The Amelia Project - Episode 77 - Rocco (1507)

Episode Date: August 16, 2024

"My story… well… I think most of that is written on my face." A mysterious hooded figure enters a humble cobblers workshop in Florence. But it is no ordinary cobblers shop... it is a front for a death faking agency. And the hooded figure? Listen to find out his true identity! The Amelia Project is a fiction podcast by Imploding Fictions. This episode features Alan Burgon as The Interviewer, Nathan Peter Grassi as Rocco, Hemi Yeroham as Kozlowski and Torgny G Anderaa, Benjamin Noble, Thomas Crawley, Patrick Lamb, Tom Middler, Peter Steele and Owen Lindsay as the People of Florence. It was written by Jack Marone with story editing and direction by Philip Thorne and Oystein Brager, dialogue editing by Philip Thorne, sound design by Adam Raymonda, Baldur’s root chant by Hemi Yeroham, music by Fredrik Baden, production assistance by Maty Parzival and graphic design by Anders Pedersen. 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 Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ameliapodcast/ Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/ameliapodcast X: https://twitter.com/amelia_podcast Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/theameliaproject.bsky.social Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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Enjoy the show. Ah! Ah! Ah! Stupid! Shoo! We should make boots, I said! It will be a comfortable life, I said! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah No, it's already morning. Apologies. We've got a last minute order. Well, what do they have you making now? Uh, Giulio asked for a pair of boots after learning Giovanni received a new pair. But what is it with all the hammering of metal? Uh, well, Giovanni was so pleased when you made him buttons out of bone last week, he told the whole of Florence about them. Can you hand me the thread, Kamak? It's on the table. Do not get snippy with me now, Arthur.

This is exactly the kind of thing I said would happen after you got us stuck back in with this mess of a family. Here you go. Thank you. Still, I genuinely don't see how I was supposed to know Nicolo would get us all wrapped up in some kind of power grab with his bosses. Plus, when I suggested the Cobbler's shop, I thought this would be a quiet, humble front for us to do some business.

Not some exclusive aristocratic boutique. Oh, do not pretend you do not love it. Oh, well, yes, all right. I suppose I do enjoy the more sculptural aspects of it. And the fancier the wearer, the more fun the shoe these days. I mean, really. That is the spirit. Oh, and maybe you can bring back Schnabel shoes.

Oh, never again, Kamak, never again. Uh, so what does Julio have you making now? Well, to prove he's even more passionate about hunting than his older cousin, Julio has decided to have me hammer out his dagger into buttons. How very masculine. Quite, yes. And as I always say, I'll help you compensate for anything as long as I am being compensated in return. I have never heard you say that. Anyway, I better start getting ready. Oh, now where are you going? Somewhere fun, I hope. Let me live vicariously through you. Another pre-dawn, pre-breakfast guild meeting.

A group of people who spend all day talking about shoes. Who would have thought they would be so chatty. Who would have thought there'd be so much to talk about? But you know, thank you for your sacrifice. Will you bring me back some fruit if there's any? Melon season is ending and I'm desperate for a bit more before it's done. Verazano is always trying to get people to eat his wife's grapes. Yes, if he only knew how many people have been sampling his wife's grapes.

I will try and bring you a whole fruit plate. Splendid. You are talking about fruit, yes? Splendid. Don't have too much fun now. Thanks Arthur. Enjoy your button hammering. Yes. Oh, back to it. Ow! Good lord.

Button, button, button. For fruit, I am a glutton. I prefer lamb chops to mutton. This job's turning me into a shut-in. Rhymes as mediocre as my metalworking. What say you, Mr. Shoe? Oh, that was a quick one. Did you forget to put on your shoes?

I'm finding with shoes in my hands all the time. I can forget to put them on my feet. Oh, hello, sir. Welcome to Firebird Footwear, the best cobblers in Northern Florence. Buona sera. Buona sera. And may I say that's a lovely hood.

Very foreboding. The Amelia Project, created by Philip Thorne and Øystein Ulspeck-Braga. With music and sound direction by Frederik Barden and sound design by Adam Raymonde. Episode 77. Rocco. 1504. Episode by Jack Morone. This is a lovely shop. Thank you. Do you mind if I look around? Certainly, but there isn't much to look at, I'm afraid.

Yes, all of our wares are made to order, so you'll mostly be browsing sawdust and leather scraps. I'm happy just to have a quiet place to stand around for a moment. Right. Hm. Are you the Pope? Excuse me? The Pope.

We've had a whole host of Medici's around here lately. I was just taking a guess that you might be one of them. Hmm? No, no. I'm no Medici. Just a regular man trying to have a quiet moment. Oh, a regular man. I see. Well, I have to admit, I am devilishly curious about

what regular man is under that hood. Are you sure you're not an escaped criminal? Eh? It's horrid what they'll do to somebody just for stealing a loaf of bread around here. No wonder you cover your face. I promise. I'm nobody so... interesting. Oh, yes, well you see. I know that that's a phrase you'll only ever hear from a truly

interesting person. Hmm. May I ask you a question? Certainly. I'm always happy to answer queries from strange mysterious spectres like yourself. Ha ha. Ask away. Will you? Yes a shoe for my bird? I'm sorry, for your bird? Will you make me a shoe for my bird?

Yes, I thought that's what you said. Well, you see, the thing is, I'm not even sure I have the right tools, to be honest. Did I say it wrong? Well, how about you tell me what kind of bird it is? A shoe. Yes, for a bird. Big bird? Small bird? I've said it so wrong, I don't know. No, it means that a shoe for a bird. A shoe for a bird, Big bird? Small bird? No, I've said it so wrong, I have to know. No, it means that...

A shoe for a bird, yes. What kind of bird is it? Oh, no, I've got it completely wrong. A pigeon? I don't know what to say. An eagle? Are they talons? They require very strong leather, you see. Are you alright?

You know, a shoe. The password. I thought I had to come ask about bird shoes and then you'd help me rise again like a Phoenix. Yes, yes, I get it now. Oh, God. I told Karnak having a password was an over complication! But I am so delighted that it led me to this well-needed laugh! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Shoe for your word! Oh, I said it wrong.

What you were supposed to inquire about was shoes with red feathers! Ah, that does sound familiar. Ah, yes. Never mind. We are here now and I have an excuse to ignore these pesky buttons for a short while. Please continue. Glad I could provide a distraction. Oh, it's much more than that. Come, sit. Please feel free to throw the scraps on that chair to the ground.

Ah, grazie. No, thank you. Now, why don't you tell me your story? My story? Well, I think most of that is written on my face. Aha! I knew it. I was hoping for a dramatic reveal. Yes. Scars? Now, take as much time as you need to process. Are you ready? To process your face?

Oh, you're not Medusa, are you? I work very hard to maintain healthy skin, and I would just hate for it to turn all stony. Okay. I'm pulling down the hood. Are you ready? Yes, I'm ready to face your face. Alright then. Here we go. Oh, well come on now. You're just an average... I mean, you're just... you're... just... You're just...

Not... not... You're him! No, I'm not. Right here in the flesh! Oh, good Lord! No. Really, good Lord! David, the King of Israel in my humble workshop! And here I was making jokes about you turning my face into stone, and here you are, stone

become man! Oh, good Lord! I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I am not a biblical figure. Yes, you are! I walk by the crowds marveling I am not a biblical figure. Yes, you are. I walk by the crowds marveling at you on a daily basis. I'd know those gentle eyes and that literally chiseled jawline anywhere. Admittedly, I'd always imagined your eyes hazel,

but the blues really pack a punch, I have to say, David. Ah! Please, my name is Rocco. Now... This is exactly why I need your help. Oh why why because I called you David? Because of that to say is the statue David is you. No! I am me. Yes, yes, I know that. I see that, but what I mean to say is, well... You seem to be implying some association with Michelangelo's statue outside of the Palazzo della Signoria, yes?

Yes, yes. I'm sorry for losing my temper. Oh, that's all right. This is all so overwhelming. I am the model for that life-ruining hunk of stone. The model, yes, that's what I should have asked. Well, then, I have to say you are a liar. Oh, I swear, my name is Rocco and I am a model. Well, I used to be a blacksmith until recently, but now I am a model and I think it should

be clear from your reaction that the statue was based on me. Crystal clear, but I'm calling you a liar because you told me you weren't, and I quote, anybody so interesting. I'm not. I'm nobody. Or I should be nobody. You may not see yourself as interesting, but it's hard to deny you are in a truly fascinating position. From a humble blacksmith to the most famous face in Florence. It's a shame you aren't a carpenter. Why is that?

Feels a bit more apt, biblically. Never mind that. You're certainly right. There's a shame you aren't a carpenter. Why is that? It feels a bit more apt, biblically. Never mind that. You're certainly right. There's a story on your face, but I'd love to hear how your face became that story. Oh, where to begin? Why not the beginning? What was your life like before the statue? It was wonderful.

I never appreciated how wonderful it was. I'd lived just outside of the Piazza del Duomo with Mama and Papa. Even as a man, everyone in the neighborhood called me Baby Rocco. Baby Rocco? Why? Well, Mama said it's because I'm beautiful, like a baby. Right. Papa told me it's because I'm not very bright. Right. Both are true, so I don't really care. So why was life so wonderful for baby Rocko? I don't know, it just was. I could get out of bed and go down

to Papa's shop, move stuff around for him and bang on the envelope a few times and head out. Oh wait, so you weren't really doing any of the blacksmithing then? Well not really, no. I'm the son of a blacksmith and Papa used to say having his handsome boy around the shop was good for business. So we'd pretend I was one too. But no, I don't really know how to do anything there and I really don't like the odd fire. Interesting. Still, it made Papa happy for me to come around. Well that's nice.

Hmm, it was. After that I would go back to the house and help Mama with whatever tasks needed doing. I'd usually go to the community oven and grab a loaf of bread for dinner. I loved that the most, since then on, as the old ladies there would give me a fresh roll for nothing but a smile from baby Rocco. Well, that sounds like quite a tranquil existence. We weren't rich, and I couldn't afford to do anything but help my parents and sit in the piazza.

Most days after I was done helping Mama, I'd just sit by the fountain watching people go by. Nothing glamorous, but it was better. And now life is too glamorous and even more complicated. So how does one go from baby Rocco, son of a blacksmith, to Michelangelo's muse? I was a victim of my own vanity and greed. How so? I told you I would spend my days lounging in the piazza. Well, occasionally a painter or sometimes on rare occasions a sculptor would see me sitting there and ask to use my likeness.

These people would just show up with their easels and just quietly sit down and paint you? Exactly. Is that not normal? This never happened to me. No, but I have to say, sitting with you here, I'm also tempted to pull out some pastels and fashion a sketch. I'd prefer it if you didn't. I'm a bit sick of seeing my face reproduced. Well, pity. Anyway, please continue. Well, one artist came by who seemed a bit more aristocratic than the average artist I'd encountered. And this

is when Michelangelo discovered you. What? No, of course not. He has nothing to do with these artists. Oh. Not sure why you jumped to that conclusion. Well, sorry for interrupting. Please keep going. Mama always told me to be cautious with nobles. I got up to leave, but before I had moved two steps he called over to me and offered me more coin than I'd ever had to my name. Just to pose for one hour. Well, that had to be quite tempting. Hmm?

It was. So much so that I sat back down and earned myself a pocketful of florins. And what did you do with that kind of money? I ran to Mama and told her everything. I wanted to use some of the money to buy a pig for the house. I do love pigs, but I knew I couldn't show up with it unannounced. I assume she wasn't keen on the idea of having a pig around the house. We never even got to it. She was so upset about my modelling, saying I was acting as a false idol.

saying I was acting as a false idol. Mama is very devout. So what did you do? I ran all the way to the Catedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore to give the money to God as penance for my vanity. I see. So how does Michelangelo play into this? I arrived at the Catedrale and there was a line out the door and down into the main piazza. Everyone in line was a bona fide honk, a true muscle man, and all of them nude. Nude? Wait, you're telling me that there was a line of fully nude men just, what, spilling out from the cathedral?

Yes, exactly. Oh my. I saw a painted sign that said auditions near the back of the line, but I ignored it and went in another entrance. Now this has to be where Michelangelo comes in. I walked through the doors on the opposite side of this queue, and I tried to quietly approach the wall where I could give arms. I did peek across the church and saw a table of serious-looking men at the very front of the line of hunks. At the center of the table there was a cruel old man. Every few seconds he would shout something at the hunk in the front of the line like, not too muscly or not horrible face or not dead eyes.

And then that man would be handed a burlap robe and he would scamper out of the church. You didn't happen to hear him shout out no too many tattoos, I hope? Huh? Tattoos? Yes, paintings all over his body. No. Thank God for that. Well, paintings all over his body. No. Oh, thank God for that. Well, you paint quite a scene. I tried to donate my arms quickly and get out of there.

But as I said, I had thirty or so florins to give and needed to fit each one through a small slot. Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang. By the fifth clang of a coin hitting a pile, I heard a shout from the table asking who was being so disruptive. What happened? Next thing I knew, two armed guards were not so politely dragging me out of the Catedrale.

All my coins clanging to the floor as they grabbed me. I was mortified! I can imagine. Yes, nobody likes being made a fool of in public. But there's a special kind of embarrassment when it's happening in a cathedral. Believe me. It was. That is until he yelled out, the cruel old man. Michelangelo. The very one.

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Download Bumble and try it for yourself. Michelangelo shouted to the guards, halt, bring him to me. And they dragged me right up to the front table. I felt bad for all of the onks as they looked at me, disappointed and envious. People do not appreciate a linecutter. I know, but there was nothing I could do.

I was dragged past all of their scowling faces and chiseled bottoms until I was standing across the table from the great artist and a bunch of sweating clergymen. Ooh, what did he say? He looked at me for what felt like several minutes in silence. I attempted to speak but was shushed so aggressively I nearly fell on my backside. Then eventually Michelangelo just said,

See, yes. Yes? That's all he said. Immediately there was a chorus of disappointed sighs from the long line of onks and everyone started shuffling out of the catedrale. Once everyone was gone, Michelangelo explained the statue to me. I told him my mother did not want me to model and he insisted that this was different since it was for God.

If I had a coin for every time I've heard that one. Well, it convinced me. Plus, he said if I donated my payment back to the church, I'd basically guarantee my family's entrance into heaven. Good deal. I also thought Mama would have loved our humble family contributing to the church, and the statue was supposed to be placed on top of the Catedrale, so it's not as if anyone else would be able to tell it was me from that distance. But the statue of David is…

Not on top of the Catedrale, I'm aware. Right. What did your mother say when you told her? I didn't. I thought it would be a nice surprise for my parents. They'd say baby Rocco finally did something special. I snuck off for several months to the cathedral to pray, while I really went to Michelangelo's studio to stand around in the nude, holding a sling. And your mother didn't catch on? No. I think she was too excited by my sudden interest

in daily worship. I kept going back. I got used to the routine after a while and the silence. Michelangelo did not say a word to me until the final day of my sitting for him. What did he say to you then? All he said was, I got too excited. I made a statue too big.

It won't fit on top of the catedrale anymore. And then he shrugged and said, you will live in the piazza from here, David. He called you David? I think he had stopped talking to me and was speaking to the statue. Either way, that was the sign my life, my face, was no longer my own. I learned that as soon as the statue appeared in the piazza a few days later. I was at the community oven, and the nuns I've known for years, they looked stricken when they saw me.

They kissed my hands and gave me a loaf of bread for having blessed their oven with my presents. I thought they were just being a bit silly, but as I was leaving one of them shouted, The Lord bless you King Davide. But these women knew who you were. I mean, they spoke with you every day. They are also devout Catholics. I think they saw me as reborn. Or at least my connection to David was more important than my connection to Baby Rocco. You don't have a connection to Baby Rocco.

You are Baby Rocco. I can't blame them. I ran to the piazza and pushed through the massive crowd to see the final version of the statue in its resting place. I realized what a likeness it was, and then a moment later realized I was the only one looking at the statue. What? The only one? Why weren't people looking at it?

Because they were looking at me. Oh. Cries of, Davide, Davide, and King of Israel were coming from everywhere. People reached out to touch me and begged me to bless them. Oh, Lord, what did you do? I ran. I sprinted through the piazza with hundreds of people calling after me, chasing me.

I ran all the way home and shut the door. I crawled to the window and peeked outside to see the crowd standing outside my home. I sat there in shock for a long while until I heard Mama say, "'What did you do? "'Did you steal a loaf of bread?' say, what did you do? Did you steal a loaf of bread? I desperately tried to explain and watched as my mother's face twisted from disgust to shock and then to awe. She didn't. Hmm.

The first word out of her mouth as she reached her hand to my cheek. Davide. No. I said no. No, mama, please. It's me, baby Rocco. But her devout ways would not let that be so. I could see the pride in her eyes. There was no going back from this. Even your own mother reduced to a worshiper? Not just my mother, everyone in my life.

Papa was so excited, he renamed the shop, Jesse's Armory, and then began selling exclusively Old Testament weaponry. Oh, is his name Jesse? No, but David's father was. I see. When word had spread that King David's father sold biblical swords, there's been a line out of the door for weeks. Papa rarely leaves his shop anymore with the demand.

He says it's his sacred duty to arm the followers of the King. And what have you been doing? Staying at home mostly. I can't slip outside given the crowds. I usually go to the window once a day to wave to them. It makes my skin crawl, but it delights mama. Occasionally I manage to slip out. I learn to sew with all my time indoors. I made this cloak myself.

Really? Oh, it's lovely. Some truly excellent stitching. Thank you. Well, now I'd say I'm about 90% clear. On what? On why you're here. Is it not obvious? My life is a prison of fame. Yes, that it is.

But you've mentioned how important your parents are to you, and how you want to see them happy. I love my parents dearly, and there is nothing I want more than to bring them happiness. Yes, I'm sensing a but. But. There it is. They aren't my parents anymore. They are subjects to a long dead king. Well, if that's truly how you feel, why not just simply...

leave? Get 20 kilometers from here and you won't be recognized at all. I can't. Poppycock, why not? Michelangelo. Oh, how can he stop you? I went to him a few days later, after the statue was in the piazza, and begged him to alter it in some way to protect my likeness. I assume that had about as much chance as a rodent petting zoo during the bubonic plague.

Mm-hmm. It was a long shot, but I had to ask. He laughed in my face and pulled out the contract I signed. You mean to say you hadn't read it? Oh, I'm a blacksmith's son. Of course I can't read. Forgive me. Yes, that does make sense.

Hmm. He read the contract out to me and it stated that not only did I give up my whole likeness to the Catholic Church, I was also on the hook for a series of sequels and collectible minis. Pardon? He plans to sculpt a limited run of miniature versions of David doing a variety of different poses and actions. People can have them in their houses, by their bedside table, or whatever they want, really. Frankly, it's a great business idea and all his patrons are very excited. So you're trapped in the city until that work is completed? I could soon walk into the Catedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore, put on the archbishop's vestments,

and dance around on the altar like a dressage horse, then I could walk out of Florence on my own. Well, that's a strong point. And visual, I see your predicament. When does he expect to be finished? Three years from now. Three years? Once the minis are done,

he wants to do a series of David's statues for children, where the slingshot has a face with engravings on the base, implying the slingshot is David's friend Slingo. The base will have quotes from Slingo saying things like, Goliath ain't seen nothing yet, or you rock David, let's break some skulls I've only seen some sketches and all of it is edges from chisel getting to stone but although I despise the man with all of my soul I must admit Michelangelo's nothing if not What's in there? What is that racket? Nice. Arthur, where are you? Arthur, are you in?

There you are. I arrived at the guild meeting, only to be told it was cancelled. Because the reincarnated King David was at our compiler workshop. How was that? And there he is. Hello, your Holiness. I am Kamak. Kamak, this is Rocco and he needs our help. I take it there is a large crowd gathered outside. Yes, there have to be about 300 Italian Catholics huddled in prayer on the other side of this door. I'm a fool for coming here.

I should have stayed at home knitting with Mama. What happens if you walk into the crowd? To start with, they let me pass. Whispering prayers or reaching out to touch my garments. Admittedly, this sounds like a fairly pleasant walk. Yes, but the crowds have been getting aggressive. Last time I was caught out on a stroll, a man beat me in the hope my blood would make him, in his words, strong as Goliath.

Well, how does that make sense? I mean, why would biting David make you as strong as Goliath? It's catching on though. My blood, my hair, my skin, they'll tear me apart first chance they get just to own a piece of the Holy King. They've gone mad. Sounds like we've got a true bunch of wild cards on our hands. Oh. I should have known better than to think I could just disappear.

I'm going to go out there. And let them tear me limb from limb. Sorry to have wasted your time. Now, now, sit down! I believe we can help you. Help me? But how? There's a holy mob outside your door waiting to pounce on their so-called king. Rocco, leave the dramatics to me.

We have a plan. You do? We do? We do. Oh, well, that depends of course. How married are you to that face, Rocco? Eh? Married to my face? Your face, yes. I mean, I only have the one. Oh, what I mean to say is, would you be comfortable not being incredibly handsome? Hmm. I don't know. I've never tried it. Well, it's worked for me all these years. Here is the plan.

Kamak, swap faces with Rocco here. Excuse me? Oh, it would be my pleasure to wear such a face. We'll give you a new life right here in Florence as a cobbler. A cobbler? Right here in this workshop, in fact. You want me to switch faces with him to run your shoe making business?

Yes. I mean, people already know Camac's face, so this place can go on like nothing happened. And to be honest, I'm sick of these damned Medici's. So I think this is a win-win for everyone. I'm assuming you're aware that we are not a charity? Ah, see, see, I brought what's left of my commission from the church. I'd hoped it would be enough to cover... That will do nicely.

And just out of curiosity, what plan would you have had to survive when we collected payment? Ah, I hadn't thought that far ahead. Ah. Well then, this cobbler's shop will be a perfect landing pad. Now, I'll take those. Thank you very much. Oh, and hand me your cloak. Why?

Back. What are you doing? Be careful. Oh. Uh, Gu doing? Be careful. Dio! Guido! Santino! Can you come upstairs, please? Guido? Who in the...what? Signor. Ah, Guido. Do you and Santino still have your two-person costume from last month's festival? Si.

Perfect. Have Santino hop on your shoulders, put it back on and meet me at Piazza della Signoria. I'll be wearing this charming hood. When I give you a signal, you're going to pick me up and run into the alley at the north east of the piazza. Ciao! Perfect. Everything is in motion. What's happening? David is going to fight Goliath. But this time, there will be a bit less divine intervention. Er... Huh? Oh, I'm quite looking forward to putting on a show.

I must say, I've spent far too long with shoes as my primary audience. Carmack, when you're finished, will you send that corpse in the basement over to the alley? Corpse? I'm planning to keep the biblical battle going on for a short time, but we will need a decoy with its face smashed by a giant. I will be there within the hour. One of the real benefits of working with all this leather is we have some great tools for skin assembly.

Broco, if you come with me, I have a bed in the back where we can get to work on our little swap. Oh, I don't know about any of this. Oh, well, I mean, it's entirely up to you, of course. It's either a new face and own a cobbler shop, or an old face and get bitten by delusional Catholic mobs for the rest of your days. Where is this bed?

Right this way. Good choice. Ah, right. Let's see. Um, Rocco, it was a pleasure meeting you. Best of luck with your new shoe contracts. I'm certain your sewing skills will serve you well. Are you leaving now? Oh yes, my fans have been waiting long enough.

The show must go on. Try not to overdo it, Arthur. We need a clean break from this place. Oh, you insult me. I will only use as much showmanship as is absolutely necessary. As always. I'm very restrained. Right.

Here we go. Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!

Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!

Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! To your king, there is a Goliath in your midst. March onward with me and my trusty friend, Slingo! To watch me defeat him once more. He seems like he's overdoing it a bit. He always does. Now come this way so I can cut off your face. Stay tuned for the epilogue, but first the credits. The Amelia Project is a production of Imploding Fictions. This episode featured Alan Bergen as the interviewer,

Nathan Peter Grassi as Rocco, Hemi Jeroham as Koslovski, Fernando Tiborini as Guido, and Torgny G. Ondero, Benjamin Noble, Thomas Crawley, Patrick Lamb, Tom Midler, Peter Steele, and Owen Lindsay as the people of Florence. The episode was written by Jack Marone with story, editing and direction by Philip Thorne and Einstein Braga, dialogue editing by Philip Thorne, sound design by Adam Raimonda, the Baldorz Root chant by Hemi Yeroham, music by Frederick Bardin, production assistance by Marty Patsival and graphic design by Anders Pedersen. Thank you to all of you who are supporting the show and allowing us to make more episodes.

And a shout out to our glittering super patrons. That's Celeste Joes, Heat 312, Gemphidic, Alban, Asant, Amelie and Allison, Stephanie Weidniller, Rafael Eduardo, Vyfas Verrastecki, Allison Thrope, Patricia Bornfagner, Bryce Scott, Macliff Heisinger, Michael West, Diana Berchenbriar, Tim McMackin, Blythe Varney, Natalee, Aurora, Lee and V, Huadine, Mr Squiggles, Tony Fisher, Tibby, Florian Byers, Kourtney Mays, Renson, Boo, Mark Sgrobenek, Astra Kim, Olivia Dodson, Philip Hanson, Michael David Smith, Alicia Hall, LG, Heldan Inkheart, Ryan Burnett, Robert Acker, Super Cali Fragilistic, Xpialis, Nick...Nickel...Whew, Jason Woods, Timothee S, Kaylee Wilson, Robert Acker, Supercali, Fragilistic, Xpialis, Nick, Nickel, Jason Woods, Timotheeus, Kaylee Wilson, Doctimus, Ben Carlisle, Miss Nixie, Mystic, Sybil and Tiffany Duffy. If you would like

to join their ranks, go to AmeliaPodcast.com and click on support the show to find out how you can support us, access our bonus series, listen early and ad free and more. And now, the epilogue. Yeah, can we finally make the tea? There is another step. Ugh, what's that? Song. What? Uh... We must sing to it. You want us to sing to a root? It is part of the ritual, yes.

Oh, for... But it will only work if undertaken with the utmost sincerity. Jackie... Jackie, we're not doing this, are we? You do not want the tea? Yes, yes, we want the tea. Then, close your eyes, hold your roots to your chests, and join me. No, no! There's only so much woo-woo I can take and then I've I've reached my limit.

I'm not singing to a... OK, this is stupid. Even for you, this is... You're messing with us, right? Like, you don't really think we're going to... Jackie! I...I...I... I...I... I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I... Oh my gosh. Shit. I keep your voice. Oh my god.

Two grown women. Oh shit. Officers of the CIA. See. See it to a room. It's so embarrassing. So embarrassing. Oh we should film this and send it to Miss Kennedy.

We should! We really should! I mean, have you ever seen anything so utterly pathetic? Ouch! What? Ouch! What? Ouch!

I think I was just bitten by something. Oh god damn! Did you think it was a snake? What? No! No, I think it was a mosquito or a spider or something. Ow! There's something crawling up my leg! Oh my god, it is a snake! No, no, think it was a mosquito or a spider or something. Ow! There's something crawling up my leg. Oh my god it is a snake.

No, no it's not a snake, it's... It's... It's ants. Ants? Oh god. They're all over. Ouch! Ants? Stop biting!

Fucking birds! Birds? Yeah. Oh. Piss ants then? Piss ants, then? Piss ants? Yeah, yeah, they piss in your wound. They do what?

Yeah, you never come across piss ants. The thing I have now? Ow! Little baby, you're so cute. Not there, not there, not there, not there. Ow! I'm dying here. Be quiet.

They're eating me, including my... Do you know? I'm gonna be pissed on by Satan's own bloody... Ow! Shh! I think they're done singing. Well done! Real sincerity.

We are now ready for the next step. And what's the next step? We'll let the root sleep for a bit. Sleep? In the meantime, I can tell you another story. Sleep. We just sang a lullaby, did we not? That was a lullaby? How can they ever look themselves in the mirror after this? I told you to be down! Wow. Cool. Yes, Haynes. Look at that.

Why it's fucking stained. Ouch. Fuck. Just be... Shut up. No. I'm keeping my voice down. Did you keep your voice down?

I'm keeping my voice down. You're not keeping your voice down. The Fable and Falling Network, where fiction producers flourish. How much do you know about cryonic preservation? Cryonic preservation? The preservation of human beings at extreme low temperature. You mean like Walt Disney?

I swear to God if you say anything about Walt Disney's frozen head, I'm hanging up this phone right now. Swear to me you've never heard of the Red Valley Sea Bolt until I just told you. I swear. Swear. Could you take your hand off my knee? Look, Warren, if they're sending the Butter Wouldn't Melt new boy looking for Red Valley, it'll be for a reason.

Trust me, people are losing their lives in this company. We pulled him out too soon. He is awakening exactly as we planned. He's dying on me! We're all murderers here. Brian E, you, me, that doorman probably. Guy on the corner there with a neck tattoo. I bet he's killed someone. Would you like to cut his head off?

I'm sorry. Yes, sorry. It's fine. I bet you've killed someone. Would you like to cut his head off? I'm sorry. Your sword is fun. Gordon, why are you sharing this stuff with me? Why are you smiling?

I don't know. I smile when things get awkward. Get in your golden bullet, pick me up. You want to go to Red Valley? You want to go to Red Valley? Red Valley. Red Valley. Red Valley is available on all podcast providers.

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