Somewhere between a Bob Ross marathon and a fever dream, Learn to Paint Good was born. It’s a short-form puppet comedy that looks suspiciously like the kind of show you’d stumble across on Saturday morning TV — fuzzy characters, bright colors, cheerful music — right up until the moment it very much isn’t.

At the center of it all is Redd Greenie Bloo, your host and teacher. Redd is enthusiastic, warm, completely sincere, and genuinely wrong about almost everything. His technique is wrong. His art history is wrong. The words he uses are wrong. But he says all of it with such absolute joy that you can’t help but love him for it. Think Bob Ross if Bob Ross had learned everything he knew from a game of telephone played by caffeinated raccoons.

Then there’s Fizzie the Earworm, Redd’s sidekick and the voice of reason — if the voice of reason only ever communicated through mangled snippets of pop songs at slightly the wrong moment. Fizzie never actually speaks. She only sings. Everything she needs to say, she says in song, and the lyrics are never quite right. That’s the point. You’ll leave with one of them stuck in your head and you won’t entirely know why.

The show is a love letter to Bob Ross, to Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood, to all those strange, warm, slightly unhinged corners of TV you grew up watching — the ones that felt like they were operating on a frequency adults weren’t quite tuned into. It looks like it was made for kids. It was not made for kids. It was made for anyone who wants to feel that particular flavor of nostalgic chaos again, and maybe learn approximately nothing about painting while they’re at it.

Welcome to the show.