The Amelia Project - Episode 9 - Percy

Episode Date: April 6, 2018

“They’re following my every move. They’re listening to every word I say. Every. Single. Word.” Season 1, Episode 9. The Amelia Project is a secret agency that helps its clients by faking their deaths and setting them up with a brand new identity! What’s today’s client’s dilemma? Listen and find out!  With: Alan Burgon, Tom Middler, Gianluca Iumiento, Ravdeep Singh Bajwa and Julia Morizawa. Written and edited by Philip Thorne. Directed by Alan Burgon. Music and sound design by Fredrik S. Baden. Produced by Imploding Fictions in association with Open House Theatre Vienna. Fellow fiction podcast shoutout to Munchen Minnesota. Content warning: this episode contains gunfire. Website: https://ameliapodcast.com  Transcripts: https://ameliapodcast.com/transcripts Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ameliapodcast Donations: https://ameliapodcast.com/support Merch: https://www.teepublic.com/stores/the-amelia-project?ref_id=6148 Twitter: https://twitter.com/amelia_podcast Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ameliapodcast/ Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/ameliapodcast Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Your mom hates it when you leave six half-full glasses on your nightstand. It's a good thing mom lives on the other side of the country. And it's an even better thing that you can get six IKEA 365 Plus glasses for just $9.99. So go ahead. You can afford to hoard because IKEA is priced for student life. Shop everything you need for back to school at IKEA today. Because the Skip app saves you so much time by delivering stuff like your favorite cool treats, groceries, and bevvies, you get more time to have the best summer ever. Like riding roller coasters, learning to water ski, applying sunscreen to your dad's back.

Ah! Yep, definitely the best summer ever. Squeeze more summer out of summer with Skip. Did somebody say Skip? Hello from Vienna. I'm Julia, I play Alvina, and right now I'm at the Prater, Vienna's famous fun park. It's not quite as exciting as Luke's Hell,

but at least you get to leave with all your limbs. Hope you're enjoying listening to the show as much as we're enjoying making it. We love making it. We want to make more. Much, much more. But in order to do so, we need funds. And this is where you can help.

Even by pledging as little as one dollar per episode you will be making a real difference and helping us keep this show alive. You can visit our website at ameliapodcast.com and follow the link to sign up as a patron. Right it's time for the episode to start and time for me to tackle that share-a-plane. Thanks for listening congratulations you've reached the Amelia project this phone call isn't happening if you're not serious about this hang Hang up. Now. If you continue, there's no way back.

Good choice. A new life awaits. You'll hear back from us within the hour. If you don't hear back, please consider the whole thing a hoax. Leave your message after the beep. I don't know what to say. I'm trapped. They're following my every move.

They're listening to every word I say. Every single word. Thank you. The Amelia Project by Philip Thorne and Oistein Braga with music and sound design by Frederick Barden Episode 9 Percy Come in. Hello. Ah, welcome to Amelia. Sit down, grab a cup, put your feet up, welcome to Amelia. Sit down.

Grab a cup. Put your feet up. Help yourself to a guava. Um, thanks. Cocoa? That would be nice. Sugar? Three spoonfuls, please.

My, my. Righty-ho. One. Two. and three. There we are. Anything else I can do for you? Would you mind pinching me? You'd like me to pinch you?

If it's not too much bother. Not at all. Where would you like to be pinched? I was thinking the cheek There we are Voila Harder Voila Harder

Hmm, aye, okay Voila Shit Oh, sorry I didn't want to hurt you Oh, don't worry, you didn't It didn't hurt one bit Oh

Hmm You're very strange I'm not really I didn't want to hurt you. Oh, don't worry, you didn't. It didn't hurt one bit. Oh. Hmm. You're very strange. I'm not really. I'm dull as dishwater. I'm sorry? No, I'm sorry. Whatever for? For wasting your time.

You're not wasting my time. Yes, I am. No, you're not. Yes, I am. No, you're not. Yes, I am. No, you're not. Yes, I am.

No, you're... Oh, do you am. No, you're not. Yes, I am. No, you're... Do you really find this a valuable use of your time? I'm very strange. I wish I was strange. At least that would be something. What's your name? Percy. Don't look at me like that. I didn't choose it. But... Percy is a totally reasonable name. It's ridiculous.

Surname? No. What do you mean, no? I mean, I don't have a surname. You don't have a surname? I know. Pathetic, isn't it? You're a very bitter man. Yes.

Why? I've got absolutely no control over my own decisions. What kind of decisions? How many sugars to take in my cocoa, for instance. Have you ever had cocoa with three sugars? It's disgusting. But you just asked for... I told you I don't make my own decisions. If I did, I wouldn't be wearing an orange turtleneck with pink Bermudas, would I? Someone is forcing you against your will. My will never enters into it. I'm never consulted. My life is totally out of my hands. That's terrible. You should take this straight to the authorities. Oh, I've taken it all

the way to Amnesty International and the European Court of Human Rights. What did they say? They said they couldn't help me on account of my not being real. What? They said they only deal with real people. And you're... not? When you just pinched me, I didn't feel a thing. Right. So, if you're not real, what are you? I'm a fictional character in a podcast. Really?

You're sure? 100%. Gosh, you had me fooled. Really? Really? My writers made me pretty one-dimensional. Well, I just wasn't expecting it. We've never dealt with fictional characters before.

It's not the fact that I'm fictional that upsets me. I often say reality is overrated. It's that I'm underdeveloped. I see. My writers aren't very talented. Hang on. Didn't they just write that? It's called self-deprecation.

They think they're being so clever. They control everything you do. If they decide to make me hop up and down on my left leg and sing the Marseillaise, that's just what I'll do. Allons en force de la patrie... Stop! Stop! Please stop! Sorry. But you're an atrocious singer.

I know. They think it's funny. You have a tense relationship with your writers. We've never been on the best of terms, but yes, in the last few days our relationship has really deteriorated. You must be at least a tiny bit grateful to them, though. They did create you, after all. Nice try.

What? They gave you that line to make me say something nice. Fishing for compliments so desperate. They gave me that line. Are you saying they control what I say too? Sorry to break it to you.

You're wrong. I'm not fictional. The other day I stubbed my toe. What's that got to do with anything? It hurt like hell. That just means the writers gave you enough nuance to feel pain. I have no nuance. When you pinched me back then, nothing. I've just been written in

as the butt of a wanky joke. What an existence. At least you don't need to live in fear of stubbing your toe. Every cloud... I dream of stubbing my toe. It's not all it's cracked up to be. Oh, you're lucky. You have a distinct voice, a proper backstory and character traits.

With me, they didn't even bother to give me a surname. Come to think of it, what is my name? I don't come from a particular city. My parents are neither rich nor poor. I'm not Catholic, Buddhist, Mormon or seven-day Adventist. I'm not a Freemason or an Apostle of Antithon. I don't have any nervous tics or twitches. I'm not allergic to pollen, perfume, latex, insect stings or garlic.

There isn't a film that gives me goosebumps or a piece of music that makes me cry. I don't play the cello, piccolo flute or harpsichord. I don't drive around in a sky blue Chevrolet Corvette or a repurposed school bus. I don't have any of the details that make a character interesting. I'm simply the result of the writers googling first names, opening a word doc and typing Percy. More cocoa. I find it helps calm the nerves. That would be nice. And three more sugars, please. Actually, make that four. Thank you. And then, finally, add Bacardi rum. Shake it together. And there you have it. The perfect summer mix. Bacardi. Do what moves you.

Live passionately. Drink responsibly. Copyright 2024. Bacardi, its trade dress and the bat device are trademarks of Bacardi and Company Limited. Rum 40% alcohol by volume. I wish I was you. It must be nice to be a recurring character. To develop over time. To become more rounded with every episode. You only exist in this episode.

Of all the episodes I could have appeared in, it's this self-intelligent pile of shit. It's like living up the writer's arse. You want to escape? Yes. Can you help me? We've never had to extract anyone from a writer's butt before. I need you to help me get out of this damn podcast. And do what?

There's so much I could do. I could be the father who travels around the globe with a sawn-off shotgun to bring justice to his daughter's kidnappers. I could be the sensitive music teacher who forgoes his own career but inspires a pupil to become the next John Lennon. I could be the Catholic music teacher who forgoes his own career but inspires a pupil to become the next John Lennon I could be the Catholic priest plagued by doubts who in his quest for certainty gets his hands on 20 tonnes of silver nitride and tells God to show himself or else he'll blow Vatican City to high heaven

I could be the chef who makes a risotto so divine it makes diners orgasm I have so much potential the things I could become if I wasn't held back by my writer's lack of ambition. We can arrange your flight into the mind of a better writer. You can? Would you like your new life to be in another podcast? Or would you like to relocate to a different genre? Anything but a podcast.

A novel, a film, TV series, a play or an opera. Just something that's given proper attention and not just listened to while doing the dishes or commuting to work. Well, that's not fair. A lot of people listen to podcasts in bed to help them fall asleep. Great. I want more from life. I'm sure we can find an up-and-coming writer working in a respected genre with a knack for complex, multifaceted, richly drawn characters. Really?

The difficult part will be making you disappear. I knew there was a but. The problem is that since the writers are writing everything we're saying, they're effectively eavesdropping on us. We can't talk in private. That means it's difficult to surprise them. But is it possible? Can you make me disappear from under their notices? Since you only exist in this one episode and have no life outside of it, we'll have to do it here and now, as we speak.

Can you do that? Not the normal way. What's the normal way? Faking deaths. That won't work. I don't think so. Joey Salvatore? Joey Salvatore? Joey Salvatore, si può utilizzare il Kalashnikovs? How do you feel? Fine. Hmm. Just as I thought.

Since you're not real, you can't die. Faking your death is both easy and pointless. It would fool no one. So it's impossible. I can't escape. You can, and you will. How? The writers are too powerful. Amelia is more powerful. It can't be. It was invented by the writers.

That depends on where ideas come from. What do you mean? Do you come up with ideas, or do ideas come to from. What do you mean? Do you come up with ideas or do ideas come to you? What are you saying? That although they're writing about Amelia, the idea came from somewhere else. Look, I don't follow... The idea for this episode was planted in their minds. By us. What?

Why? Why would you do that? To provoke a car crash. A car crash? Yes, I'm speaking figuratively. A narrative car crash. We're going to make the writers drive against the wall. This episode is getting more convoluted by the minute. A few more ironic winks and it'll all come crashing down under its own pretentious weight.

Sit back and enjoy. Enjoy what? The spectacle of our writers writing themselves into a corner. How much longer do you think they can make this last? Amelia Sessions follow a structure. A character is introduced, their dilemma is discussed, and a solution for their disappearance is found. A satisfying solution is an essential part of the contract

the writers establish with their audience. We've given them a scenario they can't resolve. They're still trying, struggling to find a way out, but they won't find one. The joke is now on them. What happens if they can't end the episode? They ditch it and you're free as a bird. A character setting off into the sunset in search of a new author. You set this up?

It wasn't difficult. We left a Calvino novel and a few Pirandello plays lying about in their apartment, and the seed was quickly sown. Hang on. This doesn't make any sense. This is still the writers playing games, isn't it? Why do you say that? They don't have to abandon the episode, because what you just described is a solution. Well, that may be so, but is it a satisfying one? Well, no. That depends, I suppose. I think it's pretty lame. Yes, but when has that stopped them before?

More self-deprecation. Believe me, the writers are at the end of their limited capabilities. It's getting too indulgent even for them, and they're dying to watch the new Twin Peaks finale. I reckon they give up on this episode any second now. Hello? Hello? Hello? Ah, we're obviously still here.

Yes. Hello? Hello? Still here. Hello? Hello? This is just stupid! They've definitely run out of ideas! Hello? Hello? Hello? The theme tune will kick in any moment now. Trust me. What if they just keep going... Shh! Wait for it.

There. The Emilia Project is produced by Imploding Fictions in association with Open House Theatre Vienna. This episode featured Alan Bergen as the interviewer, Tom Midler as Percy, and Julia Morizawa on the answer phone. It was written by Philip Thorne and Oystein Braga and directed by Alan Bergen. Music and sound design by Frederick Barden, graphic design by Anders Pedersen, production coordination by Julia C. Thorne This episode was recorded at Torngeber Studios

with the assistance of Gabriel Geber This week's podcast shout-out goes to Munchen, Minnesota Justin Glanville's strange tale about a fading mill town on the verge of a supernatural invasion We came across this show at Austin Film Festival Thank you. Percy. What a stupid name. I could at least have come up with something better. Hey, you didn't come up with it.

I wrote this episode. No, you didn't. I did. I did. Stop speaking Norwegian and I wrote this episode. No, you didn't. I'm writing you now. Well, not very well.

What do you mean? That Norwegian back then didn't mean anything. I'm still writing. Your laptop's almost out of battery. I'm still writing. The Fable and Folly Network, where fiction producers flourish.