The Amelia Project - Episode 72 - The Man With Many Tattoos (Present)

Episode Date: September 15, 2023

"My passion for body art goes way back..." A break from our historical episodes. Mia, Jackie and Kozlowski need to gather wood for the dwindling fire. Cole and Haines must follow them. A journey into the forest, into the night, into memories... Featuring Hemi Yeroham, Erin King, Jordan Cobb, Benjamin Noble, Torgny G. Aanderaa. Written by Philip Thorne, directed by Philip Thorne and Oystein Ulsberg Brager, sound design by Alexander Danner, music by Fredrik Baden. Production assistance by Maty Parzival and graphic design by Anders Pedersen. This episode is dedicated to Sophy H. Website: https://ameliapodcast.com/  Transcripts: https://ameliapodcast.com/season-5  Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ameliapodcast Donations: https://ameliapodcast.com/support Merch: https://www.teepublic.com/stores/the-amelia-project?ref_id=6148 Twitter: https://twitter.com/amelia_podcast Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ameliapodcast/ Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/ameliapodcast Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Because the Skip app saves you so much time by delivering stuff like your favorite cool treats, groceries, and bevies, you get more time to have the best summer ever. Like riding roller coasters. Learning to water ski. Applying sunscreen to your dad's back. Yep, definitely the best summer ever. Squeeze more summer out of summer with skip did somebody say skip cold tapes a gripping crime story that will chill you to the bone you know life on the base means uh well it's close to six months without light that does things to people. That study that he was doing, to watch us and then set

off us like mice around this special little experiment. How many people are on this space? 16 on this one. Someone amongst them is our killer. Experience Cold Tapes, the murder mystery podcast game. Start your investigation where you get your podcasts. The Amelia Project would not be possible without the generous support of our patrons. This episode is dedicated to super patron Sophie H, who will be trampled to death by a herd of sheep in the Yorkshire village of Hutton-le-Hole and come back playing Groucho in a Marx Brothers tribute act. Enjoy the episode.

Fire is almost out. Yes, we need to gather more wood. Or, I was thinking, maybe we should go back to the car? Really, Mia? The car? You know, just turn it on, crank the heat, drive around a bit, get warm. That's not a bad idea, actually. Shit. How can we keep listening if they go to the car? Quick.

What? Back to the Nissan. We need to follow them. Wait. The surgeon might persuade them to stay. But if they go back to the car, we need to get there before they do. Shit. Shit. Shit! Got it.

What? You stay here. I'll go to the car. Cover all the bases. Yes. Yes. Good thinking. Yes. Good thinking. Why would you swap the starry firmament and the lapping waves for the drab interior of a car? Because I'm freezing my tits off.

Mia's got a point. It doesn't have to be long. We'll just drive around a bit until we're warm. Exactly. Aren't you cold? Very well. Yes. But only if I drive. What? You do remember that you're the criminal and we're the cops, right? I find that a very reductive way of looking at it. I have proved a very reliable chauffeur, have I not? What are you talking about? I guided you to this field without a hitch. I led you from 2001 to 1631 without hesitation, repetition, or deviation. Without deviation? That's rich. Oh, come on.

You have enjoyed my stories. You both have. I can see it in your eyes. No, it's strictly professional. So, can I drive? Can you drive? What do you mean? Do you have a license?

Do I have a license? Several. Of course you do. I mean a real license. A a license? Several. Of course you do. I mean, a real license. A real license? Well, I have been driving since Carl Benz patented his first internal combustion engine in 1886. When we ran the Daily Phoenix, we drove a magnificent St. Louis gasoline buggy, gifted to us by a Missouri mobster. And when was the last time you got behind the wheel?

Well, after Martha took over the company in 1937, my role was confined mostly to the lab, so... So you haven't driven for the past 80 years. High time to get back to it, do you not agree? Fine. But any funny business and... You will shoot, I know. I really thought we had got beyond that. Do we still have gummy bears in the car? I think we still have some.

What? Whoa! Oh, God! Haynes! Haynes, let me in! Haynes! Oh, Haynes, you pillock! He didn't take the keys! Where is he?

Heinz! Heinz, you big plonker, where did you go? Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, phone, phone, phone, phone. Come on, Haines. Pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up. You've reached Christopher Haines. Not available right now, but leave a message and I'll get back to you. Yeah, Haines, you pudding head, where are you? I'm in the car. Mia, Jackie and the surgeon have just gone into... They're off. They're off! I have to follow. Call me back, you great big burk! The The Amelia Project by Philipp Thorn and Oestern Ulsbeck-Braga

with music and sound direction by Frederik Baden and sound design by Alexander Danner Episode 72 The Man with Many Tattoos The Present. Careful! Oh, sorry. Slowly. It's pitch black out there. We don't want to run over an animal again.

Go! For fuck's sake! The clutch! You have to keep your foot on the clutch when you change gears. Clutch. Got it. This was a mistake. Now drive slowly and stick to first gear. First gear. got it. What gear am I in now? You're really bad at this, aren't you?

Cars are not what they used to be. So, what's next? What do you mean? What's the next story? Oh, no, no, no, not here. Yeah, to be honest, I really think you should be concentrating on the road, Jackie. We've only got to 1631, and by the sounds of it, we still have a lot to get through. As you very well know by now, I cannot tell my stories in any old place.

Setting is very important to me. We have gummy bears and heated seats. It doesn't get any better than this. The next story is about the greatest playwright that ever lived. You already told us about Moliere. Greater even than Moliere. Sorry, Bocala. His tale deserves a backdrop befitting his status. What's wrong with a Mitsubishi? If this was a stagecoach, a mountain wagon,

a steamroller, or possibly even a vintage Aston Martin... Are you kidding me? I'm sorry. I told you to stay in first gear. God damn it. I'm going to take over now. Give me one more chance. See?

I'm getting the hang of it. Is that a phone? Yeah. Yours? I don't think so. I thought mine was on silent. Can you pass my bag? Yeah, where's your... Don't worry about it. So, we're just going to drive around in silence? We could play riddles again.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no. Your riddles give me a headache. Or you could tell me a story. I did so enjoy when you told me your story on the drive here, Jackie. Wait, what? What'd you tell him? Nothing. She told me how, as a teenager, she attempted to fake her own death. Uh, that doesn't sound like nothing. I can't believe you didn't tell me that, Jackie. You were asleep. Maybe you have a story for us, Mia.

Mia? Why are you staring at me like that? Looking at your tattoos. Ah, you like them? Yeah, well, I figure if you're not going to tell us a story, we might as well try and decipher them. Ha! That sounds like a fun game. It sounds like another type of headache.

All right, on your left hand, there's a sort of robot insect, an ant. Then there's a dye on the other, bobble hat on the back of your neck, and is that the emblem of the Cosa Nostra? All right, I'm trying to think of what system to use. They're pictograms, but do they spell something when they're put in the right order?

Or, oh, oh, wait, the robot bug. That's a reference to Anthony Welby, isn't it? Ant, the entomologist who made the cybug the reason we found you in the first place. It is indeed. And wasn't there a client who made every decision by throwing a die? Richard. That's the die, then. Poor man. His life came to such a pointless end. I seem to remember he was a total psychopath. So all the tattoos are linked to clients. It's that simple? This should be easy. I thought it was going to be some bogus unsolvable riddle. So that person with the microphone sticking out of your sleeve, that's Thuggy Trashmouth.

He doesn't look much like a punk or like Elvis for that matter. You do not have the whole picture. What do you mean? Yeah, part of the tattoo is covered by his sleeve. May I roll it up a bit? Go ahead. Oh, you tickled me. Oh, sorry. Okay, no, but you gotta...

Like that. Come on, show me that tattoo again. There was something above the singer's head. It's a falling stage light. Oh, it's not a singer, it's Bob. The stand-up comedian. Who? Remember? I'm Bob.

Yeah, in the case files, the comedian who lost his sense of humor before hosting the Oscars and died by a plummeting spotlight. Oh, right. Well done, Mia. On your foot. I noticed this creepy mask with a long nose. That must be... Vanirio the Mask Maker. I was about to say that. That's 4-0 to Mia Fox. But you stole the last one.

You gotta be quicker. We're not competing anyway. We're competing against the tattoos. We're Team CIA against Team Crazy Surgeon. All right. Okay. Well, if that's how it is, then let's see you add to the team score then. Okay, I will. I've got one. The sarcophagus on your neck. I reckon that's... Cleopatra. Ah, wrong. That is Andy Spark. Who's that?

I don't know that name from the case file. He was a poet. Never heard of him. He was not very... good. And you faked his death using a sarcophagus? In the end, we chose another solution. The sarcophagus was merely a suggestion, but I already had the tattoo of a spaceship.

Spaceship? Oh yeah, there on your right hand. Why did you fake a poet's death using a spaceship? And if the spaceship on your hand isn't for the poet, who's it for? You faked another death by spaceship? Ha, Ross. Oh yeah, I got one. Yeah, I thought we were on the same team. I'm sorry to disappoint you, Jackie Williams. What? But you are wrong again. Oh. For Ross, I have an Area 51 road sign inked under my left nipple. The spaceship is for... That bonkers politician who was kidnapped by aliens before winning the election.

Bartholomew, fuckface, chucklepants, knucklecracker. Well done, Mia Fox. Oh, that's... Five nil. Whatever. What about the Katy Perry lyrics on your scalp? Is Katy Perry a former client? No.

I just really like Katy Perry. Hmm. We've deciphered a few, but... But? I'm just trying to figure out which of these are from cases we've already heard, and which ones are from stories still to come. Ah, these are all from very recent cases. Really?

Yes, from the last eight decades or so. So, you only started tattooing yourself this century? My passion for body art goes way back. But not tattoos. Hang on, that cabaret story in Berlin? Yes, what about it? I thought you said back then you were already fully inked. I was. That was...

1929? So your tattoos definitely go back further than 80 years. My current collection goes back 80 years. But there were others before. Many, many others. So you had the previous ones lasered off.

I would never remove a tattoo. Well, you say you've always had tattoos. Yet the tattoos we see are only 80 years old. So... So... So you must have removed them. No. Well, not exactly.

Stop being so fucking cryptic and explain. My skin regenerates. What? Skin is so fascinating, is it not? Um... The largest organ in our body, forever renewing itself, shedding old cells and revealing freshly grown ones underneath. Your skin does that?

Mine, yours, Mia's. Really? Oh, yes. In four weeks, your skin will have replaced itself completely. Cell by cell. You have new skin every month. Wow. You didn't know that, Jackie?

You did? Well, I've watched some skin care tutorials on YouTube, and it's kind of basic biology, really. Huh. What? Remember in my story, when I jumped into the lake to retrieve the necklace? No. I cut my leg on a rock. Every morning when I get dressed, I look at the scar and am reminded of that day.

With the lake, and the pendant, and the buck, and the diner. What is this story you told him? Anyway, in recent years, the scar has been fading. And then last week, I realized it has practically disappeared. There we have it. The regenerative power of the skin. Okay, but tattoos don't just vanish, do they? No! The ink is injected deep into the dermal layer, where regeneration happens much more slowly. Tattoos will fade with age, but in order for them to disappear completely, you would have to wait a very, very long time.

Huh. But because of your ridiculous age, you have been able to shed your tattoos. Interesting conjecture. But no. My regeneration works a little differently. How? That is part of a long story, and as we have established, a rented Mitsubishi

is not the place for a... Jesus! What? Bloody hell. What are they doing? You've reached Christopher Haynes. Not available right now. Christopher Nobhead Haynes. I'm having a poo right now.

Leave a message and I'll get back to you once I've wiped my ass. Pick up. Okay, gently release the clutch and step on the gas at the same time. Aha! Well done. Well, if life with the CIA ever becomes too perilous, I think you would make an excellent driving instructor. Thank you. Ah, that's that phone again, isn't it? ever becomes too perilous, I think you would make an excellent driving instructor.

Thank you. That's that phone again, isn't it? I really don't think it's mine. It's coming from the back, though. It must be in your bag. Where were we? We were talking about skin. How it regenerates. Ah, yes. And not just skin. Your whole body is reborn constantly. From your eyelashes to your esophagus. From your tonsils to your toenails.

How about a game? No riddles. A guessing game. I list parts of the body, and you guess how long it takes for their cells to replace themselves. Fun! Yes, I think so too. The liver.

No idea. Liver cells regenerate every 300 to 500 days. Bones! Bones? They regenerate too? Oh, yes. The entire skeleton is replaced every 10 years. Okay, now it's annoying me.

We have to find that phone. Could it have gotten stuck behind a seat? No. No, there's nothing back here. I really don't think it's mine. Mia, you're sure it's not yours? Yeah, no, it's definitely not mine. Mine is right here.

Kozlovsky? Yes? Do you have a phone? Me? Yes. When you escorted me out of that interrogation chamber, I was naked, remember? Where would I hide a phone? Well, you did hide a vial up your...

Clutch! Clutch! Managed. Whew. Cole, you have to stop calling. It's dark in here and I can't find the switch. They need to make it go silent. Dark, where the fuck are you? I'm in the boot.

In a boot? What are you, a gardener? No, no, no. I'm in the boot. I'm in the back of Mia and Jackie's car. You what? I picked the lock and got in the back of... Oh, look. I have to keep my voice down, okay? I heard you. It's just... Christ.

What are you doing in the back of me and Jackie's car? We agreed I should follow them, right? Yes, in the car. In our car. Yes. But I wanted to keep listening. We can't afford to lose any more of the story. And you can hear what they're saying from the boot of the car. Yes, but I want you to keep listening. We can't afford to lose any more of the story. And you can hear what they're saying

from the boot of the car? No, not really. Well, that was a great fucking plan, wasn't it? Oh, wait. What? I can hear something. Yes? Spleen. What?

I'm pretty sure the surgeon just said spleen. Oh, excellent work, Apes. Really, I can smell the promotion. Oh, look what you want me to do. I don't know. Just be less shit. Tosser. Tosser?

Tosser. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. If the entire body replaces itself... It does. The entire body? The matter you have now is different from the matter you had a second ago. And after years of constant change, not a single atom you have now is still present in you. But then, I mean, am I even still the same person as,

say, 13-year-old Jackie who tried to fake her own death? Huh. An interesting question. What do you think? Well, no. Because every part of me is new. Yeah, but it's still Jackie.

Is it? Of course it is. You know, Mia, I'm not so sure anymore. Jackie, stop it. Hmm. As you keep reminding me, you are officers of the law, are you not? What has that got to do with-

Now let us say a man robs a bank. Okay. Then he waits until all of his cells have renewed. He is now an entirely different man. Do you absolve him from responsibility? Of course not. But this man does not share a single atom with the man who robbed the bank. Well, who cares about his body? It's his intent that counts, right?

Aha! What? You are right, Mia Fox. I am? Jackie if you think of yourself as the lump of matter you inhabit then you are literally never you because the matter is constantly changing. So who am I? Another excellent question and one to which there are many answers. I would say... You are your memories. What do you mean?

The memory of your teenage death-faking prank, for example. Even though it was many years ago, you told it to me in such vivid detail. I remember it like it was yesterday. That story marked you. It marked you physically by leaving a scar, but more importantly, it left a mark on your memory. The scar may disappear, but the memory survives, regardless of how frequently your cells regenerate.

You are the collection of your memories. The collection of your stories, Jackie Williams. Huh. So this guy who robbed the bank? Yes. What if he lost all his memories and had absolutely no recollection of committing the crime? Like that murderer you told us about in the Baker Street story. Carl Granton.

If he got his memory wiped, wouldn't that wipe away the responsibility too? I mean, if your memories really do make you? Mia Fox. Secret agent. Driving instructor. Philosopher. I was just trying to think this through. And I applauded.

I must say, this car journey is turning out to be much more interesting than I anticipated. Again? Are you kidding me? Right. That's it. I'm taking over. You know, you might be good at mind games, but you do not know your way around a stick shift. While we are here... Yeah? This is an excellent spot for gathering firewood. How do you know?

As I have told you, this forest holds a special place in my heart. And when were you here last? Back when you drove the gas buggy? Oh, long, long before that. But not much has changed. The regeneration of a forest happens at a sedate pace. And many of the trees here are thousands of years old. When are you finally going to tell us what happened here, and why you brought us to this wretched place? In time, Jackie Williams.

No, now. Very well. I will give you a clue. You will? But in plain English and without any mystical bullshit. He's incapable of that, Mia. Challenge accepted. Wait, what, really? A one-word answer.

And then we collect firewood. Okay. Memory. Memory? Memory? Memory. Oh? Memory? Oh, for fuck's... You already told us this place triggers memories in you.

Memories of your various stories, but... That is not what I mean. Then what do you mean? That was my word. Now let us go gather firewood. Ugh, you even managed to turn one word into a riddle. Memory, absolutely. I'm so fucking tired of this.

I can't believe I fell for this. I can't believe I keep falling for this. Okay, we can't be too long, because the flashlight batteries are on their last legs, and once they die, we will struggle to find our way back. If memory serves, there is a clearing just ahead, which is perfect for gathering firewood. We are going to get to the end of your story by daybreak, right?

I cannot wait to get to the end. Careful what you wish for, Mia Fawkes and Jackie Williams. What is that supposed to mean? We will get to the end by daybreak, yes. Good. Now, there is something I omitted to tell you. Oh? About my tattoos.

Yes? When I said the tattoos I have now do not go back more than eight decades... Yes, that seemed very suspicious. It is mostly true, but with one exception. What's that? The phoenix on my forehead. That one never goes away. Never? So how long have you had it?

Wait, you mean you were born with it? We are here, and it is just how I remember it. Oak makes for fine fire. Let us gather as many branches as we can carry. Ready? Sure. Wait, wait, wait. When did you get the forehead tattooed? It was part of a ritual.

Okay, like a religious ritual? Which reminds me... Yes? When we get back. To London? No, to our little spot by the sea. Yes? We will begin a ritual of our own. What?

I'm sorry, it's just that word. Which word? Ritual? Yeah. Interesting. So, we'll be performing a... Ritual? Interesting. So, we'll be performing a... Ritual, yes. Hang on there, mister. You are not going to brand our foreheads.

We have indulged you every step of the way. Taking you all the way to Scotland. Letting you tell your story backwards. Letting you take your time. Letting you tell your story backwards. Letting you take your time. Letting you drive. But enough is enough. We are not getting tattoos. I was not talking about tattoos.

Oh. The ritual I proposed revolves around drink. Oh, Lord. Sorry. Just embarrassing memory. We will make a tea. Oh. That's okay, Lord. May I? Sorry. Just embarrassing memory. We will make a tea. Oh.

Oh. That's okay, then. What kind of tea? A tea made from Baldur's Root. Baldur's Root? It is very rare and found only in these parts. What are its effects? In and of itself, nothing.

Then what makes it so special? Combined with the power of ritual, it creates the most extraordinary beverage. What does this ritual consist of? If it involves stripping naked and dancing around the fire, I'm out.

Nothing so flamboyant. It is a very low-key ritual. I will explain in detail once we get back. But first, I think Mia Fox has a story to share with us. Hmm? A memory that has marked you. What are you talking about? You know what I am talking about.

When I talked about rituals, it provoked an instantaneous and visceral reaction. It's an embarrassing story. So you said. Tell it to us, Mia. Ugh. What the hell? You will tell us? Sure. Good.

Whew. Alright, here goes. Story time. You really want to hear this? Yes! Okay. So, religion never really played a role for me when I was growing up. My dad was Jewish and my mom was raised Mormon, but they both lost their faith and stopped practicing in their teens. So, I grew up an atheist, I guess, or agnostic.

I don't know. Wasn't really something I thought about much. So in my first year at college, I had to take this course in cultural anthropology, and there was an assignment for which we had to choose a religion and take part in one of its services, rites, or rituals. We weren't supposed to do too much research beforehand. The point was to go in cold and experience it, you know, without preconceptions and stuff. Every morning on my way to campus, I cycled past this Catholic church, and I would see a board outside advertising Sunday Mass. So I asked my best friend Fumiko, who took cultural anthropology with me, if she would go with. ask my best friend Fumiko, who took cultural anthropology with me, if she would go with.

So the next Sunday, we're sitting in the pews, quite far back, a bit giggly, a bit nervous. And, you know, it's actually really beautiful. The candles, the organ, the singing, I really liked the singing. It's quite moving, actually. And the people were so kind. You know, they could see that we were a bit lost, but the gentleman next to me gave me a hymn book and showed us the right page and it was just really nice and friendly, you know, community. I mean, I wouldn't go every Sunday, I don't think, but I could see why people were attracted to it. And then came communion. Everyone got up and I panicked. I mean, what was I supposed to do? So Kimiko said we should follow the others. Everyone's going, she said. It would be rude not to. But I don't know. It felt kind of wrong to stay sitting, but it also felt wrong to stand with all these people who were so into it.

I mean, they were closing their eyes and crossing themselves and just really feeling it. They really believed. And we're just these dumb college kids who were there on a class assignment. But, hey, before we knew it, we're at the altar and Fumiko pushes me in front of her. Thank you, Fumiko. And I walk up to the priest in his green cloak-y thing. And the priest looks me in the eye and it's just so intense. You know, I mean, I try and look back, but it just feels super awkward.

And then he gives me this wafer. And I'm just mortified. I mean, what am I meant to do? Am I meant to eat it? Not eat it? Eat it in a particular way? What if I do it wrong? The priest can see how stressed out I am.

So he bends down, puts a hand on my shoulder, and whispers that I should just go and sit down. So Fumiko and I scurry back to our pew and watch the rest of the congregation perform the ritual, sit out the rest of the service, and cycle back to our dorm. I write my essay. We're supposed to include some sort of documentation, but the church doesn't have any pamphlets or anything. I find the wafer still in my pocket, so I use that. I stick it onto the front page of my essay and hand it in to Professor Russell. Professor Russell. The next cultural anthropology class comes around, and Professor Russell sweeps into the classroom with a mischievous grin, and he's swinging a little plastic Ziploc bag between his thumb and forefinger. Who's offended, he asks. So I look more closely at this Ziploc, and I see that it contains my wafer. So I, you know, I break into a sweat, like, what have I done?

I thought I managed to get out of that church without doing anything wrong, but somehow I've still managed to put my foot in it? Blasphemy or cultural learning, says Professor Russell. Discuss! And so he explains that after the priest has done his thing, the wine becomes the blood of Christ and the wafer becomes his body. Yes, but it's a metaphor, I protest. No, Professor Russell insists. In the Catholic Church, the wafer literally transforms into the literal body of literal Christ. And what we have here, says Professor Russell, is Christ in a bag. Oh, God.

Quite. And what did you do with the wafer? That becomes the topic of discussion for the entire lesson. And? We concluded that the only respectful thing to do would be to return it to the church. A good plan. So Professor Russell gives me the

Ziploc and told me to go back to the church and apologize and return the consecrated wafer and give the priest a copy of my essay. I'm sure he'll understand, he says. Did he? I... What?

Uh, well... Yes? Okay, I'm not proud of this. You... You didn't go, did you? She didn't do it! She didn't go! I was too embarrassed. So what did you do?

I flushed the wafer down the toilet you hear what mia i really regretted it the second after i'd done it mia fox yeah i even briefly considered fishing it out but then what would i do you at this point i was out of good options yeah by now you're definitely going to burn in hell anyway. Do you think? Well, well, well, Mia, folks. Thank you for sharing that story. Um, just letting you know, folks. The flashlight is about to die. Yes, and we have enough firewood to last us until dawn.

Let us return to the car. Okay, I think we can take the risk. You really think? Well, they've been gone for what? Ten minutes now? I don't think they're coming back. Oh, I'm getting cramp. I reckon they found a new spot to make a fire and continue.

I'm bursting for a wee. Faints. Focus. Sorry. I reckon the curse is clear. So I can come out? Thank fuck for that. Hang on, hang on, hang on.

What? Just one minute. I'm just gonna have a quick scout. Can't be too careful. Christ, it's dark out here. Can't be as dark as in here. I guess not. Okay. Okay, I can't hear them, so...

Ouch! What? I stubbed my toe on a bloody... I can't even see what I stubbed it on. Can I come out? Yes. No! Yes or no?

No, no, no! Abort, abort, abort, no! Abort! Abort! Abort! Abort! What's happening? No! Oh, hell! Shut up! The hell was the flashlight? We made it just in time. I can't see anything.

The car's over here. Stay the fuck in the boot. It's them. What are they doing? I can't see. Looks like they're carrying stuff. Lots of branches, I think. The surgeon's got a whole log.

Are they going back to the car? Yeah, yeah. I think they're getting in. Oh, shit! What? The boot! They're going to the boot! What? Scrunch up, Haynes! Would you please scrunch up? Make yourself small! I can't scrunch up any more than I'm already fucking crushed up!

They're about to open the boot! Fuck! Oh, the mustaches! Where are the mustaches? Would you... I'm going to distract them! What? Just wish me fucking luck! Here we go!

What the... Where did that come from? Well, uh, howdy, y'all! Who are you? Where did you come from? Begging, uh, begging your pardon if I startled you. It's just, uh... What? Well, I have been driving now for five hours straight.

I'm worn slap out. And I just wondered if you fine English folks might direct me to the nearest, whatchamacallit, steakhouse? A steakhouse? There are no steakhouses around here, sir. The nearest pub is about an hour's drive inland. A pub? Oh, a public house. Ain't that dandy.

That'll do mighty fine. Although it will probably be closed this time of the night. Well, I suppose the opening hours are quite different over here. We got 24-hour service over where I come from. Now, before you go, might I regale you with a tune? A tune? Yeah, I just felt a tune coming on. It's an old family tune, so you're not familiar with it, I'm sure.

But it goes something like this. Up in the smoky mountains, where the bobcats wild and free. That's where I'll find my sweetheart, and she'll be good to me. We will be making babies and we will be planting crops. And when I take my clothes off, the dads will... I gotta split. Uh, holler if you need me. What the actual fuck was that?

That was a prank. Right? That was someone playing a prank. Suppose there's not much to do in this shithole. Probably a local driving around, putting on accents and singing to random strangers. Jesus, the morons in this country. Very strange indeed. Let's just get back in the car.

Yeah. And I'm driving. You go get warm. I will load the wood into the boot. Thanks. But if you try anything... Yes. Jackie, what the fuck are we doing here? What do you mean? Do you think there's any point to any of this insanity?

This is the case of our lives, Nia. You know that. Yeah, this is not what I imagine life with the CIA would be like. Strange forests, whimsical campfire tales, weirdos at every turn. It's just so... Weird? Weird. And it's about to get weirder. What do you mean? That ritual he mentioned. Yeah? The tea. Yes. You know what that is, right? No. Patience. You think? He's going to teach us how to make patience.

Why would he do that? Maybe he needs supplies? And maybe it takes more than one person to make it. So he's using us as accomplices? I don't care what his motives are, as long as we get the secret. We know it involves tears. Wasn't that a metaphor? I don't know.

Then there's this Baldur's Root. Do you really think he's going to let us in on this? I think so. I think... I think he actually likes us. We have a full boot of firewood, I must say. Despite my initial reluctance, this was just the break I needed. Thank you for suggesting it.

I dare say I will be able to return to my tales with renewed vigor. Let us return to our little spot on the coast for more stories. Tea and stories. Yes. Tea and stories. Seatbelts on? Then let's go this was the final episode of season 5 part 2 we hope to be back

in 2024 with the third and final part of this journey through history. If you're enjoying the show and would like to help us return as soon as possible, please do consider becoming a patron. It's only through listener support that we can keep this show alive. And when you become a patron from just $5, there's a whole bunch of bonus content you'll get instant access to, including 9 episodes of the Arthur Archives, 12 episodes of the Alvina Archives, 25 minisodes of the Audio Advent Calendar, and the upcoming bonus series, Itubal's Inventions. Stay tuned for the epilogue, but first, the credits.

This episode was dedicated to Sophie H. and featured Hemi Yeroham as Kozlowski, Jordan Cobb as Jackie Williams, Aaron King as Mia Fox, Benjamin Noble as Haynes, and Torgny G. Ondero as Cole. The episode was written and edited by Philip Thorne, with story editing by Einstein Ulzbeck-Braga, sound design by Alexander Danner,

music by Frederick Barden, direction by Philip Thorne and Øystein Braga, production assistance by Marti Patsival and graphic design by Anders Pedersen. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts to every single one of our patrons. If you're supporting the show with a per episode contribution no matter how small, thank you, thank you, thank you. Without you this show could not exist. And a shout out to our super patrons. That's Celeste, Joe's, Heat312, Rodney, Dullegi, Jem, Fiddick, Auburn, Asant, Amelie and Alison, Stephanie, Weidenhiller, Rafael, Eduardo, Vifas, Verrastaki, Ashlyn Brand, Alison Thoreau, Patricia, Bornwagner, Bryce, Godmer, Cliff Heisinger, Michael West, Tom Putnam, Deanna, Birchenbreiter, Tim McMacken, And welcome to two new super patrons. That's Mark Skrobinek and Astra Kim.

You are making a huge difference to the show and to our lives. We won't be disappearing completely. We have some very exciting secret surprises planned. But for now, they are just that, secrets. More to be revealed in the coming months. You can follow us on Tumblr, Twitter, Instagram and Blue Sky to get Amelia news as it breaks. And now, the epilogue. What? That was fucking embarrassing, mate.

Embar- I saved your arse! What? That was fucking embarrassing, mate. Embar- I saved your arse! Up in the smoky mountains. Shut up. Why'd that? I had to make something up on the spot, mind you. And how many moustaches were you wearing?

Two. Thought so. But it was so dark, they couldn't see a thing anyway. Wait until I tell Dougie and Nassim about this. What? You're not going to tell anyone about it. I am. You're not. You bet I am.

You are not. Or I'll... I'll tell. Yes? I'll tell how you peed yourself on the boot. I didn't pee myself. I held it in. Oh yeah? That's not what I heard. Yeah. Crucial skill for an agent. So... I could really do with that pee now though. Quick stop?

No. Oh, go on. No, there's no time. Call me. Tosser. Tosser. Tosser. The Fable and Folly Network, where fiction producers flourish. Please try to get some sleep tonight.

I've been trying to sleep all week. Nothing helps. You could try a sleep sound. No thanks. You've had enough nightmares for the both of us. Let me go! Come on. The medication has nothing to do with that. I haven't had a bad dream in ages. Ever since your highly problematic affair in Idaho? Oh my god, never stop.

Nothing happened. Nothing happened? Well, you still haven't told me who you're bringing to graduation. Oh, your heart is racing. How can you tell? You're lying on top of me. What if I don't want anyone else to know yet? And it wasn't a bad dream?

I don't know. Christopher, you know. Can't you appreciate that I'm trying to help you here? Thanks for the pills, Lilz. Dreamers, Season 2 by Broken Crown Productions. for the pills, Lils.