Original Airing date: 2025.11.01
Our Mayor is really going through some things. Also, gripes about Vegas, a nice, calm moment of story time, and maybe a Steak-umm?
Local Sponsor Support Provided by: Big Oat
Show Notes:
Episode Script: Ruu McKinney
Voice Acting:
Phil Liota: Ruu McKinney
Music:
Introduction
“Laundromat Lofi Chill” by Muzaproduction
Happenings in the Hollow:
“Dynamic Flow” by Lulu_Sound_music
Local Community Spotlight:
“Sunny Bossa Nova Jazz Podcast Summer Music” by Denis Pavlov
“Nature Calming” by Will Cheng
“Light Bossa Nova Jazz Seaside Cafe Music” by Denis Pavlov
Big Oat Ad Bucks Episode Transcript
[Introduction Segment begins. “Laundromat Lofi Chill” plays.
Good morning listeners, and greetings from Evenfall Hollow. I’m your host Phil, and with me are my PA Paul, and Muffin, the office cat that can foretell your death.
Hey uh Paul. I just realized something.
PA. Paul. You name is Paul, and your job is PA, which if you add U-L to, is Paul.
What? I thought it was interesting.
Geez, you’re in a mood today. I’m not going to invite you to any more ghost hunts if you’re gonna be like this.
Yeah? Well fine back.
Hmmph.
No, no. I’m sorry Paul. You’re my Hailey Joel Osmond.
Yeah it’s a sixth sense reference since you know, we never conclusively proved I wasn’t a ghost.
[Phil sighs]
Paul. Is all this hostility because you’ve never seen the Sixth Sense? Would you feel better if we watched it together?
Hey no, don’t be like that. All you gotta do is ask. I’m always here for you buddy. if I disappear at the end though, you owe me a coke, okay?
[Muffin Meows]
No, Muffin we’ve been through this. You need to work on your jealousy. You don’t own me.
[Muffin meows]
No you don’t. The judge said so. I have the papers right here.
Up. We’ve gotten a little bit sidetracked here. Let’s uh, let’s get back on topic here.
Anyhow, our job here is really to give you a little toast point dipped in the local flavor of Evenfall Hollow, because…
[Phil Sighs]
Where’s the paper Paul?
[robotic pacing and tone]
like a Pringle, once you pop, you won’t be able to stop.
So, you might be wondering what happened to our old town motto.
You know, the whole:
[spooky]
“What happens in the hollow, stays in the hollow.”
on account of the whole nobody ever being to leave thing.
Well, you can thank Vegas. Oh, that’s right, thanks for the reminder Paul.
[clearly enunciated]
“because you won’t want to be anywhere else.”
[Off Mic]
Great catch Paul.
So, basically listeners, the city of Las Vegas sued us over the whole “what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas” slogan a while back and well, they won.
So now as part of the settlement, they get Justin Timberlake, and we aren’t able to say our old slogan without finishing it with “because you won’t want to be anywhere else.” in order to satisfy their copyright.
Well Whoop dee do Vegas. You have mobsters, ridiculous amounts of money, and I dunno, David Caruso. Wait no, that was CSI Miami, and now, our town slogan. Well, you know what? we have…Uhh… We have….
A Bennigan’s! And a Perkins, and I mean we’re free of Justin now , and we also have whatever that majestic stew scented beast was that offered me a bite of chupasanders.
Basically, my point is, stop being a bully Vegas.
Anyways, why don’t we see what’s happening in the hollow?
And also, Paul, isn’t Pringles just gonna to sue us now over our new replacement slogan? I mean it says Pringles right there in the slogan.
[Off Mic]
What?
No, You’re being preachy Paul!
Anyways, uh, let’s… Let’s get to the news.
[Happenings in the Hollow Segment begins. “Dynamic Flow” plays.
Happening in the Hollow today:
Long time Old Hollow resident George Hayden was recently cited for public littering by Mayor Brimley during one of the mayor’s recent morning “I am the Law” walks.
[Off Mic]
What’s that Paul?
No, I agree, he really seems to be trying to find himself lately. I mean, I know that Oatmeal cook-off really made him feel some kind of way, I just wish he’d spend more time trying to find himself in a more constructive way, like the Bonecruncher has been, rather than you know, all up in our business.
You know he gave me a ticket for wearing socks and slides to get my mail the other morning? Does he really have room to judge? I mean the wig he’s wearing makes him look like a twitch streamer that’s about to get exposed for sending inappropriate messages to a minor.
[off Mic]
What’s that Paul. Whats Twitch?
Well it’s… I think it was about video games but now it’s mostly near nudity and having long talks in inflatable pools. Yeah, it’s not really my thing either. I tried it once and everyone made fun of me for eating an ice cream cone in a hot tub so I canceled my account.
Anyways, George was cited when the mayor walked up to him as he was pouring a giant circle of salt around his house. When asked if he was having trouble with some manner of ghost, George replied matter-of-factly that he was actually trying to keep away the mayor himself.
After listing a variety of methods he had previously attempted to repel the mayor with and was subsequently fined for, George figured he’d try something a little more out of the box.
I mean I get it, and Paul is nodding his head as well.
After all, if it will work for a witch or an ancient spirit, then you know, why not for a mayor looking for a purpose at your expense, by trying to cosplay like dog the bounty hunter?
I mean that mullet wig he’s wearing has to be haunted.
Anyways, George also noted the mayor’s high blood pressure, and then mused that perhaps if he were to hang around too long, it might end up being a ghost problem after all, and he knows exactly who he’s gonna call.
Apparently, the mayor walked off shortly after, likely trying to parse exactly what had just been said to him, and whether or not he could write another citation for it.
Now mayor, we all mean well when we say this, but we don’t all have to like what each other likes. Karen loves baking. I love deep fried sandwiches. Paul here loves…
[Off Mic]
What’s that Paul? Stop what? Oh, don’t get all worked up, I wasn’t going to talk about that.
But anyways, my point is, people can like a whole myriad of things, and they don’t all have to align with everyone else’s choices to get along. You love oatmeal, and that’s fine. I do as well, but mostly as a breakfast. And that’s okay. We don’t need to go have a duel.
We love you, Mayor. Well, we love you a bit less these past few days, but to be fair, you’ve really been a lot.
You don’t have to be a Beekeeper, or an MMA Fighter for people to like you. You don’t have to be the guy from Iron Chef. Actually, specifically not ever doing that again would really help.
But really, just be you, Mayor. Be the old, out of touch grump with a near pathological obsession for oats and group water aerobics, and a surprising knack for erotic audio fiction voicing.
[Off Mic]
No, really Paul, it’s haunting.
That’s the mayor we know and love.
And if you wanna try new things, that’s great, but try them because you want to expand your horizons, not so people will think you’re cool. And those new interests don’t need to define you.
Now take off those mirrored sunglasses, put down that airhorn, and tomorrow, maybe just I dunno, spend your morning watching Matlock. It was just an oatmeal cook off. It wasn’t a reflection of what you mean to us.
Oh yeah, and about all the people you paid to walk around town giving out free samples of your new fragrance, can we maybe uh put a stop to that too? I can’t go outside without it smelling like a gun show. And also, I think Muffin’s a little allergic to it because she was sneezing and wheezing, and then the vet gave her like a liquid Benadryl and she just sat there angrily blowing a bubble beard. It was a whole thing.
Phew. Sorry about that. We’ve just all been under a lot of stress since that cook off and the haunting. Okay, where was I? Oh, that’s right, the news.
[Off Mic]
And yes it was paul. I might’ve been haunting myself, but it was a haunting nonetheless.
So, we’ve received an announcement from Redbull that we’ve been selected for their annual Flugtag competition. Honestly, I didn’t even know they still did that, but it sounds like a lot of fun. That said, preparations for the event have been less than smooth.
Thomas Camden, noted aerodynamicist, new hollow resident, and favorite for the event, was looking over the competition site the other day after a nice bike ride through the valley. As he admired the view while enjoying a juneberry flavored Redbull, a Redbull delivery truck pulled in behind him and knocked him off the cliff and down to the troublingly shallow water below. When asked if the Redbull gave him wings, Thomas simply looked down and said “Redbull gave me crutches.” Way to kill the mood, Thomas, geez.
[Main Story Segment Begins. “Sunny Bossa Nova Jazz” Plays.]
Now, normally, this is where we’d start our Local Community Spotlight segment, but Paul has just notified me that my heartfelt plea to the mayor earlier, and yes, a little bit of a rant about Vegas before that, went way over our time allotment for this segment. As a result, it doesn’t look like we’re gonna be able to cover the opening of the new Salt Bae steak house down in New Hollow. Listeners, I extend my sincere apology. I know there was a lot of hype surrounding the opening, and it was not my intention to spoil that for all of you. As an apology, I will be serving steak-umms covered in gold leaf to anyone who’d like to drop by my apartment after the show. If need be, I can also throw handfuls of salt at you as you eat, whatever you need.
[Off Mic]
Yeah Paul, they’re the angus ones. You should come by. Have a steak umm.
[Muffin Meows]
You can have one too Muffin, Calm down.
So, looking at my checklist here, we already said oatmeal three times, so as long as our show runs the normal length or greater, we qualify for those sweet big oat ad bucks.
So, since we can’t just end the show, why don’t I tell everyone a story? What do you think? Yeah?
Okay.
[“Nature Calming” begins to play]
Once upon a time there was a boy. He didn’t have a lot of friends, but that was okay. You see, the boy loved solitude. He loved simply being out in the wilderness. Sure, he enjoyed things like playing a game of soccer in PE, or riding his bike around the neighborhood, but none of that was ever truly his element.
This was because the boy had a very vivid imagination, and one that he could only truly express on his own. And so, he spent much of his time wandering alone through the hills around the valley. It was especially magical during those last few weeks of summer.
You see, this boy lived near the ocean, and as the seasonal climate shifted from a warm, dry summer, to a cooler, wetter autumn, the end of each afternoon would be announced by a churning, coastal fog. There was no better time for the boy then when he would venture out onto the abandoned fields of his elementary school just as that fog began to spill over the hills. It was that brief few seconds, that momentary pause between the heat of the afternoon, and the almost violent onset of the cool, all-encompassing mists, that the boy craved most.
Dogs barking in the distance, the exhaust of an old truck, even the songs of birds, would melt away into the fleeting sunlight. As the fog absorbed all other noises around him, the boy felt like he was crossing over a threshold, traveling from the real world to the plane of his dreams.
As the milky cascade poured into the valley, the boy would simply look out into the distance and a chill of anticipation would travel down his spine. And he would simply stand still and wait.
He was the last human left on earth. He was the lone hero on a quest to save an embattled kingdom from evil. Left to him and the nature abound, the boy could conjure up any story and any world he chose.
And so, on this foggy afternoon, the boy explored the ruins of a strangely abandoned complex. Rust on a chain-link fence beside the concrete reinforced banks of a slow running stream. The creak of a forgotten swing set as it swayed gently in the wind. What stories were told here? What secrets lay buried by time?
But something called to the boy from high in the hills. While he knew not why, he followed the banks of the creek in search of a way up into the hillside. He could hear the sounds of falling water just around the turn. Up the gnarled and exposed roots of a cliffside eucalyptus, the stream continued, and the water grew deeper, and the banks higher.
What was once little more than a trickle, now sprang banks that towered and curled over the boy’s head. Scars of some savage storm or terrible battle, the boy thought to himself. The boy gained traction and climbed up to the soft grassy bank above, and he followed the ribbon of green further in until it twisted back in on itself and climbed into a steep cliff side lined with the mulch of a dozen mild winters. The Boy…
[Music stops playing suddenly.]
No.
[Phil Sighs]
You know what? I’m sorry, but this has been bugging me all day. Can I just vent for a sec?
[“Light Bossa Nova Jazz Seaside Cafe Music” begins to play.]
Okay, so I guess that Abracadaniel guy signed me up for just a ridiculous amount of very niche fashion catalogs, so every morning, my mailbox is practically bursting.
I mean, there is one for if you want to dress like a hot-dog-on-a-stick employee, but goth. Umm… There’s one where everyone is just dressed like hobbits. There’s another one where it’s just a bunch of teenagers dressed like a high school guidance counselor. I’ll be honest, I ordered a few things from some of them, but that isn’t the point.
I go outside and get ticketed by Brimley, and I get a roll-by mustarding by that hot dog guy, and on that note, one of the fashion catalogs catered specifically to food truck workers who appreciate a vintage barbershop quartet aesthetic.
No Paul, that was literally the name of the catalog!
I mean on top of that, Karen is still calling me repeatedly about that NOT haunted piano, and now every night I wake up at 2 in the morning after having nightmares about someone angrily striking a discordant E note on a piano over and over from my kitchen.
I don’t even have room for a piano in there!
And so of course Pastor Glanville has picked this week to start another fight.
Did you not hear about it, Paul? Yeah, it’s when we went to the Arby’s the other day, after the meet on main.
Oh, that’s right, I remember. Yeah, you went and had a fancy dinner with you know who, didn’t you?
No hot lunch meat and nacho cheese for this guy.
But seriously, I’m glad Paul, you deserve it.
[Phil sighs again]
Okay.
Well anyways, I walked in to the Arby’s and the Pastor was just yelling at the poor guy behind the counter. I don’t really know what it was about, but the guy at the register said “Sir, this is an Arby’s” and the Pastor just went berserk.
He grabbed his tray and flipped it like a table, and the guy is just sort of sitting there behind the counter, looking at the Pastor as his finger kind of hovers above the check-out screen. He makes eye contact with the pastor and he asks “So, do you want me to ring up another one, or…?”
The pastor just sort of turned a dark red and started to tremble with rage. He kinda took this slow, shaky breath and then slowly turned to the guy at the register like a cobra getting ready to strike. He’s about to just unload on the guy, but right as he’s opening his mouth, we hear this shrill, nails on a chalkboard kind of fart.
Well, the Pastor just immediately froze with this, well it’s hard to explain, but it’s like that expression someone gets when they’re enjoying a slice of pizza, and they find out mid-bite, that’s its dominos? Like a sort of marrow of the bones kind of self-repulsion because deep inside, they know this is who they are, but it’s laced with a glimmer of acceptance for their new station in life, sort of like, they know they earned it and they’re finally paying the tab?
Well, that face, as he puts another $19.52 on the counter for another order. The guy at the register looks at the money, and asks “so, 3 fish sandwiches or…?” and the pastor quietly grumbles “The other.”
So, after he orders, he just keeps standing there doing this weird non-chalant kind of dance, but only from the waist up, and with his back to the window.
Well I gave it a moment or two of awkward silence, and then went ahead and placed my order. After that, we just sort of waited there in the lobby together.
When he finally got his order he delicately took it with a single outstretched arm, taking care not to bend at the waist, and then started this a sort of scuttling like a crab, with his back still to the wall. Right as he is slinking out of the door though, I asked him if he got extra pickles.
It was just a little joke, but he gave me this sort of “I just saw a ghost doing something I strongly disagree with” expression, and just kinda narrowed his eyes and turned and left.
Well, the minute he gets out the door, he just sort of broke into a sort of gallop, like how I imagine a baby giraffe would run. He got about 20 meters when he just finally stopped, dropped his bag of food, and sat down.
Look Pastor, I mean, I get it. It happens to everyone at least once at an Arby’s, it’s just one of those unspoken rule things. But I felt bad, so I got him the same order, and brought it over to his church the other day, as a way of just saying “Hey, I understand.” And he just yelled at me for a good 25 minutes.
You know, I thought at one time that I could probably never be a pastor, given my colorful language when stressed. After what I heard come out of the Pastor’s mouth, I think maybe I have a future career path if this tourism gig doesn’t work out.
Well, needless to say it was very hurtful, and also a bit… confusing? You see he’s eating this sandwich while he yells at me. He was like some sort of meat ventriloquist, his voice remained clear and angry even with his mouth full, and really the only way you could tell he was eating was the spray of brisket fragments that would rain from his mouth whenever he said the word [Censor Beep], and he said it a lot!
Well, the too long, didn’t read version of all that is basically “Pastor, nobody cares if you got an Arby’s Meat mountain sandwich instead of fish on lent. You see, the town doesn’t care what you do in your bedroom, And yes, we know you eat in your bedroom, because you live in a studio apartment, and we don’t care if that fits our individual moral guideline. Clutching your pearls over that sort of thing is really more of your thing.
So, you know, eat what you want. Believe what you want. And be who you want. But allow others to do the same. And also, [Censor Beep] your mother.
[pivot back to this line said with normal inflection like nothing just happened]
Well, that’s it for this episode of greetings from Evenfall Hollow. I’m your host Phil, and together with my Pa Paul, and our office cat Muffin, we wish you a good night, and a hearty go [Censor beep] yourself to Pastor Glanville.
Patreon is how we eat. If you can, please support the making of this show. https://www.patreon.com/EHBT
A Production of Windborne Press/Ruu Mckinney.