The Amelia Project - Episode 14 - Venerio
Episode Date: July 19, 2019“That I am willing to leave the lagoon to meet you, demonstrates how desperate I am.” Episode 14, beginning of Season 2. With: Alan Burgon, Mario Vernazza, Benjamin Noble, Torgny G. Aandero, Gemm...a Arrowsmith, Gianluca Iumiento, Ravdeep Singh Bajwa, Julia Morizawa and Chiara Fumanti. Written by Philip Thorne. Directed by Philip Thorne and Oystein U. Brager. Music and sound design by Fredrik Baden. For full credits see our website. The Amelia Project is an audio fiction series. We recommend starting at the beginning. Congratulations. You’ve reached the content warning. The Amelia Project is about death, mishaps, mayhem and misfortune. And cocoa. If you’re not comfortable with this, stop listening. Now. The Amelia Project is part of the Fable & Folly Network. Find and support our sponsors at: fableandfolly.com/partners Website: ameliapodcast.com Twitter: @amelia_podcast Patreon: patreon.com/ameliapodcast Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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Hello, I'm Philip, and I'm so excited that we're back with Season 2.
Welcome.
Just a couple of things before we start.
This season starts off where the Season 1 finale left off,
so for all new listeners, it's not essential to have listened to Season 1,
but we do recommend starting at the beginning. We also recommend you stick around beyond the credits of each episode so you don't miss the epilogue. Now, we're doing something new for season two, which we're
extremely excited about. You may remember that for season one, we created case files for our
patrons. These contained written stories and documents and puzzles
delving deeper into each episode.
For season two, we've decided that instead of written case files,
we're making audio minisodes to follow up on each case.
You can listen to these by becoming a patron of the show.
More info on that at the very end.
But for now, without further ado, let's get started with The Amelia Project Season 2.
Congratulations. You've reached The Amelia Project.
This phone call isn't happening.
If you're not serious about this, hang up.
Now.
You sure about this?
If you hesitated, do not proceed.
Still there?
If you continue, there's no way back.
The choice is yours.
Good choice.
A new life awaits.
You'll hear back from us within the hour.
If you do not hear back, please consider the whole thing a hoax.
Leave your message after the beep.
My name is Verio Lavalle.
That I am willing to leave the lagoon to meet you
demonstrates how desperate I am.
I have a big task,
and I believe you are the only people who can make this happen.
I look forward to hearing from you. The Amelia Project by Philip Thorne and Oistein Braga
with music and sound design by Frederik Baden Episode 14 Venereo da Vale E' in ritardo, dovrebbe arrivare fra circa dieci minuti, non lo so.
Un altro po' di caffè, signor Davalle?
Sì, grazie.
Sucro?
Grazie, no.
Bravo!
Lo zucchero è per qualche acquano.
Niente batte un buon caffè italiano proprio quello che ci vuole
viaggio lungo?
lungo è brutto
ma qui piove sempre così?
oh l'Inghilterra è una bozzanghera
ma voi di dove siete?
da Venezia
ah ora capisco questa maschera ridicola
è un ignorante.
Stai zitto, bastardo.
Ma la tua faccia sembri familiare.
No, impossibile.
Ma non sei stato nei giornali? Venezia is Venice. Shall we get a translator? I don't want anyone else involved. Not yet.
Right.
Well, it's probably not important.
Probably not.
Let's hope they switch to English soon.
Yeah.
Adesso ricordo.
Io so che sei.
No, no, si sbaglia, si sbaglia.
Oh, una memoria eccellente.
Guardi che se non la smette se ne pentirà, eh?
Angelo Russo
e Mario Drago
Salvatore
vieni che qui c'ho
la mazza da baseball
sì
no
sì o no
sì
va bene
fammi vedere il palo
I am the last true Venetian mask maker.
Go back.
Sorry, sorry, sorry.
Sorry, lousy weather.
I'm drenched.
Don't speak to him.
What's got into you?
They've had a bit of a shock.
Joey, Salvatore, pull yourselves together.
We pay you to look tough.
The moment you look about as tough as a pair of wilting daisies.
He's the diavolo.
That's no way to speak to our clients.
Out, both of you.
Now.
Pronto. Out, both of you. Now. Pronto.
You obviously got under their skin.
I'm used to people hating me.
The curse of the messenger.
Are you going to keep that thing on?
I always wear the mask.
Always?
Si.
Even when you're having a shower?
I always wear the mask.
It's creepy.
It's the mask of death.
It looks like a strange bird.
It was worn by the Venetian plague doctors.
They stuffed the beak with spices and rose petals to purify the air.
Are you a doctor?
I'm a mask maker.
Much demand for masks is there?
Oh, these days it's mostly for tourists and the carnival.
These days?
Before, back when Venice was a republic,
masks were an essential part of everyday life.
You see, Venice is a small city.
Everyone knows each other.
That can be stifling.
Masks allow
us to change our identity, to act
more freely. I'd have thought
it was against the law to conceal your identity.
Not at all.
It was a legal requirement for participating
in democracy.
How so? Debates,
votes, vetoes were all carried out by masked
citizens. It put everyone
on a level playing field.
Men, women, masters and servants.
A city of masks.
Of course, it also led to crime and sexual experimentation.
We became the capital of excess.
Citizens able to hide, change, disappear, reappear and control their identity.
Interesting.
I thought that would appeal to you.
I'd be out of a job.
You speak about this time almost as if you knew it.
I love Venice.
I love its traditions.
That's why I continue to wear the mask.
I am the last true Venetian mask maker. Talking about sensual excess...
Oh, I like where this is going. Do you like cocoa? Cioccolata calda. Café Florian does the best
cioccolata calda in the world. It's so thick, your spoon stands upright in it. Café Florian? On Piazza San Marco.
Come to Venice and I'll show you.
Oh, tempting.
Have you ever been to Paris?
No.
The cocoa from Les Deux Margaux is to die for.
Would you like to try some?
Si, grazie.
Mmm.
Ah, it's divine.
Ah, it's angelic.
Ah, it's transcendente.
It's immaculate.
This must be what they serve in paradise.
Mmm. There's an excavator.
It's like shite.
I know.
What do you think the chances are of getting a decent hot chocolate around here?
Well, I know they have some.
At the canteen.
Any good?
I've never tried it.
Well, I think we should.
Yes.
Nancy, bring us two hot chocolates would you
and before you come in
knock
hot chocolate's coming
let's carry on
is Venice still sinking
nobody really knows
probably
and now the sea is rising.
One way or another, the city will disappear in the next few decades.
Cathedrals, churches, towers and palaces built on the sea.
It has always been an ephemeral city.
Do you think there is anything you can do to stop Venice sinking?
Do you think there is anything you can do to stop death?
Are you going to answer Venice sinking? Do you think there is anything you can do to stop death? Are you going to answer my question?
What question? I just asked you a question. About death. Oh, I thought that was rhetorical.
It wasn't. Is there anything you can do to stop death? I thought you were implying that just like death, the sinking of Venice is inevitable.
Is that what you think?
You think it isn't?
No.
I'm sorry, what are we talking about? Death or Venice?
Death.
Well, death is inevitable.
I don't want to die.
Well, that's unusual.
Really? Fear of death is quite universal.
I mean our clients usually come here because they want to die.
No. They come here because they want to escape.
Ah, you want to escape?
Yes.
Who's after you?
Death.
Sorry?
I need to disappear so death can't find me. Can you arrange that?
Come in, Nancy.
Two hot chocolates.
Ah.
They didn't have any at the canteen, so I got some from the machine instead.
Thank you, Nancy.
Here you go.
Thank you.
It's, er...
Be honest.
It's basically just sweet brown water.
Oh, I think I preferred the Nescafé.
Do you think if we went to Les Deux Margaux,
we could chalk it up as research?
Have you ever been to Venice?
Once.
In August.
It was scorching hot, crammed with tourists,
and the canal stank like rotting corpses. You? In the winter. It was scorching hot, crammed with tourists, and the canal stank like rotting corpses.
You?
In the winter. It was flooded. They made walkways from planks to get across the piazzas,
and everyone was wearing orange wellies. It was so foggy you could barely see more than a few
meters ahead.
I'm not going to finish this.
Me neither.
I'm not going to finish this.
Me neither.
Look here, Venereo.
If you want to escape death for as long as possible,
I suggest you go for a jog every morning,
eat nothing but fish and broccoli,
avoid crossing the road and don't finish that cocoa.
Eating broccoli isn't going to stop a marble cherub detaching itself from Basilica di San Marco's ceiling
and come crashing down on my skull.
Who said anything about a marble cherub?
That's how I die.
Tomorrow at ten past five.
And no amount of push-ups or beetroot smoothies will change that.
And how do you know this?
Another ancient Venetian skill.
You can predict death?
To the second.
Wow!
Can you predict my death?
If you want me to.
I do.
Lots of people are afraid to know.
Why? Isn't it better to find out now?
Then I can stop worrying about it.
A momentary shock is better than years of anxiety.
If I know I'll die when I'm 60, 70, 80 or 90,
I can just get on with my life.
I can plan.
Make sure I do the things I want to do and don't waste time. You might die
next week. In which case, I'm on the
next plane to Paris to blow my life savings
on Coco.
Would you want to know?
Hmm.
My best mate had his
stag party in Liverpool.
It was 4am and we were among a handful of people in a strip club.
I was feeling tired and drunk and dirty and I just wanted to go home.
But I was my mate's best man and he was trying to make the night last.
Eventually, it was just the two of us and this other dude I hardly knew
when this old lady came over to our table.
She was all wrinkled and she had rotting teeth and we were scared that she was going to offer us a lap dance.
Luckily she didn't.
She said she was a fortune teller.
For 20 quid she could predict our deaths.
We were wasted and we thought it would be hilarious.
This dude that I hardly knew, he followed her into a corner and we watched her stroke his palm and whisper into his ear.
It took quite a long time.
And when he came back, he was pale.
He just grabbed his jacket and left without saying a word.
What happened to him?
He died of a brain tumour, two months later.
Oh.
Did you get your own prediction?
Not after I saw that guy's reaction, no.
It spooked me, to be honest. I was instantly sober.
What about your mate?
Oh.
He was still in high spirits, and I couldn't dissuade him.
What did she say to him?
I watched her stroke and whisper and...
This time it took even longer.
And when he came back...
He was in an even better mood than before.
He literally hugged and kissed me on the mouth.
Good news, then.
She told him that he'd lived
for a hundred and twenty years.
Wow.
He was high as a kite.
He downed a bottle of vodka. He danced
on the table. He touched up all the girls.
He put a round for everyone in the bar.
There was no
stopping him.
I managed to drag him out just
as the sun started to rise.
It was a new day and he felt...
invincible.
He skipped onto the road without looking left or right
and was hit by a bus.
No.
Did he die?
Miraculously, no.
But he's completely paralysed. He can't move anything but his eyelids
Oh
This was 20 years ago
I still visit him
Once a month
Shit
Yes
I wouldn't want to know
Me neither.
Oh. Continue.
Let's.
Your mom hates it when you leave six half-full glasses on your nightstand.
It's a good thing mom lives on the other side of the country.
And it's an even better thing that you can get six IKEA 365 Plus glasses for just $9.99.
So go ahead. You can afford to because ikea is priced for student life shop everything you need for back to school
at ikea today venerio why do you need us if you know how you'll die you can escape your death on
your own death by marble cherub plummeting 43 meters is a pretty hard
thing to fake. Well, don't go to the Basilica. Go to Café Forian instead. Or even better,
stay here for a few days. Here? Blighty's not so bad. I can't do that. Why not? Do you
know the story Appointment in Samara? I don't. It's an ancient Mesopotamian tale.
Will you tell it to me? I love stories.
Can I have some more cocoa first?
Certainly.
Okay.
Hit me.
Once there was a merchant in Baghdad who sent his servant to the market to buy provisions.
A little while later the servant came back, white and trembling, and said,
Master, just now when I was at the marketplace I was jostled by a woman in the crowd,
and when I turned I saw it was death that jostled me.
She looked straight at me and made a threatening gesture.
Lead me your horse, and I will ride away from this city and avoid my fate.
I will go to Samara, and there death will not find me.
The merchant lent the servant his horse,
and the servant mounted it and dug his spurs in its flanks and went as fast as a horse could gallop.
The merchant went down to the marketplace,
and there he saw death standing in the crowd.
He went up to death and said,
Why did you make a threatening gesture to my servant
when you saw him this morning?
That was not a threatening gesture, said death.
It was only a start of surprise.
I was astonished to see him here in Baghdad
for I have an appointment with him tonight
in Samarra. It's a nice story him here in Baghdad. For I have an appointment with him tonight. In Samara.
It's a nice story. But the message is depressing. It's saying death can't be cheated.
Oh, but it can.
Not according to the story.
I was trying to make the point that you can't cheat death through geographical distance.
If death wants me at Basilica di San Marco tomorrow at ten past five, it will find a way to get me there.
Oh, here's a thought, Venereo.
Strip naked, stand outside Downing Street wearing only your mask,
and lob fireworks at number ten.
What? Will that solve anything?
I'd like to see fate try and drag you out of Pentaville Prison.
No, I mustn't put up any resistance.
Why not? Make death work for it. Put up a fight.
I don't want to aggravate
death. Death doesn't give a tinker's toss about our feelings. I mustn't behave as though I know.
So what? You just wander into St. Mark's Basilica. In the full knowledge, a cherub
will come crashing down on your head. Yes, I play along until the last minute.
What happens in the last minute? That's where you come in. We do? I need you to fulfill the demands of fate,
but in a way that doesn't actually bludgeon me to death.
Can you do that?
You want us to detach a statue from the basilica ceiling?
If it's going to happen anyway, you might as well control it.
You seriously believe death can be duped with a papier-mâché cherub?
If you make it authentic enough,
a big crash, a destruction to the floor,
a crushed corpse, screaming tourists,
then yes, I think
death will be convinced I'm gone.
I think you underestimate death.
Do you know how busy death is?
153,424 people die every day.
That's one person every second.
Do you think death can hang around to check every pulse?
As long as my demise seems routine, death will simply tick me off the list and move on.
You sound very sure of yourself. I'm not. I've never attempted anything on this scale before.
But you've done it, haven't you? You've escaped death.
Yes.
How many times?
How many times?
I've lost count.
And when you reappear?
I wear a new mask.
Do you ever intend to die for real?
Yes, I do.
I've lived in Venice for centuries.
I can't imagine living anywhere else.
When Venice drowns, I go with it.
I think we need to add destruction of cultural heritage to the list of Amelia offences.
They prevented a real cherub from shattering.
They destroyed 20 square metres of mosaic They prevented a real cherub from shattering. They destroyed twenty
square metres of mosaic floor
and saved one cherub.
They also saved a life.
I wonder
if that clown is still alive.
If he's not, it means
we can't change fate, after all.
What do you think?
Do you believe in free will?
I have no choice.
We're going to have to make up with Joey and Salvatore.
They'll pose as restoration specialists from Rome, brought in to inspect the Basilica ceiling.
Joey and Salvatore? Ah, you mean Mario Drago and Angel Rosso?
Shh!
Is that what spooked them? You know who they really are?
No. I predicted their deaths.
Oh, I see.
Well, a trip to Italy should cheer them up.
A few shots of grappa and they'll be right as rain.
We don't have much time. Death is expecting me.
First, we need to seal the deal with a bottle of bubbly.
But...
It's tradition.
The next plane to Marco Polo Airport is in under two hours.
I see.
Passports, check.
Toothbrush, check.
Maltesers, check.
I'm good to go.
Do they serve champagne on the plane?
They do, but it tastes like piss.
In that case, we'll buy a bottle of Vouvclico at duty free.
When he's done, I'll take you to Café Florian
and predict your death over a cioccolata calda.
Oh, sounds wonderful.
Venezia, arriviamo.
Venezia, arriviamo.
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This episode was written and edited by Philip Thorne. It was directed by Philip Thorne and Einstein Breger,
with music and sound design by Frederick Barden.
It featured Alan Bergen as the interviewer,
Mario Vernazza as Venerio, Benjamin Noble as Agent Haynes, Torgny G. Ondero as Agent Cole,
Gemma Arrowsmith as Nancy, Gianluca Yumiento as Joey, Ravdeep Singh Bajwa as Salvatore,
Julia Morizawa on the answer phone,
and coming up, the voice of Chiara Fermanti.
The episode was produced by Imploding Fictions.
It was recorded at the Bridge Writing Studio in London
and Spike City Studio in Oslo
and engineered by Sam Harper and Robert Rustad Amundsen.
All graphic design for the Amelia Project
is by Anders Pedersen.
A special thank you to Kati Zindelar
for your generous support.
Follow us on Twitter,
where we're at Amelia underscore podcast.
And check out our webpage at ameliapodcast.com
for release schedule, merchandise, fan art and more.
All links also in the show notes to this episode.
The next episode will come out next week
and after that there will be new episodes every two weeks.
It's good to be back. See you soon.
Your chocolate calda.
Oh, thank you.
Very quiet today.
Well, you know what happened, no?
At the Basilica.
Yes.
Cherub crashed down from the ceiling.
Terrible.
Everyone has gone back to their homes and hotels.
Of course. I've never seen Piazza San Marco so empty. Terrible. Everyone has gone back to their homes and hotels.
Of course.
I've never seen Piazza San Marco so empty.
It's like...
Like a ghost town.
They say just one person was killed.
Just one person. A miracle.
The basilica was full of tourists.
I saw them running across the piazza, screaming.
You know what I thought?
I thought this is it.
The day has come.
Venice is sinking.
I don't know how you do it.
Do what?
Live in the constant knowledge that one day your streets, schools and churches will all be swallowed up.
Oggi in figura, domani in sepultura.
What does that mean?
Oh, it's an expression. It means today in person, tomorrow in the grave. Like that man in the basilica.
He walked in without a care in the world and after a few minutes he's crushed by a statue.
You never know which cup of chocolate calda will be your last.
Oh, excuse me, another customer.
Salve.
Salve. Cosa posso fare per lei?
Ho venuto qui per parlare con questo signore.
He says he knows you?
Oh, yes.
Yes, that's right.
Why don't you bring us another one of these cocos?
Of course.
Venerio, is it you?
Yes.
I like the new mask. Much jollier.
Until my next death, I shall be Arlecchino.
Arlecchino?
A Arlequin.
How's the chocolate a cal?
Oh.
Good.
All right.
Time for you to keep your part of the bargain.
You really want to know?
Yes.
You sure?
Yes.
Show me your palm.
Here you go.
Oh.
What?
Something wrong?
Venereo.
Let me see again.
Here.
Two chocolate caldas.
We need to talk in private.
Where should we go?
We'll go to my mask wash, Ponte Storto.
Can we go in a gondola?
How else?
You want to drink that cocoa?
Ah, right.
Let's go.
Let's go.
The Fable and Folly Network, where fiction producers flourish.
So this is the end of the world.
Pretty weird, right?
I'm Hannah.
I'm sure you've probably noticed by now.
I'm a zombie.
Might even be the last one.
From the creator of Redmond Bourne and Cybernautica.
I can't exactly control most of the things zombie me does.
I'm basically what amounts to a backseat driver in my own body.
You learn to kind of just go with it after a while, I think.
Like, do I feel bad for eating a family of four when I was new?
You bet.
Not exactly my favorite memory.
That's not exactly my favorite memory.
Hannah is living her best un-life,
while unknowingly being on a crash course with Callie,
an explorer desperately seeking to leave her mark on an American wasteland that seems to be all out of new discoveries.
One might say that it's the comics that got me into this,
but between you
and me, I'm gonna blame the
McSotas.
No sense in ruining everything I like in one day.
Together,
this unlikely pair team up against
the dangers of post-apocalyptia.
Okay.
Okay.
This thing is not playing around at all.
Shit, incoming!
Sometimes I miss the old days.
Killing zombies for upstart communities.
Now that was a lot more simple.
A lot more ethical, too.
Wouldn't you say so?
Don't you think it's a little more ethical to kill a zombie than just some stranger on the road?
Pan-Apocalypse. A story about love, death, and robots. Just not the next guy.