Speaker 1: Propesson's Studios presents Hitch, a collection of unusual stories. The
feeling of fall makes me feel so free. I can
wear a hoodie, drink some coffee and hang out all day.
Outside bills need to be paid, unfortunately, so duty calls
time to pick up some riders. I also have some
guests coming on to my podcast, and for that to happen,
I need to run out space, and that costs money.
I've narrowed it down to the local library. The high
end space in town only accepts NFTs. That seems so
scammy to me. I hear everyone talking about NFTs, but
I never actually see anyone with them. You know it's
phony when everything you see in the YouTube comments are
inbox me for my WhatsApp one three one six five
hundred desh two three four zero if you want insight
on bitcoin or thanks an expert. Laura Vanda Sloop. I've
made sixteen four hundred dollars and eighteen working days. I
invested in it all in crypto, and the comments threat
keeps going as if everyone is in on it. It's
no wonder. Laura Vanda Sloot really knows what she's doing
and investing crypto for the Apocalypto. You don't fool me.
Bots No wonder that rental space is called hidden spaces.
I'd probably rent it and never find it. Then I'd
end up interviewing my guest at a panera. It's that time,
my first rider of the day in Oscar Jansen starting
off at the trailer park.
Speaker 2: Huh okay, that's going there, a little feller.
Speaker 3: Take me to the strip club.
Speaker 1: Strip club? We have a strip club. I don't believe
we have a strip club in town.
Speaker 2: My fault got a little too excited there, three one
three till a Mondo drive.
Speaker 3: It's my buddy's bachelor party.
Speaker 1: You already sent me the address on the app, Buddy, Yes.
Speaker 2: Sir, Yeah, I'm really excited about my Buddi's party.
Speaker 3: Hey, uh, do you like meat sausage?
Speaker 1: Meat sausage? What in the actual hell is meat sausage?
Speaker 3: Yeah? Eat sausage.
Speaker 1: What do you mean by meat sausage?
Speaker 3: You ain't never heard of meat sausage before?
Speaker 1: What in the mystery hot dog is this Oscar guy
talking about? Doesn't sausage imply meat? I mean, I'm sure
there's vegan sausage out there, But if you go up
to someone on the street right now and ask if
they like sausage. It's a safe bet that they're thinking
about sausage made out of meat.
Speaker 4: Yeah.
Speaker 1: You can specify different types of sausages, such as chicken
sausage or turkey sausage, but nobody calls it pork sausage.
They just call it sausage. So why in the world
would this guy call it meat sausage. Nope, can't say
that I have.
Speaker 3: You've got to try, my man.
Speaker 1: It is to die for sounds interesting.
Speaker 3: Actually make meat sausage.
Speaker 1: I'm sure you do.
Speaker 3: Just appear to the lift, Dude.
Speaker 1: I clearly have the GPS.
Speaker 2: I'm a dash by the way, pal. Never trust a
man who makes meat sausage. You never know what kind
of meets in.
Speaker 1: There waiting that actual Hey, what the hell are you doing?
Speaker 3: Never trust a man who makes meat sausage. Never trust
a man who makes meat sausage. Never trust a man
who makes meat sausage. Never trust a man who makes
me sausage.
Speaker 4: Trust a man who makes me sausage.
Speaker 3: Never trust a man who makes meat sausage.
Speaker 1: You have threaten I'm using physical force to escort you
out of my vehicle.
Speaker 4: Your tread ends.
Speaker 2: Here goodbye meat puppet.
Speaker 1: Ah another writer today is pretty busy. Strange but busy.
I can't complain though. Business is money and I'm in
the business of safe transportation point A to point B.
Whatever you do before or after is none of my
damn business. It's tough because sometimes it becomes my business.
But other people's problems are not my problems. That's tough
to process as the pisces. Alright, enough about the zodiac. Okay,
guy looked both ways before getting in. All right, some
sneaky stuff going on. Go okay, whatever, man, you're paying me.
That sneaky stuff, though not cool.
Speaker 5: You listen to that new Kanye album yet.
Speaker 1: Kind of Kanye has never really been my bag, but
I gave a few songs a chance and skipped through
the album.
Speaker 5: Yeah, it wasn't really my thing either.
Speaker 1: I just never understood Kanye. Don't get me wrong. He
inspired Kendrick J. Cole Logic, which directly inspired me to
rap you. I can't call myself a rapper, but I
have studied them guys, learned the lyrics, and I also
enjoy freestyle. Not the best, but it's fun for me.
Speaker 5: That's dope, man.
Speaker 1: Okay, this guy's kind of cool. You know what's not
cool a car that has been following us for five minutes.
You probably made twelve turns and it's totally tailing us. Yeah,
it's fun. Well, there's nothing I can do.
Speaker 5: I suppose that might be my wife. Your wife, Yeah,
it happens. Hey babe, don't you?
Speaker 6: Hey, babe me.
Speaker 5: What do you want me to do?
Speaker 7: Then?
Speaker 3: How about not go to the casino.
Speaker 5: It's just the casino. What's the big deal.
Speaker 3: You're wasting our money is the big deal.
Speaker 5: We're not rich, fenn, I'm spending extra money that I
earn as a bonus. I'm allowed to have a little fun.
Speaker 8: Yeah, a little fun.
Speaker 5: Well, I'm home all alone. It's not my fault. You
don't know how to live your own life.
Speaker 1: It is now. You married me.
Speaker 5: Svenn I told you what I do for fun before
we got married. You signed up for.
Speaker 6: This, Okay. I just thought maybe you'd care about saving
for our future.
Speaker 5: No, that's not what this is about. You're gaslighting me.
Just because you can't be alone in your head doesn't
mean I can have a little fun.
Speaker 6: You do nothing around the house. I have to do everything.
Why can't you be a.
Speaker 5: Man, Bye, Laurie, Jesus, don't ever get married.
Speaker 7: Noted you've arrived at your destination.
Speaker 1: Hey, the car is still moving, dude, what the hell
get out of the way.
Speaker 3: N what's your emergency.
Speaker 1: Some lady jumped a curb in the car and pinned
the guy against the wall of the casino, splitting them
in half. I don't think they're alive. Yeah, they're dead,
definitely dead. Is this really worth it? What's the point
is it? Greed is a denial of the South, which
one should decide to be the bigger person. Is being
the bigger person worth it? If you do it your
whole life to make things work? Is it inevitable between
two people? It just seems like in our world. Hey there, creepers,
it's your Edgar filling in for Raven on WRK five.
Speaker 4: What happened to Raven?
Speaker 9: You asked, Well, he had to step out for a
smoke break. Funny thing, I didn't know smoke breaks lasted
five hours.
Speaker 1: After Raven was hanging out with me in the smoke shack,
I came back inside and the.
Speaker 4: Boss said, that guy, you've always been a.
Speaker 9: Star, and now it's your time to shine.
Speaker 4: Thanks so much, boss, I won't let you down AnyWho.
Back to the show. I have some killer content coming
your way, so you better.
Speaker 1: Duck because these stories are gonna.
Speaker 9: Cleave your heads right off. This author has been working
on his chops.
Speaker 1: Are you hungry?
Speaker 9: Listen to these sponge chilling narrators on the Creepy Boss.
Speaker 4: There's a radio hour.
Speaker 7: I've done some bad things in my life. I've burned
bridges Hell, whole cities for that matter. But the thing
that started at all was with Heather. I tried to resist.
I thought I could fight the urge. I wasn't fooling anyone.
I couldn't even fool myself. I was preparing a meal
for two last July. It was for myself and Heather,
who just officially became my girlfriend that month. It was
supposed to be a fling. Turns out we have chemistry.
I was in culinary school and Heather was building a
house from the ground up. She completely gutted that house.
I decided to cook a steak dinner and invited Heather over.
I gave her a call Hello, She answered as I
was peeling potatoes. Hey, babe, I picked up some filet mignon.
Wanna come over? Ah, yeah, her voice sounded delightful. I
smiled cool, see you soon. Then I hung up and
turned on some music. I remember that smile still it
felt warm. This was the first time I cooked for Heather.
I had to really be careful to make sure she
liked me for me and not for my cooking. I've
made that mistake quite a few times. I finished peeling
the potatoes and boiled them. Boiling a potato kills any
living bacteria. This bacteria even alive. I thought to myself.
They don't use their own energy to survive. They would
need a host to survive off of Eh, what's the difference. Anyways,
I mashed the potatoes, buttered and seasoned them through some cheese,
and then twice bake them in the oven. While those
were baking for twenty five minutes, it was go time.
I chopped scallions and had broccoli florets sautain in a walk.
I always liked to drown my broccoli with high end
olive oil, salt, pepper, and garlic. I fried them until
they became slightly blackened. I destroyed all the nutrients, but man,
oh man, and they were delicious. The key was to
finish cooking all the food at once, ten minutes left
on the timer. That was plenty of time. I had
the steaks resting for thirty minutes, already to reach room temperature.
I also seasoned them with salt, pepper, thyme, and garlic.
I threw olive oil and a nub of butter in
the pan. I seared the steak for three and a
half minutes on each side, then let them rest on
our plates. When the steaks finished, I turned off all
the burners on the stove. I wanted to make sure
the steaks were done, so I cut into my steak
to check it. It felt like cutting room temperature butter.
It looked amazing. Something was off though I could see something,
but not very well. The steam was getting in the way.
I blew the steam out of the way and could
see what looked like little antennae. I could see them
slowly wiggle around. Then the antennae began violently moving. Following
the antennae was a slimy head with teeth and bulging
black eyes. Attached to the head was an elongated, scaly body,
a forked tail and clad feet was attached to the
torso it looked like one of those vampire fish that
you hear horror stories about, except this looked like a
mutated version from a sigh By movie. The little creature
plunged out of one side of the cut steak and
buried itself into the other cut of filet mignon. Instinctively,
I grabbed a bowl and slammed it on top of
the stake. Then I grabbed a plate to slide under
the bowl. I hollered while throwing that thing away in
the trash. I couldn't just leave the trash, though. I
was not going to sleep unless that trash was outside.
I opened up the trash drawer. Before I could reach
for the garbage bag, that little parasitic creature jumped out
of the trash and onto my leg. It bit me
several times. When the teeth punctured my skin, it was
like a red hot sewing needle impaling my thigh. When
I went to smack it off me, it burrowed into
my skin, where a chunk of flesh was bitten off.
I saw the end of its tail slip into my skin.
It crawled up inside my leg toward my abdomen. The
parasite aggressively wiggled its way underneath the top layer of
my skin. Not only could I feel it crawling around
my insides, but I could feel it growing. It felt
like a baby trying to claw its way out. I
screamed in agony. My intestines were ruptured and exploded like
a fire hose. After it had its fill in my abdomen,
it wrapped itself around my heart. I could feel my
heart slow. My heart felt as if it was in
someone's hands, but their hands squeeze so hard that it
turned my heart into Plato. Have you ever seen the
Plato spaghetti maker? That is what my heart felt like
it was doing. I fell to my knees and started
pounding my chest like a silver backed gorilla. After a
few gurgled screams, followed by pools of sweat, everything suddenly stopped.
No signs of movement or pain from the parasite. I
think it was done. Maybe it had run its course.
I cut up from my hands and knees and wiped
the beaded sweat mixed with tears off of my face.
I collapsed on to the ground into a fetal position.
I trembled into a state of shock. Everything felt freezing.
My jaw and fists clenched. I could feel my teeth
chatter while my head bounced off of the ground. It
sounded like the smacks you hear when a tether ball
winds its way around a pole. I remembered thinking that
I was going to die. I don't think I died, though,
but also I don't think I was alive either. I
pushed myself up off the ground. The sensation and my
limbs weren't there. I couldn't feel my fingers, arms, lips,
or eyelids. I couldn't feel anything. The weird thing was
my body was moving, but I wasn't the one in control.
I felt so hungry, like I haven't eaten for days.
I walked over to the stake and sniffed it. My
face cringed. It smelt disgusting. I started to gag over
the scent. That is when I heard a knock at
the door and the handle turned. It was heather. I
felt crippling stomach pains that repeatedly stabbed to me. It
was unbearable, irresistible, then almost pleasurable. Actually, it started feeling welcomed.
It was not a feeling I've ever felt before. I
started to feel joy, like a dog overly prepared for
its owner to throw a ball. That's when I could
smell her heart beat. I could smell the blood pumping
through its ventricles. I could smell the gamy meat that
her heart was made out of. I wanted to taste it.
I craved it more than anything I wanted in my
entire life. I never knew such a sensation existed. Heather
smiled and walked closer. Hey honey, Her voice gave off
sense of her healthy, beating heart. I could feel my
face smile back at her, but it was involuntary. Hey honey,
I mimicked back. You don't look so good, are you okay?
She rested the back of her hand on my forehead.
You're burning up. You don't look so good, are you okay?
I mirrored her tone. I could feel myself still smiling.
She didn't know how to respond. She knew something was wrong,
but didn't know what. She started to back away, but
I followed her as she moved, still smiling. Heather wasn't
smiling at all. She started to feel terror, and that
is when I could smell the scent of her adrenal glance.
I couldn't resist the scent of the meat on her heart,
adrenaline and veins were all too much for me, and
that is when I lunged at her. I wanted to cry,
I wanted to break down, but I couldn't. I couldn't
wipe the smile off my face. I felt replenished, revitalized.
I wasn't in control, but I don't think I minded.
Is it okay to feel fulfilled and guilty at the
same time, I thought to myself, And that is when
it all clicked together. Yes, I said, I felt myself
smile and that it's when it was finally okay.
Speaker 9: That story made me a teensea ween sea bit hungry,
so I decided to go out back to the smoke.
Speaker 10: Shack to have a tasty snack. This is your soul, heye, boss,
you back there? Yeah he is because I put him
under there underwear.
Speaker 4: Get it. Get it enough about me.
Speaker 1: This is about you creepers out there.
Speaker 4: It's past a time.
Speaker 5: The last time I saw Charlie was with a coworker
of mine named Franco. I worked next to Franco every
day for eight years. He was a really big dude.
He wasn't always like that, though. When I first met him.
He was a scrawny people pleaser. He ended up turning
his weakness into his strength. He started hitting the gym
three times a week. After about a year, you couldn't
bribe him out of the gym unless it was for work.
It was about that time when Franco randomly showed up
with a puppet one day at work. Imagine a grown
man showing up to a factory with a puppet on
his hand. Strange, right. I asked Franco, why on earth
bring a puppet to a factory? Why even have a
puppet in the first place. He explained that when he
was a kid, his dad randomly passed away. His dad
left him a chest in his will. He finally decided
to open it for the first time in thirty years
after his father's death. Inside that chest was a photo album, trophies,
and this puppet named Charlie. It looked horrendous. Charlie had black,
wiry hair with chunks of it missing, beady black eyes
that stared through you, and a crooked nose. After Franco
looked through the chest, he put Charlie back inside and
closed the lid. Came from inside the chest, then a
voice that said, I'm going to kill you. Franco opened
the chest back up. Charlie turned to him and said,
if you don't put me on, I'm going to kill you.
I had to process everything that Franco said to me.
I didn't know what to think. My gut told me
to run away as fast as possible. Franco looked like
he hadn't slept in a week. He sounded like he
was in psychosis. He had lost touch with all reality.
I mean, he was a grown man afraid for his
life with a puppet on his hand inside a factory.
On the flip side, I didn't want to be on
Franco's blacklist. To play it safe, I decided to be
cordial but keep a safe distance. Franco showed up every
day with that puppet on his hand. Eventually his wife
left him and she took the kids with her. Franco
looked worse every day. I don't think he slept. His
mental state skyrocketed. He was paranoid, delusional, and downright terrifying.
One day Franco didn't show up. I was actually extremely concerned.
Then he was absent next day and the next I
asked some coworkers if they knew why he wasn't showing
up to work. They stared at me with judging demeanors.
They must associate me with Franco. I checked the news
every night for Franco. Nothing ever came up. I kept
my ears open. At work, there was nothing but rumors.
Last night, I was watching the news and I heard
a knock at the door. I opened up and didn't
see anything. Then I looked down at my doorstep and
there lied Charlie. I immediately slammed the door shut in fear.
Then a screeching voice said, I'm gonna kill you.
Speaker 1: Woo.
Speaker 10: Puppets creeped me out. You know what else creeps me out?
That Daddy Finger song? Daddy Finger, Mommy Finger, where.
Speaker 7: Are you here?
Speaker 4: I am here?
Speaker 1: I am?
Speaker 4: How do you do?
Speaker 1: Brother Finger?
Speaker 4: Sister Finger? Where are you?
Speaker 1: Who?
Speaker 4: I am here?
Speaker 1: I am?
Speaker 4: How do you do?
Speaker 1: Baby finger? Baby finger?
Speaker 4: Will are you? With your whole family? On my hands?
Speaker 1: Hunched over with my hands on my knees, gasping for air.
I think I've lost her. It's hard to tell. We
have no lights in our neighborhood except from porch lights,
and I don't have my glasses. I didn't have enough
time to grab them before I escape. My sister, or
what used to be my sister. I've never seen so
much hate before. Her face has never looked like that.
It's like something possessed her, something took over. Have you
ever encountered a dog and you know there's nothing you
can do to calm it down. It's already made up
its mind to charge you. Your only chance is to run.
I know what you're thinking. Why didn't you just fend
off your sister? Why didn't you stop her? I'm a
big brother. I thought about it until she exploded through
her bedroom door. She busted it off the hinges and
started sprinting at me like I was praying. I dodged
her and made a run for the front door. I
need to get a hold of my parents.
Speaker 4: They're about to.
Speaker 1: Be back from their date night any moment now. As
I cautiously make my way back to my house, I
see my parents' truck in the driveway. The headlights are
still on. I walk up and both doors are left open. Mom, Dad,
I called out for them.
Speaker 7: Nothing.
Speaker 1: My heart's pounding out of my chest, hands are clamming,
my breathing is out of control, and start to panic.
What if she got them, What if theyre what she is?
What if this is all just a horrific nightmare. Yeah
that's it, No way is this real. The front door
is cracked open. I don't hear anything inside. Laying low
and sneaking into the doorway, I turned to the right
and grabbed my glasses from the nightstand, except they weren't there.
They hear a loud thump from the back door, then another.
All of a sudden, I crashed through the door, stomping
and screaming. I scrambled to the bathroom and shut the door.
There lay my glasses on the countersink. I slipped them
on and see a shadow under the door. I hop
in the tub in case she looks under. The door
slams open. I could feel her staring in the bathroom,
but she.
Speaker 7: Kept moving on.
Speaker 1: I could hear her back in my room. I make
an attempt to get out. I need to find my
phone so I can get a hold of my parents
or the police. I made it out unnoticed. I slowly
creep through the living room and I see my parents.
Speaker 7: There.
Speaker 1: They lie lifeless on the ground. Their eyes are open
and their faces are frozen in fright from behind what
sounds like a freight train. My sister tackles me to
the ground and starts gnashing at me. I'm able to
hold her off until my sister was shot to death
right in front of my eyes. My parents must have
called the cops. My sister fell off of me and
was cold but calm. She looks just like her I
don't understand what happened. During her autopsy, she was diagnosed
with lime disease. They talked about this being an epidemic
on the news. The symptoms of late stage lime disease
are arthritis and joints are near the point of infection,
severe headaches or migraines, vertigo, dizziness, migrating pains that come
and go in the joints, attendance, stiff aching, neck, sleep disturbances,
insomnia disturbances and heart rhythm, mental fogginess, concentration issues, numbness
in the arms, legs, hands, or feet, problems following conversations
and processing information, and severe fatigue. After a long, exhausting
few days, I finally get to go to sleep at
a reasonable time. When I open my eyes, I woke
up in a hospital with wires all over me. The
doctor said, I was in a coma for a week,
and in front of me stood my mom, dad, and sister.
I look over to my left on the table in
his ziplocked bag was a tick. There used to be
a guy everyone called the tooth snatcher. He would be
the one that came if bad little boys and girls
lost the tooth. You can always tell when the tooth
Snatcher's coming.
Speaker 4: The tooth fairy, well, she.
Speaker 1: Uses magical pixie dust. She can magically disappear through walls.
Sprinkle pixie dust to give boys and girls transcending dreams.
But just see the tooth snatcher. He can't magically disappear.
He is the exact opposite, He hauntingly stays. He'll scratch
at the window before he opens it. It doesn't matter
if it's locked or not.
Speaker 10: He can force it open, just like he does to
rip a rotting tooth out of your mouth.
Speaker 1: After he's through with you, he looks deep into your
soul and whispers into your ear. He whispers your deepest fears.
You are afraid to faith, You.
Speaker 4: Have a lack of self worth.
Speaker 1: Well, let's see how you react when your parents are
dangling over a fire in the knapsack.
Speaker 4: Oh no, little Freddy, the boding. Can you smile the flash?
You're not going to do anything? Why can't you?
Speaker 1: Oh yeah, because you're a little scared cat. Good night,
Lettle Freddy, see your next tooth.
Speaker 8: My mom and I rode into towns she could enjoy
her weekly treat from the Thompson's bakery. The town gently
laid over green rolling hills. A majestic castle overlooked the
city on a golden hill side. The castle had peaks
that the hills inspired, some bigger, some smaller, and some
offsetting each other like the rolling hills. A harmonious choir
sang in the distance, a marching drum beat accompanied by
soaring horns, a soothing lute, and a fiddle that played
counter melodies. I could smell the bakery as we approached.
It smelled of rising bread and iced cinnamon buns. I
wished I could enjoy a cream cheese danish or a
slice of tomato basil bread with garden butter on top.
But I have this problem. My throat closed any time
I ate bread or my favorite cookies. I remember the
last time I snuck a Snickerdoodle cookie from the market place.
It had a soft gooey center with a crisp outside
layer notes of cinnamon and sugar. It tasted so good
I could have danced till sunset. My face felt pressure.
When I gently touched the right side of my face,
it felt swollen and tight, just from one little cookie.
I was too ashamed to say anything to my mom.
I wanted to tell her, but her knowing I did
something to make myself look foolish is devastating. It was
my fault. I stole that cookie, and I regretted it.
I begged the swelling to stop, but the swelling didn't stop. No,
it got worse. My vision was getting blurry, and my
breathing was getting heavy. The sight of the bakery, people, animals, ground,
and sky all blended together. It made me think of
an artist's pellet that painters used to create, except on
this palette, the hand of gilt smeared all the colors
together that made a dark, opaque tone. I collapsed on
the ground, Naomi, my mom screamed. Three days later, I
woke up in my own bed. The town's doctor and
mom were at my side. My mom, a worried mess,
pulled her hair out due to the excess anxiety. I
had caused. The doctor said I had an allergic reaction
and that I almost died. I thought you'd never wake up,
my mom cried. I hugged her. I'm sorry, mommy. I
learned my lesson karma is real, and I don't want
any more to do with it. The doctor concluded that
I had Celiac disease. I can't process certain foods. Right,
we didn't exactly know what foods. All I knew was
if I ate bread, then I would develop a life
threatening allergic reaction. But it's not like I can't have
ice cream or chocolate. I was in the market place
drooling over angelic kisses that a humble chocolatear created. A
young boy smacked me in the face with a flyer
for the upcoming Fall Festival. Apparently the bakery did so
well that they built a pizza restaurant and a brewery.
They wanted to celebrate their grand opening with the festival.
Not that I could have had any of that, but
the flyer said there'd be rides and a maze. I
ran back home to show my mom the flyer. I
opened up the creaky front door and slammed the flyer
on the table. My mom looked at me, unsurprised and
waited for me to say something that would make her laugh.
I pointed at the flyer, please please, please. My mom sighed,
even if I wanted to, which I do, we don't
have the money to go. My shoulders hunched over and
my head sank toward the ground. I knew we didn't
have much money. I didn't want to badger my mom
about it. She's done so much for me. Then an
idea struck me, like last season's lightning did with the
charred shed out back. I jumped up in the air
and sprinted as fast as I could the front door
and made my way to the market place. I walked
into the bakery and asked if I could work to
pay off two tickets to attend the festival. The baker
looked at me. He seemed displeased. I felt as if
he judged me because I was a kid. My mom
and I ran a goat farm. I ran the dairy portion,
my mom ran the butchery. I could handle a little
work at a bakery. No work for you here, kid,
nothing you could do. At least my eyebrows pushed together.
This guy knew nothing about me and wrote me off
like a stale French baguette. Nothing I can't do. This
is pebbles compared to my goat farm. The baker and
I stare at each other. Down look, little girl, a tall,
slim man with a monocle on one eye walked in
from the back of the store. You're hired. That was
easier than I thought. You start at dawn tomorrow, the
tall man said. I quickly responded back, yes, sir, Thank you, sir.
I pushed myself through the sea of faces. On the
way back home, I turned my head to the left
and saw the castle on the golden hill side. Someday
I'll be in that castle, I thought to myself. The
front door to our house slammed open. My feet ran
too fast for my body to catch up. I made
it past the threshold, and my legs gave out. As
I laid down in our kitchen, I saw a pair
of legs that wore a large blue wool dress accompanied
with leather boots. What you doing down there, my mom
playfully asked, Ah, you know, contemplating life. Mom crossed her arms,
and who would be taking care of the dairy? I
looked up and saw a stern face Phil the stern
face turned into a disgruntled face. Phil the Goat. I
tried my best not to erupt with laughter. He can
practically milk himself. Her eyes rolled hard than the town hills.
I can't work with Phil the Goat. I've already lost
half my mind. I grabbed onto the helping hands offered
and hoisted myself up. I can't afford to lose my
other half. I met with her eyes, and I saw
she was acting way too serious to be serious. We
both exploded with laughter and cackled a cacophony. I stood
proud and smiled. I got us two tickets to the
Fall Festival. My mom's eyebrows rose. How did you manage that?
Grandiosity got the best of me. I walked right into
the bakery and asked for a job. Her motherly instinct
kicked in. But there's bread in the bakery. What if
you have a reaction? I took a deep breath. It's
only if, I ingested mom. I went in there today
and look, I'm fine. Just don't leave me here with Phil,
even if he can milk himself. Mom couldn't hold a
straight face. I smirk. I arrived at the bakery a
little early. I'm used to working early. We're usually working
on the goat farm at dawn, so this was not
much different to me. The tall man with the monocle
already opened up shop. I thought i'd be the first
one here. I walked in, and he eagerly greeted me.
You're here, bright and early, earlier than our baker. Most impressive.
He put on his monocle to get a look at me.
I didn't catch your name yesterday, miss Naomi, sir, and
thank you, I replied. He took off his monocle and
was about to prepare for the day. Come with me, Naomi,
you will be assisting our baker. I walked behind the
counter and to the back of the bakery. This is
where you will be prepping and baking. I saw tables
and a humongous counter to my right and a large
oven to my left. Ambrose, Good morning, young man. This
is Naomi. She will be assisting you today. Ambrose was
annoyed to see me. To be fair, our last encounter
wasn't the greatest. Whatever you say, boss, He didn't even
look at me. Once Ambrose pulled out multiple buckets and rags,
he started wiping and sanitizing the kitchen. How can I help,
I asked. Ambrose pointed at a mop and bucket. You
could mop the floor without hesitation. I grabbed the mop.
We finished cleaning. Simultaneously, Ambrose prepared a recipe. He grabbed
three cups of butter and one cup of flour. Mix
these together. He handed me a bowl and a spoon.
I threw the two ingredients into the bowl and started
the mixing process. While I mixed that, he gathered ingredients
for the second part of the recipe. Four cups of flour,
one cup of water, one and a half cups plus
one tablespoonful of butter, one tablespoon of sugar, two tablespoons
of salt, and one tablespoon of lemon juice. When you're
done mixing that, come mix the de tromp, Ambrose said.
The de tromp took forever. It was about twenty minutes
of kneading. I noticed something in the dough after I
was done. There was a black, fuzzy spot in the mixture.
Is this normal? Ambrose walked over and shook his head.
It's from the flour. I stopped kneading the dough. Should
we throw it out? Ambrose called for the tall man
with the monocle take a look at this. The tall
man adjusted his monocle to inspect it. Hmm, mold from
the wheat. It will cook out during the baking process.
Ambrose needed the de trump, then rolled it out and
folded it. For a final touch up, I need you
to peel and cut those apples. There had to be
about one hundred apples waiting to be cut. I took
a deep breath and began all of this for two tickets.
I feel like I got the short end of the deal,
I thought to myself. After I peeled the apples. My
next step was to melt butter in a pan, then
add apples, brown sugar, lemon juice, salt, and cinnamon. Reduced
the heat, and add cornstarch to thicken the sauce. Ambrose
cut the puff pastry dow and made it into smaller pieces.
He then poured the apple filling into the center of
each dough square that he cut. Okay, now we crimp them.
We folded the pastries in half, then crimped them with forks.
I threw them in the oven for about twenty minutes.
The de trump turned out to be so flaky with
perfect layers. The apple filling smelled divine. I had the
honor of icing the tops Wila apple turnovers. Ambrose said
they looked like dessert that could be fed to the gods.
The tall man walked into the kitchen and took a
big whiff. Do you smell that? The smell of success?
I imagine gold coins in his eyes. I imagine him
not caring about the people, but about his success, no
matter what the cost. Who was I to point the finger?
Though I did this for selfish reasons myself. Take the
rest of the day off, Naomi. You deserve it. You
can continue again tomorrow morning. I sighed with relief. I
couldn't wait to tell mom about my day. My mom
sat on the front porch as I walked up to
the house. How was your day, Naomi? I lugged my
tired legs to the porch and plopped down hard. I
exhaled longer than necessary. I loved it, even though I
can't eat it. I love baking. My mom looked so surprised,
it was like she was a kid again. I squeezed
her hard with my dough encrusted outfit. I think I
want to be a baker. She looked at me with
a long pause. You're going to have to help me
find your replacement. I look back at her with a
long pause. How about mom? Instantly cut me off. Nope,
don't even say it. The next day, I showed up
a little earlier, but the tall man still beat me
to the bakery. Did this guy ever sleep? I admire
your attitude. I may just have to hire you full
time here at the bakery. I started to like the guy.
He definitely grew on me. Thank you, sir. You can
call me Georgie. Georgie smiled as he adjusted his monocle.
Ambrose and I baked all day in the kitchen again.
We made ginger snaps and pumpkin cookies, bumbleberry pie, honeycake,
and zucchini bread. We were on a roll. Then a
day dream came over me. I thought of the castle.
I could be the King's personal baker, surrounded by royalty
silk and the best food money can offer. That would
be lovely, nothing to worry about. I wouldn't have to
be afraid of diseases, thieves and death that plagued the streets.
But reality hit me when a drunk guy walked into
the bakery. Hey, y'all, do you have any of them flatbreads?
The man slurred, with a putrid stench coming off of
his breath. This is a bakery, not a pizzeria, sell
pie cakes, bread and cookies. I said, no flatbreads. The
man stumbled over and crashed into a set of chairs.
The door slammed open behind me, and Georgie stormed in.
Speaker 3: No, and you know that.
Speaker 8: Georgie looked at the man with disgust. My apologies, Naomi,
my idiot son can't tell this is a bakery because
he's a pathetic drunk. Well, I pretended like I wasn't
even there. Get out of here before you ruin everything.
Georgie sent Ambrose and I home early, which was fine
with me because I didn't know if I could have
taken that tension much longer. The next day was the
day I'd been waiting for the Fall Festival. Mom and
I woke up early and put on our Sunday best.
It looked exactly like how I expected, magical, even Mom
acted like a little kid. There were fire dancers, acrobatics, jousting, singers, jesters, musicians, storytellers,
and rides. I was especially excited for the chariot racing.
You could pay to be a passenger and a chariot
with one of the best racers in the land. Winner
would take the cash prize and split it with the passenger.
My dream was to bake in the King's castle and
race chariots in front of the townspeople. Mom and I
mounted separate chariots in this race. She was not my mom,
she was my sworn enemy, and I showed no mercy.
All ten chariots were mounted and prepared to go. A
man with a drum stepped out in front of us.
I will count down from three, and on the bang
of the drum, the race will begin. Unsurprisingly, Georgie's drunk
son stumbled in front of us. He looked worse than
last time. I sunken in black. He couldn't stand straight
up because he was constantly on the verge of puking,
clumps of hair missing, and crust all over his face.
He wiped his mouth of vomit. Satan is upon us.
He wallows in agony and torture. Self indulgence leads to
a path of destruction. Tendons were hanging where fingers should
have been on his hands. You could see where teeth
fell out of his mouth and he kept falling over.
He lunged at the guard that tried to restrain him.
The other guards pulled him off before he caused any
more damage. Listen to me, this is the end. Everyone
laughed at the town drunk and brushed the whole incident off.
The drummer up front got on his mark three two one,
and his mallet struck the drum. It echoed through my ears.
The horses bolted forward. My driver kept his legs bent
and leaned forward while he reined in the horse. I
copied his stance and followed his lead. When he leaned
left or right, I did the same. As we were
in the lead, I looked over to the driver and
he was looking very pale. Then he started to violently
vomit as he lost control of the reins. Then he
convulsed on the floor of the ch chariot. As we
were headed straight for a barn. I grabbed hold of
the reins to steer out of the way, but I
wasn't able to dodge it. The chariot clipped the corner
of the barn and fell over. My head thrashed against
the wood. Everything was woozy. The driver still in the
chariot started foaming at the mouth. I was scared. I
didn't know what was going to happen. An uneasy feeling
filled up my stomach. The driver scurried from inside the
chariot out to where the other racers were passing by.
He lunged toward an oncoming racer and landed in the chariot.
My driver started attacking the other driver. The horse backed
kicked the chariot and everyone fell out. The other driver
and passenger were trampled by another horse and chariot. The
horse and chariot that ran them over was my mom.
Speaker 4: Mom.
Speaker 8: I screamed in terror, Naomi. Mom's chariot jolted her out
after it ran over a driver. She flung on to
the ground and landed on her neck. I heard it
break like a bundle of celery. She was twitching as
I ran over to her. Mom, Mom, are you okay?
She didn't respond, Please, no, Mom, you have to make it.
I can't lose you. Mom twitched one final time and
must have severed her spinal cord because she stopped cold.
I didn't have much time since more drivers were about
to come through. I dragged Mom's body off to the
side a jesture, and the distance sprinted toward us. My
heart almost exploded out of my chest. I fled back
underneath my chariot. The day went from pure bliss to
sheer terror. My mom's body kept getting trampled by horses
and chariots. People fluttered into the streets and fought to
the death. It was as if people were possessed by
evil spirits. Limbs were being ripped off, bleeding from eyes, ears,
and noses. A group of people flipped the chariot I
was underneath. They started fighting each other like I was
their last meal. I dashed away and in a nearby building,
I made it inside safely. The streets were on fire
and filled with blood. I don't understand why that nightmare happened.
Life was already hard enough. What did we do to
deserve this? I heard yelling outside. It was different because
what I saw in the streets couldn't sound words. Slowly,
I crept toward the window and took a peek fire.
A dozen bullets shot into the streets and pierced the
flash of these monsters. The monsters kept advancing past the
fallen bodies and made a hole in the wall of
the gunman. Slowly the gunman turned into these evil entities.
Then more men piled in with swords. It didn't end
until every last body had fallen. I smelled the decay
of death and felt darkness shroud all around me. I
hid in a closet, waiting for all of this to end.
The door opened and woke me up. There stood the
tall man with the monocle, Georgie. He stared at me
and grind and seize her at once. She is the
one that caused all of this death and destruction, because
she's a witch. The guards snatched me out of the closet.
I'm not a witch, I protested, but the guards didn't
want to listen to anything I had to say. Don't
listen to this pagan. She'll turn you into one of them.
A guard said, what this puny girl? Another guard said,
and they all laughed. I saw Georgie behind us, grinning.
It's like he planned all this. It wasn't fair. All
I did was help him, and he used me as
a puppet for his destruction. The guards tied me up
and threw me into a buggy. Georgie laughed hysterically. Outside,
then entered the buggy. Georgie, why is this happening? I
didn't do this. The only thing I know how to
do is run a goat farm. I'm a kid, not
a witch. Georgie slapped me. Shut up, little pagan. You
know nothing. Whether you like it or not, you are
paying for the hell that happened at my festival. Went
back to grinning and adjusted his monocle. After saving the day,
I am going to be appointed Lord of the Royal Council,
and soon I will be crowned king. Was this about greed?
Until what end? Such a lonely, pathetic life I saw.
There was no convincing this man otherwise. He saw a
world that served him, not the other way around. I
could barely see out the window. My eyes were swollen,
my face was bleeding, and I felt I was about
to pass out, but I managed to see the castle.
I guess my wish came true. I got to be
inside the castle on the golden hill side, but the
circumstances were not the same. I was painted as a
murdering witch, not as a prestige baker. The guards lugged
me out of the buggy and Georgie led us up
to what seemed like the king's throne. Then he tossed
me in front of the king himself. What is the
meaning of this, the king boomed. Everyone silenced, and Georgie
stepped forward to speak, Your highness, this witch you see
here cast a curse on the town festival, turning it
into Helen Earth. She murdered hundreds of people. Little girl,
what are they talking about, the king asked me. If
she speaks, she may cast a spell on all of us.
Georgie interrupted, Let her speak, the king demanded, sir. I'm
not a witch. I am but a simple goat farmer.
The King sat back to understand the situation. Be that
as it may. Then why were you coincidentally the only
one alive. I can't be too sure, but I think
it has to do with something in the food and drink.
I can't have anything with a bread in it or
I have a deathly allergic reaction. The King then looked
at Georgie with concern. So that's what this witch's weakness is.
The food of the people, Georgie retorted. The crowd started
chanting which which which, and the King had no choice.
He was the man of the people. He had no
evidence of why this catastrophic event happened. It was so
unworldly that it had to be the cause of a
witch It was the only logical explanation given the context.
The King banged his staff against the floor several times silence.
I have decided. The King looked at me. This young
girl is hereby sentenced to burn at the stake for
practicing witchcraft and murder. Georgie grinned his eyes, looked at
me with a sparkle. He was getting away with murdering
all those people. He killed my mom and I had
to pay the price. I should have stayed home. I
have a last request, I objected. The King looked at
me with disdain. What is it, little girl? I would
like one last meal. The King threw his apple turnover
at me. This looked like the ones Ambrose and I
had made. I looked at Georgie and and he was
trying to murder the king, but I stopped him from
his plan. I ate the apple turnover. It was the
best thing I had eaten in my entire life. The
guards tied me to a stake and set the kindle
underneath on fire. I kept my eyes on Georgie. The
fire started getting very hot, and I could feel my
feet burning. Not only that, though, I could feel something inside.
I started filling up with the rage. I vomited out
the food I ate and started screaming. My body was
twitching violently. I could feel the rope loosen and my
hand broke free. I scratched at the rope to get
my other arm free. My body was on fire, both
on the inside and outside. I lost control. Everything was
turning dark. Then I lost my sense of smell, then hearing.
Then one last thought came into my mind, the blissful
sight of the castle on the Golden Hillside.
Speaker 1: Today's episode on the Hitch was written by Brian d
so Oscar Janssen in Meat Puppet is played by Donald Sutton.
Fenn in Casino is played by Jason Feller. Laurie in
Casino is played by Angie Parker. Steak Dinner is narrated
by Robin Robbins. Charlie is narrated by Jason Fella. The
Golden hill Side is narrated by Nina Instead. Hitch is
a fictional podcast. Any names or likeness that are similar
to real world ones are entirely coincidental.