Sonic Society #903- Museum Musings

You are listening. Mutual audio. Welcome home. The following audiodrama is rated R and is recommended restricted for anyone under the age of 17. That's better. It was getting a little cramped being in the tortoise for so many episodes. So where are we now? Well, we're both in the Sonic Society, the world's largest and longest running showcase of modern audio drama. I'm David Alt, and you're Chao

Board. Yes, I knew that. I was thinking less generally and more specifically. This looks like a massive hallway for some place. It's the Sound Museum, and this week we're looking for the Curio Gallery. Why are we looking for that? Well beyond the fact that it'll help anchor the RSS fe to this excellent show, it also means we could try to find something to help feed Zug. Yeah.

Yes, I'm sorry to say, but the old monster could use a new phone in line. It's been ages since we've had one, and ZD net has gone dark. If we have a new line, that would give Zug a whole lot more food. Assuming people are still interested in calling in. Well there is that. But I think the Curio Gallery is this way. So it all begins right here. On the Sonic Society. Esther Slate.

Acoustician, inventor, musician, paleontologist, an enigmatic polymath of the late eighteenth century, best known for the creation and development of the technique known as noise bewilderment. The notorious recluse was dismissed and shunned by her contemporaries for the majority of her career. However, today, her journals and many bewilderment instruments Are coveted by private collectors from around the globe, where they sell for thousands at auction and provide the academic benefit.

work for historians and physicists alike. Esther Slate's creations are almost as strange as the woman herself. Taking the shape of anything from bike horns to grand pianos. The commonality between the instruments, however, is the otherworldly overtonality that is yet to be replicated. I have crafted these objects. Fool's blueprints, Esther Slate once wrote, is

Where shape gives birth to ineffable sound. Esther Slate's works remain some of the great treasures of the Sonic world, inspiring those who listen to push further beyond. Her legacy invites us all into the realms of the acoustic ethereal and the imaginatively. Bizarre.

All right. All right. All right. Stay calm. Oh my God, it's fine. I'm calm. I don't. We've had dupes before, but this one, it seems legit. How do you find these? I swear you're like a mouse to cheese. I take that as high praise. Oh you should. Mice are rock and roll, and so is cheese. So what's the slate? Squeaky toy? ДИНАМИЧНАЯ МУЗЫКА We don't know. Sloane, did you just call the geek out about Esther Slate to me again? Because you know you could just count.

I like hearing you talk about Esther Slate. This is for This is real. These, I promise, it's legit. My sources are buzzing about fresh, authenticated slate that has just got its way into the Gurio gallery. It's Just got its way into the curio gallery. I want the sound clean and I want it. For professional reasons, of course. There's Ivan't the foggiest of what you're implying. Right, right.'Cause you you'd never use company resources for your own personal obsession.

Sound is a must-have for any sound institution. Oh sure, sure. And and and our museum just happens to must have. Eight. Taking us in possession of the largest collection of bewilderment instruments in the world. Thank you very much. Right. Which is a huge draw for yes. Right. So what? If she happens to be my personal hero. Yeah. Irrelevant, sure. So what if my dissertation was about practical applied psychoacoustics and bewilderment noise? Right.

And so what? If I published a few dozen articles on Slate's body of work. Living Esther Slate Historic. Okay, now you're just bragging. Look, my point is this is about the museum. I am but a humble curious. You're very cute when you get psyched out of your mind about something, you know that? The artifact is waiting. So off you go. Come with me! Oh, I wanna be there when you hear it! Oh parrot.

It's killing me, but I can't. Our Insect Songs exhibit opens today and I've been putting out Fires since seven in the morning. Ugh, quit your job. Come hang out with me instead. You know what? Done. You're fired, and so am I. No now hang on, I've got a partner to So wh o am I going solo to uh Curio gallery. Gross. Those things give me high. I know, but it will be totally worth it once you get out. Sleep sound. I'll get point then. Double gross. I don't want your treat ointment.

I'll suffer through this for you. For your totally normal, non-obsessive interest. So, what gallery am I going to?

Sloane? Where am I heading? You know all curio galleries blur together after a while, I honestly don't even remember. Oh we both know you remember. Have I mentioned how talented you are before? And how much I appreciate the wonderful work. You're going to Hot Audio. I'm going w Odd Audio Gallery. In the churning swamp of conspiracy champion encrypted chasing ludicracy, no institution gums up the collective stream of critical thought like Odd Audio.

This place isn't just a Curio gallery, it is the bloated, festering, tabloid king of all Curio galleries. It's the place where science goes to die. I've spent a good third of my career debunking their clickbait boulder dashery and now off I went to be. A patron. Sloane, you're so lucky I like you. Odd audio is a treasure of the world. Its winding driveway is a tendril offshoot from the turnpike, luring tourists away from their destinations and into the bazaar.

At the end of the road is a ramshackle palace operating under cartoon physics. The structure Too tall, too slender for a standalone. And the building advertises strangeness from the outside, a promise that it easily delivers. With its interior. The worst part of Odd Audio Gallery was its curator, Desdemona. They are shrewd and cunning and lovely. And everyone is so charmed by her that they don't realize. The worst. They also Used a colleague of Yeah. That's the line. Let's get this over with.

Hello? Desdemona? Inspiringly empty. This is a big window. I am here on site in the gallery, which has the feel of a cramped cylindrical cabinet. Every wall is cluttered with curiosities, baubles packed on glassed off shelves, fargy jars. Flax hammered crookedly into exposed beams, everything orbiting around a rickety spiral staircase leading up to the next floor. I am standing in front of a large display crammed with what looks like But the the plaque reads for the sound goes.

Why a ghost would have burst. Maybe so that it doesn't get ghost pneumonia. An affliction that's about as real as the To my right is a To keep you waiting, beloved.

Does Demona? You know that formality is wasted on me. Yes. Oh my lands, you look enchanting. It's been Three years since I've seen you? Yeah, it's been a while. But It is not since I've heard from you. What was it that you wrote a few months back? Odd audio is an altar to chicanery. A cesspool of false advertising where the ignorant pay exorbitant fees to battle. You just quoted my article verbatim. The wound is still It was wordy, Paris.

I'm used to non believers throwing pebbles at A few have been so Dedicated. To be fair, that article was on your wandering help it exhibit. Come on, Paris, what? Exhibition featured authentic hellstone. Carved tourmaline, that pits a scam, Des. Those recordings are flaming cassettes. Old abbots die hard. Challenging your nonsense. Fascinating how fun becomes venom once close friends become. Anyway, your scathing review page for my new arcane instruments. I had it raised. Folks love a contrary.

That's actually exactly what I came to. I've always preferred to have these back and forths over coffee. Here to treat me? Just looking to rehash all I still have the fist stop cabaret record. I'm actually just here to wait Still who What? You think I'd give them away? They were junk. No factual legs to stand on. Dozens of eyewitness accounts would disagree. You never could disprove them, could you? It doesn't debunk things, Paris. That's not its job. You know better than to try that weak line.

Science runs. Runs on curiosity and believing A fancy inlaid phonograph and a couple of records so thoroughly gouged that no one can recover a shred of soft Made by a phonograph needle, Paris. How else could you explain someone playing a record so many times that the needle wore slits in the vinyl? Those are recorded siren socks. Except the few historical accounts we have of sirens are all anecdotal. There is no proof that they exist. Convenient that their songs don't show up on recordings.

Don't usually show up on recording. To obsessive insanity. The fist stop records were found next to the skeleton of their owner. According to legend, their owner is unnamed and has no paper trail. Call me when you've recovered a shred of And then the scientific method will decide who's right. Rightunno. I seem to remember winning this formal debate. The judges were clearly biased. Folks want to believe encrypted. And what about you, Perry? You don't want to believe in the miraculous

I work with that stuff. Every day it's just backed up with evidence. You enjoy yourself a dull life, darling. You know you should Be fun, excited. Don't you ever miss our adventures? Hm. I miss your music taste. Vickering is only fun to avoid. Anyway, being right all the time gets old.

I seem to recall one artifact that you were on. Reminiscing is great, Des, but I am here on business. I heard you got a bewilderment instrument. clean recording. I was wondering why someone so obtuse deigned to darken my door. You're here for your museum, then? Here I thought you were here to make up with an old friend in the house. That depends. Can I get him for free? I wouldn't dream of charging an excitement. Actually really cool. Well I suppose you wouldn't consider us fellows, would you?

That would legitimize my field. Are you legitimizing? How much is admission? Twenty seven fifty. Uh-huh. Welcome to the Gallery of Oz Audio, a place outside of time and space, where amazement lurks around every corner, and the impossible comes to life before your very eyes. Splendid. I'm exclusively here to see your Esther slate though, so the rest of this stuff is This should hold all questions to the end of the tour and we will Refrain from any. Oh. Flash photography. What about your head?

Shepards. A pipe linked by Gideon Cortland himself during the resonance fog of eighteen forty two. Oh hey, cool. I hear chupacabras can crank out a water. You can cherry to on that thing. That'd be a hundred percent more songs than you can play. To your left, the gilded jawbone of Duchess Clarice Le Bon, a noblewoman who traded her soul for pride. Legend says that they're not going to be able to do that. Magic woven. In the right hands, her remains can be powerful tools of psychic resting.

Someone should really tell her fiat. And if you look in a mirror you will see a self proclaimed professional listener who refuses to shush long enough to be. To actually hear anything. Anything. Anomalous. Follow me. Ascend out of the world of the mundane. We leaving the mundane now? Thank you for giving me a heads up. I wouldn't want to leave the mundane without Let me just uh let me just prepare myself. Ooh, I gotta stretch. The world of the money.

And now, send your mind back in time to the audio renaissance where technological genius and mysticism. When I open this curtain, everything you think you know about sound will be whisped away on the waves of madness and bewilderment. Prepare to enter the world of Esther Slave. Slate was a scientist. What? No. She was preferred to the magnet? By her critics, her sexist critics. Her notes are extensive scholarly accounts with concrete methodology.

Critics are actually who erased her spiritualism to make her palm. Uh my partner is an expert on these things. I'm pretty sure I know my stuff. Our house is filled with these books. Consider authors, Baron. And how much humanity is cleaved to pay history's entrance fee? You know, I'd be more inclined to believe you on things like this if you didn't have sound ghost fur downstairs. Would you, Paris? I No wilder menstruals.

I don't know how to tell you that this is just a plain black cube and not an essence. Your skills of observation are all inspired. Okay, but seriously, where is the artifact?

Where indeed is the artifact? What do you see before you? It is a collector's great. An invention designed to be impenetrable by key or force. Its contents are concealed, inaccessible to all those unworthy who might be. Well good thing I'm not here to steal it, right? How does one get beyond its sleek shell? Why, one must leave a precious sound to get a precious sound. Only by presenting a sound of value can one uncover its concept.

Well that's it. Great. Well luckily one works at a noise museum and one carries a bunch of very valuable sound artifacts. Hang tight. There. You are convinced that the world plays the world. Huh. What are you talking about? I played by the rules. You laid them out and I played by them. Perhaps the sound you pick. It wasn't worthy. Worth it's a box, Desdemona. It can't tell. And Leon opens the box remake. Fun!

The Southern Ice Train, Yitrium Barium Copper Oxide, Quantum Locking and Superconduction. Come on, that was a really good one. Has this opened for anyone yet? Oh sure. It's open for a handful of guests already. I try to keep this for private so that only those who earn it. Have you heard it? Obviously. Yeah, well what is it? Now if I tell you that you would simply have to take my anecdotal eyewitness account. That's not worth much to you. Not very scientific. Nothing's ever easy, is it?

There is at least something in there, right? Fortunately, there was no way to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that there was something inside that box. I say that. I've also seen the travelling help it. You've literally It was probably a mirage. Hell pit sightings are usually a mirage. Hell most of the stuff in here can be explained through a trick of the ear or an altered mental state or seizures or some sort of That what happened with the Periwinkle Wailing Stone, Paris? An auditory illusion.

I'm trying another sound. Something that I really like. How about This one. This was a man who could harmonize with himself. Three harmonies, one man. He was a medical anomaly, but he was also d the funniest person. He was uh just so cool. I don't know. It was it was He loved it so much that he wouldn't stop. I love the sound. Box. Seriously? Seriously? Is this even a real box? Is this a trick? It feels like a trick, just like how everything in here is a trick.

Sometimes I wonder if you'd recognize a miracle that was right in front of your nose, dear. I'd want proof. What is with this thing? You've traveled a lot since we last met. One could say that. And you're still convinced that everything will always have to be.

Most things, good things. I guess you don't need evidence in your niche for the first time. I mean I could be the top of my field in jelly bean pixies, but that doesn't make sense. Can't you acknowledge my expertise without being glib paradigm? Can't you afford me one compliment? I'm sorry. I I mean, you know how I feel about this stuff, Des. Yeah. And this is I mean, this is what we do. I mean Bicker because it was fun pair.

It takes on a different flavor on a public debate stage. Why are you so skeptical? Is it so out of the realm of possibility? Did your baby th? Why can't you just take my word for something? Why would I need fiction? Why would I need to play pretend? The world is filled with wonder. When you make things up, it cheapens the real scientific majesty. People just blindly believe in whatever they're blindness. There is nothing blind about believing. This totally misguided comment.

There is so much you don't know. Why can't you allow people the benefit of the doubt? Because places like this end up filled with conspiracy theorists and truth deniers. Allowing blindness encourages it. I can trust your mind, but what about your guests? I wonder how many inventors like Esther Slate we would have if dreams and desires were strangled in the way you want. I don't want to strangle dreams. I just want people to think with their brains. What about this sound? Is this one worthy?

Shit, wait, I thought that was the wish bottle for us. Did I find that one? People are thinking with their brain. And hearts and soul. We can't be dissected in a textbook. You're missing half the story by shedding yourself up. And I get that. Like I know why we should believe in some things. The cultural function of belief is to bolster societal vocabulary and instill group morals in order to pay. Harris, you don't get it.

I'm not talking about the function of belief in a secular society. I don't want your sterilized perspective on magic. I am talking about bone and blood and history and magmatism. The stuff too vital and ancient to swab in a petri dish. I am talking about you not trusting anything or anyone, including me. Something you have yet to apologize. You walked into my business after being openly, publicly. To me, for you. You want to talk about blindness, Mr. Look at yourself!

The only reason I didn't throw you out on the spot is because we used to be friends. But I see now that you are exactly what I worried you might be. I've seen that with my own eyes, and it's documented on your recording. So there's your proof. I'm I'm sorry that I walked out. I don't forgive you. I had reasons for leaving. Great. When were you going to share those with me? I I left you a letter.

A litter. We had a car playlist, Paris. I had your back and you had mine. We you said you'd be in touch. And I tried to When I saw you at the electroacoustics conference, I tried to you wouldn't even look at me. You've been radio silence for two months. You wanted to just put the onus on me to get over it on my own? No. No, I no I I tried to pick up the phone so many times. But the longer the silence went, the harder it was to break and the apology just became too big to broach.

Well, like I said, I trusted you to be my friend, and I don't forgive you for being a You shouldn't. You owe me an explanation. Like I said, it was distance and silence and No. Not about it. I'm talking about the Wailing Stone. You dropped it on my steps and bolted.

I want to know what you heard. Why is this Because there are a million ways for you to admit you were wrong, Paris. I want the one that's... I want you to tell me that you don't think I'm as crazy as you pretend to. I don't think you're crazy, Dad. Prove it. It's a it's a ghost story. Who knows why I heard what I did? So you did, yes. usually conduct the interview. I'm a career listener too, Perry. I mean you know the stories.

The periwinkle whaling stone. No collection holds onto it for too long. Standard cryptid. Sightings but no tests. Remember the gatherer panel? I remember thrashing you on the debate stage. Yeah. An impressive loss. Embarrassing. So I was extra prickly, and when Sloane caught wind of the stone, I had to see for myself. I like Sloane too. And they are brilliant. They found you the Periwinkle Wailing Stone, and you went to pick it up?

Yeah, the person uh who had it was convinced it was a dud or a fake. Heard nothing, but the source was good and when I held it. Just like any other stone. Geometric, smooth, size of a walnut, periwinkle. I pocketed it and went about my life. You knew the story of the Wailing Stone beforehand. I mean of course I did. Everyone's heard a version of it. I had big plans, d double blind case studies and lab settings and real thorough stuff, but then A week later it Started so faint.

So far off in the distance that I couldn't even hear it in a normal room. My workshop is sound treated though, so room tone is dampened, and and even then it was like a whisper. It was so quiet that I didn't even consider the stone. I I would I adjusted levels for days. And then it got closer. As if it was a county over? And closer as if it was on the other side of town. It moved slowly, almost imperceptibly slowly. But I could mark it by days, and it was moving. Relentless.

And it didn't matter where I went. I I I heard it on field missions, though it didn't show up on my recordings. Nighttime was the hardest. In the dark and the quiet, all I could do was lie there and hear it. And I didn't want to sleep because I knew that when I woke up, I would have lost an inch of time, an inch of distance between me and whatever was I was zeroing in on my location. But what did it sound like? Don't know.

It sounded organic. Like a scream. It wavered. It was hoarse, rasping with overtones like a train whistle, as if it had been screaming for a while. As if it had been screaming for a long time. It wasn't angry or or sad or It was just a scream. Indifferent. A great jaw that had fallen open because that's what they do. And out came the sound because that's where these sounds come from. More deep and dead and it saw me and I I didn't know where to go. Why didn't you come to me then?

I wanted to I But you were busy. Everyone is always busy, Pam. I would have helped. Would you have? What do you have? What do you mean by that? I mean, you were always consumed by a project or running off to chase some wild theory, and at that point, we only really talked to debate something. That's okay. That's how it was. That's how we did. And I shared my dreams with you because I wanted you to dream with me. I didn't need dreams, Des Sometimes I just needed a friend.

You had such lofty goals, and I believed that you could achieve them. I I I didn't want to hold you back, but I didn't want to shout to be heard either. Why didn't you tell me this? I could have I would have wouldn't have And I guess you just trusted that. On what? Faith? After the third or fourth attempt. I thought I wasn't worth your time. Maybe I I could have dispelled that insecurity years ago, Paris, but you left before giving me the chance. Did you think I couldn't take honesty?

That it was too much for me to handle that kind of thing? I have been getting better at it since I Since we Anyway, too late. I could tell something bad was going down. Towards the end. You would have been silent for LONGER I considered reaching out myself. I thought it'd pass. I was running tests. I thought that maybe I could catch a glimpse or find a way to explain why I spent a lot of time in the library, Sloan too. We just found stories. Stories with

abrupt endings. And then I heard it breathe, dance. It was close. As if the sound was just like a few blocks away. It interfered with everything. I wasn't sleeping anymore. Then the wailing stopped one night. What the relief I felt it was the loudest silence of my life. It was one breath. Rattling as if it came from the lungs of someone almost drowned. One breath. And then the sound rose up again from that same deep bottomless somewhere and it was closer and I could

I knew there was something attached to that sound, and I could never find out what it was. Not ever. I'm sorry, I'm sorry that I gave it to you. I'm sorry I don't know what I heard, Des. I don't know what I heard.

Never heard it. I I passed whatever it was on to you. I couldn't I couldn't face it. I never heard it, and I never knew why you left. I believe you. But you don't have pro- Roof I don't. And I traded that rock away ages ago. Believe me. Really that simple. It shouldn't be. You should hold me to the standard. No Paris. I don't play your games, and I won't adopt your self imposed rules. You'll be lost in your way. And I'll be lost in mine. But what if I'm lying or acting crazy?

Then you've got a place to do it. My gallery isn't for turning away the frightened. The world does that already. And if you're haunted by something, it doesn't matter what the chemical composition is The world is more vast than your dogmatic fanaticism can taxonomize, beloved. Everyone has to believe in something. I've found people to be a decent option. But you still don't forgive me. But I can have loved you without sacrificing my peace to you now. So that's that. Shame the box didn't open.

Would you forgive me then? No. I'll pay the entry fee. I mean, you're right, I haven't gotten the box open, so really this is a business expense. This isn't a wound. You can bribe. What if I came back the next day? And the day after that? Hurt me. And I don't want to forgive you yet. I know this. And there is no way to undo what I've done but

I want to believe that things can heal between people. Or hey, at least I I I I want to test a scientific hypothesis and I want to provide ample proof to back it up, ha heaps of data and you don't have to treat me any different than your other patrons. I think I want to learn about this. Where people are believed. I've got other people to greet, Paris. This is all then. Well, it's I'll go then. Probably for the I'll see you around us.

Some caverns are too deep to cross, some rivers are too wide to ford, but Des was my best friend once, and I owed them more than I could express in a day. Maybe ever. Okay, if I just go upstairs to try for this late instrument or or do I need to take a tour? I have a group coming at noon, Paris. Do whatever you need. You're a guest. Okay. I have some new sounds. To show it, I mean to try.

But that should only be a few minutes. Maybe after I can I can stay for the tour. I mean I think I I think I missed some things before Like I said. Do whatever you need. I wasn't able to come back every single day. But I tried to Sloane was overjoyed. And they wanted the slate. I think I've got something that will knock its socks off. You know. I once met this person. That their socks caused them to sing nonsense. Was that R Ronaldo? Yeah. That was.

Yeah, I was looking at his sock plaque last week. It was cool. My my theory is choriomania, but with sound. You read the plaque? Well, you know, this wasn't the first instance of this phenomenon. My favorite joke. That are pretty extended. I interviewed her. I'd like to hear about that sometime. It is a long story, and I have guests too. Okay, uh I'll be upstairs, but I'll try to catch the tail end of your tour. Clunky at first. But Des was worth it. Every moment, every step.

Friends don't come as good as design. It wasn't work to try and show her that. Nerve coming in here, Paris. You can't just do this. What this is Oh that do you think that if you visit enough times and write some nice articles No. Then what was this for? I wrote a review that was unfair. I was limited in my understanding, but I've been here enough to know that I was wrong. Do you think we get to go back to the way we were? That I will just get over what happened. No, no, no.

Whatever our friendship was, is gone. But if that can be gone, then so can the venom, and I don't want to be your adversary anymore. What? Something new. What do you want? Second floor. Third shelf on the left. The swamp walker. It howls when there's going to be a flood. I have a theory about Casper. First floor left. Top shelf. The Hans meteorite. It vaporized so many mammals. Force the shelf down what's in the box. The Eldridge Ring of Leyland Bay. I was with you when you found that one.

You did. I was worried that you'd get us in trouble. I wanted the ring. And you're a ruthless negotiator. I don't know. That's okay. But I wish I did. I didn't feel as lost as I was. I wish that people would stop looking to me and challenging me and expecting things of me and hurting me and leaving me and praising me and I had all the answers already. I thought by now I would know more than I do, and I'm tired of it always being up to me to figure it out. That all sounds like ghosts to me.

Goes to you. Paris. What if Sloane and I cooked you dinner? A simple thing, like a charcuterie board. What if we just had fun? Like how friends do? Our treat, obviously. What if we Tried to be friends, not like how we used to be, but like who we are now. Charcuterie. Fancy breeze? The fanciest. I don't think you understand the fancy I'm talking about. I will scale a mountain and mountain. Milk a I don't know, is it a cow? Yeah. Do you not know where cheese comes from?

I wasn't sure if it was like a goat or a llama. No, that's fair. Expect that. You are gonna have to totally get on this board if you expect to wow.

And we made a new normal. Sloane and I had dinner with Des often, and the routine of being in each other's lives became a Never a given that was gone, but a possibility. Then one completely unremarkable day. Oh now recording it is recording usually I turn it off for ¿Qué es eso? It's a music box. Incredible, isn't it? What made it open? Remember? I think Paris was going on about the Franklin Ghoul. It could be real, it's plausible. All the things to believe in, darling. About it through you.

But again, of all the cryptons. This moment is good and cool and all, but it's great and uh I want to listen. Did you you didn't rig the box? No, I swear. Totally by accident. Because I was trying for weeks and weeks. I didn't think you were ever going to be This is amazing. It's the best one I've ever heard. Sloane, will you settle a disagreement? Did Esther Slate have ties to the Arcane, or was she a scientist? I mean it's all it's not. Was it jealous collies or a new science being mistaken?

Or something else. Who's to say? It was a mystery. Mm hear that? She was a mystery. Hm. I suppose so. So an okay thing to be sometimes. Sometimes.

Maintenance test three. All right, Doc. You ready? AHHHHHH Here'll check vitals, parrot. I mean we could just Cha. I gotta know you won't go belly up. How have you been? Humpty dumptying yourself back together again? Just be nice to have conversation variety. Options rugs. I suppose Calibrating is the wrong word. I feel like I'm not sure if you're not That's Something. Vincent Carter or Daphne? I feel A self that is more than the sum of its parts, as all selves are. Oh solid. That's good, right?

It is good. I think I think I would like you to address me as if you would be so kind. Vincent comma Daphne. like a being that wants to name itself while paying homage to those who created. Any abnormalities, Vinny? Mm. Consumption. It's time, Paris. All's well in my little jar, nothing to record. Yeah. Well, once I finish up my tests, the rest of my day is free. Do you wanna listen to an album for fun? Whoa!

Thank you for listening to the Sound Museum. The Sound Museum was written, produced, and edited by Lee Tommanelli. Theme song and interleague music are by some kind of The sound artist behind the Sound Museum is Kai Gwillem Pritchard. The voice of Paris was Lee Tommanelli. The voice of Sloane was Eric Lawrence Taylor. In this episode, the voice of Desdemona was Eliana Rowe, and the voice of Vinnie was Dante de Garrett.

Our directors were Leo Lyon and Lauren McKee. Like our show? Don't forget to rate, review, and tell a friend. Want more information of questions, compliments, comments, email us at the soundmuseum podcast at gmail.com. Looking for recording scripts or something more casual? Check us out at the Sound Museum Podcast on Tumblr. Keep in the loop by following us on social media, at the Sound Museum Pod on Blue Sky, Instagram, and But Used To Be.

And don't forget to check out the rest of our talented staff socials in the episode description. Until next time. This podcast is part of the Faustian Nonsense Network. Amen. You're listening to a Sonic Cinema.