Episode 110: Floridian Gothic
Riley and Evelyn are locked in the basement while a storm rages outside. During this dark and stormy night, they’ll meet an old “friend”, and a new threat.
+Transcript
SOUND: Muffled rain fades in, accompanied by wind and general storm ambiance.
Riley: We’re recording. All systems are “Go.”
Evelyn: You sure you want to do this now?
Riley: If we die, I need a record of it. The people must know! If we don't, they're gonna assume the black ops did it, and those government stooges have enough on their plate without false assassination claims.
Evelyn: I was thinking more about the storm noises messing up the audio.
Riley: If people wanted audio quality, they'd listen to NPR and have to deal with their constant e-begging. The ride-or-dies will weather the storm for us, literally.
Evelyn: …I guess that’s fair. Maybe they'd beg less if the government funded them better.
Riley: The big wigs and fat cats have the government in their pockets. They'll take the NPR money and spend it on tanks for cops and surveillance cameras that can read minds, and the world becomes just that little bit more of a controlled, totalitarian nightmarescape.
Evelyn: [exasperated pause] … So, what’s the topic, Riles? Riley: I was thinking….
SOUND: Riley is cut off by the theme song.
Evelyn: I don’t know if that’s appropriate… Could we maybe try something else…?
Riley: [sighs] How about we all sit around braiding each others hair and talking about boys, then, huh?
Evelyn: We already did that, remember?
Riley: UGH. Alright, let's give the listeners some context, just in case this audio sounds like ass and they feel entitled to an explanation.
Evelyn: Right! Because we live in Florida, we’re currently in the midst of Hurricane Meldor!
Riley: You’re probably wondering: what's up with that name? Nobody’s called Meldor. Well, you’d be surprised. The cruelty of the parental class knows no limits.
Evelyn: Bet that makes you feel a little better about your mom.
Riley: You would think so, but no. Not at all.
Evelyn: Your next question is probably: Why did they give the hurricane such a weird name, anyway? I'll tell you, listeners: according to the National Academy of Sciences, hurricanes with feminine names have higher death rates, because people assume there's less of a threat and don't prepare as much.
Riley: And the patriarchy strikes again.
Evelyn: To combat this, the NOAA has decided, for any hurricanes hitting Florida, they'd give it an insanely threatening name to make sure people take it seriously.
Riley: Hurricane Meldor comes on the tail of Hurricane Face-Fucker, Hurricane Manson, Hurricane Cancer, and Hurricane ISIS.
Evelyn: I feel threatened by those and I’m already dead, so it must be working.
Riley: That’s why we’re presently hunkered down in the basement - as usual - except this time, there's a few key differences.
Evelyn: We’re holding hands!
Riley: No. DIFFERENCE ONE: Hand-crank battery charger to keep my laptop running without the need to depend on the stupid municipal grid. DIFFERENCE TWO: Several sharpened katanas from the mall to fend off any roving bands of pillagers who want our supplies during the storm. DIFFERENCE THREE: Enough canned tuna to last us between 3 months and 300 years, depending on how we ration it.
Evelyn: So, not the power of friendship?
Riley: That too, I guess.
Evelyn: The forecast only said the storm would last for a day or two, it's not exactly Mad Max. We can afford to chill out a little.
SOUND: Lightning strike outside.
Riley: Your first mistake is believing anything the weather forecast says. If they were all that prophetic, how come they didn't stop 9/11 from happening, huh?
Evelyn: That’s not how meteorology works, Riley.
Riley: Meteorology is bunk science invented by the deep state. It's all connected, Ev - global warming is a tool of the government meant to kill off all the bees, so they can replace the bees with pollinating camera drones! Why else wouldn't they do anything to stop such an otherwise easily preventable disaster?
Evelyn: They’re all old and like money a lot?
Riley: Too easy. Just a smokescreen. As if someone would put the entire planet in jeopardy for money.
Evelyn: Well… [noncommittal noise]
Riley: I've also packed an aqualung in case this is the big one and we’re kissing dry land goodbye, and then we’ll all need to face off against the armies of the Crab Lord. Which, incidentally, is why I bought this crossbow.
SOUND: Crossbow string being pulled tight.
Evelyn: Personally, I think the Crab Lord has some pretty good policies. Especially on gun control.
Riley: Which is why I got a crossbow rather than an AR-15. If he wins, he can't take it away from me.
Evelyn: Anything else on your crazy apocalyptic shopping list?
Riley: Well, other than that, it's mostly the essentials. Flashlights, water, Mystery-Flavored AirHeads. And, of course, I've got some emergency rations in the bathroom.
Teddy: [muffled by bathroom door] You still recording your radio show in there, Rie-Rie?
Riley: Yes, Dad, could you keep it down?
Teddy: [muffled by bathroom door] Okay!
Evelyn: Riley! You can't eat your dad!
Riley: Desperate times call for desperate measures, Evelyn! He's older and larger and therefore drains more finite resources than me.
Evelyn: Still, he's the nice one! What about your mom?
Riley: Mom went out to the store to get some industrial-strength eyelash curlers. Her old ones shattered when she tried to use them.
Evelyn: Isn't she worried about the storm?
Riley: [deadpan] It won't kill her. Nothing will. Believe me, I've tried.
Evelyn: [chipper] That’s concerning!
SOUND: Door slams open, the storm is louder and something solid tumbles to the floor. Windows slam shut and the storm is quiet once more.
Tiffany: Phew! I lived! I think that calls for a celebratory rip.
SOUND: Longest fucking bong rip ever.
Evelyn: How did she...?
Riley: … Tiffany…? What are you doing here?
SOUND: Finally the bong rip ends. Tiffany sighs.
Tiffany: Oh, sorry dude, do you want some?
Riley: No! I want you out of my house, pronto! You're stinking up the place.
Evelyn: People in glass basements, Riley...
Tiffany: But I just got here!
Evelyn: Ask why she’s here.
Riley: I’m about to.
Tiffany: Oh man, the goat is here too?
Riley: No, no, no, not again! This is the one apocalyptic contingency I didn't prepare for: Terminal stoner dipshittery.
SOUND: Tiffany takes a sip from her bong.
Evelyn: Oh my gosh, did she just...
Riley: Yep.
Tiffany: Bong juice, anyone? It's tangy.
Riley: Thanks, I hate that and I’d rather die.
Tiffany: Whatevs, more for me!
SOUND: Tiffany slurps again. Riley and Ev gag.
Riley: What the hell are you doing here, Tiffany? Shouldn't you be at Walmart?
Evelyn: Shouldn't she be at home?
Riley: No, Walmart only closes when the Pope’s in the country. It stays open during hurricanes so they can use employees like sandbags to protect the windows.
Evelyn: [genuinely mulling this over] … Huh. Walmart sucks.
Tiffany: Well, my shift ended and I had a reservation at the Chilli’s on Apache Parkway for my tinder date, and I wasn't just gonna let that reservation slide for some dumb rain.
Riley: There's gale-force winds out there. I think a car floated by a second ago.
SOUND: Faint “beep beep” from a car floating past.
Tiffany: Like that has ever stopped Tiffany.
Riley: Did you just refer to yourself in the third person?
Tiffany: I've been DMing this guy for days and he is hung. I refuse to give up on that.
Evelyn: Ooh, homegirl on a mission.
Riley: I respect your dedication but I cannot relate.
Tiffany: But, I guess that wasn't meant to be, so now I'm here. What are we drinking?
Riley: [sarcastic] Bong water, I guess.
Tiffany: Oh cool, a bong! I thought this was my phone. Wait, where's my phone? [beat] Shit, I must've smoked it again. That's my third this month.
Evelyn: Is she okay!?
Riley: What do you think?
Tiffany: I’m not really thinking anything at the moment. What about you?
Riley: [exhausted] For fuck’s sake, just come sit down, before you accidentally open the door and get us eaten by super-gators or some shit.
Tiffany: Cuuute! I’ve never seen a super-gator before.
Riley: That’s because they’re invisible to their prey until they strike.
Tiffany: That sounds like some government engineering shit…
Riley: I KNOW, RIGHT!? [beat] Wait, no, we’re not friends, just sit your ass down.
Tiffany: I think we’re friends.
SOUND: Riley and Tiffany sitting down.
Riley: You said earlier you don’t think, period.
Tiffany: I'm sorry, I'm too high for this. Just gotta sober up.
SOUND: Another bong rip.
Riley: No!
SOUND: Bong rip cuts off. Glass shatters.
Tiffany: Awww! My bong! It’s my only one shaped like a furby.
Evelyn: I have to admit, it was kinda cute...
Riley: You don't sober up by taking another bong rip!
Tiffany: [annoyed] Hair of the dog that bit me, jerk!
Riley: That’s not how it works!
Evelyn: Maybe we should just all take a chill pill.
Riley: She looks like she's taken enough already.
Tiffany: I'm not the one talking to an imaginary go--
Riley: DON’T.
SOUND: Muffled conversation in the background.
Tiffany: Who’s that?
Riley: That’ll be my dad. He’s watching sports on that mini, portable TV again.
SOUND: Riley opens the bathroom door. We can hear ambient sports broadcasting noises.
Teddy: Dang, that right there is some good sports. I wish I had someone to talk to about it.
Pizza Ghost Jon: Being dead sure is fun. I love not being able to join in on conversations aBOUT THE THIngS I LOVE.
SOUND: Riley closes the door. Muffled sports noises continue.
Tiffany: Your dad’s a DILF.
Riley: Never say that again or I will eat your tongue.
Evelyn: I can kinda get it. Sweet domestic men have their appeal, if you're into that kind of thing.
Riley: Most people aren’t.
Evelyn: Most people need to get over their preconceptions about masculinity.
Riley: Evelyn, first of all, you're gay, second of all, stop talking about my dad’s sex appeal, all of you!
Tiffany: The Goat’s name is Evelyn?
Riley: I WILL FUCKING END YOU, TIFFANY! And it will look like an accident!
Evelyn: Be patient with her! She’s trying…!
Riley: Yeah, my patience!
Tiffany: Is that a huge pile of tuna cans?
Riley: Yes. I'm preparing for the inevitable collapse of western civilisation. And also Hurricane Meldor.
Tiffany: Wow, you're really prepared.
Riley: Oh. Thanks. I try.
Evelyn: Wow, is this...progress?
Tiffany: Where's the meth?
Evelyn: And there it goes.
Riley: What!?
Tiffany: For Florida Man.
SOUND: Lightning strikes.
Riley: Florida Man?
SOUND: Lightning strikes.
Tiffany: Yeah, Florida Man.
SOUND: Lightning strikes.
Evelyn: What's with all the lightning?
Riley: Yeah, how come lightning keeps striking?
Tiffany: Oh, it happens when you say Florida Man.
SOUND: Lightning strikes.
Tiffany: It’s for dramatic effect.
Evelyn: Oh cool! Florida Man, Florida Man, Florida Man!
SOUND: Lightning strikes three times.
Riley: Everybody, stop saying Florida Man!
[Beat.]
Riley: How come it didn't strike that time?
Tiffany: It only does it the first seven times. After that, the joke gets kind of stale.
Evelyn: Why do we need the meth?
Riley: Evelyn’s asking why we need the meth.
Tiffany: Well, whenever there's a hurricane, Florida Man moves from home to home with the wind, collecting his tribute of one baggie of crank to ensure safety in the storm. Fuckin’ duh!
Riley: Shit! Of course, I knew I was forgetting something.
Evelyn: Dang it, Riley, you bought a DVD box set of every episode of Professor Huh in case SilverStream went down during the storm, but you forgot Florida Man’s meth!?
Riley: Stop berating me! I can’t remember everything!
Evelyn: You said you remember everything in episode one!
Riley: I don't remember saying that!
Tiffany: [happy, just wanting to join in] I don’t remember anything!
Evelyn: Where can we get meth on such short notice?
Riley: I don't know. The deep web? Shit, they won't deliver during the hurricane.
Tiffany: I think Amazon was doing a deal on meth.
Riley: Of course!
SOUND: Alexa activates.
Alexa: We can--
Riley: Fuck off, Alexa!
SOUND: Alexa deactivates.
Riley: This is a disaster. What does Florida Man do to you if you don't have his meth?
Tiffany: I'm not sure, nobody ever lives to share their stories.
Riley: FUCK!
Evelyn: Riley, panicking won't help.
Riley: You're already dead! Panicking helps me plenty!
Tiffany: I’m not dead.
Riley: NOT YOU! THE GOAT. I MEAN GHOST. FUCK!
SOUND: Thunder cracks. Generator dies.
Tiffany: He’s heeere!
Riley: Where’s the crank? Where's the fucking crank!?
Evelyn: We don’t have any!
Tiffany: I know a guy, but it may take a few days.
Riley: I meant for the generator, you goddamn morons!
SOUND: Creepy, wheezing chuckle of the Florida Man.
Florida Man: Did someone say meth?
Riley: Literally no one said meth.
Tiffany: But you did just now.
Florida Man: So no meth, then?
SOUND: Long silence. Only the muffled storm outside and Florida man’s uncomfortable heavy breathing can be heard.
Riley: Would you, by chance, prefer a can of tuna instead? I have a lot of it to spare.
SOUND: Thunder cracks.
Florida Man: Tuna’s too salty - and don't even get me started on the mercury! Are you trying to kill me!?
Evelyn: But… the meth--
Tiffany: Shhh! You can’t question Florida Man!
Riley: I didn't even think Florida Man existed until like ten seconds ago! I thought he was just one of those lies your parents tell you, like the Fang Fairy or trickle-down economics.
SOUND: Creepy Florida Man chuckle.
Florida Man: Oh, I'm real, baby. I'm really real. Every story you've heard is true - The twelve-car police chase where I stopped off at the Mickey D’s drive thru? True. The 18 foot banana I stole and tied to the top of a two-seat smart car? True.
Riley: Uh, I’m feeling very uncomf--
Florida Man: [interrupting Riley] Burned down an apartment complex because the landlord threatened to kick me out if I didn’t stop masturbating loudly to My Little Pony fan animations? The truest of all.
SOUND: Florida man’s creepy chuckle turns into a small wheezing sob.
Evelyn: Is he crying…?
Tiffany: It’s kinda hot.
Riley: So uh… is something going to happen, or are we all just going to stand around talking about whatever this is? Florida Man: Oh, right, thanks for reminding me. I'm gonna have to kill y’all.
Evelyn: Riley!
Florida Man: Okey-dokey-Okeechobee. So, how'd you wanna die? I can either infect you with these official Disney Parks-brand brain-eating amoebas , or I can throw you to the horde of military-grade cassowaries I keep in the back of my truck. I call ‘em Murder Turkeys.
Evelyn: I mean, I'm already dead, so none of this really applies to me.
Florida Man: Doesn't mean you're off the hook, little missy. I've trained my vape clouds to fight ghosts. It’s cherry flavoured!
SOUND: Florida Man vapes.
Evelyn: [Nervous] Oh no, this guy really means business.
Riley: We are so fucked.
Tiffany: Is there anything we can do to maybe not die, Mr. Florida Man?
Florida Man: ‘Fraid not, darlin’. But I am easily distracted, so you can probably stall for time.
Tiffany: But like… with what?
Florida Man: You could ask me about my past, my likes, my dislikes. My backstory might be a good start.
Riley: Wh--
Florida Man: Y’see, it all started when I was just a twinkle in my dad’s balls…
Tiffany: I like where this is going already.
Riley: Of course you do, Tiffany.
Florida Man: I was born on the back of a gator in the middle of a hurricane--
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SOUND: epic music
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Florida Man: … And that’s why you can’t eat sixty four packets of processed cheese while suffering from bird flu.
Riley: [sarcastic] Inspiring.
Evelyn: I did not follow any of that at all.
Tiffany: He just gets more and more interesting!
SOUND: Florida man claps his hands together. It’s uncomfortably moist sounding.
Florida Man: Welp! Talkin’s over! Time to kill y’all!
Tiffany: Aww fuck… and I didn’t even get to meet up with my tinder date.
Florida Man: Me neither, honey. It’s a tough, cruel, tough, cruel--
Riley: Tough?
Florida Man: --World.
Evelyn: Wait! I have an idea! What if we cook him some meth!
Riley: How?
Tiffany: How what?
Riley: Evelyn wants to cook him meth somehow.
Florida Man: Meth, y’say?
Evelyn: We do say! Right, Riles?
Riley: Uh, yeah. We just need to uh… Go to the bathroom. Make the preparations and all that…
Tiffany: I’ll stay here as collateral!
Riley: Great, you can be like our human damage deposit. Well, Evelyn, guess it’s time to cook - be right back.
Evelyn: Hopefully!
SOUND: Recording clicks off. Silence for a couple seconds.
SOUND: Recording clicking back on. Audio quality is echoey - they’re clearly in the bathroom.
Riley: [lowered voice] Okay, so we’re in the bathroom now. Say hi, everyone.
Pizza Ghost Jon: Sup.
Teddy: Hi, Riley’s little internet friends!
Riley: Cool. Now shut up for the rest of the episode.
Teddy: [small voice, disappointed] Aw...
Riley: So, how the hell are you planning on pulling this off, Hooper?
Evelyn: I wasn’t actually suggesting we cook meth! I’ve never even done a weed, Riley! Not a single weed! I was my highschool class’ D.A.R.E. ambassador!
Riley: Of course you were. So what now?
Evelyn: I was just trying to get us away from him for a while so we could think up a real plan.
Riley: Well, I mean… cooking meth doesn’t sound like such a bad idea…
Evelyn: Riley!
Riley: No no no, listen. It doesn’t have to be real meth.
Evelyn: … Go on.
Riley: We can make it out of random stuff around the bathroom. Like uhhh… This toothpaste and uhhh...
SOUND: Riley looking through the cabinets.
Pizza Ghost Jon: I can help--
SOUND: Riley knocking down random bottles.
Riley: [sounding distracted] Not now, Jon.
Pizza Ghost Jon: But I--
Riley: Jon, shut the fuck up! I'm trying to think!
Evelyn: Riley! C’mon, at least hear what he has to say!
SOUND: Riley sighing, exasperated.
Riley: [defeated] Okay, Jon, what do you want?
Pizza Ghost Jon: Before you killed me, I was a bored millennial with a dead-end job.
Riley: So?
Pizza Ghost Jon: What I’m saying is that I’ve watched all the episodes of Breaking Bad like, six times over. I can help you make it look like the real stuff.
Teddy: Riley, it’s just you and me in the room. Are you talking to your imaginary friends again?
Riley: [annoyed] Silence, father. I'm trying to save our lives!
Pizza Ghost Jon: All we need is…
Riley: Some of that blue shampoo, maybe?
Evelyn: Yeah, that’ll work!
Pizza Ghost Jon: …And some bath salts for texture. Maybe that tooth paste over there to stick it all together.
Evelyn: Yay! Teamwork! This is really coming together already!
Teddy: Can you maybe run what you’re doing by me one more time?
Riley: Making fake drugs. Try to keep up!
Teddy: Well. This isn’t an ideal situation, but it sure is fun that we’re doing some crafts together, eh, Rie-Rie? Some fun father-daughter together time? [Chuckles] Y’know, this reminds me of when you were just a little--
Riley: Shut up, Dad, this is a life or meth situation.
SOUND: Contents of medicine cabinet being shuffled around, clattering.
Riley: Okay, gang, does this look like crystal meth?
Evelyn: [chipper] I have no idea!
Pizza Ghost Jon: Close enough. It’s not Heisenberg quality, but I wasn’t expecting that anyway.
Teddy: You did so great, angel!
Riley: Alright… Ev, you ready?
Evelyn: I don’t think I’ll ever be ready, but…
Riley: Good. Let’s go.
SOUND: Door creaking open.
Riley: Hey, we got your meth-- [disgusted] Oh my god!
Evelyn: Well, I can never unsee this.
SOUND: Sloppy makeout noises.
Tiffany: [Tiffany pulls away with a loud pop, panting] I hope my tinder date doesn’t feel bad about this.
Florida Man: Me too. We were supposed to meet up at Chili’s.
Tiffany: Same! We had reservations at the Chilli’s on--
Florida Man: Apache Parkway?
Tiffany: [gasps] On the count of three, drop your pants, and I’ll lift up my shirt. One… Two...
Riley: What are we witnessing here. Why do strangers keep exposing themselves in my basement?
Tiffany: Three!
SOUND: Zip of Florida Man’s pants before they drop to the floor. Jangling of jewellery as Tiffany pulls up her shirt.
Tiffany & Florida Man: [together] IT IS YOU!
Riley: I hate this.
Florida Man: How about you and I blow this popsicle stand?
Tiffany: Uh, is the pope like… the pope? Let’s go!
Riley: Hey, wait, what about--
SOUND: Riley shaking baggie of “meth”.
Evelyn: Let it go, Riles.
Florida Man: Hey, don’t worry, you’ll see me again. It’s florida, after all!
SOUND: Epic speech music fades in.
Florida Man: I’m wherever there is true Floridian spirit to be found. Every time someone tosses an alligator through the drive thru window at McDonalds as a prank, I’ll be there. Every time a drunk spring breaker falls off a hotel balcony, I’ll be there. Every time someone’s baby shoots them by accident, I’ll be there. Because Florida isn’t a place…. it’s a state of being. And the real florida...is right here.
Riley: ...Why are you pointing to my boob? That’s not where my heart is.
Florida Man: I know.
Tiffany: [sniffles] That was beautiful…
SOUND: A strong gust of wind tears away the entire house, leaving the basement exposed. The wind is strong, the rain is loud, the Florida Man is at 100% power.
Florida Man: Come, KushGal1993, our reservation awaits.
Tiffany: I want a margarita and some boneless hot wings.
Florida Man: You can have any appetizers and drinks you want, baby. They know me there.
SOUND: Loud whoosh of wind and a crack of lightning. They are both gone.
Evelyn: [chipper] What just happened?
Riley: Peak. Florida.
SOUND: Long pause. Storm subsides a little.
Evelyn: So, turns out we didn’t die! Or, in my case, double-die!
Riley: This time.
Evelyn: And the storm’s dying down a little, too.
Riley: [Sarcastic] Yeah. Great. Wonderful. Meldor spared us.
Evelyn: Wait, why aren't you happy about that?
Riley: Look, don't get me wrong, I'm grateful this time wasn’t the apocalypse, but at the same time, I am kinda pissed I did all this doomsday prep for nothing.
Evelyn: You've got a real talent for finding the negative in any situation.
Riley: Let me mope, it's the only way I can stay sane. I'm gonna get dinner.
Evelyn: What are you having?
Riley: Tuna. For the next three years.
SOUND: Riley leans over and clicks the audio off.
[THE END]