Episode 108: The Day of The Schlorp

After a local doomsday cult, The Children of The All-Knowing Milton, finally meet their doom, Riley and Evelyn need to give Death a hand to get all their souls processed.

+ Transcript

Evelyn: If you’re hearing this, I’ve got good news: you survived the apocalypse. Yay! The bad news is: this is the last episode of Less is Morgue in the history of ever.

Riley: Hey, we’ll still be doing this show, even if this bullshit end-of-the-world scare turns out to be true and our fans end up dead. I need the emotional outlet.

Evelyn: Fun fact: We already have a sizable fan following among the dead. They can't tweet, like, subscribe, or show up on the download numbers, but I know they're there!

Riley: [sarcastic] And boy, do we appreciate their support.

Evelyn: This is the last episode. Do you really want to go out being mean to our fans?

Riley: It’s not the last episode, and it’s not the end of the world. I say that in order of importance. Evelyn: Where’s your conspiracy theorist spirit?

Riley: I’m hosting a podcast with her.

Evelyn: I don't get how you can believe every other nutty theory, but not this totally reasonable one!

Riley: Hi, everyone. I’m Riley, your best ghoulfriend.

Evelyn: And I’m Evelyn, your Ghost Host with the Most… and this is our last episode.

Riley: It’s not the last episode!

SOUND: Riley is cut off by the intro music.

Riley: And we’re back.

Evelyn: But not for long, because soon everyone will be dead.

Riley: Knock it off already. You lived through Y2K, this is just like that.

Evelyn: This isn’t Y2K! This is Milton’s Comet! It’s going to throw off the earth’s magnetic field, increasing gravity and crushing us under the weight of the atmosphere.

Riley: Are you sure you went to college? ‘Cause I know I didn’t, and that still sounds like bullshit.

Evelyn: I read it on RealestTruthNews.ru.

Riley: Are you kidding me? Those government shills haven’t even said a word on Project Afterimage, even though the photographs are widely available.

Evelyn: I don’t know what that is, but you need to take this seriously.

Riley: ‘RealestTruthNews.ru’ seriously? Or ‘realizing that we are just three years out from being left behind on a duplicate earth’ seriously?

Evelyn: We are three minutes out from Milton’s Comet turning the world’s oxygen into pudding!

Riley: I thought you said the atmosphere was going to crush us.

Evelyn: In the form of pudding! It's all there in the article.

Riley: Sounds delicious. [Beat] I think I’ll pull up the live countdown.

SOUND: Riley typing. Then a ticking noise.

Evelyn: Sure, Riley! Pull up a live countdown on our podcast that takes a week to produce.

Riley: When have you ever been concerned about the production side of things?

Evelyn: Since we have minutes to live!

Riley: Correction. I have minutes to live. You’re already dead, and I’m pretty sure the pudding would phase right through you.

Evelyn: Ah! So you admit you’re going to die.

Riley: Wow, only one minute left before the comet passes by. That’s even sooner than you thought, Evelyn.

Evelyn: Wait, there’s so much I haven’t had a chance to say.

Riley: [Laughs] Why wait? I’m all ears. Better hurry before the pudding falls.

Evelyn: Riley, you’re my best friend. You get on my nerves sometimes, but there’s nowhere I’d rather be right now than recording the last episode of our podcast.

Riley: [Sadistic glee] Oh, it’s getting close. Just ten seconds. Prepare to evacuate soul.

Evelyn: [Distraught] I don’t know what I’m going to do when I’m a wandering ghost alone in a world of pudding, and you’re where the bad people go.

Riley: Three, two… Wait, I’m going where?

SOUND: Alarm goes off. A second of silence.

Evelyn: [Nervous laugh] You know, it’s funny. I thought there’d be some kind of thunderous schlorping sound.

Riley: No pudding, no schlorp. Can we rewind for a second and address this? “Where the bad people go”? Is that what overly polite dorks like you call Hell?

Evelyn: I mean, I guess we’re in a basement with sound-proofing, maybe we missed the schlorp.

Riley: Don’t change the subject! There’s no schlorp, Evelyn! Because the world isn’t ending, it’s just another normal-ass day in the lives and deaths of Riley and Evelyn!

SOUND: Paranormal schlorp as the ghost of Brother Puddonius appears in the basement.

Brother Puddonius: Praise the All-Knowing Milton! I am delivered!

Evelyn: What the heck?

Riley: [Grumbles] Why does fate have such a sick sense of humour?

Brother Puddonius: Brothers, join me, for I find myself in the Suggested Land!

SOUND: Additional schlorps as more cultists appear, saying “Praise Milton” as they do so.

Evelyn: Uhhh Riley, who are all these new ghost friends? And why are they all wearing robes?

Riley: [Alarmed] Don’t ask me! I’m not a ghost whisperer.

Evelyn: Well, you’re right about that. You’re more like a ghost neglector.

Riley: Quiet, Evelyn.

Evelyn: See!

Riley: How’s this? [Raises their voice] Hey, bed-sheet brigade! I’m afraid this basement is already haunted, so take your little demonstration elsewhere.

Evelyn: I don’t think they’re getting the message, Riley.

Brother Puddonius: Rejoice, my brothers! For it is the day of absolution! Milton’s Comet has come and liberated us from a world of regret and sorrow! A world that is now drenched in the caramel-coated rage of a thousand flans!

SOUND: Cult voices chant “FLAN” in unison.

Riley: Are they saying flan? [beat] Oh, you have got to be shitting me.

Evelyn: I was right! It was the schlorp, Riley! The schlorp!

Riley: Stop saying schlorp! It’s weirding me out.

Evelyn: Being underground must have bought us some time, but the ceiling could cave at any minute.

Riley: Right, and then I’ll die and be punished in the afterlife for being a horrible person [beat] according to you.

Evelyn: I don’t think you’re a horrible person, Riley. But I also don’t make the rules.

Riley: Oh, spare me. I’m not dealing with this. If there’s even a one percent chance you and these morons of the cloth are right about this, I’m eating my way outta here.

SOUND: Riley gets up. We hear their footsteps as they exit towards the stairs.

Evelyn: Wait, Riley! What about the show!? Think of all our dead listeners!

Riley: [Far from the mic] Good point, more pudding for me.

SOUND: Door slams.

Evelyn: Oh shoot. This really is the last episode.

Brother Puddonius: Greetings, o celestial one!

Evelyn: [Surprised] JESUS.

Brother Puddonius: Pleased to make your acquaintance, Jesus. I am Brother Puddonius, a Child of The All-Knowing Milton.

Evelyn: Milton? Like as in Milton’s Comet?

Brother Puddonius: The very same.

Evelyn: [Slightly off-put] Cool. Anyway, sorry about the mess, it was Riley’s turn to clean this week. I mean, I guess it’s kinda always their turn since I’m not super great at being able to touch things, so on my weeks I just-

Brother Puddonius: Fret not, o gracious host with the very most! The Suggested Land appears exactly as it was suggested to look. Suggestively.

Evelyn: Look, you guys should probably move on. If Riley ever comes back, they’re not going to be happy with any funky cult business. [Beat] And come to think of it, neither am I.

SOUND: The biggest schlorp. It grows in intensity as Thackery Boggs emerges into the basement.

Brother Puddonius: He arrives! Brothers, you know him! You love him! He is sworn leader of the Children of the All-Knowing Milton! Host of the Suggested Land, please welcome the one and only Thackery Boggs!

SOUND: Twanging of a sitar.

Thackery Boggs: Life’s mystery quivers within me like a bowl of half-eaten custard.

Brother Puddonius: You all know what comes next, my brothers! We shall now take into our own hands the pudding which has rained down from the heavens, and we shall use it to slather the naked body of Thackery Boggs. From his broad, rugged shoulders to the tip of his--

Thackery Boggs: Now I’m going to have to stop you right there.

Brother Puddonius: [Tongue out] We shall extend our tongues and we shall lick-

Thackery Boggs: Brother, no!

Brother Puddonius: What seems to be the problem, exalted one?

Thackery Boggs: I admire your enthusiasm for the cause, Brother Puddonius, but there is nothing in the teachings of the All-Knowing Milton about slathering my naked body with pudding.

Brother Puddonius: There’s not?

Thackery Boggs: No, there’s not. And even if there were, which again I must stress would be highly unorthodox, the fact is that we, The Children of The All-Knowing Milton, have transcended the physical plane into a realm of pure psyche. Ergo, none of us have the tangible form required to sustain any amount of heretical pudding slathering.

Brother Puddonius: [Disappointed] He doesn’t want the slathering, brothers.

SOUND: Cult groans and sounds disappointed.

Brother Puddonius: I know, I know, but our leader has spoken.

SOUND: Thackery plucks at the sitar again.

Thackery Boggs: My fellow children, we must always strive to embody the noble haggis. Aggressive, but willing to compromise.

Evelyn: Excuse me, Mr. Boggs?

Thackery Boggs: Well, pour me into a casing and call me a blood sausage!

SOUND: Twang.

Thackery Boggs: Do my newly spectral eyes deceive me, or have I been greeted by a celestial being?

Brother Puddonius: That is Jesus, exalted one.

Evelyn: It’s Evelyn, actually.

Thackery Boggs: Evelyn, eh? A fitting name for a host of the Suggested Land.

Evelyn: Actually, what I’m trying to tell you is--

Thackery Boggs: Your name means “a desirable one who brings light and companionship”, does it not?

Evelyn: Awww, well I guess that’s the sort of energy I try to bring to the room.

Brother Puddonius: It also means hazelnut, as in hazelnut pudding.

Evelyn: Why are you guys so obsessed with dessert?

Thackery Boggs: What is the afterlife, but the dessert of life?

SOUND: Sitar twang.

Thackery Boggs: O Mighty Evelyn, we, The Children of The All-Knowing Milton, have seen your Suggested Land and found it a suitable place to spend our eternity.

Evelyn: Are you sure we’re looking at the same basement? We’ve got at least four xylophones’ worth of discarded ribs down here. Thackery Boggs: Well, you wouldn’t eat a pig’s kidney until it was coated in gravy.

Evelyn: I wouldn’t eat a pig’s kidney, period. Also, what!?

Brother Puddonius: What the exalted one means to say is that we all must slather each other with gravy!

Thackery Boggs: No, it doesn’t! Brother, you must stop.

SOUND: Angry twang.

Thackery Boggs: It means that we will come to accept this place just the way it is, Evelyn.

Evelyn: Well, that’d be great. Only this isn’t the afterlife. This really is just a ratty old basement.

Brother Puddonius: How could this be?

Thackery Boggs: Enough, Puddonius. Surely, this is a test put forth by the All-Knowing Milton.

Evelyn: It really isn’t. [Beat] Look, I understand what it’s like to not go to the place you wanted to. Life comes at you fast and death is like twice as fast as that. I wasn’t as ready for the end of the world as you all seem to be, so in a way, you guys have a leg up on making this whole earthbound spirit thing work out for the best. Ignoring for a second that we all don’t have legs.

Thackery Boggs: Nope, I’m not buying it.

SOUND: Twang.

Thackery Boggs: I, Thackery Boggs, demand an audience with the All-Knowing Milton.

Evelyn: And I, Evelyn Hooper, cannot arrange such a meeting, so please leave a message after the tone.

Thackery Boggs: I must say, I don’t much appreciate your tone.

SOUND: Puddonius phases through the wall.

Brother Puddonius: Exalted one! I have seen the room of bathing, and there is another being here. He says his name is Jon-

Evelyn: Milton! [Beat] You figured it out. I was hiding Jon Milton, the All-Knowing, from you as a test of your… fortitude and… stability?

Thackery Boggs: Those are two qualities I quite enjoy in my pudding.

Evelyn: [Awkwardly] And serve you well, they shall! Go now, to the bathroom and rejoice.

Brother Puddonius: Evelyn has spoken! To the bathroom, brothers!

SOUND: Cult phases through the bathroom door en masse.

Thackery Boggs: It is as the menu implied: We have removed our skin and may now bask in the deliciousness of what we have become.

SOUND: Sitar twangs and Thackery phases away through the wall.

Evelyn: [Calling] Sorry, Jon.

SOUND: Door opens, footsteps again, Riley re-enters the room.

Evelyn: Oh good, Riley’s back!

Riley: I just had the weirdest conversation with my mom.

Evelyn: [Gasps] Was she nice to you?

Riley: Okay, not that weird. I guess I shouldn’t have lead with “Where’s the pudding?”

Evelyn: Was there pudding?

Riley: Yes and no. Let me start at the beginning. So, I get to the top of the stairs, and…

[WEIRD AD TIME]

Vodka Aunt: It’s Saturday, and once again you find yourself all alone, like a sad, pathetic loser. You could have gone out with your girlfriends, but that’s when it hits you: You don’t have any girlfriends. You don’t have anyone. Your life is a deepening pit of isolation, and the bottom can only be found in a bottle of Aunt Sammy’s Homebody Vodka. So you crack open a bottle, and that’s when you realize: you’re not alone anymore.

SOUND: Foreboding music.

Vodka Aunt: At Aunt Sammy’s, our handcrafted spirits are literally just that: Spirits. We condense a dozen lonely souls from the most secluded places on earth into a single vengeful apparition - an apparition that will surely have major tea to spill.

Within each bottle is a composite wraith that just wants to be your friend, but not without telling you the reason why your every attempt at intimacy is bound to be a resounding failure. Sure, you could adopt a litter of kittens, but will those precious babies be able to get you weeping drunk while engaging you in thousand-year old gossip? No, I don’t think they will. Sorry, kittens.

SOUND: startled cat noise.

Vodka Aunt: Aunt Sammy’s Homebody Vodka. You’ll never drink it alone.

[END OF WEIRD AD TIME]

Riley: ...And so basically, not only did I not get to eat any of the pudding that my mom made for her “guests”, there was almost certainly not an apocalypse of any kind today.

Evelyn: Well, at the end of the day, it’s at least there’ll be an end of the day.

Riley: Good job getting rid of that pudding cult, by the way. I’m legitimately impressed.

Evelyn: Oh, they’re not gone. I just tricked them all into inhabiting the bathroom for the rest of time.

Riley: Okay, retracting my earlier statement. [Beat] I’m never gonna take a normal shit again, am I?

Evelyn: Have you ever?

Riley: Not saying I disagree, I just really wish I could.

Evelyn: I’m sorry, It’s the best I could do.

Riley: Well, Evelyn, you were right about one thing today.

Evelyn: I was?

Riley: Yeah. Turns out, I am going to hell. Every time I have the audacity to wash or piss or - dark eldritch gods forbid - have a bowel movement.

Evelyn: Riley, I’m so sorry.

Riley: [Bitter] No, it’s fine. After all, I totally deserve it.

SOUND: Death arises from a magic portal.

Death: Oof. Sorry I’m late, mortals. Looks like things got real ugly over here - and I should know, I’ve got a skull for a face.

Riley: No kidding, who are you?

Evelyn: Oh wait, I know this guy! Hey, Death!

Death: Well, this is awkward. I’m totally blanking on your name.

Evelyn: Evelyn Hooper! We met 16 years ago.

Death: Sorry, there are so many of you. I can barely remember last year.

Evelyn: It was the Nickelback concert in ‘04, the one where I was fatally crushed by a lighting fixture?

Death: Ah, now it’s coming back to me. No wait, it’s going. Crap. Anyhow, I’m Death, nice to meet you.

Riley: Gotta say, I’m pretty surprised you haven’t come to visit us before, Death.

Evelyn: Riley’s body count is well into the double digits.

Riley: If we’re low-balling it and not counting animals, sure.

Death: Oh, I tend to remain invisible to killers most of the time. Some really creepy fan letters taught me that lesson. I’m actually in the neighborhood tonight because there seems to have been a mix-up.

Riley: You don’t say?

Death: [Embarrassed] Yes, apparently there was a gas explosion down the street at a communal living arrangement, and a lot of people died at once. Total shitshow, for lack of a more eloquent phrase.

Evelyn: This wouldn’t happen to be some kind of pudding cult, would it?

Death: To be honest, I haven’t the faintest idea. In cases like this, I usually just transfer the souls over to the nearest independent afterlife and head over to personally sort it out once the dust clears.

Riley: So, why didn’t you?

Death: That’s just it, actually. Someone registered this basement as an afterlife.

Evelyn: It wasn’t me.

Riley: Evelyn!

Evelyn: No, it really wasn’t. Why do you always interpret denials as cover ups?

Riley: The fang fairy and MK-Ultra!

Death: That aside, it says here that a Mister Jon Wheeler signed the paperwork about two months ago?

Riley: This is why you never let in the pizza boy.

Evelyn: Do we - I mean, I - get any special benefits for this being an afterlife?

Death: That’s really not my department. You should reach out to your local benevolent deity.

Riley: We don’t have any of those around here.

Evelyn: Still a better afterlife than Todd’s Heaven.

SOUND: Death grunts in frustration.

Death: If you don’t mind, can we focus? I’m way behind on today’s harvest as it is. The point of me coming here is that these misplaced souls need to be redirected to the proper afterlife.

Riley: Good, I want them gone.

Evelyn: Me too.

Death: It’s not that simple. I need to pass judgement on each of them using my scythe, so I know what direction they’re headed in.

Evelyn: I thought it was just two directions: up where I was headed...

Riley: ...or down, with me and the other jerks.

Death: That’d be simpler, but things are rarely so black and white. There’s far more than two kinds of afterlives, and over the years I’ve had to abandon a physical scythe in favor of this mobile app. [Sigh] It’s still buffering.

Riley: Wow, so even Death is a slave to trends.

Evelyn: I’m not surprised, when I died he threw a Beyblade at me.

Death: We all have our phases. You’re probably ashamed of being a Nickelback fan now.

Evelyn: Actually, I’m still a huge fan.

Death: I’m sorry for your loss.

Evelyn: Hey!

Death: Sorry. Don’t mean to judge. Force of habit.

Riley: Death, you feeling alright? You seem pretty stressed out.

Death: Ha! Stressed out? You wanna know how stressful this job is? When I started working here, I had skin and hair! The last time I had a free evening to go on a date was during the Big Bang, which was a literal experience for me. Now I've got two kids I haven't seen in millennia, and because none of you mortals can stop dying for one stinking day, I never rest! Ever! Existence is a relentless pit with greased walls from which I can never climb free!

Evelyn: Jeez. No offence, Death, but you're kind of a downer.

Death: [Sarcastic] Oh, I'm sorry! You realise I'm the Grim Reaper, right? Not the happy, fluffy, rainbows and puppies Reaper.

Riley: Okay, okay, dial back the sass, Boney M.

SOUND: Alexa voice “Welcome to Scythe Mobile.”

Death: Ah, finally! It’s booted up.

Riley: Why’d you pick that name?

Evelyn: Yeah, it feels a little clunky.

Death: I was gonna call it Reaper, but apparently that's an audio software already.

Riley: I wouldn't know, I use Audacity.

SOUND: Riley clicking phone.

Death: What are you doing?

Riley: What do you think I’m doing? I’m downloading Scythe Mobile.

Death: Why?

Riley: I’m gonna review it on our show.

Death: Please be constructive, it’s been a long week, I’m feeling fragile.

Riley: You designed this yourself?

Death: I had a prototype back in 2009, but it was really a chance meeting with Steve Jobs in 2011 that helped me take it to the next level.

Riley: It’s a shame it wasn’t Wozniak. Then the app might actually work.

Death: Well, given his preference for coffee and Philly Cheese Steaks, I'm sure I'll get his input soon enough.

SOUND: Alexa voice “Welcome to Scythe Mobile.”

Death: How did you get it to load so fast?

Riley: You gotta clear your cookies, man.

Death: You’re assuming I have time to eat.

Riley: Yeah, you really shouldn't be using an app. [beat] Whoa, okay, this interface is breaking my brain.

Death: Oh, is it? Has the mortal not seen an omnidimensional swiping tool before?

Riley: Evelyn, come look at this.

Evelyn: Jeepers, it’s like a kaleidoscope made out of mobius strips.

Riley: Listeners, if you can somehow hear how terrible this is to look at, I’m sorry for doing this to you.

Death: So much for being constructive.

Riley: Get the pudding cult out of my bathroom!

Death: I’m working on it. [Beat] And… done.

Evelyn: Was that it? I thought this stuff was more complicated than that.

Death: Oh, it is. So complicated, in fact, that you can’t even begin to comprehend why it seemed so brief in your perception of time.

Riley: You’re a real weirdo, Death.

Death: Go ahead and check your washroom. I think you’ll find it free of unwanted apparitions.

Riley: [excited] You don’t mean…

SOUND: Riley gets up, runs to the bathroom door, and opens it.

Riley: Aw fuck.

Pizza Ghost Jon: Hey, Riley. Do you know where those guys went? One of them said he was going to slather pudding on me and I was kind of into it.

Riley: You’ll see them in hell, Jon.

SOUND: Door slam.

Riley: I knew it was too good to be true.

Evelyn: Are the rest of them gone, at least?

Riley: [Grumpy] Yeah, I guess.

Evelyn: Hooray! I’m gonna count that as another win for us.

Death: Don’t worry about the check, you can have this one on the house.

Riley: Didn’t realize that not being haunted by a cult was pay to play.

Evelyn: Thanks for all your help, Death.

Death: Fare thee well, Emily Cooper. And uh… I’m sorry… totally blanking here…

Riley: Get out of here!

Death: Fine, I’m going. I’ll see you in ten years.

Riley: Damn right, you will. [Beat] I mean, wait, what?

SOUND: Death vanishes into a vortex in the floor.

Riley: Well, there was no pudding, but I still feel crushed. [Beat] Damn it, I forgot to ask Death which direction I was going.

Evelyn: Why would you need to ask him directly? You’ve got the app right there.

Riley: Huh, good point. Let’s give it a shot.

SOUND: Riley hits a button and we hear a prompt noise come up.

Evelyn: Oh, wow, I was way off.

Riley: Were you? I mean, this seems nothing like what I’d imagined.

Evelyn: But it’s not the worst.

Riley: Definitely not the worst.

Evelyn: So that’s something.

Riley: Yeah.

Evelyn: You know I just said that because I was scared the world was ending, right?

Riley: Yes, Evelyn. I’m aware.

Evelyn: Also, you were being really mean to me at the time.

Riley: Okay, okay. I'm sorry for being a dick.

Evelyn: Come to think of it, what is going to happen to me when you’re gone?

Riley: Who knows? Could be that there’s an afterlife out there where a hundred Chad Kroegers play the greatest hits on a stage of sunshine.

Evelyn: You really think so, Riles?

Riley: Yeah. And maybe there’s another one that’s just all pudding. Like pudding all the way down.

Evelyn: Well, I’ll tell you what, if things don’t work out wherever you end up going, you can always move back here with me.

Riley: Who says you’re getting the basement? If anything, Jon seems to have signed the afterlife lease.

Evelyn: I have ways of getting it back.

Riley: You’re not gonna try to flush him down the toilet again, are you?

Evelyn: Okay, I don’t have ways.

[THE END]