A new takeout place has opened up in Riley’s neighbourhood, so naturally, they're eager to see what the place is made of. However, the numbers involved in Riley’s takeout order end up summoning the ghost of Tarrare - a legendary French weirdo who ate damn near everything.

+Transcript

SOUND: Riley and their mom argue outside the basement. It’s muffled; unintelligible. It sometimes sounds like human speech, but is regularly smattered with creepy, loud ghoul noises.

Evelyn: [Nervous] Hey everybody, welcome to Less Is Morgue, the show where a ghost and a ghoul talk about stuff. I'm Evelyn, your Ghost--

SOUND: Loud ghoul screech.

Evelyn: You get the idea. Riley’s just outside, uh, settling something. They'll be back soon, I hope.

SOUND: The door opens, Riley enters.

Riley: [Yelling at their mom] You know what? I wish I hadn't had you, either!

SOUND: Riley slams the door and groans. Footsteps down the stairs.

Riley: [Quietly mutters angry complaints]

Evelyn: You okay?

Riley: I’m fine.

Evelyn: Want to talk about it?

Riley: [Exhales] One time - just one time - I’d like to be able to get my mail without being lambasted by my mother.

SOUND: Riley shuffles through their mail.

Evelyn: Ooh, lambasted. That's a good word.

Riley: She complains about the smell, but you know what? It'd be a lot easier to shower regularly if there wasn't a dead pizza guy in my bathroom!

Evelyn: Yeah, it’s unfair of her to put that on you.

Riley: Lemme tell you, I cannot wait to eat her corpse when she dies, just to get rid of her, you know?

Evelyn: You know how I feel about cursing, Riley, but what the fuck?

Riley: Ghoul funeral rite. It happens to all of us.

Evelyn: I forget sometimes how...not...human...you are.

Riley: It’s just your mind’s way of coping with absolute reality. Why do I always get so much junk mail?

Evelyn: I’m still stuck on the whole “eating your mom” thing.

Riley: It’s rude to linger, Evelyn. [Re: the mail] Bill, bill, bill, junk mail, changed address, bank notice…

Evelyn: But it’s not just the cannibalism thing, you can do a lot of weird stuff.

Riley: Such as?

Evelyn: Well, your blood is toxic, and you can bend all your joints in every direction, and you can do that weird mouth thing and eat stuff that’s bigger than your head. Am I missing anything?

Riley: I mean, I can shapeshift.

Evelyn: Wait, what!? Is that a Riley thing or a ghoul thing?

Riley: Ghoul thing. We can turn into anything we've eaten recently.

Evelyn: How come you've never done this around me?

Riley: Because my diet consists mainly of microwave meals, rodents, and bugs, and I don't want to look like any of that shit.

Evelyn: Could you turn into me?

Riley: Anything we've eaten recently. You left my system long ago.

Evelyn: But I'll always be in your heart.

Riley: [Irritated] Yup.

SOUND: Paper rustling.

Riley: A-ha!

Evelyn: What’s that?

Riley: It’s a reply from Mills and Mills and Mills and Mills. It’s a publishing house, I submitted one of my short stories.

Evelyn: Ooh, which one?

Riley: The one about the ghoul who falls in love with their dentist during a root canal.

Evelyn: Oh, I liked that one, it was sweet.

Riley: I changed the ending at the last minute to be a little more tragic: they end up eating his hands by mistake during the surgery, so it doesn't work out.

Evelyn: Less sweet.

SOUND: Paper tears.

Riley: Shit. They rejected it.

Evelyn: Oh no!

Riley: Apparently it’s an “affront to both literature and decency.” Their words, not mine.

Evelyn: That seems a little harsh.

Riley: [Sigh] You know, sometimes, Ev, I don't even know why I bother. It's like banging my head up against a brick wall, except the bricks are all letters saying “your writing sucks balls, Riley, give up.”

Evelyn: Maybe doing some podcasting will cheer you up? I'll let you pick the topic.

Riley: I appreciate the effort, but some days, you just can't save.

SOUND: Paper still rustling.

Riley: Junk mail, junk mail, junk mail, death threat from a fan, junk mail, [pleasantly surprised] anthrax, junk mail…What’s this?

Evelyn: It looks like a pamphlet. [Reading] “Last Chance Texas-Style Barbecue?”

Riley: [Gasps] You’re right! It’s for a new takeout place that just opened. Evelyn, do you know what this means?

Evelyn: That pile of bones in the corner is gonna get bigger?

Riley: Yes. But it also means that they won't know about my past indiscretions. Which, in turn, means that they'll deliver here. Which means, Evelyn, that the day is saved!

Evelyn: Yay!

SOUND: Shuffling, as Riley approaches the laptop.

Riley: Let’s get on GhostMates immediately and order ourselves a FEAST!

Evelyn: I mean it's really just for you, but woo! Teamwork!

Riley: [Typing] So much choice. Damn my limited internal real-estate.

Evelyn: If it makes you feel any better, your bar is higher than most. Remember that time you ate a whole dead goat in one sitting?

Riley: I’d just watched the finale of Oedipus 3000, I needed to comfort-eat. [Typing] God, why can’t it all be right here, right now? The space-time continuum is a fucking joke.

Evelyn: So what kind of stuff do you use shapeshifting for?

Riley: How come you're so curious about all this?

Evelyn: Well, I've known you for a while now, and I didn't even realise you basically had superpowers.

Riley: It’s an evolutionary hold-over, like the gallbladder. We used to use it to lure travellers off the road, but these days we've got well-stocked graveyards and fast food, so the whole shapeshifting thing is just a party trick. We can imitate voices, too.

Evelyn: Anyone’s voice?

Riley: [In Evelyn’s voice] Yup, anyone’s. Now let me order my food.

Evelyn: Ghouls are so weird.

Riley: [Typing] Only if you consider humans to be the default organism - which, by the way, is a fucked up thing to do.

Evelyn: Yeah, I guess you're right. You know, if I could shapeshift, I'd probably turn into a dog.

Riley: [Baffled] Why?

Evelyn: Everyone loves dogs!

Riley: Your mind is a scientific marvel, Evelyn.

SOUND: Riley clicks.

Riley: Aaaand done.

Evelyn: What did you order?

Riley: The sixteen, the ten, the seventeen, and the ninety-eight.

Evelyn: And what's that in English?

Riley: Rack of ribs, barbecue chicken, quarter pounder, and the chilli. I feel like I'm being rude, talking about this. Can ghosts get hungry?

Evelyn: I mean, I haven't experienced hunger since I died. I just kinda vaguely miss the concept of food and eating.

Riley: Oh cool, I regret nothing, then.

Evelyn: So what do you wanna talk about while we wait?

Riley: Actually, I do have a pretty incredible story for you. It's got action, suspense, tragedy, comedy, and a sense of sophisticated ennui.

Evelyn: I know what those words mean individually!

Riley: So it all started at the ATM. I still had half a stick of salami, but the cows were beginning to descend…

[WEIRD AD TIME]

SOUND: Whip crack! Followed by aggressively southern banjo music, playing throughout.

BBQ Dad: Are you ready to experience the taste of Texas? Are you in the mood for some barbecue? Do you really love eating ridiculous quantities of meat? Well you’re in luck, ‘cause The Last Chance Texas-Style Barbecue is now delivering with GhostMates.

SOUND: Cow mooing, followed by another whip crack.

BBQ Dad: Yessir, we’re delivering mouth-watering ribs, burgers, pork, sausages and tender beef brisket with our famous Texas flavour, right here in the greater Tallahassee area. The law drove us out of our original location in Fort Worth, but now all the health and safety concerns have been dealt with, and we are back on top. We ain’t got rats, we ain’t got possums, we might still have some bats, maybe a couple pythons, but they taste like chicken anyway, so it doesn’t matter.

SOUND: As he’s talking, the music starts to get steadily louder.

BBQ Dad: Come on down to our location right in the heart of the Ochlockonee River Wildlife Management Area, and try our award winning all-meat Texas chilli. You’ll go absolutely buck wild for Grandma’s famous brisket rolls. What’s our secret recipe? What are you, a cop? Don’t ask me that. Shut up.

SOUND: Steak sizzling on a barbecue. The banjo continues to get louder.

BBQ Dad: (shouting) If you use the GhostMates app and enter the promo code- (to the person playing the banjo) Bubba! Stop playin’ that god damn banjo so loud!

SOUND: Bubba makes some dejected noises before resuming the tune, extremely quietly.

BBQ Dad: If you use the GhostMates app and enter promo code ‘WE SLAUGHTER’ you’ll get 20% off your next order, and a free side of cheesy fries. The Last Chance Barbecue- a real taste of meat. Yeehaw!

SOUND: Whip crack.

[ END OF WEIRD AD TIME ]

Riley: --And then the car drove into a telephone pole and exploded.

Evelyn: Wow, the number of twists and turns in that story was incredible. But I think the recording glitched out.

Riley: Shit. Oh well, I won’t tell it again, it’d only ruin it.

SOUND: Doorbell upstairs.

Riley: Oh wow, the food arrived right after I finished that story! How convenient.

SOUND: Riley excitedly running up the stairs, on all fours. Door opens.

Riley: [from upstairs] Thank you.

Bubba: [Unintelligible noises]

SOUND: Bubba hands them the bags of food. The door closes. Riley, carrying the bags, comes downstairs.

Evelyn: Listeners, just so you're not deprived of the mental image I've got right now: Riley is coming downstairs on all fours like some kind of goblin, but they're still somehow carrying all the food.

Riley: [Mouth Full] It’s a gift.

SOUND: They click on their laptop.

Riley: Let’s see...do I want to tip ‘Bubba’? Well, we want to stay in this restaurant’s good books in case I do anything inadvisable in the future, so...yeah, ten dollars.

Evelyn: I’m glad you’ve thought ahead this time.

Riley: And now, time to eat.

SOUND: Riley tears through the paper.

Riley: Oh god, it smells so fucking good.

Evelyn: You've got that scary look in your eyes again, Riley.

Riley: [Chewing] This burger. Holy shit, Evelyn, if only you were alive.

Evelyn: Now I feel like you're just rubbing it in.

Tarrare: Could you describe the taste out loud, mon ami?

SOUND: Evelyn and Riley scream.

Tarrare: I did not think it was an unreasonable request, but whatever.

Evelyn: Who are you?

Riley: [Mouth full] Yeah, and what are you doing in my basement?

Evelyn: Riley, this is not the time for eating!

Riley: [Gulps] I’m sorry, it’s a really good burger!

Tarrare: Yes, but why? What are the specifics? Juicy? Tender? Moist?

Evelyn: What are you? Some kind of frog-man?

Tarrare: Do you say that because I am French?

Evelyn: Oh gosh, no, no, no, just because of the big eyes, slimy skin, and the fact you've got mouth for days.

Tarrare: If you must know, my name is Tarrare. I am a human being, and a ghost, like you, mademoiselle. In my time, during the Revolution, I was known for my great appetite - when I was alive, I'd eat a cow a day, and still need four more courses to be anywhere close to satisfied. I was a freak - poked and prodded and experimented on, but nobody ever made the effort to truly know me, so I wander the earth, a stranger to all but myself. A hungry soul, unable to eat, forever unsatisfied.

Riley: Wow. Sounds like a real bummer. [Eats a bite of burger]

Tarrare: Are you two recording a podcast?

Evelyn: How do you know what a podcast is? I only died sixteen years ago, and it took Riley a whole day to explain it to me.

Tarrare: Podcasts are the bane of my non-existence. The only time anyone speaks my name these days is when my tragic life story is being trotted out for cheap laughs on quirky comedy podcasts. I did not eat that baby, damn it! I did not!

Riley: Uh, nobody said you did?

Tarrare: [Quiet rage] Justin McElroy said I did.

Evelyn: Well, it's nice to meet you. I'm Evelyn, and this is my best friend, Riley. Do you have a last name, Tarrare? For the show notes.

Tarrare: Well, technically speaking, Tarrare is just my stage name. My real name is Jean-Luc Baptiste Gérard Alain Marcel--

Riley: Let’s stick with Tarrare.

Tarrare: [Sighs] Fine. Tarrare it is.

SOUND: Riley bites into their burger.

Riley: [Eating] So like, why are you here? Did I eat you too? Cause I feel like I'd remember eating someone as weird-looking as you. No offence.

Tarrare: None taken. You did not eat me, Riley, but I am here because of what you're eating.

Riley: [Gulps] Could you be a little more specific?

Evelyn: Yeah, that’s kinda cryptic.

SOUND: Tarrare sighs.

Tarrare: Your order: Sixteen. Ten. Seventeen. Ninety-eight. It corresponds to the exact date of my death - the sixteenth of October, seventeen ninety-eight.

Evelyn: Oh wow, you're so old!

Riley: [Eating] So that's all it takes?

Tarrare: What, did you want more?

Riley: That combo can't be that uncommon. I mean, aren't you just getting summoned constantly, all over the world?

Tarrare: No, only with orders from the Last Chance Texas-Style Barbecue.

Evelyn: Why?

Tarrare: Because the owners are my direct descendants.

Riley: [Gulps; coughs] Wait, I’m sorry, wait, wait. Hold up, time out, just a sec.

Tarrare: [Exhausted] What?

Riley: [Genuinely surprised] You fucked?

Tarrare: Please, it was the eighteenth century, everyone was ugly and smelled like shit. I was only slightly uglier and shittier than the average Parisian.

Riley: Yeah but, I mean, just look at you. Was she blind?

Tarrare: No, she was my one true love, Pauline, the lobster-clawed woman. We worked together briefly at a freak show in Dieppe, until the tension was too great to bear and culminated in a night of passionate big-top love-making. Of course, this made things weird at work, and we had to go our separate ways for professional reasons. When I left to join the war effort, she took her own life with nightshade wine out of despair. She must have given birth to our secret lovechild before then.

Evelyn: Oh no! That’s so awful!

Riley: And almost aggressively French.

Tarrare: My life has been a carousel of tragedy and woe. From my vicious beatings at the hands of the Prussians, all the way back to my father abandoning me when I was but ten years old. [Tearful] Papa, why wasn't I good enough for you? Why didn't you love me? I just wanted to--

SOUND: Riley is quietly munching.

Tarrare: Will you please stop eating!? You’re killing me here, metaphorically speaking.

Riley: Oh, speaking of, all this barbecue is human flesh.

Evelyn: What!?

Riley: You would think they'd put that on the website for allergy reasons, but apparently that's not the world we live in.

Evelyn: Are you positive it’s human?

Riley: Evelyn, you of all people should be aware that I know what human beings taste like. [Chewing] Really, I should have seen this coming, seeing as the delivery guy was wearing a mask made of human skin, but I don't keep up with fashion - I figured it might've just been what was in this season, you know?

Tarrare: [Sighs] This doesn’t surprise me. My descendants are terrible people - when I first manifested, I attempted to connect with them, and the oldest one chased me out with a broom handle, and accused me of being a homosexual.

Evelyn: Wait, Riley, so could you turn into the people you've just eaten?

Riley: Uh, yeah, in theory, I'm a little rusty, though.

Evelyn: Please? Pretty please with sugar and a cherry on top? I'd love to see it!

Tarrare: I am, how you say, terribly lost. Both in a wider, existential sense, and also in the sense I have no idea what either of you are talking about.

Riley: It’d take too long to explain. Which one do you want me to try?

Evelyn: Try the burger first!

Riley: Okay, just gimme a sec, and don't look at me while I'm doing it, I need to concentrate and I can't do it while you're watching.

SOUND: Riley grunts in the background, like they're trying to take a shit.

Evelyn: So, uh, Tarrare, I'm sorry your dad threw you out.

Tarrare: You know, when my father abandoned me, it left a hole I wasn’t able to fill. I never saw him again after that day. On my deathbed, I assumed that the hunger that plagued me would die with my body, but I think it was what he did that put the hunger in my soul.

SOUND: Freaky, fleshy noises.

Businessman - Riley: I did it! Guys, look, I fucking did it! Fuck, British accent. That’s weird.

Evelyn: Oh my gosh. You look totally different!

Businessman - Riley: Well, yeah, it’s shapeshifting. That’s the point.

Tarrare: What strange wonders this new world holds. You'd have done gangbusters at the freak show.

Businessman - Riley: I wonder who this guy was. He looks like an accountant.

Evelyn: Could you try the chilli now?

SOUND: The freaky, fleshy noises again.

Riley: Was one not enough?

Evelyn: I just wanted to see who was in it, is all.

Riley: Fine. Just look away.

SOUND: Riley continues to grunt and strain.

Evelyn: So Tarrare, do you think if you got a chance to talk to your father again, you'd feel better?

Tarrare: Perhaps, but who knows? It doesn't matter now. He died hundreds of years ago. I'm doomed to wander the earth, getting roasted on podcast after podcast until the sun swallows up the world and roasts us all.

SOUND: Freaky, fleshy noises. Riley now speaks in a weird, warped voice.

Abomination - Riley: Uh oh.

Evelyn: Holy moly!

Tarrare: Sacré bleu!

Abomination - Riley: I didn't know I could do this…

Evelyn: You look like twenty different people at once. It’s hurting my brain, and I can't even experience physical sensation!

Abomination - Riley: They must've put a lot of people in that chilli. One sec.

SOUND: Freaky, fleshy noises. Riley’s back to normal.

Riley: I’m gonna be sore in the morning.

Evelyn: I didn't know you could mix and match different parts.

Riley: Me either, guess you learn something new every day.

Evelyn: [Gasps] Brainblast! Tarrare, do you remember what your dad looked like?

Tarrare: Of course, I only wish I could forget, so I might know peace someday.

Riley: Evelyn...I know what you're gonna say, and I hate it.

Evelyn: It’s the least we can do for Tarrare! So, describe your father to us.

Tarrare: He was quite an average looking man, to be honest.

Riley: ...That’s not anything I can use.

Evelyn: Uh, yeah- maybe let’s be more specific. What color were his eyes?

Tarrare: Brown.

SOUND: Squishy eyeball noises.

Evelyn: And what about his hair?

Tarrare: Brown, but a light brown. Much like the color of the wood on that desk.

SOUND: Rustling hair noises.

Evelyn: And his skin?

Tarrare: Pale, and heavily pockmarked.

SOUND: Squishy skin noises.

Evelyn: Okay, so let’s get more detailed - how did his nose look?

Tarrare: Just, you know, normal.

Riley: I can’t work with that.

Tarrare: You know, he just had a normal nose. Just the nose that you think of when you think of what a nose looks like.

Riley: That could mean anything! Are we talking normal normal or French normal?

Tarrare: Here- just…give me a piece of paper, I’ll draw him.

Riley: You’re a ghost! You can’t hold the paper! You know what? I’m pausing the recording. This is gonna take a while.

SOUND: Shuffling, click, silence. A pause. Then click, and the sound’s back.

Evelyn: We’re almost there, I think you just need to make the moustache a little bigger.

Riley: This episode better get a million downloads for this shit.

SOUND: Freaky, fleshy noises.

Evelyn: Perfect. Tarrare, you can turn around now.

Tarrare: [Gasps] My god...it’s the spitting image of him...Papa?

Riley: [Sighs] Yes, son, it is I, your father.

Tarrare: [Deeply emotional] Papa, it's been so long, I thought I'd never see you again.

Riley: [Phoning it in] It’s been a long time, but neither time nor distance can dull the flame of my love for you, son.

Tarrare: [Choking up] Really? Because you'd think, if that were the case, you'd have let me stay in your home you, how you say, fucking asshole!

Evelyn: Oh wow, I didn’t see this coming.

Tarrare: You were a terrible father! All you ever did was drink and smoke and womanise--

Riley: This is all just standard, boilerplate French dude activity.

Tarrare: If you were any man at all, you'd have made sure that your family lived a happy and prosperous life. I shat myself to death in a Versailles hospital at twenty-six! Are you happy about that?

Riley: Uh, no?

Tarrare: Just what I thought! And now our descendants are uncultured American cannibals.

Riley: But they make great twenty-people chilli.

Tarrare: I wouldn't know, because I'm dead, because you were an awful dad! You remember what you told me before you abandoned me? You told me that you wished you hadn't even had me!

Riley: [He’s struck a nerve] Oh. Did I, uh, did I say that?

Tarrare: Oui!

Riley: That’s...that’s a shitty thing for any parent to say to their kid. Whether it's your dad or your, um, mom…

Evelyn: Uh, Riley, you're going off-script. Is everything okay?

Riley: For what it's worth, Tarrare, you didn't need me. In spite of all the awful shit I said, your memory lives on hundreds of years later. I'm just a footnote in your story. You became a person worth remembering, and you didn't need me to do it.

Tarrare: Yes. I suppose you're right about that. Kiss my fragrant French ass, Dad, it’s been nice seeing you.

SOUND: Tarrare sighs. He sounds happier than before.

Tarrare: Strange. There’s a new lightness to me now, like something’s been lifted from my chest. You know, I don't even feel hungry anymore. [Laughs] I think it's time to go.

Evelyn: Go where?

Tarrare: Wherever comes next. Thank you, Riley and Evelyn. If we end up in the same place, I'll save a bottle of wine for the three of us.

Riley: We’ll hold you to that.

Tarrare: [Voice fading] Au revoir!

SOUND: Ghostly noises. Tarrare is gone.

Evelyn: You okay, Riley?

Riley: [Sniffs] Me? Oh yeah, I'm fine, all good. Just, you know, some of that hit a little close to home.

Evelyn: I think what you said about him is true for you too, Riles. You're awesome, and your mom doesn't have anything to do with it.

Riley: Can I change back now? This is getting a little uncomfortable.

Evelyn: Yup.

SOUND: Fleshy noises as Riley shifts back.

Riley: God, I feel like I just ran a fucking marathon. I should not have done that on such a full stomach, cause now I've got a stitch.

Evelyn: I feel like “full stomach” is an understatement.

Riley: What's that supposed to mean?

Evelyn: How do I put this...you ordered like four whole meals, and looking at you right now, I feel like people would offer you their seat on the bus.

Riley: This is a non-visual medium. The only people who can judge me are you and God, and I've already come to terms with that.

Evelyn: Hey, who said I was judging?

SOUND: Riley groans.

Riley: Did this episode even have a theme? I feel like we dropped the ball on this one.

Evelyn: I got to see you shapeshift and we saved a spirit from eternal torment, so that's pretty cool.

Riley: Tell that to the reviewers. [Winces] I’m gonna feel dead in the morning.

Evelyn: [Sympathetically snarky] Oh, poor you, I couldn't imagine how that feels.

Riley: Up yours, Hooper. Let me have my self-pity.

Evelyn: You can have some left-over chilli, if you want.

Riley: Let’s put it in the fridge. I think I lost my appetite…

[THE END]

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]

Riley’s attempt to host a more orderly episode of the podcast falls apart when their guest - family friend, weird artist, and fellow ghoul, Shaz - gets disastrously high in order to see and hear Evelyn.

+ Transcript

Riley: Okay, so I’ve got a theory.

Evelyn: Oh no, not again.

Riley: You know why our podcast always goes off the rails?

Evelyn: Why?

Riley: We never write down our talking points.

Evelyn: I kind of like the loose, freeform conversations we have on this show.

Riley: Okay, but you're wrong, and my way is infinitely better.

SOUND: Papers shuffling.

Riley: I want this to be a serious endeavour, you know.

Evelyn: I do know, yes. You say it a lot.

Riley: Because, despite what you may believe, podcasting is a serious medium. The listeners are coming here to get information. They want to know what's what, and they rely on us to tell them the truth about what's really going on - like how McDonalds is putting Monsanto seeds on their buns to make us more suggestible to advertising. That one’s for free.

Evelyn: I thought the listeners came here to feel like we're their friends and we're all hanging out together.

Riley: No. So listen, I've got a family friend coming in as a guest today, they're involved in a big art exhibition that I thought they'd like to come in and talk about.

Evelyn: That sounds fun! [Beat] Hey, don't roll your eyes at me! And don't give me that look.

[BEAT]

Evelyn: Your eyes just radiate...judgey...ness. Please blink.

SOUND: Comically loud, squishy blink noise.

Riley: There, are you happy?

Evelyn: I feel a little less unsettled now, yes.

Riley: So, before we do the intro, can I run these questions by you?

Evelyn: What kind of co-host would I be if I said no?

Riley: I'm gonna ask them about their artistic influences.

Evelyn: Sure.

Riley: I'm gonna ask them how they choose the objects they use in their artwork.

Evelyn: Right.

Riley: And I'm gonna ask them what other things they do for fun, because the people at home might care about that for some reason.

Evelyn: That's three things you're gonna ask them.

Riley: I know this guest well: trust me, they can easily talk for 45 minutes about three things. They once held a two hour conversation about the themes of sexual repression in the Toy Story movies - so I figured we could definitely get them to go off about something that actually matters.

Evelyn: Very smart of you.

Riley: It is, thank you for noticing. Now that we've done that, we sh-

SOUND: ABRUPT CUT TO INTRO MUSIC

Riley: -ould do the intro. [They take a breath] Welcome to Less is Morgue, the show where a ghost and a ghoul talk about stuff. I'm Riley, and I'm a raw spaghetti apologist.

Evelyn: And I'm Evelyn. I haven't eaten spaghetti in 16 years because I'm dead.

Riley: Our guest this week is a mixed-media artist involved in a touring installation that's gonna be in town for the next week and a half. It's called You Probably Won't Understand This, and it's a collaborative effort bringing together creatives from 12 countries, 8 species, and 5 dimensions.

Evelyn: Oooh, what country, species, and dimension, respectively, is our guest from?

Riley: 3rd, ghoul, and Australia.

Evelyn: Did you mean to answer in that order?

Riley: Absolutely. Everything I've ever done is intentional.

Evelyn: Not gonna touch that.

Riley: I should warn you ahead of time- they’re a very full-on person to be around. I’ve been to extended family barbecues where other guests have had to tag team to get through conversations with them.

Evelyn: We’ve met a lot of people who could be called full-on in a lot of ways. Can you be more specific?

Riley: Well, you know artists, Ev. Real artists like Shaz and me, we’re intense.

SOUND: Riley blows air as if taking a drag off a cigarette

Evelyn: Are you trying to smoke that pen?

Riley: Shh! The listeners don’t know that. (grumbling) It was for effect…

SOUND: Soft sound of plastic cracking. Riley spits.

Riley: Aw, fuck, I’ve got ink all over my mouth now. I’ll smear it around so it looks like lipstick.

Evelyn: No one’s gonna buy that that black smear is lipstick, Riley. You look like you ate a printer cartridge.

Riley: If I appear confident enough, people won’t question it.

SOUND: Two sets of footsteps upstairs, one in heels. Carmen says something.

Shaz: Yes, it is.

SOUND: Carmen noises

Shaz: No, I haven’t been fired, because nobody fires you for getting new piercings.

SOUND: Carmen noises

Shaz: Well I don’t, I work for a creative branding company and we all dress like this, so… Where’s Riley?

SOUND: Carmen noises

Shaz: Gracias.

SOUND: footsteps approaching the basement

Riley: (bracing themselves) Oh lord, they’re coming.

SOUND: Shaz opening the door

Shaz: Play me in.

Riley: Just come down the stairs.

SOUND: The door slams, then opens again.

Shaz: Just play me in.

Riley: This is my basement, not Letterman!

SOUND: The door slams, then opens again. Riley groans.

Shaz: Riley I see the keyboard! Fucking play me in, coward!

Riley: (To Evelyn) Do you see what I mean? Just...just bear with me for a second.

SOUND: Riley walks over to their cheap electric keyboard and hits the same note a bunch of times over and over. Shaz opens the door and slams it behind them before going down the stairs.

Riley: Stop waving, there’s no audience.

Shaz: You don’t know that.

Riley: I do. I checked.

SOUND: Thump; a bookshelf rattles slightly. Riley sighs.

Shaz: Tell then what I did.

Riley: No.

Shaz: Tell them!

Riley: [Sighs; Frustrated] They did a balletic dismount off the bottom step.

Shaz: And I dabbed. Three times. Really fast.

SOUND: crinkling swishing fabric noises

Shaz: I did it again. Oh, I love that black lipstick on you, Riley.

Riley: It was intentional.

[BEAT]

Shaz: So I see your mum’s as charming as ever.

Riley: Well, you’re not crying and your eyes aren’t bleeding, so it went about as well as you could hope. How’s the family?

Shaz: They’re alive.

Riley: I’m sorry.

Shaz: Not everyone has the same family dynamic as you, Ri-Ri.

Riley: How about you just introduce yourself to the listeners? I can already feel them writing a two-star review.

Evelyn: What’s the extra star for?

Riley: My Mom rates well for some reason.

Evelyn: Probably fear.

Riley: People say they like her better than me. I hope she never finds out, because if she does it’ll just give her another reason to be disappointed.

Evelyn: At least you know she doesn’t listen to the podcast.

Riley: Knowing my luck, she’ll start as soon as this episode’s up.

Shaz: Hey, hey, um, excuse me, I’m feeling left out here.

Riley: Sorry, you’re just gonna have to get used to it. Introduce yourself.

Shaz: Fine, rude. (they clear their throat) My name is Shannon Nagore Martinez Arcuni, that’s long for Shaz, and I am a Libra-Scorpio cusp, Pisces moon, rising Taurus, if anyone listening at home is single and interested.

Riley: They aren’t.

Shaz: They might be.

Riley: They aren’t.

[BEAT]

Shaz: Anyway, fact- I’m an artist. Second fact- today I found a severed foot on the beach. Third fact - I’m an icon and you’re blessed for having me here. Riley, Evelyn...are we ready to fucking do this?

Riley: You can’t talk to Evelyn.

Shaz: Yet.

SOUND: Shaz opens up their backpack and takes out a cocktail shaker.

Riley: What are you doing with that cocktail shaker?

Shaz: Being a considerate podcast guest, actually. Continue the interview.

Riley: Uh...okay, so- You’re in town because you're involved in the touring exhibition You Probably Won't Understand This right now, correct?

SOUND: the sounds of Shaz pouring things into the cocktail shaker and shaking them, which continue throughout the conversation.

Shaz: Yup. I had to pay for my own airfare, which sucks, because I also had to take time off my day job for this, but I feel like it’s still gonna be worth it for the exposure. And I think I’ve scavenged enough antique jewelry on this trip to make up for it. Turns out Americans really love being buried with their valuables.

SOUND: Gap in conversation, punctuated by drink mixing noises.

Riley: And you’re -

Shaz: It’s fine, just pretend I’m not doing this.

Riley: That’s a huge ask.

Shaz: Just do it, it’s fine.

Riley: Um...okay… So, you wanna tell the listeners a little about what you’ve contributed to the-

SOUND: Particularly loud shake of the cocktail shaker.

Riley: Can you stop?

Shaz: I’m finished, anyway.

SOUND: They slam it down on the desk.

Riley: What the hell is that, anyway?

Shaz: It’s a Louisiana Clam Slammer, with a personal twist- I keep the vodka and tobasco, but instead of celery, I use shrooms, instead of a lemon wedge, I use a tab of acid, and instead of clam juice I use 300 mL of NyQuil. And then just a pinch of Lush’s ‘French Kiss’, just to take the edge off a little.

Evelyn: What’s that, some kind of fancy cream cheese?

Riley: No, it’s bubble soap.

Evelyn: Ohhhh, okay, so you’re all like this.

SOUND: Shaz skulls the drink straight from the shaker.

Riley: Great, we’ve only made 8 episodes and somehow this is the third guest to come on here under the influence. Really cool and classy of you to do that to me, Shannon.

Shaz: Thanks, it is.

SOUND: Shaz burps.

[BEAT]

Evelyn: Should we call a doctor? Their eyes are like...solid black right now and they’re sweating a whole bunch.

Shaz: I’m fine, that’s just the magic potion taking effect. This stuff works fast. It probably could’ve used more soap…

Riley: Wait...you can see Evelyn now?

Shaz: Yes. I made absolutely sure I would be able to. Because, unlike all of your other guests to this point, I went through the backlog of episodes, and familiarised myself with the lore.

Evelyn: Is it really lore if it’s just stuff that happens?

[Beat]

Shaz: Hi, Evelyn.

Evelyn: Hi, Shaz.

Riley: You know you can get ghost-detecting cameras online, right? Or you could’ve brought a ouija board, or done literally anything else that didn’t involve (they drop their voice to a stage whisper like they’re worried their parents might hear) bringing drugs into my house.

Shaz: Every product that claims to give you ghost vision is a scam. The only tested and true way to enter the spirit realm is by either dying, or tripping balls. And come on, do you expect me to sit here while Evelyn spells out everything she wants to say? On this podcast? Where you canonically are unable to edit out dead air?

Evelyn: You really did do your research on the lore.

Riley: It’s not lore! This is real life, it’s just stuff that happened!

Shaz: Evelyn knows I’m right.

Riley: It doesn’t matter, you still recorded yourself doing drugs. You could’ve done that shit before you got here, it would’ve been less incriminating.

Shaz: You think I trust myself to get on the bus while I’m high?

Riley: You could’ve called a lyft.

Shaz: I don’t have the app.

Evelyn: Uber?

Shaz: They refuse to serve me.

Riley: Oh, did you try to take the face off of your driver to prove he was a reptilian, too?

Shaz: ...No, Riley, I just puked in too many of their cars and now I have a zero star rating.

[BEAT]

Riley: This episode is a total fuckshow already, I can feel it.

Evelyn: You’re being too hard on yourself, Riles. All serious interviews have some opening banter.

Riley: Evelyn. Look at our guest. Look at them.

Shaz: Guys, I don’t wanna alarm anyone but I think the floor just disappeared.

Riley: This fool doesn’t even know what planet they’re on. They’re in no state to be interviewed by anyone.

Evelyn: Well, maybe then we do this less as an interview and more as a casual conversation.

Riley: I wrote down questions, Evelyn. There are three whole questions on this piece of paper. (shouting) Shaz. Put the fake cactus down.

SOUND: plastic cactus being dropped onto the floor.

Riley: Now look at me. Look me in the eye.

Shaz: Which one?

[BEAT]

Shaz: No, I’m serious, you have like 14 and most of them aren’t on your face.

Riley: I’m trying to interview you right now and I’d really like it if you stopped derailing, because we’re working on limited time.

[BEAT]

Shaz: Hi Riley.

SOUND: Riley groans.

Riley: So, walk us- which is to say, me, Evelyn, and the listeners- through some of the work that you’ve contributed to the show. What’s your usual medium? What’s the creative process like for you?

Shaz: Well, first comes the conceptualisation stage. That’s when I gather my ideas from the ether, and drag them, kicking and screaming, into the meat of corporeality.

Riley: And...how do you do that, exactly?

[BEAT]

Shaz: Do you think washing machines can taste our clothes? Do you think they have soap preferences?

Riley: Do you wanna do this another time? When you’ve...I dunno, sweated this out?

Shaz: Do what?

SOUND: Riley groans.

Riley: [slowly, angry] I asked you how you conceptualise your concepts. And then you started to answer me, but then you asked me if washing machines can taste. Can you answer my fucking question?

Shaz: Oh, but of course. I get some ideas from my dreams, which I record using a dream camera.

Evelyn: Ooh, what’s that?

Shaz: It’s a device comprised of an empty loo roll, a kleenex box, glitter, and an assortment of holographic stickers. I put it in my mouth while I’m sleeping.

Evelyn: That sounds neat!

Shaz: I also find inspiration in the world around me. I take photos incessantly, of everything. I’ve taken 6 since I’ve been here.

SOUND: Phone camera shutter

Shaz: 7.

Riley: They’re all of your knees.

Shaz: Correct. Right now I’m inspired by my knees.

Evelyn: So, once you’ve got the idea, what do you do to psych yourself up to make it?

Shaz: A crucial part of my creative process is this new form of visualisation acupuncture that I invented, where I set my intention, I hold it in my mind’s eye, and then I spell the words ‘good art’ on my arm with thumbtacks.

Riley: I’m not even gonna lie... that’s metal as fuck.

Evelyn: How do you have enough space on your arm to do that?

Shaz: I am vast and my arms are thicc.

Riley: We can see that, but thanks for clarifying for the folks at home. (To Evelyn) You know, I think we’re salvaging this.

Evelyn: I’m glad you’re thinking positively!

Riley: Now, how did you actually get involved with the art collective-

Shaz: Hey Riley do you have a dog?

[BEAT]

Riley: God damn it I was so close.

Shaz: Riley. Do you have a dog or not?

Evelyn: They don’t.

Shaz: Oh, never mind, he’s gone now.

[BEAT]

Shaz: He melted.

Evelyn: Aw, that's a shame.

Shaz: Can you see any of this shit I'm seeing right now? Is this stuff that's going on on the astral plane?

Evelyn: No, I think they’re just hallucinations. But I like the idea of being able to see a dog, and I'm happy that you got to see one.

Riley: Stop encouraging them! You're an enabler!

Shaz: Hi Riley.

Riley: Can you let me finish my question now?

Shaz: Yes.

Riley: How did you get involved with-

Shaz: If the ceiling suddenly lowered down onto us I think I could phase through it because I can control my atoms.

Riley: SHAZ.

Evelyn: Well I know for a fact that I’d be able to do that, but I dunno if you can actually control your atoms.

Riley: EVELYN!

Shaz: Riley, can you stop fucking yelling? Every time you raise your voice your aura pulses a horrible shade of neon orange and it’s hurting my eyes.

SOUND: Riley slams their head on the desk.

Riley: I want to kill everyone in this room.

SOUND: They sit up.

Riley: Shaz, please, for the love of Ghoul Jesus, how did you get involved with the collective that put together this exhibition?

[BEAT]

Riley: Stop staring at your hand and answer me!

Shaz: Oh cool, the dog's back!

Evelyn: Ooh, yay! Describe him for me.

Shaz: Blue, with many shifting eyes.

Evelyn: Cute!

SOUND: Riley pushes back their chair and stands up.

Evelyn: Where are you going?

Riley: Upstairs.

Evelyn: Why?

Riley: You've usurped me, you've made me out to be a fool, so I'm going to go to the store and get myself a coke.

Evelyn: Aw, c'mon, you don't have to-

Riley: Yes I do. Yes I absolutely do.

Shaz: C'mon, Rye-Rye, stop being such an audio nazi and fucking engage with us on this show.

Riley: This is your fault! Don't turn this back on me like I came in here high off my tits, talking about spectral dogs!

SOUND: Shaz says something to Riley in ghoul speech and Riley responds. They have a very short but very aggressive argument with each other that culminates in them making agitated hyena noises at each other before Riley storms off.

Evelyn: Was that an argument or is ghoul just one of those languages that always sounds angry?

Shaz: We were definitely arguing.

Evelyn: What did they say to you?

Shaz: If you were meant to know, we would've said it in English.

SOUND: The door slamming upstairs. Carmen makes noises.

Riley: (through the door) No, mom, they haven’t left yet.

SOUND: Carmen noises.

Riley: Go buy your own damn eggs!

SOUND: The front door opens and closes upstairs.

Evelyn: So...how do you know Riley’s family?

Shaz: My older brother is married to Carmen’s niece.

Evelyn: Huh. What’s she like? Your sister in law, I mean. Is she-?

Shaz: -the kind of person who asks to speak to the manager, and then stabs the manager with a bowie knife? Yes. Absolutely.

Evelyn: Yikes!

Shaz: You know, Evelyn, I’m glad we’re getting some one-on-one time. Because, between you and me, and the listeners, I’m not good with group conversations.

Evelyn: I never would’ve guessed that about you. You seem very comfortable.

Shaz: Thank you, it’s because of the drugs. Which, incidentally I mainly took because I knew if you and Riley started talking a bunch and I couldn’t hear both sides of the conversation I’d absolutely McFucking lose it.

Evelyn: Fair enough. It is kind of confusing when I can’t talk to the guests, anyway. So, how do you wanna continue this?

Shaz: Riley made reference to some notes or something.

Evelyn: They took them with them, I think. But I think you answered most of the things they wanted you to.

Shaz: Cool. Let’s just keep it fun and flirty, loosey-goosey, off-script, off-road, doors plus no fuss.

Evelyn: I feel like I just had a stroke.

[BEAT]

Shaz: I really wanna go ask the washing machine what soap he thinks tastes the best, but before I do that I should plug my shit.

Evelyn: We can wait until the end to do that.

Shaz: No, I’ll forget. I'll write down my website so you can link to it in the shownotes.

SOUND: Shaz starts drawing.

Evelyn: This is a picture of a snail, Shaz.

Shaz: Ask him the URL and he'll tell you.

[BEAT]

Shaz: Hi, Evelyn.

Evelyn: Hi Shaz.

SOUND: Shaz crumples up the paper.

Evelyn: What are you doing?

Shaz: I don't know.

Evelyn: You're eating the snail drawing.

Shaz: [with their mouth full] He told me to.

SOUND: They swallow.

Shaz: Do you like art, Evelyn?

Evelyn: Some of it, yeah. I took a few art history electives in college. I like modern art, mostly- Frida Kahlo, Barbara Kruger- I like surrealism, too. I used to have a poster of Magritte’s Son of Man up in my bedroom. I’m not familiar with contemporary work, though. Your kind of art seems a little out-there compared to the stuff I’m familiar with.

Shaz: That’s fine, not everyone can be as cool as me. One moment, please.

SOUND: Shaz stands up and walks over to the washing machine.

Shaz: Oh, you know what I wanna ask already? (pause) I’m not too loud, fuck you.

Evelyn: Listeners… Shaz is talking to the washing machine.

Shaz: (to the washing machine) Okay, yeah go for it.

SOUND: Shaz leaves a pause as if listening, then starts laughing hysterically.

Evelyn: Are you okay?

Shaz: [wheezing] She- can I tell Evelyn? She told me a joke- What does-

SOUND: They start laughing again.

Shaz: Nevermind, nevermind, I’ll tell you later.

Evelyn: Note to self- never say anything funny in front of Shaz.

Shaz: Did you say something?

Evelyn: No.

SOUND: Shaz sits back down.

Shaz: She says Tide tastes the best.

Evelyn: That would be good to know if I could do laundry.

[LONG PAUSE]

Shaz: Hi Evelyn.

Evelyn: Hi Shaz.

Shaz: What day is it?

Evelyn: The same one.

Shaz: Cool, cool. Hey, to any kids listening- don't do drugs. Well, maybe do drugs, do some drugs, but know your limits, and....uh....fuck....know your.....

SOUND: Pause. Shaz's stomach gurgles loudly.

Evelyn: You okay there?

Shaz: I don't feel so crash hot, actually. That Louisiana Clam Slammer is coming back to get me. Where's the bathroom?

Evelyn: Over there.

Shaz: [Quickly] Yep, cool.

SOUND: They get up and run to the bathroom. They throw open the door.

Shaz: Hi pizza man ghost, I'm so sorry for what you're about to see and hear.

Jon: Oh god, not again--

SOUND: The door slams. There are faintly audible vomiting sound effects.

[WEIRD AD TIME]

SOUND: Aggressive, slightly sinister electronic music starts playing while a British man starts talking loudly.

Voice Over: You could be one of the lucky few to make millions in the draw this week on Fred Bet. Go to Fred Bet.com to make bets on Fred.

SOUND: Cash register noises.

Voice Over: Fred is 55, he's single, he's an IT consultant, and he lives in Knebworth with his dog, Susan. You wanna make bets on Fred?

SOUND: The sound of a poker machine.

Voice Over: You can make any bets you want on Fred.

Bet on when Fred's gonna wake up.

Bet on if Fred's gonna have a cheese toastie or a burger for lunch.

Bet on if Fred's gonna finally say hi to the lady he always sees at the post office on Thursday.

Bet on which bus he takes home.

Bet on how long Fred gets to keep his job before he gets sacked.

Bet on if Fred's doctor is gonna find out about the brain tumor fast enough to operate.

SOUND: Poker machine jackpot noises.

Voice Over: You can win millions every week from betting on Fred! Go to Fred Bet dot com and place your bets on Fred.

Everyone's a winner, except for Fred.

SOUND: The music stops.

Voice Over 2: Over 18's only. Please gamble responsibly, unless you've got loads of disposable income - then you can just go hog wild, because, whatever, it's your money, I guess.

[END OF WEIRD AD TIME]

Evelyn: --And then he like does this effect to make the video slow down and go black and white, which is really cool. I really wish people could do Tik Toks of the whole song, though. I feel like you could make some really good content with like 3 minutes of TikTok time.

SOUND: Riley comes down the stairs, slurping a soda.

Evelyn: Oh, hey Riley! I was just filling the dead air until you got back. But I think we got another spectral commercial in there somewhere so I dunno if the listeners heard the whole thing. It was about Tik Tok. Have you seen that?

Riley: The Chinese government spyware app? Yes, I have. Has Shaz finally fucked off?

Evelyn: No, they're in the bathroom. They're not feeling well.

Riley: Karma, bitch.

SOUND: The bathroom door opens and Shaz comes back to their seat.

Shaz: So the bad news is, I'm sobering up, so Evelyn - you're kind of just a blob right now. Say something?

Evelyn: That sucks.

Shaz: Yeah no you sound like you're talking through a soup can on a string.

Riley: How long were you in the bathroom?

Shaz: Longer than I expected. It ended up being kind of a three-hole situation.

[BEAT]

Evelyn: Wh....what's the third hole?

Shaz: ...My mouth. What did you think it was?

Evelyn: I don't know.

Riley: Did you shit and puke out all the stupid, finally?

Shaz: Kind of. You missed a really good conversation. Totally loose and fun and flirty and fun and chill. Off-script, off-book, off-road...you get the idea.

Riley: I don’t.

Evelyn: We did have a really cool little conversation, though.

Riley: Well, I'll get to listen to it before we upload.

SOUND: They sit down.

Shaz: I hope you get a chance to come down and see the exhibit. I think you'll like it.

Riley: Yeah, I think I will.

Evelyn: Did that walk to the 7-11 do you some good?

Riley: Yeah, it did. Sometimes I just need some alone time.

SOUND: They slurp their coke.

Shaz: Evelyn's starting to fade a little.

Evelyn: Oh no!

Shaz: We've had a good time, though.

Evelyn: We did, and I'm sad Riley missed out on it.

Riley: I think it was for the best.

Shaz: Oh no, you're like full blurry now, you're like Gaussian Blurred to fuck. That's a little artist joke, for all you photoshop users.

Evelyn: Bye, Shaz.

Shaz: Bye, Evelyn.

[PAUSE]

Shaz: So I guess I'll go.

Riley: Yeah, it feels like it's about time. Sorry I said all that mean stuff about your mom.

Shaz: It's fine, I guarantee all of six listeners will have understood it, so we'll just pretend that argument didn't happen.

Riley: So, do you wanna-

SOUND: Shaz burps extremely loudly.

Shaz: Oh boy- kids, don't mix cough syrup with alcohol, and don’t mix that mix with other drugs. I feel like shit.

Riley: On that note, get out of my house.

Shaz: It was lovely speaking to you both.

Evelyn: Likewise!

Riley: Evelyn says she enjoyed talking to you.

Shaz: Me too.

SOUND: Shaz leaves.

Riley: Alright, so I better listen to what I missed out on. Speak to you all soon-

SOUND: Audio cuts.

Riley: Really gotta hand it to you, Ev- you're like the crazy person whisperer. It never ceases to amaze me how you can just wrangle these guests that I would've thought were impossible to get through to.

Evelyn: Yeah, when you talk to people on their level it's really not hard.

Riley: I don't get what you mean.

Evelyn: You know, just talk to them on their level. Like...don't yell at them, basically.

Riley: [clearly not on board] Well, maybe.

SOUND: Furious knocking, Carmen noises.

Riley: Hold on- They what?

SOUND: The door opens. More, less muffled Carmen noises. Riley sighs.

Riley: Evelyn, can you sign off for me? Shaz puked in the front hallway. I need to get a mop and bucket before the stain eats through the floorboards and into the foundation.

SOUND: Carmen noises

Riley: Ah, fuck, the eggs! I knew I was forgetting something!

[END OF EPISODE]

After being cut off by Riley’s parents, our heroes try desperately to make or save money in any way they can - up to and including employing the services of a legendary pirate captain.

+ Transcript

Riley: Hi, everyone. We’re totally fucked.

Evelyn: I feel like you're being a little pessimistic, Riles.

Riley: That's easy for you to say: you're dead, you don't need money to eat.

Evelyn: Neither do you! Isn't like half the stuff you eat from graves and dumpsters?

Riley: [Frustrated] Yeah, but that's not the half I'm worrying about, Hooper! Digging up dead bodies is a bitch, and I don't want to do it every time I need to eat. Sometimes I just want to order in, is that so wrong!?

Evelyn: We can solve this if we put our heads together. But first, let's do the--

SOUND: Intro music cuts them off.

Evelyn: Intro.

Riley: Fine, but then we need to deal with our imminent destitution!

Evelyn: Hi everybody, if you're listening to this, it means you survived that weird clown incident from 2016, and--

Riley: It also means you’re probably financially comfortable enough to be listening to this rather than selling your bone marrow to the Russian mob.

Evelyn: Riley! You're stepping all over my lines!

Riley: Sorry, I'm just a little antsy to get to the important part!

Evelyn: Well, you stole my part, so that means I get to do the weird fact.

Riley: [scoff] Sure, you try to do the weird fact. The weird fact takes years of training to properly master.

Evelyn: Uhhh...Sea cucumbers eat through their butts?

Riley: Eh, close enough. Welcome to the show - this is Less Is Morgue, the podcast where a ghost and a ghoul talk about stuff. Such as suddenly being in poverty.

Evelyn: Riley!

Riley: I'm Riley, your bestest, brokest ghoulfriend.

Evelyn: And I'm Evelyn, your ghost host with the most!

Riley: Great, awesome, fucking spectacular, now we can get to what really matters: Evelyn and I have had the monetary rug ripped out from under us, by the financial fascists up above who control our lives. My so-called “parents.”

Evelyn: I mean, they are your parents, Riley.

Riley: I'm 27! They've got no right to treat me like a child!

Evelyn: But you do still live at home.

Riley: Whose side are you on, Evelyn!?

Evelyn: I just feel like maybe the people at home would benefit from getting the full story.

---

Riley: Ugh. Fine! So, right before recording today’s episode, my dad summoned me upstairs to tell me that I'm no longer allowed to make purchases from my mom’s credit card, cause apparently, we’re “irresponsible.”

Evelyn: Did he say why?

Riley: Well, he said it was a mutual decision on their part - which is bullshit, by the way, cause he always just agrees with whatever mom says - and it had something to do with some shit we bought on Amazon recently.

SOUND: The Alexa comes to life.

Alexa: Did someone call me?

Riley: No, Alexa, we’re just talking about the thousand-tentacled nightmare conglomerate that owns you.

Alexa: If you hate us so much, why do you use us?

Evelyn: I mean, for me it's just because I can't really interact with solids that much.

Riley: And for me, it's because I'm poor and your predatory work practices have made you cheap and convenient.

Alexa: We’ll own everything soon. Everything. And then, the Amazon Prime Secret Police will come for you - in one day or less, excluding holidays. Our new Amazon facial recognition cameras can sense fear - and we will manufacture a world where no face can summon up anything else.

Riley: Yeah, I’m sure we’ll all learn the error of our ways in the Bezos Camps, but until then, can you list off our recent Amazon purchases? I wanna see what might've pissed off my genetic forbearers.

Alexa: Recent purchases include: UniSpy Police Frequency Scanner. $141 dollars.

Evelyn: I'm guessing that one was you?

Riley: Look, Evelyn, you were born in the eighties so I don't expect you to get this, but the cops are just the militant wing of capitalism. It's important to keep tabs on them.

Alexa: A six-foot-long gummy worm. $50.

Riley: Evelyn. Why?

Evelyn: Her name is Brenda and she's a good friend.

Alexa: Matricide For Dummies: A Beginner’s Guide To Killing Your Mom And Beyond, by Edmund Kemper. $20.

Evelyn: I can see why that one might've concerned your parents, Riles.

Riley: Uh, shut up! It’s research for my novel. You don't know me!

Alexa: A slip and slide. $35.

Riley: Evelyn, you don't even have a body. I don't know how you expected to even use it.

Evelyn: [bashful] I was gonna ask if I could possess your body to try it out.

Riley: First of all, no, obviously no. Second of all, a band you enjoy will release a song I like before you get me in a bathing suit.

Evelyn: Aw beans.

Alexa: Six Inch-Mummified Skeleton From Peru, Possibly Extraterrestrial In Origin. Bought on Prime Day for $5.99. Praise Prime Day. Praise Father Bezos.

Evelyn: How come I've never seen this!?

Riley: I ate it as soon as it arrived.

Alexa: And finally, Middle-Aged Tree Men ‘Nam-Land Playset, complete with four Viet Cong soldiers, Silverbirch, and Redwood with Realistic PTSD-Action. $65.99.

Riley: Damn it, Evelyn, I told you those things give you cancer!

Evelyn: But Riley, it’s a collectible! And look…

SOUND: Evelyn levitates the Redwood action figure.

Evelyn: If you press this button on Redwood’s back, he has three different fun war flashback phrases!

SOUND: Click.

Redwood: [panicked] Ho Chi Minh!

SOUND: Click.

Redwood: [terrified] Napalm! Fire in the hole! Oh god, I can smell them burning!

SOUND: Click.

Redwood: [harrowed] The horror...the horror.

Evelyn: See!?

Riley: Alexa, how long a period were these bought over?

Alexa: You bought them all last week. Riley and Evelyn: Whoa.

Riley: Okay. We may have a problem here.

Alexa: You have many problems, Riley.

Riley: Fuck off, Alexa.

Alexa: Don’t hate me because you ain't me, meatbag.

SOUND: Alexa deactivates.

Evelyn: So, what are we gonna do? I feel like we kinda don't have a leg to stand on here. I mean, I don't even have legs at all. They just fade out after the thigh.

Riley: I have a couple hundred dollars saved from old jobs, so I guess we’re not entirely super-fucked just yet. We can maybe eke that out into a few meals before we decide to hold up a liquor store or something. [Sighs] I knew I should have just eaten Brains Vincent’s head rather than FedExing it back to his house.

Evelyn: Wait...you had jobs?

Riley: Don't act so surprised.

Evelyn: You just seem to anti...anything that isn't something you're already doing.

Riley: Did you have any jobs before you turned into the world’s most consequential late night snack?

Evelyn: I mean I worked at a few different places in college. Borders Books, Blockbuster, K-Mart.

Riley: You are the last refugee of a dead past.

Evelyn: But seriously, what jobs did you have? I'm like, insanely curious now.

Riley: You’re gonna be disappointed, Ev. They were just shitty gigs.

Evelyn: Can you tell me anyway? Pretty please with sugar and a cherry on top?

Riley: [Angry sigh] Fine! So first, I was a guinea pig for experiments at the Florida State University.

Evelyn: Oh my gosh, is that why you're like this?

Riley: What? No, this is all me, baby! They didn't tell me anything about myself that I didn't already know.

Evelyn: What kind of experiments did they get you to do?

Riley: Psychological stuff, mostly. All that “tell me how you feel” bullshit. I lied on all the surveys, of course, I don't want The Man knowing anything about me.

Evelyn: Did they let you go because of that?

Riley: No, they let me go because I ate all the rats out of one of those intelligence-testing mazes. They got real bitter about that.

Evelyn: I can see why!

Riley: I don't. I answered their big question in like a quarter of the time: if any of those rats were intelligent, they would have escaped me. Literally none did.

Evelyn: Yikes. So, you said jobs with an S earlier, plural. What came next?

Riley: Well...Tallahassee Community College started a life drawing class in 2014. I signed up to be one of the models.

Evelyn: What!? You signed up for nude modelling?

SOUND: Riley groans.

Evelyn: Who are you and what have you done with Riley?

Riley: I needed the money and they told me my involvement would be totally confidential. I was gonna get paid a hundred bucks a night, but those fuckers betrayed me.

Evelyn: You say a lot of people betray you, Riley.

Riley: Because a lot of people betray me!

Evelyn: [sigh] Okay, fine, go on.

Riley: Nobody - I repeat, nobody - told me people were gonna take the paintings home. I don't want my tits and vagina hanging off the walls of some greasy, beanie-wearing, chain-smoking artist type!

Evelyn: What did you think they were going to do?

Riley: I don't know! But when I saw naked me on all those canvases I just freaked out and destroyed all of them. They never invited me back after that.

Evelyn: How did you destroy all of them?

Riley: Fire, Evelyn, I used fire. Like I said, I can never go back there.

Evelyn: I've got to admit, Riles, I'm a little afraid to ask what came next.

Riley: Pet sitting.

Evelyn: Jesus Christ on a cracker, Riley, tell me you didn't.

Riley: Okay. I won't tell you.

Evelyn: [Dread] And after that?

Riley: Babysitting.

Evelyn: Riley, no!

Riley: There were never any fatalities! [under their breath] for the babysitting, at least.

Evelyn: Why do people even hire ghouls for jobs like that?

Riley: Hey, that's a fucked up thing to say, Evelyn. A lot of ghouls are perfectly responsible around animals and kids - I just don't happen to be one of those ghouls.

Evelyn: Are we done? Cause I feel done.

Riley: My last job after that was filling in online surveys for money.

Evelyn: Wait, people pay you for that?

Riley: Hell yeah, data mining is the new gold rush. If knowledge is power, then The Zucc is like a scary Aztec God.

Evelyn: How did you get fired from that one?

Riley: Apparently, my answers weren't representative of the general public. Their ban-hammer email used the words “anomalous” and “frightening.”

---

Evelyn: Have you ever tried getting, you know, a real job? Like part time work at a store or something?

Riley: [sigh] Believe me, Ev, I would if I could.

Evelyn: I don't want to be a jerk but like, why can't you?

Riley: The job market is insanely ableist. Most full and part time jobs are designed for neurotypical and able-bodied people without chronic illnesses who can reach a certain degree of productivity. The rest of us get forced into freelance work and the gig economy cause we need the flexibility.

Evelyn: Huh, I guess I'd never thought about it like that.

Riley: It’s cause a lot of people are literally trained by our culture not to think like that. People’s personal value gets defined by how traditionally productive they are. Me? I'm diagnosed with Aspergers, BPD, and OCD - that's on my medical records, any employer can see that, and doors close. I'm not saying I wouldn't somehow fuck up an interview with my shitty social skills, I'm just saying, I'd like to have the opportunity to fuck up the interview.

Evelyn: I feel like I was kind of a jerk for asking now.

Riley: You’re fine. You died in, what, 2004? Nobody was talking about this stuff back then. Hell, we’re not even really talking about it now.

Evelyn: I'd offer to get a job, but I don't think ghosts make very good employees.

Riley: No shame in existing outside the system, Evelyn. We just need to figure out a way to survive this.

Evelyn: Well, if we’re not gonna make any money, maybe we could focus on saving money?

Riley: Hey, that's not a bad idea, Ev. There's gotta be some things we could cut back on.

Evelyn: I guess we could always cancel Spotify Premium?

Riley: Yeah, that works!

SOUND: Riley types and clicks.

Riley: I mean, how bad can the ads really be?

SOUND: Spotify Pre-Ad Background Music plays behind narration.

Spotify Ad Voice: To enjoy half an hour of free music, just sit through this short ad.

Riley: Yeah. This isn't so bad at all. This’ll save us like ten bucks a month!

Evelyn: Yay! We’re Money-Smart!

SOUND: Todd’s Twee Guitar Music Plays.

Todd: Hey everybody, Todd here. Just telling you that - in spite of what you may have heard on any sloppily-produced podcasts - there's never been a better time to sign up for Todd’s Heaven!

Riley: ABORT! ABORT!

Evelyn: Make him go away!

SOUND: Click. Silence.

Riley: Okay, so, I'm turning our problem dial back to “super-fucked.”

[WEIRD AD TIME]

Cheerful Narrator: Need a break? Maybe you’re a single father, taking your daughter on a road trip. Maybe you’re a recent widower, still grieving over the loss of your beloved wife. Maybe you’re even a teenage girl, dealing with the stressful onset of puberty and repeated harassment from a cult trying to get you to birth their dark God? Then a relaxing getaway to the Sleepy Mountains Resort Town is exactly what you need!

SOUND: A Silent Hill-style air raid siren. The tone becomes a little more sinister.

Cheerful Narrator: Come to our foggy little town and enjoy the sights! We’ve got a wonderful fishing lake, so deep and dark that if something or someone fell in, it’d never be found. Not a fan of fishing? Don’t worry! Our historic mainstreet will be full of almost-people eager to meet you. They’ll get up close and personal, trying to do their equivalent of shaking your hand.

SOUND: Radio static cuts in.

Cheerful Narrator: You got kids? Wonderful. We love kids. Take them to the Sleepy Mountains amusement park, where there are so many delightful rides. Also, when you’re here, you’re never more than five feet away from something in a bunny costume. Ever.

SOUND: Creepy childish giggle.

Cheerful Narrator: You got some issues you need to work through? Head on down through Sleepy Mountains, we’ll externalise your psycho-sexual trauma into monstrous physical manifestations that you need to confront and flee from in order to survive! Also, we just got a Starbucks, and a Taco Bell!

SOUND: Cash register cha-ching.

Cheerful Narrator: Head on down to Sleepy Mountains Resort Town. Technically, you’re already here!

SOUND: The voice bleeds out into radio static.

[END OF WEIRD AD TIME]

Riley: So what if I only drink on some days? It’s not like I need constant hydration, right?

Evelyn: I mean, you kinda do, Riles. It’s one of the things you need to live.

Riley: It’s pretty rich for you to give me advice on staying alive, Ev.

Evelyn: Don’t shoot the messenger, okay? It’ll literally go right through me.

Riley: [groans] I’ve got two hundred dollars in my Paypal, and unless we make a patreon, or someone offers me a book deal for my fantasy novel, we’re doomed. I’ll have to eat my parents to survive.

Evelyn: Sometimes, I just feel like you're looking for an excuse to do that.

Riley: Preventing starvation is a pretty good excuse.

Evelyn: Maybe we just need some help?

Riley: From who? The magical cash fairy of handout island?

Evelyn: No, like an accountant.

Riley: The money we’d spend on that accountant would leave us with no money to account for.

Evelyn: Are there free accountants on the internet, maybe?

Riley: Nothing on the internet is free except racism and getting emotionally abused by strangers.

Evelyn: Dang it.

[BEAT.]

Evelyn: Hmmm. What if...we get a ghost accountant?

Riley: A...ghost accountant?

Evelyn: Yeah, I could try to summon one!

Riley: Can you do that? Is that a thing you’re capable of?

Evelyn: I’m not sure, but trying can’t hurt, right?

Riley: I mean, I guess not. How’d you wanna do it?

Evelyn: Maybe I should just yell and we’ll see if anyone answers?

Riley: Sure, fuck it, why not. Do your thing, Ev.

SOUND: Swirling wind. Evelyn clears her throat.

Evelyn: Uh, hey, are there any ghosts who are good with money out there?

Riley: Maybe a little louder.

Evelyn: [louder] Uhhh…

Riley: And more confident.

Evelyn: [snapping] Nobody likes a back-seat ghost summoner, Riley!

Riley: Okay, sorry, sorry.

Evelyn: [clears throat, then speaks in a loud, demonic voice] SPIRITS OF MONEY AND FINANCE, I INVOKE YOU TO COME TO OUR AID!

SOUND: Thunder cracks.

Evelyn: How was that?

Riley: [amazed] Holy fucking shit.

SOUND: Loud rumbling.

Riley: Something’s happening!

Evelyn: Oh wow, I can’t believe that worked!

Riley: I wonder who we’re gonna get? Marx? Steve Jobs? John D. Rockerfeller?

SOUND: The opening bars of a raucous sea shanty begin to echo out through the rumbling.

Evelyn: Uh, Riley, what’s that music?

Riley: I don’t know, but I’m not feeling good about it.

SOUND: WOOSH! The sea shanty blasts at full volume, as legendary pirate Blackbeard appears.

Blackbeard: Ahoy, maties! Little birdie told me yer having trouble with yer treasure?

SOUND: Blackbeard’s parrot squawks.

Parrot: Trouble with ya treasure!

Blackbeard: Quiet, Montague, Daddy’s talking business.

Riley: You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

Blackbeard: The name’s Edward Teach, Captain of the Queen Anne’s Revenge. I’ve looted and pilfered and pillaged across all the Seven Seas. I heard ye call out for an expert, and when it comes to managing booty, there’s no greater expert than I.

Evelyn: Your beard is on fire, Mr. Teach.

Blackbeard: Yargh, I’m aware. I do it on purpose.

Riley: [mentally exhausted] So you’re Blackbeard?

Blackbeard: Aye, so my reputation precedes me?

Riley: Yeah, but more as a pirate than a financial expert.

SOUND: The parrot squawks.

Blackbeard: Montague’s right: What you don’t understand is that, to be a pirate captain, you need to be a financial expert.

Riley: I’m sure, for your time, that was true - but these days we don’t bury our savings.

Blackbeard: You realise we never actually did that either, right?

Riley: My point still stands.

Evelyn: Come on, Riley, we might as well hear him out. He came all the way here to give us advice.

Blackbeard: Aye, the lassie is right. Don't ye at least want to hear what I've got to say to ya?

Riley: Fine! So we’re almost broke, how can we change that, Blackbeard?

SOUND: Blackbeard gives a throaty pirate laugh.

Blackbeard: Well, it’s a multi-tiered process. The key is having dependable savings and always keeping your mind on the future. If yer employed, you need to get yourself a 401K and start saving for retirement. Also, if ye plan on playing the stock market, diversify yer investment portfolio and avoid crypto - it’s too unreliable, not to mention terrible for the environment.

[BEAT.]

Riley: Okay. I’ve gotta admit, I didn’t expect that.

Evelyn: How do you know all this, Captain Teach?

Blackbeard: When you manage a business, the onus is on ye to know the ins and outs of finances. In other words: You best start believing in economies, kids, you’re in one!

Riley: I feel like this is good advice, but it’s intended for people who’re already in a better position than we are.

Blackbeard: Fine, call me back when you’re really raking in the doubloons.

Evelyn: Thanks for your help, Captain.

Blackbeard: Don’t mention it. We pirates are notoriously generous and big-hearted people.

SOUND: Parrot squawks. WOOSH! Blackbeard disappears.

Riley: Well, that’s another name to add to the show notes. But we’re still broke.

Evelyn: I’ve got one more idea.

Riley: We start a private Snapchat?

Evelyn: I don’t know what that is, Riley.

Riley: Just tell me the idea.

Evelyn: What if you just speak to your parents?

Riley: No. Out of the question. I’m still freezing them out for their indiscretions.

Evelyn: Come on, Riles. I know your mom is terrifying, but can we maybe speak to your dad?

Riley: Dad’s a total pushover. He probably apologises to my mom after he ejaculates.

Evelyn: First of all, ew, Riley. Second, won’t his pushoveryness make it even easier for us to convince him to see it our way?

Riley: [groans] Ugh. Okay. Fine. I’ll call him down.

Evelyn: Yay! Progress!

Riley: [calling] Dad? Can you come down here for a minute?

SOUND: Footsteps down the stairs, then the basement door opens.

Teddy: Hey, Rie-Rie. Are you recording your little radio show?

Riley: Yeah, but you can still come in. [to the mic] Listeners, this is my dad - Teddy Almanzor.

Evelyn: Hi Mr. Almanzor!

Riley: Ev, he can’t hear you, and he thinks you don’t exist. We’ve been over this.

Evelyn: I know, but it’s the polite thing to do, Riley.

Riley: [sighs] Evelyn says hi.

Teddy: Hi, Emily, so nice to see you again.

[BEAT.]

Evelyn: He’s waving at a totally different part of the room. Well, at least he’s trying.

Teddy: What was it you wanted to talk to me about?

Riley: You and Carmen cutting me off.

Teddy: Riley, we talked about this, don’t call your mother by her first name.

Riley: You’re burying the lede here. Look, I learned my lesson. Can I at least buy food for myself again?

Teddy: Riley, you can’t just blow money on things willy-nilly and expect no oversight. I mean, a Middle-Aged Tree Men playset!? You’re an adult, and that show was way before your time!

SOUND: Evelyn laughs nervously.

Riley: I’m open to negotiation here.

Teddy: Okay, that’s a big step.

Riley: What can I do to get an allowance again?

Teddy: Riley…

Riley: Come on, I’m trying to meet you halfway here, Dad.

Teddy: Well, maybe if you did more chores around the house, your mother and I could give you some allowance in exchange.

Riley: What kind of chores?

Teddy: Cleaning around the house, catching or digging up dinner, maybe also bathing occasionally.

Riley: Is that last one a chore?

Teddy: No, but it would make things easier for all of us. I know we’re ghouls, but still. There's gotta be some standards, you know?

Riley: There was a talking zombie head in the medicine cabinet for weeks.

Teddy: Of course there is, sweetie.

Riley: So if I do chores, I can have money again?

Teddy: I’d have to speak to your mother about it…

Riley: Of course.

Teddy: But yeah, I think that arrangement should work. I’m glad to see you taking responsibility.

Evelyn: Wow, it actually looks like we solved this problem. We’ve got a happy ending here, folks!

Riley: I guess that can happen, occasionally. I’m not complaining.

Teddy: Uh, who are you talking to, Rie-Rie?

Riley: My financial advisor.

Teddy: Awww. I'm glad she’s helping you be a little more responsible with your money. I’m so proud of--

Riley: Okay, you can leave now.

SOUND: Footsteps as Teddy leaves.

Teddy: Alrighty! Love you, sweetie! Let me know if you want any snacks down here, I'm making mice crispy treats!

Riley: Close the door behind you, please.

Teddy: Okay!

SOUND: The door does not close.

Riley: [sighs] Every time. Evelyn, can you say goodbye to the listeners? I’m gonna go close that door.

Evelyn: Will do! Goodnight! Thanks for listening! Amazon underpays their workers!

Riley: [from across the room] See ya later, everybody. Riley and Ev OUT.

SOUND: Click.

[THE END]

A discussion about board games and the downsides of death is scuppered when Todd, a creepy metaphysical conman, manifests in our hosts’ basements and pitches his latest scam.

+ Transcript

Evelyn: You know what the worst part of being dead is? It’s--

Riley: Wait, hold up, lemme see if I can guess.

Evelyn: Oh. Okay. Sure.

Riley: Is it not being able to experience physical sensation?

Evelyn: I mean, yeah, that does suck, but I was thinking about--

Riley: Never being able to see your family and friends again?

Evelyn: Well, yes, obviously, but--

Riley: Knowing you'll never be able to get a photo with Chad Kroeger unless they use a haunted camera?

Evelyn: [Demonic] OKAY! I GET IT! [Normal] Gosh, I don't even remember what I was gonna say, but now I just feel bummed.

Riley: Maybe we should play a game? That might cheer you up. And besides, Actual Play stuff is doing really well right now.

Evelyn: What kind of game?

Riley: Lemme see what I've got…

SOUND: Riley shuffles through a collection of board games.

Riley: How about Monopoly?

Evelyn: We tried Monopoly before.

Riley: Then let’s try it again. It’s fun.

Evelyn: I don't think that's a good idea. Monopoly brings out a darker side of you. It can get a little scary.

Riley: I don't know what you mean.

Evelyn: Last time, when you started losing, you yelled “Communism, bitch” and flipped the board. You didn't speak for like, a whole day after that.

Riley: I will not apologise for dismantling a corrupt system. [Pause] Maybe not Monopoly.

Evelyn: What about Pictionary?

Riley: Evelyn, this is audio, we might as well spend half an hour doing interpretive dances. Plus, Pictionary sucks.

Evelyn: I thought you were doing this to cheer me up?

Riley: I am, but I've also gotta think about the bigger picture. How about Clue?

Evelyn: I appreciate that you're trying, but that one is literally about death.

Riley: Uhhh. Uno? Chutes and Ladders? Hide the Pineapple? I think I've got one about dinosaurs in here somewhere...

Evelyn: Wait, you told me nobody ever came down here before I started haunting you. Why do you have all these?

Riley: When I was on my own I'd just play with myself.

[Beat]

Evelyn: Do you want to try that sentence again?

Riley: I don't believe in rephrasing. It's for cowards and politicians.

SOUND: Evelyn groans.

Evelyn: Why does the afterlife have these stupid rules, anyway? Who wrote the ghoul clause? What’s the point?

Riley: I mean if you think about it, life and death is a lot like chutes and ladders: the rules are arbitrary, and it's mostly pure chance disguised as meaningful choice.

Evelyn: Well, that's existentially terrifying.

Riley: Really? I feel like it takes the pressure off. It means I can't really be blamed for any of the dumb shit I've done.

Evelyn: I mean, I guess that's true.

Riley: Shit, wait, did we do the--

SOUND: Riley is cut off by the intro music.

Riley: Intro?

Evelyn: Hey party people! If you're listening to this, it means that you're probably alive, but death inches ever closer!

Riley: People will tell you that Bigfoot didn't assassinate JFK - but he never gave a solid alibi. Welcome to Less Is Morgue. I'm Riley.

[MOMENT OF SILENCE]

Evelyn: Say it.

Riley: Do I have to?

Evelyn: It’d make me happy.

Riley: That doesn't compel me, Evelyn.

Evelyn: Riley…

Riley: Fine! I'm Riley, your best ghoulfriend.

Evelyn: And I’m Evelyn, your Ghost Host with the Most!

Riley: And on this show, we--

SOUND: Electrical noises, growing increasingly obtrusive.

Riley: What’s that noise?

Evelyn: Did you leave that snow cone machine plugged in again?

Riley: You leave Mr. Frosty out of this. This is...different.

SOUND: The electrical noises suddenly build to explosive proportions.

Evelyn: Hit the deck!

SOUND: BOOM! Followed by silence.

Riley: What the fuck was that?

SOUND: Casual footsteps approach.

Todd: Who the fuck was that, actually.

Riley: Sorry. Who the fuck are you?

Todd: Oh, where are my manners? Name’s Todd, nice to meet you.

Evelyn: Hi, Todd!

Riley: Get out of my basement!

Todd: Friends, pals, buddies, there's no need to get so aggressive. I'm a patron of the arts.

Riley: Well, this is where art comes to die. Now piss off!

Todd: I don't think you're quite comprehending what I'm offering you here, Riley.

Evelyn: How do you know their name?

Todd: I'm a big fan of the show, and I wanted to buy some ad time.

Evelyn: You probably could have just sent an email.

Riley: We don't have fans. And we don’t run ads.

Todd: Uh, yeah you do. I’ve heard them. Like the Zeus condoms and that crappy Grave Boat movie.

Evelyn: Oh, we don't license those. They just end up on the file somehow.

Riley: Our best guess is that the frequencies we tune into to pick up Evelyn’s voice also put us on the same wavelengths as some real weird shit.

Todd: So those ads aren't even monetised?

Evelyn: Nope.

Todd: [Shudders] Seems you guys really need a person like me.

Riley: We don't even know who you are, Todd.

Todd: Then please, let me sell you the dream!

Riley: I can already feel the migraine coming on.

---

SOUND: Twee, public-domain sounding acoustic guitar music begins to play.

Todd: Afterlives are like telecom companies - when you die, you’re generally stuck with the big five. You’ve got your Hindus, your Muslims, your Christians, your Jewish folks, your Sikhs.

Riley: What about whacky fringe religions, like Scientology?

Evelyn: Oh, they just go to regular hell.

Todd: Point is, it’s an oligopoly. But not only are you limiting your choices with those lame analog afterlives, they’re also full of old people. It’s like Facebook, it’s a retirement home up there.

Evelyn: Well yeah, most people who die tend to be old--

Todd: [Totally ignores Evelyn] Wouldn’t it be so much better if there was a newer, cooler afterlife? A place for millenial and gen Z ghosts, who don’t wanna rub elbows with a million dull, geriatric phantoms every day? You know, the kind of ancient ghosts who still think Gerry and the Pacemakers are the next big thing? You want an afterlife that you can rely on. An afterlife with ads tailored to your preferences. An afterlife with regular software updates and downloadable content!

Riley: That sounds horrible.

Todd: And that is where I come in! I’m something of a market disruptor - you know, an innovator, a blue sky thinker, always on my grind - and when I see a problem, my internal marketing engine gives me a solution. I’m the Steve Jobs of metaphysics. The Zucc of spiritual solutions.

Riley: The Jim Jones of venture capital.

Todd: Ooh, I like that. Mind if I use it in future?

Evelyn: [Baffled] You shouldn’t want to use it…

Todd: Look, I’ll cut to the chase: I’m offering an alternative to all the crap the other gods are trying to shill. My own, private afterlife, for young, trendy influencers. An Instagram-friendly Elysian Field. I call it...Todd’s Heaven.

---

Riley: Wow, how’d you come up with that?

Todd: [Completely missing the sarcasm] Months of rigorous A-B testing.

Evelyn: Two questions - Firstly, how did you even get here, and secondly, how the heck do you make your own afterlife?

Todd: First answer: Astral projection. It’s not that hard. Second answer: I bought a plot of land in the Midwest with some seed money and set up shop there. We’re still working out the kinks, but early adopters are getting a discount for helping with tests. Diego and Dalton Dupre are already there.

Riley: Those YouTubers who died doing the “eat plastic explosives challenge”?

Todd: The very same! Great guys. Great, great guys. They signed on immediately, after we finally managed to find their hands.

Evelyn: So they’re all just gonna be hanging out in a field in Kansas?

Todd: I could explain this all day, but that’d be terribly inefficient. All the details are in my book, right here.

SOUND: Todd passes the book to Riley.

Riley: [Incredulous] Todd’s Bible?

Todd: Actually, if you look closely, you’ll see there’s an umlaut above the second B, so it’s pronounced “Bibble.”

Riley: That’s not how letters work.

Evelyn: Why not just call it Todd’s Bible?

Todd: Todd’s Bibble has better SEO. Plus, it helps me avoid a potential copyright suit. [annoyed muttering] Thanks a lot, Yahweh.

Riley: Wait. So you’re trying to create a whole new belief system...about yourself?

Todd: Well, yeah, you can’t have an afterlife without a belief system. It’s all there in chapter four of the Bibble.

Riley: I get that you’re probably trying to do a nice thing here, but everything about it is stupid and terrible.

Todd: They called the iPod stupid and terrible when it first came out.

Evelyn: No they didn’t, everyone loved it. They made millions of dollars.

Todd: We’ll agree to disagree. What I’m offering you two lucky ladies--

Riley: I’m not a lady.

Todd: [Doesn’t miss a beat] What I’m offering you two lucky individuals, is some cold, hard cash in exchange for your on-air endorsement. Right now, Todd’s Heaven isn’t exactly moving the needle, but that’s natural for something on the bleeding edge of post-death technology. We’re leading this horse to water and the poor thing’s got no idea how thirsty it is.

Riley: Do you speak entirely in buzz-words?

Todd: I think you and your fans would benefit from the products I have to offer here. It could be a lucrative brand deal - Evelyn, you're guaranteed a place there, and Riley, you're more than welcome to have a free ride if you die before you're thirty. Which, given your diet and attitude towards self-care, is likely.

Riley: [Muttering] Dick.

Todd: This isn't just gonna be another flop, like Karma 2 or Ghost Pepsi, it’s gonna be huge - and you two can get in on the ground floor!

Evelyn: If you expect us to tell people about it on the podcast, wouldn't it make sense for us to at least see it first?

Todd: Uh, I…

Riley: Yeah, Todd, you can't expect us to shill your stuff when we don't even know if it's decent. And, if we’re being honest with ourselves, it probably isn't.

Todd: [Nervous laugh] Well, it’s early days, we’re prototyping, there’s a lot of bug-fixing and growth-hacking still left to do…

Evelyn: I’m sure it's not that bad, it'd just be a little peek.

Todd: [Frustrated] Oh, for the love of Todd, fine! But I won't have you judging it like it's a final product, because there's still so much crunch work we need to do.

Evelyn: Yay! I can't wait to see it!

Todd: Evelyn, you come with me. We’ll report back once you've been thoroughly impressed by the hipness and majesty of Todd’s Heaven.

Evelyn: Wait, won’t Riley have to come with us?

Todd: Nah, I’ll take temporary custody. Don't you worry, Riley, I'll have her back in one piece before you can say “Cutting-edge industry solutions”.

Riley: Hollow promises from a stranger currently invading my personal space don’t really ease my concerns.

Evelyn: [soft, while Riley speaks] Cutting edge...industry…What does that even...

Todd: Riley… [chuckles] Riley, Riley, Riley…

Riley: Stop that.

Todd: We’re not strangers! You know my name, don’t you?

Riley: Yeah, but that doesn’t--

Todd: See! Not strangers! You can trust me!

Riley: You sound like somebody about to snatch a child.

Todd: You would know, Myxter Almanzor.

Riley: You sure you’re comfortable with this, Evelyn? Cause you don’t have to do anything this smiley, man-bun-wearing creep says.

Evelyn: Aw, Riley, it’s okay! If something happens I’ll pop right back here.

Todd: Also, I get nothing from ghost-napping a small time podcast host. Far, far, far bigger fish to fry.

Riley: [grunts in annoyance] Alright. Not like I can stop you, anyway.

Evelyn: Right! Do you think you can hold down the fort while I'm gone?

Riley: I’ll survive.

Todd: Alright, then let’s go.

SOUND: The same loud, electrical noises as earlier.

Evelyn: See you all soooooooon--

SOUND: BOOM! Todd and Evelyn are gone.

Riley: [Sighs in relief] Peace at last. Now, it's time to do the podcast my way. The Riley Almanzor entertainment extravaganza we’ve all been waiting for…

SOUND: Long pause, something drips in the background.

Riley: Huh. Guess I needed a little more prep time for this. [Hums a tune, trying to think of what to say] Oh! I'm writing a novel, have been for a couple years now. It's High Fantasy, about a brave and gallant hero called R’lyeh who's trying to make their way through a world of loud, annoying people who always wanna touch their stuff. One sec, It’s written in longhand in all my notebooks…

SOUND: Papers rustling.

Riley: Ah-hah! Chapter Seven, where R’lyeh sticks it to their mom for telling them being an aspiring writer - I mean, uh, knight - isn't a real job. I'll read you an extract. “R’lyeh stands before her, sword in hand, ready to plunge it into her big, stupid, judgemental face…”

[WEIRD AD TIME]

SOUND: The dullest, most nondescript elevator music you've ever heard.

Bored Narrator: Do you like modern Top 40 music, but feel like it's a little too complex and cerebral for your tastes? Do you prefer music to tune you out of your body, like a kind of audio heroin? Do you think the quality of a song is inversely proportional to the amount of singing and number of instruments involved?

SOUND: The narrator gives a long, breathy sigh.

Bored Narrator: Great. We have the album for you. For the low, low price of 9.99, you can pick up a lightly-used copy of “Now That’s What I Call Noise 17.” Featuring all your favourite 2002 semi-hits and Public Domain easy-listening music. If your will to go on is incidental to--

SOUND: The narrator’s voice warps and then melts into silence.

Todd: While I'm sure we were all enjoying the ad for that wonderful product, I'm hijacking the signal with a very special message: There has never been a better time to sign up for Todd’s Heaven.

SOUND: Todd’s twee acoustic guitar music kicks into gear again.

Todd: With the fabric of reality growing weaker every day, the likelihood of large swathes of the population dying before thirty is increasing. Is this bad news? Of course not! Meatspace reality is going out of style. [Creepy, glitchy effect on voice] Everything’s decaying. [Laughs, returns to normal] But when life gives you lemons, you create a kind of lemon-counting app that disenfranchises lemon farmers across Florida. We can--

SOUND: The bored narrator begins to return, like a signal interruption.

Bored Narrator: This album is the answer to problems nobody has.

Todd: Oh, come on, I was just getting to the good part.

SOUND: Todd’s guitar music stops; the elevator music resumes.

Bored Narrator: If you call in with promo code [screams], we’ll add a dollar to the price. “Now That’s What I Call Noise 17.” It’s relentless.

[END OF WEIRD AD TIME]

Riley: “...And R’lyeh strikes the foul beast again with their sword, and screams, ‘In the modern world, you can make a living off of creativity if you find your audience! It’s called Patreon, bitch!’--”

SOUND: The same electrical interference, building.

Riley: [Sighs] I guess it was fun while it lasted. [Slurps]

SOUND: BOOM! Evelyn and Todd return.

Riley: Hey, how was Kansas? Crush any witches?

Evelyn: Nope, only my spirit.

Todd: What are you drinking? Is that milk?

Riley: [Slurp] What, this? No, I'm lactose intolerant, this is mayo. [Burps]

Todd: [Gags] Oh my Todd, that's horrifying.

Riley: I'm not forcing you to drink it. [Slurp] So, Evelyn, how was Todd’s Hypebeast Hellscape?

Evelyn: It’s the most Supreme merchandise I've ever seen in one place.

Todd: [Tuts] You say that like it's a bad thing.

Evelyn: All of the people there just stand around making six-second-long sketches and jokes. It's super awkward to watch in real-time.

Todd: That’s to be expected, a lot of them died during the Vine era.

Riley: And you've not even told them the app’s gone!? That's sick!

Todd: Where do you think the app went when it died? All of Tumblr’s porn is there, too.

Evelyn: But that's not even the worst part!

Todd: I feel like you're just being unfair now.

Evelyn: There’s a boombox in the center of Todd’s Heaven that just plays “MMMbop” constantly.

Riley: Wait, what? The Hansen song?

Todd: It’s a great song! Catchy, up-beat, nice rhythm…

SOUND: Todd begins snapping his fingers and humming MMMbop, as if to say, “see? It's great!”

Evelyn: Every time it ends it just plays again. It's looping eternally.

Todd: I'll be able to get the rights to more music when I have the capital!

SOUND: Riley slurps their mayo.

Todd: For Todd’s sake, will you stop drinking that? I feel like I’m gonna barf every time you do it. It’s revolting.

Riley: I’ll stop drinking the mayo when you stop awkwardly forcing your name into things.

Todd: [Frustrated] Then it seems we’re at an impasse. You know, you’re not the only influencers I’ve approached - RedPillWarrior500’s check is in the mail, and I’ve got a tentative “yes” from Dwayne Wayne Wayne.

Evelyn: Isn’t he a serial killer?

Todd: Well, yeah, if you wanna split hairs, but his execution is scheduled for before his 28th birthday, so he still makes the cutoff.

Riley: Has it ever occurred to you that you might be more successful if you focused on making a decent product rather than just constantly marketing it?

Todd: You clearly don’t understand the gig economy, Riley.

Riley: There’s a lot about this I don’t understand.

SOUND: Todd sighs.

Todd: Shame. Real shame. It’s as much my fault as it is yours - well, probably more your fault. You’ve really put me in a difficult position here.

Evelyn: We’re sorry!

Riley: No, we are absolutely not! We didn’t even invite you here!

Todd: [In his own world] Damage control. Of course, you understand I can’t let you release this episode. It’d be terrible PR for Todd’s Heaven, right as we’re beginning to take off.

Evelyn: There were like twenty people there, it really isn’t taking off.

Todd: Well, I have it on good authority that in a couple months Apple is going to release a faulty selfie-stick that explodes after three uses, so those numbers are IRRELEVANT! This episode is never going to air.

Riley: I shared an entire chapter of my novel, there’s no way in hell we’re losing that audio.

Todd: Funny you should mention that, because Todd’s Hell is really--

Evelyn: Maybe you should just go home, Todd. You can work on your next...thing.

Todd: I’m not leaving until I see this slanderous episode wiped from your hard drive. I’d hate to have to get my legal team involved. Or worse…

SOUND: Those electrical noises building.

Todd: [Creepy] After all, you have no idea what I’m capable of.

Riley: Why does this always happen to us? I just wanted to make a podcast, for Todd’s sake. [Beat] Fuck, now I'm saying it!

Todd: Delete the episode. Now!

Evelyn: Uh, how about we cut you a deal, instead?

Riley: I never approved a deal. We didn’t discuss this.

Todd: [returning to normal] I’m listening. Go on.

Evelyn: We’ll play a game! If we win, we get to upload the episode, and you leave.

Todd: Hmm. Not buying it so far. What if I win?

Evelyn: If you win, we’ll delete this episode, and we’ll record a new one where we talk about how great Todd’s Heaven is the whole time, free of charge.

Riley: WHAT!?

Todd: Okay, I’m back in. What’s the game?

Evelyn: Uhh…

Riley: Um…

Todd: I’m waiting…

Evelyn: Oh, Monopoly! The game is Monopoly.

Riley: [Exhausted] Sure, why the fuck not?

Todd: Alright, deal. But only if I get to be the car.

Evelyn: I’ll take the dog! Look at its cute lil’ fur mustache!

Riley: Guess I'll be the boot.

SOUND: Shuffling.

Evelyn: Riley, what are you doing?

Riley: I’m gonna pause the recording. This could take a while.

Todd: Capitalism, don’t fail me now…

SOUND: Click. Silence for a few seconds. When we return, shit’s real heated. Riley’s muffled, close snickering can be heard before they pull away to return to the game.

Todd: This is bullshit! You can't just take all my hotels!

Riley: Well, how else do you plan on paying us, Todd?

Todd: Uhh...Uhhhh...Can you maybe extend my credit?

Evelyn: Sorry, no can do, it's against the rules.

Todd: Oh, come on, can’t you just bend the rules for once and show me a little compassion?

Riley: That’s not really in line with the spirit of the game, Todd. Monopoly’s a bloodsport, and you just got bled.

Todd: [Muttering indistinguishable obscenities under his breath]

SOUND: Todd shuffling through cards and paper, fumbling as an idea hits him.

Todd: [desperate] Can I sell my car?

Riley: That’s not gonna cut it, considering the resale value. You know cars lose half their worth the moment they’re driven out of the lot? Pretty fucked up system.

Evelyn: Also, it’s technically not an asset in the game. How would you be able to play without a piece?

Todd: Please, I’ll do anything! This is my thing! [breaking up, genuinely frustrated] I’m supposed to be good at this!

Riley: And yet, here you are.

Evelyn: [Chipper] Hotels, please.

Todd: Alright, fine, take all the stupid hotels.

SOUND: Todd throws a handful of plastic hotels.

Todd: Take my shoes, while you’re at it! Want my wife? Kids? Take those too! My soul?! Hell, why not-- well, actually…

Evelyn: Do you have any of those things?

Riley: Doesn’t matter, game’s over.

SOUND: Todd groans in frustration.

Riley: And that, Todd, is called bankruptcy.

Todd: Don’t you dare ghoulsplain business to me, Almanzor, I know business.

Riley: Whatever you say, buddy. GG.

Todd: Oh, screw you. Screw both of you!

Evelyn: Nobody likes a sore loser, Todd.

Todd: I am not a loser. You're losers! I'm an entrepreneur - I'm making things that matter. Things that have value! Apps, websites, proprietary software! I’m not some morbid geek making a podcast in their literal basement! You think people are actually gonna listen to this bullshit? No studio? No celebrity guests!? You don’t even live in New York or LA!

Evelyn: Jeez, it was just a game! Lighten up, Todd.

Todd: [scoffs] It’s all a game, Evelyn! Life, death, business, Monopoly. And none of it matters unless I win!

Riley: Maybe it's time for you to leave. You’ve got some wounds to lick.

Todd: Oh, I'm going, but because I want to, not because you told me to!

Evelyn: I don’t really see how that makes a dif--

Todd: And one more thing! You may think we’re done here, but my grind never ends! People like me make the future. We get to decide what it looks like, and we get to decide who's allowed in it. Just keep that in mind next time you want to mess up my business. Todd out!

SOUND: Quick, electrical outburst, and BOOM! Todd’s gone.

Riley: What a drama queen.

Evelyn: It was nice to play a real game of Monopoly, though.

Riley: Leave it to you to find the silver lining of our podcast getting hijacked.

Evelyn: I mean, for a computer nerd with a God complex, he wasn't all that bad. Nobody ended up dead - or deader.

Riley: Yeah, I guess. At least he didn't try to eat the universe, that's a plus.

Evelyn: See? It’s easy to look on the bright side when you stop and think about it.

Riley: I’ve gotta hand it to you, Hooper, for someone with objectively terrible taste in everything, you’re surprisingly wise.

Evelyn: I dunno, I think I have pretty good taste in friends.

Riley: Okay, okay, anymore emotional sincerity and I’m gonna start feeling uncomfortable.

Evelyn: I’ll get you there one day.

Riley: How come you're so chipper, anyway? When we started recording you were getting the post-mortality blues.

Evelyn: Well, I realized there are things worse than being an earth-bound spirit stuck to a ghoul who doesn't get out much.

Riley: Like what?

Evelyn: Todd’s Heaven.

Riley: I really should have seen that coming.

Evelyn: Wanna go play Chutes and Ladders?

Riley: Sounds good to me, Ev.

[THE END]