The Amelia Project - Mark W Wants to Die - LIVE SHOW - Crossover with Greater Boston

Episode Date: November 24, 2023

This is a crossover episode between The Amelia Project and Greater Boston, recorded live at The London Podcast Festival! What happens when these two fiction podcasts meet? Greater Boston acting legend Mark Whalberg hates fellow Greater Boston acting legend Matt Damon. One of the last things Mark Whalberg did before Matt Damon died was fistfight Matt Damon on a doomed, speeding train. But then Matt Damon sacrificed his life to save the passengers on that train. And so now Matt Damon is no more, but the memory of Matt Damon lives on. Now Matt Damon is not remembered as much more than merely an actor; he is Matt Damon, Transit Hero. And Mark Whalberg? He’s known as just a survivor floundering in Matt Damon’s shadow, which grows taller even in death. But Mark Whalberg has a plan. Mark Whalberg can die just like Matt Damon. Mark Whalberg is going to visit The Amelia Project to fake his own death and live on as someone who will receive the respect, accolades, and attention he righteously deserves. Dying and being reborn with the Amelia process will be Mark Whalberg’s greatest role yet. Featuring Alan Burgon, Hemi Yeroham, Jeff Van Dreason, Alexander Danner, Felix Trench and Zach Valenti. Website: https://ameliapodcast.com/  Transcripts: https://ameliapodcast.com/season-5  Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ameliapodcast Donations: https://ameliapodcast.com/support Merch: https://www.teepublic.com/stores/the-amelia-project?ref_id=6148 Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ameliapodcast/ Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/ameliapodcast X: https://twitter.com/amelia_podcast Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/theameliaproject.bsky.social  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Summer's here, and you can now get almost anything you need delivered with Uber Eats. What do we mean by almost? You can't get a well-groomed lawn delivered, but you can get chicken parmesan delivered. Sunshine? No. Some wine? Yes. Get almost, almost anything delivered with Uber Eats. Order now. Alcohol and select markets. See app for details.

Summer is like a cocktail. It has to be mixed just right. Start with a handful of great friends. Now, add your favorite music. And then, finally, add Bacardi Rum. 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. Hello, dear Amelia listeners. Something special today. A recording of our most recent live show performed at King's Place as part of the London Podcast Festival. This is an unusual episode.

Not only is it recorded in front of a live audience, it's a crossover episode with another podcast. The American indie audio drama Greater Boston. Greater Boston is a real fixture in the audio drama scene. Back when we were the new kids on the block, they were already a cult show. So chances are you'll be familiar with it. But if not, you can check out Greater Boston on your podcatcher, or you can use this episode as an introduction. In a nutshell, Greater Boston weaves a tapestry of funny, moving, satirical and socially aware stories set in an alternate and somewhat absurd version of Boston, Massachusetts. This episode features four iconic characters from the show, the roving reporter Chuck Octagon, the narrator,

and Greater Boston's alternate versions of Mark Wahlberg and Matt Damon. We're delighted that the Greater Boston gang crossed the pond to join us for this special live event. It was an incredible experience to meet and perform with them, and you're about to hear what happens when our two podcasts collide. As always, we're heavily indebted to our patrons. After many years of making the Amelia Project as a labour of love, it has finally also become our livelihood, and we couldn't have done that without you. So if you're supporting us with a small contribution per episode, thank you so much for allowing us to tell stories.

If you're not yet a patron but would like to become one, you can go to ameliapodcast.com and click on Support the Show. All we're asking for is a few dollars, the price of a cup of cocoa, when we release a new episode. And every contribution makes us really happy and makes a huge difference for our team. For today's episode, we'd like to give a shout out to Emre Chirbi. Thanks for your support, Emre. And now, without further ado, let us take you to a packed auditorium at King's Place London on the evening of the 10th of September 2023.

Take your seats and let the show begin. The doors are closing so I'm just going to go for it. Is anyone here to see Great Boston? You're in luck. Is anyone here to see the Amelia Project? You're in luck. Is anyone here to see The Amelia Project? Woo! You're in luck. Ladies and gentlemen, Greater Boston meets Amelia Project in

Mark Wahlberg Wants to Die. Hello there. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is The Narrator. As for what I do, well, I keep track of all the poor souls in order to tell their stories. And that's what brings me on this little vacation from New England to jolly old, oh, I'm from Boston. Greater Boston. That's my home base. But a few of the rascals I keep an eye on Have made the journey to a special place across the sea That offers a most unique service

The Amelia Project Have you heard of it? Well, there's a pain in the caboose reporter Who's gone sniffing around on your side of the pond Looking for it. A reporter with the improbable name of Chuck Octagon. Here he comes now. Good evening. I'm Chuck Octagon reporting live for the Underground from King's Place, London, where I suspect a secret organization responsible for the disappearance of some of the world's most elite and mysterious figures has set up their home base.

I got a whisper in my ear from a little birdie that the Amelia Project is somewhere right around this location. I'm not a birdie, but that may have been my fault. And I'm here to track them down. Track, verb, to follow the course or trail of someone or something, typically in order to find them or note their location at various points. And that's exactly what I plan to do, use my new sniffing nose to pinpoint the next path. I have it on good authority that several people nearby have participated in what I hear is called the Amelia path. I have it on good authority that several people nearby

have participated in what I hear is called the Amelia process. That is, having life-altering surgery, faking your death, escaping your former life, and embracing your new one. You there. You look incredibly guilty

and horrendously suspicious. Have you ever been a client of the Amelia project before? And if so, who did you used to be? Not yet. Fair. When the time comes, and it will come. What do you plan to, who do you plan to be

as you embrace your new life? Go farming in Peru. That's so peaceful. Good for you. You're doing a net good for the world. Congratulations. Hmm. I've got to find somebody that knows how to get there somewhere.

Let me see. You. You look familiar. Have you ever been in the greater Boston area? Well, once it was a bit traumatic. Some friends and I heard that there was an old theater where some homeless people had been kidnapped and they all got turned into dust.

Well, the Yellow King was summoned and it was a terrible, terrible event. I prefer not to dwell too hard on it. So Tuesday, then. Right. Well, nice to see you again. I'm getting closer. Someone around here must know.

Oh, let's see. That's your line, Alexander. That wasn't the number we That one. You. Do you? You! Have you been part of the Amelia process before? I have, yes. And who did you used to be? I used to be half of Steely Dan, Walter Becker, Circus money, 11 tracks of wax.

They were just playing Steely Dan in an intermission there, yeah. You're very famous. I'm fairly famous. I feel like Donald really got the limelight, but you know. Well, it's a pleasure to meet you. Can you give me their number?

I need their number. Hang on, hang on. Wait, wait. Let me get it down. Those are numbers. Keep going. All right, here we go. Zero two.

This is exactly what you said. Zero two, zero three, eight, zero seven, three six, three four three. Go. It's ringing. Congratulations. You have reached the Amelia Project. If you're not serious, please up if you continue there is no return good choice there is a new life awaiting you you'll hear back from us if you don't hear back please consider this a hoax leave your message after the beep. This is Chuck Octagon reporting live from King's Place, London.

And I'd like to embrace my new life, if I could. Sorry, I just had to set my phone down. But I'm hoping to use your services very shortly, and I am most looking forward to it. I'm a local reporter, and maybe you can help me out, please? How did this one get an appointment? Let him in, Alvina. I'm Chuck Octagon, reporting live from your office with a late-breaking news story. This cocoa is the best I have ever tasted in my entire life.

Cocoa, noun, a chocolate powder made from roasted and ground cacao seeds, or a hot drink made from cocoa powder mixed with sugar and milk or water. Water? I wouldn't stand for that sort of blasphemy in my presence. Ah, never gets old. Now, let's get right down to business. You said never gets old. That really is it, isn't it? Pardon me?

I'm a journalist, uh, Mr... No. Right. Well, I get to the bottom of stories, mysteries, threads left untangled. I'm very good at it, which is how I happened to cross your number. Impressive. Most people find us through referrals. Yes, well, like I always say, I have a news nose and it knows how to blow.

How charming. That's right, I dot every I, cross every T, and always make sure to get every last detail. I'm sure you appreciate that, don't you, Mr... No. Right. The thing is, I started a news outfit a few years ago, The Underground. It's a long story and I won't bore myself with the details. I detest boredom. As do I. But I do love stories. Well, this doesn't have much to do with the need of your services, but long story short, a man was working for a psychic news magazine called Third Sight Media.

The publisher lived in a secret office on the top floor where he had dozens of security cameras spying on his staff, but also several people throughout the Greater Boston area His goal was ultimately to manipulate the politics of the new city of red line Which was one of the four main subway lines in Boston. Thanks to a state ride Referendum is seceded from the Greater Boston area and became its own independent municipality with dwellings businesses public utilities all within the trains and stations Themselves the publishers plan was to install a puppet mayor all within the trains and stations themselves. The publisher's plan was to install a puppet mayor,

manipulate events in such a fashion that he could report on them through the small psychic publishing empire, thus validating his harebrained business to national markets. However, an employee named Tate discovered some elements of his evil plan thanks to his relationship with a ghost trapped in a crystal ball that the publisher was blackmailing for information. That man, Tate, was trapped inside a secret office, left for dead, and nearly starved to death until he was miraculously saved by the dead ball ghost brother who had just come back from discovering atlantis while this is true while trapped in his office this man tate hacked into

the publisher's business expenses who paid himself and his former colleagues handsomely with the leftover funds which is probably illegal but given everything else that was happening no one seemed to notice with those funds he created a new publishing enterprise with yours truly called The Underground, a journalistic chronicling of the comings and goings of Redline, the very trained city that started the whole thing in the first place and caused the publisher

that he tried to manipulate and all that stuff. Well, how do you define boring, exactly? Boring. Adjective. Not interesting. Tedious. Right. At some point, I may need to hear the longer version of that. There are four seasons available on your podcast app of your choice. So, let me guess.

You're here because you've uncovered a dark secret in one of those train tunnels, and you need to escape into a new life before facing the grisly consequences of your brave, journalistic integrity. No! I don't want to escape. Why would I? My life is simply fabulous. Oh. I have a cracking good news team at my side, and a handsome and supportive partner in my beloved husband, Andy Wood. Then what brings you to Amelia? It can't just be the cocoa, good as it is. I understand most of your clients come to you to disappear, but I require the opposite.

I'd like to become even more visible. I may require more cocoa for this. As on-air talent, I'm obsolete. Viewers prefer my younger counterparts, Michael Tate, Nicole Fonzarelli, even Luisa Alvarez rates better than me, and she's our photographer. Go on. But I have a secret weapon, and that secret weapon is you. I want to make a younger version of me. One that can thrive on cameras for years to come, looking fresher and more newsworthy than ever before. I want eyeballs to orgasm when they see me on TV

with tears that scream, now fuck me, that's a newsman. My, my. I may never twitch my eyes again. Mr. Octagon, Chuck, if I may, please. There is a terrible price to never growing old. No, no, no, I can't even lie successfully about that one. Oh, it's wonderful, really.

Save the need for constantly keeping up with the latest pesky trends. iPods, iPads, talking phones and walking vacuum cleaners and the like. So you see where I'm coming from. Oh, yes. And I can see where you're headed, too. Allow me to tell you two simultaneous stories. One is about a man named Ricardo, born in Brazil about a century ago, outside of Rio de Janeiro,

surrounded by poverty and steeped in utter destitution. At 16 years old, he was given a chance to kill or be killed, and like any rational being, he answered accordingly. A hunting rifle in his lap, he found his target in his sights and pulled the trigger, forever silencing the life of a man he did not know. He told a friend he would never kill again. For his efforts, he was paid with his life. But his next projects brought cash. Killing soon became his profession. And although

he would lay awake at night, his face numb from cold, dried tears, he adopted the personality of a professional. And like most professionals, he grew his skills and techniques. He assessed the effectiveness of each assassination, timing himself, finding ways to make murder tidier, faster, more effective. He strove for continuous improvement in his destructive methods. He took on many personas. Some called him the Sandman, a reincarnation of Julio Santana, the real Carlos the Jackal, or Fantasma, the Michael Jordan of murder, the goat of garroting, the anointed one of

assassination. If you were a person of appropriate wealth and means and wanted someone dead, the cold, calculating killer Little Ricardo grew to become was who you dreamed of hiring, if you could only afford it. No traces left behind. No traces back to you. Just a mystery and a stellar reputation. Now, do you hear that sound? Sound?

No, I'm afraid I... Shh! Listen. Listen carefully. I'm afraid I don't hear anything. Little wings, flapping desperately to move a tiny, pathetic body born of maggots from trash.

It's the sound of a fly. It flew in here when you walked in from the reception area. And it's been buzzing around here ever since. A fitting guest to accompany you. And do you know why that is? I am sensing a metaphor. Quite right. Yes, you see, for coming to Amelia and requesting the great Dr. Kozlovsky

perform basic plastic surgery on your shoddy little news anchor frame in order to give you a sheen of youthful vigor is as preposterous an idea as requesting little Ricardo come to my office with a fly swatter and swat that poor little fly. Nonsense. You are the best, are you not? And I want the best. We are the best at making people disappear. Yes, and your prices are exorbitantly expensive. However, if I only require half of your services, perhaps I can get a half-off discount? Mr. Octagon, Chuck, I thank you so much for your story, for it's, it is amusing, especially all that bit about train cities. I really will try to visit sometime, but as I informed you, Amelia is the best at making people disappear. I do not believe

you want to disappear. Do you? Chuck. How well do you know little Ricardo exactly? Oh, he's a client. And a friend. Do me a favor. Open the window on your way out. That fly needs some air.

As do we all know. Chuck thought about defining graceful exit on his way out. But decided the moment had passed. He whooshed himself away like a frightened little rabbit. And the interviewer? Oh, he's very excited to meet his next guest. A bit of a celebrity. Alvina, is he here?

No, no, don't tell me. Please give him his cocoa. Top shelf. The Trinitario. Yes, the Trinitario. It is time. And let him in after he's had a sip. Okay. Right. Good day, sir.

How do you find the cocoa? Too proper? How do you find? Too British? My goodness, you'd think we were waiting for Godot here. I'm less impressed because this little celebrity crush is under my employment. In fact, I hired him to be a spokesperson for dozens of Legion products. On top of that, he convinced a trial jury to decide an outcome in my favor by bribing them.

So he's a loyal little subordinate, even if his burgers taste as wooden as his acting. And he's coming to the Amelia Project because Mark Wahlberg wants to die. Where am I? Welcome to Desert Skies, Traveler. Your journey through the physical plane has come to an end. I am the attendant. My colleague here is the mechanic. Yo!

This is your last stop on your way to the great beyond. It's our job to make sure you're prepared for the ride. Now, before hitting the road, we have an impressive selection of over 34 varieties of microwavable burritos. Um, what's going on? There's gotta be a better afterlife than this. I mean, come on! Uh, that's offensive. Something seems to be wrong.

You left something major undone. I have a life outside of this gas station, you know. You quite literally do not. Any hobbies? Nope. Ever travel? Nope. Love interest?

Are you kidding? Oh my god. You're like the human version of a plain bagel. Cash register. How can I help you, attendant? Play some music? You got it. It's kind of funny, though. What I needed wasn't back there. It was here, waiting for me. Play some music? You just need to be here. And a new traveler approaches. Ready, team? Ready.

Good. Let's do this. Find Desert Skies wherever you listen to podcasts. Looking to get out of the ads and back to the story? Fable & Folly Plus is a new way to support the creators you love. The podcast you're listening to right now and more than 60 others can be heard ad-free for as little as $4 a month by visiting fableandfolly.com slash plus. And now, you'll start to see Fable & Folly Network shows are offering bonus content to all existing and new supporters.

Find exclusive new episodes from shows like Civilized and Realms of Peril and Glory. Fable & Folly Plus. Sign up today at fableandfolly.com slash plus. How is the cocoa? Oh, it's hot. Of course it's hot. It's hot cocoa. But how is it? How does it taste? It's fine. It's just cocoa. Add one, add them all, you know? Add one! Ha ha ha ha. Yes, quite.

Well, um, that cocoa is hand-picked from rare blue-seeded Trinitario in specifically hard-to-reach rainforest areas of South America. You see, the rainfall is so intense, people drown nearly instantly from trying to look up in the air to get their bearings. The pulp around the seeds is a specialized combination of sweet and sour, making it extremely rare and exquisitely delicious. Trinitario types were produced by hybridization of Criollo and Forastero type cocoa varieties and combine the quality of Criollo with the productivity and disease resistance of Forastero. Seeds are large and rounded

and typically light purple to purple and available year round. However, this cocoa came from the rare blue seeds that the extra rainfall sweetens the flavor and creates a more robust, rich texture. Look Willy Wonka, I'm here to die, not talk chocolate. rich texture. Look Willy Wonka, I'm here to die, not talk chocolate. Why of course, why yes. Why are you speaking in a British accent? Because I'm British. No you're not, you were born in Boston, Massachusetts.

A troubled childhood, underwear model, musician, father of the Funky Bunch. That name no longer has any meaning to me. Funky? Bunch? Back of backstabbing... Backstabbing rats, that's what they are. Do you know what they said about my role as Bobby Shatford? The perfect storm. They said my performance

was inauthentic. They said my accent wasn't working class New England. They said I didn't look like I could catch fish if I was hanging out with Christ and his disciples. They said the only boat I've been on is my private yacht, Fuck Peach 69. Well, that part is true, I guess. Why did they say this?

Some trash mag article thought it would be amusing to have my filmography reviewed by the former funky bunch. I won't repeat what they had to say about I.R. Uckabees. I take it they did not art it. But still, the accent. Why the accent? Is it for a role? Isn't everything for a role? Why the cocoa? We give all our guests cocoa.

But for you, we picked the rarest blend. I've never even tried it myself. It's not often we have a celebrity of your caliber at Amelia. Only the best for Captain Leo Davidson. Who? You know, Planet of the Apes. Oh, right. I was in that, yes.

Superior remake to the original, if I do say. Even I don't think that's true. But in any event, the accent. I suppose a part of it is just trying to break down the idea of who Mark Wahlberg is. You know, shake up the image. People think Mark Wahlberg. They think tough guy, Bostonian, Dorchester, musician, tremendous actor, handsome leading man, action star, sex appeal, patriot, terrorism preventer, legal expert, PhD, surgeon.

Are these all roles you've played? No, this is me. But there's one thing they don't think of, which is British. But I'm going to change that word by word, interview by interview, and just when the world adds Great Britain to the long list of adjectives associated with a Mr Mark Wahlberg, I'll die. And much like your empire conquered the known world, so it will be with Mark Wahlberg conquering accents, but dominating the most difficult accent of them all. Right. Well, there's a lot to unpack there. But suffice it to say, you've come to Amelia to help with the dying part.

Yeah. You will help me fake my own death, and the world will mourn Mark Wahlberg, just like their mourning... Go on. Go on, Mark Wahlberg. Tell him. Tell him why you're really doing this.

Are you all right? Do you remember when we were on the set of The Departed, Mark Wahlberg? You had bullied me for years before that. Sending rattlesnakes to my front door concealed in a Dunkin' Donuts bag. Prank calling my girlfriend and telling her that if her fridge was running, she better dump Matt Damon and then go catch it. Writing fraudulent checks for millions to my favorite water charities

just so they could bounce. But all of that was nothing compared to what you did on the set of The Departed, Mark Wahlberg. You openly mocked my best friend, Ben Affleck. Every. Single.

Day. Oh, if he was such a good actor, he would be in this movie. Where is he, huh? Making Gilly 2? You got the entire cast and crew to laugh at Ben Affleck.

You got Alec Baldwin to laugh at Ben Affleck. You even got Martin Scorsese himself, the great master, to crack a smile when you said that Ben Affleck couldn't act his way out of a paper bag if he was using the oil rigging gear he had with him in Armageddon. Mr. British Waldo. Then it came time for you to kill me. Kill my character, Staff Sergeant Colin Sullivan, at the end of The Departed. You claimed to have been looking forward to it

ever since you read the script, boasting about it to craft services. And just before Marty yelled action, I came up to you and told you one thing. Look me right in the eyes when you pull the fake trigger. But you, Mark Wahlberg, could not do it. Could not fire the gun. You could not allow Staff Sergeant Sean Dignam to kill Staff Sergeant Colin Sullivan out of revenge for Staff Sergeant Colin Sullivan murdering State Trooper William Billy Costigan Jr.

You couldn't look me in the eyes. You asked Marty for a stunt double. Not for you, for me. But Marty refused. Marty wanted us both in the shot. So you begged. You got on your knees and begged him to send in your stunt double.

Enough. Oh, and you're back. Hi there. You were about to tell me who they were all mourning. Matt Damon. Right. Damon. Right.

For the uninitiated, poor departed Matt Damon sacrificed his life to save several lives, including his best friend Ben Affleck, when an out-of-control redline car malfunctioned due to a cheese robot driver programmed with the memories of a ghost. I promise this makes sense. Yes, so sad. I understand you ran into him shortly before his tragic accident. We fought on the very train he eventually sacrificed himself to save. Coward. If it were me, I would have found a way to save the train and live.

But now everyone loves him just because he died. And now it's my turn. I will die and the world will mourn me. There will be a movie made about my heroic sacrifice and it will be far better. Ah, I see. And have you thought about who you'd like to come back as? Someone anonymous who can sit back and appreciate the accolades from afar? Matt. Damon. Come again?

I will come again. As Matt Damon. And then I, as Matt Damon, will tell the world the truth about Mark Wahlberg. Mark Wahlberg is the one who really sacrificed himself, is the real transit hero, deserves a real movie about being a brave transit hero, and would never, ever send in his stunt double to kill Matt Damon in Departed.

That was all made up lies, and the only reason Mark Wahlberg didn't sue Matt Damon for the libel was because Mark Wahlberg is better than that. Mark Wahlberg is a true gentleman, a scholar, a PhD, a surgeon, a working class Bostonian, a Brit, and everything. Mark Wahlberg

is alive. So when can we get started? Mr. Wahlberg, can I tell you why I prefer your version of Planet of the Apes to the original? The original film ends with the discovery that the planet they have been on is Earth, after all. There's no release, no apparent victory. Just the discovery of an ancient civilization of humans,

quickly followed by the discovery that the ancient civilization is the same as the human species on George Taylor's version of Earth. The Statue of Liberty is destroyed. There's nowhere to go. Your version ends with the hero winning a major victory against the apes. Captain Leo Davidson returns home to Earth. See, in this version, the planet of the apes he has crash-landed on is indeed a different planet entirely. And yet, after returning home, he is doomed to discover the same fate. Apes have taken over the Earth. He crash-lands in Washington, D.C. to find a ghastly visage has replaced the Lincoln Memorial. Ape Lincoln. A former ape adversary is now seated on the throne of the Great Emancipator. It doesn't even make

sense. I asked Timmy B to explain it and he couldn't. He just felt like we needed to monkey around with some wacky twist. It doesn't have to make sense. No, you see, the fact that it's nonsensical hammers my point home even more. You can cheat death, battle an army of apes, fly back home in a spaceship, and still there you are in the same situation or worse. Changing the circumstances does not allow you to escape what you're dealing with. Not really. Is this one of those metaphors I've been hearing about? It is. You see, we specialize in people escaping here at Amelia. But from what you've told me, I'm not sure there's any escape for you. Wherever I go, damn dirty apes.

Damn dirty Matt Damon. You see, if you come back as a man who is dead and specifically praise yourself, people will scrutinize. People are going to ask questions. There'll be an investigation. Why was Mark Wahlberg around for months between when supposedly Matt Damon died and discovering the truth that it was actually not Matt Damon but Mark Wahlberg who died? But that's not the truth. Precisely. not the truth. Precisely. If you think people lionize Matt Damon, transit hero now, if you think that you're toiling in his, dare I say it, departed shadow now, imagine what it will be like

if people find out that not only is Matt Damon dead, but that Mark Wahlberg stole his identity, stole his heroics, and is attempting to change the narrative around his death to improve his own self-image. You won't be in the shadow anymore, Mark Wahlberg. You'll be the shadow. That does sound kind of cool, though. No. But I have money. No.

Lots of money. No. Is this because I didn't like your cocoa? No. I'm because I didn't like your cocoa? No. I'm a huge fan. I respect you so much. We'd love to work with you here at Amelia, but we cannot allow you to come back as Matt Damon. Someone with less profile, perhaps.

But not him. Not now. Did I mention I have lots of money? You did. Did I mention I'm Mark Wahlberg? Indeed. And you're saying... No? We are, I'm afraid.

Let me show you to the door. I can take that cocoa off your hands now if you're all set with it. No. Savor. Take that cocoa off your hands now if you're all set with it. No. Save her. No co. Right. And just like that, Mark Wahlberg's dream performance is destroyed. Which is where I come in.

You see, it's my job to keep Mark Wahlberg happy, after all. And when he came crying to me, my ears perked up about all the possibilities. The Amelia Project. Such a potent mix of professional pride and moral ambiguity. So many possibilities in how their talents might be put to use. And they really are very good at what they do. Oh, um, hello? Ah, right on time. Wonderful.

I do appreciate punctuality. On time? Yes, quite. Um, on time for what exactly? Well, for our interview, of course. Isn't that what you do here? It is, but I don't recall having an interview on my schedule for this afternoon. Oh, I took the liberty of scheduling it myself. You've taken the liberty of occupying my desk as well. Yes, that's true. I find there's power that comes with

the orientation of a desk. Faced toward a wall, it implies low status, a worker's arrangement, allowing one's superiors to peep in at any moment they like. Turn it around so that... I lose my place on this one. Turn it around so the occupant has full view of the office and its entrances, and suddenly you are in the seat of power.

Well, given that particular way of seeing things, why have you not taken the seat itself? Oh, I don't care for sitting. What? At all? Let's just say I'm not properly jointed for it. Oh, I do apologize. Had I realized we were discussing a disability, I wouldn't have pried so rudely. Oh, I didn't say it was

a disability, but I do appreciate your honesty. I wouldn't have pried so rudely. We both know you still would have pried if marginally more delicately. That's the whole of what you're about.

Well, I wouldn't say that is the whole of what I'm about. There's also my passion for the stage, my sparkling wit, and of course my deep and abiding love of cocoa. Yes, yes, every character needs some color to round him out, a few quirks and details to serve as signature and shorthand. Incidentally, I brought you a gift. Oh, an American candy. This should be a treat. Whoppers. Well, that sounds fun, doesn't it?

A nice, round sound to it. They look rather similar to Maltesers, don't they? Mmm. Oh, yes. That's a chocolate shell. Malticenter. Very reminiscent of Maltesers. Yes, they taste rather exactly what Maltesers would taste like if Maltesers tasted less...

good. Don't they just? Why did you give me these? For my amusement. After a few minutes, the disappointment will slip your mind. Later, without even thinking about it, you will pop another one into your mouth. Only to feel that wave of disappointment once more. You won't be able to help yourself. You'll keep doing this over and over until the whole box is empty.

And it'll make me smile every time. I fear our conversation has derailed somewhat. Yes, it derailed. Very appropriate. Appropriate? What? The conversation getting derai- Oh, no, you're one of those red line people, aren't you? In a manner of speaking, yes. Now, look here. The Amelia Project is not some run-of-the-mill rhinoplasty,

and we do not take on clients looking to stroke their vanity. I'm quite well aware of what you do here, Arthur. I... What? I'm sorry. Did you just call me Arthur? Of course. That's your name.

Well, one of them anyway. How do you know my name? I know it because you know it. Pump me full of custard, dip me in chocolate, and call me a Boston cream donut. Who are you? Did I forget to introduce myself? Shame on me. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Arthur.

I'm the narrator. That's not a name. Oh, that's rich coming from a protagonist consistently credited only as the interviewer. My line of work offers precious little opportunity to take credit at all, let alone to put my name to my accomplishments. Wait, protagonist? We're in similar positions.

A job title in place of a name. A role in life defined by an appellation. In both our cases, an intimate compulsion to collect stories and to tell them, and most crucially, to hear them. I rather suspect that we have very different motivations for doing so. Oh? Is the Melia project not in the business of making a profit? Did the Brotherhood of the Phoenix not charge for its services. Have you pivoted to charitable death faking at some point in the recent past?

Well, of course we need to make a profit, but that's hardly our primary purpose. And yes, as it happens, we do take the occasional charitable case. When you're not accepting diamond necklaces from the Queen of France. You've worked for dictators, criminals, and scoundrels of all sorts when the price is right.

Yes, yes, we take payment in exchange for our services. But if you're aware of our participation in the French Revolution, then you must also know that Marie Antoinette's own role was quite different from what history would have you believe. And I should know. I wrote that history. You are the client. I hope I'm not interrupting, but the message you sent by pneumatic tube said you needed

to speak with me right away. That was a delightful surprise. I did not know this office even had a pneumatic tube system. I don't believe I sent a message. Yes, that was me. Mr. Kozlovsky has a significant role to play in the arrangement I'm proposing. So I thought it best that he join us. This is the narrator.

He knows things because I know things, apparently. Not exclusively you, of course. How fascinating. What sort of arrangement are we discussing? A real win-win for all of course. How fascinating. What sort of arrangement are we discussing? A real win-win for all of us. Ha! The last person to say win-win and actually mean it was Mary Parker Follett herself, when she coined the term in her foundational works on reciprocal relationship management theory.

Yes, that one. A local to my neck of the woods, actually. Born in Quincy, Massachusetts. Not a client of yours, I don't think. No. Sadly, her death was quite genuine. I met her by way of one of your American presidents who consulted with her.

Yes, of course. How many of those have you done? American presidents? Three. Well, I would say three and a half. True, but that's much too complicated a story for just now. My point is, I suspect you're more of a power-over than a power-with sort of thinker. I'll admit, her ideas had a bit too much socialist flavor for my approach to business.

But you might be surprised. Deep down in the substrata of my being, I'm as communist as it gets. Ooh, do tell. No. Well, it's quite clear that you enjoy a certain parfum de mystère, but if you hope to have your death faked, I'm afraid you'll simply have to cough up the goods. Oh, we won't be faking my death. Should I ever feel a need to disappear, well, I could do that quite easily on my own.

Yes, I can see that you would. What? You can? Yes, but do not worry. Your secret is safe with me. Oh, I do love a good secret. Now, do not pry. We must respect our new friend's confidence as much as we hope he will respect our own.

What are you doing? He is attempting to read my thoughts. You could tell? I have encountered such powers before. You will find that my brain functions quite differently from most people's. You will not be able to access my mind, I am afraid. Very well. Let's get to the crux of it then. Surveillance.

That's what I'm offering. Legion, the corporation I represent, can give you access to the most invasive surveillance network the world has ever seen. A fully integrated system of AI driven personal assistant devices installed throughout the city of Redline and the Greater Boston area. A microphone in every home throughout the state of Massachusetts and more than a little of Rhode Island. Every time so much as mutters, I wish I could just disappear, their Legion assistant will run an ad for the Amelia Project

and even offer to dial the phone. Oh, my. With marketing like that, we would never miss a potential client. But I should think your other abilities could lead us to even more interesting clients. Oh my, yes. All the clients you could want and all of their stories. Stories? Well, I am the narrator after all. That's not a mere sobriquet. Choose anyone you like and I will tell you their story as best they know it themselves.

And what do you get out of this arrangement? What is the win-win? To begin with, we want Kozlovsky working for us directly. Now see here, you can't just come into my office expecting to poach my partner right in front of me! Consider the possibilities, Mr. Kozlovsky. You are already the best there has ever been at what you do. But Legion can give you resources, information, and facilities like you have never dared imagine. Combining your skills with our technology could advance your craft light years beyond what anyone else on earth is capable of conceiving. That is tempting. No, you wouldn't. Second, we want the product of your

services. But our service is just that? A service? I do not know what product you could mean. Why, all of those freshly laundered people. Of course. I don't need the Amelia Project to make Legion employees disappear. I need your clients to reappear as Legion employees. So much talent is wasted when you resurface a brilliant inventor as an amusement park mechanic or whatever. Instead of sending these great minds off into meaningless lives, send them to us. Turn your inventors into Legion engineers.

Turn your genius chemists into Legion pharmaceutical researchers. Keep doing what you do best. Give the client their death. Then leave it to us to give them their new life as part of Legion. That would not interest very many of our clients. People fleeing their old lives do not often wish to contribute the work that led them into trouble in the first place. That won't be an issue. I'm certain we can change their minds.

Oh? How so? Oh, well, by literally changing their minds. That's something we can do. Our work in phantasmimetic robotics has produced remarkable discoveries in the field of reprogramming people. This is where you come in, Mr. Kozlovsky. You're the best candidate to perform the neuroadjustment procedure. And you could do it at the same time as you install the client's new face. One-stop chopping. What could be better?

Reprogramming people? But that is monstrous! You already rewrite a person's entire identity, their role in history, the face they show the world. Isn't this just the next logical step in your process? You don't understand what we do here at all, do you? When I change a person's face, it is because they want a new face. You said yourself, I am dedicated to hearing our clients' stories. Why do you think that is? It's not merely for my amusement. It's vital to the process.

I plan a death and a new life that suits the person they are. Not some other person whom I'm rewriting them to be. Yes. What we do gives people choices. We offer them options, but they choose whether or not to take them. What you are proposing, that gives them no choice at all. You have spent all day saying no to clients. How many can you truly afford to turn down?

And as affronted as you like to look, Arthur, I know that my offer of secret stories of anyone you choose appeals to you. Ever since I first said it, the brightest thought running through your mind has been, I could know all the stories. All of them. has been, I could know all the stories. All of them. Well, of course that's tempting, but that doesn't mean I want it. Would it even mean as much to hear someone's story secondhand rather than in their own voice and words?

But, Arthur, I can give it to you in their own words. I'm that good. But you would take Kozlowski. Arthur, do you truly think this narrator can tempt me away from the work I have given many lifetimes to? There must be something you want. I told you, that will not work on me. If it's true that you can read my mind, Mr. The Narrator,

then I think you would best read what I'm thinking at you right now. Hmm. The interviewer stared daggers at this narrator person, whose offer would render the work of the Amelia project as tedious as it would contemptible. For the interviewer the most important thing about any client was whether their story was interesting. No story will ever be interesting again if every story ends in a legion laboratory, the interviewer thought., if this narrator has any decency at all, he would just go and, oh my, it gets rather rude after that.

Indeed it does. I think it is time that you should leave, Mr. Narrator. Fine. I suppose that's that then. I do hope you'll enjoy your continued financial struggles. I can show myself out. Well, what a repugnant fellow that was. So now that he's gone, what is his secret? Arthur, shame on you. You know I gave my word not to tell. Just a little hint. Absolutely not. Oh, well, this has certainly been a day of disappointments, hasn't it? Oh, there was still not a Malteser. Yes.

In order of appearance, tonight's cast featured Alexander Danner as the narrator, Jeff Andresen as Chuck Ostergaard, Julia Morizawa as Amelia, Ellen Bargain as the interviewer, Felix Trench as Mark Wahlberg, Zach Valeni as Matt Damon, and Hemiyer Raheim as Kuzovsky! With special thanks to Kat Howard and Oliver Morris,

Peter Foss, as created by Alexander Danner, Jeff Andresen, the Amelia Projects by Philip Thorne and Einstein Oldsbeck-Frager, Charlie on the MTAs, performed by Emily Peterson, and Jack Tiddy, The Amelia Projects by Philip Thorne and Einstein Oldsby-Fraga, Charlie and the MTAs performed by Emily Peterson, and Jack Tiddy, The Amelia Projects team by Frederick Varden, graphic design by Andrews Peterson! And don't forget the merchandise is available in the lobby. Thank you. Dungeons & Dragons, Russ Moore. And I'm your GM from the end of time and other bothers, Sean Howard. What we like to do around here is answer the questions that you have about tabletop RPGs and get you started feeling comfortable playing games around your table. We want to share our real experiences, what we've learned, what's been helpful,

so that other people can get going. And because a lot of these hurdles are just in their head. So find us every other week wherever you listen to podcasts or visit dm2gm.com. DM2GM. Get your game started.