I tell you what, I can't believe Randy would
tell me to do something like that. He knows how
I am. I wonder if this thing is bugged or not.
Well, there's only one real way to find out we
got to take it apart My goodness all this government
tape I tell you what there we go Okay, yeah,
well yeah, nope that looks like Mike to me yeah,
I guess I'll just put that back Right y 'all
keep voices down I Know what day it is and I
know what they want us to believe it's about
cheer joy Family yada yada, but I've been doing
some research and Bob research I mean watching
a late -night YouTube videos uploaded by a guy
named bone 13 who definitely knows too much see
Randy ain't here because he's out there in the
Arctic Circle. Or possibly just northern Michigan.
Looking for proof that Santa Claus is real. But
not that jolly gift -bringing Santa they show
you in the commercials. Oh, no. I'm talking about
the real one. The immortal Tollbearer who's been
running a global surveillance network since the
1800s. You think that naughty and nice list is
cute? That's data collection, pal. He's the original
social media. Now Louie and her boyfriend Darryl
are doing couple stuff Probably drinking peppermint
lattes and ignoring the chemtrails down at the
landfill Meanwhile, I've been here connecting
the dots between Santa Bigfoot And the disappearance
of my cousin's drone last winter It's all connected.
I'm telling you. Anyway, while Randy's off infiltrating
the North Pole and I'm waiting for my aluminum
foil hat to finish in the dryer, I'll be hosting
Cold Reed's Hot Takes. We got stories tonight.
Real ones. The kind that make you question everything
you know about love, life, and why all snowmen
have that same... Aunt Settling smiled. Now the
first story tonight, Gluttony. Written by Steve
Lloyd and performed by Tyler Moody and Gregory
Dwyer. With sound design by Brady Flanagan. Well,
it's about hunger. But not just the kind that
makes you reach for leftovers at 2 a .m. I'm
talking that deep. Soul level none. The kind
that makes you crave things that might not even
exist. I read once that hunger's how the shadow
people find you. You start feeding that emptiness,
and they start feeding on you. Happens every
holiday in my cousin's basement. You'll see what
I mean. So grab your cocoa, make sure it ain't
bugged. And settle in, because Old Buck's got
theories. And by the end of this episode, you'll
either be enlightened or on a list. Probably
Santa's. I get it started. And then I get brokenhearted.
I can't get a hold of it. I can't get a hold
of it. It's like I'm blind. Running out of time.
Everything I crave is out of reach. You say I
eat too much. You say I drink too much. You say
I smoke too much. So what am I supposed to do?
I want to escape and clear my mind. Remove the
guilt and pain. I want it. I want it. I want
it. I need it. I need it. I need it. I love it.
I love it. I love it. Chaser, you're doing it
again. Doing what? What do you mean? You're consuming
again. You're trying to drown it out. It won't
work. I need it. I need it. I need this. Whatever
this is. More than I need anything else. You
think you want it. But it's not real. You're
feeding it. Feeding it inside of you. Stop! You
don't understand. You don't know what it's like.
I want it. I need it. I love it. The hunger has
started. I can't stop. You're fed it. Again.
I wanted it. I needed it. I loved it, Natalie.
This isn't you. This thing. Whatever it is, it's
taking over. You have to stop feeding it. You
have to stop before it... I can't. I can't stop.
It's too much. I need more. It won't stop. It
won't leave me alone. I want it. I need it. I
love it. It feels so good. Jason, no. You don't
understand. This isn't you. It's changing you.
Don't you feel it? Don't you hear it? I can't
stop. I won't stop. Come. Come to me. Jason,
please. You need to fight it. You're not yourself
anymore. The more you take, the more it grows.
It's feeding off you. Feeding off your need.
You're trapped in this cycle. You think I'm trapped?
No, no, no, no. This is freedom. It's everything
I've ever wanted. It's... Listen to me. You have
to stop. You have to stop eating. Don't... Let
it consume you. I don't... I don't know anymore.
It's too strong. I can't... I can't stop. I want
it. I need it. I love it. No. Jason. Please.
No. Please. Let me have it. Let me consume it.
Eat it. More than anything. No, no, no. This
isn't real. You're... You're... You're here.
You're... With me. You're alive? I've been here
all along. With you. But you keep running. Running
from what you did. No, I can't. I can't lose
you again. I can't let you go. I need you. Please.
You already lost me, Jason. You lost me when
you couldn't let go of the pain. When you couldn't
stop feeding on it. No! No, don't leave me. Please.
I need you. I need you. I couldn't let go. I
couldn't stop the hunger. I thought if I kept
feeding, if I kept consuming, it would fill the
emptiness. But it never did. It was never enough.
It never... It never filled me. It only made
it worse. You never fed the right thing. You
only fed the pain. I was... I was trying to drown
the pain, but I never realized the hunger was
the pain. I wanted to escape, but I kept living.
I kept hurting. I wanted to escape, but I kept
living. I kept hurting. You can't outrun it,
Jason. The hunger. The pain. It never ends. I
want it. I want it. I want it. I need it. I need
it. I need it. I love it. I love it. I love it.
it is again. You hear that? That click sound?
That ain't my mic. That surveillance means the
government, or worse, Target is listening again.
Yeah, you laugh, but I seen the documents. Operation
Red Sleigh declassified for about 12 minutes
in 2004. Anyway, if Randy were here, he'd tell
me to stick to the story, Buck. But see, that's
how they get you. They lull you in with entertainment.
Then they sneak in the subliminal messages about
holiday spirit and limited time offers. You ever
notice how Kmart commercials from the 80s had
the same jingle cadence as NASA launch codes?
Yeah, I ran the waveform. It's identical. Coincidence?
Not in my America. Now while the first store
is still settling in your stomach, our next store
might stir up some suppressed memories from your
childhood shopping trips. The Kmart Wars. The
sock rebellion, written by Steve Lloyd and performed
by Shawn Lopez and Allison Cossack, with sound
design by Matt Mungum. This one takes place back
in the 1980s, when every Kmart was basically
a Cold War command center disguised as a discount
retailer. Those little blue flashing lights above
the aisles, not sales alerts, tracking beacons.
They were monitoring spinning habits, resistance
patterns, even static electricity levels. You
think it's a joke, but those Mrs. Socks from
your dryer, that's not laundry air, friend. That's
desertion. So while the mainstream media tells
you retail collapse was about Amazon, old Buck
here knows better. It was the Great Sock Rebellion.
They rose up, refused to match, and vanished
into the ventilation system. Anyway, get ready.
Because what you're about to hear isn't just
a story. It's a classified retail history. You
know, Debbie, it's absolutely amazing how Kmart
has managed to capture the essence of modern
consumerism while simultaneously offering absolutely
no intellectual stimulation. It's like the postmodern
version of Plato's Allegory of the Cave, but
with discounted socks. Please, Rick. If you're
trying to sound like you're still in grad school,
just know your argument is about as convincing
as a mullet at a Yale reunion. I mean, these
socks? They're practically Philosopher's Stone's
material. I'm a solid 25 % off. Oh, come on.
You wouldn't understand. You were too busy writing
papers in the fall of the Soviet Union to appreciate
the profundity of Kmart's corporate existence.
Oh, sure. Because grasping the complexities of
capitalism is so hard when your main job is scanning
barcodes. Honestly, working here is like being
stuck in those low -budget movies where the heroes
are rocking plaid pants and the villains are
sporting scrunchies in their hair. Real highbrow
stuff. You're just bitter because you chose to
abandon academia for cheap electronics and vintage
bedazzled jean jackets. I bet your thesis on
medieval Europe could have been the next war
and peace if you weren't so busy tossing VHS
tapes into a cart. And you think your unspoken
dissertation on Folkhalt's theories would really
change the world? Oh, please. If anything, you'd
just sit around talking about it while you tried
to figure out how to properly fold a windbreaker.
Which, let me remind you, still looks stupid.
Windbreakers are a postmodern fashion statement.
I'm basically a trendsetter. At least I'm not
rocking those neon -colored pants that scream,
I'm one bad decision away from being unsaved
by the bell. Yeah, well, at least I'm not still
living in 1985 like you're a haircut. Did you
get that look from a Miami Vice rerun? Well,
at least I have a full set of actual hair and
not a sparse rat's nest like you. Oh! Oh! Oh,
you did not just call my hair a rat's nest. That's
it. Game on. You may have had a philosophy degree,
but I have a history degree, and you just stepped
into a whole new era, bub. You're about to experience
the downfall of Rick, the overcompensating intellectual.
Oh, oh no, oh, oh please, what are you gonna
do? What are you, you gonna lecture me on the
French Revolution and hope I'll bow down to your
intellectual superiority? How charming. No, I'm
going to pull the ultimate move. I'm going...
To organize the socks section. Wow, truly a brilliant
plan. I'll just stand back and watch as you,
what, alphabetize the socks? Oh, the socks are
now properly sorted. The revolution has begun!
No, oh no. No, no, no. You're going to be shocked
when I bring order to this chaotic mess. Do you
know how long it's been since anyone cared about
the socks section? Yeah. That's right. It's been
sitting here like Cold War era propaganda. Nobody
respects the socks, but I? I am going to change
that. The unsung heroes of retail will have their
day. Yes, yeah, you'll be the Mahatma Gandhi
of Kmart's hosiery. Truly a battle of the ages.
Oh, wait, wait, wait, hold on, hold on, hold
on. Wait, you're actually going to do this? You
bet. I'm going to sort out this section like
it's a goddamn Soviet archive. One sock at a
time. Wait, no, no, no, no, no. No, no, no, no.
Not the socks. Oh, and by the way, I'm bringing
in some revolutionary change to the candy aisle,
too. You might want to start planning your exit
strategy. Wait, wait, wait. What are you talking
about? You don't have a degree in candy. You
can't just... Watch me, Rick. Watch me. All right.
You got the socks. But you will never break me.
Never. Oh, Rick. Rick, Rick, Rick. You're already
broken. You just don't know it yet. Wait, you
think you've won, don't you? Organizing socks
like you've cracked the code to retail enlightenment?
But mark my words, Debbie. You're just rearranging
deck chairs on the Titanic. When the inevitable
collapse of Kmart happens, and trust me, it will,
you'll have nothing but perfectly lined up socks
to console you. Oh, I'm sure you've got plenty
of theories to explain why Kmart's demise is
inevitable. Do you have a book in the works called
The Decline of the Kmart Empire? A Philosophical
Analysis? Maybe you can get Focalt to write the
foreword. Focalt would weep. The way this place
is run... Everything is just one long, shallow,
neoliberal consumerist cycle. A metaphor for
the endless labyrinth of... You don't care, do
you? No, not really. Honestly, you could be talking
about quantum physics right now, and I'd still
be thinking about how to organize the Crayola
Isle without giving myself a headache. But you
know what? You do have a point. This place is
a metaphor. A metaphor for the dystopian future.
Oh, a dystopian future. Now we're getting somewhere.
See, this is exactly what I'm talking about.
The implosion of the middle class. The disintegration
of communities. The great existential void that
is Kmart. Wow. That's some serious late -night,
highbrow college dorm talk right there. You ever
wonder if maybe, just maybe... We're the ones
stuck in the void. Maybe we're just tiny cogs
in a great, massive discount machine. Ah, yes,
the old discount machine theory. So we're nothing
more than interchangeable gears existing solely
to support a corporate behemoth that... Wait
a second. What? Are you pulling a fast one on
me? Are you intentionally trying to sound like
you care about my theories just to throw me off
balance? Who, me? No. I just feel that if we're
going to waste our lives selling tape dispensers
and suntan lotion to people who can barely pronounce
Kmart, we might as well make it interesting.
Huh. That's almost deep. Are you secretly a Dadaist
or something? You're like... Purposely engaging
with absurdity? Okay, you know what? I'm starting
to get your whole vibe. Are you in the resistance
or not? If by resistance you mean the underground
army of people trying to survive in a capitalist
wasteland, then yes, Rick. Yes, I am. In fact,
I'm like the Jean -Paul Sartre of this Kmart.
Always making choices that bring me closer to
the authentic self. Well, shelving socks. Wait
a minute, did you just compare yourself to Sartre
at Kmart? Wow, this day just took a turn. You
are either the most brilliant, tortured intellectual
I've ever met, or the most tragic case of Miss
Potential. I think it's pretty clear which one
I am. But hey, I have neon scrunchies and slouchy
socks to help me cope. You know what they say
about existential dread, right? It goes really
well with a good pair of high -top Reeboks. The
customer is the bourgeois. Hey, can I help you
with something? Are you in need of socks? Or
perhaps you're searching for the meaning of life,
wrapped in a discounted polyester blend. Perhaps
a little late -stage capitalism crisis on aisle
five. Ah, yes. In the end, it's all just socks,
isn't it? The endless search for purpose and
the eternal struggle for order amidst the chaos
of socks. And yet, there's something about sorting
them into neat rows that just feels so satisfying,
don't you think? It's like we're doing something
important, even when we're not. You know, I may
hate this place, but you've got a weird cynical
charm. Thanks. Not everyone can handle the intellectual
might of a college dropout with a history degree.
Hey, fair enough. But remember, while you've
conquered Sox, I've still got the VHS section
in my sights. This war is far from over. Oh,
you think you've won, huh? Just wait until I
organize the clearance file like the D -Day invasion
of Kmart. Oh no, you did not just go there. Watch
me, Rick. The Kmart revolution is just beginning.
All right, all right. We've been through gluttons,
sock wars, and government -sponsored nostalgia.
And if you're still tuned in, that means you're
one of the awoke ones. My kind of people. Now...
The next story is called Treasure Seekers, written
by Pell Fred, performed by Emily Morris Lee,
and Gareth Murden, with sound design by Daniel
Kelley. It's about two treasure hunters who can't
see eye to eye and end up finding something deeper.
Maybe the real treasure is what or who you leave
behind. But let me tell you something. Treasure's
a funny thing. Everyone's always looking for
it. Gold, glory, closure. But sometimes it's
what's buried right under your nose that'll get
you. Now, while you listen to that, I want to
plant a thought in your noggin. A theory that's
been keeping me up since the last blizzard. you
ever notice how snowmen just appear overnight
perfectly shaped standing in the yard nobody
even stepped through and no footprints around
them explain that one meteorologists i think
they're scouts watchers built as part of operation
frost veil a post -cold war surveillance project
You think those carrot dozes are decoration?
Nah, brother. Those are directional microphones.
Picks up chatter from three houses over. The
coal house. Thermal sensors. And when the snow
melts, poof, evidence gone. And the hats. Don't
even get me started on the hats. My neighbor's
snowman was wearing a different one every morning
last winter. Same scarf, different hat. You tell
me that ain't transmission signal, and I'll sell
you a beachfront property in Duluth. See, the
snowmen are reporting back. To who? I ain't sure.
Santa, maybe. Or Big Derry. But someone's watching
and every time you go outside to add another
button you're feeding the system anyway Before
I get frostbitten just thinking about it. Let's
roll our next story treasure seekers Maybe these
treasure hunters dig up something more than gold.
Maybe they dig up the truth Perhaps the real
treasure were the friends we made along the way.
What friends? We've been traveling all over the
world, and for what? An empty chest? You need
to think more broadly. The pilot that took us
here from South America? You mean the guy we
had to bribe to take us across national borders
illegally? The guy who flew off the second we
landed? The same guy we asked to wait? Come on.
You have to be more positive. He was very nice.
Sure, we paid a guy to be nice. That's not a
friend. What if the real friendship was money?
God, you're infuriating. One more word and I'll
leave you in this damn Arctic cave. Maybe the
real Arctic cave is home. Seriously, what's wrong
with you? You've been pissy and mad since we
started this trip. Would it kill you to just
be happy for once? We're down tens of thousands
of dollars on this trip. You promised me, promised
me that we'd make it back ten times over. And
here we are. We went into debt for this trip.
It's just money. It's not just money when you
upend your entire life for the cause. I'm going
to lose my home. I guess that doesn't matter
to you, huh? You'll be going back to your mansion,
your rich guy life. I have nothing. There you
go again. Being Negative Nancy. This trip was
your idea. You asked me to fund it. You will
still have your job when you get back. You can
keep doing whatever it is you guys do in the
factory. I won't let you starve. Don't give me
a raise. In this economy, not happening. That's
it. Now you want my help? Forget it. I told you
this cave was dangerous. What did you call me?
I don't recall. What was that? I can't hear you
down there. Spoiled negative naysayer. I've saved
your ass countless times this past year. I've
got nothing in return. Solve your own problems.
If the last story didn't make you question what's
really worth digging for, this next story sure
will. We're closing things out tonight with a
tale called Disparity. Written by Matthew Curran,
voiced by A .J. DeLong, with sound design by
Brady Flanagan. Now this one's about corporate
greed. But not your run -of -the -mill Wall Street
vampires, no sir, this is cosmic evil we're talking
about. A boardroom so dark, you can't even see
where the suits end and the shadows begin. A
store where shareholders' value still matters,
even when the company's soul's been repossessed.
See, I got theories about that, too. They say
corporations are entities. Think about the word
entity. Ever notice how it's the same thing they
call a ghost when they don't want to admit it's
a ghost? Entities don't die. They just rebrand.
I'm telling you, half of these boardrooms are
seance circles with PowerPoints. You ever sat
through an earnings call? That's not... business
talk that's incantations every synergy and growth
quarter chance feeds the beast and don't even
get me started on the dividends that's blood
money with a receipt you laugh mark my words
there's a reason every ceo smile looks like it's
stretched too wide for their skull They're practicing
for when they gotta meet the real boss. And I
don't mean the one with the corner office. So
grab your 10 -4 and dim the lights and hold time
to your 401k. Because in the next story, even
evil has to balance the books. And trust me,
When the cosmic counts come to collect, the don't
take checks. Month, November, day 30, year 2029.
This is Ozel Dracnos. Assistant Executive Analyst
to the Director of Department of Financial Affairs
in AGON, the Administrative Global Occult Network,
detailing the yearly report based on observations
of the global market and economy of nations,
as well as commentary on demographic displacement.
All details on this report are strictly for the
eyes of the Board of Directors only. Financial
affairs has raised concern about certain trends
that have been emerging in certain locations
throughout the world since the Magus administration
in the United States came to power last year.
Analysts have noticed that GDP of the developed
nations have tripled in the last four years,
usually attributed to the year of advancement,
aka 2026, with the increasing presence of the
multi -trillion dollar corporate and political
conglomerate, Abraxas. Spearheaded with legislative
support from the United States and the Western
powers, they have taken initiatives to transform
infrastructures and economies in developing nations.
Results have been effective with the median and
total GDP rising in targeted countries in sub
-Saharan Africa by 27%, Southeast Asia by 34%,
Central Asia by 30%. Middle East by 49 % and
Latin America by 66%. Infrastructure has resulted
in quality of life improvements such as increased
sanitation standards, more accessible transport
systems, improved city planning with expansion
initiatives, and higher birth rates and literacy
rate. The Western powers, especially the United
States, have gone through drastic restructuring
with almost every facet touched by Abraxas' involvement.
The salary rate in the United States alone increased
from $75 ,948 in 2025 to a massive jump to $173
,904 in 2029, usually attributed to reforms and
regulations in the corporate sector and the introduction
to new digital currencies and their integration
in member countries such as IOD. the International
Organization of Digital Economy. Non -members,
such as China and India, are attempting to replicate
such policies in their domestic sector and in
any international organization where they lead
with member nations. Non -human nations, such
as Ubar, Hyperborea... Hujola, Thule, and the
Amorat Confederation, the Raleigh Theocracy,
and the renegade continent of Mu have also sought
to follow suit as well. While most economists
praise the breakthrough of Abraxas' global initiatives,
Agon's Department of Financial Affairs have discovered
that these initiatives have not increased the
middle class globally. Based on Pew Research
in 2020, low income worldwide was calculated
as 51%, 10 % poor, 17 % middle class, 10 % upper
high class, and 7 % high class, and 5 % highest
class. This year of 2029, those numbers have
been adjusted to 59%, 21%, 10%, 6%, 3%, 1 % respectively.
Distribution of wealth has been recorded that
this year about 1 % hold 75 % of the world's
wealth as opposed to 50 % back in 2013. Infrastructure
programs have included relocation programs for
many low -income groups in multiple nations with
statistical inconsistencies being discovered
that 22 % of those relocated have not been accounted
for. They have essentially disappeared from official
records. We only discovered this through efforts
from investigative journalists as well as our
informants within these systems. However, most
of them have disappeared as well in the last
three years, leaving a lot of analysts inconclusive.
Addendum. Civil liberties and media freedom as
a result of the limit of information have been
curtailed with increased surveillance systems
present in places targeted by infrastructure
initiatives. Aside from the government reforms
initiated with Abraxas' influence, what is confirmed
is that the conglomerate has been finding places
to harvest resources beyond Earth to achieve
these economical breakthroughs through incursions
and exploitations into realms, including the
realms of the dead. Examples of Abraxas' incursions
include Tartarus, Kasanan, Naraka, Fusang, Tirnanog,
Ikhala, Zibalba, and Duat. We have also claims
not yet substantial that from certain realms
of the dead, Abraxas' military arm, Nadir, have
been assassinating divines, appropriating the
dead to power their sectors of industry, and
enslaving non -humans to make them part of their
labor force to continue their projects. There's
also allegations that the debt are integrated
as data for their digital currencies program
to increase its value as a financial asset. Estimated
death toll on average in each incursion of Realm
varies from 20 to 40 % of living residents since
operations began. Estimated soul harvest is inconclusive,
but theorized to be 60%. Addendum. Suggestion
to Executive Director Anubis. It is recommended
we start calling on the old alliances to allow
residents of the undead or extra -dimensional
realms to transmigrate to allied realms for asylum.
Potential displacement may disrupt activities
in these realms, but necessary to slow down incursions
until alliance can be coordinated among divines
and non -humans to strike back against Abraxas,
their collaborators, and their Archon masters.
Conclusion of report. Under the premise of increased
quality of life and technological breakthroughs,
Abraxas has sustained their growth by taking
their methods to their logical conclusion, by
targeting vulnerable communities and classes
and moving on to disrupt the extra -dimensional
realms through invasion and exploitations of
its resources and denizens. recommendations to
funnel financial support and alternatives to
Abraxas' initiatives to developing countries
should be pushed more by the board of directors
to prevent being overwhelmed by Abraxas' economic
advantage at this point in time. End report.
Internal anecdote. I must also include a personal
request to prioritize certain areas going through
displacement. My sister is still in Svartalfheim,
and that place is newly taken. Maybe make a request
for relief there and accept migrancy of refugees.
I'll have to think about it. Folks, that wraps
up tonight's episode of Cold Reed's Hot Takes.
After listening to all that, demons, corporations,
Treasure hunters arguing in the woods. I'm starting
to think that the holidays aren't as innocent
as they look. I mean, think about it. The timing.
The lights. The endless sales. The limited time
only peppermint everything. It's all part of
the holiday control grid. You ever notice? How
every single store plays the same 12 songs on
repeat. That's not nostalgia. Pal, that's seasonal
programming. Keeps you docile while you're maxing
out credit cards and forgetting which end of
the wrapper the paper stuck to. And don't even
get me started on the elves. You think they're
working for Santa? No! They're contractors. Government
subcontractors. You ever wonder why NORAD tracks
Santa's flight path every year? They're modern
airspace anomalies. You're laughing now, but
you won't be when your smart TV starts blinking
ho -ho -ho in Morse code. Before I get myself
on another watch list, I'll leave you with this.
Whether you believe in Santa, snowmen, or shareholders
of cosmic evil, remember that what matters most
ain't the gifts or the conspiracies. It's the
people you spend your time with, even if half
of them are wearing tinfoil hats like me. Now,
for legal reasons, and cause Randy made me promise,
I gotta say this next part real clear. The opinions,
theories, and general paranoia expressed by Cousin
Buck do not reflect those of Cold Reed's Hot
Takes, its writers, producers, or the fine folks
who definitely ain't working for Santa's surveillance
division. Alright, I'm off to reheat some leftover
turkey and decode a... Fruitcake, I'm 70 % sure,
has government tracker chips baked inside. So
stay alert, stay weird, and if you see a snowman,
wink at ya. Run!