Kill Streak is a horror film podcast built around series rather than single titles, taken one entry at a time. Eric Gosselin introduces each episode, and Mike Price is there beside him, as always. A stretch of the episode list shows how this works. Two Tetsuo films sit side by side, the 2001 Pulse is paired with its 2006 remake, and the 2002 Resident Evil comes next. Much of the substance is production history. The Resident Evil conversation explains how Constantine Film, a German production company, bought the rights to the games, a deal the pair doubt a company of that kind could land today. It also notes that the film once stood as the highest-grossing video game adaptation before being overtaken. The Tetsuo: The Iron Man discussion weighs the romance of a scrappy shoot against working conditions they say would not be acceptable now, with Texas Chainsaw as the comparison. For the 2001 Pulse, the talk traces a filmmaker's path through the Sundance Institute program to Cure, described as a supernatural crime thriller about a murderous impulse that spreads between people like a virus. Effects are a favorite tangent. The Tetsuo II conversation brings in tokusatsu, with its miniatures and suits, and the pair declare that they will take practical over digital any day of the week. Asked for a digital effect that truly earned its place, one of them picks Irreversible, calling it a blend of practical and digital work. Opinions arrive without hedging. The 2006 Pulse is called maybe the worst remake they have done, a film that feels as if a machine had been taught every bad habit of the aughts remake wave and then turned loose on the original. That complaint widens into unease about 'AI slop' reshaping language and, soon, films. There is practical advice as well. One episode closes with a push to get a library card for free streaming, and another considers renting a film so a little money reaches Tsukamoto. Listeners get pulled in directly, too, as when an episode opens by asking for help naming an old song, possibly from 1930s or 1940s cartoons, that neither man could place. Rituals hold the format together, from greetings matched to the film, such as 'zombie dogs' for Resident Evil, to a closing 'and as always' line that changes each time. The chat around the films is loose, covering new jobs, stacked side gigs, late nights and family life. The language is profane and the humor can be crude, but the film talk underneath stays detailed and specific.