Speaker 1: What the fuck what happened here?
Speaker 2: Oh?
Speaker 1: Holy?
Speaker 3: Thomas stood over Doris' lifeless body, guns still in hand.
The air was thick with the sharp scent of gunpowder
and something heavier. Finality, there was no room for misinterpretation.
The scene spoke for itself. Thomas exhaled, sharply, dragging a
hand down his face.
Speaker 1: Well, damn, what the hell happened here?
Speaker 4: Do you want to get out of this bunker or not? Yes,
you shut the fuck up and move.
Speaker 3: He stepped into the elevator, swiping his master key card
with a practiced flick. The doors slid shut behind them,
locking the world of gunfire and corpses on the other side.
A low, mechanical hum filled the small space as they
began their slow ascent.
Speaker 2: We're deep up the ground, so this this might take
a while.
Speaker 3: Miss d shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the numbers, slowly ticking up.
The weight of what just happened, of what was still happening,
pressed down like the walls were shrinking in. Then, with
the kind of reckless impulse that comes from either shock
or sheer defied.
Speaker 1: She muttered, you hear the one about this skeleton who
walked into a bar.
Speaker 4: A shit.
Speaker 3: The dimly lit corridors hum with the quiet thrumming of
generators as Thomas and mis d make their way through
the cold metal hallways of Terminal C. Their boots echo
against the steel floor as they ascend toward Terminal A,
where the final gateway to the surface lies. After six
long months, they're finally leaving the confines of blind corpse bunker.
Speaker 2: Okay, here we are the surface gate and I'll be
honest with you, Catherine.
Speaker 1: I'm ready. Six months down here, hidden away like lap rats.
Speaker 2: It's not exactly what you remember. Joy's bell isn't Joy's
bell a more.
Speaker 3: Thomas pulls a lever beside. The door in the metallic
barrier slides open with a loud hiss, revealing a dimly
lit passageway. They step into it together, beginning the steep ascent.
Along the way. She glances around, her expression unreadable.
Speaker 1: I'm fucking ready. He's like, We're about to merge into
a whole another realm, eh, another new world.
Speaker 5: You know.
Speaker 2: When it all started, when Joyceville was still standing, I
used to take my son to the ridge outside the town,
would sit there for hours, just talk about life, his dreams,
about his favorite thing.
Speaker 4: Minecraft.
Speaker 2: The kid could spend all day building these worlds, you know,
entire towns from scratch. He'll always say, Dad, when I
grew up, I want to I'm going to build a city,
just like Joyce Bell, but even better.
Speaker 1: He sounds like a bride kid. Minecraft. Huh. Dylan loved
that game too. I mean, my nephew, my niece, They
them Dylan. He used to spend hours building these incredible landscapes.
He talk about it like it was real, like like
he could walk around it himself. I guess that's that's
something a lot of hits love. Huh, just just a creativity.
Speaker 4: Yeah.
Speaker 2: It's funny standing in this world now. It's almost like
like I'm the one in one of those games. Everything
broken down, covered in ash and dust, a waste land,
but with the same eerie quiet that comes after you
start a new level.
Speaker 4: Nothing feels quite real.
Speaker 1: This isn't a game anymore, Thomas. You know the better
than anyone. Every step we take, it's it's real. The
consequence is just sacrifices no more.
Speaker 3: They continue in silence, the weight of her words settling in.
The final gate creaks open and they step out onto
the barren landscape. The remnants of Joyceville sprawled out before them,
a twisted, burnt skeleton of the town it once was.
Buildings lie in shambles, cars overturned and half buried in rubble.
Thick gray ash clings to everything, swirling in the slight breeze.
Speaker 5: Welcome to Excuses. The podcast appeals back the layers of
a small town life, uncovering the hidden horrors lurking just
beneath the surface of Joyceville, North Carolina, and the tale
of a quaint little diner to the chilling corporate secrets
of blind Corn. This is in your ordinary postpocalyptic 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.
The let to Joy spills 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 just say a rather twisted sense of humor is
intended that the indiscretion is definitely advised.
Speaker 2: God, it's worse than I thought, it looks exactly the
same and completely untouched.
Speaker 4: But it is a fucking ghost.
Speaker 3: Down He takes a deep, shaky breath, steadying himself. She
watches his reaction with a quiet, almost calculating gaze, but
her expression softens just enough to show a flicker of
her own pain. They walk on, picking their way through
the ruins, careful with every step. The wind howls through
the remnants of buildings, carrying distant echoes of a once
thriving town.
Speaker 2: You know, my son, you'd probably think this is some
kind of adventure like those posts apocalyptic mods who used
to install. He'd laugh and tell me he would repel
to it and would make something new from the ground up.
Kids have the way of seeing hope even when there
is none to be found.
Speaker 1: Sometimes they are wiser than us, see im possibilities that
instead of ruins, you know, maybe maybe there's something left
here with worth hauling, you know, Or maybe we just
we just created our new one ourselves, like the game.
Speaker 3: They approach what's left of the Super Awesome Diner. It's
once vibrant nineteen fifties exterior, now crumbled and gray. The
neon sign is shattered. One letter hanging by a wire,
flickering faintly in the ash choked daylight. The tables are overturned,
counters scorched, as if a bomb had gone off in
the heart of Joyceville's last refuge.
Speaker 2: It's strange, Seanna, like this, this place was a symbol.
People would come here to escape, and even if it
was just for a meal, a little piece of the past. Oh,
it's just gone.
Speaker 1: The past has a way of catching up, doesn't it.
Sometimes it even has teeth. But maybe that's why we're here.
Maybe this is where at all again.
Speaker 3: She runs a hand over the rubble eyes distant, haunted.
Thomas notices her expression, a shadow of something deeper than
he understands.
Speaker 2: You really care about this place, didn't you. I mean
then always seems.
Speaker 4: So grounded here, like this diner was more than just
a building to you.
Speaker 1: It was it it is you know. It was her
dream to make something, to create a space where people
felt safe. I think it was her way of giving back.
Maybe she thought if people had a place to gather,
a place to feel human, it keeps the darkness out.
But it didn't, Thomas, didn't it.
Speaker 2: Well, if there is any way to honor that dream
and und like to try. After everything we've seen. I
don't want it old to gold for nothing.
Speaker 1: Ah, it won't be for nothing. Sometimes to make something new,
you have to burn the old to the ground.
Speaker 3: Thomas looks at her, puzzled by her tone, but she
simply smiles, a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.
The moment stretches heavy and unspoken between them. They stand
together in silence, each lost in their thoughts. Around them,
the ruins of Joyceville lie quiet and still, the ghosts
of the past hanging heavy in the air. She stands
up and walk away. Thomas remains seated, with his sight
fixed on the horizon, lost in thought. The air is stale,
filled with the scent of old grease, and something sharper, darker,
a lingering reminder of what the diner has witnessed. Thomas
stands by a worn, battered counter, staring down at scattered
files and notes, the remnants of his desperate search for answers.
He's tense, his jaw clenched, his eyes flickering with frustration
and exhaustion. Behind him, the door creaks open, and Miss
d enters, her footsteps soft but purposeful.
Speaker 4: To You're long enough to get here. Where did you go?
Speaker 5: Well?
Speaker 1: You know how it is, you know, somebody loose ends
to tie up these days, things to see, people to
say hi to, you know, thanks to Bernaut.
Speaker 3: Thomas finally looks up, studying her face, searching for a
glimmer of the kindness he thought he knew. But her
expression is unreadable, poised, and somehow colder than he remembers.
Speaker 2: We have lost almost everything six months down here, digging lies,
loosing good people, Doris, and for what? Every time I
think of those clothes to the truth, it slips right
through my fingernails.
Speaker 4: But you, you always seem to know just a little more
than you're letting on, don't you, Misty?
Speaker 3: She meets his gaze, unflinching, and there's a subtle shift,
a flicker of something predatory, like a shadow passing over
her face. Her lips curve into a faint smile.
Speaker 1: I know what I need to know, and I know
what I know, Thomas. The things that we've done, the
choices we've made, they're all just part of the bigger picture.
And isn't that what you've been searching for? The bigger picture?
Speaker 2: Funny, You've always had the right words the perfect stories.
Will you talk about this staff, the little anecdotes about
the diner, even Dylan? It is too perfect, isn't it?
Like you've been rehearsing it.
Speaker 3: A stillness settles between them. Miss D doesn't look away,
her expression shifting ever so slightly, an almost imperceptible twitch
at the corner of her mouth. She lets out a
small sigh, her eyes sharpening.
Speaker 1: You think you're clever, don't you. You always wanted the truth,
but you're not prepared for it, Thomas, because you're too
wrapped up in what you expect to find. That's not
how you look for the truth, Thomas. You don't look
for it. You'll want the answers to be you look
for the answers.
Speaker 4: So tell me.
Speaker 2: Then, enough games, enough whispers, Why don't you just say it?
Speaker 3: Miss D holds his gaze, the faintest hint of a
smirk creeping across her lips, and she crosses her arms,
standing taller, her postures shifting into something almost regal.
Speaker 1: Fine, since you're so desperate to know, Catherine, Lindy is
nothing more than a sweet little diner owner stuck in
her small, comfortable night. But me, I'm Katherine Susan Dee.
Speaker 3: Thomas's eyes widen, his mind racing to piece together the implications.
He takes an involuntary step back, his breathing shallow, as
if he's just glimpsed something monstrous.
Speaker 4: Why go through all of this pretending to be her,
playing me, play him to everyone?
Speaker 1: Oh, Thomas Thomas, you don't even see the real tragedy here,
do you.
Speaker 6: I didn't do this for you. I did this for Dylan,
for Dylan Dylan.
Speaker 4: But they thought that, they thought their mother was dead.
He died.
Speaker 2: They died in the middle of the whole thing. They
couldn't experience any of the things that happened. Unless the
timeline is completely wrong.
Speaker 1: Because as far as he knew, as far as she knew,
she was Gatherine Lindy, She's nothing to him, not really.
But me, I was the one who watched him. I
am who knew him before than anyone ever would ever
and is something that will haunt me for the rest
of my time, knowing he was out there lost while
I was buried in blank Orb's web of flies. But
make no mistake, Thomas, Dylan, maybe my son, maybe them
the ones that I'll burn every bridge and every memory
to get what I've I'm owed from Blank Corp.
Speaker 3: There's a silence thick with the weight of her revelation.
Thomas takes another step back, his face twisted in shock
and betrayal, but before he can respond, Susan's demeanor shifts
once again, cold, calculating business like.
Speaker 1: Enough of this, you want it, answers Thomas, and now
you have them. But you're not nearly as useful to
me as you once were. So fuck off.
Speaker 3: She gestures to the small, unassuming door on the side,
beckoning him to step through. Thomas hesitates, his instincts telling
him something is wrong, but he's too shaken to resist.
It's only when he takes a step forward that he
feels the cold press of metal against his ribs. Susan stands, firm,
his own gun now in her steady grip.
Speaker 4: What's what are you planning?
Speaker 1: You'll see soon enough. Just step inside.
Speaker 3: She holds the door open, her expression unreadable. Reluctantly, Thomas
walks through, and as he turns, she closes the door
behind him with a soft click. The lock engages, and
he realizes too late that he's been trapped. He lunges
for the door, banging against it as Susan watches him
from the other side of the glass, her face hard, unyielding.
Speaker 1: Catherine Lynd had always been the wild one, long before
blind corp had its grip on her life, long before
the quiet streets of Joyceville would echo her name in whispers.
She was a girl with a penchant for trouble and
a talent for finding it. She was the eldest d born,
with a fiery spirit, a quick wit, and an undeniable
knack for mischief. But that same spark that made her
bold also made her reckless, and it wasn't long before
her choices began to carve a path of mistakes that
would shadow her for years to come. In her formative years,
Catherine struggled to find a sense of purpose. She had dreams,
of course, big and burning, but direction was another matter.
Entirely school bored, her work felt like a cage, and
anything that even hinted at structures seemed like an insult
to her freedom. So she chased thrills instead, indulging in
a string of parties, late nights and friends who laughed
a little too hard and stayed out a little too late.
She fell in with crowds who welcomed her with open arms,
crowds that embraced her impulsiveness without judgment. They were a
patchwork of outcasts and rebels, bound by an unspoken camaraderie that,
to Catherine felt like home. But home is not always safe.
It was during these years that she had her first
brush with the law, a small crime, a misdemeanor, a
night in a cell that should have scared her straight,
but only emboldened her. After all, she had her family's resources,
her parents' money, and the d name to pull her
out of any trouble she found herself in, until those
strings began to fray. One night of bad choices became another,
until she was tangled in a web of close calls,
mistakes piling upon mistakes, the trouble, the misdemeanors, the downward
spiral of late nights and lost days. Each took a
toll on her, chipping away at the girl who once
held boundless dreams. Meanwhile, in stark contrast, her younger sister, Susan,
was ascending through the ranks of blind corpse with an
ease that felt almost otherworldly. Susan, the bright Star, the
pride of the d family, a scientist, a visionary, working
on projects so top secret that even whispers about them
were enough to make one feel exposed. Catherine envied her,
hated her brilliance sometimes, but she couldn't ignore the love
she had for her sister. There was a fierce bond
between them that years of resentment couldn't break. They were
two sides of the same coin, and though Catherine's life
was in shambles, Susan never abandoned her. But there came
a point when even Catherine knew she couldn't keep going
like this. She was worn down by her own chaos,
haunted by the wreckage she'd left in her wake, failed relationships,
broken friendships, a reputation that preceded her wherever she went.
Her life felt like a series of dead ends. Every
opportunity turned to ash, and then came the last straw,
a night she would never fully remember, but one that
left her standing alone, empty and afraid. Catherine knew she
needed to change, but the question was how. It was
Susan who offered her a way out, a chance at redemption,
when she could see no path forward on her own.
Behind the closed doors of Blind Corp, Susan pulled strings,
bending the rules for her sister. Just this once, she
managed to secure Catherine a place in the Super Awesome
Diner program, a modest position, but it was a lifeline,
a fresh start. Owning a diner wasn't the dream she'd
imagined for herself, but it was something solid, something that
could ground her in a way she hadn't known she needed,
And so Catherine took the opportunity, humbled and hopeful, ready
to prove to herself, to Susan, to everyone that she
could change. The Super Awesome became her sanctuary. It was
a throwback to a different time, a nostalgic tribute to
classic Americana, with chrome booths, neon signs, and a promise
of simplicity. She threw herself into it with an energy
she hadn't felt in years. She learned every menu item
by heart, took pride in the diner's signature Awesome Fries,
and for the first time in her life, felt a
sense of real accomplishment. The locals began to recognize her face,
trust her, even call her Miss d with a kind
of affection that felt foreign and warm. She had traded
wild nights for early mornings, late night parties for last
call orders, of pancakes and coffee. In that diner, Catherine
rebuilt herself. She learned patience, resilience, and found peace in
the routine of small, everyday moments. She was finally becoming
the woman she had always wanted to be, and she
thought she'd left her dark past behind. But shadows have
a way of catching up, and Catherine's was no exception.
Unbeknownst to her, Blind Corp's reach was far darker and
far deeper than she had ever imagined. She had always
known that Susan's work was shrouded in secrecy, that Blind
Corp Was involved in things the average person couldn't fathom.
But she had trusted her sister, even when rumors began
to spread through Joyceville, even when whispers of audience members
and strange happenings around town grew louder, she never suspected
her sister's hand in the darkness that was slowly creeping
over her new life. Then came the night it all unraveled,
The night when audience members came knocking at her diner's doors,
shambling broken figures with vacant eyes and a hunger that
seemed endless. The Hawk virus Blind corpse twisted experiment had
reached its crescendo, and Joyceville was the stage. Catherine had
always called them zombies, but she would never know that
her sister, susan In preferred to call them her audience.
The diner was overrun in minutes. Catherine fought as best
as she could, barricading doors using kitchen utensils as weapons,
but she was no match for the swarm that poured in,
relentless and inhuman. In her final moments, as the last
semblance of safety crumbled around her, she could barely make
sense of the betrayal. Blind Corp had infected the town,
poisoned the water, unleashed horror on the very people they
claimed to serve, and at the heart of it, her sister,
Her brilliant, successful, beloved sister, had been complicit in a
brutal twist of fate. Catherine met her end not by
the hands of strangers, but by the creatures her sister's
ambition had wrought. As the audience members closed in, tearing
down the walls of the diner she had come to love,
she fought with a desperation born from knowing this was
it that her redemption would go unfinished. Her last thoughts,
bitter and heart broken, were of Susan and the lie
she had built her new life upon. In the end,
Catherine Lynde, a woman who had finally found purpose in
the ruins of her past, perished in the very diner
that had been her salvation, surrounded by shadows, an audience
in every sense, an unwilling participant in blind corpse experiment.
She died not knowing the full extent of her sister's betrayal,
but feeling in her final moments the sting of it.
For Joyceville, her death would be just another tragedy, another
victim of the virus that swept through their town. But
for Susan d it was a reckoning, a silent, haunted
reminder that the path to power was littered with blood,
and sometimes that blood belonged to the ones you loved
the most. This episode is made possible by listeners like you.
Visit our website at lifdesign dot net, Forward slash Excuse Us.
Speaker 3: For support or additional information, please visit our website or
Patreon page at patreon dot com. Forward slash rod pull.
Speaker 1: Art Tonight's production of Excuse Us, a mystery drama with
delightful undertones of humor and Eldrich horror.
Speaker 3: 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 1: Music and sound effects by Epidemic Sound. Some all the
sound effects 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 3: Check out our Patreon page for bonus content.
Speaker 1: Until next time, this is Rodrigo
Speaker 3: Paul saying thank you very much for listening