#antecedently

[catsnraincoats]

Podcasts rated on their cat representation

[novis-musica]

Controversial opinion

[antecedentlypod]

EPISODE 5 TRANSCRIPT

[OPENING MUSIC]

[FISH LAUGHS EXCITEDLY]

FISH

I think that today, I will cause problems on purpose! 

Ummmm… Okay. [unintelligible muttering] Uh—here we go. [she clears her throat] I don’t… remember how he does his intro.

[Clearly and with intent] Siren’s Song.

FISH (STORY)

Your name is Harmony. A bit on the nose, maybe, you like it just fine. After all, you picked it out yourself, didn’t you? Yes, because before it had been Piper, and Jane before that, and Cicily before it was anything else at all. And now, you’re Harmony, and the lights are bright downtown and you are so very far from home. Do you miss the sea? Do you miss the biting air and the feel of the salt embedding itself beneath your skin until you can’t tell the difference between it and your veins? Of course, you do. But most of all, you miss a good and proper meal.

Your name is Harmony, and you are dancing until your feet ache. You can’t remember the name of the club, just that the music is loud and you know the girls on stage. They smile back at you and for a moment, under the strobe light that matches the pounding in your head, you can nearly see the gills or the flash of a feather. And faintly, beneath the base and the shouting, you can hear them sing along.

Their name is Adah. They’re dancing alongside you, against you, everywhere. They grin and ask something you can’t quite hear over the music but you nod anyway. You can tell they’re the sort of folk that’s there most nights and they’ve coated their face in wonderful, pink glitter. They’re swaying and jumping along to the music perfectly in sync with the way it’s entranced them. It’s then that you know exactly what they’d asked for when you reach into your back pocket and slip out a little tab. It’s got something or another printed on it you don’t remember. It’s whatever they want it to be. They laugh and stick out their tongue when they see it and you shake your head, and you lead them to the bathroom. They skip behind you and keep a hand on your waist the whole way down. They don’t seem to notice how boney it’s become. 

You come out of the bathroom Adah-less and pleased. Your hunger is quenched for the time being, although you do feel awfully sorry for whoever wanders in there next. You let the tab sit on your own tongue, and then you’re off again, waiting for someone to get just this side of too close. You rather like it at the clubs and cabarets—easy pray and all, but it isn’t long before the inky black floods the streets and you decide that that’s much more their playground than yours.

And so, his name is Markus. He plays the guitar, albeit rather poorly, and he sings with confidence rather than skill. You found a flyer for his show on a telephone pole in the city, and you talked to him at the small merch stand afterward. Markus… Markus wants to be a star.

So, your name is Harmony and suddenly, you’re an agent.

He shakes your hand with a broad grin and babbles about how excited he is to be working with you. You invite him over to talk business and he agrees to Wednesday afternoon after his shift at a nearby sandwich shop. He doesn’t notice when you lick your lips in excitement. Days come and go, but nothing really matters but the approaching promise of company. Wednesday comes slowly like a watched pot, but still; there’s a knock at your door. He stands beaming and clutching a tattered guitar case, shifting feet before the porch while he goes on and on about his day and such. You aren’t really listening, 

“Enough chit-chat,” you tell him, “let’s get to it then.” So you clear your throat, and then you’re singing the sweetest song he’s ever heard. “All you have to do is sign right here and I can make all your dreams come true, Mr. Cunningham. I can put a good word in with the right people, I can get your name out there. Really, it won’t be long before everyone knows your name. And that’s what you want, isn’t it? 

“Aw, poor Markus, no one’s ever known your name, have they? Even your father called you champ when he forgot. Last picked in gym, always having to partner up with the teacher, or making a group of three with best friends that glare at you what you do a bulk of the project. Not anymore. They’ll be in the front row at your concert. Screaming your name. I can make you a God.”

That’s more than enough to get him inside, that lovely glazed look in his eye all the way up the steps. You’re on him before the door is even fully shut. Teeth meet flesh and tear like scissors through wrapping paper, the hope in his blood making it taste that much sweeter. Your wings unfold and lift you high enough to descend upon his face, gnawing it down to bone and relishing the way his tongue slides whole down your throat. After some short time, The bones of Markus Cunningham lay licked clean and dry on the floor of this months’ home. 

You really ought to stop making such a mess.

Your name is Harmony and this month, you’re a defense attorney. You’ve never been very good at arguing, but persuasion happens to be your specialty. Lace that sweet sing-song into your words and any jury will fall at your feet. And you’re paid quite well too. You like to pick up the tough cases, the real irredeemable scumbags. “I’ll get you off scott-free,” you tell them, “You know how many cases I’ve lost? None. Lower than anything, yeah? I do my job right well sir, you trust that.”

So this month’s name is Blake McFarlin, she held a family at gunpoint for some debt the father owed, money they didn’t have, and she shot the little one dead. All evidence points to her, she cleans up about as well as you do. The best part is, she doesn’t seem to think she did anything wrong. And, in no time, you’ve got the jury convinced of the very same. The judge lets her go with a couple years parole and she’s clinging to your arm, crying, thanking you. You smile at her, and you say “Of course, doll. Now say I buy you a drink, huh? To celebrate?” She nods into your sleeve and you take separate cars to a bar a few blocks over. You’ve got the photos of that poor little kid in the testimonies of her weeping parents in your head the whole way over. You’ve only just barely dragged her into the back alley before you’re ripping her apart. It feels… right. It feels just to get her that close to freedom and take it all away.  You hope that little girl knows this monster got what was coming to her. Her vocal cords are stuck between your teeth like floss before she can scream for help, her arms and mangled hands are waving frantically around for purchase, finding nothing but your bared, sharp shoulders and kicking at your legs long off the ground. You lick your lips clean and let her fall to the ground almost lifeless. You snap her legs, toothpicks between your taloned feet, and you leave her there to bleed the rest of the way out. She doesn’t deserve to go out clean and quick. 

Your name is Harmony. You sit in your office chair throne at the tippy-top of a many-leveled building that towers over the people that walk beneath it. Beneath you. It’s been an endless food chain of prophet and the profited, and you fancy yourself the apex predator. There’s not a thing in this world your money can’t buy. And yet, it’s never quite enough. Tear down these apartments, pave this forest, drain them all dry of pennies and dimes, and the blood on their bones. Sing them sweet on fortune and fame and toss them when you’re done gorging yourself on all they have to offer. It’s not quite the sea but, times change. And sometimes, for the better.

You aren’t sure of the last time you met hunger, but satisfaction begins to bore you. And you find that you so desperately crave the hunt. And so you tear that castle of exploit and exploited down to rubble from top to bottom and you set off to the next city, the next country, the next chorus, the next meal. 

Your name is Harmony, but it isn’t is it? No, your name is something pitchy that leaves a burn on the tongue of those unfortunate enough to speak it. But don’t let that stop you, you’re getting awful… hungry.

The end.

[FISH BREATHES HEAVILY IN HORROR, A DOOR OPENS]

LORRIE

Hey, uhhh, whatcha doin’ there Fishy?

FISH

[obviously horrified] Um… I, I, uh, I was just… Y'know, um, fucking around? [nervous laugh] I was just um, I dunno poking a little fun at you? Y’know, like a little sibling does, but, um, what the fuck is up with this story? I-is this a joke? I mean, it was marked in your book. I wanted to see what it was all about so I just kin—I just kinda read it? This is the shit you’ve been reading? The one I sat in for was, like, totally fine! But this? 

LORRIE

[guiltily] Uh, yeah. Yep, I—I know. Some of them are… really off-putting— 

FISH

[duh, but make it scared] Yeah.

LORRIE

That’s… That’s one of the reasons I, uh, I kicked you out the other day. I read all the stories before I record them just to like, get them in my head and get ready for them, and I knew that second one was weird? I didn’t want… you to have to listen to me read it. I kinda go into a, uh, like a uh, uh, a trance? Sort of? When I read.

[FISH SCOFFS QUIETLY]

FISH

[appalled] You… you don’t think it’s a little weird? That your children's audiobook company or whatever is sending you shit like this? What—what do you even know about them beyond the name on your paycheck? This is—this is fucked up!

LORRIE

[dismissive] Mhh, I-I mean they’re weird but that’s what they sent me! They just send me the story numbers for this month, y’know, and then I record them, send them off, and I get paid. I don’t particularly care what happens after that.

FISH

[angrily] Yeah. You get paid. Lorrie? Bubba? This story is basically some twisted, gory version of the truth of late-stage capitalism? The world? I dunno—this isn’t a fucking kids story is what it is. 

LORRIE

None of them really are! What else did you expect? Like, hell, The Devil’s Sooty Brother, does that sound like a kid’s story to you?

FISH

I-I dunno! It’s not this! I-I just, I thought you were reading, fuckin, Goldilocks, or something! Not, like… gore...dielocks? I just—Listen, I—this is giving me really bad vibes, like intensely bad. Like, horrible, money-grubbing, child-traumatizing vibes. There’s gotta be other jobs out there.

LORRIE

[a bit fed up] There are other jobs out there! I like this one! I don’t have to leave the house, or like, talk with anyone, and I get to hang out with our dog all day. The story contents don’t exactly bother me much.

Why do they bother you so much?

FISH

I… I dunno. I don’t usually get scared easily it’s just—it’s not right, bubs. It’s not fucking right. Something weird is going on here and you’re just ignoring it! What if you’re getting tangled up with something… I dunno something really, really bad? I don’t know what I would do if you… [Lorrie sighs]. You really don’t see anything wrong with this?

LORRIE

[struggling] I mean—I, I guess I do? I don’t fucking know! [frustrated noise] I need to record, Fish. I need some fucking peace and quiet. 

[FISH SCOFFS]

FISH

[angry disbelief] Yeah, fine. Whatever.

[FISH LEAVES THE ROOM, THERE IS A LONG TENSE SILENCE. LORRIE SIGHS]

LORRIE

[in denial] It’s fine. It’s fine! This—this isn’t that big of a deal. I’ll—[sigh] I’ll talk it out with her later, it’s fine. We always work out our little fights, I guess. Siblings fight all the time! It’s normal. Even if… you’re not related by blood.  [deep, steadying breath]

Take one of Rapunzel. [muttering] I need to find the page. [Another sigh, pages turning as Lorrie looks through the book]. Take one of Rapunzel. Read by Lorrie Ada--

[SCENE CUT]

LORRIE (CONT)

Take three—

[SCENE CUT]

LORRIE (CONT)

Take seven of Rapunzel. Read by Lorrie Adams.

LORRIE (STORY)

Once upon a time, there was a husband and wife who, for some time, had been wishing in vain for a child. Finally, the dear Lord gave them a sign of hope that their wish would be fulfilled. Now, in the back of their house, the couple had a small window that overlooked a splendid garden filled with the most beautiful flowers and herbs. The garden, however, was surrounded by a high wall and nobody dared enter it because it belonged to a sorceress who was very powerful, and feared by all. One day when the wife was standing at the window and looking down into the garden, she noticed a bed of the finest Rapunzel lettuce; the lettuce looked so fresh and green that her mouth watered and she had a great craving to eat some. Day by day this crazing increased and since she knew she could not get any, she began to waste away and look pale and miserable. Her husband became alarmed and asked, “What’s wrong with you dear wife?”

“Ah,” she responded, “I shall certainly die if I don’t get any of that Rapunzel from that garden behind our house.” Her husband, who loved her, thought ‘before I let my wife die I’ll do anything I must to make sure she gets some Rapunzel.’

That day at dusk, he climbed over the wall and into the garden of the sorceress, hastily grabbed a handful of Rapunzel, and brought them to his wife. Immediately, she made them into a salad with great zest, but the Rapunzel tasted so good to her, so very good, that her desire for them was three times greater the next day. If she were to have any peace, her husband knew he had to climb into the garden once more. So at dusk, he scaled the wall again, and just as he landed on the other side he was given a tremendous scare, for he stood face to face with the sorceress.

“How dare you climb into my garden and steal my Rapunzel like a thief!” She said with an angry look. “You’ll pay for this!” 

“Oh,” he cried, “Please let mercy prevail over justice. I did this only because I was in a predicament, my wife noticed your Rapunzel from our window and she developed such a great craving for it that she would have died if I hadn’t brought her some to eat.”  Upon hearing that, the anger of the sorceress subsided, and she said to him; “If it is truly as you say, I shall permit you to take as many Rapunzel as you’d like, but only under one condition. When your wife gives birth I must have the child. You needn’t fear about the child’s wellbeing, for I will take care of it like a mother.” In his fear, the man agreed to everything, and when his wife had the baby his sorceress appeared at once. She gave the child the name Rapunzel and took her away.

Rapunzel grew to be the most beautiful child under the sun, but when she was twelve years old the sorceress locked her in a tower in a forest. It had neither door nor stairs, only a little window high above. Whenever the sorceress wanted to get in, she would stand below and call out, “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair for me.” Rapunzel’s hair was long and radiant, as fine as spun gold. Every time she heard the voice of the sorceress, she unpinned her braids and wound them around a hook on the window. Then she let her hair drop twenty yards and the sorceress would climb up on it.  A few years later, a king’s son happened to be riding through the forest and passed by the tower. Suddenly, he heard a song so lovely that he stopped to listen. It was Rapunzel, who passed the time in her solitude by letting her sweet voice resound in the forest. The prince wanted to climb up to her, and he looked for a door but could not find one. So he rode home. However, the song had touched his heart so deeply that he rode out into the forest every day and listened. One time as he was standing behind a tree, he saw the sorceress approach and heard her call out;

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!” Then Rapunzel let down her braids and the sorceress climbed up to her.

“If that is the ladder that one needs to get up there, then I am also going to try my luck,” the prince declared. The next day as it began to get dark, he went to the tower and called out “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!” All at once, the hair dropped down and the prince climbed up. When he entered the tower, Rapunzel was at first terribly afraid for she had never laid eyes on a man before. However, the prince began to talk to her in a friendly way and told her that her song had touched his heart so deeply, that he had not been able to rest until he had seen her. Rapunzel then lost her fear and when he asked her whether she’d have him for her husband, she saw that he was young and handsome. She thought, ‘he’ll certainly love me better than old Mother Gothel’. So she said yes and placed her hand in his. 

“I want to go down with you very much,” she said, “but I don’t know how I can get down. Every time you come you must bring a skein of silk with you and I’ll weave it into a ladder. When it’s finished, then I’ll climb down and you can take me away on your horse.” They agreed that until then, he would come to her every evening, for the old woman came during the day. Meanwhile, the sorceress did not notice anything until one day, Rapunzel blurted out; “Mother Gothel, how is it that you’re much heavier than the prince? When I pull him up, he’s here in a second.”

“Ah, you godless child,” exclaimed the sorceress, “What’s this I hear? I thought I had made sure that you had no contact with the outside world, but you’ve deceived me.” In her fury, she seized Rapunzel’s beautiful hair and wrapped it around her left-hand several times, grabbed a pair of scissors with her right hand, and snip! Snap! The hair was cut off and the beautiful braids lay on the ground. Then, the cruel sorceress took Rapunzel to a desolate land where she had to live in the great misery and grief. On the same day she banished Rapunzel, the sorceress fastened the braids that she had cut off to the hook in the window, and that evening when the prince came and called out “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!” she let the hair down. The prince climbed up, but instead of finding his dearest Rapunzel on top, he found the sorceress who gave him vicious and angry looks.

“Aha!” She exclaimed with contempt, “You want to fetch your darling wife, but the beautiful bird is no longer sitting in the nest and she won’t be singing anymore. The cat has got her, and it will also scratch out your eyes. Rapunzel is lost to you and you will never see her again!” The prince was beside himself with grief and in his despair, he jumped off the tower. He escaped with his life, but the thorns he fell into pierced his eyes and so he became blind. Now he strayed about in the forest, ate nothing but roots and berries, and did nothing but mourn and weep about the loss of his dearest wife. Thus he wandered for many years in misery, eventually, he made his way to the desolate land where Rapunzel was leading a wretched existence with the twins, a boy and a girl to whom she had given birth. And when he heard a voice that he thought sounded familiar, he went straight towards it and when he reached her, Rapunzel recognized him. She embraced him and wept, and as two of her tears dropped onto his eyes, they became clear and he could see again. Then, he escorted her back to his kingdom, where he was received with joy and they lived happily and contentedly for a long time thereafter.

LORRIE

This one… wasn’t so bad. I mean, like, it’s still got gory bits, unfortunately, but it’s not nearly as bad as the last one. The one that Fish read, I mean.

[slowly spiraling] I don’t like fighting with her. It makes both of us feel bad and then, then, th-then shit is weird between us for like, days and it sucks feeling like I can’t talk to her. Because she’s the most important person in my life. Thank god we don’t fight that often. [sigh] But this fight seemed… different. I don’t know what she’s thinking is so wrong with the stories! They’re just, they’re jus—They’re just stories! There’s not really any issues, right? I—It’s just a book! Doesn’t matter that it was on the other side of the office this morning when I came in to set up. Fish probably came in and like, browsed through it last night. Probably just wanted some light reading material.

[Sadly] I really should go talk to her. I’m gonna go talk to her.

End recording.

[CLOSING MUSIC]

[turntechgodheaded]

hello everyone

i!! have started a podcast!!! its called antecedently and the first ep is out! yall can find it on spotify + youtube rn, im working on getting it out on other apps as well but for now thats it! 

we have a blog and stuff, but heres the link to our website that has all the information you might need!! please consider listening to it, itd mean a lot to me!!!

thank u!!!

[catsnraincoats]

I've decided to just type Antsesncely worse every time. You all know what I mean. Antfrankenstienly.

[dysaniadisorder]

GAY ghost podcast

[image ID: three digital bust drawings of the Antecedently characters against light pink backgrounds.

The first is of Fish Stanley, a skinny, light tan korean person with a black mullet and small dyed purple streak. they have one black eye and one dark brown, scattered freckles, a septum piercing, and a mole under her mouth and two on her collarbone. They’re wearing an arcade carpet print button up shirt thats slightly unbuttoned at the top and a peach colored sweatshirt over it, and a circular nonbinary flag pin. Shes looking off into the distance, worried. Next to her is written “Fish”.

The second is of Lorrie Adams, a cubby, tan half ecuadorian man with messy long brown hair dyed blue at the end, tied in a bun on his neck. He has dark brown eyes, lots of freckles, round glasses, two ring earrings on one ear, two lip piercings, a choker, and dark blue lipstick on their upper lip. Its wearing a sweater with red, warm orange, yellow, and gray stripes, and a white button up shirt underneath it. Its looking boredly off to the side, and next to it is written “Lorrie”.

The last if of Bailey Emerson, an afro-thai person with brown skin and dark brown hair tied back in a poofy ponytail. They have facial hair, freckled crowded on the bridge of their nose, square glasses, an eyebrow slit, and dangly earring with purple pom moms on the ends of them. Sol is wearing a red-ish gray turtleneck, and a bright pink tank top over it. the straps of the tank top have the lesbian flag on them. Sol is also wearing a cream colored circular pin that reads “they/them”. They are looking into the distance with a slightly nervous smile, sols teeth showing. next to them is written “Bailey”.

end ID]

she/they for Fish, he/it/they for Lorrie, they/sol for Bailey

[antecedentlypod]

EPISODE 4 TRANSCRIPT

[OPENING MUSIC]

LORRIE

Fish is here today; gonna sit in while I read to make sure I’m like... drinking water and stuff? [a bit distantly] Say hi to the mic!

[FISH LAUGHS]

FISH

Huh? Oh--uh, hi! Um, I’m just kinda here to listen--if I’m paying attention. I’m probably going to be on my phone for most of it. But, um, if I do, I will provide some glowing commentary.

LORRIE

Ah yes, the noises of disgust and fear will be a lovely addition to the audiobook.

FISH

Well I mean, they’re, like, fairy tales, right? So, hopefully, there won’t be too much disgust if yo--Well okay I guess some of them are, like, pretty dark. But,[Lorrie snorts in the background] um, if I do have any gripes with it, it will provide a much-needed change of pace from whatever monotony this usually is.

LORRIE

Okay, well, rude, for one. And for two-- take one of “The Devil's Sooty Brother”, read by Lorrie Adams.

[SCENE CUT FOLLOWED BY FISH LAUGHING]

LORRIE (CONT)

[fond annoyance] Shut the fuck up. Shut up! Stop laughing!

FISH

[still laughing] I’m sorry, I’m sorry! It’s just--We’re on the fourth take and you keep messing up the same two words! I’m getting kinda concerned for you.

LORRIE

[splutters] Clearly you don’t appreciate that I’m dyslexic! It’s a--it’s a process! 

FISH

Right, okay, sorry.

LORRIE

Take three of-- 

[SCENE CUT]

FISH

Mhm.

LORRIE

Fuck it--last take for the night. [Fish laughs] No--no! You stop that! You’re not helping with this process! Is there a specific reason you had to say that the devil’s brother was actually slutty and not sooty?

FISH

Well yeah because it sounded like you said “the devil’s slutty brother” which is like--objectively hilarious? And much better; so I think, legally, they need to change it.

LORRIE

[through giggles] Y'know what? Fuck it! This story is now called “The Devil’s Slutty Brother”. Literally everything else is the same, save for that one word.

FISH

UH, well how, uh, how much is the publishing company going to enjoy that? Are these for kids?

[LORRIE CUTS HER OFF WITH A GROAN]

LORRIE

I don’t, I don’t fucking know! But-- [sound of annoyance]. Take twelve of “The Devil’s Slutty Brother”, read by Lorrie Adams.

FISH

[through a laugh] Hey kids! [Lorrie begins to laugh] This is “The Devil’s Slutty Brother” Hope you like--hope you like it! Uh, fucking, Billie.

[LORRIE SHUSHES HER]

LORRIE

A discharged soldier—

FISH

[Cutting Lorrie off] After this we can throw the pigskin around!

LORRIE

Shut up!

FISH

Sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Okay, okay, go.

LORRIE (STORY)

A discharged soldier had nothing to live on and no longer knew what to do with his life.-

FISH

[in the background] Kin.

LORRIE (STORY)

-so he went out into the forest and after walking for a while, he met a little man who was actually the devil himself.

FISH

Most little men that I meet are actually the devil.

LORRIE

[through giggles] Not Danny DeVito!

FISH

Oh--I love Danny DeVito!

LORRIE (STORY)

I—[splutters]. “What’s the matter?” The little man said to him, “You look so gloomy.” “I’m hungry and have no money,” said the soldier. If you’re ho- 

FISH

I really do kin this man. This man is me. This--This is a story about me. I am the devil’s slutty brother.

[BOTH LAUGH]

LORRIE (STORY)

[groans, but is amused] If you hire-

FISH

Maybe the real slutty brother was the friends we made along the way!

[BOTH LAUGH AGAIN]

LORRIE

Let me read the story! I’ve gotten like two paragraphs in!

FISH

I’m sorry, I’m sorry! But my commentary is just that good! I’m enhancing the experience! Whoever you send this to I am so sorry, get well soon.

LORRIE (STORY)

“If you hire yourself out to me and will be my servant,” The devil said, “You’ll have enough for the rest of your life but you’ve got to serve me for seven years, and after that, you will be free. There is just one other thing I’ve got to tell you. You’re not allowed to wash yourself, comb your hair, trim your beard, cut your nails or hair, or wipe your eyes”

LORRIE

That’s kinda gross.

FISH

Wha--wipe your eye--isn’t that when you get those fuckin little like crusty thi--oh no! How many, how many--seven years?

LORRIE

Seven years.-

FISH

Ew.

LORRIE

-In hell. Not even allowed to wipe the fuckin eye boogies out of his eyes.

FISH

I don’t that at-oh, ew--I don’t like that you call them eye boogies. Take that back right now. [lorrie laughs] Never speak to me again!

LORRIE (STORY)

“If that’s the way it must be then lets get on with it.” The soldier said and he went away with the little man, who led him straight to hell and told him what his chores were. He was to tend to the fires under the kettles in which the damned souls were sitting, sweep the house clean and carry the first out the door, and keep everything in order. However, he was never to peek into the kettles or things would go badly for him.

“I understand,” said the soldier. “I’ll take good care of everything.” So the old devil set out on his travels and the soldier began his duty. He put fuel in the fire, swept and carried the dirt out the door, and did everything just as he was ordered. When the old devil returned, he checked to see if everything had been done according to his instruction, nodded his approval, and went off again.

Now, for the first time, the soldier took a good look around hell. There were kettles all about and they were boiling and bubbling with tremendous fires underneath each one of them. He woul—

FISH

Can I make an educated guess; a prediction if you will. A hypothesis.

LORRIE

Go--go for it

FISH

He’s definitely gonna look in those pots. Is he gonna drink them? I don’t know what's in there but I hope he takes a--

LORRIE

[overlapping] I hope not! That sounds nasty!

FISH

Hope he takes a good long sip of whateher the fuck is in there [lorrie laughs quietlty] Maybe it’s like, um... I don’t think we’re allowed to mention Disney properties, nevermind [they laugh]

[LORRIE GROANS]

FISH (CONT)

I don’t wanna get sued.

LORRIE

Me neither!

LORRIE (STORY)

He would have given his life to know what was in them if the devil had not strictly forbidden it. Finally, he could no longer restrain himself; he lifted the lid of the first kettle a little and looked inside only to see his old sergeant-

[FISH GASPS]

FISH

[overlapping] I’m a genius!

LORRIE (STORY)

[are you done yet?] -sitting there.

LORRIE

It was— it was an obvious—

FISH

[overlapping] wait, what's sitting there?

LORRIE

-set up. It was an obvious set up.

FISH

yeah , yeah but--okay, shut up. I’m, no, I’m just smart. No, oh my god I’m like the children-

LORRIE

[overlapping] Okay, yes you’re a genius.

FISH

I’m like the children on Dora.

[LORRIE LAUGHS AND SHUSHES FISH]

LORRIE (STORY)

[triumphant] “Aha, you crumb!”

[FISH LAUGHS IN THE BACKGROUND]

LORRIE

[appalled] Wh-what the fuck does that mean?

FISH

[just as appalled] you what?? Wait, okay--what was in the pot?

LORRIE

Um, his old sergeant was sitting in the pot.

FISH

Oh, right, he’s a--he’s a soldier

LORRIE

He’s a soldier.

FISH

Okay th—

LORRIE (STORY)

[overlapping] Aha yo—

FISH

Is that an insult?

LORRIE

I... assume so? Given the context.

FISH

[overlapping] Wait, okay, hold up. Gimme a second I’m gonna look it up. You can keep reading. I'm just gonna interrupt and tell you what that means.

LORRIE (STORY)

“Aha, you crumb!” He said. “Fancy meeting you here. You used to step on me, but now I’ve got you under my foot.” He let the lid drop quickly, stirred the fire, and added fresh wood. After that, he moved to the second kettle, lifted the lid a little and peeked inside. There sat his lieutenant. “Aha you crumb!”

LORRIE

Why does he keep saying this?

FISH

Okay, ummmm, [lorrie hms] Apparently it means ‘a worthless person’

LORRIE

Oh.

FISH

Ouch.

LORRIE

Nasty.

FISH

Damn. He went for the throat on that one.

LORRIE (STORY)

[overlapping] “Aha you crumb times two!” He said, “Fancy meeting you here. You used to step on me but now I’ve got you under my foot.” He shut the lid again and added a little more log to the fire to make it really good and hot for him.

Now he wanted to see who was sitting in the third kettle, and it turned out to be his General.

LORRIE

Did these people just not treat him well? Jesus fuck.

FISH

[contemplative] I mean... I gue--well. [Lorrie snorts] Do you think that all sol--okay nevermind this isn’t gonna be a conversation we’re gonna have right now!

LORRIE

No, no, not right now.

FISH

I was like, that’s gonna get really dark. [she laughs]

LORRIE

Mmh, no!

LORRIE (STORY)

“Aha you crumb, times three! Fancy meeting you here, You used to step on me--step on me, but now I’ve got you under my foot.” He got out of bellows and pumped it until the fires of hell was blazing hot under him.

And so it was that he served out his seven years in hell. He never washed, comped himself, trimmed his beard, cut his nails or wiped his eyes. The seven years passed so quickly that he was convinced that only six months had gone by. When his time was completely up, the devil said; “Well Hans, what have you been doing all this time?”

“I’ve tended the fires under the kettles, and I’ve swept and carried the dirt out the door.”

“But you also peeked into the kettles. Well, you’re just lucky you added more wood into the fire because otherwise you would have forgot--forfeited your life.

LORRIE

Wow.

FISH

Oh, woah there.

LORRIE (STORY)

“Now, your time is up. Do you want to go back home?”

“Yes,” said the soldier, “I’d like to see how my father’s doing at home.”

“Alright, if you want your pro— [background noise]

LORRIE

[bewildered] Hello??

LORRIE (STORY)

“Alright, if you want to get your proper reward, you must go and fill your knapsack with the dirt you swept up and take it home with you; and you must also go unwashed and uncombed with long hair on your head and a long beard with uncut nails and with bleary eyes. And if anyone asks you where you’re coming from, you’ve got to say from hell. And if anyone asks—

FISH

[overlapping] He’s gotta smell like shit and look like Merlin.

LORRIE

Probably, after seven years? Like--fuck.

FISH

[overlapping] Yeah. [much quieter] Ew.

LORRIE (STORY)

“And if anyone asks where you’re coming from you’ve got to say from hell. And if anyone asks who you are, say ‘I am the devil’s slutty brother and my king is well.’ 

[FISH LAUGHS IN THE BACKGROUND, LORRIE LAUGHS SLIGHTLY AS HE CONTINUES]

LORRIE (STORY, CONT)

The soldier said nothing. Indeed, he carried out the devil’s instructions but he was not at all satisfied with the reward. As soon as he was out in the forest again, he took the knapsack and wanted to shake it out, but when he opened it he discovered that the dirt had turned into pure gold.

“Never in my life would I have imagined that,” said the soldier, who was delighted and went into the city. An in keeper wa—

FISH

[overlapping] wasn’t it like, um, [Lorrie hmms] to make--to make diamonds, don’t they compress like... some kinda rock or some shit?

LORRIE

I think it’s coal. I think they compress co--that might not be right.

FISH

So like... same dif, but with dirt an--nevermind, that's not how that works.

LORRIE

[decisively] Okay.

LORRIE (STORY)

An innkeeper was standing in front of his inn as Hans approached, and when he caught sight of Hans, the innkeeper was terrified because the soldier looked so dreadful, even more frightening than a scarecrow.

LORRIE

Scarecrows aren’t scary.

FISH

[in the background] I like scarecrows!

LORRIE

It’s not hard to be scarier than a scarecrow.

FISH

They’re friend shaped!

LORRIE

They are friend shaped--

FISH

[overlapping] I wanna give 'em a lil smooch.

LORRIE

[overlapping]--I agree.

LORRIE (STORY He called out to him and asked; “where are you coming from?”

“From hell!

“Who are you?”

“The devil’s slutty brother, and my king is well.” [Fish laughs] The innkeep did not want to let him inside, but when Hans showed him the gold he went and unlatched the door himself. Then hans ordered his—the best room and insisted on the finest service. He ate and drank his fill— 

FISH

[chanting] I hate capitalists, I hate capitalists, I hate capitalists, I hate capitalists—

LORRIE

[amused] I—I know, I know. I know. I do too, it’s fine.

FISH

Consume the rich! Vore the rich!

LORRIE (STORY)

He ate and drank his fill, but did not wash or comb himself as the devil had instructed. Finally, he lay down to sleep but the innkeeper could not get the knapsack of gold out of his mind. Just the thought of it left him no peace. So, he crept into the room during the night and stole it. So when Hans got up—

FISH (BACKGROUND)

What a dick move.

LORRIE (STORY)

the next morning and went to pay the innkeeper before leaving, his knapsack was gone! [Lorrie and Fish both gasp loudly] However, he wasted no words and thought ‘it’s not your fault that this happened’, and he turned straight around and went straight back to hell, where he complained about his misfortune to the devil and asked for help.

“Sit down,” Said the devil, “I’m going to wash and comb you, trim your beard, cut your hair and nails and wash out your eyes.”

FISH

I was gonna say, really bold of him to complain about misfortune to Lucifer, but… [Lorrie begins to laugh in the background] He’s kinda a chill guy! It seems like he’s just vibin!

LORRIE

[overlapping] Uh, yeah he seems kinda cool!

FISH

He’s like “yeah, yeah I’ll give you money if you just, like, do some chores.” He’s basically my mom! [Lorrie snorts] And then he just gives him a little bath! Maybe they’re in love.

LORRIE

Yeah!

FISH

Oh—wait, no, they’re brothers. Is that incest? I mean I know they’re not like actually related but he calls himself his brother so question mark?

LORRIE

Okay, okay, we’re not going down this road. 

FISH

[through giggles] I’m sorry!

LORRIE (STORY)

When he was finished with the soldier he gave him a knapsack full of dirt and said ; “Go there and tell the innkeeper to give you back your gold, otherwise I will come and fetch him, and he’ll have to tend the fires in your place.”

Hans went back up and said to the innkeeper “You stole my money, and if you don’t give it back you’ll go to hell in my place and look just as awful as I did.” The innkeeper gave him back the money and even more besides, then he begged him to be quiet about what had happened. 

Now Hans was a rich man and set out on his way home, he bought himself a pair of rough linen overalls and wandered here and there playing music, for he had learned that from the Devil in hell. 

LORRIE

Dude—Lucifer is just fucking vibing.

FISH

Yeah I’m really—I would maybe sign up to have- to be the devil's servant. He could give me some money and teach me how to play the fiddle, then I could go compete with a man in Georgia… [Lorrie snorts] And, I mean, all I would really have to deal with is looking like shit for a little bit but I already don’t take showers so it's fine!

LORRIE

We get it, you’re depressed. 

FISH

[Through giggles] Shut up! Shut up!!

LORRIE (STORY)

Once he happened to play for an old king in a certain country and the king was so pleased that he promised Hans his oldest daughter’s hand in marriage. However, When he he—when she heard that she was supposed to marry a commoner in white overalls, she said “I’ll go drown myself in the deepest lake before I do that.” So the king gave Hans—

FISH

[overlapping] Nevermind, I kin this woman.

LORRIE (STORY)

[slowly and deliberately] His youngest daughter [A short pause followed by laughter] Who was willing to marry him out of love for her father.

FISH

[overlapping] Me too. I would rather drown myself than marry a man! Me too, queen!

[LORRIE AND FISH BOTH LAUGH]

LORRIE

Y’know what? That’s completely fair.

FISH

Yeah!

LORRIE (STORY)

So the devil’s slutty brother got the king's daughter, and when the old king died, he got the whole kingdom as well. [book page turns] 

LORRIE

And that’s… the end of that.

FISH

That's the end? 

LORRIE

That’s the—I guess he got a happy ending. Good for him.

FISH

I was expecting that to end in some kind of, like, horrifically karmic… I don’t know what the next word in that sentence was gonna be, but it was gonna be something. Um—

LORRIE

[overlapping] Retribution? 

FISH

Retribution! There’s the word, thank you. 

LORRIE

Yeah, of course.

FISH

Um, but—yeah! Honestly the devil just seems like a chill guy, I’m kinda down with him. Maybe he deserves rights. Also, since the beginning of this, like our commentary at the start of it I have been imagining him as Danny DeVito. So, [Lorrie laughs] I think that impacted how much I liked him.

LORRIE

Lucifer is now Danny DeVito. But, I am going to have to re-record this properly again later! But, y’know, this was really fun, I… I wanna do this more.

FISH

Awe! Sap.

LORRIE

[splutters] Sh-Shut up! I do need to read one more story today, so shoo Fishy! I need a proper recording space to get into the zone for it.

FISH

[playful mocking] oooohh… the zone.

LORRIE

[long-suffering sigh] sush! 

FISH

Fucking lame, you’re such a dork. Okay, um, I mean I was having a good time.

LORRIE

Shoo, shoo, be gone, thot. 

[FISH SCOFFS]

FISH

I’m not the devil’s brother. [Lorrie snorts] Okay, um, I will see you later, have fun.

LORRIE

Love you, bye.

FISH

Yeah, whatever.

LORRIE

[more tired sounding than before] Alright, [he clears his throat] This next story is [pages turning] where the fuck is it? [more page turning] A Tale of Parch and Flesh, take one-

[SCENE CUT]

Take six, A Tale of Parch and Flesh-

LORRIE (STORY)

Once upon a time, in a world of dust and nothing, there was war. Where once there had been great kingdoms, stood tall and proud with their many flags and castles, you will find  a wasteland should you be unlucky enough to stumble upon it. It is all unforgiving heat and torrential downpours of dirt and waste, spurred on by humid wind. In this nuclear nation of ours, where we few left, are worth nothing more than the roaches that flood the streets. In the distance, rusted trumpets can be heard going through the notes of a tired battle cry, footsteps to the beat of angry drums and a choir of shots and shouts for as long as they stay distant anyway.

There are bodies strewn across this desert floor, almost fit to cover the sand completely. Those who brave going outside to step around, and between the stiffs on tiptoes, perhaps for fear that one might reach out and grab them. Or that they might join that carpet of corpses and rot. But folks like us? We stay inside, we fiddle with the buttons on the radio, sorting through static for the couple of stations left. One plays music we are too young to recognize, and the other queues up to our king. He is old, and greying, and tired; in a tower that hardly stands, and he is speaking into a busted microphone.

“It’s alright,” He tells us, “There is nothing to worry about.” 

He says that war is just a word the enemy has invented to threaten us, that our kingdom will, of course, prevail. That he has sent his army out to protect us, that they are fighting nobly for a just cause. Those who would have known that cause by name died out long before you and I. There is no justice here. There is nothing but gore and the endless marching of mindless flesh. The dust fills our lungs, but can not state our stomachs, so we feed on roach and rodent, and each other as I’ve heard on occasion. Mothers pat their weeping children’s heads, hushing them through the thunder of bombs and anguished screams.

“It’s alright,” they say, “There is nothing to worry about.”

What a curse, I think, to bring a child into a place like this. One where they will know nothing but a desolate world full of desperate people. Now picture with me, reader, that you are on the front lines; you can feel the sun baking you through, can nearly feel your blood boiling beneath it. This is not what you signed up for. Your uniform is heavy and hot, and you can not tell if what cakes your face is paint, dirt, or the blood of the men you’ve gunned down. Your eyes are just as heavy, if not more, for you have not met sleep. You crawl, and you hide, and you cower. And you stay so quiet you sometimes forget to breathe, because maybe if you make yourself silent—make yourself small enough—you will simply cease to be. You are granted no such mercy.

When it is not hot, it is colder than anything, and you feel it in the core of you. From your weary feet to the unkempt hair under your helmet, you look around for solidarity from the soldiers at your side, but they stare ahead and do not blink and say nothing, like memorial statues in the making. You can’t recall if you’ve ever heard anything from them but cries to move, move, move. In fact, you can’t even remember their names, but you suppose you’ll read them on the plaques

You stare at the fox hole massive route and rock in front of you and watch the growing hive of bugs in and in and in, and not come back out. Your leader parrots the words of your king; you are fighting a just cause, you are doing what needs to be done. There are people to defend and a nation to make a name for. Those who stare down the barrel of your gun are not men, but beasts who must be tamed or put down. But you looked him in the eye when you shot, and he looked just like you. So,” I’m sorry,” you say, but only one of you can make it out of this place and you’ve been here too long for it to not be you. 

And that's what you don’t know; that there is no out. There is hardly a before, and there will not be an after. All your feet know is how to step into line, your helmet has become a shell, whatever is packed on your face has dug its way into your pores beneath your skin and has made a home there. The medals and pins on your chest seem to pierce straight through your skin, and the dirt and dust in your lungs belongs there just as much as your blood and bone. Have your ears ever known not to ring? Have you ever spoken and felt your throat not to be hoarse? Are you any less a beast than those which you end? 

But you are not on the front lines, are you? No. And you are nut huddled with me behind a rusted door, or letting your shaking mother smother your fries with false reassurances. You are safe in bed, perhaps driving to work, sitting at your desk finishing your dinner.  But you have been brought into a desolate world full of desperate people, and it is not alright. 

The end.

LORRIE

[struggling to find the right words] That was… unsettling. These stories just seem to get more and more and more unsettling as time goes on! Not to mention the headaches I’ve been getting while reading them. Like—what kind of story would be giving you a migraine! They’re all different stories, y’know, so it’s just a matter of—I dunno. Maybe my eyes are just getting tired or something. Maybe I’m getting sick too. Fish and I have both been feeling under the weather.

But… I think I should invest in some reading glasses. End recording.

[CLOSING MUSIC]

[novis-musica]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27155221

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

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