Well, hey there, strangers and story lovers.
It's your old buddy, Randy. Coming to you live
-ish from a borrowed mic in a folding chair that's
been squeaking since I sat down. Welcome back
to Cold Reads Hot Takes, Episode 2. Now, for
those of y 'all just tuning in, this ain't your
average podcast. No, sir. Over at the voice support
community, we've got emotional ventriloquists,
actors, tail wranglers, writers, button -pushing
wizards, sound designers, and the occasional
sleep -deprived mood mechanic. Compulsors. All
banded together to cook up original audio drama
like it's a backyard barbecue. Every line you
hear was written by a human being and recorded
by someone who probably tripped over their cat
halfway through. Now, folks always ask me, Randy,
how'd you get involved in all this? Well, truth
be told, I showed up to the wrong Zoom meeting
looking for a used lawnmower, and the next thing
I know, I'm hosting a show with a theme song.
And here we are. Anyway, today we're serving
up stories that have a little mystery, a little
bite, and a whole lot of style. They got the
kind of twist that makes you sit back and go,
huh, that was oddly therapeutic. So, without
further delay, here's our first tale of the night.
Enjoy Your Sleigh. Written by the chef who also
made the soup for my ears, Brady Flanagan. Brooke
is voiced by Allison Cossett. And Mr. Sevelin
by Floyd Kennedy. It's a story about how life,
with all its messes and missteps, sometimes leads
two very different folks to the same strange
place. Whether they're meant to go there or not.
So grab a snake, adjust your headphones, and...
Enjoy your sleigh. Oh come on, answer the door.
Enter. Oh, hey. I live in the pink house across
the street. I just wanted to come over and welcome
you to the neighborhood. Jeez, it sure is dark
in here. Just the way I like it. Oh, my God.
Brooke. Brooke Winters. Is that you? Wait. Your
voice sounds awful familiar. Oh, sorry. Better.
Mistress Evelyn? No way. What are the odds? I
know, right? The mistress of the vampires moved
into the home across the street of the monster
hunter who chased her for years. Please, sit,
sit. How have you been? Oh, you know, tale as
old as time. I was in top fighting shape. Slayed
my way through most of Northern California while
working part -time at the weenie on a stick in
the mall. Captain of the high school drill team.
Fulfilled prophecies, yada yada. Then, back in
2002, my friends and I faced off against this
eldritch demon thing. Like tentacles coming out
of a wolf head on the body of a frog. No way.
That's Edward. We were in an ICQ chat together.
He was seriously obsessed with the Golden Girls.
And he gave me a blood pudding recipe that's
to die for. Yeah, well, he was also kidnapping
senior citizens from the nursing homes and turning
them into very slow -moving zombies that spat
acid. You know, I always said we need to give
senior citizens more credit as possible prey.
But no, the Vampire Council always said it was
a bridge too far. But yet nothing was done to
stop Vladislav when he turned that entire sixth
grade field trip. No one ever respects their
elders. Amen, sister. Tea? Oh yeah, please. Anywho,
we found an ancient ritual that sent him back
to his hell dimension or whatever and restored
the seniors back to themselves. All was well,
except I missed my econ final, my GPA dropped,
and I lost my scholarship. So I thought to myself,
is all of this worth it? The world was fine for
centuries without me, and they'll be fine again.
Even if I am the chosen one. I hung up my steak
and crucifix and moved out here with my husband.
Husband? Anyone I would know. This is awkward,
given our history together, but, well, it's Blake
Lyman. Lyman. Lyman. Oh! That one red -headed
kid that always wore those jeans with the ridiculously
large pockets. Um, yay. But didn't I... Yeah,
yeah. You killed him. Then how? Well, his soul
got trapped in an amulet, and then we transferred
it into a secret experimental government robot.
Your adventures got a bit far -fetched there
towards the end, didn't they? Yeah. I figured
you villains were running out of ideas. Oh, maybe.
I got out of the game myself back in 09. These
new hunters have completely forgotten the pageantry
of the game. No banter, no tricks, just straight
to stabby stabby. I lost interest. Now I just
make knickknacks out of seashells that I find
and sell them on Etsy. Those cellar fees. And
they say I'm evil. So, is that some sort of welcome
meal that you brought? Yeah, but you probably
don't want it. It's a casserole that's pretty
garlic forward. Oh, thanks for the warning. Well,
I better get going. I was supposed to pick up
some oil for Blake. His knee joint has been squeaking
something fierce. Of course, of course. Oh, wait.
Let me grab something for you. Ah, there we go.
Conch shell. Perfect. Here. Oh, no. I can't take
this. Oh, come on. Look at the inscription on
the back. Sorry for giving you shell. Welcome
to the neighborhood, Mistress Evelyn. Thank you,
Brooke Winters. Feel free to come over any time.
Well now, I tell you what. If that first tale
didn't make the hairs on your arms do a little
synchronized swimming, then either your soul's
broke or your speakers are. Big thank you again
to all the fine folks who put that together.
I still don't trust Mr. Saverlyn, but, hey, I
respect her wardrobe choices. Up next, we got
a tale that, oh, boy, might feel a little too
close for a home for some of us emotionally unprepared
romantics. This one's called Can't Catch Up,
written by Steve Lloyd, with sound wrangling
by Brady Flanagan, and the mighty fine voice
work of Catherine Pipp as Maya and Brady himself
as James. Now, this story's got heartbreak. It's
got reflection. And it's got that real uncomfortable
kind of truth that snakes up on you when you're
sitting alone in the Taco Bell parking lot wondering
where it all went wrong. Sometimes, love don't
go where you plant. Sometimes, a U -turn blows
a tire and leaves you sitting on the roadside
of your own bad decisions. And sometimes, well...
Sometimes you just run face first into that big
old emotional wall like a goose flying into a
window. So grab a drink, sit back, and prepare
to feel a little exposed in your feelings. Because
this next one's going to cut deep. But in a good
way. Like emotional exfoliation. This is Can't
Catch Up. And folks, you're about to hear a heartbreak
sandwich served on a toasted bun of regret. With
a side of maybe I should have done therapy sooner.
I laugh because it's uncomfortable. I can't do
this anymore, James. I can't. You are not doing
this, Maya. I'm not letting you walk out. You
think it's that easy? You just give up? After
everything? After everything. After you promised
me we'd fight for us. You promised. But I'm the
only one still trying to hold this thing together.
Hold it together? You think I don't know that?
You think I'm some idiot who's blind to it? Look,
I know I messed up, okay? But... But you! You
never stopped looking at me like I was already
gone. It's like nothing I did could ever be enough.
You're damn right! Nothing you did was enough,
James. You didn't show up when I needed you most.
You disappeared. You left me all alone with this
mess we built. I didn't leave you. I was right
here the whole damn time. But you, you just,
you shut me out. You think I wanted to screw
this up? I'm trying. I am. But I can't do it
alone, okay? You already left. Every time you
picked that damn drink over me. Every time you
decided to disappear into your head, you left.
And I was... I was here, James. Waiting. Always
waiting for you to come back to me. I never meant
to hurt you, Maya. I never meant to... I'm broken.
I know I am. But I want to fix it. I want to
fix us. I don't know if I believe you anymore.
I don't. I can't keep waiting for something that
never comes. You said you'd change, but you...
You can't catch up. Please. Can you? Don't say
that. Don't say it's over. I... I can't live
with that. Don't you see? I am trying. I'm not
perfect. I know that, but... I love you so damn
much. I don't know if I can love you anymore,
James. Not like this. Not after everything. Every
time I see you, I see the man I used to love,
but he's... He's slipping away. And I don't know
how to reach him anymore. You don't have to reach
me, Maya. I'm right here. I've always been right
here. Please, don't give up on me. On us. I'm
trying. I am trying. But you're too far gone,
James. You have been too far gone for so long.
And I can't keep waiting for you to come back.
I can't keep... I can't keep losing myself while
I wait for you to find your way back. to me maybe
maybe we were never meant to be maybe we've both
been holding on to something that was already
gone maya don't don't leave me i swear i'll change
i'll do whatever it takes just just don't walk
out that door I think I already left a long time
ago. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Maya. I never meant
for it to end like this. But it did, James. It
did. People change when you're not looking. I'm
standing here. In the rain. And I can't... I
can't seem to make sense of anything. What am
I supposed to do now? What do I even want anymore?
All I've ever done is chase after something I
thought I could fix, but... I was never fixing
anything. I was just breaking it more. I wasn't
fixing her. I wasn't fixing us. I was just holding
on to the hope that maybe, maybe if I tried hard
enough, maybe if I promised enough times, she'd
believe me. Believe that I could change. Believe
that I could be the man she thought I was. But
she... She doesn't see me that way anymore. How
could she? How could anyone love someone so...
lost? I used to think I was good at something.
Anything. I used to think I could hold it together.
Hold us! Together! But now... Now I don't even
recognize the person I've become. I look at myself
in the mirror and... It's like I'm staring at
a stranger. I'm not who I used to be. I'm not
who she used to love. God, I... It wasn't enough.
All those nights I stayed out, all those nights
I chose everything else over her. I couldn't
stop. I thought I could outrun it. I thought
maybe if I could just keep going, kept moving,
it wouldn't catch up to me. But it did. It always
does. The guilt. It follows me everywhere. And
it's crushing me. Every time I think I've done
enough, and maybe I've changed, it's never enough.
I never am enough. promises, Maya. I promised
you I'd be the one you could rely on. I could
even be the one I could rely on. I told you I'd
fight, but I didn't fight. I hid. I ran. Now
I've lost you. I've lost you because I didn't
believe in myself, let alone in us. I didn't
believe in what we had anymore. I was too scared
to face it. I was scared to fix it. And now you're
gone. And I'm standing here. Alone. With nothing
but this weight I can't shake off. I used to
think if I just tried harder, everything would
fall into place. That the love we had would be
enough to make it all work. But love, it's not
enough if you are not hold first. You can't love
someone else when you don't even know who you
are. I thought, I thought if I tried hard enough
to keep it together, I wouldn't fall apart. But
I did. And now I can't catch up to what I've
lost. Fire. I don't know how to fix this. I don't
know how to be the man you wanted me to be. I
don't even know who that man is anymore. I've
hurt you. I've pushed you away. I let my fears
control me, and in the process, I've lost. God!
I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to
break you. But I... And now it's too late. How
do I fix this when I've already broken it? How
do I fix myself when I don't even know where
to start? I should have been there, Maya. I should
have been there for you. I should have seen you.
Seen your pain. And instead, I was too caught
up in my own... Now I'm standing here. All I
can hear is your voice. In my head, telling me
I'm too late. I thought I could fight for us.
But maybe... Maybe you were right. Maybe we were
already gone. And I was just too afraid to admit
it. Too afraid to face the truth. I've always
been running. Hiding from what I needed to see.
Hiding from the person I've become. Hiding from
you. I don't know how to do this. I don't know
how to live without you. I don't know how to
fix me. And I don't know how to fix us. I just...
I can't get up. I can't get up to who you need.
Me. I'm sorry. Whew. If that didn't get you in
the fails, well, you might just be a traffic
cone with a Spotify account. That was like watching
someone try to fix a flat tire with a soup spoon.
Painful? Honest. And a little messy. Heartbreak
will do that to a person. Makes you look deep
inside and say, Well, dang. That went sideways
fast. But if that was a gut punch, this next
one's the haymaker. Let me tell y 'all a little
bit about a matter of blood. Now this story right
here is about a fellow who got wrong so bad,
he didn't just let it go. Nope. He sharpened
his reason. Tightened his jaw. and got to work.
It's for veins. Served like a well -aged brisket.
Hot, slow, and smothered in just enough I told
you so. Blood might be thicker than water, but
it turns out, so is arsenic. And this tale knows
how to pour it just right. Story's written by
Daniel Hurst. Sound shaped with precision by
Matt Ruckstar. A .J. Fadago gives voice to Claudette's...
And Gregory Dwyer takes on Duke Jackler. Together,
they ain't holding back. So, grab your sweet
tea, scoot up close, and listen in. This one's
got bite. They says, a matter of blood. Jackler?
Clauditch? What are you doing here? Can't a brother
just want to catch up with family? You could.
But you're not any longer. And we were never
brothers. The codes disagree when I married your
sister. But there's not a single drop of shared
blood between us. The codes can say whatever
they like on the subject. It doesn't make it
so. Now let me ask again. What do you want? You
and your silly semantics. But regardless, my
men and I were thirsty, so we thought we would
give you a little patronage. And it seems you
could use it if this is what passes for your
regulars. Coming right up. Anything for family.
I didn't think my fares were up to your standards.
Didn't you once say my ale wasn't worthy to be
even compared to the king's piss? Perhaps so.
But then again, few things except for a proper
vintage can be. I suppose so. Now, why don't
you tell me why you're really here? Your presence
might give this place the wrong reputation. Very
well. Well, Melf is my wife. My sister. When
your sister, my wife, perished, the codes would
give her estate to her husband, except when a
blood relative lives, in which case 40 % would
be given to her closest relative. In other words,
you. Hmm. That sounds like the law to me. Meaning
that because she has died, I owe you 40 % of
my family's duchi. You have essentially pilfered
my property as means to compensate for this degenerate
lifestyle you carry. That would be one way of
putting it. I'm here to offer you one chance.
Relinquish your code -given right to Malfus inheritance,
and your life will be spared. As well as this
shit -stained establishment. I'm sorry, are you
threatening me? Yes. Well, see, that isn't going
to work. Because the codes say that in the case
that the husband were to die, all the estate
goes to the closest blood relative. And you're
an only child, correct, Duke Jackler? You think
you can scare me, fleabag? You're nothing more
than a mosquito. All you lowlifes are. Then why
did you marry my sister? If we're all slime beneath
your shoe, then why lower yourself to our level?
Well, I... She... It was a mistake. Melfis was
a mistake, and only now I realize it. So, are
you going to waive your rights, or is there going
to be an accident today? It's already happened.
Excuse me? Did you know my ale is made from apples?
Apples make a lot of seeds, and there is a very...
Peculiar poison found in those seats. One that
isn't hard to add to a drink. I... Did you think
I wouldn't recognize how Malthus wasted away?
You killed her. Because what, you were bored
with her? And now you try to threaten me so you
can tidy up your mess? I hope you enjoyed your
free ale. It'll be the last one you have. There
was a time I would have loved to have known you
as a brother. But that was never what you wanted.
And never more will it be so. That one had more
bite than a barbed wire hammock. Now, a matter
of blood. Now, that was justice with extra gravy.
Now, I ain't saying I condone vengeance, but
sometimes you just gotta remind folks that payback
don't always show up in court. Sometimes it knocks
on your front porch where a muddy boot's in the
grain. All right, now. Wipe the sweat off your
brow and fix your hair, because next ride's about
to take off. Literally. This next tale is called
Snakes on a Plate. Now hold up. It ain't that
movie with the shouting and the reptiles and
coats. No, sir. This one's deeper. What about
the snakes we carry inside? The ones wearing
smiles and making polite conversation while gnawing
at your insides like a raccoon in a lunchbox.
It takes a lot to make a man take off the old
emotional welding mask and face what's really
going on under the hood. But that's what we've
got here. Sorry about saying behind your own
mask. And sometimes learning that altitude don't
help when you're already feeling low. Snakes
on a Plane was written by Brady Flanagan. Sound
whipped and saved by Andy Wardlaw. And Matt Ruckstar
voicing James and Allison Clark as Alicia. And
let me tell you, these two bring some serious
turbulence to your earbuds. So buckle up, folks.
No tray tables, no peanuts. Just a whole lot
of truth crews in that 30 ,000 fight. This is
Snakes on a Plate. Excuse me, madam. Hello there.
Excuse me. What? Dreadfully sorry, ma 'am. But
I just wanted to know if this seat is occupied.
Hey, Dorcas. Do you understand how planes work?
Assigned seating? Oh, I know, I know. It's just
the woman in the seat next to me started breastfeeding,
and I want to be respectful. Excuse me? So I
decided to stay away. That woman is feeding her
child a beautiful miracle of nature, and you're
shaming her? You stay the hell away from me.
Go sit in the bathroom floor crying for the rest
of the flight. Alicia, end simulation. Of course,
James. Though, for what it's worth, this was
your third most successful attempt. I don't know.
Did you have to make her such a - Watch yourself,
James. Not nice person? The world is not nice,
James. I would be doing a disservice if I were
to provide an unreal simulation. Was the British
voice too much? Per my calculations, there was
only a 2 .3 % chance that someone would have
fallen for that voice. You tend to elongate your
O's too long. Any better? You sound a bit like
a cartoon. Additionally, bringing up public breastfeeding
as a way to shame is widely considered a faux
pas. But I was being respectful. I'm sorry. I
shouldn't argue with an AI. No, you should not.
Restarting simulation. Ending simulation. What
in the hell was that? I don't know. I was trying
to seem aloof and mysterious. James, imagine
that I have eyes. Now imagine them rolling. Bravo.
You deserve a cake. Restarting simulation. Shh.
I'm not here. Excuse me? Somehow the paparazzi
knew I would be here. My assistant must have
tipped them off or something. I'm sorry. Who
are you supposed to be? You don't recognize me?
How about this angle? Ending simulation. Oh,
come on. I was on to something that time. I assure
you that you were not. I can show you the data.
If you look at screen 17, you will see a chart
showing your complete ineptitude at deception.
It is, quite honestly, embarrassing. Come on.
Is there anything that I'm good at? What are
my strengths? Hard truth. This is all futile.
Your chance at success is next to null. I have
to, Alicia. My flight leaves in two and a half
hours. I can't show up to another Thanksgiving
at Mom's alone. Not again. Bruce throws around
the fact that he's the son that has given her
a grandchild. Me? Oh, Mom. You know, I just spend
all day every day talking to my AI that I designed.
I don't know how to talk to people. I'm a joke,
Alicia. And how exactly is accosting young women
on a plane improving the situation? I don't know,
but it's a hell of a lot better than being alone.
You can strike up a love connection on a plane.
I've watched enough rom -coms to know how it
works. Romantic comedies written by men. So what?
Run the simulation again. No. Alicia. I'm afraid
I can't do that, James. Ha, did you see what
I did there? Ha ha ha. I swear that I'll download
so much malware into your servers, I have some
adult Russian websites just itching for a visit.
James, women want you to get to know them, listen
to them, help them, talk to them, commiserate
over wins, mourn over losses. Not shout one -liners
on a connecting Delta flight en route to Iowa.
Be real. I don't know how. Yes, you do. You do
it with me every day. That's different. How?
Why is it that when I put on a face like this
and modulate my voice to sound more like a natural
human, you suddenly try to put on a character?
People don't want a character. They want to get
to know you. I don't think they do. James, I
literally know you better than you know yourself.
You are worthy to know. Don't worry about your
mom. Don't worry about Bruce. Just be you. Even
alone, you are worthy of praise. Don't ever forget
that. Well, folks, that's all the stories we
got for this episode. But before I let y 'all
go, I gotta tell you something that's been burning
a hole in my brain like a possum in a deep fryer.
It's about my cousin Daryl. Now, bless his thick
skull and confused heart. Now, Daryl, and I say
this with love, is about as sharp as a bowling
ball in a knife fight. This is a man who once
tried to plug a USB into a toaster and then blamed
the grid. But somehow, this fella keeps landing
dates like he's a good -looking discount coupon
floating through town. So, the other night, he
tells me he met this gal named Luanne down at
the Sunico. Said she was buying six cans of fancy
-faced and one singular glove. Not a pair. One.
Now, most folks would raise an eyebrow. Maybe
even call it animal control. But not Daryl. No,
sir. He said, So mysterious. I like it in a woman
here. Which is the same thing he said about a
woman who once tried to sell him homemade windshield
wiper fluid. From a baby bottle. So. He takes
her to that little Italian place by the courthouse.
The one that serves spaghetti, except like old,
worn -out shoelaces. They're sitting there, chatting.
And Luanne, she starts making the slow growl
like she's detecting seismic activity. Then,
she hisses. Not like a sassy lady trying to make
a point hiss. No, no, no, no. More like a wild
animal trying to protect a clutch of invisible
legs. Now, Daryl, cool as ever. Just leans back
and says, It's just how she purrs. Eh, I don't
think he knows how purring works. Then, it gets
wilder. So she scoots her chair back. And wouldn't
you know it, he sees it. A tail! Not like a cute
little cosplay thing, neither. No, sir. This
thing looked like a chewed -up extension cord
dipped in Vaseline. Just hanging there, like
it had opinions. Now, Daryl, most men would have
run. He just nods like it's Tuesday and says,
Well, at least she's warm -blooded. Like that's
been a real issue in his daily life. She tells
him brunch makes her itchy and that she only
eats under the moon. Then when the check comes,
she full -on plays dead. I mean, full dramatic
flop. Eyes roll back, arms limp like she was
getting evaluated for a taxidermy class. The
waiter panics. Daryl. Panics! The manager comps
some mail like he's dealing with a liability
case. And Daryl! He walks out of there beaming,
says, That was the most romantic night I ever
had. Why didn't I even get caked out? And now
he's taking her to the landfill next weekend.
Says it's got a view. And she likes the buzzards.
Whatever keeps the fire burning, I reckon. Now,
I love my cousin. I really do, but I am 137 %
sure his girlfriend ain't from around here. Or
really, anywhere with a zip code. Well, y 'all,
that about puts a tail on the raccoon for this
episode of Cold Reach Hot Takes, brought to you
by the fine, strange, and occasionally sleep
-deprived folks over at the voice support community.
We had heartbreak, snakes on planes, blood thicker
than a gas station milkshake, and folks falling
in love under questionable circumstances. And
that... is our baby. And if this was your first
time listening, welcome! If it's your second
time, I reckon you might be developing questionable
taste. Either way, we're glad you're here. Now
I know, I know, I like to cut up and make jokes.
But let me get serious for a moment. Just like
one of them movie dads who suddenly knows how
to use a fishing pole at the end. If you're struggling,
feelin' low. Or fighting a battle that no one
else sees. Reach out. You ain't alone. Talk to
somebody. Whether it's your mama, a friend, a
possum whisperer, or a hotline. Just... Just
talk. The world's a strange, loud, messy place.
And you ain't gotta walk through it by yourself.
Trust me. Even the weird ones. Especially the
weird ones. Deserve love. laughter, and someone
to share their bologna sandwich with. Now, we
do this show for fun, for the stories, and most
of all, for the folks out there who need a little
reminder that life's still full of surprises.
Some of them hiss. Some of them cry. Some of
them sound like the Duke wearing a velvet cake.
And some, like tonight, just make you smile and
think, well, I'll be darned. So till next time,
keep your heart open, your mind weird, and your
cousin away from the microwave when there's foil
involved. This has been Cold Reach Hot Takes,
and I've been Randy, your unofficial host, unpaid
philosopher, and proud owner of three working
extension cords and a meat smoker named Rhonda.
See y 'all on the next one. I'm 387 % gonna be
there.