The following show contains mature themes and language that may not be appropriate for all
audiences. Please keep in mind that this contest intended for mature audiences only,
and listener discretion is advised. Just hold on, it's called Are you sure?
Yeah, we need to do this as vertical. They're not. They're
not gonna like it. Well we haven't gotten much, have we. Well
they're not gonna like it. It doesn't matter if they're going to like it
or not. We had to do it. Okay, just do it.
Hello, just still ringing? Did you dial the right number? Yeah,
dialed the correct extension. The extension. Please don't mess with it, Please
don't mess with it. Just hello, sorry, sir. Yeah, this
is Agent D. Wilson, an agent T. Wilson, and I'm here
where the agent T. Wilson. You're both Wilson, Yes, Wilson,
no relation. We both are Will Weird are the Wilsons. It is a
common last name names door. You are named Will Thomas. His name is
Thomas Thomas. Thomas Wilson wanted to first name Thomas. That's fine, I'm
not why the did you call me? I want to be I want to
be t Wilson. Why it doesn't matter. I'm sorry. Why the fuck
did you call me, sir? We are just can for a status update,
a status? Yeah? What is it? What happened? Not much?
Really? No, so you called me to say you won't answer any
of my fucking questions. She just starts babbling on and on any substance to
it. Yeah, I mean there is some stuff and write that down.
Well yeah, no, what do you mean? No, just write it
the fuck down. There's going to be some stuff that we can use and
some stuff that would just discard. And you know that's how you build a
story. That's that's just how it goes. Now, get a fucking done,
Wilson's both of U, T and D and wherever the fun of the
letters come up in there, And don't call me unless I find out how
the fuck did she survive? Have paused apocalyptic destruction of massive proportions? How
does she disabled the bomb? All lead those two things mattered to me.
Everything else is fucking bullshit. Well there you have it. I'll be your
fucking habit. Shut the fuck up, Thomas, get back to it.
Fucking shit. The sun began to peek over the horizon, casting its warm
glow on the outskirts of Joeyspelle, North Carolina. That is where our story
begins, on the edge of the small town Suda classic diner, a relic
of old school charm and new nostalgia. It was early morning, around five
AM, and the aroma secline, bacon and freshly brewed coffee hadn't filled the
air just yet. A diner, a humble establishment, greeted his visitors with
a no refills layout that excluded a sense of familiarity. Two tables adorned the
stage, one commanding the center with the air of importance, while the other
nestled itself confidently downstage left. But it was the bar, proudly station of
the heart and the scene that served as both physical and symbolic divide, separating
the soon to be bustling kitchen situated on the right side of the stage.
In this unassuming eatery, locals blocked for their daily fix of coffee and sought
of the solace of the camaraderie, finding comfort in the warm embrace of a
familiar face that populated its welcoming atmosphere. As the day started to unravel,
I made my way into the diner through the back entrance with the whole ensemble.
Me, Missy, a middle aged woman okay, with a face that
has seen a fair share of hard work and long hours. Trust me,
my eyes are sharp and observant, and my movements are precise. I don't
miss around, y'all. Running this place takes a known nonsense attitude, and
that's exactly what I bring to the table, both as a seasoned waitress and
you know, a manager dreiling behind me was We're Sanby and Luna are two
star waitresses who the regulars know very well. Sunby, in her late twenties,
has a smile that can light up an entire room. Her long flowing
hair add to her friendly and approachable dive. Then there is Luna, a
bit older and exuding of confidence with every step. Her short hair is always
perfectly styled with colors, I might add, and her sharp eyes catch everything
as she attends to the customers. She's practically perfect. Both of them have
built a report with our diners, created a welcoming atmosphere that keeps folks honestly
coming back every time. Our cook, a ragged individual in his late forties,
sauntered in shortly after you could tell they seeing their fair share of kitchen
chaos. With a sturdy build and hens roughened from the many years of culinary
conquests. Dressed in a chef's coat, you know you gotta be ready for
the bart. The word is food stains like badges of honor. In spite
of me asking him to buy a new one, or we all pull them
together to buy him a new one, and he still chooses to wear this
one because he accidentally misplaced a new one. They exude an aura of culinary
mastery. Man's a genius, and the genius does what a genius does.
The rise sparkle with the fiery of the art of cooking, every move in
the kitchen a testament to their skills and creativity, known for whipping up dishes
that left taste but tingling and the bellies craving for more. This man,
this cook, was a legend in their own right. And last, but
not vista was Dylan, my nephew, niece them of the supple age of
seventeen. They had a lot on their plate, the whole nine yards.
You know, we talked about it. Their entrance into the diner was a
bit unsteady, though hinting at a weight of some illness. With a pale
complexion and tired eyes. You could see the toll of taken. But despite
it all, there was a flicker of determination in their gaze. Stubborn resolved
to work. The part of the team. Dylan was a puzzle. Their
presence and the diner steering up curiosity and concern. Amanda Staff, but be
carried on. You know, we've all had a long night before and still
showed up to work together. This motley crue formed the heart and soul of
the Diner, each bring in their own flare and experiences to the table,
creating an atmosphere the bust with energy and a warmth. And I missed him.
This episode is made possible by listeners like you. Visit our website at
lifdesign dot net, Forward slash excuse Us. For support or additional information,
please visit our website or Patreon page at paytreon dot com. Forward slash rod
Bull Art Tonight's production of Excuse Us, a mystery drama with delightful undertones of
humor and Eldridge horror, produced by Rebecca Lakepool and Rodrigo Pool, Written and
directed and performed by Rodrigo Pool in association with R and R Side Audio,
Theater, music and sound effects by Epidemic Sound some other sound effects who are
recorded live on set voice modulation by eleven Laps. If you're enjoying this production,
please make sure to review or subscribe to our show wherever you listen to
your podcast, check out our Patreon page for bonus content. Until next time,
this is Rodrigo Pool saying thank you very much for listening. Fuck this shit