Speaker 1: Catherine Lindy lay crumpled on the sticky tile of the
super Awesome Diner, a blood pulling in quiet little rivers
that didn't care about health. Coats outside the audience scratched
and chewed at the walls like termites with a taste
of forebone, flesh and something more, perhaps their hungers shake
in the glass in its frame. Lynde's eyes fluttered, drifting
beyond the cracked ceiling tiles, beyond the chaos, toward the
strange relief of finality, the end. Finally here. The colors
drained out of the room, peeling away like a bad
or paper baiting.
Speaker 2: Colors over me.
Speaker 1: And then, just as she let go, a boice broke
through familiar impossible. Her eyes snapped open, breath cut in
her throat, like she'd stolen it back from the grave.
She thought she died, Maybe she had. Maybe this was
the punchline standing over her, impossibly a life as the
figure she'd least expected. Twenty minutes ago, she had watched
this swat team member Private Moon drag this woman out
and toss her into the audience like a free sample.
She was supposed to be gone, eaten, eraised, but there's
she once, Susan doctor, Susan d her sister.
Speaker 3: Then Lynn, can you hear me? Can you hear what?
Speaker 4: What the fuck?
Speaker 3: Apper? Shot? Can you want what?
Speaker 4: No? I think I was shot?
Speaker 3: You were? Can you walk?
Speaker 4: I'm pretty sure I was shot.
Speaker 3: We're shot. We don't have much time. Please get up,
Please get up and walk.
Speaker 5: Leave it.
Speaker 4: Get up, and I'm pretty sure I was dead.
Speaker 3: You were.
Speaker 1: Fuck Inside the diner's bathroom, Thomas rattled against the locked
door like a man trying to bargain with steel and frame.
The lights above him buzzed and flickered, throwing shadows that
stretched too long for the size of the room. He
paced in short, frantic loops, every step louder than it
should be on cracked tile. His voice cracked, his silence jagged,
mixed of fury and pleading, bouncing back at him from
his stained walls. Outside the cell, Lynde stood perfectly stiff.
Her face wore a calm like an armor, her eyes
sharpened into steel through the narrow cracks of the door.
She watched them, patient, delivered, her thoughts ticked and orderly
rose plans, stacking answers, rehearsed, the upline of a new path,
etched in silence. Only the faintest trace of pity crossed
her expression, and even that look to rehearse like a
mask she wasn't sure she wanted to wear.
Speaker 6: Is opened. You can't just leave me here, the here, please,
this isn't you what if you do one?
Speaker 4: It doesn't have to be this way, Thomas. I know
exactly who I am. You just never bothered it hard
enough or clothes enough. Fucking Thomas.
Speaker 6: Damn it, God, damn it. You lie to me? Do
you lie to all of us? Because it is your
sister's thing? Are all life? Just to get in there?
Just what to what? Habbot? Take revenge? You're not making
me fucking sense.
Speaker 4: I didn't come here to make sense to you, Thomas.
I came here to do what it needs to be done.
Blank orpe owes me a debt, very old, very bloody debt,
and I'm here to collect.
Speaker 6: This isn't about your son, is it. This is about power.
You've been always to brun it all down.
Speaker 4: Don't talk to me about them. You don't understand, You
wouldn't understand. Shut up, Shut up, Thomas. She was more
than my family. They were They were taking from me
lost in this fucking nightmare that blank were created. And yes,
I knew every detail about the people in Nun's life,
and and and they would that she would talk about
them over the years, the stories she shared, even about you. Yes, Thomas,
I fucking knew about you. It was easy to step
into her life to make you believe, to make her
believe they fucking play this fallacy. But my Dylan was different.
Dylan was was my own, was part of my family,
and and and knowing they were out there gone, going
through this, that's a loss I can never escape, but
I can make blank or feel it. That's exactly what
I intend to.
Speaker 6: Do, Susan. If you do this, Susan, if you do this,
there's no coming back. You'll be condemning innocent people that
they're people. Will just me, whatever happened to Dyler, Listen
to me, whatever happens to Dyler. This isn't a way
to get it right. This isn't the way.
Speaker 4: But you were wrong, don't. I don't need to burn
the world down, Thomas. I don't fucking need the believe
the world's already do this. I just need to re
ignite a little spark just enough to get Blankorb's attention
to make them see that I am done with their games,
their lives, and I won't stop until every last one
of them knows exactly.
Speaker 6: But I lost. Don't do that.
Speaker 4: I lost everything.
Speaker 6: Whatever you're planning, I can help you, I can help you.
I'm a great resource for you right now.
Speaker 4: No, fuck you, Thomas. I don't need your help.
Speaker 6: We can find another way, a way that doesn't end
in more does.
Speaker 4: More destruction, bankrupt created this hell, and now the reap
what they've shown. I'm not here to end you. I
have nothing against you, Thomas. I am saving you. I
am here or blind corp. But the time comes, they
will wish they had never crossed me.
Speaker 6: God fucking damn it.
Speaker 4: It's like she said the notes there, The notes reads,
you made a good job, sister. I knew you had
it in you, well like Conna knew you had it
in you. Bitch visits in Lynn. What the fuck are
you doing? If so? If you know where to go,
it's two zero sits to zero eight six. What U
that's the gate code? I know exactly where to go next,
you fucking bachelor pat Susan. I hope the answers are.
Speaker 7: There Welcome to Excuses. The podcast appeals back the layers
of a small town life, uncovering the hidden horrors lurking
just beneath the surface of Joyspell, North Carolina, from the
tale of a queen little diner to the chilling corporate
secrets of Blind Corn. This is in your ordinary postpacalleptive
survival story. No, this is something much darker, much weirder,
much funnier, perhaps all from the perspective of the only survivor.
You'll dive into a quirky, fragmented recollection of chaos and
growing dread that led to joy Spell's downfall. Oh and
a little bit of warning before we get started. Excuse
Us contains mature content intended for a mature audience, strong language,
and let's you say, a rather twisted sense of humor
is intended. Litterer indiscretion is definitely.
Speaker 8: Advised, Doctor d The board will see you about ten minutes,
so ten minutes to your presentation, please, doctor.
Speaker 4: Thank you, Thank you.
Speaker 3: Any last minute thoughts words of Wisdom's encouragement warnings.
Speaker 4: Rose, yes, two, what have you got?
Speaker 9: One they've already made up their mind about your presentation
and two hopefully they've already hot lunch, insightful? What can
I say, d I never asked for this babysitting job.
Speaker 3: Welcome to Seahawk Bay.
Speaker 10: Rose there you okay, Susan, Can we have a word?
Please inscribe it? Thank you?
Speaker 3: Okay.
Speaker 11: I know this is a big deal for you, but
I can't wait, and I need to make this about.
Speaker 10: Me right now.
Speaker 3: Of course you can't.
Speaker 4: Should I leave? Why Noted?
Speaker 11: I'm going to talk to Dylan tomorrow on our fishing trip.
And Dylan is excited about it, the fishing trip, not
about the time. They don't know about it talk. She
doesn't know about her time. I'm gonna tell her everything what.
Speaker 3: You're gonna tell them? Everything?
Speaker 10: Ah? Not this again, not, Susan, not not not in
front of this.
Speaker 9: Person you I was asked to stay as you weren't indirectly.
Speaker 10: Also, I'm a you're not.
Speaker 11: I'm gonna blow this lid wide open, sos and and
and and and let let let the bottle flights of
truth take flight. Okay, enjoy them much overdue freedom under
its Lord's glorious.
Speaker 9: Son Jesus fucking classic, fucking cat.
Speaker 11: Preciate it if you didn't use the Lord's name in
vain out. I'm out, I'm around, Okay, do not disrespect
me like that, doctor Franklin. I'm also a doctor, Okay,
please and thank you. She knows I'm a doctor too, right,
I am. I have a doctorate. I have earned it
the right way.
Speaker 3: I can't.
Speaker 10: Yeah, you are so rude.
Speaker 9: You are not a nice person.
Speaker 10: You know I'm a nice person, I am.
Speaker 9: I mean you pretend to be nice, but you are
not nice in the real sense of that.
Speaker 10: Well, you can't be honest and nice.
Speaker 3: No, you are not nice. You are a fake impostor.
Speaker 10: Why are you still here?
Speaker 3: Ken of cloaked deception, mask with politeness and nice activities?
Speaker 10: Why are you still here.
Speaker 3: When people say that you're nice?
Speaker 10: Why haven't you left?
Speaker 4: She's talking to you. You're rude.
Speaker 3: They're not saying that you are a good person. They're
saying that you mask the reality that you propose. Ugh,
I mean, being nice is not the same as being
kind or honest. Be a nice is fake.
Speaker 10: Why is she still here?
Speaker 4: She's talking to you?
Speaker 3: You are a fake person, Kevin.
Speaker 10: I don't like this.
Speaker 9: I'm not fucking leaving now out of principle.
Speaker 8: Five minutes, doctor, you know.
Speaker 3: Why I called it hawk, not because of speed, not
because of power, Because hawks they see everything. They hovered
just high enough to look harmless, almost majestic, while they
track every twitch, every heartbeat, every shadow, pretending to be still.
Speaker 11: Blindcorp admired that am I the hawk in this scenario?
Speaker 3: No, you, silly little twat.
Speaker 4: Do the Egypt thing? The Egypt bit.
Speaker 3: In Egypt, hawks were sacred Horace, the Goth of sky,
the one who sees and judges balance, God, the god
of sky, you idiot.
Speaker 10: Oh okay, sorry, sorry.
Speaker 3: His eyes watch over kings and corpses, surveillance, dressed up
as divine protection. Does that sound familiar to you?
Speaker 9: She's the hawk you goof?
Speaker 3: And in this tribe the bulldoze to build joy spill.
Hawks were actually messengers, a spirit world correspondence, showed up
before storms, after death. They just observed, They warn this
is here. They meant something, They were audience members.
Speaker 11: Is this why the hawk is the local bird? I
thought it was just a fun coincidence, you know, a
fun coincidence.
Speaker 10: It's not. It's not a coincidence.
Speaker 9: There are no coincidence.
Speaker 4: It's only a path.
Speaker 3: It's a blank warm in this endless hunger to commetify,
meaning turn the hawk into a program, a virus with
a name like a symbol. They said it was behavioral recalibration,
but you and I both know what that means. It
means control. And when people begin to change, when their
eyes went dull and their mouths wouldn't stop chewing, they
didn't call them infected, h to messy, too mus drama,
too human enough. They call them the audience, just like
the hawks, always vigilant, always watching. And that's what enrage
me more than the bodies, than the systematic line, the metaphors.
You will stare at a town full of dead, and
you still can't call that a pilot program, your run trials.
You tweak variables. You forget Dylan was in one of
those variables, Kevin, my love. You forget that they did
stuff to them. Hawks don't care what side you're on, Kevin.
They just watch and wait. And I'm not a hawk.
I am the message. I am not here to observant anymore.
Speaker 8: The board will see you now, doctor d and that
is my cue.
Speaker 4: Excuse me, fuck fox, Susan.
Speaker 8: I believe you were asked to leave. God shout shoot
off with you. Off with you, O very.
Speaker 4: How am I alive? I just my it is killing me.
Can I ask a question?
Speaker 3: Let's just get this over it and be quick. I
brought you back with an unstable, unsynthesized version of the vaccine. Next.
Speaker 4: Okay, Uh so you figured it out?
Speaker 6: Yah?
Speaker 3: Not quite?
Speaker 4: Wait how unstable?
Speaker 3: You're gonna have a tough time being.
Speaker 4: Being Why alive for a little while? Fun? Akay, damn it.
Speaker 3: There's more. Team Brable failed our mission, so another squad
is already inbound to verify why already why the device
that goes boom didn't go anything?
Speaker 4: Why? Why am I getting here?
Speaker 6: What? Why?
Speaker 4: Why am I even here?
Speaker 3: This is all rotocal. They will come and get you,
keep them guessing when I ask you questions. The side
effects will make this easier. You will have your questioning
the very fabric of reality. But above anything else, you
have to I need you to get this across your head.
You have to pretend you are me. You got it
and will I soon?
Speaker 4: Okay?
Speaker 3: Anything else?
Speaker 7: Fuck?
Speaker 4: The private that that killed Kevin Moon? Was it Private Moon?
Speaker 3: She was Dylan's real mother and the Corneals bastard?
Speaker 4: What the fuck?
Speaker 3: She was our sister?
Speaker 4: So that's why you meant by the off side spring
still the family reunion. Huh. Yeah, I knew it.
Speaker 3: Yeah, fucking knew it. Knew she wasn't she was. I
knew she was.
Speaker 4: Yah, child purpose you were so distant okay. Also we
had a sister. You just God, this family is fucked.
Speaker 3: Let's do it again soon. Huh. Find your way back here.
I'll leave you the next steps in a box and
in a tin box.
Speaker 4: Yeah were you bit? You were bit? Yes, you were bit? Okay,
you were bit?
Speaker 3: Yes, Just and Dylan she was bit almost about a
week ago when she decided to go hang out. But
when you're diner, stray.
Speaker 4: Don't don't fucking start, Okay, I mean, Susan, don't fucking
start a week, a whole fucking week. They didn't turn.
I saw that. That that the SWAT team memory just
turning less than an hour, right, it just turned in
less than an hour.
Speaker 3: Yeah, it's a fast strand and evolve. The audience isn't stupid.
They learn, they adapt, they understand. The worst thing you
can do is to underestimate the audience. You did.
Speaker 4: Now everyone is dead, You're not anymore. Everyone.
Speaker 7: Fuck.
Speaker 4: So what's the skinny, what's the plan? What's the plan again,
just just what's the plan?
Speaker 3: You get into the cooler, okay, the empty cooler you
got outside. You wait for the Alpha team to show.
They're going to want to know what and how. They're
gonna ask you a lot of questions. There they're gonna
take you to terminal, see and evaluate you. You need to
play along, play some mind games. Pretend to be me.
Pretend to be me. That's the most important takeaway. Okay,
can you repeat that, be Susan, Pretend to be Susan.
Speaker 4: God, damn it, God, damn it, God, damn it.
Speaker 3: You need to play mind games with them, give them
half throats, half baked ideas, play along. Depending on who
it is down there, It'll take you maybe a few
days and most to get out.
Speaker 4: Why am I doing this?
Speaker 2: Why?
Speaker 3: When you get out, you come back here and find
that cooler. I'll leave you more details and instructions in there.
I just I will need to write them down first,
and then they will be there.
Speaker 4: I shouldn't be so strange to be this forward since
we lost everything again. So I will, I will, Will
I ever see you again?
Speaker 3: No?
Speaker 4: Fuck, God, damn it.
Speaker 12: Kay Lynn is at the entrance of the apartment complex.
No need to deal with security outside since there is
no one around. She pushes through the guarded gate and
inside the tall building. It's a huge mess inside. People
either left in a hurry and marauders came and took
whatever was worth anything.
Speaker 4: Jesus.
Speaker 12: She turns the page. A handwritten note is scrawled in
the margins of a blind corp document project refrain, It's
not about control, It's about petition. The air shifts, A
soft shuffling noise echoes down the hall. Lynn freezes, hand
hovering over her gun. Then, OHI dying yours? Lynn spins
gun rays. A man stands in the doorway, barely human.
His clothes are tattered, his skin pale and sweating, veins
darkened unnaturally, a survivor, one of the last. He grins,
but it doesn't reach his bloodshot eyes.
Speaker 5: Ah, the foks in the hand house, the thieves in
the ruins, They shadow creeping through my window into my kingdom.
Mes it what he sakely's a foxy You com't rubbed
the dead bunny king just like that.
Speaker 12: Before Lynn doesn't lower the gun. The man rocks on
his heels, eyes darting wildly, his fingers twitch wrapped tightly
around the hilt of a knife.
Speaker 4: Fuck up, fuck, okay, okay, I don't know what the
fuck you're talking about.
Speaker 5: I just oh, lies, lies, Oh your foxes.
Speaker 2: Like the bonny king, trusted are And what did the
hair do? Cut him? Cut him, took his crown?
Speaker 10: Diddy?
Speaker 7: Oh?
Speaker 5: Now the fox sneaks sin, thinking she can come and go.
Speaker 2: And what is nash?
Speaker 12: He steps closer. Lynn grips her gun tighter, calculating he's unstable,
but he hasn't attacked yet. He wants something.
Speaker 2: Tell me, fox, where is your crown? Where is the crown?
The lost crown of the foreign French.
Speaker 12: Zogsin Lynn's eyes flicked to the desk. There, sitting in
a pile of old office supplies, is a batter tissue box.
She makes a choice.
Speaker 4: My god, I have it.
Speaker 12: The survivor stills, his lips twitch, A long breath rattles
in his chest.
Speaker 10: You are the.
Speaker 4: Ground, Yeah I do. I will trade it. Oh.
Speaker 12: She reaches out, slow, deliberate, grasping the tissue box, lifting
it like a sacred relic. The survivor's breath quickens, his
fingers flex around the knife.
Speaker 2: You would part with such a treasure.
Speaker 4: Yeah, before a safe passage, that's my price.
Speaker 12: Silence. The man sways, lips moving and whispered calculations. Then
abruptly he nods, lowering the knife.
Speaker 2: A fox is wise. She knows when to barter and when.
Speaker 4: To bow safe passage.
Speaker 12: Lynn steps forward, offering the crown. The survivor takes it
with trembling hands, eyes wide with reverence. He cradles it
like something holy.
Speaker 2: Long live Prince, size, Long live the Prince.
Speaker 12: Then just as quickly, his gaze snaps back to Lynn,
deadly sharp, Now.
Speaker 2: Go Fox before the hebitis.
Speaker 12: Lynn doesn't hesitate. She moves past him out of the hall,
money into the floor upstairs, where Susan's apartment is located.
Behind her, the man hums to himself, rocking gently, lost
in whatever twisted fairy tale his mind his spine.
Speaker 4: Yeah, fucking two hours of dandy you paid off.
Speaker 12: Lynn steps into the abandoned apartment. Papers scattered everywhere, and
it looks as if someone was either trying to hide
something or looking for it. Lynn steps forward into the
place and moves towards a desk. A note attached to
it says, play me darkness. A voicemail plays over a
black screen, glitching in and out, warped and distorted. It's
Susan's voice.
Speaker 3: Hey Lynn, if you get this well, I guess that
means we lost.
Speaker 6: Maybe you still.
Speaker 12: Can a harsh static burst. The message cuts out, looping
back to the start a beat, then the screen flickers
to life. Lin d staring at her phone in the
dim light of a motel room. Her face is unreadable,
exhausted the weight of too many ghosts pressing against her
rib cage.
Speaker 4: You're dead, Susan.
Speaker 12: She plays the message again. The distortion worsened, the walls
seem closer now, the ceiling lower, the room humming with
something unseen outside. A neon sign flickers open, though the
streets of Joyceville are anything but alive. She looks down
a pill sits top of a sticky note, as if
out of Wonderland. It reads eat me. She exhales, sharply,
rubbing a hand over her face, and takes the pill
without a drink. The air is heavy, like the room
itself is pressing in. Then quietly, another voice breaks the silence.
Speaker 3: What do you think Pa would have said about all this?
You're dead? Yeah?
Speaker 4: Jack's shit?
Speaker 3: Yeah, I mean Pa? Now or paw Den.
Speaker 4: Yeah, you're right, Pap now would have been all kinds
of dumb fucking politics and shit, yeah, shit at leasy
wouldn't bring Jesus.
Speaker 3: And then that Max he did back them too. We're
just the wrong gender, do you wearing?
Speaker 4: John Paul?
Speaker 3: D fucking John Paul?
Speaker 4: You never have to any of this shit?
Speaker 3: Yeah? Do you remember that time he took me out
in the boat fishings? Yeah?
Speaker 4: How long you're being holding on to that thing? How
long are you been meaning to bring that up? Huh years?
Speaker 3: Yeah, Kathy, Yes, Okay, you fucking stopped talking to me,
that's what happened.
Speaker 4: Well, yeah, I guess it was a work call.
Speaker 3: I had a choice. He said, you coming or am
I taking the other one? Well, there you go then,
But you know, no, I do know how happened that there.
You don't know ever?
Speaker 4: Do you mean?
Speaker 3: I sat in his goddamn truck all fucking day, no
fucking day?
Speaker 4: Did what did you ask?
Speaker 3: Okay? We didn't say a word until we got there.
We showed up early or too early? I don't know,
fucking I know how to finch. We just sat there
for a while and then I asked I had to
ask I don't even know why I asked. I asked,
if we caught a baby fish or a small little flounder,
if we could heal him back before we put him
back in the water, because the hook would probably hurt it.
Speaker 4: And what happened.
Speaker 3: He didn't even look at me, and he said, should
have taken the other one. I went to reach for
the door, and he just said, don't. I stayed in
the truck all day that I slept some, and then
I just slumped and waited. I cried a lot, kind
of but I was afraid that he might be back
and my face would be old, puffy, and he'd know
that he'd give me shit for it. So I would
hold it and then sab under my breath. I remember
him coming back in the truck and all he said
was you ate, And I said no, sir, And then
he was so much more frustrated with me.
Speaker 4: Is that why you snocked downstairs for food?
Speaker 3: No right way, no right way to do anything, no
right way to be a line?
Speaker 4: He lost his Yeah, because you decided to eat at
one am in the morning.
Speaker 3: Yeah, it was around eleven pm, but yeah, I was
trying to be quiet. But I guess it wasn't in
the carts.
Speaker 4: As wasn't in the cards. Again, Ato's wasn't in the cards.
Speaker 3: Maybe you still can get this? Well we lost?
Speaker 12: Maybe you still can one she hasn't heard in six months.
The room hums with silence. The voicemail still lingers on
her phone screen, waiting, taunting. Lynn exhales, pressing play again.
The words glitch. The static thickens, and reality bends just
a little more around her.
Speaker 4: It is wasn't in the cards.
Speaker 3: Maybe you still can? Hey, Lynn, if you get this, well.
Speaker 11: We lost?
Speaker 8: Maybe Okay?
Speaker 4: What the fuck is going on?
Speaker 1: It came from the bathroom, the only part of the
place that she hadn't touched because it felt like it
might touch her back. Lynn moved like she was following
a thread, only she could see the pill still had
its claws in her. Every light looked like it belonged
to another planet, Every shadow like it might lean in
and ask a personal, invasive question. She was hoping, stupidly,
desperately that whatever was making that noise was friendly. A
metallic ping, a toaster ejecting bread that warped in, echoing
noise as it spoke with a tiny bit of a smirk.
Speaker 4: What in the Samaraimi able to bullshit?
Speaker 7: Is this.
Speaker 2: Jesus listening? You call me back your warm.
Speaker 5: To warn you Jesus dick, that Dickey waiting.
Speaker 4: I guess that makes three of us.
Speaker 6: That life, who sort of fly, who couldn't keep one?
Speaker 5: Holy people you ever loved are already rocky.
Speaker 4: And at least they listened.
Speaker 6: Like of me.
Speaker 1: Something wasn't there, something still making noise? The muck gave
a way before her nerve and beyond it the bathroom
door closed waiting.
Speaker 4: Susan, no God, damn it, no, no hack fuck. This
episode is made possible by listen like you, visit our
website at lifdesign dot net. Forward slash Excuse Us.
Speaker 1: For support or additional information, please visit our website or
Patreon page at patreon dot com. Forward Slash rod.
Speaker 4: Bull Art Tonight's production of Excuse Us, a mystery drama
with delightful undertones of humor and Eldridge horror.
Speaker 1: What's produced by Rebecca Lakepool and Rodrigo Pool, Written and
directed and performed by Rodrigo Pool in association with R
and R Side Audio Theater.
Speaker 4: 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.
Speaker 1: Check out our Patreon page for bonus content.
Speaker 4: Until next time, this is Rodrigo
Speaker 1: Pool saying thank you very much for listening