The Amelia Project - Episode 97 Dear Dawn Many Deaths Part 2

Episode Date: January 11, 2026

“We have to ask ourselves who or what Death is exactly.” Featuring Alan Burgon, Julia C. Thorne, Tim Meredith and Mario Vernazza. Written and directed by Philip Thorne and Oystein Ulsberg Brager, audio editing by Philip Thorne, sound design by Alexander Danner, music by Fredrik Baden, graphic design by Anders Pedersen and production assistance by Maty Parzival. Website: https://ameliapodcast.com/  Transcripts: https://ameliapodcast.com/season-5  Merch: https://ameliapodcast.dashery.com/  Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/theameliaproject.bsky.social Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ameliapodcast/ Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/ameliapodcast X: https://twitter.com/amelia_podcast Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

This episode is dedicated to Sunny D. Anomily, who will die by an angry mob, will then mysteriously reappear as themselves long enough to give the world the hope it needs, only to vanish again mysteriously and reappear in Arizona as the proprietor of a cat and cactus farm called the Kitty Cactus. Thank you so much to Sunny D. Anomily and to all our patrons and Apple subscriptions members, who choose to support the work we do. If you'd like to join their ranks for as little as $5 a month, go to ameliapodcast.com for more info.

But for now, enjoy the show. Me, oh my, me, oh my, me oh my, me oh my, me oh my, me oh my. I know when you're going to die. Oh, Monsieur Reve? Bonjour, mon ami, we meet again. Is this the afterlife? Take a seat. Would you like the dentist's chair or the rocking-horse?

Where are we? Rue Mervier, left off Avenue, Cochema, the purple door with the painted stars. So this is a dream? No, monsieur? No? This is a memory. I remember you. I remember your case.

I remember the dream emporium. But do you remember your premonition? What premonition? the day of night and you were in an empty theatre looking out into an eich auditorium. Oh yes. I heard a sound. A gash of wind. Followed by the distinct smell of Limburger cheese. I think it was sweet aftershay. Is that significant?

Go. A spotlight in the middle of the auditorium. Propped up between the seats is a mirror. I know I must look in. I know I must look into this mirror. I walk into the auditorium. I close my eyes, position myself, open my eyes and look into the mirror.

And? What do you see? I see... Venario, is that you? Yes. I like the new mask. Watch Jolier. Until my next death, I shall.

be ad lecino. I see Venario. Who is Venirio? A client. He was wearing his brightly colored outfit and his red and black mask, smiling. How's the chocolatacalda? Oh, good. Now it's time for you to keep your part of the bargain.

What was the bargain? He took me in his gondola. We rode along the canals to his mask workshop. Venerio, your workshop gives me the shivers. You don't find it beautiful? Oh, it's very beautiful. It's just eerie. All these empty eyes staring at me.

The eyes are the mirrors to the sores. But a mask has no eyes. That's right. Only emptiness. A mask is nothing without its bearer, and yet the bearer wears it to become no one. Now, show me your palm. All right, here you go. What is it?

I don't understand this. What? Why? Well, I can't be. But it is. What? Your lifeline. It is longer than mine.

Well, that's good news, isn't it? I have never met anyone with a lifespan that can compare to my own. Who are you? How old are you? Approximately 44. Give or take a few... Hundred years? Ah, who counts?

This is extraordinary. Well, like you, I'm not planning to die any time soon. Are you sure about that? What do you mean? Normally, I can predict death down to the second, but your lifeline... It is very curious. How so? Splits in two, one long but faint, very faint.

We are short. but very clear. What does that mean? You could still live for a very long time. Great. But most probably you will die very soon. Oh, who am I? Oh, you scared me, Alvina.

Are you all right? Where the devil have you been? You said you would be quick. I was as fast as I could, but... You left me at dawn, it's now dust. I'm sorry. There were a lot of... things together. What is all this? Two spades, a crowbar, a jackhammer? Is that a

flamethrower? Yep. Flamethrowers are illegal here. Yeah, which is why I had to trek all the way out to Bada Bologna with an envelope full of cash and negotiate with a charming gentleman wearing a balaclava. But what's it all for? Oh, isn't it obvious? No. We're faking your death. Faking my death, but that's... Are you about to say, impossible? I die today. No, you don't. It's chiseled into that stone. Along with a dozen other dates, all of which you survived, why can't you survive this one?

You know why? You're not going to fight. Against fate? Faith Griffith. Venereo. We've done it before. Veneerio. I was just thinking about him.

There's precedent for this. I am weak, Alvina, and tired, so very tired. Look, we just. need to buy you some more time. Then we can get you to a hospital and... A hospital? The best hospital in Paris. No, no, no, no. There's only one thing, one person who can save me. I'm not giving up. I'm stubborn. I know you are. I can outstubborn you. All right, all right. What's your plan? I thought you'd never ask. Now, I'm not saying I approve. It's just...

Professional curiosity? Sure. I'll take that. Okay, so remember those undertakers from this morning. I do. I asked them whom they were burying, and you'll never believe who it is. Who? Professor Piroman. Who's that? Oh, come on, everyone's been talking about him.

The retired history professor whose hobby is recreating famous fires? Oh, yeah, oh. Wasn't he arrested in the UK several years ago after breaking into a bakery and attempting to recreate the great fire of London? Well, he's back in France. Last week, he tried to recreate the Communard's torching of the Palais de Justice. Oh, dear.

Luckily, or unluckily, for his fans, the only thing he set fire to was himself. Wait, he's got fans? Oh, a whole bunch of fire and history enthusiasts. Oh, my. They gathered on Place de la Republic yesterday to light a commemorative bonfire. The authorities were scared

they'd come to his grave and start a firework display, which is why they buried him at the crack of dawn. Huh, what a character. Too bad he's dead. I would have liked to have interviewed him. He was really quite clumsy. I caught a glimpse of his charred corpse and, let's just say, I skipped my morning croissant after that.

Why are you telling me this? Why do you think? You want the charred remains of the Batty Professor to be my stand in? Uh-huh. No. Oh, come on. There's no time to be too. Okay, continue.

So, I tried to bribe the undertakers. You what? But they refused. Few. Which is why I bought this. A crowbar and a spade. You're going to dig him up? Oh, like you've never dug up a corpse before.

I'm not judging. It's just not really your domain, is it? I mean, we leave grave robberies to Joe. If Joey and Salvatore were here, I'd be delighted to let them do the shoveling, while I kick back with some index stickers, highlighters and a nice cup of Empress Grey. Right. But they're not, are they? So, I'm doing this.

Digging up a coffin and then, what, cracking it open? Why not? What? We've been a bad influence on you. Let me remind you that before we met, I preserved my dead boyfriend's body with quicklime. If the cause is right, I can stomach a bit of gore. Right. Well, spoken like a true death faker. Now, while I dig, you take your clothes off and set them on fire.

Right. Wait, what? Burn them to rags. Why? Because we have to dress the corpse, or what's left of it, in the remains of your clothes, of course. You want me to strip naked in the middle of a graveyard? Mm-hmm. Is that a problem? It's disrespectful. Oh, okay, so digging up corpses is okay, but taking your clothes off...

I have to draw the line somewhere. I'm not getting naked in a graveyard. We don't have the luxury for scruples. Once again, spoken like a death faker. I'm proud of you, Alvina. I learnt from the best. Come on then, off with a kit. All right.

I don't need help. No, no, I don't need help. Watch the buttons. Careful, careful. Just relax, please. I can do this. I've been doing this myself for hundreds of years. Look.

Thousands of years. Don't worry, you won't be naked for long. Let me see. There we go. What is that? On my way back here, I met a Buddhist monk, and unlike the undertakers, he did accept my money. Wait a moment.

I'm going to be a monk? A Buddhist monk. Here, catch. But... Just so you can slink out of here undetected. After that, I promise I'll get you another three-piece suit, lovely bow-tie. Alvina, you do not slink away in bright orange robes. Hear me out.

A disguise is meant to be inconspicuous. A Buddhist monk in a Christian graveyard is anything but. I might as well play the bagpipes while juggling bananas and balancing a lightsaber on my nose. Look, in ordinary circumstances, yes. But we're not dealing with your average Larry here, are we? You mean Joe. Joey? What about him?

No, no, no. I mean the expression isn't your average Larry. It's your average Joe. I've always said Larry. Why would anyone say Larry? As in every Tom Dick and Larry? Oh, good Lord. That's not it at all. It's Tom Dick and Harry.

Really? Okay, so we're not dealing with your average Harry here, are we? Give me strength. What I'm saying is our opponent is death. Yes. So we have to put ourselves into the mind of death. And how do we do that? Well, first we have to ask ourselves who or what death is exactly.

Oh, you mean like, is he a hooded figure with a scythe or a ferryman or a black jackal? Yes. Or a penguin? Or maybe something more intangible? Than a penguin? Oh, look, what if rather than seeing you? He senses you, senses your soul. Oh, yes, they do that.

You see, in that case, rather than covering up your physique, we'd need to cover up your aura. Okay. That is why I chose spiritual garments. Right, well, I do like that thought process, I do. Did you know that Lord Buddha's aura is said to have radiated 3,500 kilometers from where he stood? 3,562, to be exact, it's a wonderful man. Wait, what? But you can't compare Lord Buddha with a guy who exchanges his cassaya for cash.

I mean, this monk of yours doesn't seem very spiritual. No, no, no, I doubt his aura has left any kind of imprint on this garment. Oh, crap, you're right. But the approach is good. It is? Yes, in order to defeat your opponent, you must know him. Sun Tzu, the art of war. Let me guess.

You knew Sun Tzu as well? No, don't be. Yes, yes, I did, yes. Hmm. Anyway, let's think. What do we know about death? Well, he can come in many forms. Meaning? Well, let me think. Dullahan, the headless horseman, with pale, glowing skin and a twisted smile that stretches from ear to ear.

Yes, creepy. I mean, when he raises his severed head, his beady black eyes can spot his target from a great distance. Okay, if we're dealing with Dulloughan, we're screwed. But maybe, I mean, maybe death is a spindly, blindfolded skeleton, stumbling randomly from victim to victim. Now that sounds better. Or more pathetic still, the Bondelgrammer. Who? The bone merchant, an old drunkard.

I once watched a puppet show in Bavaria about a man who cheats the Bondelgrammer by getting him drunk. Ah, I should have brought booze. Always get booze. No, no, no, my point is, he can come in many. guises. Are we sure it's a he? No, actually, no, you're right. There's Benir, the washerwoman with webbed feet, who washes the blood-stained clothes of her next victim. Or, or we might be dealing with a child. Oh, really?

Tuonin-titi, the black-haired maiden who rose the deceased from shore to shore. Turingtiti, Benir, Dullahan. Yes, it would help if we used a less ominous name, don't you think? Sorry? A nickname. A nickname? For death. Yes. Give your opponent a nickname. Not in the art of war, but it should be. I suggested it to Sun Tzu, but...

What do you have in mind? I don't know. There's something average, um, like... Larry? I told you, Alvina, it's not Larry, it's... Oh! Oh, yes, that's rather good, actually. I have an appointment with Larry. So when do we think Larry will appear? Well, the stone says today, and it's getting late.

He's only got another three or four hours. Yes, we have to hurry, but that's not what I meant. I meant, do you think he arrives on the dot, the moment of death, or a bit before, to witness the last moments? He has a hundred new appointments every minute. I mean, he can't possibly be punctual for every single one. Right. It's quite the caseload. Besides, when is the moment of death?

What do you mean? It's when... When life leaves the body, right? Hmm. What? Well, did you know that the moment of death has been moved quite significantly in the last hundred years? The moment of death has been moved. Yes, I mean... What does that mean? Well, a hundred years ago, humanity knew nothing about CPR, Heimlich, antibiotics.

A hundred years ago, people were declared dead at a point when, had they lived today, they could still have been saved. Today, doctors routinely bring people back, not just from near death, but from beyond death. Yeah, you're right. I've heard people say that. I was dead for several minutes, but the doctors brought me back. Yes, so, so when does Larry turn up then? And what is his job? Well, if Larry is the soul collector He has to wait until the soul is ready to collect Which means he arrives after the fact When revival is no longer possible

Yes, well I mean I suppose for a select few clients He might be early, you know, hold their hand as they pass away, all that stuff But, but no, for the majority I reckon he shows up later Yes Oh, damn! What? The soul.

What about it? What do we do about your soul? Oh, you're worried about the state of my soul. I'm worried about the state of the professor's soul. Professor Pyromen? Yes. Well, I fear he may be going straight to hell, to be honest. But on the bright side, he might like it.

Lots of fire. No, no, no, I mean... Stone. Do you think Larry has collected it yet? Oh, um... Well, I don't think they're going to revive him. No amount of CPR. is going to bring back a body that is burned to cinders.

Because if we use the professor's corpse as your replacement, but Larry has already collected the soul, you'll get suspicious when he finds my soulless body. Crumbs, you might be right, Alvina. What is the soul exactly? Hmm. Can we fake one? Hmm.

Arthur? Oh, sorry, I was lost in thought. So you have an idea? What? No, no. No, I was. just thinking about Disney. Disney?

Yes, Walt. I am contemplating the nature of the soul, and you're thinking about Disney? Well, more specifically, his soul. Walt Disney's soul? Has Larry collected that, do you think? What? I mean, with Walt Disney being cryogenically frozen and all.

Oh. Oh, I see. Yes, I mean, it's a valid question. Would Larry risk taking the soul of someone who might not be dead? Even if he has been not a... alive for decades. If Walt wakes up only to find his soul has already crossed the sticks, that would create quite an administrative hassle. I could imagine Larry's superior would not be pleased.

Yes, poor Larry. The job has become so much more complicated. Well, maybe he has helpers now. Someone who organises his calendar, plots in new appointments, ticks off old ones, does background checks on clients to make sure they are really dead. Yes, in other words, an Alvina. Yes. Well, if you find yourself in need of a new job after this... Oh, no. What? I guess he really does have helpers, doesn't he? Hordes of them.

And they're all... They're all just like stickers and highlighters and... Oh, God, we're doomed. Now, now, don't oversell yourself. Ha-ham. Okay, you're right. If his assistants are like you, we don't stand a Snowball's chance in hell. Nothing gets past his alvinas.

But... Yes? We don't know his helpers will be Alvinas. They might be Joey's. Joys? Hmm. Yes! Yes, they might be Joys!

In which case we could walk past with a megaphone shouting, we're faking this death and he still wouldn't notice. He would probably be asleep. Probably. Oh, God, I miss Joey. I do too. But do we really want to bet everything on it being a Joey death helper coming to gather your soul? No.

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What is a soul? Ah, yes. Um... Me. Beats me. Oh, why didn't I pay attention at Sunday school? Hmm. Maybe we can get out of it.

What have we claimed the soul has already been taken? What do you mean? We leave a piece of parchment, perhaps, in my coffin, declaring that my soul has already been claimed by Satan. Oh, you have a better idea. I've just remembered something. Oh? I might not have paid attention at Sunday school, but I did pay attention to your stories. Go on.

Remember when you were telling me about Mary Queen of Scots. Yes. Oh, I loved being the Ravenmaster at the Tower of London. The Ravens! The, go on. Didn't you tell me that ravens are the souls of murder victims? Well, feather this yeoman and call me an omen. I did, I did.

You're such a good listener, Alvina. Do you think we can get a raven to stand in for your soul? I mean, you speak raven, right? And you seem very friendly with that one over there. Alvina, say no more. I can get Karon over there. His name is Karon. Yes, well, well, his name is actually...

But that's too hard to say. He sticks in the back of the throat. It's very uncomfortable. So I named him Karon. Right. I can get Karon over there to stand over my dead body. When Larry comes to collect my soul, Karon looks him straight in the eye. Indicating in raven-like fashion that he is in fact your soul?

Exactly. Ah! Is that good? No, no, no, he'll take offence to that. Was that rude? You weren't to know. Sorry, Karon! Oh, but...

Are you sure Karen will help us? Well, for a decent bribe, yes, I'm sure he will. Okay, back at the office, we have euros, dollars, Vietnamese, Dong, Kuwaiti dinars. Oh, why don't you offer him the Virgin Mary coin from Palau with the microscopic vile of Holy Water? Or the 2007 Mongolian 500 Tugreek coin with the picture of John F. Kennedy and a button you can press to hear a snippet of his, I bin a Berliner speech. Well, I mean, I'm sure... A ray stone from the island of Yap with a diameter of 12 feet weighing up to 8 tonnes?

Right. If you give me an hour, 8 tonnes? Are we still talking about a coin? Yes. Okay, so I would need a truck. Are these real currencies? They are, or were? Well, I'd better get going.

There are a few coin shops down Rue Vivienne. I'm sure one of them will have, well, maybe not the 8-ton one, actually, but... Alvina. Yes? Do you think you can bribe a raven with money? I don't know, you're the raven expert. Well, of course you can't. Don't be silly.

Well, excuse me, until recently, I thought the idea of talking to ravens was silly. So by this point, I just figure anything goes. Alvina, ravens don't need money. Where would they put it? Ravens don't have any pockets? Under their feathers, in the back of their... Oh, okay, okay, I feel stupid now.

But what do they need? Well, food. Like? Small mammals, berries, eggs? I could whip up a mouse and blackberry omelette? Yes, that sounds positively disgusting, but you're on the right track. Okay, will you talk to Karen while I dig? Yes, but first I want to know the rest.

The rest of what? The plan. Haven't we covered everything? I'm pretty sure there's something you've omitted. I don't think... Something rather crucial. What are you referring to? The flamethrower!

Right. What about it? What do you intend to do with it? Isn't it obvious? No. Since we're using the professor's charred remains, we need you to burn. The fake burn. I've been doing this job long enough to know that that part is pretty clear, yes.

Okay, I know it's a bit cheap, and we generally pride ourselves in more bespoke fakiries, but since Kozlovsky isn't here to craft a possible likeness, I don't really see... There's nothing wrong with a disfigured corpse. It's a perfectly respectable hack for the time-pressure death faker. I've used it myself on many an occasion. So what is the problem then? The problem is, how exactly do you intend to fake my incineration?

Well, it's... Let's say Larry turns up early. Hmm? What does he see? Me? Running at you with the flamethrower? Wonderful picture. Why? What do you mean?

You know what I mean, Alvina. Every death has a story. Okay, we're... We're... We're... ...haveing an argument. It's a bit vague, but yes, go on. You cheated on me.

Cheated on... Alvina, I'm 90 times your age. Why, you cheated me out of an inheritance then. So you came after me with a flamethrower, rather than a lawyer. Why, if it's a really, really big inheritance... In a graveyard. Okay, so the story needs a bit of work. Only enough to convince afterlife Alvino when she compiles my case file.

I get your point. And that's just the cover story. I mean, how do we ensure I don't end up like an overseer brisket? Look, I was focused on gathering enough cash, riding the metro to Buena Bologna without getting pickpocketed, pepper-spraying the thugs who tried to rip me off, and returning to Montmartre with a flamethrower surreptitiously tucked under my jacket. I didn't have time to think beyond that.

Right. I was hoping you might have an idea? Oh, you were, yes. I mean, you do have well over 2,000 years of experience. Well, I do have... And you are the best in the business. That's right, I am. I am that, yes. Not that stupid naked mole rat thinking he's so big and clever with his lineage.

Okay, focus. Right. Luckily, I do have an idea. Well, I mean, it's a stretch. More than bribing a raven to stand in for your soul? No, no, it's not. Then let me hear it. I'll be one of Professor Piromann's fans.

Of course. Why didn't I think of that? It's not actually that much of a stretch. I mean, I do believe he was an artist, even if his ethics were a bit unclear. So, you're a fan. Yes, and having found his grave, I want to honour the arsonist academic by standing beside it and blazing the initials, pee-pee high into. the night sky. Well, that's bound to attract attention. Yes, which we want. What is a death without witnesses? As long as you don't hurt yourself. Oh, I know my way round a flamethrower, believe you,

me. You do? Yes, remember our 19th century gadget man, Luigi, who built the fire-breathing serpent for the magic flute? The serpent you used to fake that glass, harmonis, death, yes. Yes, I mean, when we left in Naples, we had to leave the serpent behind, but we extracted the flamethrower and took it with us. It was great for protection. And pranks. Pranks. Yes. I used to jump out at Koslovsky and cover him in flames. What? Harmless fun. Oh, good times. Harmless. Well, you know how he reacts to fire. Yes, with caution. Yes, yes, you're right. Yes, he did find it quite annoying, actually. He threw the flamethrower overboard during our first voyage to America in 1838. Can you believe it?

And that was the last time you used a flamethrower in 1838. Oh, I'll be fine, Alvina. More than fine. I'll be spectacular. I... Okay. All right. What next?

Right. Well, I tear through the graveyard like a maniac shooting pillars of fire into the black night. Until... Yes. I stumble. Oh no. And tumbled straight into a freshly dug grave, my own grave. One last blazing beam of fire shoots up from the grave,

illuminating the cemetery for a few fiery seconds. Then all is still. When Larry peers into the grave, he finds the flamethrower beside the charred remains of the poor professor. A raven flutters overhead. Wait, and you'll be... I'll be... I'll dig myself a small cavity in which to hide. You're doing the digging?

Oh, of course, I'll dig my own grave while you dig up the professors. You're sure you've got the strength? You said you were tired. Oh, this conversation is giving me energy. Besides, you know I make a fine grave digger. A pickax and a spade A spade Four and a shrouding sheet

Oh a pit of clay to be made For such a guest is me For real Are you sure you have the strength This will require actual effort It's not a theatre grave I've dug plenty of real graves too You know

What do you mean Julius and Salvidius, Johannes and Salvichorni, Jack Boyd, Luigi. Your employees? My friends. You buried them yourself? Well, their existence was off the books, you see. We couldn't risk handing them over to a priest or undertaker. Hmm.

Well, so that means... What? You'll bury me one day. Oh, don't be silly, Alvina. I'm not. I'm being serious. Even if I get through this night... Which, you will.

I have accepted that Martha was right. About what? But I do hope I get through this. I'm not ready. Not yet, anyway. You will. We have a plan. A plan?

Yes. Yes. Oh, thank you for that, Alvina. What do you mean? For giving my mind something to work on. One final distraction. Wait. No, what does that mean? It means I enjoyed it.

But Arthur, we're doing this, right? Come on. Arthur. Arthur, we're doing this. Talking to ravens and digging up graves and shooting firebeams into the sky. Yes! I love a crazy plan, a crazy story. It's what I live for.

Exactly. So, what? What are you saying? Come on, Alvina. Look, I know it's crazy, but we've done crazy before many, many, many times. Oh, I'm tired. But you said, you just said, you were feeling better. You said that this conversation...

No. Oh, good luck. No. You listen to me, Mr. interviewer. You can't die. Not yet. People need you. I need you.

And what about Lorraine? Huh? Yes, well. I'm afraid it's too late, isn't it? Nonsense! No, Alvina. Resist! I can't.

You can't. Alvina. Alvina, listen. Yes. He's here. What? He's here. Who's here?

Larry. What? He's behind you. Look, you're imagining things. No. It's really not funny. He's... Arthur?

He's... He's huge. Stay tuned for the epilogue, but first the credits. The Amelia Project is a production of imploding fictions. This episode featured Julia C. Thorn as Alvina Alan Bergen as the interviewer, Tim Meredith as Monsieur Réves, and Mario Vernatza as the new year. It was written and directed by Philip Thorne and Einstein-Belsberg Braga, with sound design by Alexander Dana,

Music by Frederick Barden, graphic design by Anders Pereson, and production assistants by Marty Parzival. It was recorded at Red Pee Studio in Vienna with engineering by Apat Hadnagi and Oliver Illis. This is the last episode of Season 5. We've come to the end of 2,800 years of Amelia Project history. We're now taking a bit of a break before coming back with season six and uncovering one of the Amelia Project's other big secrets. Making the new season will take a while. However, we won't be disappearing completely. We have a bonus mini-series in the works as well as some other exciting things. The best way to keep up with all of that is by joining our Patreon community. You can become a free member just for updates, but if you choose to support us for

$5 a month, you'll get instant access to our library of bonus content, get all future episodes early and ad-free, and all contributions go towards making the next season. So your help would be greatly appreciated. Thank you to all our current patrons and a shout out to our magnanimous super patrons at the time of recording. That's Michaela Sullivan, Celeste Joe's Heat 312, Albin, Ascent Amalie and Alison, Stephanie Weitenhela, Raphael, Eduardo, Vifas Verastek, Alison Throw, Patricia Born Wagner, Bryce Godmour, Cliff Heisinger, Michael West, Tim McMacken, Tibby, Florian Byers, Kirtney Mays, Boe, Astra Kim, Olivia Dodson, Philip Hansen, Michael David Smith, Ljie, Ryan Burnett, Timoteeis, Miss Nixie, Mystic Sybil, Tiffany Duffy, Jason Woods, Ryan O'Mara, Stefan Hattinger, Lucille Farrell,

Anonymous, Blyvani, Iris, Jade Pickering, Daniela Nissen, Matthew, with two Tewes, the first he is, silent. Kelsey Page, Silas X, Isabella Arzino G, the Blue Sky, Canal Crypted, Ethan Cobb, Heldon Incart, Artia Macada, Ent, Max Yarraman, DJ Goodall, Captain Cache, Natale, Sonny D, Anomily, and Rocky. Why did he call me Larry? The Fable and Falling Network, where fiction producers flourish. This season on, Civilized, or not, it's improvised, so you don't know. Barty, please, no!

It has to be done for the good of the children. Captain, is it Beatrix or Beatrice? I'm so confused. I'll tell you who it is. It's your mother. I have summited the mountain, and I declare this land for my own. Party, get down from the roof. Every time. I can't believe we made it into space, Beatrice. Yeah, it's been a long time.

time coming, Al. Wait, which version are you? Um, which version are you? Ha ha ha ha ha. So you're saying we've been on earth the whole time? Yeah, man, it's like just a simulation. Actually, we've been dead the whole time. Actually, this is lost. Actually, I'm lost.

We only have five seconds to diffuse this bomb. When you started saying that or at the end of saying that? Sound of explosion. So join us on Similize. Season 5 for this stuff that might happen, but probably a lot of it won't. Regardless, we're back with your favorite characters doing zany things in space, and we couldn't be more pumped. We'll see you soon, listeners.

Civilized Season 5 begins May 31st, 2020. Tune in wherever you get your podcasts or visit civilizedpod.com. Because usually they're pretty normal.