Amplevoicepod

Dick Soupe and Spike Mulligan are trying to earn money they owe Patsy their landlord for rent. The two are late for their morning shift as Santa Claus and elf at Swizzler’s Department Store, run by Mohammed Alfajar Fulhamhole. Dick’s reaction to this seasonal job, coupled with a ‘Furby’ toy craze of that year and his lusting after young mothers, has Dick and Spike soon arguing over their pints in Joe Goggleses’ pub. They’ll be turfed out of their flat before Christmas if they don’t get Patsy’s rent money. Spike moans about it while reading his new book on Nostradiddymus, the "middle century cacker" as Dick calls him. Dick decides the best way to deal with things is to sleep on it, only to be visited by apparitions who take him on a journey to witness pivotal points of his past, present and of his future - should he stay on this path… Yuletide Yobs is a vulgar little vignette of one man’s transformation again, again and again… An Amplevoicepod ear-film production. Amplevoicepod create original, scripted, character & plot-driven comedy dramas. We construct fully immersive HD audio adventures. More than just a podcast, we are the Voice of Pod. Listen now to adventures from Mount Pheasant, Timefiddler, UCLS, Mental Holmes and ATRS. Frumpy Dumpster, United Mutations, Panspermia and the Friday Rock Show. All with beautiful sound design and irreverent humour. Join Adgeen and Tony on their two-hour rock show 'The Friday Rock Show', reading our listener stories live on air, among the greatest rock songs of the time. Find us, follow, subscribe and like. Streaming on Spotify, Acast, PlayerFM, Spreaker, Stitcher, Google Podcasts, Deezer and more. Podbean and Soundcloud for episode art plus YouTube vids aplenty, Twitter for the socials, etc, ah sure you know eh? Bred mouldy in the backwoods of Wicklow, Ireland, where inspiration and insanity produce alchemic audio. https://podcasts.apple.com/ie/podcast/amplevoicepod/id1479166024 

May, 2001, Ireland. Two men arrive late in the morning on a cold and empty east coast beach. They are hungover. They are limping. They look at each other squinting. “This is it” one mumbled. “It’s done… Time to put on those headphones one last time…” It wasn’t one last time. Adgeen and Tony were back! And the Friday Rock Show ‘Brittas Bay’ special of ’01 was a masterclass in how to bottle a beautiful bowel movement. But they got by with a little help from their financially-induced friends. Dave O’Leary, Stephen Hawking, Ciaran Brennan, Neddy Tafler, Mr. Mellon, Gabbler, Leo McGregor and Paul Gombatuna all lent a well-remunerated hand in bringing the Friday Rock Show back on the air. Holding court among the bemused lobster-fleshed locals, bubbling farts in their ‘Rock Jacuzzi’, Adgeen and Tony sat on a Wicklow beach to present the first Friday Rock Show of the new millennium. They splash around, gurn, writhe and slap each other senseless in this epic summer special on Brittas Bay, Ireland’s ‘Premier Beach Attraction’ so someone says. You’ll hear some quite outlandish communiqués from our listeners. Jagger nearly spills hash into his pint while watching Celine gyrate beside his armchair. Neddy is so horny, his cock might explode as he soon gets his conquest ‘up the duff’. Baldy travels down to Wexford to fall in love with Becks from Coolgreany and proceeds to eat all her food. Then there’s Karen McGaa, who starts work at the ‘Donation Station’ in a sperm bank, soon to be hypnotised by Quentin’s larger-than-expected contribution. Finally there’s Gerry Dixon, who’s very angry at the ‘First Wives Club’ of his local GAA community, spitefully telling us they’re all ‘skulling back pints’, ‘riding in tractor sheds’ and ‘building a house next to the ‘mammy’’. Witness more spots than you can flick a snot at, with Who Wants To Be a Millionaire, Gabbler’s Sci-Fi Spot, The Tune The Box Spat Out, Don’t Fuck Up The Microphone and a bevy of promotional adverts to pick the sand out of your crack to. Adgeen and Tony dance in the moonlight with Toploader, roll with Limp Bizkit, go loco with the Fun Lovin’ Criminals, steal some sunshine with Len and play sssshhpiderman with The Ramones! And even the sun briefly came out too. It’s a mighty soggy sandcastle of a show. So throw down your towel and let The Friday Rock Show lash the air off your pimply blue skin with our Brittas Bay Special from 2001. Amplevoicepod create original, scripted, character & plot-driven comedy dramas. We construct fully immersive HD audio adventures. More than just a podcast, we are the Voice of Pod. Listen now to adventures from Mount Pheasant, Timefiddler, UCLS, Mental Holmes and ATRS. Frumpy Dumpster, United Mutations, Panspermia and the Friday Rock Show. All with beautiful sound design and irreverent humour. Join Adgeen and Tony on their two-hour rock show 'The Friday Rock Show', reading our listener stories live on air, among the greatest rock & metal songs of the time. Do it, do it, dooo it. Find us, follow, subscribe and like. Check us out on Spotify, Acast, PlayerFM, Spreaker, Stitcher, Google Podcasts, Deezer and more. Podbean and Soundcloud for episode art plus YouTube vids aplenty, Twatter, etc, you know yourself. Bred mouldy in the backwoods of Wicklow, Ireland, where inspiration and insanity produce alchemic audio... https://podcasts.apple.com/ie/podcast/amplevoicepod/id1479166024 

Strutting awkwardly down the steps into the pert parlour of plenty, flanked each side by Mirjana and Irena, Adgeen and Tony stumble through red velvet curtains. Two glasses of Louis Roederer’s finest Cristal are shoved in their faces by an effortlessly slender gentleman. Tony slaps him away, ordering instead two bottles of Tuborg much to the smirks of other McLapdancer staff. Adgeen’s about holding it together for the after party here but Tony has just pissed himself, wobbling toward a private room with a square-jawed Estonian. 50 Cent comes thumping on the P.A. and a thonged girl with a live snake jumps up on a shiny podium. Adgeen tells no-one in particular that “50 Cent was shot 8 times don’t you know”. Tony roars back beyond a curtain: “Yeah, but not in the head though!” The Friday Rock Show is ‘Looking Back At 2003’, when Ugg boots, double denim and Justin Timberlake were somehow relevant. A ghastly time for all involved but there was a sliver of Olympian light in the form of The Darkness, The Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Foo Fighters, Queens of the Stone Age and Audioslave. Adgeen and Tony tear into incredulous letters sent in from Tucker, DJ Jaffa, Mickleen, Clare, Gabbler, Busher and Seamus Conman, regaling us with tales of their strange goings-on in 2003. A time when everybody was trapped in lapdancing clubs, drinking too much and racking up huge credit card debt to fund whole families back in Eastern Oestrogena. But, my, they were lovin’ it! Da-da-da-da-daaaah!   Amplevoicepod create original, scripted, character & plot-driven comedy dramas. We construct fully immersive HD audio adventures. More than just a podcast, we are the Voice of Pod. Listen now to adventures from Mount Pheasant, Timefiddler, UCLS, Mental Holmes and ATRS. Frumpy Dumpster, United Mutations, Panspermia and the Friday Rock Show. All with beautiful sound design and irreverent humour. Join Adgeen and Tony on their two-hour rock show 'The Friday Rock Show', reading our listener stories live on air, among the greatest rock & metal songs of the time. It's a bit of a giggle and it helps support indie artists and not that pack of rapacious celebrity parasites. 

Hard rock hallelujah! Lordy, lordy, eh? Lordi? Who? Uh, no it’s not just the tune the Finns shat out, but it’s praise be for another sonic slab of Friday Rock Show. Hewn from the stratified limpet brains of Adgeen Byrne and Tony Wilson… They’ve alabastered themselves all over with The Friday Rock Show No.32. Pasty, lined and cold to the touch, we chip away at the dusty, gnarly face of the calcified absurdities of rock. There are chiselled boulders of inarticulate and explicit stories from our listeners, including Jagger, Uzbeki, Gabbler, Eric, Umar and Floyd Excelsior Ginkle. Not to mention the spits, curses and all round passive aggressiveness of Busher, for whom we roll some Aha out in honour of his favourite band. They write in, we read out and all sorts of tectonic shifts ensue. We blow some speakers with Manowar, head to California with the Red Hot Chili Peppers and get stoned with Tool. Letter-writer Gabbler flies back later in the show perched atop his Millenium Sirocco to give us his Sci-Fi Spot and there’s always time for a bit of ‘Don’t Fuck Up The Microphone’. However, the stupendous ego of Leo soon bounces raggedly into our view, sending us his story of studying ‘boom frequencies’ and claiming false sexual conquests. Come rappel down the smooth eroded slope of The Friday Rock Show No.32 with us and let’s get Alabastered together. Simply the best, highest, thin-aired peak of rock shows, on a Friday. It's certainly not 'Full Metal Jackie' if that's what you're thinking. Amplevoicepod create original, scripted, character & plot-driven comedy dramas. We construct fully immersive HD audio adventures. More than just a podcast, we are the Voice of Pod. Listen now to adventures from Mount Pheasant, Timefiddler, UCLS, Mental Holmes and ATRS. Frumpy Dumpster, United Mutations, Panspermia and the Friday Rock Show. All with beautiful sound design and irreverent humour. Join Adgeen and Tony on their two-hour rock show 'The Friday Rock Show', reading our listener stories live on air, among the greatest rock & metal songs of the time. It's a chaotic camaraderie. Find us, follow, subscribe and like.

Love your ears, let them flop and dangle along to the mighty Twenty Year Special from The Friday Rock Show. Adgeen and Tony have sparred over the microphone and gotten smart with each other for decades now. They’ve taunted, tricked and traded barbs. They’ve hocked, wheezed, sneezed and spat. Belched, burped and broke wind in a box room down in a basement, far away from polite society. And a good job too. Festering in their own bile and rancid juices, fermenting the next Friday Rock Show, the next strange story within and the next ignorant riposte across the airwaves. Listeners’ letters are attacked at will. There’s bemusery from Payter Farher, Fabian Mortimer, Baldy, Jagger, Simon Spratt, Turlough, Tucker, Shay Mozzarelli, Busher and Tom Shergar to name but most of them. It’s a symphony of sick, a cornucopia of crazy and a damn good time hearing their tales. Also there’s actually some rock ejaculated across the riotous correspondence, pretty little ditties from Queens of the Stone Age, Type O Negative, System of a Down and more multisyllabic bands. Oh and Udo… Remember him? Surely you accept you know him, your balls would be to the walls if you didn’t. But this time, his solo effort was The Tune The Box Spat Out. Pity. Then look no more for some ‘Mad Moments’, a hastily strewn together pile of puerility taken from the most recent ten years of shows up to the time this one went out, which by now is a long time ago but thanks to this you have the change to time travel back to when it was now. Celebrate this jamboree of juvenility, this orgy of originality and rejoice, for the weekend is here, with the weekend men propelling the most intense podcast on the planet. This is the Twenty Year Special from The Friday Rock Show. Amplevoicepod create original, scripted, character & plot-driven comedy dramas. We construct fully immersive HD audio adventures. More than just a podcast, we are the Voice of Pod. © Copyright Amplevoicepod

This is when me and dirty ol’ bastard Adgeen Byrne went to the seaside, set up the Rock Pool and did a live radio broadcast from the Silver Strand in the cold of an Irish summer. It’s The Friday Rock Show at the Silver Strand. Yis don’t know where it is? Well, hint, it’s not yer granny’s landing strip down on the old acre, no, it’s a beach on the east coast of Ireland. It’s the ‘greatest shingle beach’ in the world, so say the desperate local tourist office, as they try stop residents fly-tipping across the dunes. Now it’s a painful fact, I don’t like the sun. Too big a star for me and I hate stars. Mostly the cunty ones living on this Earth… You know the sort, the attention beggars; ‘buy my shite ‘til I inject more botox.’   Thankfully I missed most of it. I’ve a 33-year studio tan, buried deep in patchbays, ribbon mics and big faders. Adgeen had to drag me off with the hat on and the talons out, to hit the beach and splash around. Nearly had a spasm. We dove into the wrinkly rock pool with submerged cassettes for music, unprovoked aggression for entertainment and other strange things that are not quite right. We’ve an array of wonderment in the show; ‘Pull the Nogger’, ‘Sgt. Bourney’s Lonely Rock Club Band’, ‘Professor Critic’, ‘Turgidy’ and ‘Areyamadindehed’. Plus stories from Colm, Busher, Katja, Joey Kafola, Gunnar Murphy and Baldy. We spurt out some great Paramore, Helloween, Nickleback, Bon Jovi, Judas Priest and Linkin Park too. So unsheathe the feet, grate off the hard skin and head on down with Adgeen and Tony of The Friday Rock Show to the Silver Strand and splash around with us, here on this teeny 2.20 minute grain of a clip, where it’s indisputably confirmed that DJ Adgeen is a dirty ol’ bastard. Then bask in the awesome full-length show wriggling down the streams yonder. Amplevoicepod create original, scripted, character & plot-driven comedy dramas. We construct fully immersive HD audio adventures. More than just a podcast, we are the Voice of Pod.

Aul’ Skool is a retro lovin’, halcyon, gimlet-eye view of successful rock artists being nearly creatively healthy in 1987 (when our Friday Rock Show was first spat out), only for said rockers to be haggard, stale and still hanging on decades later… Just like us to be fair. Who said rock was for the young? They’re dead now! We go Aul’ Skool with AC/DC, Metallica, Guns N’ Roses, Doro and Judas Priest! They play us their hollow, jaded updated versions of themselves. As artists they say they have grown. Grown what though? Grown rancid carbuncles! Bigger? Better? Bullshite! Listen what you think on The Friday Rock Show Aul’ Skool special… There’s correspondence from Dick Roache, ignoble flaccid member of the Irish parliament, worrying about everyone being unemployable again, Orcun The Keskin worrying about everything else and DJ Grooverider being ‘banged up in the Arabs’ as he puts it, in his mockney twang. And then there’s Boba Fenton. Boba has had it hard with women. So Boba wrote to the Friday Rock Show to explain. Over 4 distraught emails! So we bring you an exciting love-lorn quadrilogy ‘What is it with Women Eh?’ But wait! Achtung baby! It’s Doro Pesch! Ich liebe dich für immer! There's nothing The Friday Rock Show likes more than to squeeze the stars into our tiny, dingy, slightly Limburger-smelling studio. And that's what we did with German Metal icon Doro Pesch many moons ago. And what a lovely lady our little Nackenbrecher was. DJ Adgeen Byrne was agog at her radiating Germanliness and I could only gurn spasmodically, grab me root and kneel nervously ahind the mixing desk. Along the way we did manage to get a few words out of her and, lucky for youse, I taped it! From the FRS 35, Aul' Skool, this is real Warlock babaay. Ja for sure! And, yep, you eagle-eared eejits, Doro wasn't sure we understood the song title ‘Herzblut’. But we did, or at least I did. Adgeen couldn't stop staring. Herzblut is indeed 'Heartsblood' meaning, like: "My thousand daily lusts after young ones are like great chains of iron on my spirit, and my soul shrivels inside me as if weeping heart's-blood from a thousand cuts, as I realise I am too old to get me hole from them". Now yis understand? Knorke! Amplevoicepod create original, scripted, character & plot-driven comedy dramas. We construct fully immersive HD audio adventures. More than just a podcast, we are the Voice of Pod.

Live, on a Friday, the mighty meniscus rubbing Friday Rock Show is back! And back with Pat Shaughnessy! Pat is the one and only guitarist from Greenane in Wicklow, Ireland. He performs in the double-jumper guitar suit the mother made him and not long ago he joined DJ Adgeen Byrne and me, Tony Wilson, on this here show up at the North Pole! Yes. The North Pole. Pat played us a few of his icy chords in his icy cords as we were sent up North by management to broadcast, as they said, our "highly overrated yet frustratingly popular" rock show. We huddled in our 'Rock Igloo' to give you the very best to warm up your tubes. We bring you Norman Tash and his (very) drunk geography, crispy biscuits and Pat 'The Fingerer' Shaughnessy in all his encrusted glory playing you some Joe Satriani, Led Zeppelin and eh, Vanilla Ice... Stories and twisted tales aplenty too from Uncle Nobber, Lindor, Alberto, Tucker, Busher and Sheany Van Vesterhaysen. So it's time to rock down to, the Rock Igloo... Nobody takes you higher! (For at least 2 hours, 30 mins)... Amplevoicepod create original, scripted, character & plot-driven comedy dramas. We construct fully immersive HD audio adventures. More than just a podcast, we are the Voice of Pod.

Come along, come along, join DJ Adgeen Byrne and me, Tony Wilson, as we pull on the wellies to slide down into Dangleberry Farm! A live radio broadcast from the heartland. We get to grips with the manure and silage of farm owner Bert Kavanagh, with his tales of piggery and the Pink Floyd. We also get up to the neck in the latest farming practises and rural life from Dargle Bourke, Jem Kinsella and Turtle Desmond. There's reporting from Bertie Boylan on the terrible floods, Micko Madigan harvesting trees and Paddy is on the beer (isn't Paddy always?). There are lambs, chickens, heifers, sucklers and a host of other beasts including The Gabbler and his 'Sci-fi Spot' AND enter Professor Critic's aural abattoir to witness another Bon Jovi LP slaughtering. There’s home-made Pearl Jam, Backyard Babies and even planting astrology with Fabian Mortimer. So, fire up the harvester, for it's a bulbous Friday Rock Show No. 37, spraying live organophosphates in your face. This is only a 3 minute fleck of dung to bring you back to the land. To really become racy of the soil, jump in the Massey Ferguson 135 down to the co-op and suck diesel off the big bags of podcast below. Amplevoicepod create original, scripted, character & plot-driven comedy dramas. We construct fully immersive HD audio adventures. More than just a podcast, we are the Voice of Pod.

It's The Friday Rock Show again ladlogs and ladybirds, where we meet the Stargeezers. For those with one eye always on the sky, we go live to Jibbler’s Bell at the Fairly Astronomical Telescope to catch sight of some supernovae where DJ Adgeen Byrne and yours truly Tony Wilson sniff some serious spacedust with starman and renowned cosmologist Breeny Mox, so soon after his facial surgery too.  Breeny's a geezer and so are we, as we head out into the night, out and about up the fields, in other people's jackets, to search for the meaning of life. Back at base, Breeny regales the visitors to Jibbler's Bell with his cosmologically-sized brain and his hatred of astrology.  Elsewhere in the show there's news of The Chicken Wing Riots and Jagger travels over the moon to Camden, London with his new love Amy. There's Tucker, there's Sinead and there's some melodramatic whinging from Peter Mayhem too. Oh and don't forget to 'Pull The Nogger', an occasional segment where we attempt to understand our sexuality, or something.  Music from Electric Eel Shock, Texas Hippie Coalition, Aquabats and many more. Reach for the stars if you ever get out of the bed. We hope this short spacey scoop of science-y stuff will stir your lugubrious lugholes. Be kind to your ears, serve them Amplevoicepod.  Amplevoicepod create original, scripted, character & plot-driven comedy dramas. We construct fully immersive HD audio adventures. More than just a podcast, we are the Voice of Pod

Once there back a few years gone, we at The Friday Rock Show took to self-flagellating and honouring our magnificence and munificence by forcefully celebrating 25 years in the rock biz not long ago. Well it was in 2012, quite a fair bit ago, but we did start roaring into a microphone in June 1987 so what's a 'fair bit ago' to us anyway? Tshuh... Hence me, best producer ever, Tony Wilson, and overpaid preening DJ Adgeen Byrne, flashed you our 'Silverbacks'. Silverback is a Friday Rock Show anniversary special showcasing a quarter of a century’s ('87-'12, keep up now) advancing idiocy with an outcast of unwell wishers, letter-mad fans such as Jagger, Kevin, Boba Fenton and also Baldy (how'd he get in again?). Even the Gabbler strips off to shove his 'Sci-fi Spot' in our faces. And oh, there are those favourite slots that just get you hot: there's the 'Best Bits', 'Don't Fuck Up The Microphone' and 'Areyemadinthehead'! Who? Just listen to this 2hr 40min monster and then you’ll grab the bull’s horn. It’s a celebration of unbound nonsense with deft sound design and originality. A proper radio show to slide into on your headphones. Like it, love it, come ask for more and I'll give you watcha need. I'm here for you. Inside the bowels of this mighty Silverback is a special ‘Ahind The Music’ documentary, charting the show’s inexplicable rise to dominance, hosted by the one-and-thankfully-only Paul Gombatuna. It's HUGE. And it's amazing. And it's great an' an' everything! So come join us on our oddcast odyssey. Amplevoicepod create original, scripted, character & plot-driven comedy dramas. We construct fully immersive HD audio adventures. More than just a podcast, we are the Voice of Pod. Listen now to adventures from Mount Pheasant, Timefiddler, UCLS, Mental Holmes and ATRS. Frumpy Dumpster, United Mutations, Panspermia and the Friday Rock Show. All with beautiful sound design and irreverent humour. Join Adgeen and Tony on their two-hour rock show 'The Friday Rock Show', reading our listener stories live on air, among the greatest rock & metal songs of the time. Do it fam'...

Would you look at the size of the cocker on this! The Friday Rock Show, as voted #1 podcast in the world by the stiffs at the Groin-iad, unleashes "90 minutes of sheer hell" (as John Barnes used to say when he took the Lucozade) with their 'Massive Cocker'.  THE FRS #40 contains all you need to aid your recovery and “get in ‘round the back” (as Barnsey enthused for cash back in the ’80s). 'A Massive Cocker' is super squeaky clean and refreshing too. We’ve music from The Blackout, Audrey Horne, The Beards (askin’ if you’ve “ever had sex with a bearded man?”) and then there’s- wait, hold up there, ‘bearded men’?  Isn't the world jammed up to the hilt with these sockless, tattooed beardysexuals with their tight blue chinos and brown brogues? All flickin’ their pads, strutting assertively to the toilet after yet another caramel caffè macchiato? What happened to real men hah?  Anyway, forget about the absurd world around you and serve your ears more music from Amaranthe, Less Than Jake and VOLBEAT! (I love Volbeat, did I ever tell you that?) But more importantly than more music is more letters read out on air by stingy tight-hole DJ Adgeen Byrne and me Tony Wilson, sexy producer... There’s Itchy Kraut on about his mate Zinedine Zidane, then there are Seamus Canaan, Professor Critic, Tucker in 101BC, Orpheus Telch and Prince Gwandinus Bollokiah! Household names one and all.  'A Massive Cocker' is sponsored by the PET-E-SURE pet insurance company and we even run a promotion for them in the show too.  Amplevoicepod also make lovely sound-designed ear-film comedy drama adventures where we submerge your ears in a sea of sound. We create original, scripted, character & plot-driven comedy dramas. We construct fully immersive HD audio adventures. More than just a podcast, we are the Voice of Pod.

This is it, this is the BIG one! The Friday Rock Show loosens the ladies' lips! On the FRS #41 we invited five of the biggest female front-women in rock on the show and chat to them about what drives them into the cliched, male-dominated, slightly-backward world of heavy metal. There's Suzuka Nakamoto, Elize Ryd, Sharon Den Adel, Taylor Momsen (who said she fucked a priest, but she was only cackin' out her arse as usual... Pretty reckless of her I'd say), and Maria Brink, to put us men in our place. Plus a surprise guest for my superstar preening DJ Adgeen Byrne, bringing back his obsessive memories of standing outside her window, writing 500 letters. And I had to help the poor tool. We play their music, we love their voices and we listen to them all night long. It's the Queens of the New Rage. Also, if that wasn't enough for yis, we've listeners' letters read out live on air from Baldy (again, he's like a bad smell), Dwayne and his diary, Jo Hoff De Bongerd, Tasher Singh, Martin J Tyler floats across the fields in a very trippy tale of lost love and we round off the 2-hour feminine feast with Busher and his 'THWAPPY PAA'! What is a 'Thwappy Paa'? I'm not sure, and I was there, but I'll listen again to find out. And you can too, grab the full length on all the podcastery sites below. So just join Adgeen and Tony on their two-hour rock show 'The Friday Rock Show', reading our listener stories live on air, among the greatest rock & metal songs of the time. Dare to be odd. Amplevoicepod create original, scripted, character & plot-driven comedy dramas. We construct fully immersive HD audio adventures. More than just a podcast, we are the Voice of Pod. © Copyright Amplevoicepod 

The Friday Rock Show No. 42 has jumped into the shell suit, slapped on the goggles, hoiked up the neck gaiter mask and clicked into its K2 alpine skis to launch down the black slopes of Kvamskogen in Western Norway.   There are no Øs in sight 'round here as producer Tony Wilson with savant presenter Adgeen Byrne head out into the cold once again and arrive in the 'copter at the Norwegian resort of Kvamskogen.   They took the tunes, pulled down the bobble hats and tore up the piste. They interviewed singer Toshie from Audrey Horne over the phone and had lots of great listeners' letters read out live on air.   There were big sick ones from Jagger, Clement, Payter, Jo Hoff, Tucker and the BEST day EVER for The Gabbler. We played moshin' metal music too from all sorts of lads and lassies. So if you like that sort of thing, with actual fun and excitement with presenters, and not just an automatic 24-hr playlist on your internet radio, then you'll love this! And who wouldn't? re.   Here's the bare majesty of the 2-hour super-duper version up inside your lugs and tonguing you aurally, available on all the lovely podcast platforms below.   Amplevoicepod creates original explicit storytelling. We make HD audio podcasts to sternly tongue your earhole. We try not to follow others, don't cross the easy fields and have lived in blissful ignorance across millennia in the backwoods of Wicklow, Ireland.   We make ear-film adventures. Full effects-laden audio productions with plots, characters and immersive sounds. It takes about 70 hours of production in writing, recording and editing to make 1 hour of output. We take lumps out of each other as we sculpt our latest mutation.   To relax we switch on the mics, open our lungs and bellow out this type of 2-hour rock show, playing the best music dug up on a Friday. Tautologically titled 'The Friday Rock Show' it's just us and a few listener letters, which are lovingly read out on air. It's DJ Adgeen Byrne and producer Tony Wilson spitting and sparring to send you into sonic convulsions.   Started in 1987, this saga has continued down through the ages with over 500 stories read out on air, from a wide variety of intriguingly demented souls. So find us, follow, subscribe and like. © Copyright Amplevoicepod

Battle Breasts! Yes! This is The Friday Rock Show! Episode No. 43... Another two hours of MADNESS!! I created this show back probably before you were even born and turned out the way you did. I'm sorry 'bout that. But looka! I'm on the cover of this show too, 'coz I'm a glory-hole. In this episode we get down on the phone to Noora Louhimo from the band Battle Beast as she tells us tales of running around the Finnish forests naked with the other band members. Then the 'Black Swordsman' jumps out and you know yis can never go back then. We hear bizarre, bemusing but brilliant stories from Tom Shergar, Baldy, Mimi, Cathy, Eric, Tucker and even a big sick story from Payter Farher as my ever presenting donkey DJ Adgeen Byrne tries to keep up in his old age. Music too from many moshers will keep you tappin' the toenail off the bed corner. And listen up now, this is only a 2-minute dribble off the full fat 2-hour show itself. The whole lot of this FRS No. 43 and much more is blatantly exposed and shameless tarted up on all good podcastery as seen below.  © Copyright Amplevoicepod

Tony Wilson here, producer extraordinaire, bringing you another great promotion clip of The Friday Rock Show from Amplevoicepod.  This is from episode 44, christened WOOL FREAKS. The title taken from a great story sent in by regular listener Busher. We play 10 rock songs of the day and read out 10 listener letters over two hours. That's the routine. It's a rock show with added audio drama. We've been at this for years. We're fairly alright at it. We were bred mouldy but we were podcasting back in '87, when all other podcasts were just fields.  Seismic story contributor Busher is joined by Pastor Badpaw, Orpheus Telch, Mikayla, John Paul Slaney, Foggy, Macaroon and more of our dodgy correspondents who get their beautiful tales teased out on air by DJ Adgeen Byrne, unably supported by me; producer Tony Wilson. So please, let us tongue you aurally. Listen in, follow and maybe be a regular returnee, comment, contribute, say hi, and enjoy all of the current and future fantastic audio we dig up from our backwoods in Wicklow, Ireland.  We at Amplevoicepod also make ear-film comedy drama adventures where we submerge your ears in a sea of sound, putting you at the heart of the story along with our heroes. Bursting out original feature-length stories with over 40 titles and 50+ characters, all created from collaborative ideas and sculpted over months to arrive at the final mix. Check out Mount Pheasant, Frumpy Dumpster, ATRS, Panspermia, United Mutations, Mental Holmes and more!   © Copyright Amplevoicepod

Rejoice! The weekend is here! It's The Friday Rock Show No. 45 from Amplevoicepod. Two hours of rock, listener stories, explicit musings and nonsense. Remember the name. You'll have never heard as good before. This time The Friday Rock Show is here to react to all the absurdity happening in the world with a simple vote: will it be that a HARD BAGS IT or that a SOFT BAGS IT? What does it all mean? Who cares who bags what? But just what is the answer? It's the ultimate question of life, the Universe, and everything! Is it really '42'? No! It's 45! It's the FRS No. 45! And it's discovered through not much thought and in only about two hours. We on the FRS, me producer Tony Wilson and super stupid presenter Adgeen Byrne, decided to ask you, as if you could be trusted, to vote whether the five HARDBAG metal songs we play on the show are better or worse than the five SOFTBAG metal ballads we also play yis. Who bags the victory? Soft metal or hard metal? Listen in and find out. We've stories from our listeners; Baldy, A Foreign Girl, Kate Beckinsale (great fan of the show BTW), Jagger, Sean, Pastor Badpaw, Breeny Mox and even old regular Lindor talks about 'Twelve Inch Taylor'! Bidda fuk. Amplevoicepod make ear-film comedy drama adventures where we submerge your ears in a sea of sound, putting you at the heart of the story along with our heroes. Bursting out feature-length stories with over 40 titles and 50+ characters, all created from collaborative ideas and sculpted over months to arrive at the final mix. Streaming our oddcast now on all good audiophilic emporia.  © Copyright Amplevoicepod

Welcome to The Friday Rock Show No-47 - Moshtalgia 1986. It's the Friday Rock Show! It's 1986!  It's a 'Moshtalgia' special. Annamoe man Pat Shaughnessy joins us to deliver his unique interpretations of the classic songs that year.  Plus our dear listeners Jagger, Chris Whackum, Prince Nigel, Gerry Dixon and Tucker Peacock get their beautiful stories read out on air by DJ Adgeen Byrne and disputably supported by me, producer Tony Wilson. Mosh!  So please, come on in for a listen, follow and maybe be one of the very first to say; "I was there" at the start of something amazing in oddcasting.  Be a regular returnee, comment, contribute, say hi, and enjoy all of the current and future fantastic aural alchemy Amplevoicepod has to offer.  Bred mouldy in the backwoods of Wicklow, Ireland. Listen in, we're streaming now. Catch our ear-film feature-length adventures. Amplevoicepod make lovely sound-designed ear-film comedy drama adventures where we submerge your ears in a sea of sound, putting you at the heart of the story along with our heroes. Bursting out feature-length stories with over 40 titles and 50+ characters, all created from collaborative ideas and sculpted over months to arrive at the final mix. A tsunami of explicit sickness. Hope to see you here.  © Copyright Amplevoicepod

It's the Friday Rock Show live in Russia during the World Cup 2018, from the Fisht stadium in Sochi. Presented by Adgeen Byrne and producer Tony Wilson. We're ensconced in the bowels of the stadium for the England v Panama match.  We've got 8 fantastic full-foley listener stories from Payter, Berty Gock, The Weatherman, Baldy, Mauldy x2, Tucker and a fanatical one from Jagger:  "Last time we spoke I was alone in the world. Mocked and excluded for being a religious fanatic. I believed my Lord had forsaken me until the kindness of an old woman came to me like a candle in the darkness. Since then I have cut myself off from anyone who ever mattered to me in the world and live a monastic existence roaming the hills of Greenane by day and retiring to the shelter of my rented room by night. Late one night following prayers and meditation I allowed myself the comfort of a spliff as I sat down in front of the TV."  "As marijuana is one of God’s plants, the lord put it here for us to enjoy. I rolled up a fat one and settled down. After a few tokes I must have passed out for a bit on the couch but woke up to a startling announcement. The government were legalising the crime of murder for one night in an order to tackle the rising population and crime. All I could do was re-light the joint and inhale once again to calm my nerves. For the second time I must have went back to sleep to be awoken by the sound of warning klaxons. It had begun, already? I fell off the sofa and scrambled around for my keys to lock the place up. This wasn’t right. My own government condoning murder? I reached for the anti-depressants the doctor had prescribed me. Panic started to grip me...".  Hear the near 9-minute adventure into the heart of sickness from Jagger. Plus we've lots of great rock music from the time to nod your bonce to. So come in, scan your ticket and join us for a five-star five-finger death fishting in Sochi.  The Friday Rock Show No #46, live in Russia. Two hours of madness. Some online scribbler said recently 'twas the Russians that caused all the bad reviews for that last Jedi Star Wars film, I dunno, I've no fuckin' interest. Me and Adgeen were actually out in Russia and we met Kris who helped us speak the local, and I even got to punch World Cup mascot Zabivaka. He nearly split me forehead open with his bottle of Moskovskaya Osobaya. It was madness!  Anyway, down in Sochi they were all great craic. But back to that overblown sci-fi and occasional FRS contributor Professor Critic; he loves all the George Lucas shite, he cares a whole lot, but does he have faith no more as he lets rip his acerbic sneer on this most touchy of fanboy subjects? Usually over the last ten years the Professor just likes to pop up every time Jon Bon Jovi drops an emotional turd and duly murders him with words. But this time it's personal. Listen to this 7 minute desecration of The Last Jedi and 'evaluate the use of your own opinion' as they say in psychodiagnostics.  Only on the Friday Rock Show, live in Russia. In the Fisht.  © Copyright Amplevoicepod

I hurt now when I think of what I did. Not out of guilt or fear of discovery. But for not doing it sooner! I gave up life at 18. College, friends, adventure, all snapped away by the predatory comfort of a man 10 years older. My brain twisted to his very need. He was like a parasite. Then up the duff in a shot! Ah I don’t blame the Old Bruiser for the three lives he gave me, only for the one he took away. 19 years... But I made up for lost time in the last 9. I look one once again at Leo Hancock’s email for our school reunion. Thursday 5pm. St. Savilles. ‘Don’t Bring Partners’ Leo writes in capitals. Well that’s me sorted Mister! He still holds a flame, God love ‘im. Look at all those smileys. Thursday 5pm. Today. In two hours… Ah here! Shut that laptop Lindor! You’ve no time to root ‘round the past. You have to get ready! Put some lippy on! Tart yourself up woman! Hmm, I wonder would I fit in that little green dress now. Where do I have it? I’d say it’d be a bit too tight for me. But look it, everything is a bit too tight now. Not afraid to admit it. No ‘plenty on the table’ anymore! No steady income after the Outreach Centre shut down and I was going without dinners. The fear of frumpy dumpster still possessed me. And as I looked in the mirror those lines were getting longer. I’m not the vivacious 44-year old of two years ago that had men falling dead at her feet. I’m just a widower who is expected to slowly disappear from society. And what if I did? Leona has Donnacha. Rooster and Jarvis are off on their adventures and they all know about family bereavement. This bottle of Pimms and this box of Solpadine don’t want me to leave this house… And who’ll stop me? Noone! (Unscrews) Yeah. (Rustle) Do it. (Silence). Right! I know exactly what I’ll do. But first… .  I looked in the mirror. The old floral halter-neck hugged my undulating fat but I didn’t care. It was my green dress! I strapped on my black heels, grabbed the keys and slammed the door. I walked to the credit union. Hiya hun! Here’s me book, can I take out all the savings please! Outside I saw a bike leaning on a railing. It was unlocked. Idiot. That’s mine now! I giggled, and stole it. I wobbled inelegantly, picking up speed, wind fluttering up me chute but I was free as I bombed downhill and turned right. Into St. Saville’s Vocational School driveway. Memories flooded back as I freewheeled in. Horse Chestnut tree! Broken glass! Overflowing bins! Mouldy prefabs! Ah, plus ça change! But wait, when I arrived at the main entrance it looked all boarded up. When did this happen? Is it derelict? It’s Thursday 5pm. It’s St. Saville’s but no-one’s around. I hopped off the bike and left it on the rusty railing. In the corner of my eye I saw a laminated white sign pinned to the boarded up entrance. I walked up. It said ‘Lion Productions’. Where did I know that name from? Suddenly the boarded hording rumbled and it flung open on creaky hinges and I was face to face with an old flame in a ruby v-neck jumper! “Hello Lindaur!” he said in a resounding horn. Leo Hancock! Hi ya! Oh god! Is it really you? “Welcome to Lion Productions! It’s reunion night tonight!” he smiled. What? You work HERE? In the old tech? He told me St. Saville’s Vocational moved two years ago to a new facility up near the factory and he took this place over. “Come on upstairs, I have something to show you”. He took my hand. This was so surreal. We walked up the same old oak stairs that were now splitting, saw the same flaky beige paint that was all but peeled off and smelled the same must that almost made me choke. And Leo’s office was, I don’t believe it, ah stop! Directly across from Room 4! Oh my God! Leo opened his door. We walked in. Leo was some snazzy dresser with the creases in his tailored yellow chinos sharp as the angles on his freckled face. I inhaled the subtle smell of Clive Christian aftershave as he bored into me with his green eyes. Frumpy Dumpster is an Amplevoicepod feature-length Ear-film. A podcast with bite. The fateful story of Lindor Lamb, a middle-aged woman who has just about had enough of men. As a young woman, those were naive care-free days for Lindor, until that is when she encountered Payter Mayhem at Charry Marry Fun Park and school headmaster Sean Wrigley. Further anguish was caused by her husband, the 'Old Bruiser' himself. Frumpy Dumpster is a feature-length explicit and sometime farcical story from Amplevoicepod. We create original, scripted, character & plot-driven comedy dramas. We construct fully immersive HD audio adventures. More than just a podcast, we are the Voice of Pod.

But how? “Follow me” she said smiling, and led me out past the back of Ratchly Chemical Factory, which I was a little nervous about, then on through the Ratchly woods and up just outside Charry Marry Fun park. It was a beautiful sunny day, about 3pm so I had another hour before making the dinner and bringing it over to Michael in ‘his house’ as he then liked to scream at me. Ah Michelle was goin’ good-o with the stories of how she never got married and that there were no good men in the town anyway. I said I know, I hadn’t seen a proper man in years and only for Floyd I’d have forgotten what a massive mangler looked like. Michelle gaped at me and said: “Oh, you should see what they feel like”. She stared. I didn’t know what to say. That’s when we heard it. (Whistle) Michelle said to follow her. So I did. We ventured in our suede boots and loose scarves to a clearing. There stood four middle-aged men and from a distance they looked like they were out of a Crowded House video from the 80’s. Michelle took my hand. The biggest fella approached, spat the fag from his gob and it was then that I recognised him! It was Brendan! Brendan Barty! The best Gaelic footballer of all St. Saville’s! My old classmate! Oh my God, and was that Gavin Moore behind him? And that’s definitely Clement Gansella! What the Janey? But I said nothing. Then at the rear and scuffing his shoes was a man with a familiar sound.  “Wheeeezeeee!” It was J.J.! Jagger Jordan! I looked at him in horror. We had just met in the morning! But he looked different, as if vacant, as they all lined up. J.J., Brendan, Gavin and Clement! Just like our yearbook from ‘91. A semi-school reunion in the woods outside the Fun Park. “Good woman yourself Michelle, she’s a hefty one!” said Brendan, staring at my buxom motherlode, not seeming to recognise me. And neither did Gavin or Clement. As for J.J.? He just stared ahead with bloodshot eyes. Well, I thought to myself, probably a kilo-a-year since three of them last saw me. Yep, eighteen extra kilos will do that to a girl! And never mind the slabs of black eye-liner I got off Michelle too! Yet there was no hint of them recognising their classmate 18 years on! Were they letting on? And if not, surely I didn’t want to tell them. I was too busy sweating! Which made what was about to happen one of the strangest episodes of my life. And it was a wonder too that J.J. kept his mouth shut about seeing me that morning at the flat! But soon, I was to realise why… “Ready? Sure let’s burst it on!” said Brendan again. He sounded brain damaged. Must have been all those years fighting a football. But I was mesmerised. What were we all doin’ in this field Michelle? Just then I made out the big bent helmet under Brendan’s grey stonewash jeans. His fashion sense was always rubbish. His hammer twitched as Brendan took me by the hand. I jolted. No man had done that in such a gentle way since Floyd. I blinked. Gavin said I was a “very sexy woman” with “big milk and blood.” I don’t know if he had been on drugs the whole time since school but I tell ya, I only went crimson! Then as quick as a snot Clement whips out his skinny aul’ creamy flute and starts riffin’ off strokes! One after the other like a piston engine! Ah! I looked around for Michelle but all I saw was Brendan and Gavin staring at me, each flickin’ their nervous flogs in me face! Oh my God! I was mortified! I hadn’t seen this amount of penis since Michael taped over the wedding video for spite. “Yeah, yeaaaah, take this bitch, have and hold this forever, ya cunt.” Frumpy Dumpster is an Amplevoicepod feature-length Ear-film. A podcast with bite. The fateful story of Lindor Lamb, a middle-aged woman who has just about had enough of men. As a young woman, those were naive care-free days for Lindor, until that is when she encountered Payter Mayhem at Charry Marry Fun Park and school headmaster Sean Wrigley. Further anguish was caused by her husband, the 'Old Bruiser' himself. Frumpy Dumpster is a feature-length explicit and sometime farcical story from Amplevoicepod. We create original, scripted, character & plot-driven comedy dramas. We construct fully immersive HD audio adventures. More than just a podcast, we are the Voice of Pod.

After I came back from hospital the kids were little angels and Michael was feeling sorry for the burst of anger. Ah you couldn’t blame him. He was embarrassed after shitting himself on the floor and I was the nearest thing to him. Thank god it wasn’t Nadia or any of our kids. He did get his moods alright, but I still think that was one of those isolated incidents and sure there’s no-one to blame. He even let me watch him do his nude portraits as I couldn’t go for a run as me broken nose hurt too much. There was Nadia on the bed, joined by mum Sharon! Sharon kept fit in her thirties and you knew she knew she was still a good thing! Two of them there lying on the duvet, all smiles, naked as the day they were born. Michael studying them intensely in his dressing gown. He got it as a gift from his mother on the anniversary when I happened to be in the hospital getting me nose set straight. I got a dressing gown too. It was so sweet of her. There I was, in the bedroom, me and Michael in our matching dressing gowns. Michael’s positioning Nadia’s legs over Sharon’s to expose their bits so he could capture the best pose for his painting when doesn’t his dressing gown accidentally fall open and his hairy man dangler flops out for all to see! “Ah would ya look at that,” laughed Michael. I was in shock! Thankfully the girls seemed unfazed as it flapped straight out onto Sharon’s stomach. She, god bless the woman, took it in her hand and helped him put it back in his dressing gown. Sharon’s such a sweetheart. I think Michael was a little aroused by this. I could tell. Little Michael was always popping out from then on. And Sharon was always helping it back in. Sometimes even Nadia lent a hand. This was so great to see my hubby the artist, with his passion at work concentrating, and concentrating very hard too. Now, I didn’t want to step out of line, but I thought I could do just a good a job as Nadia or Sharon in a pose like that. I mean, lying on pillows with your legs open, how hard was it? You’d be away in a hack with that kinda job wouldn’t ya? So there I was, in the bedroom, not a stitch on under the dressing gown. I had to do it. I jumped up, whipped off the gown, dived on the bed and cocked my arse in the air. Paint me darling, paint me! I yelped, surprised at my own excitement. I think I even squirted! Michael though was in no mood for interruption. I got a spray of blue paint on me arse and he tells me to- “Fuck off and make tea for the girls and be of some real use!” Ah, I thought, it was probably best left to them. They didn’t need my stretch-marked moon base destroying the view. But as I made tea in the kitchen I caught my reflection in the cracked glass cupboard. Broken nose. A flabby motherlode of tits. Bruises. A “fat whore!” as Michael would’ve joked. Then the flashbacks came. The punches, the put downs…. I gripped the spoon. I had changed so much physically in the 17 years since St. Saville’s. Saggy jaw, pot belly and a massive arse… I was the original: Frumpy Dumpster!  Something had to change! Yes sir-ee! And it really did change. It started during my dad’s funeral. Michael was drinking heavily. He had already drunk his way through a gallon of Guinness and threw up on me dad’s open face in the casket. Everyone was horrified. “Ya fuckin’ idiot”. “He should be the one in that coffin…”. “Fuck me. That better! Ah howaya Father… Lovely weather.” “It is Michael, it is.” That was the end. I had absorbed it for long enough. So I decided to go back to school! Yes! I tell ya now, I was dead chuffed. There were adult classes on in St. Saville’s and I know I said I’d never set foot in the place again but this was different. Sharon said I should have divorced the Old Bruiser but sure Michael would’ve hunted me down, chopped me up and fed me to his pigs. Yeah pigs! He was into the home farmin’ then, god love ‘im. At least it kept him out of the house and I didn’t mind the stink in the bed too much. No, it was better to get an education so as to handle the worse extremes of Michael’s personality. I know! It was staring me in the face for so long! I’m such a fool really. Well no more sister! I rolled up me dungaree sleeves, hopped in the Highlander and drove up St. Saville’s driveway at 6pm. Two hours-a-go, three nights a week. I couldn’t get Psychology that I wanted, so I took Drama instead. Sure it was the only one left after I arrived late for the sign-up. Thanks Michael for throwing the car keys down the toilet! An’ doin’ one of your aul’ ‘big ones’ on top. In the first class we met our drama teacher. Oh my god! I couldn’t believe my eyes! It was Floyd Taylor! The Floyd Taylor! Fresh from a two month stint ‘on the boards’ as he said, in Thailand! Thailand?! Would ya believe that now? I was amazed. Ol’ Mr Heavy Metal himself, the long locks shorn, out dancin’ in the far east, givin’ it mighty to the locals! I tell ya now, I was sold. This was me! ‘Waiting for Godot’, ‘King Lear’, the Vagina Monologues!’ And the old magic hadn’t gone away between Floyd and me. We took a shine to each other immediately. His face and torso were so taut! Nothing was lost. Nothing. Hello you! I said, as sprang up slowly to shake his hand. “You have such a powerful face Lindor. Such emotion. History.” Said Floyd sternly. Well, a few slaps would do that to a girl as I blushed and twiddled me straps. “Here’s a good costume for you, go and change into it.” He whispered. God, last time I stepped into a dress was at the funeral. I was mortified, but this was the moment to prove to myself that I was making the right choice. To hell with Sharon who said I was mad and “a big dopey fool” who should “know her place” and “well, fuck off then”. I snatched the green dress and headed behind the curtain to change. It was just like my old favourite. A green floral design with long hanging sleeves. Now, I used to remember trying on dresses back in the day when I had an arse worth the attention but this was all new; mirrors on three sides. And Floyd Taylor was now in the back changing too! I saw him in the mirror. Holy God he had a sausage on him that’d put Old Bruiser to shame; a big fat one with a bulbous vein forcing its way down the length to the helmet. I nearly flooded me knickers. Janey Mack! If I had known then what I saw now, I would’ve let him up on me back in ’91! What was I thinkin’? Him now here parading ‘round the room rehearsing his lines, not a stitch on him! His dangling bell launching itself from hip to hip had me mesmerised. Up to then I’d never seen such pure majesty! Frumpy Dumpster is an Amplevoicepod feature-length Ear-film. A podcast with bite. The fateful story of Lindor Lamb, a middle-aged woman who has just about had enough of men. As a young woman, those were naive care-free days for Lindor, until that is when she encountered Payter Mayhem at Charry Marry Fun Park and school headmaster Sean Wrigley. Further anguish was caused by her husband, the 'Old Bruiser' himself. Frumpy Dumpster is a feature-length explicit and sometime farcical story from Amplevoicepod. We create original, scripted, character & plot-driven comedy dramas. We construct fully immersive HD audio adventures. More than just a podcast, we are the Voice of Pod.

(Daytime TV channel hopping) “Before she’d get depressed…” “…exciting episode of…” “Leo! Leo the Lion, and Leo, he makes it safe here. Lion Productions provides quality cinematic products that inspire, innovate and entertain… It’s Leo the Lion…” (Advert) “Have you been burned alive and need compensation? Well phone us now on nought-nought-nought-two-six-four-eight-thousand, that’s right; nought-nought-nought-two-six-four-eight-thousand! Terms and conditions apply.” Hi yaaa! All men are wankers. You know that? Well as a wife, a mother, a worker, and a lover. I know. My name’s Lindor. And I am a frumpy dumpster. And I’m going to my school reunion if it’s the last thing I do. But this bottle of Pimms and this box of Solpadine… don’t want me to leave the house!               I hadn’t spoken to anyone in ages. I’d become a bit of a recluse. So when I got an email from old flame Leo Hancock, from St. Saville’s vocational school, the years disappeared and I was right back in 1991. In Room 4 upstairs, at the blackboard. Fooling around with long-haired Mr Heavy Metal himself, Floyd Taylor. The natural light shone in as I pulled the duster away from him. I was laughing. He blew chalk dust from the shelf at me.  I wasn’t messing you know, I wasn’t messing. It wasn’t the duster, I said. “Ahm… What?” Floyd replied, confused, tugging at his ruby-coloured jumper. It wasn’t the duster why I came here… you don’t believe me do you? You don’t believe me do you? I repeated. “Ok-aay” he answered. When I was trying to get the duster off you, I wasn’t sure of what was going to happen next. “Same here”, he said, “I felt like doing something, but was afraid of the reaction”. I looked at Floyd. Oh, so did I, I wanted to, but…. “Oh, don’t do this to me” he said. I know…, I answered. “You’re being cruel now. I could’ve… jus’ cruel…” he said. I looked him in the eyes and said: It’s not cruel. And stared. I think Floyd was aroused. “What about now”? he asked. Yep, I replied. Then we kissed. It was so electric. Even more so when I opened my eyes to see Leo watching us at the door. Me knickers were in floods.  “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this” Floyd said. I’ve wanted it too, I answered. There were so many boys in St. Saville’s back then. Floyd Taylor. Leo Hancock at Looseholes disco, Zuberi Jelani because his Dad ran a chip shop and he had a car an’, an’ many more since, that I don’t want to count. Never mind the other admirers, like Payter Mayhem and Sean Wrigley. But they were much older and they should’ve known better! I mean I was only 25 at the time when I was still working out at the ‘Charry Marry’ Fun park. I was crying because my husband Michael dropped me off at the entrance, taunting my weight as usual. “Fuckin’ fat cunt! If ya actually ran around lookin’ after the children ya might lose some kilos, ya lazy thick cunt!” The ‘Old Bruiser’ himself, up to his usual put downs and insults. I slammed the car door and got the keys from the reception to open up the park toilets. But janey mack! You wouldn’t believe this! The fun park owner Payter Mayhem was wanking over a huge photocopy of my Charry Marry application picture. A big A3 colour picture of me! Well, holy god now! I was so shocked, the buckles on my dungarees blew off! Now I thought I was a decent looking girl at 25 then, but to find my boss tossing off to a huge picture of me when I applied to the park aged 12, was well, a bit sick. I didn’t wait for the apology. No sir-ee! I ran out of the toilet with Payter falling over his cords halfway down! I ran up to my parent’s home across the road from the park and phoned my husband. But he was at his anger management. “Don’t fuckin’ interrupt me you stupid bitch, you know this drives me mental! (farts)” So I found solace in my old Jane Fonda videos in my bedroom. They helped reduce the love-handles after my babies: Rooster… Jarvis… and Leona... I switched Jane on, tried to work out but I nearly tore the neck off meself! “Come on girl, burn those calories!” After a good cry I switched off Jane, changed out of my denim dungarees and put on my favourite green floral dress with frilly cuffs… Strapped on the black heels and cycled into Ratchly, “Get out of the way ya fat bitch!” … to buy some comfort food off Sorcha at the Hungry Hippo. I chained the bike outside. In I went. Bottle of Bordeaux, Jaffa Cakes. Tub of Haagen-Dazs. £8.91, yeah I know exactly how much it costs Sorcha, thanks love, here’s a tenner, put the rest in the St. Saville’s Fundraiser box. Bye yaaa hun! But that reminded me. I hadn’t been in to see the old place since we graduated 7 years ago! Frumpy Dumpster is an Amplevoicepod feature-length Ear-film. A podcast with bite. The fateful story of Lindor Lamb, a middle-aged woman who has just about had enough of men. As a young woman, those were naive care-free days for Lindor, until that is when she encountered Payter Mayhem at Charry Marry Fun Park and school headmaster Sean Wrigley. Further anguish was caused by her husband, the 'Old Bruiser' himself. Frumpy Dumpster is a feature-length explicit and sometime farcical story from Amplevoicepod. We create original, scripted, character & plot-driven comedy dramas. We construct fully immersive HD audio adventures. More than just a podcast, we are the Voice of Pod.

(Forest atmosphere) (Jagger masturbating) Desecration: Jagger? Jagger: Yeah? Desecration: I was taken. Jagger: Eh? You want to be taken again? Heehee! I know you do. Awww. Desecration: I was taken. By the Mournsouls. But I escaped. Jagger: Well, just relax, you’re safe now, I’ll look after ya. Because, I-I, I love you. Desecration: Love? Jagger: Oh Desecration, just open your top there a bit more, uh, stand with your legs further apart. Desecration: What is love? Jagger: Oh baby don’t hurt me, mmmnng, don’t hurt me no more. Desecration: You are uncovering me. Jagger: That’s because I love you. Desecration: I am now naked. Jagger: Heeeezzzeeee! Yes! Aw, you’re beautiful, even your ‘tache. Come here- I want to fuck you so hard. Desecration: Unauthorised touching. Unauthorised touching. Jagger: No! What? Wait, (slap) shut up! Desecration: Please desist immediately. Jagger: Shhh! No, that’s bad, that’s bad. Stay quiet, and I’ll only put the tip in. Desecration: This is not what I was designed for. Jagger: Unngh, unngh, that’s it, that’s it… Just have to stand on this tree stump. Stay still. Desecration: Jagger. Not what I was designed for. This is wrong. Jagger: No Desecration, this is very, very right… uughn. Desecration: Jagger… Un-un-unauthorised penetration. Jagger: Aaaahhh, aw, ya fuckin’, aw, just a bit more in… Nnng. Desceration: Un-un-ununauthorised penetration. I see… I see… I see… Jagger: You’ll see stars in a second, I’ll desecrate your soul. I’m, I’m bevelled in on me tippy toes! Wheeeze!! Desecration: I see… No. No! The Mournsouls! (Ungodly screeching) Jagger: What the fuck? Mournsoul: Jagger you fool! Jagger: Agggh! Busher: What was that? Mox: Down at the forest. Darkness has already descended there. Tucker: Was that Jagga? Dickus: Eh, where’s the breeder Mox? Mox: Oh, oh, ah, you are kidding me right now! He snuck off with my breeder?! Arlee: Told yis he was like that. Desecration: No… Meemong: Run Jagger run! Jagger: Meemong! Do something, they’re after me! Mox: We have to get out of here. Now. (Moleculant appears) Busher Ah faceflies! Cover me moles! Tucker: It’s the car Busha, the car. Mox: Get in. Dickus: Hoo-hoo! This is fun! Arlee: But you can’t leave them behind! Mox: The breeder will survive. Busher: Peah! Move! Tucker: Wait, wait, wait! What about Jagga? Mox: He’s gone. Forget about him- no, wait, I see him runnin’ now, in the mirror. Tucker: Run Jagga! Jagger: Ahh lads! Arlee: Jump in! Jump in! Will ya slow down for him! That’s it, that’s it! Run! Juuump! Jagger: Aaaahh- (jumps) urnff! Busher: Ah fuck sake, it’s in me mouth. Get off mae! Tucker: Step on it! Busher: Why?? - Have you got no clothes on Jagger? Mox: We’re moving. It’s fine. We have an hour. Arlee: Well could you conjure up a big engine sound tearing away like, to make us feel better? Mox: Of course! Like that great transmission of yours, the Sweeney! (Car roars off) Amplevoicepod make lovely sound-designed ear-film comedy drama adventures where we submerge your ears in a sea of sound, putting you at the heart of the story along with our heroes. Bursting out feature-length stories with over 40 titles and 50+ characters, all created from collaborative ideas and sculpted over months to arrive at the final mix. United Mutations I, II & III and Panspermia I & II & III are 8.5-hours of a sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite ‘Battle of the Planets’ but just as awesome.

Mox: This is a Relivenator, it’ll bring these ‘stolen ones’ back to sentience. One blast, wake ‘em up! So, who first? Busher: Give mae fuckin’ the gun, I’ll do it! Yeah? Mox: Ah now careful my human friend, you are supposed to be my enemy! I mean you could just as easily use it on me and run out of here, which would be bad for your health. No, no,  which one of the stolen ones do you want to relivenate? Arlee: I don’t give a shite. Jagger: Eh I’d say Dickus, what you think? I don’t know what I think, what’s best? I mean- Tucker: Dickus then, doesn’t matter a fack. Arlee: Yeah. Mox: One Dickus, coooming up! (Relivenator powers up and zaps) Dickus: Ugh, ugh- Jagger: That’s mad. Busher: Peah… Hello old friend! First you die, now you’re alive! Dickus: (Alien voice) Tucker: Jesus, he might be alive, but that’s not his voice. Jagger: How’d he get back to Soupalon from under a ton of Neozine spilling over him in the factory? Arlee: He didn’t. It’s not him Jagger. Dickus is dead. Mox: Ah, yeah, sorry. Dickus? Planet X47, lingual code ‘81’ please. Dickus: (translating) Uh? Ah… um… O-kaay? Where the hell am I? Mox: Why, under my control of course. Dickus: Mox Faulder? The great Mox Faulder? Mox you magnificent bastard, I’ve read your book! Mox: Ah-ho, well thank you Dickus Soupus. Listen, I’d like to introduce you to some friends; Tucker: Eh- Busher: Something’s very wrong about this. Jagger: He’s the spit of himself tho’ Ned. Mox: They are from planet X47. Dickus: Ok, planet X47s! That’s amazing. Planet X47, I’d never thought I’d see it. Mox: Four of them Dickus, it’s our lucky day! We will now call them ‘humans’ or ‘people’ for clarity. Dickus: Hu-mans. Em, sorry, just a moment eh. Mox, why am I here? Holy god! That’s Spikus! Tonus! And Malthus! … Bop too? Mox: Yes. And don’t forget Holtus Pox. Dickus: Ah Holtus! My best friend. Holtus! Mox: Okay, stop hugging the bag Dickus. Dickus: Bring him back Mox! Mox: No. Tucker: No, no, no, I’m not seeing this. Mox: Eh, just to bring you up to speed Dickus, your plans to bring down the ruling council were infiltrated. You were all put in suspender for your crimes and kept here. Dickus: Ah, right, now I see. How, eh, long ago was that? Mox: 340 moon cycles. Dickus: What?! Tucker: How long’s that in Earf time? Mox: Eh roughly about 24, yes, roughly about 24 years. Busher: Shyeah! Fuck off! How convenient! Soupalons coming to Ratchly 19 years ago couldn’t have happened ‘coz this cunt was frozen in your shed for 24 years?! Dickus: What’s a ‘cunt’?  Busher: It’s what you are! Amplevoicepod make lovely sound-designed ear-film comedy drama adventures where we submerge your ears in a sea of sound, putting you at the heart of the story along with our heroes. Bursting out feature-length stories with over 40 titles and 50+ characters, all created from collaborative ideas and sculpted over months to arrive at the final mix. United Mutations I, II & III and Panspermia I & II & III are 8.5-hours of a sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite ‘Battle of the Planets’ but just as awesome.

Soupalon is not what the human resistance had expected. Welcomed by the holograph Orbit, informed of the 38% Oxygen, double Earth atmosphere, then greeted by 7-and-a-half foot tall Mox Faulder, the one-man Aliens Department, unfamiliar with the names of Baldy and The Meemong, and their claims the Savage Garden was destroyed. Answers are needed, a lot of them, including this one: Jagger: Eh, I’ve a question Mox, how did you learn our language? Mox: Aah, from those media transmissions of yours. I can show you. We’ve spent thousands of moon cycles invested in decoding and learning your languages well enough to be here with yis. Hope I’m doing ok! Jagger: I’m impressed Mox. Arlee: They prepared before they invaded us Jagger. Hardly did it on the off-chance that we’d show up here. Us the noggin’ will ya? Busher: Take us to your leader! Mox: I’m sorry, do you always gets enraged at the smallest thing. Are you insecure? Busher: Just do it roight?! Mox: Yeah yeah, all in good time. But you’ll need a good interpreter. If I wasn’t so overloaded with the abduction of our breeders, I swear I’d be your guy! I mean, you chaps are short, under-limbed, and maybe a little confused on account of the oxygen. Anyway, we’re here. Busher: No, no, no. NO! I’m alert. As sharp as a Man United shirt in 1993 and you- what’s THAT? Tucker: Fackin’, hah? Twisted. Mox: It’s the perimeter warning system, we’ve arrived at my compound. Jagger: It’s getting foggy. Is this normal?  Mox: Humans, humans, hu-mans! Come this way! (Entrance dematerialising) Tucker: That just disintegrated! Oh! Mox: Welcome to my MOXYPOD! That’s just the entrance, that’ll ‘reintegrate’ behind ya. Yeah, this is where I can spy on any off-worlders who would like to land and say hi. Jagger: There’re liquid screens?! Actual liquid! Wheeeze! Here, touch it Arlee, it’s sticky and warm. Arlee: I will not. Jagger: Like when I fingered Serena. Mox: Yunno, we’ve actually studied your history… You are technologically advanced enough to be a threat so we control our broadcasts to you. You are apex predators. We would expect anything and everything to be something you could figure out how use as a weapon against us. Tucker: Yeah, we did that, we knew how to defeat yis, that’s why we’re here to defeat you full time, end of story. Mox: Well, don't feel like you're going to have an easy time with us just because we might be nice. Our species are only restrained by their luxuries. One change, we kill you. Now with our breeders kidnapped and you arriving… Maybe you will end up infecting us with a disease that you’re immune to. And if you're lucky, we’ll be devastated and our civilization in utter chaos, making conquering quite easy. Good luck to just the four of yis. Busher: ‘Mox Faulder’. Are you related to Holtus P-P-P-Pox? Jagger: You alright Ned? Busher: Hah? Hah? Wah? Mox: No. His second title just rhymes with my first title. You’re not what I expected. I mean you are small and innocent looking. No blue boxes? Saucer-shaped cruisers? Giant Robots? Well-dressed men in sunglasses? Vigilantes in silver costumes who defy the laws of physics? I mean look at your transmissions. You guys are so familiar! I know I’ve seen you in one of these. Tucker: What’s that? Arlee: It looks like a huge Betamax. Mox: State of the art ‘100 long tape’. They hold 800 pluranuts of data! Arlee: That sounds dense. Mox: It stores holographic copies of your radio signals. We can extrapolate all 5 dimensions. Jagger: 5? Wheeze! Mox: Yeah, here it is. I knew you were familiar! Busher: Here, look at this! That’s us! Wait what? Fuck! Jagger: That’s me! Arlee: Doomwatch? Busher: That’s you in a skirt Tucker, you’re a woman! Tucker: Wot? That’s-how’s this even possible?   Mox: It’s you isn’t it? You are in many of the transmissions we get from Earth. Busher: This is not real. Cop on. Mox: If I can offer some advice. Don't move forward with your ‘invasion’ just yet. Get intel from the other alien empires in the galaxy, first. See how it all works. Tucker: ‘Other Alien Empires’? Busher: He maens the Meemong! He was lyin’, you’re a l-l-liar! You know the Meemong! Fuck fuck fuck fuck! Arlee: You alright Busher? Busher: Mamaaay! Cantona! Charts! Phwizzz! Mox: Hey, I don’t what or who these Meemong are, but if you say they sent you to wipe us out, then consider this, we think peace is better for business. Trade not invade! Much cheaper. Many planets practice slavery, they’d like your technology. Just remember to trade them your ‘televisions’ not your cloud bombs. Busher: Shite! Fuck! Peah! The Meemong DID send us, and we WILL wipe yis yis, yis, fuck! Out! Agh! Jagger: Calm down Ned. Tucker: What he means is, it’s payback mate! Mox: Ok, ok, I think your friend is hyperventilating. Busher: Users! Turncoats! Hang man! Meeeh, (slap) me head hurts. Peah, fuck! Peah, P-p-p-p-peah! Jagger: He’s been infected with Tourette’s syndrome. Arlee: Maybe his new fat body is rejectin’ his bald head. Busher: Mammay! Mox: Mm. You ARE committed. Maybe time to say hello to more of your future conquests and build goodwill and trust, that you can later betray yeah? Arlee: Ha. That makes sense actually. Mox: Steal specimens who either won't be missed or won't be reported missing. Hah? Arlee: Like whoever stole your breeders. Mox: Ah, but they ARE being missed, no, this is more of what I had in mind. Follow me.  Busher: It’s a trap, ungh! Tucker: Are you sure you’re ok Busha? Busher: Stop lookin’ at mae! Amplevoicepod make lovely sound-designed ear-film comedy drama adventures where we submerge your ears in a sea of sound, putting you at the heart of the story along with our heroes. Bursting out feature-length stories with over 40 titles and 50+ characters, all created from collaborative ideas and sculpted over months to arrive at the final mix. United Mutations I, II & III and Panspermia I & II & III are 8.5-hours of a sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite ‘Battle of the Planets’ but just as awesome.

It came to pass. The Son of Baldy was crucified by metal-hybrid Foghornious, usurping  the orders of Soupalon High Commander Dickus Soupus to fake the killing as a show of dominion over Earth. Dickus Soupus knew all about betrayal, he had sent five humans to the nearest Soupalon planet colony, The Savage Garden, under the guise of his own revolution, only for the humans to be trialled by Pedup Bauer, head gardener, to exploit human weakness and use it against them, via The Facefly, The Trail of Bees and Gay Chris’s Futcha-Futcha game show. But the humans prevailed and the garden destroyed, only after the most revolting human in history, Baldy, gave birth to an egg rectally.     The Son of Baldy was born and after crucifixion, born again! Guiding the remaining 4 tenacious, reckless, human resistors, Ratchly town residents: Tucker, Arlee, Jagger and Busher, to destroy Soupalon plans of pumping Neozine at the Ratchly Chemical Factory into the crop spray. Neozine would infect the food chain and infantilise human brains, breeding idiocy and bringing Soupalon closer to full invasion. Imogen Telch, the woman who helped our heroes, freed them from Whitehaven Asylum, was slain by Foghornious before it, factory foreman Bert Kavanagh, Soupalon High Commander Dickus Soupus and assistant Spikus, all drowned as Tucker thwarted Bert Kavanagh’s final attempt to unleash the Neozine into the supply pipes. The Soupalon interdimensional enemy, The Meemong, first found on the face of Busher, then through radio frequency to Arlee, and after through Imogen Telch, assisted our able men by abducting then decapitating Busher, fusing a giant baby head to his body so as to ‘fight like babies’ to defeat the Soupalon Neozine plan. Now, The Meemong have sent The Ratchly Resistance: Tucker, Arlee, Jagger and Busher, in intergalactic flying armchairs, to follow The Son of Baldy to the Soupalon home world. With just one aim. Kill all Soupalons.    (Armchairs in space FX), (Orbit materialisation) Orbit: I am Orbit. You have entered Soupalon, you are now in Orbit’s Welcome Zone. Many good welcomes! I will be your planetary guide and get you all set up for arrival. Arlee: Who’s this lad Jagger? Jagger: Could be our friends, the Meemong, Arlee, in-flight service, show us how to kill the Soupalon! Orbit: I am Orbit. What an interesting travel mode you have. Upholstered armchairs from an M Planet in the arm of Orion. I have intercepted your frequency to usher you in effortlessly as per protocol of our great civilisation of Soupalon. Tucker: So not the Meemong then. Busher: Shut up Tucker. Play it cool. Trust no one. PEAH! What do you want you holographic hoor?! Orbit: Good Welcomes human! I speak your English! Remember! Soupalon harbours 38% Oxygen, double your atmosphere. Please be aware of oxidative stress! Busher: Get out of me face! Orbit: You may feel a little nauseous, but then you will feel almost alert and active. Jagger: Do you serve tomato juice? Tucker: How do they speak our language Busher? That’s what I want to know. Busher: Maybe it was Baldy! Tucker: SON of Baldy… Busher: Phwizzz! Family of arseholes! Doesn’t matter, we’re here to defeat these Soupal- Tucker: Pipe down Busha! What you say about playin’ it cool? Jagger: You’re right Busher, what did the Son of Baldy say? Eh, ‘The Kingdom of Baldy is near’ he said. Arlee: Go ‘Tom’ Baldy! Jagger: Ah, it’ll be good t’see Tom again. Busher: As much as I despise the cunt… no, no, he’d still let ya down, no matter what! Orbit: Engaging Soupalon atmosphere. Humans, be prepared to burn twice as much for half as long. Enjoy your stay! (Opening Credit) (Armchairs land) (Vomit) Arlee: Awww, puked. Orbit: Soupalon entry sickness. It will pass quickly as you acclimatise. (Soupalon atmosphere) Jagger: Where’s this now? Look at the size of those trees! Tucker: Jurassic. (Massive bird wafts by) Arlee: Holy fong! Did you see the size of that bird? Busher: Roight, let’s cover these chairs and get on with it! Jagger: Uh, I feel like I’ve smoked fifteen joints. Orbit: There is no point my friendly visitors. We know you are here. We have an aliens department led by the great Mox Faulder. (Mox: ‘Hey Mox Faulder, How ya doin’?’) He will have been notified. Between you, me and our trees, it’s a secret agency to deal with this sort of thing. Tucker: Yeah, we have the same back home. Busher: No we don’t, that’s not real. Tucker: Yes it is. Arlee: Well, it should be if it isn’t. Jagger: Orbit, so you’re not the Meemong? Arlee: Jagger!? Orbit: The, who? I am not familiar with that name. Ah but Mox Faulder would know. (Mox: ‘Hey Mox Faulder, How ya doin’?’) He’s made contact with many advanced alien species. Have you fought with any intergalactic species before? Busher: We fought you, the Soupalon! Arlee: Ssssh. I thought you wanted us to come in quiet? Orbit: I’m not programmed to understand this remark, for we have never fought with humans in our illustrious history! Tucker: Yes ya have! Jagger: Took me up onto your Clinkership and you raped me! Busher: You never said anything about rape Jagger, Jagger: Pumped me full of their chemicals too. (flashback) I nearly lost the head. Busher: I actually lost mine! Replaced me beautiful body with this overgrown baby bulk! Tucker: That was the Meemong, and that was for your own good, to save humanity. Orbit: Meemong... No. Systems report no history of this name. Arlee: You’re lyin’. Orbit: You need to seek out the Mox Faulder. You have reached the limit of Orbit’s welcoming zone. Goodbye! (Disappears) Arlee: Poof gone! Jagger: Sneaky fuckers. Tucker: What do we do now lads? Busher: We have to summon the Meemong back. They are our only hope. Arlee: And find Baldy while we’re at it. Busher: Yeah, yeah, but look at me face, are me moles moving? Are the Meemong tryin’ to communicate? Show us a sign! You brought us here to destroy our common enemy! Mox: Hey! Busher: Ahhh! Stand back! Mox: How ya doin’? Jagger: You’re not Baldy, you’re huge! Mox: On behalf of the planet I welcome you, all uh four of you, to Soupalon! Tucker: The size of ya! Who are you? Jagger: He’s a fuckin’ avatar! Mox: Nah, just Mox Faulder, in the flesh, welcoming party! Arlee: At least 7 and a half foot tall! Jagger: Nice brown corduroy threads man. He looks like Bill Ward. Arlee: Ah, and speaks English of course. Mox: Of course. There are lots of different spacefaring races in our spiral arm, we are very diplomatic. I mean you chaps are just one non-notable race among thousands. But a warm welcome anyway! Amplevoicepod make lovely sound-designed ear-film comedy drama adventures where we submerge your ears in a sea of sound, putting you at the heart of the story along with our heroes. Bursting out feature-length stories with over 40 titles and 50+ characters, all created from collaborative ideas and sculpted over months to arrive at the final mix. United Mutations I, II & III and Panspermia I & II & III are 8.5-hours of a sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite ‘Battle of the Planets’ but just as awesome.

Arlee: (Muffled) uh, uh, is he alive? Imogen: I hit him too hard! I’m so sorry Ned! Tucker: Busher? (Slap, slap, slap). What’s left of him. Wake up mate! Fack look! His moles are back on his face. Quick, put him in the armchair. Jagger: Wheeezee! He looks like a sumo wrestler. Mr Marshmallow! Yes! Arlee: Can’t even see his mickey. Busher: Stop hittin’ mae! Let me sit up. Arlee: What have the Meemong done to you? You’ve got moles!             Tucker: How the fack do you have an overgrown baby body? Busher: It’s still me! Arlee: And that yeah, obviously… Busher: They transplanted mae onto this body to permanently feed mae brain with baby blood. To return to me face and infuse mae with phenomenal consciousness! Imogen: This is what the Meemong wanted! In Whitehaven when you were all dribbling and full of Diazepam… You can really fight like babies! He is a baby! We need to go now! They will start using the poison... Busher: Peah! That’s what they sa- Hey, what’s with all the smoke? Tucker: Where did they suck you off into? You a-ascended into the clouds! Arlee: Just before the metal Lilo shot shit out of Dessie, Tash and all the other dead lads. Jagger: Only one way to defeat the Soupalon… Fight them how they expect. So we’re gonna have to- (Lights Rothman’s, inhales, exhales) Jagger: Fight like a baby. Busher: YEAH! A brain unable to shut things out. Feeling pure emotion! Less analytical. Influenced by imagination. You must ‘empty everything’ they said. This is how to win!   Imogen: The Countdown IS Underway, there IS a New Tomorrow! We have to move… Busher: Roight! Peah Come on! Chest puffed out! We can win lads! I care now! I care a lot!               Jagger: But how DO we fight like a babby? Do we need nappies?! Ha! Huh, wheeeh, huuuuagh! Busher: Shuttup Jagger! Spit those cigarettes out and open your mind. I can train yis. You must forget everything. They think we are weak and defenceless. This is when we fight! Arlee: Kill the Soupalon! Busher: Lissen! Listen to mae! A day after the Sabbath... That’s what they said. Tucker: Aiy? That what your face is telling ya? Imogen: Em, eh I’m sorry. I’m not quite sure actually what you’re talking about at the moment. What is a Sabbath? Jagger: (incredulous) What’s a Sabbath? (Cassette, click, play) Jagger: This is a Sabbath! Busher: You always do this Jagger! Turn that shite off! Arlee: Hang on, today’s Sunday isn’t it? Tucker: What’s left of it… Jagger: Jaysus! It’s just before sunrise on the day after the Sabbath! This was meant to be. We ARE the righteous... It’s what Baldy would have wanted! Busher: Peah! Fuck Baldy. It’s what the Meemong want!  Arlee: Holy fong. Your moles are makin’ an arrow! We need to get out of these chairs now! Busher: Phwizzz! Me face is back! This is for you Ginger! Tucker: Got any clothes for him Jagger? Jagger: I have a pair of purple flares and a Nirvana t-shirt. ’92, great gig… Busher: Fuck sake. Tucker: If we’re going after the Soupalon, Meemong or not, we need to play this right. We go to the chemical factory to shut it down… Imogen: They just absolutely can’t use that Neozine. Arlee: We need more supplies. We should go back to Dessie’s bunker. Busher: Dessie’s bunker? Arlee: Where we buried Baldy. Jagger: Here try these on. Tucker: Ok, ok, Busher; me and Imogen will go with you to the chemical plant. Jagger, you and Arlee check out Ratchly square, stock up at the bunker. We rendezvous in the fork-yard out back of the factory. Jagger: I’m on for that. I’ll do that. We’ll do that, right Arlee? Arlee: I hope we’re not too late.  Busher: The state of me. I look more stupid in your clothes than I did when I was fat and naked. Tucker: No. It looks like you’re ready to kill some fackin’ Soupalon. (Jagger turns up Black Sabbath)Arlee: Ah fuckin’ spare us! (Arlee smashes Jagger’s cassette player) Amplevoicepod make ear-film comedy drama adventures where we submerge your ears in a sea of sound, putting you at the heart of the story along with our heroes. Bursting out feature-length stories with over 40 titles and 50+ characters, all created from collaborative ideas and sculpted over months to arrive at the final mix. Panspermia I & II & III are a 4.5-hour sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite Jamie and his Magic Torch but just as awesome.

Dickus: What are yis doin’? What the fuck are yis doin’?! Foghornious: Aroooo! Dickus: Betrayer. BETRAYER! Spikus: Uh-ohh… Dickus: Foghornious? Here! I command you to answer me! (Thunder, lightning, wind) Jagger: Bit of a wind getting up. Clone Baldus: My brother’s day has caused the sky to blacken. Dickus: You... Killed… The Starchild! Busher: Peah, gobshites! Always killing Baldy. Everytime! What about mae? Someone kill mae! Arlee: Shut up! Imogen: Look! The church... (Rumble, crack, crumble, clang) Tucker: That thing’s coming down! Oooh! (Collapsing rubble) Spikus: I’m scared Dickus, I never saw things like this here before. Dickus: Come here to me! You disobeyed a direct order! You’re being disassembled! Foghornious: Course of action. Denied! (Locks on target) Dickus: Don’t you point that thing at me! (Gravestones shoot into the air) Jagger: Bidda fuck! Tombstones! Shootin’ into the sky! Busher: Shyeah right... Arlee: Holy fong! I’m glad I’m in this cage now. Tucker: Hold onnnn…           (Earthquake, cage rattle, rock split, tombs break open) Dickus: Put the weapon down ya metal motherfucker. Get off me leg Spikus! Slaggers! I need the Clinkership. Slaggers: Overlord. Atmosphere thickened below. But will attempt to enter. (Crash, crumble, collapse,) Spikus: Dickuuuuus! Imogen: What are… Dickus: What’s that? Tucker: Who are they? Jagger: Here, that’s big Miley at the front of them! He’s been dead ten years. Busher: PEAH! Zombies! Ratchly’s dead have risen! Arlee: They’re coming this way. Imogen: This is the Countdown. It is Underway.. No Tomorrow! No tomo- (Zombies start running) Tucker: We need to get out of this cage! Arlee: Better in than out I’d say. Miley: Vooooooom!(Force field emanates) Jagger: Eh? Miley? Miley: K.Leee.F! Voooom! Hurururh! Jagger: It’s eh, it’s good to see you lad. You’re looking rough. Imogen: Eurhgh, the stink. Miley: Voooom! We are the Meemong! And you must come with us. You must empty everything. Arlee: The Meemong? Dickus: Wha? Meemong? Imogen: They? Are the Meemong? Tucker: He’s lookin’ at you Busher… Busher: Yeah, yeah, take me. Whatever… Miley: Voooom! So you may rise up Busher! (Wind rushes, cage rattles, flash of energy) Busher: Ahoha! AHHH! I’m taking off! Ah, AH- (Launches into space) Me runner-boots! Tucker: Busha? Like a missile!           (Runner-boots land back on the ground) Dickus: Busher? Tucker: Busha? Arlee: Busher? Jagger: How’d he get through the steel? Arlee: Gone! Imogen: Why did they take him? Why? Tucker: Ah shut up Imogen! Jagger: Busher… Heeeee’s gonna walk right into heav-en! Narrator: Busher ascends to the sky, only his white runner-boots left. Ratchly’s dead have risen as Foghornious betrays Dickus Soupus, using long nails. The Son of Baldy is crucified. Died to save arseholes. An enthralling new ear-film audio adventure from the saintly sound designers at Amplevoicepod. PANSPERMIA II has our heroes Arlee, Jagger, Tucker and Busher escaping the Soupalon & their Savage Garden orb and have re-entered Earth, currently hiding out in Dessie Morgan’s pub on Ratchly town square. Deep breaths... The 'Son of Baldy' had been sent to guide our heroes but instead he has turned himself in to the Soupalon as an act of 'pure love' to save humanity. The Soupalon are confused by this behaviour. They had already engineered his body double, the one they called 'Baldus', to infiltrate the humans, by washing their feet inside the pub. So now, in the square outside the pub, Dickus Soupus, Soupalon High Commander, needs to make an example of the 'Son of Baldy' to show the humans that resistance is just not on. The sun is about to rise on the real Son of Baldy’s ultimate sacrifice. The only hope for our primitive band of humans is Imogen Telch, who wants to 'seed the world' with the power of the Meemong, calling upon these celestial beings to save Earth and destroy Soupalon. An intrinsically epic 96 minute sci-fi monster showcasing the creative brain of Amplevoicepod. It's new, it's fresh, it's original. Take a chance, lie back and enjoy it. Amplevoicepod make ear-film comedy drama adventures where we submerge your ears in a sea of sound, putting you at the heart of the story along with our heroes. Bursting out feature-length stories with over 40 titles and 50+ characters, all created from collaborative ideas and sculpted over months to arrive at the final mix. Panspermia I & II & III are a 4.5-hour sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite the Adventures of Mr Benn but just as awesome.

In Dessie Morgan’s pub, (Clone) Baldus infiltrates the humans by washing their feet. In the square outside, the sun rises on the Son of Baldy’s ultimate sacrifice. Dickus: Right. Here looks good. Right in the middle of the main square yeah? Maximum viewage! Spikus: It’s very exposed Dickus. Dickus: Like your ignorance Spikus! Foghornious: Here is a fine place to die. (Metal cage drops to ground) Bert: Hagh? Don’t look at me when you’re saying that. Dickus: We need to send out a signal to these humanses that they don’t just climb aboard our crafts, fly to our Savage Garden and make the Boghead angry! Bert: Anyway, I should be getting back to the factory. We’re near ready to run the first batch injection of Neozine. You know yourself… Baldy: Calm yourself my child.  Bert: Hah? Hagh… Foghornious: Human, you may return to usefulness and productivity at the injection centre. Bert: Yep! That’s right! But, eh, shouldn’t you just, hagh, square it with the boss first before I- Foghornious: Leave. Now. Bert: Yep, yep! Yes! I’m already not here. Thanks. Thanks. Thanks again. And may God… fuckin’ help yis. Baldy: My father awaits me. My journey to him is fearless. Go in peace Bert Kavanagh, for you are man. Bert: Better you than me in that cage. You can handle it. I’d have shit meself. All the best! Dickus: But how are you supposed to put it together? Spikus: It’s got two parts Dickus, this part higher up, I think. Dickus: We may raise it up on a mound or somethin’, so they all can get a good eyeful. Hey! Hey metaller! Where’s Bert Kavanagh headin’? Foghornious: I summoned him to return to work Overlord. Dickus: Eh… yeah… ok. Good thinkin’! Initiative. Like it. Right! We need- Spikus?! Spikus: Big beams of Earth Wood. Dickus: Should we put him in the cage on top of these beams of Earth Wood? Spikus: I don’t think so Dickus. Foghornious: Overlord. The human beast shall be suspended upon this organic intersection, his extremities punctured by wrought iron fasteners called ‘nails’, into the structure beneath. Dickus: Oooh, sounds good! Then what? We phaser the fuck out of him back into the gooey mess he was born from?  Foghornious: The human shall hang by nail upon this beam until life extinguishes. Dickus: Hardcore, I love that! (Cage rattles) Dickus: D’ya hear that Baldy ‘Starchild’? You going to your heaven, is going to be one hell of a show! Baldy: I forgive yis. Dickus: Yeah whatever. Foghornious: Entering Earth atmosphere. Understood. Proceed... Sean The Degus: (Piloting Clinkership) Yes Overlord… (Inside Dessie’s Pub) Imogen: AAAAAAAH! Arlee: Can someone shut her up! Jagger! Punch her in the face or something. Tucker: She’s goin’ to attract some attention. Clone Baldus: She is attempting communication, beyond this dimension… Jagger: Maybe it’s the Meemong. Arlee: Maybe Jagger. No working radios, she may improvise! Tucker: Has she made contact? Busher: Has me face moved? Jagger: Can’t see your moles for the big purple bruises Ned. Busher: I’m destroyed! Imogen: It is no use! They are too difficult to intercept. They cannot communicate by radio wave as we have no receiver. They cannot communicate through Busher’s face for, it is also broken. Busher: Stop sayin’ it! Imogen: But… There is one final way… Arlee: Tell us! Imogen: You must become naked and form a circle around Busher. Tucker: Naked? Jagger: Heeee, Yeh. Clone Baldus: We must proceed. This is the only way to contact them, to defeat the Soupalon. Busher: Form a circle around mae? What do I have to do? Imogen: Nothing, for you must be the receiver. Busher: Of what? Imogen: The Meemong formed successful symbiosis with us. Our moles, marks, erupting, reproducing, barely moving- Tucker: Naked yeah! We may not have Busher’s moley face but we have moles elsewhere! Imogen: The Meemong are inside all of us and can be released through your… (pause). Arlee: Our what? Tucker: Through our body moles of course! Imogen: No; through your- collective ejaculation. Arlee: Excuse me? Tucker: Hey? Busher: Fuck off peah! Imogen: It is the only way. To initiate the Meemong you must all ejaculate your semen onto Busher’s face. It will bring the moles back to life! Busher: Phwiizzz! Haha! No way! Mamaaaay! Ginger! Ginger: Moeeeowwww. (Clinkership begins to enter atmosphere) Jagger: What’s that noise lads? Clone Baldus: It is the Soupalon. Their ships. They are launching their Earth invasion. Tucker: They’ll find us soon enough. Lads, we have to do it. Imogen: The Meemong are our only hope. Busher: Peah NO!! Arlee: Grab him! Tie him to the chair! Tucker: Now! Busher: Ahhh! Get off me! Mammaay! Patrick! Cantona! Jagger: Use our belts… Here- Tucker: Yes! (Clinkership descends closer) Imogen: Hurry! Busher: Rapers! Rapers! Leave mae alone! Ahaahaha! Tickles! Ginger: Meeoow? Jagger: Imogen. Can, can I look at your face? I don’t think I could get the rise looking at Busher’s swollen gob. Imogen: Look at me. If you have to… Arlee: Fierce pressure. Tucker: To save the world! Nnnnggg! (Masturbation) Clone Baldus: Heheheh. Ah Baldy… Imogen: Harder! Faster! Jagger: Dirty bitch… come on, yeah! Wheeeeeezeeee! Busher: Don’t look Ginger, close your eyes. Arlee: Aim for the face, Tucker: Bastard… Arlee: Aim for the face- Imogen: Seed the world! Let them know it’s survival time! Come on! Jagger: Oh yeah, nearly there! Tucker: Sick… Arlee: His face Jagger! Busher: Please… peah… no…. Imogen: Yes! Oh my god yes! You fucking animals! Asshole fucking men! It’s a, it’s a… Panspermia! Tucker: Wh-what did you just- Imogen: Fuck you! Jagger: Huuuaaaarggh! Siiiiick! Tucker: Wait-Urrrnghf! Busher: Aaaah! Ahhhh! Ahhhh! Mnnggg! Arlee: Fuck! Busher! Comin’! Uuuughgh. Busher: Splaaa-aah! Imogen: Yes! Yes! Tucker: What did you just say? A ‘Pan Spermia’? Arlee: Anything happenin’ yet, with his face? Looks fucking sick though… Busher: F-f-f-f-sniff, waaaa… Bastards… (The Soupalon ‘Clinkership’ lands in Ratchly main square) An enthralling new ear-film audio adventure from the saintly sound designers at Amplevoicepod. PANSPERMIA II has our heroes Arlee, Jagger, Tucker and Busher escaping the Soupalon & their Savage Garden orb and have re-entered Earth, currently hiding out in Dessie Morgan’s pub on Ratchly town square. Deep breaths... The 'Son of Baldy' had been sent to guide our heroes but instead he has turned himself in to the Soupalon as an act of 'pure love' to save humanity. The Soupalon are confused by this behaviour. They had already engineered his body double, the one they called 'Baldus', to infiltrate the humans, by washing their feet inside the pub. So now, in the square outside the pub, Dickus Soupus, Soupalon High Commander, needs to make an example of the 'Son of Baldy' to show the humans that resistance is just not on. The sun is about to rise on the real Son of Baldy’s ultimate sacrifice. The only hope for our primitive band of humans is Imogen Telch, who wants to 'seed the world' with the power of the Meemong, calling upon these celestial beings to save Earth and destroy Soupalon. An intrinsically epic 96 minute sci-fi monster showcasing the creative brain of Amplevoicepod. It's new, it's fresh, it's original. Take a chance, lie back and enjoy it. Amplevoicepod make ear-film comedy drama adventures where we submerge your ears in a sea of sound, putting you at the heart of the story along with our heroes. Bursting out feature-length stories with over 40 titles and 50+ characters, all created from collaborative ideas and sculpted over months to arrive at the final mix. Panspermia I & II & III are a 4.5-hour sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite the Adventures of Mr Benn but just as awesome.

Clone Baldus: We have arrived. This is the Ratchly chemical factory. I will leave you now brother… Baldy: I am he. Clone Baldus: And I disappear… (Walking, approaching the factory) Foghornious: Human. Bert: Hagh? Is he talking to me? Who’s- Talking to me? Are you talkin’ to me? Hagh, who ya talkin’ to? Dickus: Calm down Bert, he’s only trying to make friends with ya. Foghornious: You are self-defeating; you act against each other’s interests, you compete viciously for limited resources. Bert: And that’s good do you think? I don’t know what to think. Do you know? Spikus: Uh-oooh… Dickus: What now Spikus, can’t you see we’re ahead for once? The resistance are no more. They’re on the run, half of them out of action and looks like they’ve lost their mutations. Spikus: Why? Dickus: Speaking of mutants, when will the Vat of Mutagen be up and running Bert? Farmers be wanting to spray the crops! Bert: The Neozine is mixed in now. Once pipes are open we can begin the first batch injection this time tomorra. Dickus: Excellento! Spikus: But look Dickus! Dickus: Wha? Lissen, it was nice knowing them like but a job’s a job Spikus! All we need now is to kill Busher, find the starchild I punched out of Baldy’s stomach and we’re set for home! Spikus: L-l-l-look! Dickus! Dickus: Home Spikus! What’s wrong witch-… oh- Baldy: I know all that is going to happen to me, so I ask of you; who is it you want? Dickus: Jesus Christ! Would you look who it is! Baldy: I am he. Who is it you want? Dickus: The wandering fool returns. Are you all right? What’s happened to your voice? Still a bit scrambled by the Slaggers? So, what have you got to report? Baldy: I told you that I am he. If you are looking for me, then let all you seek go. I have not lost one of those you gave me. Dickus: Is he making any sense? Bert: Do yis want anything from the canteen, it’s lunchtime now! Baldy: I have spoken openly to the world. I taught in the coffin shed, in a field. Not far from here, where all the human resistance come together. Dickus: Bidda lord, listen to that Spikus! You were right Baldus. You DID infiltrate the fuckers. How’d ya do it? Baldy: I said nothing in secret. Ask those who heard me. Surely they know what I said- (Slap in the face) Foghornious: Is this the way you answer the high commander? Baldy: If I said something wrong, testify as to what is wrong. But if I spoke the truth, why did yis strike me? Dickus: I am little confused here now Baldus. You said you’d infiltrate the human resistance. What do they know? Can ‘Jagger’ still slow down time? Baldy: But I am not my brother’s keeper. I am the Starchild, Son of Baldy, who art my father in the heavens. (Phasers drawn) Dickus: What the fuck did you just say? Foghornious: Aroooooo! Opening Credits… An enthralling new ear-film audio adventure from the saintly sound designers at Amplevoicepod. PANSPERMIA II has our heroes Arlee, Jagger, Tucker and Busher escaping the Soupalon & their Savage Garden orb and have re-entered Earth, currently hiding out in Dessie Morgan’s pub on Ratchly town square. Deep breaths... The 'Son of Baldy' had been sent to guide our heroes but instead he has turned himself in to the Soupalon as an act of 'pure love' to save humanity. The Soupalon are confused by this behaviour. They had already engineered his body double, the one they called 'Baldus', to infiltrate the humans, by washing their feet inside the pub. So now, in the square outside the pub, Dickus Soupus, Soupalon High Commander, needs to make an example of the 'Son of Baldy' to show the humans that resistance is just not on. The sun is about to rise on the real Son of Baldy’s ultimate sacrifice. The only hope for our primitive band of humans is Imogen Telch, who wants to 'seed the world' with the power of the Meemong, calling upon these celestial beings to save Earth and destroy Soupalon. An intrinsically epic 4-part (total 96 minute) sci-fi monster showcasing the creative brain of Amplevoicepod. It's new, it's fresh, it's original. Take a chance, lie back and enjoy it. Amplevoicepod make ear-film comedy drama adventures where we submerge your ears in a sea of sound, putting you at the heart of the story along with our heroes. Bursting out feature-length stories with over 40 titles and 50+ characters, all created from collaborative ideas and sculpted over months to arrive at the final mix. Panspermia I & II & III are a 4.5-hour sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite 'Bod' but just as awesome.

Jagger, bound and gagged, is signed over by his father to Whitehaven Psychiatric. Out at the chemical factory, Arlee and Imogen seek answers. Arlee: Quiet now Imogen. This is the Ratchly Chemical Factory. And no offence, but if you only knew what went on here in the past, it’d piss all over your C.U.N.T. Imogen: What’s wrong with Countdown Underway New Tomorrow? The Meemong are part of us and I gave them to you. Arlee: You go into a trance though. You’re like an empty vessel. They fill your sparse mind! My mind has always been closed. I’m as ignorant as they come! But somehow things no-one should ever hear, I have heard, and things no-one should ever see- Imogen: have seen, yes, uh-huh, sorry but listen, Mr- Arlee: Arlee… Imogen: Mr Arlee, I have just seen a man’s moles move on his face and a man turn spit into plants. Maybe I am catching up? Arlee: It’ll be a while yet... Now you stay put. It could be dangerous. Everything looks different to the last time I was here. But one thing hasn’t changed… Dirty infestation! Imogen: Oh well, careful then Arlee. It could possibly kill you. Arlee: Great, thanks. You’re an asset to the team. Imogen: I’ll hide inside this pipe duct. Arlee: Good idea. Stay out of the way… Right, this is Arlee Davidson, Ratchly Radio’s best presenter… Ugh, I’m doing this for you… Lorna… and the future of humanity. Imogen: Who are you speaking to? Arlee: Fuck off… (Walks down steel walkway) Arlee: That looks like the foreman’s office. Careful now Arlee, stay far back out of harm’s way… like Charlie Bird reportin’ in a war… (Steam burst) Arlee: Ahh me eyes! Fuckin’ steam pipe. Who put that there! Ahh- (Foghornius foot slams down) Foghornius: Need a tissue? (Tissues plucked from a box) Arlee: Thanks yeah, do you know where I can fi-AARGHGHGH!! Foghornius: Arooooo! Arlee: Lilo! Lilo McGregor?! But, but you’re dead! Seventeen years ago I s-saw you die! Foghornius: Sensing digestive and cognitive overload. Arlee: Awww, me head, this isn’t… aw, voices, Lilo… you’re de- (Collapses) (Duct perspective) Imogen: (breathing) Foghornius: Cognitive functions… ceased. Narrator: Arlee breaks down at sight of his long-gone friend Lilo, in front of the hidden and frightened Imogen. (Dickus, Spikus and Bert run over) Dickus: What’s the commotion, my metal lord? Spikus: Oooh, it’s- it’s… Bert: Hagh, who’s this lad? Dickus: Would ya look who it is! Is he alive? Foghornius: Limited vital signs. Spikus: Wha-oohm, what do we do with him Dickus? Dickus: Well he’s as useless as you Spike! Dump him in the ditch. We don’t need this one. His mutation posed no danger. Where are the other revolters? Hang on, stop the lights! Didn’t our last Overlord Malthus Brindle get transmissions from ‘Jagger’? Something about him falling in the ‘Vat of Mutagen’ back in ’99? Got covered in our bio-chip formula… Spikus: Bio chips! Dickus: Opened up a channel didn’t he? Foghornious! Foghornius: The human’s signal is scrambled. It is this planet’s magnetic loop. Dickus: No, too much drugs probably. Stoned as usual, no wonder he could slow down time. Actually, maybe we did that, yunno, that time we kidnapped him and put him into the Perverter up on the Clinkership? Foghornius: It is this planet’s magnetic loop; too much interference when relaying in and out of the atmosphere to the Savage Garden. Dickus: Here, you’re showing off now! No-one likes a big-head. Spikus: Exactly! Dickus: Are you talking about me? Spikus: Ah, I said nothing as usual Dickus. Dickus: Right, we need to kidnap the ‘Tucker’. He’s got a super big brain, probably even more than Tonus. He grew an even bigger one on the Savage Garden… Just add it to the list- Bert: Hagh, ha-ha-aggh… Dickus: What’s wrong with you? Having a Heptikleptic fit? Bert: Hagh, ha-ha-aggh, hmm, did you say ‘Tucker’? Sure he turned up for work this mornin’! Said he had a contract with the plant. Former fuckin’ foreman Gerry Frehley signed it. Dickus: Hear that Spikus?! It just keeps getting better and better! Bert: He’s on the forks now out in the yard! Dickus: Don’t even have to hunt them down! (Yard atmosphere, forklift stops, jumps down) Tucker: Right (opens container), this looks a likely candidate. ‘Neozine… 1-Chloro-3-ethylamino-5-isopropylamino-2,4,6-triazineI’, ‘Atrazine…’ Is this that fackin’ poison? Gotta try and get a sample of each. Dickus: Before what? Tucker: Before I get see- aw faack! Foghornius: Do not move human. Tucker: Argh! Foghorn! You fell off Jagger’s denims into the mutagen! I saw you- Dickus: Die! Yes, yes, the other one said that too. Tucker: Who the fack Dickus, have- Foghornious: Organic waste will cease communication. Tucker: Alroight mate, get out of my face. Bert: Hagh, now, Tucker, I’m sorry but, going to have to dock something from your wages for this. Tucker: For wot? You can’t do that! Dickus: Oh we can, and we can do a lot better than that. Sorry lad. Spikus: Uh-oh, sorry Tucker… Tucker: Wot’s with all the apologies? You can let me go if you’re all that remorseful. Dickus: Yeah sorry Tucker, we have to kidnap you. Tucker: Wot and put me in the ‘Perverter’ and torture me too? Bad move. You all know what happened to Jagger. Dickus: Eh, no. Our human approach has thankfully progressed. Foghornious! Foghornious: Yes commander? Dickus: Seize his brain. (Foghornius foot slams down) Tucker: Oi! Get your metal mitts off me skull! (Whirring, sizzling, zapping, pumping) Bert: Urgh! HOH? What are yis doin’? Tucker: Mrrrnnngggh… Gurgle… urnf. Foghornius: Human brain activity uploaded. (Tucker collapses) Dickus: Exactly that. We’ve abducted Tucker’s overly large brain feed. Modern technology! All done in an instant. No waitin’, no mess. Anyway, enough bragging. That’s all we need of Mr Tucker. Dump him with the other lad. What’s left of them is no threat to us now. High five me Foghorn. Eh, no? Ok, fair enough… Bert: You’re going to leave them here? Sure then I may get on to the hospital. Foghornius: Neutralation advised. Orders given. Dickus: Calm down Foggy, I know the orders. Boghead said ‘wipe them out’. Tonus said ‘remove them’. Two of them here, wiped out and removed. I don’t have to neutralate them! Sure didn’t I expect to be neutralated and I was spared by the Boghead. That’s compassion! And I’m full of it! Spikus: I’m proud of you Dickus. Dickus: But that Busher one. He fuckin’ dies, with his moving moley face! Come on, we’ve work to be doin’. I need to take a look inside Tucker’s massive mind. Bert: Eh, you could have just asked him? Dickus: Ah the innocence. And you think he’d tell me the truth? Someone told me you humans have the most startling capability of self-delusion. Youse are not a rational species. You fuckers lie... Bert: Hagh? Dickus: Don’t look so shocked Bert, this is nartin’. I’ll take you on a tour of the Clinkership, wouldn’t that be nice? You can sit on Foghorious’s knees. Cheer you up no end! Foghornious: Overlord. Tucker brain analysis shows no heightened state, no above-average intelligence. He was a standard human. Dickus: What? But he had a big brain. I saw him use it! He was a mutant! How’d they pass the Savage Garden? Foghornious: Blank areas suggest highly evolved cerebral information but no trace now. Dickus: Ah bollocks! What’s goin’ on here? Right… Keep up the hunt, you Bert, come with me… (Walking into distance) (Imogen climbs out of the duct) Imogen: Oh Meemong! What have you done? You sent them to their dooms.. Oh my, they’re still breathing… Breathing. Good. Oh help me Meemong what do I do? Show me a sign! Tucker:  Gurgle gurgle… bokkle! Arlee: Urrrrr…shmgmggj…. Imogen: What do I do, what do I do? Narrator: Barely alive, used-up Tucker and broke-down Arlee need rescue by Imogen Telch. Meanwhile, fast approaching Ratchly main square is an angry Ginger and a starving Busher. Amplevoicepod make ear-film comedy drama adventures where we submerge your ears in a sea of sound, putting you at the heart of the story along with our heroes. Bursting out feature-length stories with over 40 titles and 50+ characters, all created from collaborative ideas and sculpted over months to arrive at the final mix. Panspermia I & II & III are a 4.5-hour sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite Jamie and his Magic Torch but just as awesome.

The Radio is on but no-one is home in the 'Coffin Shed' as Dickus leads Foghornious and the assembled ‘Baldus’ to meet Bert Kavanagh at the Ratchly Chemical Factory. We move now to the far side of town. Busher and Tucker hunt down a woman. Tucker:  I didn’t think it was small. I just thought- uh, I don’t know what I thought. Busher:  I’m not a woman right?! I only have one ball. Makes no difference. Still normal… Tucker:  I know. But did you hear what the Doc said? Ovaries and eggs! Busher:  I don’t know what to think. Tucker:  You thought of hitting him pretty quick. Busher:  Phwwwizzz! Got him on the jaw! Mammaaae! (Click of a gun) Imogen: Don’t move. Tucker:  Ok, easy… Busher:  Peah! Imogen: Who are you? What do you want here? Tucker:  Eh well- Busher:  Listen right! We don’t have time! Doctor Don Dudern told us about a woman. Imogen Telch. We have to find her. It’s life or death!  Imogen: You know the truth? Busher:  Don’t shoot mae! Tucker:  I’m guessing you, are, Imogen Telch? Imogen: Yes I am and I am CUNT. Tucker:  You are a bit hostile but we’ll take it as an apology. Busher:  We need your help! Imogen: Well, I speak for C.U.N.T. Busher:  Hah? Imogen: Who are you? Tell me! (Clicking gun) Busher:  Aah! Imogen: What the hell is happening to your face? Tucker:  Is it the moles? Busher:  Me moles move! Imogen: Oh my! It has begun. Tucker:  Wot has? (De-cocks gun) Imogen: You had better come in. I interpret for the Meemong. Busher:  Meemong? Tucker: Hey? Wait- Busher: What’s that shite when it’s at home? (Door opens, footsteps) Tucker: I don’t know… Imogen: Sit down. They fight with an age old enemy from the stars… This enemy- Busher:  Soupalon! Tucker:  From the Scutum galaxy… Imogen: So, it is them. The Meemong want to stop them. They’ve formed a successful symbiosis with us. They are the moles, the marks, the spots upon your skin. Barely moving, but harvested us, drove our intelligence, pushed us on into new frontiers. They are inside all of us. They know everything. Tucker:  Motha! Busher:  Peah? Everything? Tucker:  Imogen, how do we know you’re not mental? Busher:  And she wouldn’t think we’re not? Tucker:  You know what I’m like… Imogen: That’s why I live here, compiling my research, interpreting quietly. People have been locked up in Whitehaven for less. Do either of you know the story of Desmond? Busher:  Don’t care! Tucker:  How can we speak to these, wot, Meee-mong? Other than waiting for his face to mutate again? Imogen: They are difficult to intercept. But they can communicate by radio wave. Here, listen- (Switches on and tunes in radio to 108 mhz) Imogen: Urrrrr! (goes into a trance). Busher:  What’s goin’ on? Is she alright? (Radio interference, the Meemong speak through Imogen) Meemong: We are the Meemong. We live on your face! Busher:  Mee-? Tucker:  -Mong! Meemong: We helped guide you to the Savage Garden. You were the first humans we steered. Busher:  Peah! It’s youse! Tucker:  You are the ones who changed the moles on Busher’s face to show the way? Meemong: Yes. We live on your face. Busher:  Phwizzz! Meemong: Humanity is under attack. Tucker: How? Meemong: Neotenic traits in humans are caused by Soupalon. Flattened broadened face. Large brain, hairless body and face. Longer leg than arm, larger eyes, upright stance. Tucker: Sounds like Bobby Gilbert at closin’ time. What’s ‘Neotenic’? Busher:  How should I know, I left school at 15. Meemong: Neoteny! Soupalon control it by food production through chemistry! Tucker: Right ok, but I’m not sure if- Meemong: You are curious, playful with innate desire to cooperate. Tucker: Is she, they, eh, talking just about me now? Meemong: Soupalon breed Neoteny to sterilise humanity! Busher: I may have all this intergalactic intelligence squattin’ on me face, but I have no idea what she just said. Meemong: They are turning you into babies! This is Neoteny! Your humour degraded to childish amusement of farting, burping, silly faces and minor physical harm. Humans become giant babies. Tucker: That’s about right. But how are the Soupalon actually doing it? Meemong: Humans, unlike other mammals, unlike other intelligent life form, are constantly interested in sex, not only in certain parts of their reproductive cycles. Busher: That’s right! Phwizzzz! Tucker: That didn’t really answer my question but- Busher: We have to leave! Get back to Ginger! Peah! Tucker:  Imogen, Imogen? Imogen! (Snaps fingers) Busher:  Wake up! Imogen: Mhuuuhh? What did they say to you? Tucker:  Imogen, you must come with us. We have someone you need to meet. Busher:  You’re our only chance. Imogen: No… The Meemong are your only choice. Busher:  I love my face! It’s going to save the world! Imogen! All The People! Living for today! Peah! Yeah! Narrator: Hope reborn as the Meemong through Imogen Telch tell our heroes to fight like babies as the Soupalon breed juvenile neoteny to sterilise humankind. Meantime, at the injection point of the Ratchly Chemical Factory. Amplevoicepod make ear-film comedy drama adventures where we submerge your ears in a sea of sound, putting you at the heart of the story along with our heroes. Bursting out feature-length stories with over 40 titles and 50+ characters, all created from collaborative ideas and sculpted over months to arrive at the final mix. Panspermia I & II & III are a 4.5-hour sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite Jamie and his Magic Torch but just as awesome.

Humans born of Soupalons in the great Panspermia. Son of Baldy needs a home and the incredulous Arlee and Jagger must turn on the radio… On the Clinkership in the Savage Garden, (alarm rings) danger here… Tonus: It’s the Clinkership. With me… Dickus: Run Spikus, follow the big brains! Spikus: Nnnnurghgh. Tonus: Sean the Degus, status. Sean: It is a distress signal from Soupalon Overlord. We are being called back home to fight. Tonus: What? Fight who? We have no- Sean: The Meemong! Tonus: The Meemong? They have not been heard of for light cycles. Sean: Overlord. Tampoon squads are amassing. We have our co-ordinates. Order of the Boghead. Our homeland is under attack! Dickus: But I thought these were just stories. Tonus: The myth is real. Spikus: I’m scared. It’s the Meemong! Tonus: We must go immediately. Dickus. You have your orders. Dickus: Hah? What am I supposed to do? Have some cup of tea with Bert Kavanagh at the factory? Tonus: We will sterilise them by their crops. Earth has always been the rogue planet. Living off their flammable and corrosive oxygen, doubling in height over 3000 of their years… Sean, activate Shoupshuttle No.5 for the High Commander. Sean: Yes Overlord. Dickus: Tooo-nusss! Tonus: Dickus, humans are limited to terrestrial environments. This is their weakness and the correct time to attack. They are a falange of freeloaders, relying on two percent of them to grow digestible fuel. So, if we control the food, we will mutate them! (Engines start up, Soupalon squad marches in) Dickus: Yeah, yeah, but what the fuck do I do? Tonus: Kill the witnesses to our Savage Garden. These human mutants survived. They can now overcome and master complicated life support arrangements for space travel and are likely to take over a large part of the galaxy in no time. They will reach Soupalon. It cannot happen. It is bad enough the Meemong are threatening us. Dickus: Stop talking! Tell me how to kill the humans Tonus! You’re the brains of the operation. Tonus: We must go. Dickus, it’s up to you. Get to the Ratchly chemical factory. We have in error created the spark of their existence by letting Bop go back searching for life there. Spikus: Bye! Tonus: Remember Dickus, humanses most startling capability is one of self-delusion. They are not a rational species. (Puts on mask) Tonus: (radio) They act against each other’s interests, competing viciously and brutally for limited resources. They are dangerous. They must be neutralated. Dickus: Oi! (knocks on helmet) I can’t do this all myself aaand look after Spikus! Even if you give me this scrambled Baldy, Baldus or whatever the fuck egg yoke. (Hinge of pressurised door) Tonus: So, bring back the Titan to help you with it. He’s available after the second reassembledge. Dickus: The who? Tonus: Foghornius! It is time to leave the Savage Garden. Dickus, get into your Shoupshuttle. Sean The Degus has plotted your co-ordinates. You must leave to Earth and we go home to fight the Meemong. (Large malfunction) Sean: Uh-ooooh. Tonus: Sean? Status! Report. Dickus: This doesn’t sound good. Sean: The Clinkership is a bit rusty Overlord. We’ve been parked here in the Garden a while. Spikus: We’re vibrating! Tonus: And? Sean: The panels are malfunctioning. Dickus: That doesn’t even feel good… Sean: We’ve broken loose of Savage Garden gravity. Tonus: Excellent. Sean: No Overlord… Nothing is igniting. We are descending in freefall. Tonus: Descend? Descend where? I need engines. Get the Slaggers on it! Sean: We’re falling Overlord. Falling down- To Earth. Dickus: Oh bollocks. Narrator: Tonus’s newly downloaded brain must deal with a falling Clinkership, bound for Earth. Meantime down in Ratchly, Busher is getting the once over at Dr Don Dudern’s general practice. Doctor Don: Uh huh. I see. (clicks pen) That’s it so. Busher: Peah! What Doctor Dudern, what? Tell me what’s wrong with mae?! Doctor Don: It’s a classic case. Busher: What’s that mean Doc, tell me! Doctor Don: You can put your clothes on now. Tucker: Yeah, please Busher, if you don’t mind. Busher: You shouldn’t be in here Tucks! Doctor Don, tell me what I’ve done to me hand? Plaaaese! Doctor Don: Oh your hand is fine, it’s only a sprain. Your underdeveloped genitals on the other hand… Busher: Me wha? Tucker: He’s got tiny nads? But… they look alright to me. Doctor Don: It’s been around here in Ratchly for a while now. Underdeveloped male genitalia and combined, in your case, with a micro phallus- Busher: Phwiizzzz! Tucker: Is it small? That is fackin’ surprising. Can you have a look at mine? I think it’s the same size. I thought I was normal- Busher: This is great! Doctor Don: Excuse me? Busher: You don’t know what this means to mae! I was born with only one ball! Doctor Doc: Nedward, I’ve seen this recently. Instances of underdeveloped local males growing passive with lack of confidence, doing nothing with their lives but sitting in pubs for years, laughing and useless, unemployed and increasing in oestrogen. Tucker: Get to fack! Who, tell me their names. Busher: What are you saying about mae??! Doctor Don: It’s normal! We’re just not reproducing as we once were. Fertility rates are diving. Local men are losing out to foreigners! In a generation we will be gone. No wars. No disease. Just gone! Busher: What are you saying? Are you a Soupalon? Doctor Don: Excuse me, am I a what? Tucker: Alright Busher… pipe down yeah? Doctor Don: Son, you’re a little freaked out but my files are full of patients like this. Men are growing ovaries. They are women. With eggs inside. Busher: Eggs! Peah! Turning into Baldy! Phhzzz! I’m not a chicken! Doctor Don: They just metamorphosed. It’s real. Normally I advocate counselling and the utmost of secrecy. You know what people in this town are like. It’d be all over the Bingo Hall come Friday.   Busher: Peah! Fuck sakes! What about mae? I’m not a woman! Tucker: Laying eggs and turning woman. I’ve actually seen the first close up, but not the second. Yet… Doctor Don: Really? Are you a doctor? Tucker: Er… yeah. My speciality is mutations. Doctor: Ah, you must have read the national medical report correlating low testosterone men and retrosexual behaviour. Busher: I’m not bent either! Tucker: Eh must’ve missed that one. Busher: But you Tucker, you kissed mae, at, at, at the Wishfield. Tucker: It was a puzzle. To open the door! Stop looking at me! Don’t get angry Busher. Busher: Fuck off the lot of yis! Leave me alone! PAH! I’m not, roight?! Doctor Don: Oh dear Nedward, it is perfectly fine to admit you are gay. What’s the fuss these days?! Noth- Oh, oh my god, what is happening to your face? Tucker: Fack me, it’s started again. Doctor Don: Your… your moles are moving! Busher: Ah! No! What is it? Is it a map? Like last time? Tucker: No, it’s spelling something. Busher: Make it stop! Inject me! Doctor Don: In all my years… just who are you people? Tucker: Wait, wait, get me a biro, it’s… I-M-O-G-E-N… Busher: Wha? That’s not how you spell ‘imagine’! Doctor Don: This is insane- Tucker: T-E-L-C-H… I-mo-gen Telch! I-mo-gen Telch? Busher: Has it stopped?! Doctor Don: My god. Not I-mo-gen, Imogen! Imogen Telch. It’s a woman! Busher: Phwizzz! I am not! Tucker: You know the name? Who is she? Doctor Don: She’s a friend of mine. But I- (Distant thunder) Busher: Peah! Did you hear that? Tucker: Fack. They’re coming. Look! They’re entering the atmosphere… Where does your friend live? Doctor Don: But that’s, it’s only a meteorite. Like those in Russia. I’ve seen footage. Tucker: Wrong. You just don’t understand Doc. Doctor Don: What are you both taking? I can’t give out addresses of friends. Busher: Peah! Tell us now right, where does this Imogen Telch live, tell us! Tucker: Quiiiick! The fate of the whole world and his tiny nad sack just may depend on it. Busher: Stop slaggin’ mae! Amplevoicepod make ear-film comedy drama adventures where we submerge your ears in a sea of sound, putting you at the heart of the story along with our heroes. Bursting out feature-length stories with over 40 titles and 50+ characters, all created from collaborative ideas and sculpted over months to arrive at the final mix. Panspermia I & II & III are a 4.5-hour sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite Jamie and his Magic Torch but just as awesome.

Ratchly... Daytime at Whitehaven Psychiatric Hospital… Jennifer is on washing duty. (Distant scream) (Rubbing skin) Desmond: Aziba, aziba, ba… Ba! Jennifer: Stay still while I soap down your mickey… Desmond: …I don’t like it… Matron Jennifer:  Make sure, (rubs harder) to get the finger deep under your foreskin. (finger pops) Desmond: Spaceship! In the skies! That’s mine! That’s m- Matron Jennifer: Desmond, just stop now. Desmond: That’s- Matron Jennifer: Stop bullshitting!  Desmond: Spaceship in the skies… Nurse Mary: Last week you wouldn’t stop going on about soup. (Distant crashing) Desmond: Agh! They’re back! Big Miley: Urrurrr…         Matron Jennifer: Mary, take Nicky inside. I’ll take Desmond. They’re getting agitated. We don’t want a repeat of what happened with big Miley. Desmond: Soupalon! Spaceships! Uhrrrr. Nurse Mary: Soup AND spaceships? You’re full of surprises this morning Desmond. Whoevers in those spaceships Desmond, they should be in here with us at Whitehaven… Heh… Matron Jennifer: Hmmm, there’s a bit of a wind getting up. Push, ladies, push! (Wheelchairs roll, doors lock) (Opening credits) Narrator: Our heroes Arlee, Jagger, Tucker and Busher escape the Soupalon and their Savage Garden and have re-entered Earth. Busher:  Ahh, ahh me fingers. Bent! Ahgh! Ginger? Ginger! Ginger: (coughs) Tucker: Everyone alright? You ok Busha? We’ve got to get out of this place. The Soupalon are coming. Jagger: (Coughing) Wheezeeee… Sorry lads, I had the controls but then the power went. Ginger: Reoor…Arlee: No more voices… no more voices! Lads, I have no more voices! Tucker: Your voice is enough on its own Arlee. Where the fack is the starchild? Jagger, Jagger do you have the egg? Jagger: The egg? Me? I was driving the shuttle. Busher: You had him last. This always happens! Only stupid Baldy Kendall’s interspecies egg-born child that could help us defeat these Soupalon aliens that I didn’t think even existed. Gone! Forever! Jagger: ‘Ere, your fingers don’t look right Ned. Busher: Stop looking at mae! Arlee: Look for the bullet-belt Busher, it was wrapped round the egg. Tucker: Since flying down from the Savage Garden, I think I’ve lost my intelligence! Jagger: I think I’ve lost me slow-down-time power. Am I normal again? Busher: Peah! NO! Looka! Standing in the field! It’s… Baldy: Welcome home lads… Busher: Baldy?! All: Aghhghghghghh! Arlee: Baldy Kendall! Jagger: He’s the size of a 10 year old, Arlee: Only two scenes ago you hatched out of an egg. But where did he get the white overalls? Busher: Peah! Looks like a white Lionel Ritchie! Ginger: Meeeorr! Baldy: I am my father’s son. I will save yis. Tucker: Listen, I might be thick again, but we need to get out of the open. Where are we anyway? Jagger: Back on Earth I think Tucks. Arlee: Sure we’re just outside Ratchly. See the church? Baldy: Then youse shall follow me. Busher: Pyeah! You don’t know where you are sure. Baldy: I am the way. Busher: I don’t care if your father was my next door neighbour and he was kidnapped by aliens out the window with my Ginger, and I had to find these eejits here to go rescue you. Arlee: Terra firma looka Busher hah? We survived didn’t we? Tucker:  Just about… Listen, can we move? Smokin’ wreckage and all… Son of Baldy: I will show yis… Jagger: Tom… you sound just like your father… Son of Baldy: I am not Tom. Tom was my father’s father. I am the starchild, son of Baldy who was son of Tom Kendall, who was son of Bop, who sent to Earth by the Soupalon to monitor you. Arlee: Here, there’s a shed in the corner of the field. Busher: I’m not going in there. I need a doctor sure. Ginger: Meeeoooow! Tucker: Just get out of the open. We can decide what to then yeah? Right? Busher: Gonna die! Gonna die in a stupid Coffin Shed, in a field of… of fuckin’, fuckin’?- Son of Baldy: Rape… Busher: Don’t you touch mae! Jagger:  Had enough up on the Savage Garden eh Busher? heeheeee! Son of Baldy: It is a field of Oilseed Rape. Grown for oil. Harmful to humans. Tucker: Ah, so YOU have my superior intellect now. Arlee: Harmful? I always put it in the pan for a fry up before Soccer Saturday. Jagger: It’s always good to learn som- Busher:  Ah stop talkin’! (Coffin shed door opens, footsteps inside) Jagger:  It’s a bit bleak Tom. Ginger:Meeeoowww. Busher: It’s alright, Ginger sez it’s safe. Arlee: Ah look, a little radio, and… and a stove. Jagger: That armchair looks like the one I have in the parent’s house. Arlee: The house your father won’t let you in to? Jagger: Ah, he’s old, he’s not what he used to be, it’s not his fault. (Sits) This is comfortable though! Tucker: Right, we’re going to need provisions. I tell you what Arlee, you and Jagger stay here with… with… eh- Son of Baldy: I am the starchild. Tucker: That’s a fackin’ ridiculous name! Listen, I’m just going to call you Baldy. Coz you look like ‘im, sound like ‘im and act like ‘im. Busher: I need a doctor Tucks, look at me hand! It’s bent back like a bad paw. Arlee: Bent! Busher: What you say, Stretch? Arlee: I pretend I didn’t hear that… (radio switches on Bruce Dickinson). Radio works anyway. Tucker: Ok, we have to sneak into town. I volunteer. I’ll bring Busher with me. Get him a doctor. It’s better we share the risk yeah? Jagger: Right, coz you two have shared so much already… heeheeee. Arlee: (Snigger)  Baldy: I am the starchild. Busher: Yeah, peah, so you’ve said! Right, come on Tucks. Youse lads don’t go anywhere. Ginger, you stay here. It’s too dangerous for a cat outside. You guard these eejits. Tucker: We’ll be back soon as. Can’t be sure how much Soupalon are around but one thing IS for sure, they’ll be looking for us, and for ‘im. Don’t let Baldy outside. See yis later. (Coffin Shed opens closes) Tucker: You alright Busher? Stop moanin’! Busher: Hate everythin’… Baldy: I am the son of Baldy. Jagger: Shut up Tom will ya? Arlee: (Snigger) Ginger: Meeeooow? Narrator: Son of Baldy is here, sent to guide our heroes. Biding time in a field near Ratchly in an old substation named locally as ‘The Coffin Shed’. Back up on the Savage Garden, high commander Dickus Soupus is seized for killing his Overlord and letting the humans escape. Amplevoicepod make ear-film comedy drama adventures where we submerge your ears in a sea of sound, putting you at the heart of the story along with our heroes. Bursting out feature-length stories with over 40 titles and 50+ characters, all created from collaborative ideas and sculpted over months to arrive at the final mix. Following on from Amplevoicepod's United Mutations III. Now, the universe is at war. Look in the mirror, it starts with the moles on your face... Are they in the same spot as yesterday? Ratchly, daytime at Whitehaven Psychiatric Hospital, Jennifer is on washing duty. Our heroes Arlee, Jagger, Tucker and Busher escape the Soupalon & their Savage Garden and have re-entered Earth. The 'Son of Baldy' is near, sent to guide our heroes who bide their time in a field near Ratchly in an old substation named locally as ‘The Coffin Shed’. Back up on the Savage Garden, Soupalon high commander Dickus Soupus is seized for slaying his overlord and letting the humans escape. But The Boghead may yet need his services to implement the Soupalon plan: NEOZINE - To neotenise and infertilise human civilisation through food via crop protection. Back down on Earth, in Ratchly Chemical Factory, foreman Bert Kavanagh is concerned about his imminent alien co-operation. And who then are these ‘Meemong’ that so threaten Soupalon? It's a Panspermia that goes to the nexus of human existence. And it's a fight to the death, as the moles on Busher's face start moving, spelling the name of their saviour: 'Imogen Telch'. Who is she? Panspermia I & II & III are a 4.5-hour sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite Jamie and his Magic Torch but just as awesome.

Ginger: Meeeewww! Dickus Soupus: What are you lookin’ at? Ginger: REORR! Dickus: Gaaah! Ginger: FSSST FSSST! Dickus: Get it off me face, get it Busher: Ginger! Dickus: ARGH! (Farts)… Tucker: Now’s our chance! Arlee, Busher, we’ve got to get to that flyin’ shuttle thing over there. Arlee: What about Baldy? Busher: What about Ginger? Dickus: AAAAGH! Tucker: Spikus… Show me! Spikus: I’m sorry Tucker, Baldy has no signs of life, he has expired Tucker, I am sorry. Tucker: Fack!Uh, I’m takin’ his bulletbelt, in his memory I will wear it forever. Never forget what you did Baldy. Alright lads?     Busher: He wants the service now... Arlee: Ok Tucker, let’s go. Jagger: Yeah, but what are we doin’? I’m sweatin’ here lads holding this thing. Wheeezee! Spikus: You must go. It is your only hope. Jagger: Hey, ‘ere, can somebody else hold it now.., I-I don’t want to have the whole world in my hands. Tucker: Here, I’ll take it… Dickus: (Fighting off Ginger) Aaagh! Tucker: Oiright! We gotta get to that ship if it kills us. NOW! Tonus: Overlorders? Are you alright? Can you hear me? Slaggers! Slaggers! Capture them all! I, Tonus, am now the Overlorder here! Grab them! Grab them all! Tucker: Get the skates on! Oooh! This is a fackin’ heavy belt by the way. Busher: Lookit, we can’t leave Ginger! Arlee: Come on Busher! Jagger: Move the fat arse Ned! Busher: GINGER! Tucker: Don’t just stand there lookin’ at it, get in! Busher:  Uh, I can’t leave her I can’t leave her! Tucker: Take the egg for me Arlee, and don’t drop it this time. Jagger: How do we fly this hunk o’ junk? Arlee: Flick the switch like last time? Busher: GINGER! Peshuweeshuweshuwee! Please! Come to daddy! Dickus: Aaaghghgh! Mangy orange monshtaar! Arhshhskkhs… Ginger: (Hears Busher) Reroow?- Busher: She’s seen me lads! AW GINGER! PHWIZZZ! Jagger: More knobs than a fuckin’ SSL mixin’ desk! Which one? I don’t know. I can’t relax… me head... too much stress. Fhoooo… c’mon! Block out the demons Jagger, HUAAGH… Busher: Peah! Can’t look! Ginger’s all alone out there! Arlee: You can’t go out there Ned. Busher: (tears) noooo! Arlee: No! Ned! Busher: Don’t touch me! Tucker: Jagger, it’s just an updated version of the last one; see the left panel above your head? Jagger: Yeah?  Tucker: In the centre there’s a blue hexagon, Jagger: Yeah, see that… Tucker: Well, stick the middle finger up in it, an’ pull it towards ya! Jagger: You mean give it the finger? Tucker: Yeah, give it the finger! Jagger: (Breathes in…) (Orb bursts into life) Jagger: (Exhales) Tucker: Ooiright! Let’s get airborne! Busher: No wait! She’s seen it, she’s? she’s?- come on Ginger, YES! YES! She’s comin’! Stop the plane! Stoppit! Jagger: I can’t! Me finger’s stuck up her panel! Tucker: Use your free hand Jagga, spread the fingers out in front of ya and whichever way you move your hand, this baby will follow. COME ON GINGER! Busher: (Looks up) Oh please God… I swear I’ll do whatever you say, just make sure she makes it… WOAH! Careful Jagger! Arlee: Oh me heart, I nearly dropped it.   Jagger: Sorry! I guess this means I’m the pilot now yeah? Busher: Hold still will ya! Thirty more seconds for fucksake, that’s all I’m askin’. Gingeeeerrrrr! Ginger: (Running) (REEEEOOORRR!), Dickus: (In pain) Ah, come back yis beetrailors! I’ll have your insides for this. I can’t seeeeeee. Spikus: Go Ginger… Run with your heart of fire… You can do it! Hihih! Jagger: Wheeezzzeee, this isn’t easy with me fingerin’ above me head and me nervous hand out here! Heeeheee… Tucker: Get us out of here Jagga, them aliens are gainin’… Busher: NO! Twenty seconds! What’s wrong witcha? Tucker: Are you stupid? It’s suicide! Busher: We’re not leavin’ without Ginger. She got us here, an’ I’m takin’ her back ROIGHT? Tucker: Get your hands off me Busher. Ginger: REEOWW! Tonus: RE! SPECT! WALK! Whaddya say?! THEY MUST NOT LEAVE THE SAVAGE GARDEN! Wooo! Ginger: RORWW! Busher: Ten more seconds! Jagger: Ah sick, I can lift up just by liftin’ me little finger… (FX – Power moving up) Busher: GINGOOOR!! Ginger: (running) Reeerooeer! Dickus: (Getting to his feet) … This is one flight you’re not gonna make… Ya four leg festerin’ fuss fuss! (FX – Click of Silvic Liquid) Jagger: Up, up and away! Fwooouagh! Ah this is deadly. Arlee: Lads! Yis’ll have to shut the hatch! Busher: Peah NO! She’s nearly here! Looka the runs of her! Five seconds. Fowar seconds! Stay on the ground! Dickus: Think you can tear me to shreds hah? Spikus: Run Ginger! Run! Busher: GINGOOOR! Arlee: JUMP YA FONGIN’ FURBALL! Amplevoicepod make ear-film comedy drama adventures where we submerge your ears in a sea of sound, putting you at the heart of the story along with our heroes. Bursting out feature-length stories with over 40 titles and 50+ characters, all created from collaborative ideas and sculpted over months to arrive at the final mix. United Mutations is a 4-hour sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite Ulysses 31 but just as awesome.

Gabbler (head stretches in the Wishfield): It’s not working! It’s not, I can’t… it’s- Pedup: He’s on the way to growin’ an extra head! Busher: Ah, this is useless! Tucker: Like the riddle was useless? Do you SEE where we are? Come on! Arlee: Give it the holly! Jagger: Heezzzzeee I haven’t pulled so hard since Mrs. Bruno forced me to. Tucker: Speed it up Gabbler!! Speed it up! HEAVE! Gabbler: Wait! Wait! Waaaaaaiiittt! AHHHHHHAAAAH! (Stretch speeds up to a POP!) Gabbler: AAHHHH! Pedup Bauer: The flys of ‘im. Gabbler: UMPH! Tucker: Uh!! Yes! We did it! Yes! Pedup Bauer: Askskskshh! The flies of ‘im! He got by with a little help from his friendlery, now that’s nice isn’t it. I am so dead. I may as well turn meself up to the Overlord and collect me death certificate. Arlee: Another team effort saves the day! Gabbler: I’m so glad to see youse lads again… I thought I’d never get through. Jagger: Anythin’ for a friend, fhooo… Busher: Why was it you tho’? What’s goin’ on? Gabbler: All I want to say is thanks lads, you all got me through to fight another da- (Ginger flies out of the sky and lands on Gabbler’s head) Ginger: REOORRRWWW! FSSST! FSSST! Gabbler: -aaaayy! AGGAGHH! GET IT OFF ME GET IT OFF ME! Busher: PEAH! GINGER! IS IT REALLY YOU? AWWW PEAH! MY GINGER! STAY AWAY FROM MY CAT GABBLER! Ginger: Purrr purr purrrr purrrr… Arlee: Holy fong! Now that WAS unexpected. AHH! AHH! NOOOO! Busher: Would you stop that? That’s all you ever do! Ah me head this, ah me head that. Doin’ MY head in! Arlee: Shut up Busher! Tucker?! Tucker! It’s the sounds, it’s playing forwards finally, just the first bit now! “SECOND EGG! SAVAGE SECOND EGG!”  Tucker: This means something Arlee. Arlee: No shit Tucker. I’m glad you’re the one here with the brains. We must be close. Busher: I love you Ginger… Gabbler: Half me hair’s been tore out! Tucker: Shit! Wait a minute! Jagger: What’s up Tucks? Busher: Ah my baby, yeah, Neddy’s here… did they hurt you? Ah me baby peah, yeah? Tucker: Pedup! Pedup! Are ya still there? Arlee: Ask him has he seen an’ egg lyin’ around somewhere. Pedup: I am as true as I am here, yep. Tucker: Pedup, you have to stop the Gardens. If you think you’ve nothing left to lose then help us if it’s the last thing you ever do. Our friend, he must be near… you need to stop the Gardens so we can get to him quickly. Please! Help us. Busher: What are ya doin’? Pedup: Youse humanses want Pedup to do somethin’ for youse? Tucker: Yes! Pedup: Pedup Bauer has observed youse humanses and he’s fierce impressed. Yis are full of the friendlery… Akskskshshsh. Before the badness is bate out of me and me mind erased, I’ll stop these Gardenses for yis. Tucker: Oiiright! Pedup, you the, eh, you the Soupalon! Yeah! Go! Pedup: O-K- Good luck on the Trail of Bees! Pedup GONE!  Busher: He’s not going to that for us. Tucker: Well we have to hope Busher, don’t we? Jagger: Jaaaysis… Gabbler: Oh no… Arlee: Wha? Tucker: Listen… Gabbler: I don’t believe it… Arlee: That sounds like- Jagger: A voice. Arlee: Well of course it’s a voice Jagger, what else would it be? Jagger: The wind? Arlee: Sure, the wind… yeah, Jagger: Yeah, wheeezeee… yeah, I am right, that’s a voice Arlee, no messin’ Tucker: That’s Baldy and he’s got problems. Move it, follow the trail to the top. Let’s go! Jagger: We’re comin’ lad, hold on! Don’t bottle it! Huuuargh! Arlee: The Jagger-naut is rollin’ on… Narrator: The march is on to find Baldy… As Ginger flies in to be reunited with Busher… Yet, he still remains sceptical of just who is Gabbler… Meantime, Soupalon Overlord Malthus Brindle is perturbed… (Aboard Degus’s Orb) Sean: The humans are on the ‘Trail of Bees’ Overlord. Brindle: Pedup Bauer you will be terminated! Tonus: THE LAST! THE LAST! THE LAST SOOOUPERRRR! HE is HERE, AMOGNGNGNN! GRAB IT! He is the key… he is the secret… Brindle: LIE DOWEN TONUS! Tonus: Uh-ooooh... shshshhshsh, (Plop Flush)… Tonus: Uh-ooooh... shshshhshsh, he is here! Boghead: Brindle! Brindle: Boghead! Master. I- Sean, you didn’t tell- Boghead: Brindle, the task was to commence the Savage Garden experiment… Brindle: Yes Boghead, Boghead: …to finalise the bio-compound chips.  Brindle: there has been a breach; Humans. Boghead: A most welcome breach. We learn more directly from the minds of those we aim to control. Brindle: But Boghead, Dickus Soupus has brought them here, they have cut through our Gardens again and again. Boghead: Brindle! Hunt and kill Dickus Soupus. He is a traitor. Brindle: Yes, he is a traitor to all of us. Boghead: Dickus is a traitor to human fear. If Dickus will help them, he will supersede you. Hunt him. Kill him. Brindle: Yes Overlord,  Boghead: To maintain human control we must keep the mass ignorant, fearful and condemned to the lower fourth dimension. The humans on the Savage Garden have superseded this. They must never return to Earth. Boghead: Oh and Brindle… Brindle: Yes Overlord? Boghead: Behind you… Pedup: OVERLORD! Brindle: LIE DOWEN! (Scuffle ensues) Boghead: Boghead gone… (PLOP FLUSH) Pedup: Overlorderly, Overlord! Turn off the Savage Gardenery! Turn it all off! I’ve seen your snakery. Brindle: TONUS! Get the Slaggers! Immediately. Pedup: Ever since yis put the bad head on me for this job, I’ve had the visions; I see meself drivin’ meself a box in the mickey every day! And what is a mickey?? I am Soupalon but I feel half-HUMAN! Yis gave me the devilry! Bad head! I knew it once I met THEM! What have yis done with my mind? I got the visions. You gave ‘em to me! Put the bad head on me. See meself hosed down in the garden with the water and no dinner after. See the mammy bate me sideways for losin’ the bicycle in the forest after I went for a shite in the dark. What’s a bicycle? Who’s me ‘mammy’? YOU POISONED ME TO FEEL HUMAN! So before I am real dead for sure, all ways up, and youse take me, I will take away the Savage Garden! Askskskskskhhshhsh! Aw revenge for Pedup! Haahaha! I’s get me owns back on yis… Snakery bastards, askskhshsksh… Brindle: LIE DOW- (Zap Flash…) Pedup: UUUGH! Zapelry… Pedup… Gone… (collapses). Brindle: Tonus? Tonus: Life expectancy over Soupalon, mmggmgngnn, Brindle: Tonus!  Tonus: Never trust a Slagger, always trust Tonus! HENDRIX! Brindle: Pedup gone! Sean! Sean? SEAN?! Where is the navigator Sean the Degus? Tonus: Well he’s not here anyway… Brindle: GAH! Tonus, fly this orb to the Trail of Bees. NOW. Tonus: Fly it? YES OVERLORD! MOSH! Amplevoicepod make ear-film comedy drama adventures where we submerge your ears in a sea of sound, putting you at the heart of the story along with our heroes. Bursting out feature-length stories with over 40 titles and 50+ characters, all created from collaborative ideas and sculpted over months to arrive at the final mix. United Mutations is a 4-hour sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite Ulysses 31 but just as awesome.

Busher: Peah… Pedup Bauer: Akskskskhhhsh!!! Arlee: AAAAH! Pedup: That’s far enough with yis thanks very much! Arlee: Lads, it’s another! Jagger: What is that yoke? Busher: Head like a bale of hay looka. Tucker: Here we go... Gabbler: I don’t believe it. Pedup: Howayis! Aksskskshhh! Stay still now. I have the betterin’s of yis, so no fight from ya now ya hear? Fuckin’ sure. I am Pedup Bauer, I am the Savagery! I tend to these Gardens as if they were me own, and sure they actually are anyway, akskskskshshsh! Youse have travelled far I takes it. Weary now? Time for yis to stop! How yis got past the Shylerbols and the Scorgie I na’er know the magic, but after the Garden of Futchafutcha my master’s got the want in him that I come here to meet yis at this wall.Tucker: So where are we then? Pedup: Well! Youse are now all in the WISHFIELD and this is its wall; and there in this wall; there is a door... and ahind this door; there is your answer. Gabbler: What answer? Pedup: The answer you seek. Arlee: What answer do we seek? Pedup: Sure youse should now that! It’s in your head! Arlee: In my head?, Can’t be in my head coz all I have are voices telling me about some egg here that we should reach, usin’ Busher’s moley face! Pedup: Aksksksksh! How come’s I should know what you should know? Have yis, have yis the dose what? Yis have the answer, that’s all I know. Busher: Shuttp! Peah! How do we get through this door then? Pedup: Ah fuckin’ sure, so, yeah, right; I Pedup Bauer give yis the riddle, youse work the riddlery out, makes your wish in the Wishfield; and she’ll open up quare ‘n easy and I shall let yis pass not a bother on me, swear on me Mammy’s life. Arlee: Do you even have a mammy? Pedup: I don’t know… What is a “mammy”? Ah, y’ll have to leave that one with me. Akskskskskshshsh! So do yis want to hear the riddle or what? Tucker: Well, we’ve no other choice boys what do you say? We can’t complain coz there’s no use complainin’. Running is not an option because there’s is nowhere to bloody run to. We’re gonna just have to go for it! Like always, eh Busher? Busher: Peah, no choice as ya said. Pedup: Fierce breezy out isn’t it? Arlee: Go on, give us the riddle so. Jagger: I like riddles, I’m on for this, yeah, I’ll do this-   Pedup: Aksh! Ah well done. So… are yis ready? To enter through the wall of the Wishfield you must answer my riddlery… now… now… are, are yis sure now? Yis don’t just want to give up and head off the other way for a bit do yis, hah? I don’t mind- Gabbler: Tell us the riddle!! Come on. Tucker: Do it. Jagger: Yeah, just do it… Wheeezeee! Pedup: Akskkskshshsh! Sure enough, the riddle it is! Now… now.., a-listen carefully… Here we go… now… ok… (clears phlegm): ‘Show pure love and favour, Savour this flavour, And one from four shall open the door…’ Gabbler  Show pure love and favour, savour th- Busher: Peah! What’s that supposed to mean, fucksake?! Arlee: It’s a riddle sure, stop gettin’ angry all the time will ya Busher? Just coz your confused and nervous! Go punch something and have another wank! … And not about my sister either, lord Jesus… Jagger: Ah come on Ned. Like the riddle sez; ‘show pure love’! Busher: Meh! Tucker: Do me a fava! Sayin’ sorry to someone who saved his skin is as far as Busher goes. Busher: What ya sayin’? Pedup: Ahh this is quaren good, there’ll be bloodery, bloodery at the wall! Akskskshshshsh! Gabbler: Hang on, “one from four shall open the door”, but there’s five of us! Tucker: (To himself) “Show pure love and favour, savour this flavour an’ one from four shall open the door”… Should there be somebody AT the door? Jagger: Yeah! Like to let the others in… You’re right Tucks! Yeah. Jesus, I’d have never thought of that. I’ll do that, yeah, I’ll be the one, I’m on for that. I’ll do the door. If, if that’s what I should do, like, maybe it’s the orangey alien that should do it. I don’t know. I can’t decide. Tucker: Just do it Jagga mate. I know what I am sayin’. Go on. Busher: But what do we have TO DO? Uh? Stupid riddle! Jagger: Is it alright if I have a look at the door in the wall, Mr Pedup? Pedup: Sure go on ahead with yourself, I don’t mind. Arlee: “Savour the flavour”, Savour the flavour? Like a little flavour saver below the lip, for tastin’ the shaved fong? Hahaha! ‘Ere Busher you have a little goatee beard on ya, maybe you have to ‘savour the flavour’ heheheh! Busher: Flavour Flave! Black Rappers! I was watchin’ Flava the other night and all the black rappers on it! Every hour! AHAAW HAAW! They all sound like Whitney Houston now tho’, with the tight balls. Bring back the real rappers! Peah! Busher: (Rapping) “Show pure love, show pure favour, cum oon,- sava d’ flava, sava d’ flava, HO!!! One from four gonna open the door- can I have tape of it, one from four gonna open the door! Another tape of it; one from four gonna open the door”! Ah I could’ve been Jordan in The New Kids on the Block. I could have me chest puffed out on stage with Donny, Danny, Joey n’ Jonny! Bastards! Tucker: There’s Busher showin’ pure love again! What are you like? Arlee: Pure love! That’s it, that’s it!!  Tucker: Why all this hate man? You bitter coz you were never famous? Gabbler: Yeah you should show more pure love Busher! Busher: Wha?- Tucker: He wouldn’t know how. Busher:  I fuckin’ would! I-I can, I’ve, I can, I, peah, peah, p-p-p-p-peah, Tucker: You wouldn’t know how mate! Listen I don’t care who you are or what you’ve done, but deep down your soul is pure love Busher. I don’t care if you are bitter and twisted. I don’t care if you hate everyone and are the first to criticise any effort we make, your soul IS pure love. Arlee: And you think, I, may be stretchin’ it… Tucker: No no no Arlee!! It’s true. Busher: Sure you show me how then if you know so much about it! Show pure love to me! Tucker: Oiright, I will! Gabbler: How’s he gonna do that? This is Busher we’re talkin’ about. He’d box the head off a fly. Arlee: And he WAS doin’ that earlier… Busher: Shut up you. Gabbler: See? Tucker: The problem is you Busher; you’ve become delinked from the highest level of yourself. You’re wadin’ through the depths of your lower consciousness, lost, alone, amd angry… But, I can reconnect you to your true self… Busher: Do it then! I’m waitin’! Tucker: There you go again, you’re exuding too much hatred man! To express pure love you must give up your desire to control and dominate. Arlee: Good luck with that. Busher: Show me! Peah… Tucker: Stop trying to dominate Ned. Busher: Ah, right…. Ok… S-show me how do express pure love Tucker… Please… Tucker: Oiright! Stand still! No, go on, stand still, don’t try to control and dominate, okay? Busher: Peah… fair enough… ‘kay, I’m standin’ still now. Tucker: Just relax and don’t think about control. Busher: No control… Tucker: I want you to lose control, Busher: Losin’ it now, alright… I’m losin’ it. Tucker: Close your eyes… Busher: What? Tucker: I said close your eyes… you can’t control what you can’t see… Busher: But I don’t want to close me eyes Tucker. Tucker: It’s not gonna work if you’re not gonna trust me Busher. I know that is difficult for you but that’s what it’s gotta take to show you. Are you with me Ned? Pedup: Are yis workin’ on the riddle or what? Askskskskskshhhshs, Arlee: Heheh, look at this… Close your eyes Nedward, you asked for this. Tucker: Come on. Busher: Peah, alright… but I’m watchin’ you. Tucker: Close ‘em. Busher: Peah… there… See? Closed, Tucker: Now stay still, I’m coming towards you… Gabbler: What’s he playin’ at? Busher: Phfwizzz! Me head is spinnin in the dark. I see Arlee’s sister. Tucker: It’s alright, we’re all here… you’re safe and with friends. Now keep your eyes closed… gettin’ nearer…  Busher: Okay... Tucker: That’s it… Give up your control… … Now… Do you feel that? Pedup: Ah, humanses fair confuse me so they do, but I do like it. Busher: Peah, yeah I feel that… Tucker: What is it? Busher: It’s your hand on my left shoulder… Tucker: That’s right. Now… … what’s that? Busher: Y-your hand on m-my right shoulder… Tucker: Yeah, now take away the hate, take away control… what’s left? Busher: I-I- Tucker: Yes Busher… You get pure love. (Kissing begins) Busher: Oh Tucker… Arlee: Haha! Gabbler: I-don’t-believe-it… Pedup: HAH? BITTA FUCKLERY! There’s been a physical union! Arlee: Tucker’s slapped the tongue in! Jagger: That’s not right. Is it? Can’t be… That’s sick… Ah Jesus… Arlee: Hahahahaha! Jagger: Can’t stop lookin’ though… Gettin’ a twinge in me balls! Busher:  MMGMNGGHAAAAHH! GET OFF ME YA BASTARD! Amplevoicepod make ear-film comedy drama adventures where we submerge your ears in a sea of sound, putting you at the heart of the story along with our heroes. Bursting out feature-length stories with over 40 titles and 50+ characters, all created from collaborative ideas and sculpted over months to arrive at the final mix. United Mutations is a 4-hour sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite Ulysses 31 but just as awesome.

The story so far... (a gentle recap); Baldy Kendall has been snatched by the Soupalon race and now upon their Savage Garden satellite station, his importance to the Soupalon is stupendously realised. But what of Busher and his quest with Tucker, Arlee and Jagger to primarily rescue Busher’s cat Ginger (but also having to track down Baldy?) as the fate of humanity hangs in the balance? Our furtive foursome have wound up in the Garden of Futchafutcha, a hypnotic version of a TV game show where presenter Mr. Gay Chris presides. Can they find the final answer to free themselves? Even if they do, the Wishfield awaits with its confounded riddles. Is the humans' life expectancy really over? Or will Baldy Kendall take his place among the pantheon of Gods? All will be inveigled in United Mutations III, a 74 minute full force farcical machine from the purveyors of HQ audio adventure ear-films: Amplevoicepod. Here then is the first of 4 parts to tease it all out. Soon it'll be calving time! (Opening credits sequence) Gay Chris: HELLO BUSHER! I’m Gay Chris! And welcome to ‘Futchafutcha’! Busher: Aaaah! Gay Chris: Move your feet across my hands and sit down on our fabulously designed palms! Okaaay, fastest finger first on Futchafutcha… Busher: What’s goin’ on? Gay Chris: Is the WRONG answer!! Okaay, fastest finger first on Futchafutcha! Busher: What the fuck? Tucker: If you want to get out of there, you are going to have to play it. Arlee: We need you to play it Nedward. Tucker: Come on Busher! Jagger: It’s up to you now Ned. You wanted it your own way… now you have it wheeeezzzeee! Busher: This is quaren stupid… what does Gay Chris want? He could kill me… Aw, just do it Busher, just do it… do it… for Ginger… Agh! Okaaay… I’m ready to play the game? Gay Chris: Is the RIGHT answer!! Okaay, fastest finger first on Futchafutcha! Arlee: Phew! Right we’re in… Ahhh! Get out of me head! Busher: Eh howaya Gay Chris! Gay Chris: HELLO NEDDY BUSHER! Fastest finger first remember? Busher: Yeah, yeah, you’ve said it a million times sure… Tucker: I hope he doesn’t fuck this up. Gay Chris: Comfortable? Comfortable? Ok, bring on your fantasies! Busher: Me what? Arlee: What the hell? That hand is raisin’ up a finger! Busher: Oh no… Morten: (POP) Taaaaake-Hi my name is Morten Harkett from AHA and Busher likes to dream about me in the showers Jagger: Wheeeze! Another finger! Laura: (POP) Hi I’m Laura and Busher likes to suck my old toothbrush and stare at me through the hole in his bathroom wall… Tucker: Look! Another one! Bloody hell… Violet: (POP) Hi I’m Violet and Busher likes to slap his cock off me arse for twenty Euro down by the park after the bingo. Busher: PEAH! I do not! Gay Chris: Is the WRONG answer! Jagger: Ah you’re sick Ned… Busher: (Under breath) Why Busher why? … Mrs. Bruno: (POP) Hi… I’m Mrs. Bruno and Busher likes to watch me get rode by the Jagger lad down by the Mass Path, at midnight. Busher: What? WHAT? Jagger: HAH? Gabbler: I don’t believe it! The policeman’s wife? Tucker: Holy shit Arlee: You did not! Jagger: Sure you look at her through the window Arlee!? Arlee: I can look can’t I sure? You shot the whole LOT into her! Jagger: It was only the once right, s-she wouldn’t leave me alone! I had to do it to get away! Gabbler: She’s twice your age Jagger! Busher: But I don’t even remember that! How do we stop this game? Gay Chris: Is the WRONG answer! Okaay, fastest finger first on Futchafutcha! Mrs. Flenny: (POP) (cough) Howaya, I’m Mrs. Flenny and Busher likes to put it through the letterbox for a free bit o’ BJ when he’s had the Hash in him. Tucker: No waaaay! He’s doin’ Mrs Flenny too and she on the pension an’ everythin’. Busher: Make it stop Gay Chris please… what do you want from me? Gay Chris: Is the WRONG answer! Okaay, fastest finger first on Futchafutcha! Busher: Ahhhh! Gabbler: Busher, I know what he wants! Arlee: What does he want Gabbler? Busher: Tell me please Gabbler, please! Gay Chris: Is the WRONG answer! Okaay, fastest finger first, on Futchafutcha! Gabbler: Do you trust me Busher? Tucker: Come on Gabbler, this is not the time! Help him! Busher: What!? Gay Chris: Is the WRONG answer!! Okaay, fastest finger first on Futchafutcha! Jagger: Ah Gabbler… Busher: Just get me out of here! Gay Chris: Is the WRONG answer!! Okaay, fastest finger first on Futchafutcha! Tucker: Would you just say it you stubborn fack! Arlee: Uh-oh here’s another finger! ‘Manda: (POP) Hi this is ‘Manda and Busher likes to hold hands and take pictures because he doesn’t know how to kiss a girl… Jagger: Wheeeezzzeee it’s the first girlfriend is it Ned? Busher: ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! PEAH, GABBLER I TRUST YAOW! NOW TELL ME WHAT TO DO! Gay Chris: Is the WRONG answer! Okaay, fastest finger first on Futchafutcha! Gabbler: Ok, Busher… Jagger: More lads, over there- Caroline: (POP) Hiya, this is Caroline and Busher likes to squirt his hot load over my head onto me Daddy’s favourite picture of Manchester United in the sitting room, because he had never masterbay- Busher: Quick ya FUCKER! Caroline: …ated before in his life. Gay Chris: Is the WRONG answer! Okaay- Sandra: (POP) Hi this is Sandra Davidson and Busher likes to spit in me face, when I don’t give him the ride at the back of the Arlee’s disco… Busher: AHAAWW AHAW! I remember that one tho’! Arlee: You were tryin’ to get up on my sister were ya? Busher: Peah, wassit got to do witcha? Gay Chris: Let’s play… Comfortable? Comfortable? Hmm hmm? Comfortable? Gabbler: Ok, Busher, Gay Chris wants you to use your fastest finger first. Each finger holds a fantasy of yours on top of it. Select the best one. Use your instinct, be fast and don’t think. That’s why it’s fastest finger first! Gay Chris won’t let you go until you tell the truth… Arlee: Hahaha, good one Gabbler… Tucker: Oooiright! Jagger: They’re all equally sick Ned.  Tucker: Woo! Busher: But but, I like them all! I don’t know which one… Gay Chris: Is the WRONG answer! Okaay, fastest finger first on Futchafutcha! Tucker: There has to be a best one, there always is! The one you can rely on, you know, every night! Gay Chris: Comfortable? Comfortable? Comfortable? Fastest Finger, fastest finger, fastest finger, futchafutcha, fastest finger-Busher: (under breath) Which one tho’. All so great. Mrs Flenny’s a golden oldie quick one but with Laura you build up slow and easy. Morten is for when I’m angry and need to wash it off PEAH! Aw sweeeeet Caroline… the classic, fwizzz! Mrs Bruno; best after the hash when you don’t think of Jagger’s raw slapped arse. Sandra… fresh in the mind like yesterday… which is it? MMMM… Gabbler  Come on Busher… come on… Tucker: I hope you are right Gabbler… if not, we may never leave this place. Arlee: Don’t say that… Bad enough hearing voices sure, I don’t need to be watchin’ Busher’s sick fantasies poppin’ up for the rest of me life… Busher: (To himself) Are the lads are watchin’ me? Has to be Caroline for the shock of it at the time… Ah no… but is it me best fantasy? Why are there no ones with supermodels or B0urney’s girlfriend in it? Why do I always have to get the stupid real ones? Tucker: He’s thinkin’ too much… just spit it out!  Gay Chris: Comfortable? Hmm? Comfortable? Fastest finger, fastest finger, fastest finger, futchafutcha, fastest finger. There’s no rush, there’s no rush… Take your time... Fastest finger… VOTE NOW! Gabbler: I know I am right. Jagger: You have to be! Wheeeezzzeee! Gay Chris: We want you to win, we want you to win, everyone’s behind you, take your time, take your time… Vote now, fastest finger first, comfortable? Take your time. Busher: Stop talk-STOP TALKIN’ TO ME WILL YA?? Tucker: Stop thinkin’ will ya... Gay Chris: Comfortable? Take your time… Busher: (To himself) Head’s spinnin’, need Mammy… Everyone’s lookin’ at me. Ok Gay Chris, I’m gonna go for it… Gay Chris: Is the RIGHT ANSWER! Amplevoicepod make ear-film comedy drama adventures where we submerge your ears in a sea of sound, putting you at the heart of the story along with our heroes. Bursting out feature-length stories with over 40 titles and 50+ characters, all created from collaborative ideas and sculpted over months to arrive at the final mix. United Mutations is a 4-hour sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite Ulysses 31 but just as awesome.

From the Garden of Aiden to Dickus and Baldy at the Garden of Rememberin’s… Ginger: Meoorooow! Baldy: No, no I can’t go on… I’m fucked. Dickus: You probably are, but we must keep walking. Baldy: Uuughghnn (collapses). Ginger: Roooreeeww… Dickus: Baldy! Baldy! Get up! Baldy! Come on! Spikus: Stop it Dickus! Leave him alone, it’s okay fuss fuss… Dickus: We have to keep going. I know what I’m doing Spikus. I will tell ya, I said I would! Don’t worry, trust me… Baldy! Baldy! (FX voices begin to echo into the distance as Baldy slides into unconsciousness) Baldy: Uhhhh… sleeeep… Laura: (FX babbling brook) Baldy… Baldy? Baldy: Laura? Is that you? Laura: Baldy, I will wash you. Lay your tired body upon this low stone pedestal… Baldy: Ok Laura… Laura: Undo your bulletbelt and look down, I will dribble on your legs. Baldy: Yes Laura… Laura: Look into the puddle that I create… Baldy: Feels so good Laura. Laura: Will you look into the puddle? Baldy: What will I see? Laura: Even Tucker cannot tell. For the puddle shows many things… Things that were… Things that are… And some things that’ve not yet come to pass. Baldy: It looks dark an’ an’ muddy. I can’t- Laura: I know what it is you saw… Baldy: But I haven’t looked yet. Laura: For it is in my mind. It is the future, Baldy. Baldy: Sure I know it is, if ya can’t see it, that’s the future, all muddy and not even happened yet… Laura: It is what will come to pass if you fail. Baldy: You mean nothing will come to pass if I fail? What am I meant to pass? A test? Like an exam? I was useless in school. Laura: Baldy… Look into the puddle. The United Mutations are breaking up. Baldy: The who? Who’s breakin’ up? Are you breakin’ up with me Laura? Can you do that from Heaven? Is me daddy still there? Laura: It has already begun. He will try to take the egg. Baldy: Who will- What egg? What are talkin’ about Laura? Are ya drunk up there? You hangin’ around with the Jesus, gettin’ pissed on the wine? You better not go off with him! Laura: You know of whom I speak. Baldy: I don’t actually, I’m a bit lost… Fair enough the wash was needed and it’s very nice but I haven’t a clue what you are on about. Can you dry me feet now? Laura: Listen you fucking idiot, one by one he will destroy them all! Baldy: Do you mean that Soupalon ‘Brindle’? He’s a bollocks alright, he killed you remember? Yeah it must be him… What do I need to do? Don’t forget in the cracks there… Dickus: Wake up Baldy! Wass he doin’ Spikus? ‘Ere! Stop rollin’ down your shorts! Is he dreamin’? Ginger: Meeeooow! Baldy: (slap) Uh Laur-UGNH! (slap) Stop it! Stop slappin’ me! I’m pregnant! Dickus: So you keep sayin’, now can we keep goin’ please? We have to find your friends! Baldy: I was enjoyin’ that! I slept with Laura… Dickus: Very happy for ya- Spikus! Get a hold of him there, up on to his feet. Baldy: She was sayin’ mad stuff to me. Dickus: Makes a change I suppose, now we must move! The Slaggers will be near! Baldy: She was sayin’ stuff about some ‘United Mutations’ or somethin’- Spikus: UuuuH! Ginger: Reooow? Dickus: Ahh! Baldy: (Falls to the ground) Ah!!! Careful! Me waters could have broken. Dickus: Eh but… Nevermind! Listen hold still there. You said ‘United Mutations’, how’d you know about that? Baldy: Me wife Laura told me. Dickus: Hah? You became one with her? Didn’t know you had it in ya. Where is she now Baldy? Baldy: Well now she’s in me dreams… Dickus: No! NO! Where is she NOW! Like physically? Is she here on the Savage Garden? Has Brindle got her? How does she know about mutants? Baldy: (Taps fag) Brindle (lights fag) killed her. (Exhales) She’s dead Dickus… Ginger: Rooow… Dickus: The mangy mylox! You can’t trust that lad can ya? Stuh! But what about these United Mutations? How’d she tell you in your dreams? Baldy: I don’t know. Dickus: What did she say was going to happen to them? Baldy: I don’t know Dickus right? I don’t know what she meant about who, and I don’t know why she said it. All I know is that the lads are here to come rescue me.  Dickus: But it’s very important you remember right? We’re still in the Garden of Rememberin’s right? So yer in the right place, come on! Quick now, what did Laura say? We’ve really no time for this! Baldy: Stop pokin’ me, I can’t. Dickus: Baldy, you do realise what’s going to happen to your world, if you can’t remember? Baldy: Yeah sure… Dickus: Brindle will- wha? You remember? Baldy: No, but I remember what ‘Tracksuit’ told me in the spaceship. Dickus: What was it? Tell me! Baldy: Sure he said yis are gonna take over the Earth with bags of chips and youse are using this Savage Garden place to harvest human mind molecules or some shit. That he’s going to turn everyone into forever people with better brains. Sure we don’t need better brains. We’re doin’ alright thanks. Dickus: You’ve got to stop this! Brindle can’t win! I mean, you can’t let, let, ahem, THEM win! Baldy: I know, I know! Oh yeah, and he said that ‘I’m the key’ and my baby holds the key of the universe… Dickus: That you are Baldy, that you are… Spikus: Dickus… Ginger: Meooooew! Dickus: Baldy, and Spike, this is for you too; we and by ‘we’ I mean ‘him’; ‘Malthus Brindle’, is going to change the collective mind of your planet. The Boghead, our Soupalon master, knows we can’t take yis by force, nor breed yis out, but he can program yis for collective trauma-based mind control. He’s been plannin’ this one for a looooong time. Self-determination Baldy, that’s what yis have, that’s what me and Spikus love about your place, n’tha’ right Spikus? All the choices in the world… We on Soupalon have no choice like that, it is just the Boghead this, Boghead that… Baldy: Why am I the one everyone is always countin’ on? I was just a part-time self-employed cartoonist sittin’ on the dole back in Ratchly… Dickus: Because it is your destiny… Baldy: Why my destiny? Why not Tucker’s destiny? Arlee’s? Jagger’s? Even stupid Busher’s? Why is it me they are here to save?? What did I ever do? Dickus: You did nothin’ Baldy. You are the most revolting human for a reason. It’s all set up this way. Your friends too have their parts to play. That’s why we need to get to them quickly! Spikus: Dickus… Baldy: I know! We need to meet up to get out of here! Warn Earth and all its leaders about Brindle! Dickus: NO! We need to find them before they find us! Spikus: Stop it Dickus. Baldy: Yeah! So to warn the world, I understand! Dickus: No Baldy, you don’t understand, that’s the point. You don’t get it do ya? The farther Tucker and all thems lads come to try find you, the more Gardens they pass through, and the more Gardens they pass through; the more challenges they win and the more The Boghead has better information to manipulate human mind modules on Earth! They’re achievement is factored in! It’s all planned! You have to stop them! They’re committing themselves to their own human downfall!  Baldy: Wha? But sure- Dickus: Yis are workin’ against yourselves! The more you win the more you lose! And so far Brindle hasn’t copped on to what The Boghead is playing at. So I’ll use his ignorance as my advantage. Baldy: My friends are not losers! Ginger: Meeeooow! Reeoww! Baldy: Yeah, you tell ‘em Ginger! Dickus: But they are MUTANTS! They have developed mutations from the early compound we were planning to use for biochip implantation. Spikus: Dickus! Baldy: I don’t understand! Dickus: I know ya don’t! Your friends developed mutations from the vat of mutagen in the Ratchly chemical factory. Tucker’s more intelligent! Jagger slows time, Gabbler speeds it up, Arlee hears voices and Busher’s face is a map of the cosmos! Spikus: What are you doing Dickus!? Baldy: So… That’s why I’m pregnant! It was that jelly stuff at the factory! I got impregnanted with your poison. Spikus: Dickus! Dickus: No, that’s NOT it Baldy! Spikus: DICKUS! Baldy: What do you mean ‘not it’? Look at me sure! Dickus: What Spikus WHAT? Always breakin’ the flow y’are! Spikus: It’s the SLAGGERS! Ginger: Hfizzzzz! Dickus: Uh-oh, we got company. Run Baldy, run! Baldy: Ah no, look! Me, me water’s broke! It’s on the way! Dickus: I know! Sure it happened earlier when you were asleep! Now move, we have to get off this lowland, we’re too exposed! (FX of Silvic Liquid bursts) Dickus: NOW! 12 years on from 'first contact' gone wrong, Baldy Kendall has been snatched by the Soupalon race. Baldy’s neighbour Busher sees his own cat Ginger climb aboard the departing alien orb. Busher hates Baldy but loves Ginger. He will find her! This is a quest for Ginger the Cat. It will take Busher then Arlee, Tucker and Jagger out of their world and to the ‘Savage Garden’ of the Soupalon race. United Mutations is a 4-hour sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite Ulysses 31 but just as awesome.

The game is afoot, Dickus and Spikus escape the clutch of Maltus Brindle as our heroes traverse the Ureariver away from the Shlylerbols. (Wading through river as Shlylerbols laugh in distance)  Jagger: Ah me mickey… Arlee: Stand up ya fongin’ eegit Gabbler, sure it’s only waist high. Trust me ya fucker! Gabbler: Me hair! Jagger: Smell is stingin’... Tucker: Stinkin’ Busher: Stankin’! Gabbler: Stretchin’! Your Tank Top is stretchin’! Arlee: Ah the double-cross stitchin’ will take the pull Gabbler, it’ll hold. Head up! I have ya. Phew! Stauch of that... Was that you was it? Wade across her slow... Hold each other’s arms with the free hand. Busher: Get off me! Tucker: Busher, stop it! We have to do it togethaaah. Arlee: Gently, gently, don’t pull on her too hard... Tucker: Tank Top is goin’ Arlee. Arlee: Nearly there... Keep the head up Jagger... Don’t look at it. That’s it… Okay Gabbler... Keep chin up... Jagger: Ahhhh steamy sludge... Busher: Hang tough Jagger ya eejit... the coast is clearly there. I see it! Arlee: That’s it, nearly, nearly. One more- Gabbler: (Choking on water) Curse me stunted growth. Tucker: Grab the lip of it Busher! Arlee: (Rips) The Tank Top is gonna give lads, quick grab the edge! Jagger: (Chokes) Blubullblblb... Busher: PEAH! GOT IT! PHWIZZZ! Arlee: (Exhausted) Aw, aw- Gabbler: (Coughs) Thanks God.. Tucker: No... Thank the Tank Top. Arlee: Aw, finally… We made it. Aw, curse o’ the God on it. Jagger: Ah this is sick... I’m alive. (Cough) Me lungs... Hoooo. Arlee: Those flying fongers with the smoke and the whispers- Tucker: They nearly had us come to blows mate. Busher: PEAH! Bastards... What is this? This ledge is all rubbery. Gabbler: Where are we? Jagger: Me kidneys are like Mrs Bruno’s tits! Busher: Smell of this place... Like… Like boiled horse fat. Jagger: Why can’t I go? Arlee: Ya didn’t even let it off in the water when we were crossin’ over? I do that in the pool sure. What’s wrong with you Jagger? Jagger: Hah? Arlee: Nevermind... Tucker: Aw facksake, I’m never swimmin’ in Gagan’s again... Busher: What is this rubbery place? Pinky, blochy walls each side... all dark and walnutty in front... Gabbler: Little spikey trees pokin’ out along the walls too. What is it? (Deep ground rumble) Tucker: Uh-oh, that’s seismic lads... at least a 6.8. Busher: AHH! Me feet!! Stoppit! I’m rising up. Arlee: Look! The little trees on the walls are all pokin’ sameways. It’s weird. Tucker: Like they sense our presence. (The Scorgie cries – distant) Tucker: (Farts) Motha! Arlee: Seems like somethin’ else has just sensed us Tucker. Gabbler: Lads! The walls! Look! (The Scorgie cries – Louder) (Squelches). Busher: PEAH! What is that? Come out! Arlee: Straight ahead! Up over the mound beyond the two hills, it’s a face! Busher: I’m not afraid to say this, but I’m scared... MAMAAAY! (The Scorgie screams) Tucker: Fackin’ hell. Which eh, which way is best? Show me your face Busher. Arlee: Hang on... that looks like.- Gabbler: The walls are splittin’ up! T-there’s a tunnel in the middle! Tucker: That ain’t no tunnel Gabbler... (The Scorgie screams) (Squelch). Arlee: Eyooo, that’s a brutal whiff! Jagger: Wheeeezeee!! That’s the biggest pussy I’ve EVER seen! Tucker: Motha of God! It’s a bloody giant female! Jagger: Yeah, honest to God like… Busher: PEAH! That’s one of them yokes? Jagger: Yeah… Arlee: That’s her massive hole there Busher lookit! Have you never seen one before? Tucker: Size of her grizzly bits, and we’re stuck up between ‘em! Run! Gabbler: Where? Up her hairless ‘Goblin’s tube’? (The Scorgie Screams) Jagger: Wheeezeee! This is not good is it tho’? Aww I need to go!! Arlee: We all need to go... Tucker: ROCK! ROCK! (ROCK LANDS) Busher: Wha’th’fuck? Arlee: She’s peggin’ rocks! Take cover! Go for the inside leg. (Another rock lands) Busher: Bitch’s tryin’ to kill us! Gabbler: Pingin’ ‘em like pebbles. Eh, if anyone would like to use their mutation to our advantage, now is the time! (Another rock lands close) Tucker: We gotta move back and scale over the, the kneecap there... (Loud rumble) Busher: She’s pushin’ wider! Dirty fu- Jagger: This is like Valley of the Dolls! What’s goin’ on? Gabbler: What’s that noise? (Far away buzz) Arlee: It’s comin’ from inside her gearbox! (Scream of birth followed by louder buzz) Tucker: Oh fack… 12 years on from 'first contact' gone wrong, Baldy Kendall has been snatched by the Soupalon race. Baldy’s neighbour Busher sees his own cat Ginger climb aboard the departing alien orb. Busher hates Baldy but loves Ginger. He will find her! This is a quest for Ginger the Cat. It will take Busher then Arlee, Tucker and Jagger out of their world and to the ‘Savage Garden’ of the Soupalon race. United Mutations is a 4-hour sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite Ulysses 31 but just as awesome.

Baldy and Ginger flee into the Savage Garden. Meanwhile, aboard the incoming Shoupshuttle… Dickus: Alright mutants, hang on! Arlee: ‘ere, how long to the Savage Garden? Dickus: We’re pentetratin’ the lower atmosphere. Jagger: Heeezzze, it’s like sittin’ on a 200 watt amp, Gabbler: Fierce salty too... Dickus: Salty eh? Gabbler: I should know, I swallowed enough of Pat Moley’s. Mnammnam… Busher: I feel sick. Tucker: How in the name of Jonah will you land this thing? Spikus: Um? I don’t know! It’s all gone white, hurhurhur, it’s all gone white! Arlee: It’s a bit bumpy. Dickus: Right, they’ll have copped us coming in so we’re gonna have to take extreme measures’s! Arlee: Extreme? Whaddaya mean ‘extreme’? Busher: Peah! I don’t like the sound of this. Dickus: It’s the only way. Jagger: What are ya doin’ ‘Flares’? Arlee: Careful on the clutch there will ya? Dickus: Just remember, aim for the centre, that’s where Baldy is... Tucker: Dickus, what are you doing!? Dickus: Brace yourselves... Spikus: NO DICKUS NO! Gabbler: I-I-I don’t believe it! Dickus: Ejaculate! (Presses the Ejaculator) (Boyoyoyoyoingggg!) All: AHAAHHAHH! FUCCCK! MAMAAAAAAAY! (To fade) Spikus: Uhoh! Dickus! You ejected them! Dickus: That’s it Spikus! They’re gonna be planted in the garden. Spikus: Bu-but they’re gonna die! Why did you do that? WHY? Dickus: Spikus! We can’t land here with humans! They’d be subjumagated, and we couldn’t tell ‘em that, coz they wouldn’t want to know, and sure you can’t tell them what’s down THERE. Better to ejaculate with the ignorance still in ‘em, I say, Spikus: They’ll die! Dickus: No they won’t! Spikus: It’s wrong! Dickus: Lissen Spikus, the Savage Garden only disconnects you from your MIND! Not your body. It persuades you that you are insignificant and powerless and makes you believe it is right. It only annihilates your brain, not your balls! Spikus: Why throw them in? They can’t handle it Dickus! They got us back here and now you betray them, again! Dickus: Second time for everytin’ ay?! Ah but but, it’s not really. Them lads must find themselves, they must be disconnected by the Garden to feed their souls, to discover their true knowledge of who they are and their own infinite potential to manifest their own destiny and control! Spikus: Really Dickus? Dickus: No, meheheheh! But sounds good doesn’t it? Meheheh, right! Time to introduce ourselves to the latest fool The Boghead has in charge. Take her left Spikus... Spikus: Bastard! Dickus: That’s me! Ah here son, they’ll be alright Spikus, I know it. Now come on, I’m starvin’. (Shoupshuttle departs) (Outdoor Savage Garden perspective) (Creature sounds) (Falling from the sky above, approaching) All: AAAAHHHHHHHHH! (Backwards) (Impact thump) (All voices backwards) Jagger: Ah ah AHHH ME FUCKIN’ SACK! 12 years on from 'first contact' gone wrong, Baldy Kendall has been snatched by the Soupalon race. Baldy’s neighbour Busher sees his own cat Ginger climb aboard the departing alien orb. Busher hates Baldy but loves Ginger. He will find her! This is a quest for Ginger the Cat. It will take Busher then Arlee, Tucker and Jagger out of their world and to the ‘Savage Garden’ of the Soupalon race. United Mutations is a 4-hour sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite Ulysses 31 but just as awesome.

(Opening credits sequence) Gabbler: This is like being in a holograph. Busher: Phwizzz! Tucker: Come on Busher! Will you make space?! Dickus: Plenty of it around ya here... Spikus: We need to find out the co-ordinates otherwise we’re going nowhere Dickus, Dickus: Shhh Spikus, I know... We have to figure somethin’ out. Boghead knows how this is going to work. Spikus: And us with human cargo... Dickus: I know. Pure madness! Spikus: Do you really know what you are doin’? Dickus: No, not really... Busher: Ah, it’s quare n’ hot. Do you find it hot? Well you would, jaysis, with those boots and everything... Jagger: Hah, did you say somethin’ Ned? Arlee: Yeah it’s a bit hot... Jagger: Yeah, the shirt is stuck to me yeah? Tucker: Well take off your tops then if you’re all so hot! Arlee: You’re not even hot then? Busher: Sure all the heat is in his head... Jagger: Go on, take your top off Ned... you started it. Wheeeze! Busher: You first, Tucker: Why the fack does somebody have to be first? If you’re hot, take off your top! Dickus: What are they shoutin’ about back there Spikus? Spikus: I dunno. Dickus: I’ll check it out. Keep her steady till we hit the Van Halen’ses for the swing round and then... well.. then somethin’. Jagger: Go on Ned, take it off. Look, sure I’ll stand here with no shirt on, look! (Riiiip!) See! I’m not scared. Gabbler: He’s ripped the Sabbath t-shirt straight off him! That’s great Jagger! (clap clap) You next Busher! Busher: Peah! What’s wrong with yis? Arlee: Are ya shy Busher? Is that it? Jagger: Hah?- Busher: I’m not fuckin’ shy! Tucker: No waaay, Busher is shy! Take off the v-neck Busher! And the shirt! Gabbler: Take the whole lot off! OFF! OFF! OFF! All: OFF! OFF!! OFF!! Busher: Leave me alone! Tucker: Only gettin’ hotter Busher! You may do it. Busher: I said LEAVE ME ALONE! WANT A BOX IN THE FACE? Tucker: Holy fack! Arlee: Look at HIS face! Jagger: Wheeeezzzzeeee! It’s come alive! Gabbler: What is it? Show me! Busher: What are yis lookin’ at? Stop lookin’ at me! Arlee: Busher... Tucker: Busher, the moles on your face have started moving around! Jagger: Hah?- Arlee: Oh my god... Busher: Leave my moles alone! So what if I have loads... Tucker: But they’ve gone all Pixar on yer face. Oiiright! Dickus: What are yis shoutin’ about back here? Arlee: Busher’s face has exploded to life! Tucker: They’re making little concentrical revolutions and- Dickus: Never like gettin’ this close to a human... but... Busher: Get away from me! Dickus: Stand still ya eegit. Well would you look at that... I’ve never seen this before. Jagger: Heeee. Busher’s a freak. Arlee: Sure we knew that. Tucker: ...they look like they’re moving on an ELIPTICAL PLANE! No WAAAY! Busher: Stoppit! Gabbler: Tell us Tucker! Tucker: If I am correct, each of the moles on Busher’s face could correspond to… yeah, yeah, planets in our solar system! See? All of them buzzin’ around their orbits and if that big freckle is the sun, then… okay look, there’s Earth, Mars... Jupiter... Dickus: Is this normal in your species? We missed this bit in prep. Arlee: Ahhhh... (voices) me head... Dickus: And what is WRONG with you? In fact, what is wrong with all of yis??? Jagger: Hah? Dickus: You, the Jagger, you mumble and hear nothing half the time, you hear things you’re not supposed to, you, Gabbler, speak so fast, you confuse all humans, and this lad’s face has ejaculated spots. As for you Tucker, you were never near this intelligent the last time we met in the Chemical Factory... I'm bemused by this. Tucker: Oiiiright! I have it! Look! There’s an extra green mole on his face not accounted for in our planetary system, and that’s with all the moons! Look at the elliptical; its orbit takes it in around the back of our moon! It HAS to be the SAVAGE GARDEN! Dickus: HAH? What? Busher: I used to be beautiful. What happened to me MAMMAY?! Dickus: You mean, his face is a map to the Savage Garden? That’s fortunate! Arlee: Why? Did yis not have a map already? Dickus: Eh.. not exactly, like eh, the auld GPS is actin’ up... we woulda had it back in no time like, but this is an excellent back up! Well done! PAt on the back there lads! Busher: And when were you going to tell us that hah? Dickus: It’s not important now. What’s important is you start givin’ me some answers here Moleface. We’ll start with you Jagger... Jagger: Hah? Dickus: See? What is this? He can’t hear me! You heard me? Why not him? Jagger: What’s he talking about lads? Heheee... you make no sense. Arlee: I have no idea. Dickus: JAGGER! Jagger: Hah? Dickus: HELLO?? Jagger: Stop shoutin’ at me! Dickus: JAGGER!!! See? No answer again! Tucker: He’s on some auditory bi-cycle... Dickus: JAGGER!!! YOU FOOL!!! I’ll BAYTE YA!!! Jagger: AH!! Stop it! Dickus: Hello? Jagger: Stop that shoutin’! Ahhh! Dickus: Look! He’s gettin’ angry, he’s geeeeettttttiiiiinnnnn’ Gabbler: AHHHHhhhhhhhhcchchchchch... (SLOW DOWN). Dickus: Now-time-is-slow... you Gabbler, take-this! (smaaackkk) Gabbler: AHH! AHHAHA! (Speed up) Busher: (Speeding up) Are we warpin’ or what the fuck? PEAH! Tucker: This is mental! (FAST). Dickus: OK OK OK OK, CALM DOWN CALM DOWN GABBLER... (SLOWS)...AHA! It’s as I expected! Get Jagger angry; he slows time, get the Gabbler angry; he speeds up time! Arlee: That’s insane! I-I-I ... I can’t get me head around that! Dickus: You, you with the nose... Arlee: Name’s Arlee Davidson, Ratchly’s greatest DJ. Dickus: Describe the sounds in your head. Arlee: I can’t... Tucker: Go on Arlee... tell him... Dickus: Tell me! Arlee: But it’s just, they’re nonsense! Just loud garbled sounds, I can’t make head nor fuckin' tail of them. Dickus: Just say it best you can. Arlee: Okay... (Backwards) “Second Egg, Second Egg, Savage Second Egg, follow the map of moles to the reach the Second Egg”. Y'see? Jagger: That sounds backwards like when me cassettes get fucked up in the tape machine. Dickus: It means somethin’, it must do. So, you; slowing time, you; speeding time, you; mad sounds. Tucker has over-intelligence and Busher with the moving mole-mountains. What have we got here eh? Some sort of “United Mutations” or what? MEHEHEHEH! Gabbler: United Mutations? Wow. Tucker: I-I-I ... I never thought like this before, like I never really used my brain at all. Now I can handle the pressa! Oooiight! I am a human Exabyte! Able to think it all out! It must have been when... Dickus: Yes? Tucker: When... Dickus: Yes? it was somethin’ alright. Busher: Are you saying we’re freaks? Arlee: Shut up Busher will ya? Jagger: What is it Tucks, are, are we mad? Tucker: ... wait... it must have been when, during the fight out at the factory with your lads Dickus. Lilo McGregor fell into the Vat of Mutagen and that gunge splashed everywhere! Jagger: Ah wheeeezzzeee! Yeah, I nearly fell in but thanks to the belt on me flares saved me. We all got covered in that jelly. Arlee: Fongin’ Fortycoats! Ever since that day, Lilo McGregor disappeared from my head and this new sound built slowly up in my head over twelve fuckim' years... more and more... Harder faster longer louder and in bloody reverse too! Gabbler: That’s why Pat Moley broke up with me... After that time he never wanted to see me again. I was so alone. That’s why I got into conspiracy theories, and reporting the Soupalon invasion. Which was REAL! And I was RIGHT. And FUCK You!! Busher: Peah... I always had moles and I was nowhere near the factory twelve year ago, but but... PEAH! Somehow with Baldy next door and Laura... I must have picked it up from Laura... Aw no... Arlee: How Busher, how’d you do that? How’d you get this pox like us? Busher: … I don’t know. Eh… Well, I suppose… I-I-I used to steal her used toothbrushes an’ n’ n’ other things right, from their rubbish bin... I had me a horde under the bed and I may have put one or two in me mouth... once or twice like... Tucker: WOT? They may have shared a toothbrush Busher! ... Did you ever think of that? Busher: AH Gross! WHA? PEAH! AHRGH! SPIT IT OUT! Baldy in me mouth! No! NO! Jagger: What did he just say? Arlee: He may have gone other places too with the toothbrush I reckon hehheheh. Busher: MAMAAAY! Tucker: That’s how Baldy became pregnant! Of course! Makes logical sense now! He got jellied like the rest of us. Fack! Dickus: The Vat of Mutagen. The factory foreman Gerry Freely set it up for us... that was for the... ah... actually I don’t really know... but I’m sure it was... eh... for the good of Earth Society! Busher: PEAH! MMMNNLLLMMMLLL. LIAR! Tucker: What was that green jelly for Dickus? Dickus: That’s not important now, what is, is you lads have been infected with a MUTAGEN! You are all MUTANTS! Skilled up and all powerful! Jagger: I slow down time! Heeheheheeeee!!! Good for workin’ out the riffs in songs! Don’t need to go to Waltons anymore... Arlee: Why did you get a good one? I got schizophrenia! Tucker: Oh no... Gabbler: What Tucks? What is it now? Are ya alright? Tucker: NO! I’ve realised that I don’t know how to control my superior intelligence! Oh Look! Rigel... It’s a bright one... on the scale of magnitudes it’s in the negative numbers which means it’s very bright and numbers on the opposite end up are very faint. So Sirius has an MV of -1.42, our Moon -12.5 and the Sun is -26.5! Oiiright Rigel! -1.36! Gabbler: Yeah yeah and Brussel Sprouts are like pubic hair Arlee: Aha good one Gabbler- Jagger: What was the joke lads? Dickus: So we have the United Mutations heh? And Spikus, we have a map! Busher, get your face into the cockpit till we get to the Savage Garden! This is going to tear the skin off your eyeballs... 12 years on from 'first contact' gone wrong, Baldy Kendall has been snatched by the Soupalon race. Baldy’s neighbour Busher sees his own cat Ginger climb aboard the departing alien orb. Busher hates Baldy but loves Ginger. He will find her! This is a quest for Ginger the Cat. It will take Busher then Arlee, Tucker and Jagger out of their world and to the ‘Savage Garden’ of the Soupalon race. United Mutations is a 4-hour sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite Ulysses 31 but just as awesome.

Baldy: Urghgh. Get off me yis bastards! Ginger: Meeowwww... Brindle: Ah, the pregnant one called 'Baldy'... Please, sit down, oh, but you probably can’t. Baldy: Evil twisted burglarising festered ignorant- Brindle: Yes Mr Destiny, I’m glad you accepted my invitation after your treatment. I have prepared a nice presentation for you. Tonus: I bow in such presence of greatness. Touch it gently... touch it gently... Touch it, touch it. It’s all ready for you Overlorder. Mnnng. Brindle: Ah... yes... one moment.... It... I set it up earlier... and now, mmm… it doesn’t seem to work... Tonus? Baldy: Doesn’t work does it? Ah, that’s a pity...  Tonus: She may have a virus. Brindle: You are the one with the virus... Baldy: If it’s alright with youse I’d like to lie down and hope to die soon. back in the cell if you don’t mind. Ginger: Meooow. Brindle: Ah ha! Now, where was I? Baldy: Talkin’ shite as usual. Brindle: And yet you seem to understand it quite easily don’t you Human. Tonus: AH! Sickened! Sickened! Gotcha on that one, gotcha on that one he did HENDRIX! Brindle: Here on the Savage Garden, we aim to- Baldy: Boring. Brindle: Uhuh- here on the Savage Garden- Baldy: Fuck you Tracksuit. Fuck you I won’t do what you tell me... Brindle: Would you like more treatment? Baldy: No. But that’s not the point. Brindle: Baldy you make no sense as usual. Allow me to present our most wondrous of experiments and blow your tiny docile mind. Baldy: No I won’t. Brindle: Won’t what? Baldy: Allow you. I’ll just sit here and look at the wall if you want sure, makes no odds to me. Ginger: Meeoow. Brindle: Well then I’ll just present it with your passive participation. Baldy: (flicks lighter) Why did you kill my daddy? Brindle: Mmm Baldy, another pathetic interruption? Baldy: Go on, answer the question, why did you kill my Daddy, what did he have to do with anything? Brindle: He had served his purpose. Baldy: Sure what purpose did he have? Brindle: We’re on a strict timetable here Baldy, your questions will have to be ignored. Baldy: Why’d yis kill Tom Kendall? Brindle: Because he was in the way of you delivering your destiny’s child! Baldy: Why tho’? Brindle: LIE DOWEN!  Baldy: I won’t! Brindle: Tonus! Restraint the fool and I shall continue my presentation. Tonus: Shuttup uglylad! (Testie Tazer). Baldy: Ahhhh! Ginger: PHSST!!! Brindle: This! ...is the Savage Garden; where Soupalon will reverse engineer the modules of the human mind, breaking down the thought processes to base intuitive mechanics. There are 16 mind modules and eight gardens. In each garden two modules shall be tested. We shall combine these base instincts with Soupalon ones to improve the human through magnetic resonance and brainwave stimulants... Baldy: Y-y-yis are playing GOD. Brindle: Yes, you believe in a God don’t you Baldy? Now all you need is to believe in us and this time we will actually deliver. Baldy: We decide on our own, thanks. Brindle: Soupalon will improve you. Baldy: We don’t need improving. We don’t need none of yers, (lighter flick) education. Brindle: Then you are, as is obvious, wilfully regressive and actively ignorant. Baldy: If we’re ignorant, we’ll sort it out amongst ourselves. Brindle: No, there’s been too much time for that and nothing has changed. Once our Savage Garden core data is amassed, then biochip implantationing-ing shall begin on Earth. Your planet is witness to carrying out a large scale mental and physical experiment, Baldy, and you are its key, and the secret to its success. Baldy: I’m no-ones key. I am me! Y’s’ll never genetically modify us all! Brindle: Start with the beans and move forward! Maybe we will mutate humans into physical representations of you Baldy; right down to your painfully binary mind. Tonus: Heargh! GRAB IT GRAB IT! GRAB IT! Ngggg… A Nation of Uglylads! United under one big tooth!  Brindle: Soupalon shall control the population- Tonus: LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR! LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR! LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR! LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR! Release the lethal VIRUS! Baldy: Y’s’ll never do it! Humans will fight! Resist! No bags of chips for us! Brindle: Those who refuse will be outcast, untouchable by benefit, care, money, housing, work or of any relevant status. Zero-people vs the Forever People, which one you think they will chose Baldy? Baldy: They choose life! They choose freedom! Brindle: Your child may disagree, Baldy. Baldy: You leave my baby alone! Brindle: Sean the Degus! Sean: Yes Overlord? Brindle: Request attendance of the Savagery Pedup Bauer... Sean: Yes Overlord, expongulating Savagery Pedup Bauer- Pedup: “Pedup Bauer, Pedup Bauer, Akkkshshsh...” Sean: Pedup Bauer, Overlord Brindle requests attendance in the Orb. Pedup: “Fuck Yis… I’m seein’ doublery… Pedup Bauer… Pedup Bauer, Pedup Bauer, Akkkshshsh.” Tonus: HENDRIX! (Mimics Purple Haze). Narrator: Who can stop these Soupalon plans of Earth domination? We return to find Busher and company going cross country… Arlee: Ah now but if you tie her in a clinch knot then th’chandler’ll never fall off till she’s in the craw of the rainbow. Busher: Peah, what IS he sayin’ and what the fuck are you wearin’? Did you kill all the animals for that coat yourself? Jagger: Hah?- Arlee: D’ya fish Busher? Busher: Hah? Only when I go to Dolly the chipperses for the €2.50 Cod & chips. Tucker: I know it’s this way lads, follow me. Arlee: Best fishin’ around lads is best done over that hill there I’d come down with the daddy in the jumper the mammy made me. So we’d skin her in over the fence when the fly was low an’ lure the lads with the spinners.                  Busher: Whatever, I’m not listenin’ to ya. Where are we goin’? It’s startin’ to rain now sure. Are we supposed to be in the Ballygannorn woods... Arlee: Usually tho’ in the high season, we’d use the bobbers to get the strikes... Jagger: Can I stop and drain the flute? I’m burstin’. Tucker: Save it Jagger. Busher: Are we there yet? Arlee: Had to be careful though, ya had to jigger it all the time and watch out for the aul’ trout fallin’ off. Jagger: Will me trout fall off if I don’t have a piss Arlee yeah? Ah no... Arlee: What? No, the jiggerin’ Jagger, jiggerin’! Ya gotta jigger the fishin’ line! Jagger: Tell me! Is it goin’ to fall off or what? Busher: Peah, yeah, sure the bone in your mickey starts meltin’ due to the build up of pissy acid. Tucker: Heheh. Correct trajectory is up this gradient, boys. Jagger: Whatcha say? Busher: Ah, just come on. Here Tucker, it’s gettin’ quare’n dark. Arlee: Good time for the trout, Jagger: I can’t see. It is fierce dark lads, hiheee. (Rustle in the bushes) Tucker: Shhh! Pipe down boys. We got company. Busher: Bastards... Jagger: Oww owww mmmnngg- Arlee: Stop the jumpin’ Jagger. Tucker: It’s over there... See the shadows, look... Busher: Is it them? Peah! Action! Tucker: Dunno. Ooh, ooiright, it’s coming this way. Shhh... get on yer honkers lads n’ we’ll lep on it when it passes. Jagger: I’m on for that, yeah, I’ll do that. Busher: Peah, action... finally, doin’ nathin’ like gobshites. Arlee: Reel ‘im in lads, reel in the fongin’ aliens... Tucker: One... two, th- Busher: NOW! Tucker: Aw fuck it! Busher: ARghgh! GOTCHA! Jagger: Hah? What?? Settle!!! Settle! Arlee: Ahh ahh! Diggin’ the talons into me!! Dirty f- Gabbler: AHHHH! TAKE ME YIS OUTERWORLDERS!!! ARGH! Busher: Mammy! fecker! Patrick! I recognise that voice! Arlee: Stop with the nails. Tucker: It’s the feckin’ Gabbler lads! Gabbler: Eh-huh? What? Jaysis, it’s youse lads! Busher! Jagger! Wow I-I-thought I was a gooner there lads, taken up to the ship and subjected to probe after probe where they suspend your foreskin on hooks an’ all! Busher: Gabbler, what are you doin’ here? Gabbler: I’d ask youse the same. It’s two minutes to midnight. Tucker: We’re here to find Dickus Soupus. Jagger: Hah? Tucker: Dickus Soupus, Jagger. Gabbler: The Soupalon? He’s come back to Earth? Tucker: He’s never left it mate. Jagger: Yeah, Tucker thinks he’s our way to what Busher told us. Gabbler: About Baldy and Laura, yeah, Busher: And Ginger, peah!!! Gabbler: I can’t believe it! I knew there was a scoop! I smelt it... Tucker: Yeah, but how the fuck do you know anythin’ at all Gabbler? Gabbler: Sure I’m a journalist aren’t I? Busher: Shyeah- Tucker: No, I mean, how the fack did you know about us in the first place? Jagger: (To himself) – ♫ Lord of this world, Evil possessor, Lord of this world, He's your confessor nowwww... ♫ Arlee: You weren’t at the Chemical Factory Gabbler. Gabbler: I was. Tucker: Never saw ya. Busher: You know too much Gabbler. Go on, spit it out. Gabbler: Eh? Arlee: Go on, go on! How’d you know it all? Gabbler: Alright, alright, I was there, but I didn’t see anything. I was locked in the back of Gerry Freely’s car... Tucker: You wot? I was drivin’ that car! I took Gerry’s keys from the locker in the chemical plant and drove to get Lilo McGrega’s motha, try have ‘er stop his self-mutated hybrid monster from killing everyone! Arlee: That Gerry was one turncoat bastard! He was one of the first to join them aliens to make money for the chemical plant. I knew he was a bad egg. Tucker: A propa cunt.  12 years on from 'first contact' gone wrong, Baldy Kendall has been snatched by the Soupalon race. Baldy’s neighbour Busher sees his own cat Ginger climb aboard the departing alien orb. Busher hates Baldy but loves Ginger. He will find her! This is a quest for Ginger the Cat. It will take Busher then Arlee, Tucker and Jagger out of their world and to the ‘Savage Garden’ of the Soupalon race. United Mutations is a 4-hour sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite Ulysses 31 but just as awesome.

As Baldy and Ginger look trapped upon the Savage Garden, we return to Earth and to Tucker and Arlee at 4 Hollyberry Terrace (in Ratchly)… Tucker: It’s the jerk! The jerk! It’s in the angular jerk! I fackin’ knew it too. Ah, Newton, you took your bloody time. I’d’ve got that even before me mid-mornin’ crap! (Makes tea, switches on 'The Sweeney' on tv) Arlee: Ahhh Uggggn! (Backwards) “second egg, second egg, savage second egg, follow the map of moles to the reach the second egg”... (More backwards voices)... Ah new sounds Tucker! I’ve got a new entry straight in at number two! Tucker: Wha? Look! The angular jerk Arlee! Based on my huge astronomical projection, the acceleration, or rate of change of velocity, is derived from the velocity in respect to time. That gives us the hyperbola! Yeah, of course! Acceleration can arise from a change with time of the magnitude of the velocity or of the direction of the velocity, or both! But usin’ the parallax only the magnitude, v, of the velocity decreases, but generally any change in the velocity with time, stickin’ the ‘jerk’ in, including deceleration, takes us straight to feckin’ SOUPALON! Arlee: (Voices in his head) Aghghgh! I’m doin’ me nut, why is it gettin’ louder? Tucker: If I stuck a VU metre on ya Arlee would it register 90 decibel? Arlee: How the fuck should I know? Tucker: I should put a DBF in your earhole! Then you’d know! Ooiright! I’m full of the beans tonight! Arlee: Big bald bean in a polo neck... (Doorbell rings) Jagger: (Outside) Hihihih! Howayis! It’s Jagger… Open sez me! Heeeeargh. Tucker: ♫ There’s somebody at the door! There’s somebody at the door!! There’s somebody at the door! ♫ (Unlock) Hello Jagga! Jagger: Wheeeeze! What’s goin’ on? Are youse stoned? Here, I brought Ned Busher with me, he’s got some mad shit to tell us! But watch out, he sometimes tries to mouth the words but say nathin’! Busher: Retard… Howaya Tucker. Tucker: Oooiright! More the merrier! Come in the merrymen! Arlee, pipe your sounds down, we got company. Arlee: It’s not fongin’ RTE Radio yunno! I can’t just switch the shite off! Busher: Peah, am I trippin’? What are yis all jumpin’ around for? Crazy jumpers! Polo necks and tank tops! I’m in the 70’s… Phwizzz! Maybe this was all a big stupid mistake, a trick of me mind, Mammy said there’d be days like this after all the hash. Tucker: What ya havin’ to drink Busher? Busher: Wha? Oh, eh, cola please. But lissen to ME! Tucker: Ice? Busher: Yeah whatever, b-b-but NO! NEVER! ROBBER! LIARS! MAMMAY! Settle down yis pack of woolly hippies, they’ve taken Ginger! PHWIZZZ! GONE TO THE SKIES! Tucker: You wot? Shut it Arlee, put a pillow on it! Arlee: (Pillow muffled) HEY! Is that the queerhawk Busher? Busher: Pyeah, what did that ‘Tank Top’ just say Jagger? Jagger: Wha? Tucker: Why are you here Jagga? I haven’t seen you in years mate, you’re lookin’ rough... Are you takin’ care of yourself? Jagger: I’m alright Tucks, I’m fine... You have to listen what Ned has to say... Go ahead Ned, we’re listenin’... Busher: Right... I was in me house earlier today when I was, eh, watchin’ Laura next door... Jagger: Ah here if you’re going to say nothing then I’ll tell them... Tucker: ‘Ay? What you doin’ Jagga? Busher: Mmng’ burst ya bastard!. Jagger: He’s afraid to say it and then he wants to burst me? Go on Ned take your best shot! I’ll take ya, put Jagger on the map. Tucker: Oi! Less of it! Calm the fack down and spill the beans lads! We’ve got some news to share too... Busher: MAMMAY! Jagger: Alright, listen, Busher was at home wipin’ the soapy flog in the bathroom lookin’ through a pipe at Laura next door havin’ a shower... hihihiihihih (Flashback) Busher: Oh Laura, phwizz! Why d’ya choose him? He can’t even satisfy ya! Not like I could anyway… Ginger: Meeow (jumps, scuttles away). Busher  Don’t you go next door to that bastard! I know they’re feedin’ ya, turnin’ ya against me! Ginger! Ginger! Come back here! (Alarm sounds) Busher: Hah? Laura’s back already? It’s not even lunchtime. Quick Busher, bathroom! Hope she keeps the routine now. (In Bathroom) Right, peah, what to choose today; rackflap or boxflap? Phwizzz! Both! Where’s the Boys2Men CD? (Shower curtain rail flings open. Shower FX). Oh, ooh, there you are... oh lovely Laura... Ooh you make me sick, you’re so beautiful (/flashback). Jagger: Ah Ned, you are sick... Busher: Shuttup right... what’s it got t’do witcha? Jagger: See? Lost for words he is! Anyway, next thing he sez he saw Baldy, n’ Laura being- Busher: An’ my GINGER being kidnapped out the window by some hovering orb! A spaceship! Jagger: Now he speaks… Tucker: A wot? Arlee: Did you say spaceship? And Baldy? We saw a spaceship streak cross the sky through Tuckers massive Tesco telescope! Tucker: And it’s goin’ to Soupalon! I worked it out. Jagger: Yeah, Baldy and Laura, must be goin’ to Soupalon, you’re right! Busher: Pyeah! The Gabbler was right for a change, youse DID fight the aliens and now they’re back! FUCKSAKE! What am I gonna do? Tucker: Thank god you’re a pervert Ned, otherwise we may never have known. Jagger: That’s it! But we always knew Ned’s a pervert... Busher: Fuck off! Arlee: Lookin’ down the pipe eh? How much did you do that? Every day? Was it good was it? Did ya, did ya see much? Did you tape it? Busher: None of your business phwizzzz! Arlee: It is now tho’! I’ll buy ‘em off ya. Jagger: Calm down Ned. Tucker: You never believed us Busher, you, like the rest of them, you never understood... Busher: Sure how could anyone believe that bullet-belted eejit with the big tooth? He’s off with the revolting stories and Laura’s leathery bits! Tucker: Sit down Busher... Arlee: Mind me DJ bag. Busher: Peah! Youse are always sittin’ me down for the next bit in the story! Tell me standin’ up for a change will ya! Tucker: This may come as a big shock Ned... Jagger: Do you want me to tell him Tucks? Tucker: What do you think I’m doin’? Arlee: Hold yer fire Jagger, Tucker’ll say it... Busher: Hah? Say what? This is worse than the X-Factor. Tucker: Baldy formed the resistance for a reason. Arlee: Coz he was the first who saw the aliens, he was the first to be suspicious. Jagger: And do you want to know why he was the first to notice? Busher: Wrong place, wrong time n’ fell into it, knowin’ that gobshite! Tucker: No mate, he was chosen... Baldy was meant to be revolting. He was meant to find the hermit Bop hiding in the Ballygannorn Woods- Jagger: Ah Bop, yeah, he was fierce funny... like that fella in, eh, yunno the film with the Star Wars lads in it? The one in space... with Han Solo n’ all... Arlee: Star Wars? Jagger: Hah? Tucker: Bop was a Soupalon put here to seek information on Earth and Ratchly was selected. Jagger: The legend of the seekers... Busher: Yeah, yeah I know all this, Gabbler already told me, but I want to know what we are going to do about it. Tucker: Busha, you ever heard of ‘Eugenics’? Busher: Who’s he? Arlee: No ya fool, Eugenics is the controlling of human reproduction in order to reduce the number of those that society see as inferior... Jagger: Yeah, to create a ‘master race’ with the best genetic characteristics... Huargh! Sick fucks. Busher: But what does this have to do with Baldy Kendall? Tucker: Baldy Kendall, my dear Busher, brought the Soupalon invasion to its knees in the battle with Holtus at the Ratchly Chemical Factory. It was only natural that he be chosen, as the most revolting human, to initiate their Eugenics project here on Earth... He was perfect... Busher: Perfect for what? You’re talkin’ shite! Sure how is that possible? He’s fuckin’ stupid! Arlee: No, he’s the one alright... Chosen to replace the doomed ‘Insemination’ project of ‘99. He’s the key to it all. They knew there would be a specimen to put up the strongest fight, and love him or hate him; it was Baldy. Busher: But it’s been 12 years! Nothing has happened, why now sure? Why kidnap Baldy if he’s workin’ for them? Unless he’s a fuckin’ spy for them bastards and it was all a big show to take Laura and my GINGER! Why do they want my Ginger? Jagger: Ah Ned, he’s not a spy, he’s not workin’ for them. Tucker: Baldy’s the key to the end of the world. And he only knew about it recently. But it was a long time coming mate, they’ve planned it all. Busher: What ya sayin’? Why recently, why long? An’ who put that loser in charge of the planet? I thought that was only for the black lads. What do yis mean? Speak English will ya! Tucker: He’s the first one Busher! Baldy is the first one in the Eugenics project, don’t you get it? The Alpha... The seed... The numero uno! Jagger: Come on Ned, cop on... Busher: Yis are talkin’ riddles! If you’re sayin’ them aliens are controlling human reproduction with the strongest seed, sure how could they start that with Baldy? He couldn’t even get his hole with his girlfriend and I know for a FACT he’s never been at Laura, his ‘so-called’ wife! How can he ‘reproduct’? FACT! AND he’s as thick as two short planks! FACT! Sure looka, if he’s not workin’ for them then the only way that Baldy could even start to spawn some super-intelligent race of aliens for them, was if he was... was... if he was, uuuh PYEAH! I feel sick… Jagger: That’s it Ned, hihihih, the penny’s dropped. Wheeeze! Busher: You... are-fuckin’-jokin’ me… Arlee: It’s true... Busher: Seriously, all messin’ aside, peah, look me straight in the eyes and tell me that- Arlee: Yep, Busher: No! Tucker: Yep... Baldy is PREGNANT. Busher: Peah! Youse are some twisted fucks! That makes no sense! Arlee: That shook ya... hah? Jagger: He’s the daddy alright Ned.  Busher: Did somebody spike my cola? Baldy’s pregnant, we’re all going to die. Tucker: These are the FACTS Busher, only the FACTS. FACT; Baldy’s pregnant… It’s him, the pipefish and the Seahorse now as nature’s male mothas. God knows if he will ever pop one out of him and how he does it is beyond me, but FACT; They’ve kidnapped him now and it’s something to do with the pregnancy. FACT; A pregnant human male will be quite useful for them Soupalons to try engineer another invasion and FACT; Whatever it is, it’s gonna start soon and we gotta stop it. Jagger: No lyin’, that’s the truth, wanna spark up? Arlee: Go on then Jagger... I’m on for it. Busher: Peah! And why are you wearin’ a stripy tank top? It’s annoyin’ me. So last decade! Arlee: Better than your blue v-neck jumper anyway Busher. Busher: This is too much… I need to sit down... 12 years on from 'first contact' gone wrong in a small village in east Ireland named 'Ratchly', Baldy Kendall has been snatched by the Soupalon race. Baldy’s neighbour Busher sees his own cat Ginger climb aboard the departing alien orb. Busher hates Baldy but loves Ginger. He will find her! This is a quest for Ginger the Cat. It will take Busher then Arlee, Tucker and Jagger out of their world and to the ‘Savage Garden’ of the Soupalon race. United Mutations is a 4-hour sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite Ulysses 31 but just as awesome.

Brindle: There… is your answer, a brief stop off on our way back to your impending sacrifice to the Soupalon High Council. They will marvel and be not a little taken aback at how you pathetically embody human resistance to our world. And as for you pointing out my predecessors; Holtus was a vain creature. And Dickus? Well the absconding Dickus will soon be joining you, as soon as we take a moment here on the 'Savage Garden'. Baldy: 'Savage Garden' eh? Yis’ll be under the fertile earth by sundown, ya sneery bastard. Brindle: Such sharp ignorance you let slip through your yellow teeth. Here we are now. You will get to see our more experimental designs upon ‘your’ planet... Baldy: Get yer paws off me ya tool! (Door hatch opens). Brindle: Ah Tonus… Tonus: HENDRIX! Mmmnnng… Grab it grab it. WOOO! Baldy: What’s wrong witcha ya Soupalon freak? Brindle: Tonus! Behave. Tonus: Grab it grab it! Brindle: He was never fully perverted to your planet’s form of speech patterns- Baldy: Not like you then eh? Say your voice’d be a hit with our women, just like Holtus was with my ex-girlfriend, Hazel. Then you’d get the crusty lizard out and some creamy flanger would fry yis alive! Tonus: Arghgghhghhgh!!!! Grab the groin, grab the groin! Overlord Brindle, you have brought HIM! The LAD! The MAN!! His LAD! HENDRIX! He who shall lead us into the illumination! He is the one! Of all places, HENDRIX! GRAB IT! GRAB IT! To the Savage Garden, with me, Tonus! GO FOR THE WICK IN IT! FOR THE WICK IN IT! Wooo! Baldy: Hah? Brindle: Tonus, explain yourself. Ginger the Cat: Reeeor… Tonus: OOOOW! And the little furry monshtar! Haha! The little furry monshtar with the four legs. Look at him. Oooh lovely. GRAB IT GRAB IT GRAB IT! Allow me to show you Overlord... MNNNNGGG! FOR THE WICK IN IT! Ah, here, ah here, ah here, ah here, no... in a minute... in a minute, there in a minute... I’m puttin’ the make-up on... right here, yeah, ok now you can look! LOOKA! Looka! Look will ya?! Brindle: Tonus, please stop rubbing and pushing... it’s most unwelcome.  Tonus: Ooooh… Ooh, oooh, oooh, ohh, oooh… Baldy: He’s going to shoot the load n’ kill us all. Ginger the Cat: Rerrowww! Tonus: HERE! Look here! Look here! Behold, three two one... mmmnnng,  the ‘Yellow Tooth CODE’! The Yellow Tooth Code! Seeee? Touch-dowen! Baldy: A scrawny picture of some lad with some squiggly writing. Brindle: It’s our most ancient text, Baldy. Tonus: And HE is in IT! THERE! With the furry monshtar beside him looka lovely, furry monshtar, the RED BEAST, here! Look, the starchild to the right! It’s him Overlord, HIM! HENDRIX! Baldy: He’s not right in the head that lad, is he? Brindle: Sickness had marked him for one of its own. Tonus, put back that no doubt valuable copy of the ‘Yellow Tooth Code’ and stop with this nonsense. I can credit this human as being the most revolting in history but attributing him the status of the Leader of the Illumination is going far beyond stupification... Tonus: But look at the big Yellow Tooth! No other in the cosmos like it! GRAB IT GRAB IT GRAB IT! GO FOR THE WICK IN IT! GO FOR THE WICK IN IT! Guinness please... Baldy: What’s wrong with me tooth? Brindle: LIE DOWEN Tonus, LIE DOWEN before I PUT YOU DOWEN! Tonus: (Screams and runs away...) HE is HERE, HE is HERE! Woooo! Brindle: Sorry Baldy... Baldy: Fuck off. Narrator: Meanwhile, in the Ballygannorn Woods… Dickus: Catch it Spikus, catch it!               Spikus: It’s too fast! Dickus: Shuttup Spikus will ya, I have to set it! I can’t set it if you don’t catch it! She’s the bait! (Cat screeches) Spikus: I’m cold Dickus: Grow more hair then! Spikus: I’m hungry- Dickus: Will you leave me alone ya beggar! I’m tryin’ to get us lunch. It’s not easy with you there hopin’ around grabbin’ your groin. Come on fuss fuss... come on... AHHH! Gotcha! (Cat snared). Spikus: I don’t like this food. Dickus: That’s coz you eat your beard at the same time. Here we are. (Strangles cat). Spikus: Diiiickus... Dickus: Comes out same way as it goes in dunnit? Dog, cat, bird, rat, it’s all energy to keep you goin’ an’ not cakkin’ on like some old craw. Save it! Stoke up the fire, goo’lad, I’ll skin the dinner. Spikus: Diiiickus... Dickus: Spikus! If Bop could hide out in these Ballygannorn woods forever, then we can survive long enough to get what we need to get the fuck out of here! Spikus: Those words are, hhhh, bad. Dickus: I know. That’s why I like ‘em. Them words and the old trouserses are great, but that’s about it for this wretched place. Imagine them humans wanting all the time to believe in another outer-world sentient life-form? Did it ever cross there pathetic little minds that we wouldn’t want to go near these ungrateful bastards in the first place?!  Spikus: Unless we’re sent or get lost... Dickus: Spikus, we’ll be out of here soon ok. Flush the negativity! Spikus: Then what? Face death for dissertion from the Soupalon High Council? Dickus: I said leave it to me will ya. Go get sticks. We need more fire. Far t’much greasy air in this place. And here, try not to stab yourself again. Spikus: We’re going to die, either here from the rotten food, rotten atmosphere, h-h-h-h, or from the hand of whomever The Boghead sends to get us. We’re going to die like Bop, ripped apart by a big hybrid mutant- Dickus: Doom doom doom! That’s all I hear. I’m surprised you’re still as stupid as you were before! Spikus: Not funny Dickus, right? Dickus: Spikus, stop the yakkin’, it does us no good. Bop was not Dickus, and Dickus is not Bop... y’understand my lopsided hairy loon? Spikus: The Boghead, remember, our master, sent Bop here to Earth to collect information. He never came back! We were sent by The Boghead to find. H-h-h-h, Bop as our invasion was to begin, he was a liability, YOU said it would be “no problem”... Dickus: It WAS no problem! Spikus: Then he escaped, we crashed, and Bop helped the humans form a resistance! Dickus: That WAS a problem. I admit that now, yep. Spikus: We’re so dead. Dickus: I can kill you quicker now if you like! Gettin’ on me nerves Spikus, gettin’ on ‘em. Haven’t we got the bones of the shoupshuttle here? All we need is a few more bits n’ bobs from that dump of human scrap down the hillock there and we’ll be away! Spikus: You better be right Dickus. I can’t take anymore of this place, it does my head in. Dickus: I’m with you there Spikus, I think the Soupalon High Council did wrong in forming life on this planet. Soupalons like Bop and Holtus in charge, sure what do you expect? Couldn’t even “dispirit the humans into unquestioning servitude,” Waste of space... Spikus: How long did you say we’ve been here now? Dickus: About as long as the blackened hooks on the end of your feet Spikus. Come on, more traps to set. Catch that stankin’ meat! Catch it! Narrator: Meanwhile, up the mass path near Toomey’s Brook, a forestry worker waits… and waits… Jagger: Yeah, yeah, come on, you can do it, yeah... concentrate, concentrate, think of the flowin’ rivers... Go on... Ah n-no no, not Mrs Bruno, get out, I don’t want you, your husband’s a police officer... Stop touching me... Ah... I can’t do it! Heee, I can’t do it! Go on, you know you want to... but what about the pissin’? Ah leave it for now, come back later, fresher, ready to go, ok you’re right, just the one then... hihihihih... (Sparks up a doobie). Busher: (Bangs door!) Open up Jagger! Jagger! ... ... (silence)... I can see you Jagger for fucksake! (Bangs door) Stop hidin’ behind the curtains and open this door! Phwizzzzz! Jagger: Ah howaya Ned, I didn’t know it was you, I swear, I thought it was the pigs... or Mrs Bruno wantin’ the fat arse rode off her... Busher: What are ya shitin’ about? Just let me in, I have to talk to ya!!! Jagger: Wha? What ya say? Busher: Open the door Jagger!!! It’s BUSHER! BUSH-ER yeah? Jagger: Ah sorry Ned, I didn’t know it was you... hang on... Busher: (Whispers) Fuckin’ stupid hippy.... pyeah... (extended silence)... JAGGER! I’m still here yunno! I haven’t gone away,  now fuckin’ open it! Jagger: Wha? Busher: For the love of United, open the bloody DOWAR! Jagger: Ah yeah, alright Ned, calm down, it’s alright, come in... moy castle is yeah, yo-yours... n’ all.. Busher: What are ya doin’? Jagger: Wha? Busher: I said what are ya doin’? What are ya doin’? Lissen to me! Jagger: Ned, I can hear ya, don’t have to repeat yourself, do you want to roll a joint? I’ve started on a fat one. Busher: Jagger! No! No rollin’! No! The aliens are back and they’ve taken Ginger! Ginger’s gone! Jagger: Wha? Busher: Yes, she’s gone! TAKEN! ROBBED! BASTARDS! Jagger: Who’s been robbed Ned? Your mother? Busher: What did I just tell you ya sheepskin cunt?! Ginger me cat! And they took Laura too, and the gobshite Baldy... I saw the Gabbler about it and he told me to see you.., god knows fuckin’ why tho’...       Jagger: Your lips move… but I can’t hear what you’re sayin’ Ned, are ya tryin’ to freak me out? You tryin’ to get in my head? Busher: Stoppa! JAGGER! Lissen! I-know-you-are-a-fuck-head... but-this IS SERIOUS! HELLO? Jagger: Stop shoutin’ Ned will ya, I’m not deaf! What’s so ‘serious’? Busher: ALIENS! Aliens I told ya! THEM! Them Soupalon bastards have kidnapped Ginger, Laura and the Baldy idiot... Jagger: You’re at it again Ned, stop it, you’re not gettin’ in... say it, just say it, I’m ready for the truth, but first you have to let me hear it... Busher: PHWIZZZZ! MAMMAAAY! JAGGER! I’ll burst you now in a minute! PYEAH! LISSEN! Aliens...taken...Baldy...Laura...Ginger... went to GABBLER... Soupalons... are...BACK...come...here...see...the... retard... for... answers! Jagger: Calm down Ned, did you say ‘Aliens’, Soupalons are back? Baldy? Taken? Fuck me Ned, that’s serious... why didn’t you tell me? Busher: Ahhhhh... cunt! Jagger: Cunts is right! You don’t want to mess with those lads, but we have to do somethin’! Yeah, we need to go to the Tucker! Busher: Pyeah! That’s it, now you’re talkin’. Where does he live? Jagger: Right, yeah, do you want to know where he lives? I can bring you there... Busher: What’s wrong with you Jagger? Jagger: Wha? Busher: You are one dozy fuck... Take-me-to-Tucker. Jagger: Why you actin’ like that Ned? I said I would! Don’t fuck around Busher... I can see you. I know you Busher... it’s written all over your face... Busher: Shut up mad lad and take me to Tucker! Jagger: Yeah, speechless now Ned aren’t ya, no words now... (excited) I’m in your head... can you handle it? Are you ready for it Busher... I don’t think you arrrrrrrrrrrrrre... (Time slows down). Busher: Yaaaaaa fuuuuucccchhhhhinnnnn’ bbbbbooooolllloooooccchhhhsss.  Why I am I standing here talkin’ to a freakshow dressed in a sheepskin coat and big beige UGG boots! PEAH! Jagger: Woaw. Did you feel that Ned? The whole place went mad. Busher: Pyeaah! Your face warped, that was ff-f-fucked up! What’s goin’ on? TELL ME! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME JAGGER! Did you drug the fuckin’ air or wha? Jagger: It’s alright Ned, say somethin’, get it out... I’m here for ya... Busher: Am I going insane? Jagger: Ned, I have to play you some of me new music, it fuckin’ rocks, I was workin’ on it all last night and today, you’re the first one to hear it, you get the premiere! Here, right, are ya sittin’ down? Busher: Ah no! Every time. Every time I’m fuckin’ here… Jagger: Oh yeah! It’s called Beneath the Clouds of Venus... (click play). Busher: We have to go! JAGGER! Stop with that shite. Stoned eejit. We have to go to Tucker’s! Tucker’s!!! Listen to me! Jagger: What do you think Ned? Busher: Mmgg... Yeah, it’s fuckin’ brilliant! Let’s go see Tucker! Jagger: You think so? Thanks, but yeah, you’re right Ned... yeah, see Tucker, tell him the news. Come on, what are we waiting for? Busher: Oh Ginger... dear sweet beautiful Ginger... I hope I find you... 12 years on from 'first contact' gone wrong, Baldy Kendall has been snatched by the Soupalon race. Baldy’s neighbour Busher sees his own cat Ginger climb aboard the departing alien orb. Busher hates Baldy but loves Ginger. He will find her! This is a quest for Ginger the Cat. It will take Busher then Arlee, Tucker and Jagger out of their world and to the ‘Savage Garden’ of the Soupalon race. United Mutations is a 4-hour sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite Ulysses 31 but just as awesome.

You beautiful mutants. This is for you. Cave bestiam! A sci-fi wretch. The first 20 minutes of the story of ‘Busher’, of ‘Laura’, ‘Baldy’ and of ‘Ginger the Cat’. A story of outcasts who outlast, of losers who lead, of cretins who create. This is not Sparta, this is Star Trek gone awry. Possibly better than Blake's 7, it's the United Mutations… Busher: Get out of me way! I don’t CARE! Say nartin’ to me or I’ll burst ya, Where is he... 24, 26, 28... Come on come on... Pyeah! Woolly Pierce: Nedward! You’re late for work- Busher: What do you want Woolly Pierce? Woolly Pierce: Did you just spit on the street? Busher: Leavew me alone right?! Woolly Pierce: Stop that! Busher: I won’t! Make me sure! Fuck off right! What’s it got to do witcha anyway hah? Woolly Pierce: BUSHER! Busher: Stick your job! Leave me ‘lone, right?!  Ah HERE, 30 Main Street! This is it. (Thumps fists on door)... Gabbler! Open up! Pierce: You’re nothing Busher! You’re a loser! A fool! How dare you speak to me like that, I’m a respected member of Macra Na- Busher: Gabbler! Gabbler: Is… is that you?? What do ya want? I can see you through the hole!! Has me Millenium Falcon arrived? Are you the postman? Busher: Open up! FUCK YOU! Gabbler: Fuck you too! You’re not Postman Declan! Busher: Not you, him! Pierce: Nedward! You’re fired! I’ll report you to Garda Gilbert. Busher: ROBBER! USER! Open up Gabbler, I have to see ya! Pierce: Shocking standard, you know something Busher- Gabbler: Busher? Busher: Come on Gabbler will ya, it’s important! It’s about the aliens! Gabbler: Aliens? What do YOU know about aliens? Busher: Too fuckin’ much, peah, now open the door! Fuck off Woolly Pierce! Gabbler: Alright... you better be who you say you are... (Click) Argghhh! (Busher bursts in). Busher: Close the door, lock it! Doors. Windows. What the fuck is all this Lego doin’ here? Gabbler: I collect it. Now, calm down ya felcher, calm down, stay still. Busher: They took Ginger!! GINGER! MAMMY! TAE! PATRICK! PEAH! WOOLLY JUMPERS! SPEND! MAEN! MISERABLE! VICTOR!  Gabbler: Stop it Busher, stop it! Busher: GINGER! Gabbler, GINGER!!! Phwizzz! Into the skies! A flyin’ bucket! Phwizz! GONE! MAMMY!!! SWEETS! LAURA! Gabbler: Shut up! Shut up! Busher: GONE! GONE! FLY! CHARTS! SWEETS! SPEND! SINGLES! EMMA-CAROLINE-CATHLEEN-LAURA FWIZZZZZZZZZZ!!! Gabbler: Ahhhhhhh!!!!! (Suddenly, everything speeds up, Busher’s voice, clocks spin, lights buzz) Gabbler: STOOOOP! Busher: What happened? Ah, me head. Can’t see. Gabbler: Holey Moley... Busher: It’s dark. B-b-ut, I just came here at 1pm. It’s night time... It’s night time? Gabbler? What’s goin’ on?     Gabbler: I-I don’t know... I don’t know Busher, it’s it’s... time flies hihih?? Busher: Pyeah Gabbler, tell me about the resistance. Gabbler: What resistance? Busher: The ‘resistance’ to fight the aliens twelve years ago when they took over the town with a big plastic bowl TELL ME! Gabbler: Why Busher, why? Why do you want to know? Why are you all sweaty n’ half dressed? Busher: Because they’re back! Gabbler: Back? Who’s back? Busher: Them! The fuckin’ bastards who took Ginger! Lissen to me! Gabbler: Who’s Ginger? You’re not making any sense! Busher: They, them, THEY took Laura and Baldy too! In a spaceship! Come down, peah, took ‘em out of the bathroom window and flew off into the skies, that’s who them are pyeah, will ya lissen to me ya fuckin’ idiot! Gabbler: Say that again? Who did you just say? Busher: Baldy! They took Baldy and Laura and my Ginger in their ship! An hour ago, lunchtime, earlier, before, what fuckin’ time is it anyway? Gabbler: I-I-, You, you saw this Busher? Busher: That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! Saw it ALL! Everything! They were kidnapped!(Flashback to Soupalon abduction of Laura, Baldy and Busher’s cat Ginger) Maltus Brindle: Yes! Good news for ‘Earth Lovers’, Soupalon saves! All aboard! Come on now Baldy. Busher: It’s a-it’s a- hah? Hah? ALIENS? Abduction! Maulder! Picard! RYKER! RED ALERT! Abducting Laura and the other gobshite! Ginger The Cat: Reeeor! Busher: AND GINGER! Ginger no! Wait! Hey stoppit! Yis can’t! Patrick! Mammy! No! Help! Help! Ginger! He’s... They’re takin’ ‘em! In a flying bucket! Aaahh! Trousers... ankles... GINGER! MAMMY! (/Flashback) Gabbler: (Calmly) Holy Pat Moley... Sit down Busher. Busher: Wha? Gabbler: Sit down Busher! This is serious. Busher: Wha? Whaaa… Gabbler: Sit down. I have much to tell you. Busher: Fwizzzzz.... Gabbler: If this is right what you say... Busher: It fuckin’ is too, peah! Gabbler: Then they’re back. They, Busher, are the SOUPALONS, a race of aliens from the Scutum constellation some 5 light years behind Sirius. They came on a ‘Clinkership’, to harvest humans for their own uses. They came here twelve years ago an’ it was Baldy Kendall who discovered the truth as his girlfriend at the time; Hazel was found off diddlin’ a new factory worker on the sly, so Baldy followed him to the factory… (Flashback) Baldy: Right then Gerry, you’re time is up… (/Flashback) Gabbler: an’ an’ an’ saw a spaceship, an’ an’ local factory foreman Gerry Frehley with them! (Flashback) Baldy: He wasn’t dumping something, it was worse! He was waitin’ for somethin’, and that somethin’ was a big fuckin’ alien spaceship! I’m not jokin’ lads… (/Flashback) Gabbler: The workers were drones sent to plant seed in the local girls Busher! Busher: Shite! Gabbler: No messin’. So Baldy formed a resistance, in Dessie Morgan’s Pub... (Flashback) Baldy: Can’t just stand by and let our world be taken over for whatever purposes… (/Flashback) Gabbler: With Jagger and Mauldy Jordan, Tucker Wilson, Arlee ‘the DJ’ Davidson and big Miley too... Busher: Fuckin’ losers the lot of ‘em, but Miley was good for the hash tho’. Gabbler: The breakthrough happened when Laura found the key to the alien weakness. Vaginal cream! She unwittingly had sex with one of the drones- Busher: Phwizzzz! Lovely Laura saves the day! AHAWW AHAWW! Gabbler: -in their attempt to inseminate her, they got cremated on the spot by her hot flanger! Hihihihih. (Flashback) (Drone worker exploding) Mauldy: Sick! He exploded! (/flashback) Gabbler: ...so armed with the creams from Tierney’s Pharmacy they joined up with Norman Tash, local teacher and sports trainer... Busher: I hated him. Never gave me any support in the team... ‘Bring the gear Wednesday, we’re playin’ Annamoe’. No Tash, I won’t! Peah! He always tried to spin me round in the showers and slip it ferociously between the cheeks of me arse.  Gabbler: He did not! Busher: He fuckin’ did; ‘Busher’! He said… ‘Busher! Always keep your hole clear! A clean hole is the way to goal! Clear it with the finger boy! Clear it! Futchafutcha’! He was always at me! Gabbler: Well he never touched me. Busher: Count yourself lucky so, Gabbler: What’s wrong with me? Busher: Hah?- Maybe he just didn’t like you Gabbler! Gabbler: Am I ugly or somethin’? Is my arse not as good as everyone else’s? Busher: That’s coz the shit comes out of your MOUTH most of the time. AHAAW HAAWW! Gabbler: Anyway! Sort of gone off the topic right? So, as I was sayin’ the resistance had the secret weapon; ‘vaginal cream’. But the aliens too had a new weapon, a local tool called Lilo McGregor.... Busher: Lilo McGregor!? Sure he was my next door neighbour. He was some dose of shite... big freckly head and the foghorn voice! No wonder he disappeared around that time. Peah. I thought he just went off to find himself, as he was some lost cunt in those days. Gabbler: Sure they abducted him! Used their technology and created a metal motormouth from him... You could hear his boom for acres and acres. Shockin’! So to fight this right, the new wave resistance teamed up with Baldy’s new mentor ‘Bop’. Busher: Mmm Bop? Now who was he? Gabbler: He was a hermit out of Ballygannorn Woods. Some say he was the first of their lot here to examine us... He must’ve changed sides halfway through tho’, gone over to the other team like... saw the lure of what was really right and true and the right thing to do at the time... I don’t know tho’... Busher: Traitor! User! Turncoat! Liar! Fwizzzz! Hate them all! Gabbler: But Busher, he helped the resistance train up to fight the aliens! Busher: Don’t care! Don’t cayor! Gabbler: Then right, then in the Ratchly Chemical Factory, there was a big venture to a clearing and they bate shite out of each other until the aliens left. Busher: Horray! Pyeaaah! Great charts! Gabbler: But there were casualties... Mauldy was dead... Lilo McGregor, his mother Etna- Busher: Bitch... Gabbler: all destroyed... Busher: Good enough for them. But, but, how did you find all this out, were YOU part of the resistance? Gabbler: Sorry Busher, a journalist never gives out his sources. Busher: But you’re not a journalist, you’re an unemployed conspiracy theorist! How are you able to write all about this stuff n’ know all the details? And how can you still afford Star Wars Lego? Gabbler: That’s not important Busher! Your information means that the aliens are back and they are planning something... Busher: What tho’ what?! Gabbler: What indeed... You have to go see Tucker, Arlee or Jagger, they still survive, I hope. Maybe these Soupalons are looking for them... you’d better be quick! Busher: I don’t care who tells me what or if any of this is even true, and I’m having one mother of a trip right now but, I need to get Ginger back! I LOVE HER! SHE’S MY BEST FRIEND! Gabbler, tell me, where do they live? Gabbler: Jagger lives up the Mass Path near Toomy’s Brook, past Spruce Way... And don’t forget to say that I sent yis! (Door opens). Good Luck! Busher: Pyeah fucksake... (Door Closes). Fucksake… Gabbler: (Click, rewind FX... play part of Busher’s speech, click stop.) This is it Gabbler! This is it! This is the big supa SCOOP! 12 years on from 'first contact' gone wrong, Baldy Kendall has been snatched by the Soupalon race. Baldy’s neighbour Busher sees his own cat Ginger climb aboard the departing alien orb. Busher hates Baldy but loves Ginger. He will find her! This is a quest for Ginger the Cat. It will take Busher then Arlee, Tucker and Jagger out of their world and to the ‘Savage Garden’ of the Soupalon race. United Mutations is a 4-hour sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite Ulysses 31 but just as awesome.

Freud: Nein Nein Nein! Holmes: No, no! You got to believe me Doc! It’s all true. Tomathy wanted me to see you. He’s gone off the charts with the monkey balls in him, and I’ve been trying to cover his rampant sickness and all that time, that little voice in my head pushing, “Tick tock Tarquin!, Tick Tock Tarquin! Ah! Ah!!!” Again now! It’s wild with the anger!!! Help me!! I’m Madden the Head, must make it orderly! Must make it orderly, that’s what I do! Ah! Freud:  What? Oi! (Slaps Holmes’s face) Awww jaaa, I see what you mean. Holmes: Please tell me, am I going insane? Freud: Well- Holmes: Tomathy wants nothing more to do with me! Freud:  Shut up! Please. I believe in the truth, knowing oneself and that the truth will set you free. Holmes: But how Doctor Freud? Help me! Must make it orderly!! Tomathy, he needs me! I have to see him! He’s gone to see that Murphyarty, he loves him now! (HOFBURG PALACE - 3) Murphyarty: Oh good! I am so glad you are happy you see it my way! So you will be delighted to learn that Seamus, our Catholic socialist friend, will step in and make a call to Herr Freud’s house? Seamus? Seamus: Yes sir. Tomathy: Oh no, not at all, I’m sure you would find it valuable to sit in on the session Seamus. It would help you with your seminarian studies. How the mind works and all that… I trust you. Seamus: (STERN) I will go then. Murphyarty: Same can’t be said for poor Mr Holmes. He can’t even trust himself, as I control him! Hahahaha. Constructed him and controlled him. All this time. Amazing isn’t it? Just a simple trick of suggestive recall, repeated daily in my cell as he, the head orderly, cleaned and took the brain of my first experimental assassin ‘Wendle Brindle’ away! Tomathy: Assassin? Brindle? Did you say Wendle Brindle? In a cell? Murphyarty: Yes! In the City Mental Reservation when I was imprisoned there. Your Holmes, or ‘Tarquin Madden the Head Orderly’, programmed him to break me out, and used a lead-lined wooden lunchbox to continue the suggestive recall of my instructions in his mind! To kill Michael Collins! Isn’t it magnificient! And it worked! Hahaha… More tea? Tomathy: Oh- Murphyarty: As you said, it’s not schizophrenia! Just good old physiological brain disturbance, caused by Tarquin Madden’s mother! Tomathy: Oh my- Murphyarty: She gave him the ‘bad brains’. His mind was porous from a dominant parent. I simply replaced her- Tomathy: I feel very sick- Murphyarty: And he set us free, with Tarquin hypnotised into believing himself an inmate on the run. Tomathy: I need to close my eyes… (BERGGASSE 19 - 4) (Slap) Holmes: Aaagh! Freud:  Wake up! (WHACK) Wake! Up! Holmes: Ungh!!! (COLLAPSE) Freud:  It is an illusion based on the infantile emotional need for a powerful supernatural father figure, Holmes: Unggfff... Madden the Head... Orderly... Make... Freud:  Nein! (WHACK) Holmes: Urugh! Madden, orderly... Head orderly... Freud:  Nein, nein, nein, ja! Unt enter the world of the mind unt the world of the imagination (WHACK) Holmes: Aaagh! Freud:  Wake up! (HOFBURG PALACE - 4) Murphyarty: Tomathy, you look like you have seen genius at work! Mm, and you have! Wendle Brindle went on a killing spree caused by ‘Aubrey’ / ‘Tarquin’ himself, which you, an amateur sleuth fascinated, by this scruffy oik, who stole his suit, could work with, to satisfy his detecting curiosity as the growing stature and respect of the idiot savant Aubrey, with his wooden lunchbox; ME, became apparent!  Tomathy: Please stop- Murphyarty: He did my bidding! All is well Tomathy! You are with me now! Oh, and, wait, there’s more, you went to Germany! An amazing confluence! My time with Aubrey was gone but there he was. I had been subsequently caught on the run in the Irish Free State and transferred to Landsberg prison where; you all were for some reason? Tomathy: We were in Munich to go for relaxation, Murphyarty: Fantastic! It really is. Tomathy: To Spa treatment, we had an interpreter, we went to a beerhall, Murphyarty: Inside, I read a lot on this Herr Doctor Sigmund Freud. His id, ego and super-ego are functions of the mind rather than parts of the brain and they do not correspond one-to-one with actual somatic structures. Tomathy: We got arrested… Murphyarty: Perfect for more programming of poor old Aubrey’s porous mind! Tomathy: Oh no- S-Seam- why are going to Freud’s apartment, Seamus? Seamus: I, eh, well it’s like this Mr Wilson- Murphyarty: He does more than serve coffee and cake. He must kill your Mr. Holmes of course. I am done with him. Tomathy: What? Murpharty: As you said you are. Tomathy: You can’t! You- evil… Black Velvet Man! Oh my, why, Holmes just was right! Murphyarty: From the mouths of morons comes light! (Opera flares up) Tomathy: …about everything. You evil bastard. You live inside his mind, inside that box, directing him, a master, a master- Murphyarty: THE master! Twisting your mind and smashing your dreams hahaha, ehh… Tomathy: A master of puppets! Murphyarty: Try the pancakes! Tomathy: Holmes! No! Seamus! Come back! I have to stop this. It’s my fault! Murphyarty: (SLAMS TABLE) Is this not what you want? Tomathy: HOLMES! (RUNS OUT) OOOH! Murphyarty: Fly, fly my pretty, Seamus: Sorry Tomathy, it’s my job. Murphyarty: (SHOUTS) Seamus?! Seamus: Yes Mr Murphyarty? Murphyarty: Kill Them both. Seamus: Sir… (MUSIC CRESCENDOS) Murphyarty: Ahh, a rousing composition. (Applause) Dignitary: Excuse me, Herr Murphyarty? Murphyarty: Mmm? What do you need? Dignitary: The Society has asked if you were able to invite Chancellor Seipel along with you to your lecture this evening at the new Festsaal Grand room? Murphyarty: I’m sure I can construct that for you when I see him, but- Dignitary: Oh he’ll be back here by three. He is visiting the great Sigmund Freud at 2pm. Murphyarty: Hahahahaha! He will have a story to tell me when he comes back! Hmm, a cup of tea please and a digestive... Tick-tock, tiiiick-toooock! (BERGGASSE 19 - 5) Holmes: Ufff... Tick tock Tarquin! ... Madden... Head Orderly... City Mental Reservation... Madden the Head! Freud:  JAAA! That’s good! (WHACK) Holmes: Aaagh! I’m, I’m, Tarquin Madden, Head Orderly at the City Mental Reservation, working in the criminally insane wing! And then there was him! HIM! Freud:  Ja. Who? Who?. (WHACK). Holmes: Ahh! He was incarcerated as a threat to the ‘fledgling state’! He spoke to me from his cell. In the cell on the left of him was young Wendle Brindle and then O’Toole on the right. I drove Wendle Brindle mad with tales of my mammy as I cleaned up, she used to leather me with a slipper every night for the bad brains in me! Pegged me tongue to the washing line! Wendle was too sensitive... And the man in the middle, he knew it, and he was angry! Wendle was his. And I took him away from him! Freud:  JAAA! Who? Unt Why? (WHACK) Holmes: Uhhghh, Wendle was under his control... control… total control… Das Über ich! The Total Controller! And I took him away. He befriended me... he was nice to me and he... oh no! NO! NO!! Freud:  Aww Ja,a and that he may have been a pervert or a seducer (WHACK) Holmes: Arrhgh! He was! He made me believe! NO!! He used me! I, I, got my keys and I, Tarquin Madden, Head Orderly of the City Mental Reservation, I set them free.. All three! Wendle! ... O’Toole! And, and- Freud: Ja- What’s his name, hmmm... Holmes: Oh god help me no! It’s- (GULPS) Freud:  Ja, that’s it, ah, such evil. Holmes: It’s.. ah! - RICHARD MURPHYARTY! RICHARD MURPHYARTY! Gerbil: Hello Tarquin!!! Time to die!!! Goodbye! (DISAPPEARS) Freud: Ja. Holmes: Ah Murphyarty, he programmed me!! From inside this box! Freud: Ja. Holmes: AH! And he has Tomathy! He’ll kill him! Freud: Why? Holmes: NO! (LIECHTENSTEINSTRAßE - RUNNING) Tomathy: No! No! No! Come on Tomathy! Use your monkey powers! Seamus: HEY! You can’t outrun your destiny. Tomathy: Please, please Aubrey, there’s nothing in that box! Nothing! Only the projections of another’s controlling ways. Holmes! Seamus: Tomathy Wilson! Tomathy: Berggasse street! (Coughs) Seamus: Sorry Mr Wilson, sorry it had to be this way. (CLICK OF TRIGGER) Tomathy: Oh my! Seamus: It’s ok. It won’t hurt. Well, it might hurt, a little bit. I wouldn’t like to see you suffer. (BERGGASSE 19 - 6) Holmes: (slapped) Aaah! Freud:  Wake up! (Slap) Wake… Up! (Slap) Holmes: Argh! Stop hittin’ me ya bollocks, I know who I am! Oh sweet lord, I am alive! Murphyarty! He’s behind it all. He had me believing I was on the run, he implanted me with his sick evil seed to do his bidding! To kill. And now the deep dark devil, the ‘Black Velvet Man’, has Tomathy! (GUNSHOT) Holmes: Guns! What’s goin’ on? Aw, please no! Freud:  Oij! (Window open) Holmes: It’s Tomathy! He’s ok! Tomathy! I know the truth! I know who I am! I’m coming! Tomathy: Holmes! It doesn’t matter! It means nothing! You were right all along! Holmes: YESSS! Thanks Doctor Freud, you ARE a fuckin’ genius! You bate the truth out of me! (RUNS OUT DOOR) Freud:  Danke. Holmes: (RUNS IN) Ahhh, forgot me box! Gerbil:             PUT ME DOWN! (BERGGASSE 19 - OUTSIDE) Holmes: Tomathy! Tomathy! I know who I am! I am ‘Tarquin Madden’! Head Orderly! Akskskssksksh! Gerbil: GAAAAH! Put meeee down! Tomathy: I’m sorry Holmes! Holmes: HAH? I can’t hear ya! I’m so happy! Aksksshshsh! Tomathy: I don’t care about the truth! Holmes: What’s this? Why are you bleeding? S-S-SEAMUS?! Seamus: Sorry lads, but youse both have to die. The, the feeling is gone- Tomathy: You and I, it means nothing to me! Seamus: (TO HIMSELF IN TEARS)… this means nothing to me. (CLICK OF GUN) Mental Holmes III - Oh Vienna! Is an Amplevoicepod HQ audio adventure podcast. The newly reinvigorated Tomathy Wilson has taken Aubrey Holmes to Vienna to seek out famed psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud. But not before they run into old friend Seamus Byrnie working at cáfe Diglas on Strobelgasse. Therein a chance meeting with the mysterious Professor Murphyarty leads them to visit the Wiener Konzerthaus at his behest. In the lobby they meet Austrian Chancellor Ignaz Seipel and all hell breaks loose once seats are taken. Culminating in the worst possible of situations and the fracturing of a friendship. Only Sigmund Freud has the answers. Das Es, Das Ich, Das Uber Ich! An id-laden 72 minute adventure to find out who exactly is 'mad in the head'? Another foley-filled, action-packed, highly-aural adventure from Amplevoicepod.

Holmes: That’s it… Fuck all squared… Lost on the streets…. Walking… Hours… All night… Because Holmes; is alone. Gerbil: Tick tock tick tock Tarquin! Time to return! Holmes: You! Gerbil: He is Das Ich, you are Das Es, I am Das Uber Ich! Holmes: Where were you when you were needed? Gerbil: You must go back, take the blame, take the shame. It is who you are! Save your friend! Holmes: From what? He’s not my friend anymore. He’s a user! He’s got ‘Black Velvet Man’ now! Gerbil: Take the blame, take the shame. Retuuuurn! Holmes: I trusted you to get me out of these situations. I did what you wanted. I followed you. Why were you gone? I’m getting suspicious now. Gerbil: Everything will be all right. Holmes: You weren’t there when HE was around… Gerbil: Don’t think! Do! Holmes: Tomathy too, he wasn’t himself… Gerbil: Tick tock Tarquin! Holmes: Who is Tarquin? Is he me? What am I? Am I mad-in-the-head? I don’t know anymore. Sure I never did. But I can’t stay alone forever… I’m here for a reason! Gerbil: We have work to dooooo! Holmes: Yeah! Tomathy disowned me. But it wasn’t him. He was under the influence of his monkey balls or something, something… Like some evil… Gerbil: Stop thinking! Start doing! You are das ES! Instinct-no-think, instinct-no think! Holmes: Hang on! Sure if I’m the ‘instinct’; that means I do what I want. Tomathy’s the ‘Das Ich’ and he does, what then? Gerbil: He controls you… Regulates you… Holmes: He controls me?? AKSKSKSH! Sure I controlled him! I took all the blame! I took all the shame! He was the one doing what HE wanted! Getting naked! Eating vomit! I had to jump in to save him! To eat his shit to take away his shame! For he was supposed to be refined, and, and gentle, a soft soul and a true- and he fuckin’ turned on me! He betrayed me! He, he defriended me! Gerbil: You must take back control, to give him back his control… over you… Holmes: Ah here… I’m lost! I was ‘instinct’ but then I lost it… Tomathy took it, as he was ‘control’, but as he took ‘control’ he gained ‘instinct’ and shit on the table… and then, so… uh, and you in the box, you’re the wha now? Gerbil: I am Das Über Ich! Holmes: I see… So like, the ‘ich’ means Tomathy, so should be ‘control’ as you said, and, so you’re like ‘above the controller’… you’re like; The Total Controller??! Gerbil: YESSSSS! Nyyessss! Tick tock tick tock! Holmes: I have no idea what’s going on, but I’m going to find out! I’ll do it for Tomathy and then he’ll take me back. I’ll go and find this Psycho Freud fella! He’ll know won’t he? Gerbil: NOOOOO! Cancer-jaw cancer-jaw! You are wasting time! Return! Return! (HORSE & CART) Tomathy: (STERN) Holmes! Holmes: Tomathy! Gerbil: Losing controoool! Holmes: You see! It’s Tomathy! Tomathy: Get in! Holmes: Aksksksh! I knew you’d come looking for me! Tomathy: Be quiet. I’m doing this against my better judgement. Even Richard Murphyarty advised me against it. But he doesn’t know! He’s waiting for me at the Hofburg Palace… But it’s near noon now and I arranged this meeting for you… Holmes: (HAPPY) Ah Tomathy! Which you is it? Have you snapped out of it yet? Tomathy: I’m more concerned that the genius Freud in his frail health has made time to meet you and it would insult him not to show up. And this is the last thing I will ever do for you Holmes. Holmes: But… wait… If, if he fixes me… We can- Tomathy: Beastly behaviour- Holmes: Uh, we could take the train home together? Tomathy: I can’t save you, you’re on your own. Holmes: But Tomathy- Tomathy: Don’t forget your breadbox. You’ve forgotten everything else- Holmes: Not snapped out of it yet then… Tomathy: Manners, civility, decorum, one’s place in ‘the great chain of being’. I mean, look at this box… (OPEN BOX) Holmes: Don’t open that! (Box opened) Tomathy: See? See? Nothing inside! You see? Nothing! It’s all you Holmes. Mad in the head! Mad in the head! Holmes: I shouldn’t leave you Tomathy, (shuts box) you’re not safe! I have to save you. Tomathy: Goodbye Holmes. Holmes: Well that was fuckin’ hostile… (HORSE & CART DEPART) (OPENS BOX) Nothing in here no? Gerbil: ARGGGH! YOU FOOL YOU FOOL! WRONG WAY! We have work to doooo! Holmes: Fuckit! Get back in your box till this is over! Number 17, number 18, ah, Doctor Sigmund Freud. Number 19… Alright so… (KNOCK ON DOOR) Gerbil: ARGGHGHGH! No! No! (BOX RATTLES) Holmes: Shut the fuck up! (DOOR OPENS) Freud:  (CLEARS THROAT) Pffft! Danke… Holmes: Eh no, not you, eh, because, hello. I am here to see you. Freud: Unt Why? Holmes: Em, because, eh, listen, my name is Aubrey Holmes, how are you today? Freud: What do you mean ‘how am I today’. Am I not doing well today? Holmes: Hah? No, excuse me Sigmund Freud, my best friend thinks I am mad-in-the-head and maybe you can help me. Freud: Who told you that? Holmes: Eh, eh, ‘Tomathy Wilson’ did, he phoned you, you agreed to see me! Freud: Oh ja ja, I see. Holmes: Can I fuckin’ come in? Freud: Well, cough, of course. (HOFBURG PALACE - 1) Tomathy: Sorry I’m late Richard. Murphyarty: Not at all. I’ve reserved us the best seat in the house. Tomathy: I have an admission to make… I found Aubrey and took him to see Doctor Freud. That’s why I’m- Murphyarty: (cape waft) Did you now? Why did you do that? You know what we spoke about. Tomathy: He needs help! I brought him here for that very reason! I know Doctor Freud can help him. Murphyarty: Ha! Poor Mr. Holmes may consume Freud with his affliction! All that trouble for nothing. It is not so difficult to deconstruct your former friend, Tomathy. Tomathy: What do you mean? Murphyarty: Centuries ago, people like ‘Holmes’, people who ‘heard’ or ‘saw’ things that no one else could, were venerated as messengers of God, glorified as mystics or feared for possessing evil forces. Today, the explanation tends toward a physiological brain disturbance, perhaps a chemical defect. Tomathy: Yes! Why Richard, that just might be it! He’s a schizophrenic, right? Murphyarty: (SMILES) Glad you can keep up with the mundane… but no. Although many people with schizophrenia have auditory hallucinations, not all voice-hearers are schizophrenic. Schizophrenia is a diagnosis based on several symptoms that can include paranoia, distorted sense of reality and blunted emotions. Tomathy: So it might not be schizophrenia? Murphyarty: Tomathy, I like you. You are a man of sensibility most of the time so I will educate you. Maybe Mr Holmes has hidden sexual meaning in his hearing voices? Tomathy: Ooh, I say, steady on. He batted a straight wicket all the time I’ve known him, well, until Vienna… Murphyarty: You told me about the operation… in Munich with Doctor Voronoff? You were unconscious… Holmes said you had monkey glands inserted in you and indeed your genital pouch, upon inspection, was quite gargantuan. It could certainly explain your descriptions of heightened but dissociative feelings. Tomathy: I don’t know when it starts or what happened after it ends, if anything happens at all. I just feel out of my body somewhat… Murphyarty: But what if you were ‘taken advantage of’ while upon the slab, by a deviant, who had groomed you for that very moment… Tomathy: Excuse me? You mean ‘buggered by Aubrey’? Murphyarty: Maybe you feel out of body because he strayed inside your body. Tomathy: (Fart) Urrgh! Murphyarty: Studies suggest a biological basis for it. People who hear voices are occasionally plagued by commands to commit violent or regressive acts. Tomathy: No, no, no, Richard, no, I simply refuse to believe that. Murphyarty: Well believe this Tomathy. That operation has changed you, changed your relationship, charged the air with something that Mr Holmes was obliged, almost responsible, to alleviate here in Vienna. Why? Was he guilty? Transferring this by way of taking the fall for your excessive outbursts of depravity? Tomathy: My, my what now? Murphyarty: It was you who spoiled your clothes at the café, it was you who behaved immorally at the opera and it was you who defecated upon the table at Café Central. I was there. I saw everything. Tomathy: What? But you said- oh no… It was me? I did all of th-I can’t remember! Murphyarty: Trauma such as this, can be omitted from the memory for the protection of one’s sanity you see, you’ve simply blocked it out to save yourself. Tomathy: Uugh, you mean, I am a monster?! Murphyarty: Yet here with me now, in these salubrious surroundings, you are at peace. Why is that? Tomathy: Yes, why is that? Murphyarty: The same reason that I said it is not too difficult for me to deconstruct your ‘Mr. Aubrey Holmes’. Tomathy: Why Richard, why? Tell me! Murphyarty: Because I constructed him! And I control you! Tomathy: You eh, what? Em-again please? Mental Holmes III - Oh Vienna! Is an Amplevoicepod HQ audio adventure podcast. The newly reinvigorated Tomathy Wilson has taken Aubrey Holmes to Vienna to seek out famed psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud. But not before they run into old friend Seamus Byrnie working at cáfe Diglas on Strobelgasse. Therein a chance meeting with the mysterious Professor Murphyarty leads them to visit the Wiener Konzerthaus at his behest. In the lobby they meet Austrian Chancellor Ignaz Seipel and all hell breaks loose once seats are taken. Culminating in the worst possible of situations and the fracturing of a friendship. Only Sigmund Freud has the answers. Das Es, Das Ich, Das Uber Ich! Another foley-filled, action-packed, highly-aural adventure from Amplevoicepod.

Tomathy: Four? Inside me? Four balls? When I was- Doctor Voronoff? Urgh! Why didn’t you tell me Holmes?! Holmes: I was just about to! I was too busy covering for you! Tomathy: Four balls? I can’t- I ca- (Flashback to Doctor Voronoff shooting monkey) (Holmes: Aaaagh!) (Voronoff: Let’s cut into Mr. Wilson’s scrotum… Like this…) Tomathy: Monkeys? Monkeys?! Seamus: I’ll get a bucket. Holmes: Y’see Tomathy- you didn’t know you had it in you. It’s probably why you can’t remember. Hopefully now you’ll understand. Tomathy: Is this why I want to poo in my hands? Holmes: Yep, that’s why. Now, do we have a lunch-date with ‘Black Velvet Man’ or what? Tomathy: Unnngggnnn. Bucket!! (CAFÉ CENTRAL, HERRENGASSE) Murphyarty: Chancellor Seipel, as discussed last night; there will be no social unrest. Seipel: Blah blah blah? Murphyarty: My influence extends to many eyes and ears. Seipel: Blah blah blah blah blah-? Murphyarty: Yes I was. Incarcerated twice; once in Cork, Ireland, as an enemy of the state no less, then transferred to Landsberg prison (cape waft). And now I am here, to help and guide you Chancellor… Seipel: Blah blah-blah? Murphyarty: Broke free? Haha, you joke Chancellor. I was set free. The name ‘Tarquin Madden’ mean anything to you Herr Seipel? No, I didn’t think so. Anyway none of this matters. People must perish for the future to advance, don’t you believe Herr Seipel? They have their use, and then… they don’t… You do the work you need to, for so must I. And now, I take your leave. I have guests arriving. Good day. (Cape waft). Seipel: Blah Blah Blah! Murphyarty: I’m afraid Chancellor, one cannot avoid fatalities. But I am sure, you will not be one, as this great chain of being moves on. (CLICKS FINGERS) Seamus! Seipel: Blah Blah Blah! Tomathy: Seems as if our Herr Mr Richard Murphyarty was brewing up something big in Vienna that night. Meanwhile, I picked my jaw up off the floor. From the discovery that I contained two foreign primate testes on my person, and headed once and for all to get Aubrey Holmes, and his obsession with his lunchbox, fixed! Tomathy: I told you Holmes, I’m doing it, especially now that I know what you did to me… Holmes: Me? What did I do? You wanted the spa treatment, I was the one trying to stop- You said you were in his hands-ah it’s no use, you don’t listen anymore! Gerbil: Wrong way turn back. Wrong way, turn back! I am das Über-Ich!    Holmes: Fuck up! Tomathy: Shut up, it’s ringing… Shhhsh!! Oh- oh Hello? Am I speaking to the eminent Psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud? Ah hello Herr Freud. My name is Tomathy Wilson. I have a case that may be of interest to you. A-a-a- yes, Tomathy Wilson! Yes-but-yes- no, it’s not a strange name. Listen, eh- hahaha- my friend’s name is ‘Aubrey Holmes’ and he’s forgotten himself you see. Yes. Not a sausage. And he talks to his wooden lunchbox. Oh? Really? You would? Excellent! Would-eh-would-of, of course, I-would tomorrow at noon suit you Herr Freud? Marvellous! See you then. Thank you. Goodbye. (HANGS UP) Success! Gerbil: NOOOOOO! Holmes: ARGH! THE BOX! Tomathy: Success Holmes! Herr Freud accepted to see us tomorrow at noon. What the bloody hell are you doing now? Holmes: It’s not me, it’s the box, it’s vibrating, you can see it can’t ya? Tomathy: The closer we get to Freud the more you act up Holmes. Now just pull yourself together and calm down. I’m trying to come to terms with the most absurd of revelations that I contain monkey glands and they make me do involuntary things of which I’ve no control or recollection thereafter… Holmes: Can you not see it vibrating? Am I madden the- Tomathy: Atatatat! I haven’t finished! We’ve, or rather, I’ve, a lunch date with Mr. Murphyarty and you’ll not do a damn thing to cause a scene, am I clear? I blame you for all this. Holmes: Curse a fuck on it! What’s goin’ on? I’m trying to help you- Gerbil: Tick tock tick tock! He has betrayed you! He will not help y-(FADES QUICKLY) Holmes: Where, wait, what, where are ya goin’? Speak to me? Hello? HELLO? Tomathy: Ssshhhst! Ah hello Richard! So lovely to see you again in such immaculate surroundings… Murphyarty: I see Herr Wilson you have brought your most distinguished companion. Tomathy: Please forgive me Richard. He simply goes wherever I do. Were it up to me I- Murphyarty: Heheh nonsense, I am sure Mr ‘Aubrey Holmes’ will be a delight at lunch and the near 50yr old surroundings shall do wonders, to quell his temperament. Holmes: Uh? It’s stopped vibrating, soon as I sat down… devil… dark… deep devil… Murphyarty: It’s still, I can’t, you, all of you, and that box Mr. Holmes. Is it a new box? Tomathy: Oh he’s had that in his arms since the day I met him. Murphyarty: When was that? Tomathy: August 1922, in Cork, the Free State… Holmes: Any pancakes? Do you know where I can get pancakes? Murphyarty: Around the time the new leader Michael Collins was assassinated? Tomathy: That’s right! On Mbeal na MBlaaa?! We were actually- Holmes: (COUGH) He’s opened the gob full wide! (TO BOX) And you’re nowhere! Murphyarty: And tell me, because I feel as if I know you Mr. Holmes. Have you ever visited the Cork Mental Reservation? I was there, for a brief time, on matters which don’t concern this conversation. Tomathy: Remarkable! We were there too! We were investigating, well I mean, it’s all quite complicated really, there was a murder, and well I’m a bit of an amateur detective, that’s how we met, and eh, yes, we went to visit a suspect’s mother there and that’s where we then met Seamus! He was a prison guard! Can you believe it? Holmes: Who’s working for you for some unknown reason? Murphyarty: Can’t get good people anymore to do one’s bidding can you? Holmes: Why’s he staring at me? Stop looking at me ‘Black Velvet Man’! Tomathy: Holmes! Your manners! Murphyarty: Oh no damage done. This is truly wonderful. You wouldn’t believe. Tomathy: I tell you, after what I’ve just been told, I could just about believe anything. Seamus: Would you gentlemen like to order anything from the menu. Holmes: Fucksake! You are everywhere! Madhouses, beerhouses, cafehouses… Murphyarty: But not in your box mmm? … Seamus works for me; my personal manservant. He’ll do anything. (LEANS OVER TO HOLMES) Anything… Holmes: He’s fierce close to my face. I’m gettin’ an urge… Tomathy: Calm down Holmes. Richard is just teasing, aren’t you Richard. Richard? Murphyarty: Excuse me gentlemen for a moment. Seamus, come with me. Seamus: Yes mast- sir. Tomathy: Now look what you’ve done! You’ve offended him with your gestures! Holmes: Me? You stop telling him the whole lot! You can’t keep secrets! Tomathy: There are none to keep, you bounder! Unlike you, keeping the fact I have alien primate parts in my body. (Fart) Holmes: Hanging from your body actually, and you wanted it! Tomathy: I did most certainly not! And quiet! You’re doing it again… Holmes: Doing what? Making a show of you? You do that yourself! I came here to Vienna with you. Didn’t want to! But you bounced off in your monkey balls, which I tried to stop, pulling me here to see a man to brain-fuck me in some sick hope of making you happy! And then when I try to make you happy, take all the blame to save your reputation and enjoy the posh stuff, you shit on me from the heights with actual shit, in your trousers! Tomathy: Y-y-y-you didn’t tell me the truth! Holmes: No no no!Tomathy: I have been violated! Holmes: You wanted it! I told you I tried to stop you… I even fuckin’ saved you, when, when the doctor ran away! That was me! Tomathy: What do you mean? Holmes: Ask the dozy Seamus! He was there, until he ran away too! They all ran away on you Tomathy! But not me! I stayed! I cared! I sewed up your big four-ball sack and brought you back from the dead, with telephone wires! It nearly killed me so that you’d live! Tomathy: That’s it Holmes, I’ve just about-ha-ha-ha-ohohohohoh… Holmes: Uh-ooh… What’s goin’ on? Tomathy: Oh-ooh-oh-ooh-oh! Holmes: Eh, there’s a change come over your face Tomathy! What are you getting up on the table for? Tomathy: (MONKEY GRUNTS) Oh-oh-oh-oh- (UNZIPS, UNBUCKLES) Holmes: No, no, there’s no, you don’t have to take your trousers down… again… in public… especially here on top of a table… hah, Tomathy? Tomathy: (TROUSERS DOWN)… Mental Holmes III - Oh Vienna! Is an Amplevoicepod HQ audio adventure podcast. The newly reinvigorated Tomathy Wilson has taken Aubrey Holmes to Vienna to seek out famed psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud. But not before they run into old friend Seamus Byrnie working at cáfe Diglas on Strobelgasse. Therein a chance meeting with the mysterious Professor Murphyarty leads them to visit the Wiener Konzerthaus at his behest. In the lobby they meet Austrian Chancellor Ignaz Seipel and all hell breaks loose once seats are taken. Culminating in the worst possible of situations and the fracturing of a friendship. Only Sigmund Freud has the answers. Das Es, Das Ich, Das Uber Ich! Another foley-filled, action-packed, highly-aural adventure from Amplevoicepod.

Tomathy Wilson: Ah, fresh in a friendly old pair of trousers. With an unusually grumpy Aubrey Holmes, we made our way to the Vienna Konzerthaus, to take the seats kindly offered by the dashing Richard Murphyarty. (Orchestra warming up) Tomathy: These are wonderful seats! Audience: Shhhh! Tomathy: Oooh, eh, sorry! But these are wonderful seats aren’t they Holmes? I can see everything from up here. And the next rows heads are down at my knees! Helloooo! Ooops-hoo-hoo! Audience: Shhhh- Holmes: I don’t understand it, it won’t come out of the box… it’s been over an hour! Tomathy: Oh you mean Mr Murphyarty in the private box with Chancellor Seipel? I know! Isn’t it remarkable that they know each other! He’s well connected is our ‘Black Velvet Man’. I hope Mr Seipel’s forgets about earlier in the cathedral, you know, when we meet them at intermission Holmes. Holmes: He just won’t fuckin’ come out. Tomathy: Well you can’t blame him Holmes. He gave us free tickets! It was maybe too much to expect he’d be sitting here with us when he has that box now with the Chancellor. But, again, these seats up here are wonderful! Audience: Sssshhh!! (SNIFF SNIFF, BHPOAH, YUCK… SHIZE, WAS IS DAS, EWW) Holmes: Come out you poisoned dwarf! I know you’re in there! Tomathy: I don’t think there are any munchkins performing in this opera Holmes! I say, this is rousing stuff isn’t it? (BURSTS INTO SONG) LALAAAA! Audience: (QUIET! SSSH! SEI RUHIG! Arschlöcher; Arschgeigen; Affenärsche; Ärsche; Scheißkerle; Wichser; blöde Säue etc). Holmes: And so it begins… Tomathy? Tomathy: (REACHES INTO TROUSERS) Unfgh. Unnn! Holmes: Keep your hand out of there, there’s people lookin’ at us! Audience: (DISQUIET) Tomathy: (Zip) Hello! Fancy seeing you here! You like opera too? Oh-oh-oh-oh! Holmes: He’s takin’ out the whole flog! Again! Put it away, youse’ll get us arrested! Sorry! Sorry for that now. Excuse me!! Hah! Sure it was all my fault. I bet him 20 Krone he wouldn’t take out his tool. Ah Tomathy, fair play to ya. I was pinching him all the time sure! He’s great fun. Sure I’m a fuckin’ man savage. From the jungle! God know what I’m doing here amongst normal people. Youse should just shoot me. With a ball of me own shite! I’ll have one for you in a minute. Just let me clear the hair with me fingers first! Tomathy: Oh I say Holmes, that lady just below me. She’s so graceful… Uhuh… Holmes: The auld one whose face is mangled in disgust? Tomathy: She looks just like little Mary Pickford… Holmes: How fuckin’ dare you Tomathy Wilson! Mary Pickford is gorgeous. This hag wouldn’t drink her piss! Yeah, I can see you… You’re BET DOWN! Tomathy: Uhhh… She’s so alluring, bewitching, haunting, beguiling…. I think I love her… Holmes: Hah? Akskskskh, this is too much. Tomathy: Oh, hello? Hello! Hellooooo! Holmes: Stop that! Don’t touch her… Tomathy: But she’s just below my knees… Holmes: No, NO! Tomathy: Hello, hello? Hello! Tomathy: And that’s when, without knowing, I (and not for the first time) changed… Tomathy: Ugh, ugh, ugh... Holmes: Tomathy? Tomathy: I want to lick your voluminous orbs! (PANTING, RUBBING) Woman: (ANGRY GERMAN WOMAN) Holmes: (SIGH) Ah but y’are beautiful so y’are. How much for a go on your busty rack? Tomathy: Hahaha! Looks like you are causing a scene Holmes! Holmes: Tomathy Wilson, you’ve got the horn in my clean trousers and you’re behaving like a mental patient. You want this fat pasty bitch? Tomathy: Mm-mm! Holmes: Right! I’ll drive the hand in and get a load of tit for ya. Unnf, gimme the fuckin’ tit there m-yaaah! Man: GOTT! There’s a homeless oik covered in shit trying to molest my wife! Holmes: (Rips blouse) Shut up you! Don’t be so fuckin’ selfish keeping it all to yourself. Give us a feel! Tomathy: (Masturbation). (Chaos ensues)… (End of opera, applause) Seipel: Indecipherable blah blah blah! Murphyarty: I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that Chancellor… but I presume you refer to the commotion up at the back? Seipel: Blah blah… Murphyarty: Isn’t it delightful! Seipel: Blah. Murphyarty: A great show! The man with the box is an animal! Haha! (INTERMISSION announcement) Murphyarty: Intermission is here! Let’s go for a drink Chancellor…. Seipel: Blah blah bluuh! Holmes: Who’s this ‘me’ business? You started it as usual. Tomathy: You are the one misbehaving! Man: Motherfucker… Holmes: Me? Seipel: Blahblahburgh.Murphyarty: Yes, quite the smell… Ah, gentlemen, some entertainment your friend provides… Too bad it wasn’t on the stage. Holmes: Hah? Nothing to do with me! Tomathy: Oh Holmes, you grabbed that lady’s bosom… Holmes: You had the cock out and were about to lick the jugs off her. Murphyarty: That may be your account, but we saw it differently Mr ‘Holmes’. I fear your type of vaudeville improvisation may not be appreciated in these rather ostentatious confines. Tomathy: Oh, I know what you mean. Holmes: How do you do that?! Tomathy: What Holmes, do what? Holmes: Just go back to normal as if nothing’s happened? It’s like there’s two o’ you. Tomathy: Haha! The only one around here with a claim to dual personality is you dear boy and that’s why we need to seek out Sigmund Freud! Murphyarty: (Cape flap) Ooh, sounds intriguing! Holmes: I actually don’t think it’s anything to do with me, but it’s certainly natin’ to do with you! Murphyarty: Mmm. Allow me to introduce my most distinguished guest of the evening, the eminent, and his grace, the Austrian Chancellor; Ignaz Seipel. (BOWS) Seipel: Blah blah blah…. Tomathy: Delighted to meet you! Seipel: Bluurgh? Tomathy: Eh, for the first time of course! Holmes: Did he just use words? Seipel: Blah blah blah blah. Tomathy: Oh hahahaha! Murphyarty: Indeed. A shower is to be hoped… Holmes: Youse can understand him? Where am I? In an asylum?! And not even a pancake to eat. Tomathy: Holmes! You forget where you are. Holmes: But, but- Seipel can’t speakle! Tomathy: Speakle-eh speak for yourself! Holmes: I can! Only just though! Mammy used to peg me by the tongue to the washing line as a child. When I had the ‘bad brains’ she said. I couldn’t stop, fuckit, fuckit, fuckit, ah bad brains! Couldn’t get the words out of my head... Tomathy: Really Holmes, spare us your stories. Seipel: Blurhgh… Tomathy: You’re embarrassing us. Seipel: Blelelehhgh. Tomathy: Chancellor Seipel is annunciating himself quite clearly.  Holmes: That’s not what you said in the church today! Murphyarty: Oh, you were at Chancellor Seipel’s sermon in the cathedral? Seipel: Blah blah blah… Tomathy: Really! Murphyarty: Did he really? How very mental of you Mr ‘Holmes’… Tomathy: Dear Aubrey lost the run of himself in church and I had to escort him outside. Chancellor Seipel, please accept my heartfelt apologies. I trust it didn’t detract too much from your exhilarating sermon. Seipel: Blughblughbubblergh. Holmes: Turncoat bastard! Hangman! User! What are ya doin’? You said he was a racist! A jew-bater! A-a-fuckin’ bollox! Tomathy: Nonsense! You’re hallucinating again. It’s that box you carry, it affects you! Holmes: As I live and breathe in your shitty trousers, you say this to me. Murphyarty: Seems this box of yours Mr ‘Holmes’ gets more and more attention. Seipel: Blah blah blah! Murphyarty: Hahaha! Yes! Very true! Tomathy: Oh for a man of God you are quite the devil. Holmes: Ahhhrgh! Bad brains! Have to get away! Run away! Away! (RUNS) Murhpyarty: Where’s he going? Tomathy: Oh he does that sometimes, most probably to talk to his box. Murphyarty: Talk to his…? Well, maybe contacting Doctor Freud is the right course of action then. But you must make haste; Tomathy: Mm! Murphyarty: For he is racing against all existence. Seipel: Blughgh. Murphyarty: As are we all! Seipel: Blugh. Tomathy: Yes, yes, I-I-I believe so. Seipel: Blurughghgh. Murpharty: Yes. You are a loyal and true friend Tomathy. And someone who must do me the honour of accepting my invitation to lunch (cape flaps), for two, tomorrow at… Café Central? Tomathy: Oh Café Central! Why, why Richard, I would be delighted! Murphyarty: That’s it settled then. But for now please you must excuse me, the Chancellor and I must discuss Austria’s economy. Seipel: Hyperinflation is the beast that must be tamed! Murphyarty: It had its agenda to carry out the bidding of its masters, but now it serves no purpose and must be killed! Seipel: Blurughghgh. Murphyarty: Good evening sir! (CAPE WAFT) Mental Holmes III - Oh Vienna! Is an Amplevoicepod HQ audio adventure podcast. The newly reinvigorated Tomathy Wilson has taken Aubrey Holmes to Vienna to seek out famed psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud. But not before they run into old friend Seamus Byrnie working at cáfe Diglas on Strobelgasse. Therein a chance meeting with the mysterious Professor Murphyarty leads them to visit the Wiener Konzerthaus at his behest. In the lobby they meet Austrian Chancellor Ignaz Seipel and all hell breaks loose once seats are taken. Culminating in the worst possible of situations and the fracturing of a friendship. Only Sigmund Freud has the answers. Das Es, Das Ich, Das Uber Ich! Another foley-filled, action-packed, highly-aural adventure from Amplevoicepod.