Assassin.ly brought to you by Cloaked. Cloaked: a dating app for people who are in the murder business, and anyone who is into that. Are you fascinated by sexy, stealthy assassins and assassin-adjacent personnel? Do you love keeping up with the murder business, but don’t want to leave your lucrative career as a dog walker? Now you can date--or just get steamy with--someone who’s a part of it
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We have satisfied customers on both sides of the aisle
Customer 1: There aren’t any actual assassins on this app. Just guys named Tony who work for murderclean. Loving the murder business and dating an assassin is like loving cars and dating someone who works at enterprise.
Customer 2: My name is Tony and I work for murder clean. I thought no one would want to date a guy who comes home covered in people’s entrails every day. Effluvia, so to speak. My new girlfriend loves the smell of entrails. I ain’t unpacking that. It’s a little weird, but everyone’s happy.
I guess that’s our slogan--it’s a little weird, but everyone’s happy.
(end opening commercial)
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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