Mallory: From the borough murder committee? I love your work. No, I don’t actually know any of your work. Sorry.
Ben: So this isn’t about my...my mom?
Mallory: Do I need a lawyer for this?
Kill Witch: Should I call my doula for this?
Crystal Murderer: Clothes on or…?
Ben: I warn you, I’m surrounded by a hundred ghosts. OK, they all left. They weren't going to help me anyway.
None of them were lawyers.
Mallory: I mean, I’d call that guy who defended the Jacuzzi emporium but he...drowned in a jacuzzi.
CM: I’m just going to take the crystals out of my pockets and let them breathe on the chair. They need their space. And these jeans are like a little bit tight [clunking] aaaahhh
Mallory: I filed the paperwork! Ben sent it in.
Ben: the paperwork went straight into my cleanest trader Joe’s bag.
KW: I don’t even write my spells down. Do you know what writing her name down can do to a witch? I just wiped some blood on my subletting agreement.
Mallory: What do you mean, background check? Do I look like the FBI?
KW: I consulted a number of psychics, dowsers, drowsers, and the Genie from Aladdin. The animated film. He’s available online for a nominal fee.
CM: It’s just the moonstone doesn’t like being around the aquamarine, and onyx gets all panicky in my pocket. They have a lot of needs and moods. No, there’s nothing wrong with me. I’m a servant of the crystals. [pause] No, you’re right I wouldn’t have passed a background check. Maybe in the 3rd grade. Just kidding. My pencils were way too sharp back then.
Mallory: I mean, I checked their facebook profiles. Crystal’s politics say “murder.”
Ben: my mom told me I had to get a job. Mom…
Mallory: I don’t think we’re required to have this payroll you speak of. If I don’t have a social security number, why should anyone else?
Ben: She said I’d get royalties for the murders. The real money is in royalties.
Mallory: My mom said Santa took my social security card away.
KW: Yes, I can confirm the Drano came from family dollar. It’s actually a much more caustic chemical known as Dollar-o. You’ll have 80% less pipe at the end. It’s the leading cause of drano dripping on your downstairs neighbor’s head.
Mallory: Of course I filled paperwork out and printed it. No, I didn’t submit it to anyone! It was on the computer! Registered what?
Ben: You told me this room was for grief counseling! You don’t even have tissues! I’m bereaved! [pause] Sorry, bereft.
CM: Oh, yeah, I have all my crystals registered at family dollar. I got a guy. We go into family dollar and do the transactions. He’s kind of the only person who looks me in the eye anymore.
Mallory: I can’t give you a complete list of my addresses. Mausoleums don’t have addresses!
KW: I failed the evaluation based on my outfit? What do you have against upcycled mousepads?
CM: That’s...not surprising. I’ve actually never passed any sort of evaluation. I don’t even have my learner’s permit or a library card. Did you know you could fail the SAT? And the questionnaire to get a Stop N Shop club card. [laughs] Yeah they were pretty much doomed when they hired me.
Mallory: You’re going to do WHAT to us? You can’t! We have investors!
Ben: Can’t you at least give me a few hours? [pause] To use the bathroom. Can I have a ginger ale? And some capers? It’s my comfort food.
Assassinly - because sometimes you don’t want to share a pizza
Approximately 4 of you reached out to us with investment offers. All of which were $15 or less. So, um, thank you for your generosity and confidence. From the bottom of my heart. A special thank you to Julie, who tried to mortgage her house but the bank wouldn’t let her, because she rents. Tough, tough realities all around.
For our big surprise from last time. I know you’ve been wondering about it, googling, responding to Ben’s marketing emails with a flirty “unsubscribe!” well, here it is: Ben has secured us a spot in the hastily-put-together, confusingly publicized murder games. We’re hoping that will lead to some investment capital when we prove ourselves murdersome. We’re up against some big box murderers. They actually use boxes to do their assassinations--it’s kind of cool if you haven’t seen it. We could really make a name for ourselves.
Entries to the Murder Games are donation-based and tiered depending on company size. We’re four employees. Our required donation was three thousand dollars and a box of cheez-its. We tried to see if they would take only cheez-its. We are still negotiating.
Ben: If your cousin who made the app counts as an employee, which I think he does, it’s 19 thousand and 2 bags of cheetos.
Mallory: To raise money, we are going to sell your mom’s bakery cart. Her muffins are a crime against humanity.
Ben: That’s a playschool kitchen set she put wheels on, those aren’t muffins, and she’s a local treasure. People tag her on instagram.
Mallory: Those aren’t muffins?
Ben: They’re 70% play-doh. Stop eating them. They’re art and they sell for $50 each. I hate having to explain where they went.
Mallory: [confused] She puts one on my plate every time I come upstairs.
Ben: She’s just putting them on a plate and you are assuming they’re for you. She doesn’t know that you’re living here.
Mallory: She doesn’t know I’m living in her basement?
Ben: I don’t tell my mom everything. I have some secrets. Also stop eating capers out of the fridge. Trader Joe’s discontinued them and they are the main ingredient in my caper breakfast smoothie.
Mallory: You can get capers in other places!
(Calmer) Anyway. You might be wondering, what are the murder games? One of the events is probably having Ben’s breakfast smoothie and a side of his mom’s muffins without crying. The Murder Games involves competing in a series of games against other assasination companies and their specialists, just the way Subway names America’s Best Sandwich artist every year in a 6-episode primetime miniseries. Love your banana pepper work, Marco.
Ben: Marco, if you are listening, we are beyond honored. You made me and Mallory cry on night 4. We had dreams about how precise your 6-inch cut was. I bet your friends don’t fight over the bigger half..
Mallory: The Consolidated Board of Murder, the accrediting body for assasination companies in New York, let us compete in the Muder Games as an act of good-faith, and also because most other small companies can’t afford the donation. We...really can’t either.
Ben: You don’t think they could be using us to show everyone just why they should go with the professional experience of big box murderers who have an actual address?
Mallory: is that why they misspelled our company name on the team jersey? Ass-ly. I thought it was a stylistic choice. Or a character limit issue.
Ben: Do you think the giant macrame butt on the front was also a stylistic choice?
Mallory: I thought that was the logo for the murder games.
Ben: I’m not sure why they would go with that one.
Mallory: If they are mocking us, it would be mean-spirited. Bullying, even. We take clients they don’t take on principle. We deal with your trash, Murder-fi! And we treat them like treasure!\
Ben: um, maybe don't’ crap all over our clientele.
Mallory: I’m still a female CEO and I crap where I please! So, two of our mostly registered assasins, Kill Witch and Crystal Murder, who figured out how to take the L train, thank you for asking, are gearing up for round 1. Ben and I are part of round 2. Ben, tell everyone what Kill Witch and Crystal have to do.
Mallory: What do you mean, why? Because I delegated that to you.
Ben: That’s multitasking. It’s easier if you just finish your sentence yourself. You were already thinking about it. I’m not your trained monkey!
Mallory: Jeez. I throw my coat on you one time and suddenly I’m Meryl Streep in that movie. For round 1 they have to kill a real mark. Whoever filed the paperwork to have these people killed signed a waiver and got a serious discount. The public will know who they are, but I think they get a coupon for half off their next murder, too. Are they less human than other people who have their friends and relatives killed on cable tv Twitch? I’m not an ethicist, but, definitely.
Ben: Fun fact: there’s a 2 in 5 chance the people who filed the paperwork will be murdered, too.
Mallory: That is an estimate based on people we both know, and maybe not that fun, but, yes. Kill Witch and Crystal will be scored on stealth, precision, creativity of the murder--because we want or marks to go out in style, we’re not monsters--and time. They’re scored on a 1-10 in each category. So, an ideal murder would happen in 4 minutes in a back alley with a poison icing-covered grappling hook. Or after hours at a state fair with an assassin dressed up like a clown. From behind at work from someone dressed up like an old-timey saloon bartender, but no one ever sees them. You get the picture.
Ben: Do you just make this stuff up?
Mallory: No, these are suggestions on the rule cards. See, it even says here, “you get the picture.”
Kill Witch’s mark is someone’s racist grandma. She is being assassinated on charges of bad gifts, terrible gifts, forgetting to brush her teeth for several days and getting in close to talk, yelling at her grandkids for not wearing socks, and, of course, racism. Ben, do you think it’s a social good to do away with old racists?
Ben: [I don’t know noise]
A very philosophical answer from someone who can talk to racist grandmas after they die. Aaand crystal murderer will be taking care of a 3rd grade bully. Everyone knows bullies don’t get better after the 3rd grade. Their cuteness dries up. They either start hurting small animals, stealing their mom’s credit card, or pretending to have glamorous lives on instagram just to make their classmates and parents feel bad. Where did you go for spring break, Devon? Oh, you went to Iceland and hung out in the blue lagoon with Captain America? [getting more agitated] That was your family’s above ground pool that you dropped dry ice into, you monster. Captain America was your brother’s leg in a blue and red cast because you have no self-control.
Then they’re all, I spent the weekend kayaking in the Delaware. It was dreamy AF. Don’t lie. You were going to visit your grandma, who has cancer. Not even the dramatic kind that will kill her. Just the kind that makes your parents spend a lot of time cleaning her house and lighting her blunts. And don't act like you drove to her house yourself. We all know the backseat when we see it.
Ben, to prove we’re better than this kid, and that we have awesome lives, let’s take a selfie to commemorate this moment.
Ben: It’s called a selfie. Take it of yourself.
Mallory: That’s a misnomer. A selfie alone is sad. It means you have no friends. A selfie with others is a memory. Watch.
Ben: Hey! Don’t photo me! You don’t have a release! And you’re getting way off track. Do you think our shareholders care about the existential definition of a selfie?
Mallory: In the murder games, there is no off track!
Ben: there absolutely is! It’s timed!
Mallory: Ben is way less tolerant of my quirky nonsense today.
Ben: I told you--it’s not quirky nonsense. It’s irritating inconsistencies. You ate playdoh muffins, you monster. You’re off the rails!
Mallory: I’m being called off the rails by someone who drinks chicken soup instead of coffee in the morning.
Ben: It has way more caffeine!
Mallory: Wow, Ben. I think you need to take a chill pill. And that ghost, Cornelia, doesn’t even love you. She’s just using you to talk to her great, great, great grandchildren.
Ben: (whispering) She’s in the room right now!
Mallory: Sure she is, Ben.
Ben: There is no deeper connection than between a ghost and her medium.
Mal: Is that what you told her? Can she hear me? Cornelia?
Ben: it’s Cordelia!
Mallory: Corndelia, I think you’re a fraud and you killed that judge. I think Hamilton glossed over some of the more vile, hot oil-related aspects of your life
Ben: Cordelia has no association with Lin-Manuel Miranda! We’re working on making libel cases legal after death. The dead still have feelings and they can still be mocked to their core!
Mallory: She should be honored that people remember her. Unlike this racist grandma. What is her name? We can’t say it; privacy laws and all, but it’s probably Constance, Ethel, Thelma, Harold, something like that. We’re going live to watch the events unfold from our headquarters. Kill witch is at the senior center and there are multiple cameras to catch cheating at bingo and card games, which happens often. Often multiple times per hour. You won’t believe the number of people who “misehear” B3 as E7. Kill witch is in a secluded location brewing her potion. We can see from her body cam...and that it is straight drano. I hear drano is an ingredient in a lot of witches’ brews going back to the 1700s. Ben can verify.
Ben: there were a lot of real witches burned in Queens. They made people drink drano and told them it was absinthe. They added a little paper umbrella for authenticity. That’s why we put tiny paper umbrellas in fancy drinks today.
Mallory: That’s a Queens fact! Here’s another: In the 90s they put witches in Arkham asylum.
Ben: Currently known as Azkaban.
Mallory: OK, it appears that Kill Witch is usinga plastic cauldron from Party City. Very popular in October. My mom bought 2 of them. Did she need two? No, but there were 2 left and the kid behind her wanted one for his Hermione costume. Anyway, the cauldron is dissolving quickly at the plastic seam on the bottom. I feel like most people would have seen that coming. Perhaps one of the 438 psychics Kill Witch corresponds with on instagram could have helped her there.
I bet this is all part of Kill Witch’s plan. She operates in mysterious ways, many of which start off like this, like that time we thought a skunk was chasing her and she threw it through someone’s window.
Ben: That was just on her way to lunch.
Mallory: Or that time we thought she was going to peacefully unplug someone’s life support, but instead she injected their IV drip with digitalis and arsenic.
Everyone at the senior center is currently taking part in canasta games in various stages and various levels of anger. The mark is currently in an altercation with another player. She called her an old shriveled titty. This would make sense if I knew how canasta was played, I’m sure it’s something offensive you yell when you win, like with old maid.
Mallory: You point and say, haha, you saggy weirdo, you’re the old maid, not me. That’s what my mom would always say. We play on Christmas and, weirdly, I’ve never won. It’s gotten increasingly poignant over the years. She says I’m allowed to stop the “tradition” when I finally win a game.
Let me assure you that there is not a body in this room without at least one shriveled titty. And that’s fine. Man or woman, breast cancer survivor or no, that’s just life. Your titties shrivel. Other things shrivel, expand, or get filled with stuff. Like how grandma’s tooth was completely hollowed out and filled with bacon and condensed milk.
Ben: Thank you for being so body positive.
Mallory: You’re welcome. I try, mom. OK, so, kill witch is coming out of the janitor’s closet
Drano is positioned in the cauldron like a beer in a margarita, a coronarita if you will.
Drano is dripping, dripping, dangerously close to her thighs. Be careful, Kill Witch: This could lose you points. Also, um, I care about your personal safety.
She’s inching toward the light switch. Mind you, she’s wearing about four pounds of silver and bells on her wrists. Fortunately, age comes for your hearing. That’s why seniors looove wind chimes. They don’t know they make a sound.
Ben: She thinks the bells keep spirits away.
Mallory: it doesn’t work?
Ben: Only for the spirits of bears.
OK, Kill Witch has turned off the lights. They should call her kill switch, eh? Eh?
Ben: [grunts, annoyed] I think that’s the pun she was going for. Cordelia hated that one, too. She says leave the comedy to the professionals, like John Wilkes Booth.
Mallory: Ouch. I can see the light of a hundred iphones. I estimate she has between 14 seconds and 3 minutes before someone gets to the switch. Oh, she’s done it! There’s screaming. The lights are back on. The horror, the horror.
Kill witch has dropped the cauldron full of Drano on grandma’s head and slit her throat with a not very good razor. Kill Witch maybe didn’t sharpen her tools, or she used the wrong edge. Or, she’s a clever witch and wanted to make her escape! Grandma is bleeding out, drano dripping all over her, and everyone is crowding around. Ben, I can’t watch.
Ben: Then don’t. Think of muffins instead.
Mallory: This, everyone, is a truly masterful kill. Kill Witch is writhing on the floor, doing kind of a side worm, oof, it looks like she went down on some of the drano, going between two chairs and under a table. Good thing senior centers love long tablecloths.
The other seniors are gathering around, staring, crying, calling for lestoil and scrubbing bubbles, or just playing their game of canasta because they’ve made peace with death in their midst. Kill Witch is everything and nothing. She is drama and mundanity. She is a witch of skill and craft. And, very worrying, she is badly in need of medical attention. By the law she must either wait in silence until the body is gone and canasta is finished, or slither out unnoticed.
And now we wait. Ben, can you get the timer out?
Ben: You know, you have a phone. Unless your grandma turned that off, too.
Mallory: Ah, hang on, I see the table cloth moving. Kill Witch is emerging from under the table in a gray wig and her most outdated, bleach-stained sweatpants. It looks like they were used as an ashtray. She walks with a limp that could be real. Her face is wrinkled mostly from pain but maybe also from smells. Senior Centers are not known for good smells. Her pockets are bulging with what looks like counterfeit bingo balls.
Ben: they’re called dabbers.
Mallory: She’s dropping the balls on the floor--I don’t know why, that just seems malicious with all those walkers around and and all that drano--and making her way out. They’re bouncing like hailstones Seniors are tripping, half a dozen people have fallen into the Drano streaks. Some of them are diving on the floor for the bingo balls, because they’re cheaters and maybe not very discreet.
Ben: Discreet cheaters rob casinos and don’t play canasta at senior centers that smell like pea soup.
Mallory: Kill Witch heads for the door, sweatpants revealing a little bit of crack.
Mallory: People need details! A senior center employee asks if they can call her an access-a-ride but she shoves them over. OK, that was uncalled for.
Well, I think we can agree that was masterful.
Ben: Can we?
Mallory: I was a little bit skeptical, and Kill Witch is mean to me and spent all my money on lint rollers, so there’s a part of me that wants her to stink at her job. But it was expert, worthy of our boutique label and a much higher price point. The assasination blogs will talk of nothing else. That was high-quality murder at its finest.
Ben: Or was it forgettable, crude slapstick comedy from the 80s?
Mal: Take note Ben’s critique of women supporting and holding up other women. Crystal Murderer is next, and she is a wildcard.
Ben: More like a hack who makes it up as she goes.
Mallory: I know you’re jealous
Ben: it’s like they didn’t even read the rules.
Mal: Good feminists don’t play by the rules. Our second target seems to have changed. That’s good because Chrys sometimes screams uncontrollably when she sees a child. Let’s see who it is. [pauses, nervous] Actually, before we get started on the next segment, Ben, can you go upstairs and make me one of your world famous breakfast enemas?
Ben: No. And they’re already getting started.
Mal: Go! Hurry up! And don’t come back until it’s fully liquid. You know that’s how I like it.
Mal: Ok, this is a conflict of interest, clearly. We have to stop this. I don’t know if I can stop it forever, but we--Assassinly--can’t do this. Here is the description of our next Murder Games target:
There’s a woman in Astoria who goes around selling 70% play-doh cupcakes for $50 a pop. She’s simultaneously infantilizing herself and degrading what it means to be an artist. Everyone thinks it’s so cute and endearing and authentic, and I can’t stand what she’s doing. It has to stop. There are actual hard-working artists out there. It’s making everyone dumb. Also, she’s been shoplifting from my dollar store every day for the past 4 years. Our profit margins are thin.
That’s it. There’s only one person this could be. I’m going to fix this. I am texting the game manager. Ok, they’re writing, writing. Still writing. Now it’s white. They're writing again. [text noise] They say, This is legal murder. There are no conflicts of interest. Well, that is unhelpful.
There ARE. That was the point of the legislation. That’s...not acceptable. I’ll tell Crystal to hold off while we get this sorted out.
[texting noises] Game off do not proceed.
Crystal is getting in her car. She’s buckling up. Sometimes her phone doesn’t work because it has a crystal case, and she’s replaced a lot of the parts she’s dropped in the toilet with crystals. She says crystals are very magical and her energy is very unpredictable. Ben says it’s just been on silent for--Oh, poor Ben.
Ben’s mom is out with her playschool kitchen. Someone bought a blue muffin near an actual muffin shop. The bakery owner is sneering a lot. Being a successful woman is hard. She might not know we live in the same house, or that I exist and Ben knows me, but she’s way nicer to me than my actual mom, and lets me eat way more capers.
Crystal is driving down a street. She’s close. I know that bagel place, Appetizing Bagels Deli Toasty.
I’ll tell Ben’s mom so she knows. She’ll come home. It won’t be legal to kill her anymore anymore. The dollar store owner will have to reapply.
[calling frantically] Ben! Ben! I need you to text your mom to come home!
[calmer, but still tense] Crystal shouldn’t be driving anyway. Her license is suspended. A cop actually burned it the last time she made her own highway exit. He said it was better for everyone, especially homeowners. Maybe I can get a cop to pull her over.
Oh, no. Ben’s mom is crossing the street. She’s looking at her phone. No, no, no.
[Ben walks in just in time to see his mom mowed down by a car]
Ben: Stop barking orders at---Oh...oh, no.
Mallory: That...there’s nothing left. Shards of plastic, a playschool hamburger, [voice breaking] colorful muffin crumbs all over the road like chunky new-yorkey pixie dust. I never noticed they were rainbow inside.
Ben. I’m so sorry.
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Assassin.ly - Because getting a promotion at work doesn’t have to be that tough
You cannot have subway performers murdered. It’s problematic for a number of reasons. Even this brave new world doesn’t want to touch that. You don’t even know their names. Like, who even are the go-time girls?
Bringing you some sensitive news--personally and familially. Grandma has pulled the plug, cut the cord, taken away our lifeblood. Her condo equity loan finances us no more.
Thanks, mom, AKA JUDAS!
And before you all go sending me unpunctuated emails saying that my mom just had grandma’s “best interest” in mind, and remind me that 4 psychologists testified that grandma was not of sound mind, it wasn’t that mom was trying to protect grandma. And one of those psychologists was my third cousin Dave, who has one eye, so he doesn’t even count.
It was that mom wanted to diversify her portfolio. Mom wants to launch an etsy store that sells custom knitted potholders and baby bibs. Custom meaning in the color you want, or the closest acrylic yarn she could find.
Mom wanted startup capital, knitting classes, tea, a comfortable chair, and a car to drive to Michaels because you can’t carry all that yarn on the long island railroad.
Ben: What did she say when you said that?
Mallory: Mallory James, you had your fun and now it’s my turn. Your thing is killing people and mine is bringing joy to the world with crafts. If both sides of the aisle can’t talk to each other, what are we going to do?
I asked if Dad’s social security was enough to cover some yarn. She said I didn’t understand marketing.
To be fair, she put up with more of grandma’s crap than I did
Ben: The wooden spoon sounds like a harsh mistress
Mallory: But I had to go potpourri shopping with her. And clean up after her cats.
Ben: You mean clean the litter box?
Mallory: Grandma doesn’t believe in litter boxes. She believes in shag carpets. [pause]
I’m going to be straight with you. We are in a difficult position: we need to fundraise.
I know I taunted all of you about not needing funding earlier, and made up a little song
Ben: it was more of a jingle
Mallory: Everyone, I’m not sorry for taunting you or burning that taunt into your minds like a 3rd-grade bully. Good leaders never apologize. What I did was right in the moment and receives no further context. We are succeeding with subscription pricing.
Our overhead costs are low. We’re not paying for accounting software. Our app is live-ish on apple and Zune OS. Assassin.ly has a band of merry murderess occult killers who will do it in style.
Ben: With minimal bungling!
Mallory: What more could you ask for?
Ben and I are working off the assumption that if you have time to listen to this, you’re either deeply unemployed, independently wealthy, or retired.
Ben: Or a hipster looking for the next thing no one can find.
Mallory: No matter which category you fit into, you’re looking for an opportunity and maybe even an experience. Retired people love experiences. It’s so hard to find new ones. By that point you’ll have gone to Hawaii or at least watched a movie about it. Depending on your age, you might not know the difference.
Well here it is. Don’t spend that sweet pension on your ungrateful daughter’s knitting business. Invest in legally vetted murder subscriptions at competitive prices.
Worried about your immortal soul? Remember: If it’s legal, it’s ethical. I think St Peter said that.
[Exhales] How was that?
Ben: you might need to work on the pitch.
Mallory: Cut and print! Do you have any idea where that phrase came from?
Ben: That’s the way my mom says cut and paste.
Mallory: Charming. In short, investors, one at a time, please. If we did a good job, you get a piece of the pie. So, show your support
Here are some other promos we’ve been working on to fund in the meantime. You get a free souveneir wine glass from a failed winery called Brooklyn Fermentery with every murder. We don’t know why it works, but we’re up 400%. It turns out you can only grow grapes for so long in prospect park before someone calls the bomb squad.
Ben: I also started sending out a newsletter.
So far, more than 2 people have signed up. Including my mom and Mallory. I try to give everyone a little something extra, bring something new to their day. We have this week’s murder highlights on our instagram, blooper reel--
Mallory: I told you, that’s not a blooper reel!
Ben: Industry news, links to some memes I like that no one else seems to get, and some stories about Mallory’s uncle Gerald.
Mallory: Thanks to everyone who reached out and told me that uncle Gerald was a crapbag. It means a lot to me.
Ben: It was one person. Mallory celebrated by buying herself a box of frozen cocktail wieners and not letting me have any.
Mallory: They took a long time to thaw. I was starving.
Ben: Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?
Mallory: We’ve also started offering merch. Our research showed that there weren’t enough openly inflammatory t-shirts on the market, so we developed some products. Had a brainstorm sesh. Listened to people yelling on the subway. Very legit. So, we’ve got mugs and tumblers that say I had my [blank] assassinated, if you choose to self-identify. We have shirts that say We #legalizedit so #dealwithit. Assassinate or be assassined. That was a misprint. My fault, and we ordered a thousand of them. But we’ve still sold a few. I think it has kitsch value. I bought one for each of us as a gift.
And, somehow our most popular t-shirt, Don’t mess with me: I have a subscription to a legally vetted assassination service.
Ben: The back says “And I’m not afraid to use it.”
Mallory: I felt that part was unnecessary, but I guess some people appreciate the thoroughness.
I am required to disclose that all these products are banned in most workplaces. But, weirdly, not at church. And, most churches ask that you wear clothes, soooo.
Ben: Most churches?
Mallory: Not the one Uncle Gerald tried to take Grandma to. He got three of his cats there, and an OK used car, too.
KW: Excuse me?
Mallory: (surprised) Kill Witch, you finished what was meant to be a very long ikea trip?
Ben: Oh, God. How did she get through IKEA so fast? It was supposed to distract her for at least three hours. THe meatballs alone should have taken 45 minutes.
KW: Oh, I didn’t want to go all the way to that would have meant going all over the store, and all the way to Brooklyn. I just went to home goods and got a cart full of lint rollers instead. Don’t worry, I spent just as much money, and eliminated a hundred times as much lint. So, I’m up?
Mallory: Even though she doesn’t really need to, Kill Witch wanted to contribute a segment called, Potions my coven doesn’t endorse. So, here she is. Hopefully this appeals to someone.
KW: I’m so excited to share these occult secrets with everyone. Here’s a recipe for a magic munchie. So you take the celery, and you’re gonna chop up the celery. A little peanut butter, some raisins. And, my personal favorite, salsa verde and ketchup.
Mal: That just sounds like ants on a log. That you ruined.
KW: Try it.
Mal: You didn’t even say what it was supposed to do.
KW: It’s just an appetizer before you get your tarots cards read. Not every potion has to DO something, Mallory.
Mal: Isn’t that kind of their schtick?
KW: Don’t tell me about potions and I won’t tell you about running a business.
Mal: But you do. You wrote me 40 pages of recommendations and had them spiral-bound at kinkos. Most of them were just snacks you wanted. You sent 14 hand psychics here and told them they were on payroll. Do you know how awkward that is? You said we should kill famous people just to get our names out there. Listed celebrities that you felt “stole your thing,” some of that being “having an instagram account” or “wearing flare jeans” or “wanting to go to Bucharest.”
KW: It’s the most haunted city.
Mal: Do you want to do a practical potion that showcases your skills? And maybe helps our listeners a little?
KW: Well, you’re putting me on the spot. Fine, um. How to get rid of unwanted parking tickets. I do this at least 3 times a week for myself.
Mal: Unwanted parking tickets? Are there parking tickets you want?
KW: (annoyed) I don’t know your kinks. Maybe sometimes I just want to feel like someone thought of me, noticed me taking up space next to a fire hydrant or in a crosswalk. It’s like getting a letter from the mail on your windshield while you’re buying scratch-offs. Maybe there’s a police officer you want to curse, and you need his handwriting.
Mal: I’ve gotten 14 parking tickets this year and they’re all digital. No handwriting. They’re onto you.
Ben: She doesn’t even have a car.
Mal: it’s true. I just stepped into the bus lane to give my mom some space when she asked for it.
Ben: Her mom doesn’t want her on the same sidewalk when she’s mad.
Mallory: Mom needs her space. You don’t want to be near her when she’s like that anyway. She gets loud and accuses me of a bunch of crimes in, like, a weird amount of detail. Cannibalism, stealing a subway car and selling the technology to the soviets, vagrancy. Well, that one’s sort of true, and being the worst piece of crap daughter Queens has ever seen. That may seem very specific, but Queens is famous for having the worst daughters, like Awkwafina and Fran Fine.
Ben: Or Kevin James
Mallory: The cops hear. They always hear, and I think they kind of know us now. They give me a parking ticket sort of as a compromise to calm her down. We don’t really go to Best Buy together anymore. Except next week. I said I’d go next week.
Kill witch: [clears throat] How do you take care of parking tickets? Here’s the best way. Get your slow cookers out, witches, and cook up your best stew. Instead of adding spices, add the parking tickets. If you have one, put them in your spice grinder first. Then, cook them in the slow cooker for a long, long time. I like to cook mine for a few days because it makes the magic stronger and electricity is included in your SRO.
Now, here’s the important part. As delicious as your salsa picante sriracha lentil soup is, don’t eat it yourself. Feed it to your friends, and then your friends have the parking tickets.
Mallory: I’d be really suspicious of the stew you just gave me last week if I actually thought this worked.
KW: I know you can’t afford parking tickets. That one had my pubes.
Mallory: (outraged) WHY?
Kill witch: Please subscribe on youtube!
Mallory: Kill Witch, please go return every one of those lint rollers. Oh, I see, you used them all. OK, um, finally, let’s look at some murder and murder-adjacent job updates.
Ben put together someone’s bookshelves. It only took him 7 hours.
Ben: They paid me thirty five bucks and I got to keep the extra screws.
Mallory: He spent it on hot sauce.
And, listeners, Ben’s neighbors paid me $20 to watch their cats while they were away. Ka-ching! I opened some cans of tuna. We shared them. I’m gonna spend that money on more tuna, branded for cats. It’s actually pretty good. Oh, and Crystal murderer was hired to kill some roaches at a house in Bensonhurst. She was unsuccessful. It’s very hard to stab roaches with crystals. But she charges by the hour and she’s still there. They made her breakfast. And dinner the night before that, and lunch. They may or may not be swingers.
Ben: Yup, they’re swingers.
Mallory: Hi, Chris! I hope you’re listening.
We’re also working on something big--beyond doing good in the community and helping people with menial tasks for less than minimum wage. We can’t say anything for now, but as soon as we can, you’ll be the first to know, and the first with the option to contribute money.
And, finally, Grandma, you don’t have to listen anymore. Actually, I’d prefer it if you didn’t. Mom, too. You’re just using it to get sympathy from your friends because of your terrible daughter, just like that time you had to take me to soccer and play with a last place team every Saturday morning for 6 whole weeks. Yes, it was my fault the entire team lost and I didn’t deserve pizza and ice cream. I’ll never do it again. Stop bringing it up.
Ben: Until next time!
Mallory: Yes, next time.
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Sam Barbaro is a writer for the Fearsome Morning Podcast and Assassin.ly.