Google shows that "tuck in" can mean "eat." Huh.

I'll get a lot of questions about HALOGEN, too. Chemistry was one of my favorite subjects all the way through college, and I could barely make sense of [I, for one]. No doubt it's a clever attempt at wordplay, but asking even seasoned solvers to make the connection that 1.) I stands for iodine in the periodic table, and 2.) that iodine is one of the HALOGEN elements — that's beyond tough.

Similarly, STREET MAPS tried to play on "miniature blocks," misdirecting to LEGOs. A map as a "holder" felt like an Elastigirl-level stretch, though.

I did enjoy a lot of feature entries, DARN TOOTIN and AMEN TO THAT so fun to say. I wish the puzzle hadn't gone to 11, though, as that took away some of the solving entertainment. I wonder how many experienced Saturday solvers will throw in the towel.

– puzzle by Erik Agard and Wyna Liu

My editor over at HarperCollins is so tactful with his critiques. He does everything right, from starting and ending with positives to framing the ugly aspects as room for improvement. He'd say something like this today:

Such a fun concept! Who would have thought of taking something so mundane as a shift at Starbucks and making a story out of it?

Delightful use of common phrases reinterpreted in amusing, barista-related ways. I can just imagine a frazzled trainee having SPILLED THE BEANS everywhere, that being GROUNDS FOR FIRING.

Starting with SPILLED THE BEANS and finishing with GOT IN HOT WATER, that's pretty good, although ending with GROUNDS FOR FIRING might be stronger.

The middle could use more development. I'd like to see a more step-by-step progression in the story, making for a meatier experience. While the phrases are entertaining, they're more a loose collection of short stories than a true novel. Think about ordering the events to build more tension and then resolution.

I didn't understand why they RAN OUT OF STEAM, but then at the end, they GOT INTO HOT WATER. How did they get more steam?

All in all, a concept with strong potential. I'd like to see you revise the storyline before I can commit to a contract.

At this point, most writers go through a multi-stage process, starting from "curled up in the fetal position" to "banging head against wall" to "yelling that the feedback is stupid" to "just buy the damn thing already" to eight more steps covering denial and anger. Sometimes there's even a glimmer of light after all this, and you get back on the horse!

Or you just keep curled in the fetal position. It's cozy like that.

Overall, an amusing solve that worked at about 80%, most of the missing 20% involving giving the story more depth. I appreciated the meticulous craftsmanship, though, such little glue and so many bonuses (EARTH DAY, FIFTH AVE, PHONE TAG, PRESS BOX, RAIN DATE, STEALTHY!) helping that 80% measurement creep higher.

– puzzle by Joel Fagliano

DROPS to TRICKLE to STREAM to RIVER to FLOOD to OCEAN … sounds like the dream I had last night (after drinking a big mug of tea just before bed). Great progression that felt almost exponential. Ooh! Wouldn't it be interesting to plot the volumetric flow on a log scale?

Well, you're no fun.

I appreciated the consistency of TRICKLE, STREAM, RIVER, and FLOOD, all being part of a longer word. Evan could have relaxed his constraints to use RIVER RAT or FLOOD PLAIN, but those wouldn't have felt as elegant. I also liked how this methodology helped to disguise the theme a hair. Not enough so that newer solvers wouldn't figure it out, but enough to please more experienced puzzlers.

Such newb-friendly gridwork. Evan has put a lot of time and effort into honing his craft, and it shows. I can't point out a single entry that would prevent me from handing this over to a newb. The DVRS / VENTI cross could be tough, but it's fair.

I did have a couple of false starts, kicking things off with DRIBS and then DRIPS instead of DROPS. That's not a great way to start the puzzle. As cute as it might seem to relate the clues for DROPS and OCEAN — [Minute bits of water] and [Massive body of water] — a more straightforward clue for 1-Across would have been better. Who calls a drop a "bit"?

I also tripped on TALL ONES, first entering PITCHERS, then TALL BOYS. Similarly with HAIRLOSS, where I first put in HAIRLINE. I did enjoy so much great fill — HEDONISTIC HAN SOLO! — but sometimes I wonder if too much of it on a Monday can be overwhelming; a flood of riches.

I was mixed on the DROPS / OCEAN bookending. They did help alert me to the progression, but they took away from the theme's consistency. TRICKLE, STREAM, RIVER, FLOOD are integrated into longer words, so having DROPS and OCEAN as stand-alones felt dissonant.

Sometimes extras can muddy the waters. They can even make you take a BATH.

Hey, what's BATH doing in the middle of the puzzle? SEAS of confusion ...

Okay, I'll turn off the faucet!

Despite my feeble attempts at humor, this is an excellent Monday offering. On some weeks, I'd give it the POW!

– puzzle by Evan Kalish

MINDBENDING is right! You don't even have to squint to see four fingers curled down, and a MIDDLE finger pointed straight up. I wanted to give this puzzle the POW! because it makes me laugh at how Will Shortz will respond to letters from shocked solvers. Will it be:

1. Whoops! I never noticed that.
2. Get your mind out of the gutter. It's simply a hand. Speaking of hand, talk to it.
3. A subversive grin.

Whatever the case may be (I'm hoping for number 3), this puzzle displays another point of uniqueness: no symmetry. At first glance, it looked like regular symmetry, but it quickly dawned on me that it's not just one or two blocks shifted to make the theme possible. It's complete chaos. It's like Loki made the puzzle and then flipped Asgard the bird.

Surprisingly, I didn't mind the irregularity. It's almost … bold. Not only do no theme entries match in length, but the blocks in the center don't even come close to matching up. Nor do the sets of blocks on the left and right. Or the ones on the top and bottom.

I suppose it is appropriate, since in real life, every finger is distinctive. Why not fully thumb your nose at convention?

Jim Horne and I sometimes discuss whether or not the symmetry rules that were put in place long ago should be relaxed, more a rule of thumb. Symmetry does lend elegance to a puzzle, an aesthetic quality that's so pleasing. However, once in a while, I welcome something that blows up the standards.

Not your father's crossword, that's for sure. If it had been cleaner — too much AERO ATA DOA ECCO EGAL ITGO SSA — I would have given it the POW! for its distinctiveness. Easier said than done, though. The constraints are tough enough that getting the theme to work, period — symmetry be damned — that achieving a smooth grid would make even the most experienced constructors raise that MIDDLE finger. A memorable debut.

– puzzle by Joe Hansen

It felt fitting to end this theme with THE NSA. They're everywhere — especially in (A)THENSA!

John-Clark and I brainstorm upon tons of ideas. For this one, the (H)OLDS OUT to OLD SOUT(H) pair stood out, but there weren't many other long ones. We tried combining pairs into longer phrases for kooky results, but EMANATE MANATEE! wouldn't exactly wow anyone.

Not only that, but would solvers even notice what was going on? Would they groan, thinking it's yet another anagrams puzzle? And would it even be possible to create a grid with enough pairs to be interesting?

After some consideration, I sadly moved it into my "not worthy of a full crossword" graveyard.

But John-Clark is persistent. He thought it would make for an engaging solve, and picked out a few pairs as an example set. I was doubtful that it was possible, given that it would need to feature HEAD TO TOE somewhere, and also integrate at least three pairs of themers. Seven themers in a mirror symmetry arrangement? Impossible!

Well, not impossible. Improbable. Improbable, in terms of making a high quality grid, that is.

Long story short, Will Shortz liked the idea, but not the cramped grid I laid out. High-quality, it was not.

Improbable, indeed. Back to the graveyard, evil undead!

But one night, as I wondered if expanding to a 16x15 grid would help, the zombie rose. Fast forward past several sleepness nights, and I sent John-Clark a new grid skeleton that passed my testing.

See? Making a crossword is yeas! Er, easy.

– puzzle by John-Clark Levin and Jeff Chen

DROP ME A LINE is a great phrase to riff on, and it perfectly explains what's going on today. We've written ME in white to help you see the theme entries more clearly, but we've also grayed out the MEs below those. Fun idea.

I wasn't sure why SHAME was clued as SHA, similarly THYME to THY and NO TIME to NOT I. Those dropped MEs seem like they should cleverly blend into the background, rather than sticking out. Then again, this way does make it easier for solvers to figure out the concept. They might not understand why KISS and KATE are connected, or they might not grok why THYME is weirdly clued, but chances are they won't be stumped by both.

Cleanliness isn't as important to me in a Thursday product since not many newbs dare to tread in these deep waters. However, Alan hit most every type of glue called out by editors in their specs sheets. There aren't any partials, but I introduce Exhibits A, B, C, and D:

1. Tough names: KYD EARLE AHN THEA
2. Foreign words: OBIS AMI
3. Esoteric words: MOSELLE ILIAC SWALE ESKER
4. Abbreviations or shortened words: ERE TIS

It's not a quality product.

I liked the idea, but I would have asked for a complete overhaul. I bet shifting KEEP IN TOUCH to the far left (and DROP ME A LINE to the far right) would have created better spacing.

And don't get me started on how THANK (ME) LATER causes gridwork problems. It isn't a great phrase, anyway, so a replacement would have done wonders.

(It might seem like DONT GET (ME) STARTED would be tougher to grid around since it's longer than THANK (ME) LATER. However, it'd be much easier to work with, since it doesn't force awkward black square placements.)

Another central entry pattern that would be easier to work with: _ _ _ ME _ _ _ . If we could only think of something that would fit. Hmm, let me see …

All in all, a concept well worth executing on, but the gridwork issues drove me crazy.

– puzzle by Alan Arbesfeld

Robyn features a great assortment of colloquial phrases today, telling a story:

ANY TAKERS?

... IT'S A START

LETS ROLL!

ARE WE THERE YET?

CALL IT A DAY

PROPOSE A TOAST, PEABRAIN!

Sounds like the plot of "Dude, Where's My Car?" or "Hot Tub Time Machine," two movies I unabashedly loved.

Let's call it semi-abashedly.

One of the things I love best about Robyn's themelesses is that there's often a seed entry that sings, that sticks in my memory. I didn't find one today, but LIFE LESSON came close. Perhaps that has something to do with where I'm at with my kids, and all the valuable LIFE LESSONs I impart upon them.

Did you know that eye rolling starts at age 2?

Just a TOD too much crossword glue today. I'd STET a minor TAE or ASI here or there, but something like TOD that's already borderline gets amplified by other tough names like LON and CID, so it sticks out more than usual.

EXIT … pursued by a bear? It's from "The Winter's Tale," where John Candy — er, Antigonus — gets chased off stage by a bear. Huh!

The clue for ELECTORATE was more up my lowbrow alley. [Seasonal pickers] had me focused on farm workers. Great misdirection, using the word "seasonal" to hint at election season. No telltale question mark needed!

A thoroughly entertaining puzzle overall.

– puzzle by Robyn Weintraub

★ Oh, that center. Ooh. Ooooh! If you add a googol Os to that "ooh," that'd be more accurate. I've worked with many big centers while developing themelesses, but nothing like this. It wouldn't even occur to me to try, so impossible does it seem. I might attempt it once, and then quickly place a black square at the very center, or maybe scatter two around, like at the A of CYBERATTACK and the R of LOTTERY PICK.

Stunning. I rarely open up a themeless and stare, slack-jawed.

My usual second reaction to something like this is to clench every muscle in my body in preparation for a slew of uglies. Short gloop. Mid-length oddities. Long curiosities. Everything under the Barnum and Bailey sun.

Not today. The middle is more Blaine than Bailey. There are strong feature entries, like LOTTERY PICK (term for a high NBA draft choice), CYBERATTACK, RAT TRAP, STAR STUDENT, SPY CAMS. And there's no short crossword glue — how could there be where there are so few short slots, period?

RADIUMS is ugly in the plural, but it gets a pass as the sole funky bit in the massive white hole that is the center. I laughed at Ryan's appropriate use of the word "vomitous," too.

Solid corners, too. CRY HAVOC, THE FORCE (think: "Star Wars"), SNO BALLS, the women's soccer powerhouse TEAM USA, and that wannabe COOL MOM we all roll our eyes at, ha ha ha ... hey, wait. One of my kids called me a "cool dad" the other day. Huh.

Some may miss the cleverness behind [Shrunken head?]. LAV is short for "lavatory," so there needs to be some "for short" or "Abbr." tag in the clue. Great use of "shrunken" to do that job, while introducing wit by using a fun phrase.

I'd still have given Ryan the POW! for this masterpiece if it had turned out 80% as strong. I might have to award him 1.25 POW!s today!

– puzzle by Ryan McCarty

Not much macro-level technical interest in this one. Some micro points that might help other constructors:

As is often the case with Sunday 140 word-puzzles, the middle is the hardest to get right. We tested out so many arrangements of black squares, so many options where GADSDEN now sits, but nothing was working. You start off with your most desired entry at a critical spot, test the heck out of it, then if it doesn't work out, move to the next highest. Suffice it to say, GADSDEN was not at the top of our list. Still, I'm hopeful that it at least sounds familiar from history class.

We had a good back and forth with Will Shortz on several entries. IRL (in real life) was tough for him to accept, since it's not uber-well-known yet. I use it all the time, but I can see how some might scratch their heads.

We made concessions to Will in the NE, where we had MURICA where PALACE now is. What is MURICA? What are you, a commie pinko? ‘Murica is the good ol' US of A, damn straight! Okay, maybe Will made the right call there.

Jack and I went back and forth a dozen times on the southwest corner. I tend to err on the side of cleanliness, but the trio of DITHER + ORNERY + TOUPEE made for such an evocative image. Calling Donald Trump!

Our first draft had too many names for Will's taste, and he had a point. If you don't know SCARJO (player of Black Widow!), GEENA DAVIS (Thelma! Or was it Louise?), LEILA, LESLIE Jones (hilarious on SNL), Julian ASSANGE, and of course James GADSDEN (you didn't know him? infidel!), our first draft would have irked you even more.

I enjoy working with constructors who keep an open mind to feedback, and who are willing to put in the time and hard work required to get a theme and a grid to an appropriate level of quality. Jack's one of the good ones.

– puzzle by Jack Mowat and Jeff Chen

BOY OH BOY, it's been a while since we've seen a "both words can follow X" theme. A few years ago, Will Shortz mentioned that he's phasing out simpler "words that can follow X" themes, and it feels like the "both words" variant is on its last legs.

As they go, this one works well. BALL boy, GAME boy (Nintendo gaming device), HIGH boy (some sort of chest of drawers?), etc. Listing these off makes me feel like Bubba from "Forrest Gump" talking about shrimp. Cabin boy, old boy, altar boy, poor boy, golden boy, mamas boy … boy oh boy, there sure are a lot of them!

A common problem with this theme type is that the phrases tend to be on the dull side since it's not easy to have both parts of the themers mesh with your key word. BALL GAME, BAD NEWS, COW BELL are solid, but as I solved, HIGH OFFICE made me wonder if Lynn had restrictions on her choices. Same with SCHOOL PLAY. They're reasonable answers, but usually, you'd strive for more colorful material.

Having six themers forced some non-Lempelian compromises, too. H??C is a tough pattern to work with, and some newbs may look at HUAC and ask themselves if crosswords are right for them. "I have to know ILIE of tennis?" might be a reason to put down the puzzle and do something else, too.

There are a lot of nice bonuses, though, JUMBOTRON, LIBIDO, KIMONO, PARODY adding spice to the solve.

All in all, a solid, if not outstanding example of this theme type. I'm hoping that Will won't take any more this cut and dried, but there's still room for ones that do something a little different with the genre.

– puzzle by Lynn Lempel

I've seen plenty of "low hanging fruit" puzzles — in the NYT, the WSJ, the LAT, I've even done one myself for CrosSynergy, using just types of berries — so this is a welcome twist. Some excellent finds, too, PEAR atop the great base phrase PEARLY WHITES, LEMON sneakily hiding in LE MONDE.

I found it difficult to distinguish which entries were themers and which weren't. (Are HORM or LO fruits? The loquat is delicious ….) That's the risk you take when using shortish theme answers. I did enjoy LEMON in LEMONDE, but I wonder if it was worth that price.

I'd have liked all the themers to be at the top of the grid. Not only would that make them stand out more, but there's something elegant about having a "hidden word at top" phrase have all the hidden words at the top of the grid. That would have required mirror symmetry ... but do not trees display mirror symmetry?

My kids hate it when I talk like that.

Regular readers might be surprised that I enjoyed SERAPHIM in an early-week puzzle. I wouldn't expect newer solvers to be able to plunk this in without question, but it could at least sound familiar — more than HUAC or ILIE, perhaps. I like the color that it adds to the solving experience.

I appreciated the execution on the given grid layout — Andrew's meticulous craftsmanship shows through, with barely any crossword glue — but a more top-heavy grid skeleton might have enhanced the solving experience.

– puzzle by Andrew Kingsley

Several years ago, a newer constructor ran an idea by me, using PRIME REAL ESTATE as a revealer for THREE MILE ISLAND, plus some others I don't recall for TWO, FIVE, and SEVEN. I loved the notion, but his choices left something to be desired. I thought his chances for acceptance would be much higher if he brainstormed for better themers, but he went ahead as is, and subsequently got rejected.

Enter today's puzzle! I like Jules's selections, each themer easily recognizable and catchy to boot. I would have loved for TWO and FIVE to be included, but crossword symmetry requirements are a cruel beast. To get the three prime numbers in ascending order is a nice touch.

Today's grid is more wide-open than usual, the word count of 75 deceptively high, considering it's a 16x15 grid. With biggish swaths in the SW and NE, parts of the grid approach themeless-like openness. I often dislike when constructors do this, leaving me with a feeling that they're trying to show off, trade-offs be damned.

Not today, Jules's decision is paying off. LEVERET is a bit of an oddball, but when you can work in SURGICAL, CORAL RED, TEA SHOP, POLITICO, that's worth a bit of ARIL ETES GOVT. There's some extra bite, to be sure — I nearly got stuck in the NW, unable to make the connection between "Buzz off!" and BITE ME, for example — but it wasn't enough to create the feeling of mismatch that can come with a straightforward theme buried within a tough grid.

I enjoyed this concept the first time around, and I enjoyed it even more now. Makes me want to go back to my notes to see if there is a TWO and/or a FIVE themer.

– puzzle by Jules Markey

★ Phrases that morph into equally valid new phrases are my jam, so Yacob and Erik had me at BREAKING BAD to BAKING BREAD. What a beautiful discovery!

I have a feeling some solvers won't figure out what's going on, so here's a before and after:

• BREAKING BAD to BAKING BREAD
• IN THE RED to IN THREE-D (think: IN 3-D)
• CREATED to CATERED
• COMPADRE to COMPARED

None of the rest is as strong as BREAKING BAD to BAKING BREAD — it's so neat when there are multiple words involved. IN THREE-D did hit that mark, but spelling THREE out is a crossword-specific … "oddity" would be a generous description.

As I would expect from these two (Yacob giving us a smash hit on this last themeless), such a tasty grid! Constructors often fail when they try to go big — 72 words is in themeless territory — but there was no going home today. Even if you didn't enjoy the theme as much as I did, I'd give each of these entries a check (Will Shortz assigns checks and minuses in his grid-assessing process):

• TEA LEONI
• TAKE SIGN (baseball-specific lingo, but such a neat term)
• NO MERCY
• HUMVEE
• YE GODS (some see it as weird, but it's grown on me over the years)
• CLOSE ONE
• GET IT NOW?

Between TACTILE, ANIMATE, and IMPEDED, I'd toss in another checkmark, taking the total up to 8. That's astounding for a puzzle built around five theme entries.

I'd have loved another stunner like BREAKING BAD to BAKING BREAD, but the four (RE)LOCATIONS worked well enough. It made me want to go search for more. I didn't have time to write the code, but I spent five minutes figuring out how I would do it — I love it when someone gives my brain a challenge. Along with gridwork that greatly enhanced my solving experience, these guys earn another POW! apiece.

– puzzle by Yacob Yonas and Erik Agard

When people ask me what makes for a great themeless entry, I'm going to point to CATTLE RUSTLERS. It has the four qualities that make it a gold medalist:

1. It's a snazzy phrase in its own right.
2. You don't need to clue it with excruciating dictionary detail since it's a common enough term.
3. It can take a wickedly clever clue.
4. Said wickedly clever clue doesn't need a telltale question mark, making it so innocently brilliant.

I almost gave John the POW! for this entry / clue pair alone. Little respect for brand names? Not generic products, but literally names that are branded. Genius!

I always learn something from John's themelesses, mostly in a good way. I didn't know the term BRISTLECONE PINE, but these are two recognizable words, so it didn't interfere with my clean solve. Same with SHAG BARK. I wish these were more shagalicious entries, but what can you do.

ARCHAISM felt archaic, but it stems from "archaic" so I still could figure it out.

Nice bit of BORNEO trivia. I had no idea it was governed by … (Alexa, open Wikipedia!) … ah, got it. (Speaking in a condescending Alex Trebek voice) Malaysia, Brunei, and Indonesia, of course.

I picked up the term "demesne" from crosswords, but I still don't know what it means. I had a vague feeling that I'd heard it from one of John's crosswords. A-ha! Thanks to our clue finder, I see that John indeed used this clue in a previous themeless. Two strikes ...

I enjoyed much of GRAB A BITE TO EAT, OPENS A TAB, the historical term BRITISH RAJ, THAT'S WEIRD. One too many demesnes that were weird for me, though.

– puzzle by John Guzzetta

STAIRMASTER made for a near-perfect central entry. It's something most everyone will have seen or at least heard of, so you can employ wordplay to your heart's desire. And the clue didn't disappoint. I wrestled with [Flight simulator?] for ages. Not a pilot's flight simulator, but a simulator of a flight of stairs. Man, that's clever!

It, unfortunately, needed the telltale question mark, which is why I said "near-perfect." Still, it's a 9.5 out of 10.

I have an extremely high bar for Andrew's stair-stack work — ah, the insider's nod makes STAIRMASTER even more enjoyable! — and this one didn't quite meet my sky-high expectations.

Part of it was that Andrew challenged himself more than usual, using three grid-spanners, CAPTAIN KANGAROO, CINCINNATI CHILI, and JUKEBOX MUSICAL. Integrating these into the grid skeleton rigidifies everything so much, that the fill can't bend in the wind. It's unusual to see so much CPO ESTD ILIE MOL OREL in a Ries production.

I have an issue with TIGER MOTHER. That technically is a valid term, but no one calls it that — it's always "tiger mom." Even my mom calls herself a tiger mom. She'd probably spank me if I said TIGER MOTHER.

I kid! Sort of. I did get spanked (mostly deserved). People laugh about the "Asian F" — an A-minus — but one of my clearest memories is of bringing home a report card with all As and one A-minus. My mom's reaction was to scowl while berating me for doing so poorly.

I guess her methods worked. In making me neurotic, that is.

Still, I dug Andrew's stair stack of INDEX FINGER / STAIRMASTER / RHETT BUTLER, plus SATELLITE TV running through them. And that clue for PITTED! [Like dates that lack a heart] — a bit of wordplay cleverness, a bit of social commentary. Thank goodness those days are long since past me!

– puzzle by Andrew J. Ries

Dangerous curves ahead! I enjoyed many of the discoveries today. It's easy to think of phrases containing CAR, but much harder if the snippets before and after CAR must also be real words. REINCARNATION = REIN (CAR) NATION works beautifully. When I finally figured out the gist of the theme, it helped tremendously in finishing the rest of the puzzle, and that's a great feeling.

I also appreciated that Royce adhered to crossword symmetry, which meant he had to find some themers where the chunk before CAR had to work backward, like the MAS in MAS (CAR) PONE reading SAM. Same with the PAL in META (CAR) PAL having to read as LAP.

What confused me, though: why do the tunnels turn so suddenly? What sort of twisted (ha) city planner puts a sharp 90-degree turn in the middle of tunnels? Hopefully, one with top-notch legal representation!

As much as I enjoyed the theme finds, I would have had more fun uncovering them if they'd been straight. Something akin to one I did with CATs a while back, maybe.

Speaking of that CATs puzzle, I got mail from some mystified solvers who finished the puzzle but didn't realize there were CATs anywhere. I wonder if today will be similar, people shrugging that sure, maybe SWEET is a hit for Neil Diamond, or SAM is a cousin to cream cheese because ... because who cares.

I used to get regular mail from a certain solver, short and sweet: "TOO F*CKING CLEVER, JEFF." It amused me, but I took it to heart. I wonder if forgoing TUNNEL / VISION, straightening the turns, and drawing in cars over the tops of the three black squares would have been more elegant.

Overall, a strong debut. It's not easy to execute on something like this — crossword symmetry can be a bear when you have limited choice in themers — and Royce pulled it off with above-average craftsmanship.

– puzzle by Royce Ferguson