The joke works because the modification takes a familiar truck trend and applies its logic in exactly the wrong direction. Instead of raising the front and leaving the rear low, an already compromised Ford receives enormous rear suspension changes that leave its bed towering above the nose. The builders frame this “reverse squat” as a practical correction, claiming better forward visibility, unlimited tire clearance, and improved towing potential while obviously presenting a deliberately ridiculous vehicle. The fact that the truck reportedly already has a salvage title helps establish why it was chosen for the experiment, while the exaggerated sales pitch gives the project a clear comedic target: if lifting one end of a truck is supposedly an improvement, why not lift the opposite end even more?
The initial driving quickly reveals that functionality is mostly part of the joke. The truck's extreme stance looks absurd moving around the property, and mechanical trouble appears before the promised towing test can even happen when it fails to build power properly. Rather than immediately turning the project into a technical diagnosis, the episode uses that interruption as another reason to keep abusing the vehicle elsewhere. The suspension setup is treated less as an engineered modification than an intentionally bad idea waiting to demonstrate what it can destroy, which is appropriate for the premise but means viewers looking for detailed information about geometry, driveline angles, steering behavior, or suspension loads receive very little.
Taking the truck to Cleetus and Squirrel's tire shop provides the episode's major payoff. The reverse-squat build is proudly presented as the solution to conventional squatted trucks, followed by burnouts and increasingly aggressive driving around the property. Concerns about the driveshaft and steering appear almost immediately, and the truck eventually crashes into the tire shop's shed after the steering apparently locks up. The resulting destruction is substantial enough to become the center of the visit: the shed is damaged, tires and other items inside are affected, and debris or gravel is thrown around nearby vehicles. The group's response turns the accident into extended banter about improved ventilation, warranties, insurance payouts, and whether destroying the business has somehow made its owners richer.
That sequence is energetic, but the episode becomes uncomfortable whenever jokes about insurance cross into descriptions of intentionally overinsuring property and destroying it for a payout. The conversation is clearly delivered as absurd banter following the shed crash, not a serious financial tutorial, and nothing shown establishes that anyone actually intends to commit insurance fraud. Even so, repeatedly describing fraudulent claims as an easy business model adds little when the physical comedy of a badly modified truck crashing into a shed is already enough to carry the scene. The same applies to some of the extended joking around the tire shop: the personalities and improvised reactions are entertaining, but the actual reverse-squat experiment temporarily disappears beneath the aftermath.
The towing attempt brings the concept back into focus and provides the most useful demonstration of why the modification fails as a truck. The theory is that starting with the rear dramatically elevated should allow a heavy trailer to compress the suspension until the truck becomes level. Instead, hooking up the deuce deck puts the hitch and frame under visibly concerning strain while consuming the exaggerated rear lift without producing a setup the group considers usable. They stop rather than continue damaging the trailer or truck, explicitly acknowledging that the idea will not work. That failed test is more informative than the earlier destruction because it directly challenges the supposed practical advantage the modification was designed to demonstrate.
The conclusion wisely extends the joke to both versions of the squat rather than pretending the reverse setup accidentally succeeded. Raising the rear makes forward visibility easier, but the truck cannot tow the trailer as intended and introduces its own visibility and usability problems. The builders ultimately argue that lifting only one end renders a truck impractical regardless of which end receives the modification: one direction compromises forward visibility, while the reverse configuration creates its own problems and fails the towing test. It is hardly a controlled engineering comparison, especially given the truck's existing condition, extreme suspension changes, power issue, crash, and subsequent abuse. As a deliberately exaggerated demonstration of why extreme stance modifications sacrifice utility, however, the vehicle makes the point with considerably more spectacle than a conventional explanation ever could.
Pros
- Reversing the conventional squat gives the episode an immediately understandable visual joke and a clear target for its satire.
- Using a truck already described as having a salvage title makes the destructive experiment easier to contextualize than sacrificing an otherwise pristine vehicle.
- The tire-shop visit escalates the premise from an odd-looking modification into memorable physical comedy and destruction.
- The towing test directly examines the claimed practical benefit of the raised rear rather than ending after burnouts and visual reactions.
- Abandoning the trailer test when the hitch and frame appear dangerously stressed prevents the experiment from continuing purely for spectacle.
- The conclusion acknowledges that the reverse squat fails and uses that result to criticize extreme one-sided suspension modifications in either direction.
Cons
- The truck's existing condition, power problem, extreme modification, and later damage make it impossible to isolate the suspension stance as the cause of every problem encountered.
- Little technical explanation is provided about suspension geometry, driveline angles, steering, hitch loading, or why the towing setup places such visible strain on the truck.
- The tire-shop destruction occupies a substantial portion of the episode while temporarily moving away from evaluating the reverse-squat concept itself.
- Repeated jokes about deliberately destroying insured property for large payouts are unnecessary and distract from the much stronger mechanical comedy.
- The towing test ends before any actual road towing occurs, so the conclusion is based on the obvious problems observed while connecting and loading the trailer rather than a complete towing trial.
The reverse squat succeeds at exactly one thing: demonstrating how quickly an intentionally impractical truck modification can become entertaining. The towering rear stance looks ridiculous, the builders sell its supposed advantages with deliberate confidence, and the visit to the tire shop turns the experiment into outright destruction when the truck crashes into a shed. Yet the most worthwhile moment comes afterward, when the vehicle is finally asked to perform the job its exaggerated rear height is supposedly meant to improve. The trailer exposes the flaw immediately. Instead of settling neatly into an ideal towing stance, the setup puts enough visible stress on the hitch and frame that the test is abandoned. Combined with the earlier steering trouble and general awkwardness, that gives the comedy a legitimate mechanical payoff. The episode could have benefited from more technical explanation and less insurance-fraud banter, but its central point survives the chaos: reversing a bad suspension trend does not make the underlying idea good. It simply creates a different-looking way to make a truck much less useful.
