Reading Even More Of Ben Shapiro's Terrible Short Stories

was genius. I have been telling Cody for years. He needs to keep his emergency tambourine closer to the right. You know. We just finished to shoot the studios and as I couldn't find it in time. I'm sorry, but no, that was that was a one time thing. Oh this is our Christmas episode. I guess this is dropping Christmas week, so like it's not a Christmas episode. You've got several

days till Christmas. This is your your podcast that you'll listen to, your sitting in that motherfucking traffic at the mall, trying to get the present that you didn't get when you should have or when you managed to like hide yourself in a bathroom at the house where your entire extended family is hanging out and you're grabbing just twenty minutes at a time of blissed, blessed, blessed peace. Um, we appreciate that you're spending that precious time with us

talking about Ben Shapiro's short stories. I hope that you're hiding place is better than a bathroom. That's my wishes. I liked it at my parents house, like they before they redid it. They had like those old heater events, those old ones where you flip on the switch in the bathroom and it heats it up real quick. I love hiding in the bathroom. I'd go upstairs with a book and some pillows and cozy up in front of there. So, um, hide. If you're I hope if you're hiding in the bathroom

that it's as pleasant as my parents. Or you're listening to this on speakers with your entire family in a room silently staring at each other. Yeah, that's that's what I hope. I hope it's the first time you've all been in a room in years, and in order to break the ice, h're all utterly silent listening to us talk about Ben Shipping. If anybody you get there out of the family. This relates to everybody on this call.

I saw this thing that was like shout out to all the millennials struggling to explain what they do to a living to their relatives this holiday season. And amen, yeah, I mean I yeah, alright, because I think it's apparently sense sometimes what we do. I do not think that she's listened the whole time. I think it's a recent thing. But hello, anyway, that's not what we're here for. Hi, mom um. I think a reasonable clear explanation of what we do is we read What's Fair and Other short

Stories by Ben Shapiro. Um, what's confusing about that? So, Cody, what's the title of today's short story? I'm imagining through half of it? By Ben Shapiro in his collection of short stories. Um, is I know? B low Blow? Sorry? Um uh this is called from the pit because he's not very I got it. Yeah, yeah, boys, didn't hear. I loved it. I'm so sorry you guys two times two times, the second time times two time reference. Well, it's of despair. Okay, it's really great with favorite movie?

Oh shut up, really no, no, it can't be my favorite movie's favorite movie. And now I'm sad. Everybody pick a new one for Carrie Nights. No one else picks Nights is their favorite movie. Yeah, but anyway from the pit up, why it's hard. I had a can't Christmas

movie experience the other day. I was this time of year, I will periodically search for random Christmas movies on Netflix, and I found there's a Christmas movie starring Joel McHale from Community, Jeff and Robin Williams, and it's It's the last movie I think that Robin Williams filmed before he died. Like they made like they made it that like August or something. Um, and it is. I don't know. There's a scene where they try to decide how to dispose of the body of a drifter. Um, it's it's fine,

it's fine. That doesn't sound like something that Robin Williams would want to do. He's always a surly character in this employ use Uh. He always an unemploying some member of the on housed community on his films Youth. Well, they didn't purposefully hit the drifter, but anyway, whatever, But I'll just real quick, if we're talking about Christmas movies, guys, I'm in one I don't know where you would find it, but this is a really bad thing that I'm telling you.

I don't remember anything about it except that it's called Farewell, Mr Kringle. I think I have to tiny little scenes with Christine what's her name? Ben's Diller's wife, Christine Taylor, and Vivica Fox I believe is in it and am getting so I um, oh, you guys are looking cool cool. Yeah, they're probably around and Robert. I do not remember the plot. I remember I had one day and I had just adopted my cat Henry and what's her name, Christine Taylor what's her name? She had to sit next to me.

I had to sit next to her. What she had to sit next to me? And I just was talking your ear off about my brand new kitten. And I remember her being like, she just kept leaving. And I can see that in hindsight. Anyway, that's my day on the plot of the movie is on a writing assignment in the quaint town of Mistletoe, a magazine journalist who long ago lost her Christmas spirit finds herself enchanted by

an inspirational man who claims to be Santa Claus. Yeah, it's a very dark movie that could have more or less the same plot. I'm her sister, her assistant, so okay, that makes sense. Well, okay, let's let's get onto the story story. I will be watching the tonight though, Katie horrified obviously, you know what, It's far enough in the past that I can tell you about it and it can be a laugh instead of feature. I'm convinced Cody was in which which is what the extended cut off apocalypse? Now,

Oh yeah, he's definitely in that. I mean, Robert, see how this goes. I've got several bad movies that I've done, but you just I'll ease you into it. I'm I'm, I'm, I'm particularly in the mood for bad Christmas movies. Right there you go, speaking of bad things. Yes, let's do this from the pit. From the pit, and I believe possible spoilers. This is his first foray into science fiction. Um, so we're gonna get a little taste of his beliefs. How many how many? How many pages? How many pages?

Is it? This is uh twenty six pages and the last one, last one was about was barely twenty Okay, all right, here we go, let's do it. Let's get in here from the pit. September nineteen Colon. I am now just five days and to wake up from the end of my term, and I'm still alive. It's lonely work. Ever since Phillips was killed. I didn't think i'd ever say this, but I miss him. I don't really care for this character. Right. We're a sentence in whatever I

spent to day traversing the caverns very few crobes? Ye? Wait a second, is that a sci fi turn like a crobe? Is he referring to microbes? Is that what he's Probably that's probably the lingo of of uh, this environment, you know, you know, like how sci fi words are bad sci fi think? Yeah, yeah, that's that's two sentences in. And I can already tell you this is copy paste

in tax and approach as the last one. But instead of doing folksy things like darn tooton or whatever the ship he threw in the last one, he's gonna throw in weird, really bad sci fi terms. Okay, that's my prediction. Okay, um, And then you know, like sci fi like you like, yeah, it's too early. There's gonna be some words where we're like, oh, what's that and then we find out and it all sort of comes together. So no judgment yet, I mean

lots of judgment, but there is tremendous judgment. Okay, unlimited judgment. I spent today traversing the caverns. Very few crobes. We've we've done a masterful job of taking them out. It's been weeks since the last wave of MIT's got Phillips. I still remember the wave, Like giant, malevolent spiders. They're

scaly tentacles, reaching, squirming, their stench overpowering. Okay, Phillips firing his laser, but it's power source draw Philips stumbling backwards, Me firing, thinking of amy, And then the mite was on him, sucking him dry, stripping the skin from his muscles with its massive pincers. Philips screaming. That was one sentence. Um, okay, new paragraph, but thinking about it makes me sick. New paragraph. I never thought the territory could be so vast. Before

the downsizing, the territory was no bigger than a large room. Now, of course, it seems vast. Miles upon miles of endless caverns, followed by the drop off colon a cliff that feels hundreds of feet high, plunging down into a soft forest of polyester. So it's vast. Apparently it's nearly seven o'clock. The light still burns above, but the climate is temperate. That's the good news about being an anti. At least capital an anti and anti like I am an anti,

I'm an capital a NT I yeah, okay, uh. At least the climate is always good Anti, but you kind of anti. Sounds like Anti, Katie. I'm sorry, I'll do Anti. I'll do Anti. That's the good news about being an anti. See how it sounds like an ant's eye. Okay, does go back to your um? Okay, that's that's the good news about being an anti. At least the climate is always good. The power of indoor climate control. The whale capital w The whale is rumbling above. His thunderous voice

is overpowering. Does he ever shut up? He's working on a transnational trade again, something to do with steel and carbon manufacture. A stock trader could make a fortune by listening to him. But I'm just a simple guy. I just want to get home to Amy. Two years. That was the length of that damnable contract. I though the money would be enough. I just ben sh up your own women. All of them are idealized women put on

a pedestal or some like. Was always about the guy, the rugger, rugged guy that wants to get home to the woman or the woman that's on his mind, you know what I mean, the obsession with a woman. But they're never like either, like okay in true allegiance, never in the same room, you know, they're just like, they're not characters, they're a prop. They're a woman. He doesn't want to be around them, he doesn't want to develop

them in any capacity. And of course, in the last book, whatever that funk that was, any who had to point that out. Amy is her name. Amy is back home and I want to get to her, which is why I signed a contract for two years. Um. I actually have to read this sentence again because my brain inserted words that were not there, because it's even worse than originally thought. Um so okay, two years that was the

length of that damnable contract. I though the money would enough, indeed, been I though the money would be enough to would enough so easy to put the in. It's like like you're instinctively just like, yeah, no, obviously the word be is. I though the money would enough been writing is like jazz, though, you know, it's as much about the words that he

doesn't to say I thought the money would be enough. Yeah, he absolutely meant I thought the money would be I thought the money would be He didn't read it a second time, and so now it says I though the money would enough. What is Are you sure it's not supposed to be? I comma, though the money would be enough. I I'm still putting the be in. Well, yeah, exactly. Yeah. You you always try to make it vaguely competent, even in your just yeah. No, Like it's just like my

brain is like, obviously, this is what he meant. Um. Also, like, that's not even like the finished sentence, because there's a dash. Yeah, what what else we got going on in that sentence? It starts off with a banger, um, I though the money would enough. Dash A guaranteed pension for life and endless income, A nice house above the bay with the wind blowing off the sea, amy in my arms, A lot of commas there. Wow, that's not a sentence. That's not that's for sure, not a sentence, like even even

if the first part was written correctly, that is not. Yeah, that's not there's that is not even particularly close to a sentence. I mean, oftentimes it sounds like he's riding and he's really high or something, you know, and like not going back and looking at all, like missing much like I was not paying attention when I read the sentence more correctly. Maybe bends one of those writers who thinks that in order to be great, you have to write while drunk. And so he had a single thimble

of wine. Right, all right, okay, okay, um, all right, where the fuck am I? This? Uh Amy in my arms? She warned me against this. She was right, I was wrong. But now it's nearly over. The reversal process begins in two days. It took them three days to get me down to this size. Sem, It'll take three days the other way too. Okay, they say it hurts, but at this point I wouldn't care if they had to skin

me to get me home. The lights winked off. Now another day over, I'll pitch the halo and get some shut eye, like trying like he's just gonna tent ship. It's like a shelter. Yeah, okay, yeah stuff halo. Um Also the lights winked off. Um, I guess but like it's fine, just like it's fine, it's fine, it's fine. Traditionally, a wink is just like goes open. I'll buy it. Look it works, it's fine, it works well enough, well enough.

September twenty four days and to wake up. I hate hunting in the dark, but that's what I'll have to do today. It's Saturday, so there will be no light, just the hurricane sound of the cleaning woman's vacuum. And the mites are back. I could see a wave of mites today from save them. I could see a wave of mites today from inside my halo to them, I just looked like another crobe. I think you're coming from the ashtray. They've all loved the ashtray for an obsessive,

compulsive clean freak, the ultimate clean freak. The whales addiction to cigarettes is a weird one, But then again, he can afford the lung cleansing day after day, the wooshing that lifts the ash from his lungs. Okay, so lung cleansing in this world, all right on? Um? Yeah, okay, yeah, you like you put like a suction cup or something over He's literally like sucking the ash out of his lungs because that's how big thick cigarettes hurt you too much ash in your lungs. That's right, that's what do

he thinks happen. He thinks that he thinks the cigarettes are bad because you fill your lungs up with ashes. Oh that's not where the ashes go. Okay, all right. Also, this is I mean, this is the guy who like performatively like has his little cigar buddies and their leather chairs like right, like like I bet my co workers putting ash in their lung afterwards. Been just sucks the hooks the vacuum cleaner up to his throat and lives

confident in the knowledge that he's cured cancer. Like he can say tar like there's like it's just like basic like like third or to be honest, it's a future thing. Just say he was able to afford you know, the anti cancer treatments or whatever. Like we don't need an explanation, like that's not what the story is about. I'll buy that in the future, rich people can just take a pill to not get cancer. Like fine, you don't need to go into detail. Uh, well, good thing he doesn't.

Well look well, no, but the thing is just enough to detail to derail the story because it makes no sense. But like in general, it's easier to get away with that stupid bullshit in this sci fi format of her because you you know, you're like, maybe they'll explain what that is later. He's not going to Everything that's a question mark isn't going to be addressed. It's all going to be a confusing mess. Ultimately, there's no answers to this story right there, Like things of like forgivable things

and like there's more. There's a a broader landscape in a sci fi world to do that kind of thing. But he won't, but like it won't help him. Yeah, it's often, in fact great in sci fi to mention things that you don't necessarily explain, just to let them know you're there. It makes the world feel deeper. But Ben, Ben, I'm going to guess Ben fails to explain the things that we actually need explained, and that's what I mean,

add unnecessary explanations for things he could have just breezed over. Yeah, yeah, yeah, prediction for Ben Shapiro, sci fi writer. Okay, I I support that prediction anyway. The wooshing lifts the ash from his lungs. I pop on my night vision goggles and put on my boots. Then I step outside the halo, which automatically deflates to fit in my gear bag. The last mite turns around a nearby corner. I follow. When I get to the ash tray, the final ashes are

still smoldering from his cigarette. It looks like a gigantic white tower at an ankle. I've seen pictures of the leaning Tower of pizza. It's like that, but with the bottom end broken and trailing into black dust. A few sparks dance near the base. I mean, and again another unnecessary thing. We don't need you to say. You've seen pictures of the leading town. Describe the leaning tower, right, you can evoke the Leading Tower of pieces without being like I've seen pictures and I boy, let me tell

you it's kind of like that, except this way. You know what this thing's purposes. It's an ash tray, it's an it's just a cigarette. He's talking about aigarette, aigrette. Yeah, them though. I think I think he's hunting the mite for food, probably right, Yeah, to hide from the crobes. Yeah. Uh. The mites are all over the cigarette, all over it. To might seat cigarettes. I'm gonna I'm gonna look this up, will you please? You know what? You know what? You

know what? We actually have to take a quick break. My sponsors, I know doesn't eat cigarettes for sure? Is our sponsors? Are you sure though? Wellgether everything. We're back. This is funny. I knew aspects of this because of the book that I wrote that talks heavily about nicotine, but uh so tobacco. If you're like, if you want something that will keep insects off of you, you can actually like rub like wild like tobacco on you like

the oils on it, keep up insects and stuff. And I found an article talking about how it might be birds and cities may seek out cigarette buds because it keeps mites off of them. Um so there seems like they're repelled from cigarettes. Again, every single thing been could be wrong about he gets wrong. Just look it up, like, do do insects like? Do mites like tobacco? Something like that? Like a second? A second of work, that's all I put in a funny detail that a second and I

found out that cigarettes keep mites away. This fact about mites is art. Yeah, Oh god, are incredible yeah, I mean there are there are like insects that eat tobacco. Please don't get me wrong, but they seem to be specific things that live in where tobacco is grown. Uh, they're like a type of flea flea beetles, a doult flea beetles. That's what seems to eat tobacco. Well, this passage doesn't say that adult flea beetles are beetles in this billionaire's house. Yeah, I don't think I'm gonna do

do a quick word search for adult flea beetles. Nope. Um put in the typing sound after mites or something, which is probably different from the type of mites that those birds eat tobacco to keep away. But again, I don't think might seat tobacco. Doesn't matter, it's still funny, funny, the point being. The mites are all over the cigarette, all over it. They cover the top of the cigarette, swarm it, clawing at the chunks of the whale saliva. Best to get them now before they disperse and hide

in the crevices of the desk. They're spit mites, m and so I climb. When you're at full size, a cigarette looks like a smooth precisely calibrated cylinder. Only when you're climbing one do you realize that it's full of footholds and hand holds. The mites are above me, but they haven't sensed me yet. I take out my hook from my belt and tear it into the cigarette wall with a satisfying thunk. Then I lash it through my belt and leaned back. The mites are silhouetted against the

foam board ceiling. I have a clear shot. I take the first mite out with a single laser beam. Watch it plummet down the cigarette and smash into the table below, split in two. Before I have a chance to silently celebrate, though, the other mites dash, God, there have to be at least two hundred of them, dash, turn and face me. This is the moment where they're stunned. Moment when they're stunned. This is the moment where they're stunned before they realize

what's happening. This is the moment for the laser grenade. I've done it a thousand times already, so many times that it's a matter of course, that's not how how you, that's not that's not right, that's not the right words. A matter of reflex that do it by reflex, Like I don't even like but it's not a matter of You would never describe automatically doing something as a matter of course like that, Like, it's just not the right

way to say force of habit, force of habit. Um. Yeah, that's just not that's not how a human being uses But as a matter of course, the laser grenade, because I've done it so many times, but I haven't done it while hanging from a cigarette and in the dark alone. Um, I don't think it being dark is relevant because you specifically said that you put on night vision goggles. But whatever, I reached behind me into my gear bag searching for the grenade. Damn it. I should have thought of this

before firing on the herd. They're climbing down toward me now. They're great bulky frames, picking up momentum as they plunge their claws into the body of the cigarette. What I can find the kind of mites that are likely to be in a house feed on like skin flakes and stuff, not saliva. But not Okay, Yeah again, everything he's and anytime he is specific about something, it's it's inevitably wrong. It's inevitably wrong if he if he goes out of his way to be specific, chances is incorrect. M Um.

But you know they're they're covered in the crusted saliva of the whale, and their smell is overpowering. I wretch grasped deeper into my gear bag. My hand closes around the grenade, but now the herd is closing, closing in. I can see the black maw of the lead might, of the lead might. Sorry, my apologies, that's my mistake. I can see the black maw of the lead might opening as he chunks his way down the cigarette. I

closed my eyes and scream and fling it upward. Yeah that, as a matter of course, I close my eyes and scream and throw. I thought, you've done it. That's how he trained himself to throw a grenade with his eyes closed, his eyes closed. That's what the handbook says, close your eyes and scream. It's not a good throw. Yeah, no, ship man. It seems to flutter in the air before

gravity takes hold of it. It reaches the top of the parabola, and it suddenly occurs to me that this damn thing could go off as it passes me on the way down. Of course, by that time I'll be might food. But then the mit reaches down with its pincers and gobbles it up. I count to four. It's already been a second, and the mite explodes outward, blowing a dozen of its repulsive brethren off the cigarette into the chasms below the way. Okay, sure, all right, yeah

you're it's not but whatever? Uh they left the track at this point, where like, why waste time like it? Since whatever? It's fine? The way from the how does he describe the mites biting him? What is it that they have? It? Is it pincers? Okay, you know that's fair enough. It would be fair to describe it as pincers. I think it's a little fright. But I can't wait to see that word over and over and over again

because he got it right. Um, the way from the explosion almost blows me off the cigarette, but the belt holds me tight. But the second wave, but the second wave of mites is still coming down for me. They're creeping more slowly, more warily. That's not good for me. My only chance is that they panic. I can never make it down the cigarette in time to escape them. Sleep. Okay, so this is like a regular thing he does. He like waits for the mites to gather around the cigarette.

And because mites left cigarettes so much as a matter of course, they're not panicking, though they're getting smart. Their beady eyes scope me out as they tiptoe almost daintily down the cylindrical tower. I fire a couple of times to pick two of them off. It's hard to miss at this distance, but my heart is pounding and my throat is dry. New paragraph, shattering light, new paragraph again. It's a Saturday. What the hell is going on here? That's right here, I see what the hell is going

on here. Somebody turned on the light, and it's as bright as the brightest day. Excellent, pros. It's as bright as day would be the brightest brightest day, right, like as it is daytime. Yeah, but no, it is actually as bright as the brightest day. You got your vision goggles on, unless you forgot that you put those on, in which case, all right, thank God for that. The mites hate the light, and they're scurrying down the cigarette but trying like hell to get to the darkness of

the desk grooves. They completely ignore me, rush around me. I shout in glee. I'm saved. That's not in quotes. That's the thing, he says. I I shout in glee, I'm saved exclamation point. Yeah. Yeah. He sees he's just happy that he's saved, and his shout he shouts in glee, and then he tells us I'm saved exclamation yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah, that's that's writing. Okay, okay, yes, I agreed. I agree. Somebody did write that down and and we can read it. Then I hear it the voice of the whale again.

This is the whale is always in all caps or not all caps, but capitalized. Sure, fine, whatever, yea. I'm just like, I'm just letting you know the y you know, it's not I'm not no judgment. I'm just saying that's I sure hope we at least learn what the whale is. Oh yeah, no, no, no. Ben does not give details unless those details are necessary and incorrect. He's a guy who feeds the mites his saliva um. Then I hear the voice of the whale grumbling from above, something about

an emergency in Tokyo. The earth starts shaking beneath me as the whale searches for his cigarettes, cursing he always needs his cigarettes when he's under stress, and this one must be a doozy. Bang. He's open to the top drawer of his desk and slammed it shut, turning the air blue with invective. Okay, okay, boom. The entire desk shutters with the weight of his massive, meaty fist. Oh through line. Maybe it's the guard from the other story. This is a motif, the motif of the meaty fist.

I can see it from a top to cigarette and it looks like an avalanche of human flesh punctuated by thick black hairs on his knuckles. Treat trunk thick, damn it. I mean, if you're small enough that mites are big, his fingers would be more like canyon walls. Then yeah, yeah, I feel like the cigarette. Feel like the cigarette is the entire buildings, or like he said, like it was like the leaning tower of Pizza was with a cigarette, so like its fucking hands would be. Like perspectives are

all over the place here. Yeah again, Ben doesn't there's nothing consistent about here, yeah, he says. Then I look up. His broad, fat face stares down at me. He can't see me of course I'm too small to be seen by the naked eye, but I can see him. It's like the moon rising massive during harvest season, Massive and puffed and bloated and sweaty. Didn't need to say massive so close together twice? Oh boy, not to do that, um God like losing all right. An enormous droplet of

sweat forms on his eyebrow lingers. He said massive twice because he knew he was going to use enormous a moment later. Uh. An enormous droplet of sweat forms on his eyebrow lingers for a moment, then falls down like a bomb towards the desk. It detonates, washing three or four mites away with it. Why is he looking at me? Then I realized what he's looking at, and it isn't me. Oh God. I struggle frantically to unbelt myself from the cigarette. The belts too tight, though, and I can't work myself

free of it. And before we find out what it is that this whale sees, before we find out what our main character is so worried about, we must go too and ad break Cody. You put more work into that transition than Ben did into this entire book of short stories. Well, you know, I care about my craft, unlike somebody I could think of. Okay, it's me, and yes, that's true. I was staring directly at you together everything,

and we're back from that break to hear more from Ben. Um. I keep thinking that this is so good, so uncreative. I mean it's not. Oh yeah, the exploits of someone really small. We got that with Honey. I shrunk the kids and man, you know what I mean? All right? And again Ben mistakes the point of science fiction entirely, because if you're the thing the germ of an idea that could someone competent could do, is this idea might

have an idea trobe of an idea? Yeah? Is these people shrinking themselves in order to like deal with the whims of a lunatic billionaire. Um, And that is like not a at And then it's a terrible action scene and there's no actual analysis of like the world that would make this necessarily. This feels like an anti capitalist story. I think it will be. Yeah, but that makes any kind of sense because again the bad guys are the might it kind of I don't know. Well, I guess

we'll see where it's going we'll see. I feel like they're like, there's definitely a really bad point poorly veiled that we will arrive at eventually. Great, but we don't know anything about the whale, right or did I miss that? There's some sort of businessman. Yeah, like literally nothing more than businessman. Like he's on the phone yelling about steal or something. Yeah, smoker. Uh, he does deals, right, he does deals. Yeah. It doesn't understand capitalism any better than

he understands socialism. M yeah, it's good that he doesn't understand much. It's it is good that he doesn't understand either of those things. Okay, continue, When last we left our heroes, Um, yeah, something bad is going on and

the guys like the whale season but not anyway. And then I'm hanging by my belt horizontal parallel with the earth, and I'm rising, falling backwards, sliding down the cigarette, the hook tearing tobacco out of the cigarette as I cigarette twice, the hook tearing tobacco out of the cigarette as just say it all right, sorry, the hook tearing down tobacco out of the cigarette as I slide toward his fat, blubbery lips. Specs of spit oozing from his gaping mouth. Um,

we don't need to harp on it. But like if it if something is having the tobacco torn out of it, I have to assume it's the cigarette. So you don't need to say it twice, doesn't matter. Moving on, I try to stop myself grabbing at the serpent. That's my mistake. I tried to stop myself grabbing at the surface of the cigarette, but the mites have left it slick thick with their ooze mixed with the whale's spittle. The surface

of the cigarette is getting hot. Now I look behind me, and the damn thing is on fire, much like Tommy's house. The blasted whale has gone and ReLit. The butt hot ash begins sweeping beneath me under the paper as the whale breathes in, scorching my legs. But before I can worry about it, the whale takes an enormous puff. The sucking is like an unstoppable hurricane, drawing me toward its eye. Down, down I go, until I plunge into his open mouth.

It's the movement from fire into water. Weird sounds. It's the movement from fire to water. It goes all right, Sorry, it broke my brain. Yeah, I don't know what he's trying to do with that, unless it's a reference to the great Bloodhound Gang song fire water burn. I prom to see it as not well, don't I go until I plunge into his open mouth. It's the movement from fire into water. I wretch again as I'm immersed in waves of his saliva, stinking of yesterday's food, a toxic

mix of bile and phlegm. I try to swim towards the surface of his mouth, but it's too far. I'll never make it, not with the rocket pack before he shuts that blubbery hole forever, locking me in his body, swirling me down his throat and into his intestines. Then, Also, it seems weird that like a freak who's like obsessive about cleanliness would just let human like tiny humans wander around his his his home. That's a good point that he would be like less concerned about that than Mike

was that. The point is he supposed to be killing all the mites. Yeah, but it's this guy's there. Yeah, I would agree. It doesn't this guy have his own tiny mites, you know? Yeah, Also, like he's a neat freak, but like also like his saliva stinking of yesterday's food, fucking teeth. Man, Like what Ben, Ben can't even make this character who's not a character consistent. Like it's like you said like three things about him, yeah, and none

of them back to that. Yeah, it's great that all of the things that every new fact we learned about this character could can like conflicts with the other things he told us about him. This disgusting slab of a neat freak. What this filthy, gross person who has hired tiny people to clean his house at the atomic level because he loves being neat so much. Well, so, I don't think the whale knows about this guy. I don't think he knows about the tiny people, right, I think

I think the thing he has to think. I think he's working well. I think the tiny guys spying on him. I think. But he says he doesn't understand it. He's a it's a two year contract. Like he just vaguely says that anyone listening in could make money off of it if they knew about the stock market. But he's not taking that down right. It sounds like his job is to kill dust mites. I will, well, so I will.

I'm gonna pose it that he could have. He should have just added a line like you know, if anyone listening, uh, you know, they can make a fortune, which is why I'm here, Like, I think that might be why he just didn't. Isn't explaining it? Well, it's very hard to predict what's going on, because why was he working with the team, Like it's a two year contract. Uh, it just sounds like he's an exterminator. He's stuff. But then there's the maid who comes in to vacuum the mites away,

right right yep? So like why does he need a tiny guy to get rid of the mites? If he the tiny guy to get rid of the mites? Is the I had to fing you and ask in a story? Been Shapiro rude about using ten Yeah, we'll see if it's if it clears, it's so bad it I believe he's an exterminator. Okay, you're putting that out there, all right, That's that's how it seems to be going on to me. I believe the story is bad. I believe that I

think it might be corporate espionage. I think, yeah, it seems like he would have said something at all about it, other than like if anyone here knew what there was being said, they would they could make money off of it. You think, you think, because there's nothing about him transmitting data to anything, there's nothing about him recording anything. He doesn't seem to understand. Just he's just fighting these mites. He's just fighting mites. I think that's his gig. Presumably

we'll find out more information. Yeah, let's hope, but maybe not because the story is bad. Okay, but so like he's getting he's getting sucked into this guy's mouth, right, I know what, I know what I said. Uh, then then I remember the halo. I rip it out of my gearback. See that's called that's like that was good storytelling, right he introduced halo early on, and now here we are, I rip it out of my gear bag and hit

the button. It automatically inflates. Just say it inflates. Like it doesn't automatically inflates, then you wouldn't hit the button if there's a button. If not, all right, it automatically inflates. After I hit the button, I scramble like if you okay, I'm not no, not spend time on it moving on. I scramble in it does it does not deserve any more thought. I scramble inside the air tight space as

the halos buffeted on the waves of spit buff puffe. Okay, all right, yeah, maybe, okay, maybe I just don't know, like how the whereas used normally? Okay, Then the whale swallows the halo dash and I dash go flying backwards down his throat, past the blimp of his uvula, down his thorax, into the vast blackness beyond. The air pressure changes and I fall into the simul simultan formatting is terrible. I fall into the simultaneous darkness of unconsciousness. The wow

what wow, that's why I was confused. The air pressure changes, and I fall into the simultaneous darkness of unconsciousness. Oh no, I know what he's saying. He's both falling into the darkness of the body as he's passing out. But that's not Yeah, the darkness of the belly the darkness of unconsciousness simultaneously. Yeah, right, idea not a bad idea, like the crobe of an idea there for this one sentence is not bad but poorly executed. Yeah, maybe like I can't.

I couldn't afterwards, I wouldn't be able to remit. I wouldn't be able to tell if I had passed out for before it had gotten darker like what, I don't know. Maybe even don't mention that because there's no real way to or just like like darkness of h I passed out on the way down, everything went black? Uh, some darkness of the darkness. There's a number of simpler ways to frame it. More time could be spent on it, and more time than we're willing to spend on it.

So moving on September, predict what this next sentence says, Has he spent several days in explicably inside a man? Well, so the previous section said, September twenty, Yeah, okay, it's the next day, September one, colon, I don't know what day it is. Oh my god, it's funny. That is funny, beautiful, perfect, yeah, perfect author, September one. I don't know what day it is. I assume it's three days and to wake up. When I opened my eyes this morning or is it afternoon,

I couldn't see much. I lit my semicolon, I lit my hand lantern and looked around I seemed to be in an enormous dark cave. You know where you are? What do you like? Yeah? Like you? He knows he was swallowed. Also, I'm sorry he was swallowed by the whale. Like, come on, man, I know that's what I keep thinking. They decided to comb the whale. Kind of embarrassing, But it is embarrassing whatever. I seemed to be an enormous cave, even though I know that I was swallowed moments ago

almost a huge, ugly veined dome. It must be the whale's stomach. Yeah, no ship. The halo is caught near the top of the bean shaped space, which shines with a weird pale reflection from the lantern. It's pink and slimy and ridged or rigid. I don't know what he means except for two anomalies. A red hole filled with puss and blood and an odd yellow patch thick pulsating like an enormous caterpillar. The halo has an oxygen eight or so at least I won't suffocate, and I have

nutrition packs to last me a week. Thank god. The halo caught me at the top of the stomach. I can't imagine that allowing the whales antibodies to attack me and the intestines would be a healthy process. Wait a second, Okay, I thought he was Okay, I can't imagine letting the whales antibodies attack me would be a healthy process. Well, so, first of all, maybe like the stomach acid is what you should be worried about. Um, not like the thing

that happens after that. But whatever, Um, I'm gonna read this again because it's poorly written. I can't imagine that allowing the whales antibodies to attack me in the it doesn't matter, all right. They're going to need to find a way to extract me though. The reversal process is set to start tonight. And while the whales big, he isn't that big? Is big? Whales big? If they don't get me out of here, I'll tear right through his stum wall, right through his abdomen. I'd better alert them.

I reached into my bag and pick up the beacon. I hit it once. The light flashes bright, illuminating the stomach like an enormous palpitating monster. Okay, and then I hear Jensen, my former best friend history, the guy I went to high school with, more history. Wowee, For the first time since Phillips died, a human voice adjusted for pitch. I almost cry camp Is that you over Roger Jensen? God man, it's good to hear your voice over. There's a pause on the other end. How are you? I'm

puzzled by this. Can't you see where I'm calling from? The beacon has a tracker on it. Say say again, Jensen, I'm in the whale. Another pause, along, pause, this time broken by static. Describe your status, Kemp, I'm in his stomach. Understood. What do you see his stomach? Jensen? What the hell else would I see? I look around again. He has to be getting at something. Then it hits me all at once, that yellow mass. It's a tumor. The whale

is dying. Suddenly, Yeah, that was the worst, laughed everybody h conflict, tension, drama. Suddenly, thoughts are whirling through my brain, almost too fast for me to keep up. I'm probably the only one outside his doctors who know, outside of his doctors who know he runs a billion dollar empire. His stock price would drop through the floor if the public knew he had months to live. I'm a wealthy man, but all I want to do is get home to my wife. Jensen, I say, you tell the whale that

I don't want anything from him. All I want is to go home, get me the hell out of here, and I won't say a word about the tumor not a word. A firm, Jensen, A firm. The beacon goes dead. I haven't prayed since I was a child. I don't believe in God. No God would play the cosmic joke of letting the whale fall into so much wealth then curse him with an obsessive, compulsive dislike of dust mites so strong that he'd spent half the wealth developing the

shrinking system and hiring dudes like me. To man, you are right, you are right. You hired him to kill them. My store him dumbest premise of a science fiction story I think I've ever heard. Oh I can't o God. I can because here's the thing, Cody. To get on Ben's level, you have to imagine what the dumbest thing could possibly be, and then try to make it a little dumber, and you'll get close to whatever been simple math. It's a formula. Are we at a stopping point? Yeah?

I think I think now that we know what this story is about. Shouldn't waste any more of your Christmas hiding in a closet or a bathroom listening to them again, it's kind of a cool there's a cool a germ of a cool idea. Here a rich guy who's just out of his mind and hiring people to be shrunk down and like toil in order to clean his his house. At the atomic level, you could say some things with that, um it. I would say that the way to make it interesting would not be to make it a dude

fighting dust fights, because that's boarding as hell. But maybe it's like a chain gang, maybe in like the future, prisoners or mortgaged and they found a way to assassinate this billionaire who's got them slaving away cleaning the fibers of his carpet. I don't know. There's things could be done with this and to say about it if you were the kind of person who wrote stories, um interesting. Uh you say dudes, um because that's what I said, But I'm pretty sure I inserted that. I don't know

if he intended to say dudes or not. Yeah, he says he'd spend so strong dust. My dislike of dust, my so strong, but not like his filthy, filthy mouth, apparently so strong that he spent half that wealth developing the shrinking system and hiring duds like me to man it, right. I think he meant dudes like a bird on himself, only doesn't talk about himself like he's a dude, talking about himself like he's a superhero able to you know, take the it's of course now I can shoot these lasers.

You know what I mean? Yeah, yeah, it's knowing Ben, It's more likely that he misspelled dudes and that and that would be a typo, so that this story is a dud. It's a dud. It's a close out though the last sentence of this paragraph that blew the whole story. Why dope, how bet is? It's all too absurd? Ye? Yeah, it is very absurd. Okay, well that's gonna do it here at worst year ever for before the holiday, So

enjoy the holiday. Um. And you know, if you need some extra cash to buy presents, consider shrinking yourself down to the size of a DustMite. Yeah, like, that's so inefficient. Hire two guys like he describes hundreds poisons that kill mits like it's not Also the woman who vacuums them up. Um. The worst way to do it is to have two guys with guns shoot them. Yeah. If you're like half of your fortune to develop this, spend half your fortune on a better idea, like give that money to somebody

and be like, well, actually, what if you do this? Yeah, Like this guy hates the idea of dust mites, but he's fine with tiny people shooting things in his carpet. Like, again, you're not considering the mites that those tiny people are carrying. Yeah, they're also going to be covered in they're they're being shrunk. I don't know how that man's bathing. He's got to be shipping and pissing. Yes, yeah, he's covering the two years worth of tiny ship and piss human chit piss.

Who's that I'll say it again? Or is bad? It's bad? Any who? Mary Crimbo, that's tiny little the last episode, everybody, that's unbelievable. Not dropping next week because we need a break. It was great, was no notes. I feel like that's what everybody says about at all. You know what, you guys, The year is bad. I guess if Mary less bad than the year before, but just marginally. It depends on on Yeah, it's how you're looking at it in different in some ways, in some ways always it wasn't you know?

What it is is time for you to stop listening to this podcast. Now, go go out into the family room and tongue kiss your uncle. Come on the racist one to get in there for the good story, and then tell us about it. Take a pis, have someone videotape you tongue kissing your racist uncle. Posted on Twitter, say this is my racist uncle, but even though he's racist, we can still tongue kiss hashtag together, bridging the divide,

Bridging the divide. There you go, You're welcome everything. Danil Worst Year Ever is a production of I Heart Radio. For more podcasts from my heart Radio, visit the i heart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows.