Get Kraken - Season 1 Episode 8
In the season 1 finale, Dr. Eurus receives some bad news.
Tides was written by Jesse Schuschu and directed by Jesse Schuschu and Ayla Taylor. It was produced by Ayla Taylor and edited by Bridge Geene. Art by Sarah Durst.
Dr. Winifred Eurus - Julia Schifini
Dr. Victor Stevens - Jordan Higgs
Dr. Robert Montague - James Oliva
Dr. Melissa Wang - Emily Wang
Captain Ed Ricketts - Zach Libresco
Tides is the story of Dr. Winifred Eurus, a xenobiologist trapped on an unfamiliar planet with hostile tidal forces. She must use her wits, sarcasm and intellectual curiosity to survive long enough to be rescued. But there might be more to life on this planet than she expected. . .
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Music in intro is "Shimmer" by Scott Holms and the ending music is "Drift" by Scott Holms.
"Show Me the Way to Go Home" is by Irving King.
Sound effects include those that were previously credited and:
"Engine starts, runs for a bit, stops." by originalmaja on Freesound.org
Other sound effects used in this episode were either downloaded in accordance with their copyright or were created for the use in this podcast.
Winifred Eurus: [Humming]
Show me the way to go home
I'm tired and I want to go to bed
I had a little drink about an hour ago
And it’s gone right to my head.
Okay. [Sigh] Twenty minutes to go, where are you guys? Hellooooo. Anybody there? Must be having coms problems again. Of course. It feels right after everything that's happened.
I can’t see anything . . . the clouds are moving in again. I wouldn’t be able to see it yet anyway.
Melissa won’t have to worry about the clouds, she’ll have guidance from the ship’s sensors on the way down. So hopefully she won’t miss. I’d hate to hike a mile to a landing site. I’ve had quite enough walking around this godforsaken place.
Though I wouldn’t mind making a few more observations - if I had a good excuse. But no. I’m tired. I just wanna go to bed.
[Broadcasting voice] This is Dr. Winifred Eurus. Come in Stribog, can you read me?
Guess I’ll pack up my stuff a little. Maybe this outcropping will be some sort of historical shrine, in the future? A tourist destination, like Plymouth rock. The implications of colonialism inherent in that comparison are unfortunate.
Alright. Five minutes left. Five minutes left. I can’t sit still. It should take a few minutes to fall through the atmosphere, curving in from the west. I might see a bright point of light. I will definitely see the parachute. I’m sorry I can’t hear you guys, if you’re trying to get through to me.
Oh, I am probably being distracting, aren’t I? Shit. Fuck. Okay. Ignore me, please.
Launch should have been, what, ten minutes ago. I still can’t see anything. They may have been delayed. I don't know. There could have been technical difficulties, anything. I'll just. . . Okay. It's fine, it's fine. I’ll just sit tight, for now. No big deal. I'll see you soon.
It’s been fifteen minutes. No change, nothing. I know their window is narrow, if they don’t get this done soon, it’s just, it's not gonna get done.
Shiiiiiiiit. Shit shit shit. It’s been over fucking half hour now. So either something went wrong, or . . . well, fucking something went wrong. Son of a bitch.
[Pissed] Why can’t you guys do anything right. Jesus motherfucking Christ. I leave for a few days and everything just goes to fucking shit. You can’t even do your fucking astronaut fucking jobs landing the fucking ship Melissa god damn it!
Melissa I -
Shit shit Melissa oh god. Fuck.-
Look, I’m really sorry guys. I didn’t mean to get mad before. I’m just a little . . . confused, worried, out of the loop. Please just talk to me again.
Melissa? Are you, are you okay? Is Dr. Wang okay? Erickson, Montague, if you screwed up, just come out and tell me. Just tell me right the fuck now. I won’t be mad. But I will fucking murder you. I will reach up and pluck that toy spaceship right out of the goddamn sky and drag it into the depths of this goddamn fucking sea.
[Muttering and slamming sounds] Stupid fucking thing. Just work! Work goddamnit! Just because your stupid button fell off last time does not mean you get the excuse to just fucking not work when I need it. God damn it! Fuck!
Do you just not want to talk to me? Is it because I make it so difficult, I never open up, is that it Montague? So now that I need somebody, just anybody, I get punished for it. Just like fucking usual.
Melissa, I didn’t, I didn't think you would leave me behind. You of all people I expected more from. The others, sure, fine. But I thought - I thought. . .
I thought we were friends.
I hope nothing happened to you up there.
Fuck, Robert. How did I screw it all up. You never had trouble letting me know before; so what did I do? Please just tell me.
I wish everyone would just tell me what I’m doing wrong. Then maybe I could do something and fix it. Just tell me what I'm doing wrong!
Hello. Hello. Come in Stribog. Hello. Hello. Come in Stribog.
Hey?! Anyone there? Hey! HEY! Anyone there? Anyone at all?
Wang: . . .Hello can you hear me? Fred? Fred?
Eurus: Melissa! Fuck! Holy crap, you’re okay! What’s going on up there?
Wang: Okay, I’m fine, but . . .
Eurus: Wait, if you’re fine, why am I still down here?
Wang: Well . . .
Eurus: Ohhh no. Oh nonono. Melissa no!
Wang: Yeah. It’s a logistics issue. We don’t have enough fuel for the maneuvering jets to keep us in this orbit. Also, the external sensors are damaged from trying to stay in the middle of the storm. They’ll take weeks to repair. Using the fuel from the dropship, I can move us into a vector heading out to Juturna. On the way we can pick up ice from the rings, and we’ll have enough to accelerate on our way back after looping around the other moon and dumping some of our mass. But, as you know, it’ll take time.
Eurus: How long?
Wang: Uh, thirty-five days, give or take. Earth days that is.
Eurus: But we - it took like a year to go billions of miles to get here, can’t you just, I don't know, turn on -
Wang: I can’t do what you’re thinking, for precisely that reason. If I tried using the main engines in here, I’d shoot us out of this system in a matter of seconds. I can’t do it. Those are interstellar drives, there’s just too much debris and not enough room in here. But I can sub-luminally just about push us enough to loop around the other moon and be back here in time to meet up with Fons again.
Eurus: Uh, how is he?
Wang: He? Oh. Stable. Still unconscious, but alive.
Eurus: If only he could’ve - I mean… I’m glad he’s alive, but Melissa . . .
Wang: Yes Fred?
Eurus: Melissa . . . have you all lost your goddamn minds up there?
Wang: Excuse me? What do you mean?
Eurus: You know EXACTLY what I mean, are you all SERIOUSLY considering letting me DIE on this SHITTY, FUCKING ROCK?
Wang: Hold on a minute, we’re going to drop supplies before we . . .
Eurus: You think I can make it through another MONTH on GRANOLA BARS? I’m falling apart down here!
Wang: Stop being dramatic. Fred please just listen -
Eurus: NO. I am DONE listening to bullshit excuses. None of you have a goddamn CLUE what I’ve been going through down here! If you did, you’d . . . figure something out!
Wang: That’s completely-
Stevens: Hey, I heard you got her back on the radio -
Eurus: AND YOU.
Wang: Don't start, Fred.
Stevens: Fred! Hey, it’s me, Stevens. Can you hear me?
Eurus: Listen to me for once you spineless dillhole: what have you even been doing to help me out this entire fucking time?
Wang: Fred! I know you’re upset, but you can’t just -
Stevens: Dr. Eurus . . . uh . . .
Wang: - talk to him like that, you’re making him upset!
Eurus: Look, thanks Melissa, but you don’t need to speak for him. He’s a goddamn adult.
Wang: I was just -
Stevens: No, Dr. Wang, she’s right. I appreciate it, but she’s right. Jesus, Fred. I’m so sorry.
Wang: You shouldn’t be the one apologizing. You didn’t do anything.
Stevens: No, I didn’t, that’s part of the problem. But also, I just, I'm . . . I’m sorry . . . I didn’t come down there with you in the first place. It’s my fault you’re alone.
Eurus: I mean, look . . . I made it clear I didn’t want you to. I wanted more space for all my samples. Which are all destroyed . . . But I thought I could do it all by myself.
Stevens: Yeah, I get that. But that’s not why I didn’t go. I let you talk me out of it, because you seemed so certain, and I was intimidated. Working alone with you for days sounded terrifying, especially if you didn’t want me there. Because you really didn’t want me there, did you?
Eurus: Well, no.
Stevens: But I could have insisted. I wanted to. I wanted to go and see the fish and plants and birds and shells. So it wasn’t great of you just deciding to go alone, and making me feel like I couldn’t come. But it also wasn’t so great of me either, because I let you.
Wang: None of this is your fault, Victor.
Eurus: It had nothing to do with you!
Stevens: Of course it has to do with me! That’s what you’re forgetting down there. It has to do with all of us. Dr. Eurus, Rob’s in a frickin coma. His heart stopped and I had to run down to the hanger bay and resuscitate him. He literally died trying to help you and you’re questioning whether he or I or Dr. Wang or any of the other people on this ship care about you! We know we’ve screwed up, and you’re suffering because of it, and we’re reminded of it every minute you aren’t here. It eats at me! You are our responsibility, because you’re one of us.
Eurus: I don’t want to be anyone else’s responsibility! That’s something you’re doing to yourself, Stevens.
Wang: No, he has a point. You don’t get to tell us not to feel responsible. You were also, I recall, yelling quite emphatically that no one cared about you just a moment ago. So, Fred, which is it? Are we not trying hard enough, or do you want us to stop trying? Or do you just feel guilty that your friend got hurt trying to help you? And now that guilt and self-pity is making you push us away, and you’re aware, but can’t bloody well stop doing it.
Eurus: Look, I'm . . . I’m sorry about Montague. Listen, I’m not sure I’d call him a friend, but I guess that he's . . .
Montague: Hey hey hey . . . mind finishing that sentence, Winny?
Eurus: Don’t call me Winny. Wait - Montague? What the fuck?
Montague: 'Sup. Uh, Fear not. Fear not, my children -
Wang: I’m older than you.
Montague: - for on the third day I have risen!
Stevens: And it’s only been a few hours. Rob, you should really go lie down . . .
Montague: Irregardless, I have returned as was prophesied, in the flesh. Go ahead, Victor, put your hands in my wounds.
Stevens: You don't have any wounds but if you did, super gross, no thanks!
Wang: I want to see where he’s going with this. Robert, may I ask, are you an apparition or merely a reanimated corpse? Have you come to deliver a message to us?
Eurus: Oh Melissa, don't encourage him!
Wang: I just want to know!
Eurus: Don't. . .
Montague: Dr. Wang! You're looking fabulous today.
Wang: Aw, thank you.
Montague: I will answer that question. My spirit has traveled far, far beyond this realm, only to be drawn back by some unknown force! With the fading memory of paths unseen by the eyes of living men, farther than any mortal has ever traveled and returned -
[Sounds of running feet, then skidding]
Ricketts: Montague! Montague, Dr. Martinez is looking all over for you.
Montague: Who called the cops? You’ll never take me alive, Cap! Never! [Maniacal laughter]
Stevens: Oh god, I'm going to have to save him again.
Ricketts: Get back to the infirmary, or I’ll prove you right!
Montague: The fragile concerns of this body, this world, no longer trouble me, Captain. Why do my hands keep twitching?
Ricketts: Jesus, Montague, why do you have to be like this.
Montague: Winny! Hey! You’ve got my back! Hey! Tell this man I am in complete control of my faculties! That there's nothing wrong with me and this is totally normal!
Eurus: [heavy sigh] Don’t - can we just not do this right now?
Montague: But Winny -
Eurus: No no no. Not today.
Montague: Winny! Winny! Winny!
Eurus: No, don't call me that! If you call me that just one more time, Bobby.
Wang: Don’t sink to his level, Fred. Is he on painkillers or something? He’s acting pretty out of it.
Eurus: No, no, no, this is just him being an ass, I can tell.
Ricketts: Actually she’s right, this is all him. Though he really should be resting.
Montague: Resting?! Resting! I believe I rested enough when I was dead! Yes.
Wang: I can’t believe you told him his heart stopped, Ed.
Eurus: Why would you do that, captain?
Ricketts: . . . I think it freaked him out a little. Possibly broke him.
Wang: You don't say?
Eurus: You thinks?
Montague: I’m fine! But in light of that, in all seriousness, I’d like to at least say goodbye to my friend first.
Eurus: . . . Wait, I'm sorry. Friend?
Montague: Yeah. You. My friend. The only one down on the surface, right? You don't have anyone else down there with you, right. The one I won’t see for a month? I wanted to, you know, say bon voyage and all that jazz.
Eurus: Montague, you could have, you know, said that earlier. Also I didn’t need you to say it at all. You didn’t have to drag yourself out of your deathbed to come do this.
Montague: Well sorry, Winny, but here I am, in all my glory.
Montague: And there’s nothing I can do to get you rescued faster, but I wanted to at least hear from you again before we left.
Eurus: Okay. First of all, call me by my name.
Montague: Ah, uh, right, sorry. Uhhhhh. . .
Eurus: Did you really forget it?
Montague: Fred. . .erick?
Eurus: Nope. Not it.
Eurus: Nope, not it.
Montague: Fred. Cool.
Eurus: Second of all - thanks for trying. Oh no sorry. That sounded sarcastic. What I mean is, I appreciate you and Melissa trying to risking your lives to come get me.
Ricketts: I should point out that if he had succeeded, we might have lost both you and Dr. Wang when she crashed into the planet without any sensors or navigational guidance.
Eurus: I know. I appreciate you risking that. I’m just sorry you two couldn’t figure it out . . . Damn. That was sarcasm again.
Wang: That does seem to creep in despite your best intentions.
Eurus: It does. . .
Wang: That said, I’ll take it. Do you agree, Robert?
Montague: Well. . .
Montague: Well, it’s the closest she’s come to thanking me . . . ever . . . so I’ll make do with it as well.
Eurus: Hey, it’s the closest you’ve come to actually doing something useful, then you had to go and - . . . oh wait. Right. Die . . . Sorry . . . Sorry, that was dumb.
Wang: Tack, Fred.
Montague: Oh don’t mention it. I’m fine now anyway, right guys?
Ricketts: . . . no you’re not . . .
Montague: Thanks, mom. The point is I’ll be okay. Dr. Wang is okay. Stevens is okay. Mr. Rickets over here is okay. Everyone else too. You’ll be okay. Everything will be fine.
Eurus: How do you know that?
Montague: I . . . I, uh, I don’t. But, uh, it sounds like there’s a lot of scary stuff down there. I want to be there to help you with it, but . . .
Stevens: . . . but we can’t yet. But we will. You’ll just have to trust us, I guess. I know it must suck having to wait. And also to trust us. . .
Eurus: You have no idea how much this sucks. Often in new and surprising ways.
Wang: Yes, Fred, we can’t imagine it. But let’s work on the assumption that it’s sufficiently horrible that we have plenty of good reasons to come back for you, yes?
Eurus: I -
Eurus: Okay. Fine. Do what you all need to do. I’ll do what I need to do down here.
Ricketts: . . . good? And on that note, we’ll get to putting together the last supply drop. Then we’ll have to leave orbit.
Eurus: Oh, just one thing.
Ricketts: What? Any special requests?
Eurus: No. Fucking. Banana. Or raisins. God damn.
Ricketts: I think we can swing that. I’ll see what we have in the stores.
Eurus: Actually, wait, two things. What have we got in terms of seismic equipment?
Montague: Oh, Dr. Eurus . . . I thought you’d never ask.
Eurus: I'm sorry, what was that? You’re starting to break up.
Wang: [staticky] I said, I’ll take some pictures as we pass through the ice rings. Maybe five days of drifting til we get there.
Eurus: Send me them, if you can.
Wang: Not sure if they’ll be able to get through. But I can try.
Eurus: I look forward to seeing them. You’d better damn well try, girl.
Wang: All right.
Montague: Yeah we’ll collect some icy rocks, scoop up stray dust, build up our hydrogen reserves, drop that sweet automated probe on Juturna, then loop around back to you. We’ll come back a lot faster than we’re leaving, because we’ll be able to accelerate and we won’t have that extra mass slowing us down.
Eurus: You must be so excited about those icy rocks.
Montague: I am actually. Can't wait.
Wang: And if we pick up enough speed we might get back in under a month.
Eurus: I don’t see why you have to take your time about it.
Montague: [Starting to break up] Look, I know you’re going to miss me, you don’t have to, you know, say it or anything, it's completely -
Wang: Okay, okay Fred, remember to - [static]
Eurus: Wait I -
Eurus: Oh. Bye, I guess.
Show me the way to go home
I'm tired and I want to go to bed
I had a little drink about an hour ago
And it’s gone right to my head
Wherever I may roam
O’er land or sea or foam
You can always hear me singing this song
Show me the way to go home.
[Sigh] Day time, day time. It’s always sunny on Fons; except of course at night. The next wave will be arriving shortly. Now that I know what to look for, the signs of the impending cataclysm are evident. Anything moving burrows into the mud. The tentacle-y parasites - I think I want to call them squiogs - stop moving in and out of the shells. The trees are short, their fronds spread flat against the ground, stalks tucked into their unseen bulbs. I saw a few trios of birds heading inland. I don’t know if the Schuyler sisters are among them or not, but I don't know . . .
The eggs of that polyamorous triad are right where they left them, stuck on the ground. Actually, I’m confused as to the reproduction strategy here; they leave their young unattended and yet get all annoyed when I stepped on one. My only guess as to why they are left around is to be picked up by the wave. To be carried somewhere else, colonizing new shores. Maybe they need the water to hatch. That's an interesting thought. . .
It’s a still, quiet afternoon, and we are all waiting for what comes next. Where the currents will deposit me this time.
I was able to limp down to the drop site. My leg is still swollen, not fully back to normal yet. But it wasn’t as far this time. Which is a good thing, because there was a lot more stuff to sort through. More than enough for my forty days in the wilderness. Well, more like thirty or so. Still, no locusts or honey for me. [Sigh]
I got some new equipment as well. A few sensors capable of detecting vibrations of a wide range of frequencies that Montague had to spare. I have plans for them. Additional modular computing parts that can bulk up my suit computer if I need to analyze large amounts of data. Some simple chemistry lab supplies and sample vials. And more powerful broadcasting equipment, which is how I’m going to send this message to you, once I’ve finished it.
Don’t worry, I’m actually back up on the rocks already. Anything I couldn’t carry up here with me is buried two feet under the sand with a pile of rocks on top. It’s all bundled in a parachute, tied with a cord, and then the cord is tied to a boulder that’s part of the outcropping and, just, it won’t move. I can try bringing more stuff up after this cycle.
In the meantime, I’ve been doing something I haven’t done in quite a while. It’s a simple activity. First you find a rock. Flatter ones are better, slightly embedded in the loose gravel up here is the best. You want a fairly big one, but one that you can easily move in a single quick motion. And then . . . you flip it. [Thud]. Heh.
Not the most scientific approach; because I’m limited to rocks suitable for the procedure, I only encounter small creatures that also happen to prefer these kinds of rocks. Maybe very strange or very different things hide only in the sand or deeper down. And the flipping is intrusive, disruptive. I don’t see their normal behavior, only their behavior under stress.
I realize after going through my notes that I’ve been preoccupied with the large, the ostentatious, the loud. The true diversity of any ecosystem is in the tiny and hidden. Unfortunately I can’t jump into cataloging every species with the level of thoughtful, comprehensive study it deserves yet, having no reference point to begin with. I have to start by turning over rocks, and seeing what I see. On Earth new species of beetles are discovered constantly even to this day, with similar methodologies. Fons is no less diverse, and hey, no one’s even started trying yet.
Under each rock there is an entire new world. There are tiny creatures the size of ants encased in scarlet armor, with five limbs each, that turn in spirals to escape the light coming in when their rock is moved. Common are smaller worms, green and purple and brown. Earlier I saw a fuzzy coal-black ball thing with a single long jointed leg that pulled itself along by centimeters.
The rock I’m looking at right now was covered on the underside by that mold or fungus that wilts in the sun. As the mold dies creeping threads like strands of spider-silk worm their way out of it and escape into crevices in the rock. At this point I don’t even know if they just lived in the mold, or are somehow part of it, another stage of its life cycle.
There’s also - oh shit. I think it’s coming now. I'd better hold on.
[Water rushing] This was. Funner. The first time! Now I. Just want it to. Please stop! God damnit. Fuck.
So, am I bitter? No, I’m more . . . salty. [Laughs] No, sorry, that's terrible.
It’s safe to say I am not super happy with the situation. However, every distinct piece of it makes sense. Everyone involved made rational decisions; there was nothing else to do. I even trust their motivations, I think they tried to do everything possible.
I just . . . I just wish that made me feel better.
The snailiens aren’t coming out to play. A few poked their heads out, furtively, but that’s it though.
I can’t see those spiky - oh wait. There they are. They’ve risen to the surface. Two are in front, moving on paths that will take them to either side of my little island.
The third is in the middle and further back. Is it just me, or is it being towed by the other two? There are even sort of - ropes, or something - attaching them. What is . . . they haven’t changed course. Oh no, are they going to clothesline me?
The middle one . . . is going to . . . uh oh . . .Oh fuck!
Holy mother - what the hell?
What the fuck is going on?!
I’m creeping closer to the spike ball on the rocks - ha ha, my kind of drink, I guess - What are the others doing? They are . . . just floating there and OH MY GOD.
The hatches on the other two opened and familiar tentacled faces poked out. They’re full of snailiens. Like four or five in each one. What the fuck -
I hope and also don’t hope there are more in this one. Eurgh. Uh . . .
It’s pretty much the same except - oh. There’s a door on the side. A . . . metal. . . door.
I recognize that door. The last time I saw it I was struggling to get it open as the glass porthole started to splinter and water was leaking in from the cracks where I had run into rocks at the bottom.
It’s the fucking sub. It say Tellus Initiative on the hatch. Underneath - yep, still there. The original name, ‘Deep’ something, scratched out and replaced with one I chose myself - the Jacqueline.
What is even happening right now?
Okay, here we go. Okay.
The interior is - strange. It’s the same, for the most part. In a manner of speaking. About half of everything is exactly the same, polished like new even. The engine is intact, thankfully.
But the other half is made of glass.
Not glass like a window or a wine glass. It’s like the glass you see in the ground around a lightning strike. When the sand fuses into hard, brittle slag. It’s green in places, brown or translucent in others. But it glints and glimmers in the light from the doorway.
A glass chair, half a glass table. Parts of the lab equipment replaced with glass, mostly making them nonfunctional. Glass sections of the monitors and glass keyboards. It’s . . . it's beautiful.
The portholes are all covered by shell material, so it’s dark in here, but yeah - it’s mostly the same as it was. Cracks in the walls are filled in with nacre, like iridescent veins, like kintsugi. The entire sub is covered by shell. Probably it’s all that’s holding it together.
The buttons . . . don’t seem to be working. Whoever, whatever, did this didn’t seem to know how it functioned. Or maybe they didn’t have the time.
In the middle of the floor is a little lump of dark glass, maybe four inches tall. It’s a disquietingly humanoid figure. Two legs, two arms, a bulbous head with a wide flat area in the front like a visor - is this supposed to be . . . me?
I'm not that short.
If I hold it up to the light - oh shit!
Well that’s terrifying. It’s translucent, and when the light shines through, I can see faintly within the glass the shape of a skull staring back at me. A human skull.
How did they know the sub was mine? Who or what knew to bring it here? How did they do this so fast, analyze and study and fix it in just a few cycles of the tide? What - Was it the goddamn snailiens?
Bob . . . Bob, I knew you were holding out on me, but this . . .
Wait. All the controls were here before. Except for this one, a lever set into the floor. What happens when I . . .
Guys - I think we’re back in business.
Thank you so much for listening to our season one finale! We had such a great time making this season and we hope you had a great time listening to it! We couldn’t have done it without your support.
Tides was written by Jesse Schuschu and directed by Jesse Schuschu and Ayla Taylor. It was produced by Ayla Taylor and edited by Bridge Geene.
The voice of Dr. Eurus is Julia Schifini. Dr. Victor Stevens was voiced by Jordan Higgs. Dr. Robert Montague is James Oliva, Dr. Melissa Wang is Emily Wang, and Captain Ed Ricketts is Zach Libresco.
Special thanks to Sarah Durst for designing our cover art. She also designed our new merch, which you can find at teepublic.com/stores/tides or by going to our website and clicking “Store”.
You can find us online at our website tidespodcast.com and follow us on Tumblr and Twitter at @tidespodcast. If you like our show and would like to help us keep making it, you can support us on Patreon at patreon.com/tidespodcast. Special thanks again to Abysmii, for their particularly generous donation.
We are close to our goal for miniepisodes! We hope to If you want to hear some explorations of these characters, please consider supporting us! We hope to have the miniepisode out by fall, so you will still get Tides content while we work on season 2, which will be coming out in 2019.
This month we would like to recommend another great show you should be listening to: Lake Clarity. Five teens head up to Camp Clarity to celebrate their last summer together, but they unknowingly unleash an old evil that has been dormant beneath the lake. Now, a young journalist begins to find discrepancies about the missing kids. Join Sam as she delves head first into an old feud, and large conspiracy.
And now . . .
This is Dr. Winifred Eurus and this is an Ocean Fact: The ocean is really fucking big. . . but it feels smaller when you aren’t alone.