It’s hard to feel good about too much of anything these days. Just watch the news! It’s a constant cavalcade of negativity and bleak outlooks. And even in those rare instances when optimism is high (like when you come up with the idea to host a rewatch podcast about the USA legal drama Suits), things don’t work out as planned. I know each era has its own set of problems, but ours feel especially dire.

Have we as a society hit our breaking point? What unforeseen challenges lay ahead? Is a rewatch podcast hosted by people who were actually on the show inherently more interesting than one hosted by a fan? The answers in order: TBD, TBD, and apparently, yes—judging from the minuscule download numbers of my Suits podcast.

Every day, I’m hit with a barrage of horrible stories resulting in optimism that is in shorter and shorter supply. There’s governmental distrust on both sides of the aisle, a broken healthcare system, and two Suits cast members launching their own rewatch podcast a week after mine began. It’s almost too much for our modern brains to comprehend. Personally, I’m not wired to compete for downloads with Sidebar, hosted by Patrick J. Thomas, who played salt-of-the-earth genius Mike Ross, and Sarah Rafferty, who portrayed the loyal/intuitive Donna Paulsen.

Researchers say that this is the first time in history that new generations have a lower quality of life than those who preceded them. Economic mobility has stalled, home ownership is out of reach for many, and Rephonic.com has Sidebar ranked as the 19th most popular Apple podcast in Indonesia. And with the cancellation of Netflix’s With Love, Meghan, how long before the Duchess of Sussex throws some bespoke woven hat she tried to make on her failed show into the ring, seeking her own piece of the rewatch podcast pie? I just can’t imagine my grandfather, or his grandfather, facing this kind of uphill battle when starting their Suits rewatch podcasts.

That’s not to say that life is a constant onslaught of misery. Despite the rapidly-changing climate, there are still nice days, still sunrises and sunsets. When I take the kids to the park (between my grueling podcasting schedule), my heart is still warmed by the laughter of children who have never even heard of Sidebar. Sometimes, things still can go your way, like when you read that Patrick J. Thomas was cast in a Yellowstone spin-off and that his travel between Montana and Texas (along with an extensive press tour) will result in a hiatus from his rewatch podcast. And sometimes, a kind stranger smiles at you and leaves a 4-star review for your show, Sure Suits Me: A Suits Rewatch Podcast.

CAVE MAPS AT VISITORS CENTER, NOT IN CAVE (TURN BACK)

CAVE OPEN TO PUBLIC NIGHTLY, 8 P.M.–9 A.M.

WILDFIRE FORECAST: VERY HIGH. BUT NOT AT THE CAVE. CAVE WILL BE FIRE-FREE, AS ALWAYS.

HEAVY BAT PRESENCE AT THE CAVE TODAY. ENJOY!

ATTENTION: ESCAPED INMATES HIDING OUT IN CAVE. WILL STARVE SOON ENOUGH, NO REASON TO CANCEL YOUR CAVE VISIT.

CAUTION: CAVE DIMLY LIT. IDEAL FOR TAKING A BREAK FROM ANNOYING BRIGHT SUNLIGHT.

ALERT: CAVE-IN AT THE OLD MINE NEXT TO THE CAVE. CAVE STILL ACCESSIBLE AND STURDY.

GEYSER PATH ON LEFT. CAVE PATH ON RIGHT: SAFE DISTANCE FROM UNPREDICTABLE AND MALICIOUS GEYSER.

CAVE TEMPERATURE: 60 DEGREES, PERFECT TEMP AS ALWAYS.

CAUTION: CAVE NO MORE THAN 3 FEET HIGH IN MANY SECTIONS. PLENTY OF GOOD CRAWLING TO BE HAD.

DANGER: GEYSER COULD ERUPT FROM GROUND AT ANY MOMENT. WATER ALWAYS SCALDING. CAVE MERELY DAMP.

NOTICE: CAVE ACCOMMODATING MOVIE SHOOT TODAY FOR NEW FILM THE CHILEAN MINERS: WHAT WENT WRONG AND WHY IT WASN’T THE CAVE’S FAULT.

ATTN: DYNAMITE FOUND IN CAVE. COME GET YOURSELF A CRATE.

SEARCH AND RESCUE UNDERWAY IN CAVE: RESCUE CREW INSTRUCTED NOT TO HINDER VISITORS’ CAVE EXPERIENCES OR FACE EXPULSION.

BEHAVIORAL EXPECTATIONS IN THE CAVE: CAVE BRINGS OUT PRIMITIVE BEHAVIOR IN GUESTS. DISORDERLY CONDUCT WELCOMED.

ALL SOCIAL MEDIA SUBJECT TO REVIEW FOR ANY ANTI-CAVE BIAS / PRO-GEYSER EXTREMISTS VIEWS.

CAVE WEDDING IN PROGRESS. INQUIRE WITH CAVE PASTOR FOR FUTURE BOOKINGS.

WARNING: BEAR SIGHTED AT GEYSER. CAVE OPEN AS REFUGE TO ALL FLEEING BEAR / SCALDING GEYSER WATER.

GOLD DISCOVERED IN CAVE! CAVE JUST KEEPS ON GIVING.

WARNING: COLLAPSE OF CAVE ENTRANCE IMMINENT. LAST CHANCE TO GET IN CAVE BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE!

*Why no gifts? For our fellow parents, we know how exhausting it would be to buy a new gift for some random kid every week. Think of this as our gift to you. No need to buy anything for Brayden. You certainly don’t know Brayden well enough to know that he’s longing for a Mandalorian LEGO set, and that such a gift would catapult your child into the upper echelons of Brayden’s affections and perhaps cement a lifelong friendship. That information is irrelevant due to our no gifts request.

It is popular these days to say “no gifts” on invitations. But we don’t do what everyone else is doing just because. We’re not going to jump off the Brooklyn Bridge and we are certainly not going to enroll Brayden in whatever a “ninja class” is simply because his best friend Riley takes them. Why is each 30-minute class $45? Anyway, if you want to get him a gift certificate to the ninja class place, he wouldn’t kick that out of his race car bed. But seriously, no gifts are necessary.

We also say “no gifts” because it makes us sound non-materialistic, which, for the most part, we are. Unless it comes to the $75 eye cream that I, Brayden’s mom, really want—or the $1800 OLED TV Brayden’s dad is drooling over. We’re not suggesting you get us these things—the sticker prices are ridiculous. $75 for a 0.3 oz eye cream? Who are they kidding? That being said, we have set up a GoFundMe for these items and a few other things on our public Amazon Wish List. And aren’t these birthday parties really about celebrating the parents who work so hard to make Brayden’s childhood fantastic by doing stuff like putting together this Star Wars-themed birthday party despite not owning a single Star Wars LEGO set… yet?

If you don’t get us any gifts though, that’s completely cool. We don’t have room for them in our tiny apartment anyway. Especially anything PAW Patrol or PJ Masks-related. If you get him those things, know that they will be exchanged for something Brayden really wants, like a Yoto. If you aren’t familiar, it’s a portable music player that doesn’t have a screen. Why are they so expensive? Seriously can we get him a Walkman and call it a day? If any of Brayden’s grandparents want to get BrayBray the Yoto, we are cool with that. But really no one should feel obliged to get him anything. Come for the free cupcakes and coffee, stay for the engaging conversation about kindergarten enrollment! But here’s a link to that Yoto player if you want to check it out.

Okay, we know what you’re thinking: what if you don’t bring a gift and then you arrive at the party and so many other people have brought gifts that there’s an entire table filled with them and you are like “WTF? They said ‘no gifts.’ Now I look like an a-hole for being the only one to not get Brayden a gift, even though I followed the friggin instructions.” To that we would say, yes, that is a risk you take by following our clearly stated no gifts policy. If you can’t tolerate that level of social embarrassment (and if so, we completely understand) please check out the registry Brayden made for the express purpose of saving all you rule followers from ending up in the above Trauma-Rama scenario.

Truly, there is no pressure to bring anything! Unless you make so much money that you just don’t know what to do with it. We’re looking at you, Uncle Steve. We know you are sitting on Nvidia stock and three different beachfront properties. The least you could do is get Brayden a Woom bike (green, please!) or a down payment on a house that would fit more stuff so we could start accepting gifts at Brayden’s 6th birthday party.

Please RSVP by July 12th. And remember, no gifts! Except for you, Uncle Steve.

To: All Staff

Hi, people! Having a lovely time in Greece with my son. And his new wife, of course. Who knew this adventure would be such a hoot?

On our first morning, we explored the Acropolis. So majestic and inspiring. You really have to experience it in person. The birthplace of Western civilization, right? Hannah, his wife, wanted to do early check-in instead, can you believe it? She claimed to be exhausted from the overnight flight and the wedding. Is it me, or doth the lady protest too much?

After two days in the capital, I chartered a boat to take the three of us through the islands en route to Santorini, where I booked a cabana on a secluded beach. Such a charming place. We have been taking our morning coffee on the veranda and filling the days with excursions to ancient temples of Apollo, strolling along the shoreline, and candlelit dinners.

Hannah has mostly been good company, except for trying to sleep in some mornings, and occasionally—well, repeatedly, to be honest—suggesting that she and my son might want to do a few things on their own. To the point where it became necessary to remind her, gently, as to who is paying for everything.

In case you’re wondering about the wedding, it went fine. It had to be held in Baltimore, because that’s where Hannah is from, of all places. But it was fine, really. The harbor area is better than you would think.

I received lots of compliments on my gown. Thank you to everyone who helped me brainstorm that one. In the end, going with ivory was certainly the right call. Burgundy would have been far too subdued, especially for a summer wedding. And, to those concerned about the risk of a red wine spill, I am happy to report that we escaped unscathed.

The ceremony turned out to be quite touching, if I do say so myself. We had a little trouble finding a mutually-agreeable officiant, so I stepped up. As several of you know, I had to jump through hoops to get a special license to allow me to conduct the proceedings. I really didn’t mind, as Hannah and her parents seemed to have their hands more than full arranging the reception, catering, flowers, photographer, and so on. I offered to supervise all of it, to put my organizational prowess and exquisite taste to good use, but it was like pulling teeth to get them to change anything. They did meet me halfway on the entrée selections—I’ll give them that much.

Naturally, it fell to me to pull my son and Hannah off the dance floor so we could catch our flight to Athens. I don’t like flying red-eye either, but that was just the way the itinerary happened to work out. After all, I have a division to run. I can only step away from my professional responsibilities for so many days at a time. Hopefully everyone is holding it together until I return.

For your enjoyment, I am enclosing a selection of photos from the trip. My favorites are the ones of my son and me admiring the marble sculptures of the Parthenon, engaged in deep conversation on the prow of the charter boat—doesn’t he look so handsome in that white fitted shirt?—and swimming together in the Aegean at sunset. But look over the whole collection and decide for yourselves. Overall, Hannah is improving as a photographer, I have to admit.

We overnight in Paris on the way back. Surprise treat for Hannah, who has never been. I really don’t want this trip to end, as you can imagine, but of course I am looking forward to being back in the office managing all of you and guiding the team to success on our many projects, as well as supporting and cheering on my husband now that he has started chemo.

Multi-casualty incident with a partially collapsed building. We’ve got this guy, he’s unconscious. Over there, she looks bad, that’s a lot of blood. And I am not happy about the structural integrity of the building. Do we know if anyone’s still in—hey, don’t rush me. I’m not going to just shout “somebody get help” without a full assessment of the scene. We have to know what we’re dealing with.

All right, Officer. Can you move everyone back, please? A crowd like that can absorb volume. Just suck it away. Happened to me once on one of my earliest jobs. A zoo. A real dense crowd so no one could hear me.

That llama lost an eye.

Okay, so here’s the play. I’m going to rush in and kneel next to unconscious guy. One knee, all one movement. I’ll shout “somebody get help.” No, let’s make that “hey, somebody get help.” I’m going to add the “hey” because I’m worried about this guy. I’m not sure how long he’s been out.

She’s losing blood fast. She could be in real trouble. So, I want to kneel down there, right next to her. Get someone to move her bag. Then I’ll shout, “somebody get help” and—you know what? You’re right, Officer, that’s not going to be enough. That’s some good instincts. No, after I’ve shouted “somebody get help,” I’m going to stare at her for a while and look sad. Then I’ll stand up real quick, I’ll look around and then shout, “I said, can we get some help over here?” Then what I’m going to do is stare into the middle distance just a little bit after that second shout.

Officer. You have to be Johnny-on-the-spot here. I’m going to be standing up fast. Real fast. That sometimes makes me a little faint. So I need you to be ready to steady me, okay? Don’t be scared. You’ll do fine. You’re just steadying me a little, is all.

Then we got to deal with the building. It’s in bad shape. My worry is that it completely collapses before I get a chance to shout anything. What I’m going to do is rush up to it. It’ll look like I’m going to go inside, but then I’ll take a couple of steps back and I’m going to look stricken, you know? Like I’ve seen something real bad. Then, over my shoulder, “somebody get help.”

But, immediately after I’ve shouted, I’ll turn around and shout again, “We need some help over here.” And then, what I’m going to do is shout “please,” but in a really stern voice. It’ll sound like I’m almost angry. That way people know how serious this is. This is complicated, and it’s going to be tough, but—

Hey, Officer, don’t look so worried. I’m the best there is. You know, I advised Al Pacino on how to shout “somebody get help” in Heat. Before me, he was playing it tearful, you know? Sobbing, “Oh, please, please somebody get help.” I told him: “Al, I’ve got respect for you as an actor. Sea of Love is a hell of a performance.” It’s all ego with these Hollywood types. “But, Al, you’re playing this like a nervous horse. You can’t be crying. You’re forceful. You’re in charge. You are the one who is going to GET help.” He used that, and that’s why people call it the best moment of shouting “somebody get help” in the history of—

Hey, you! What the hell are you doing? You are not helping anyone, buddy. Has anyone shouted for help? No, they have not. Medical response, my ass. I don’t give a damn if you’re Doctor Phil or Doctor House or Doctor Who. This is my scene, and until I shout “somebody get help,” you are not required. This is a hell of a difficult situation here, people could die and the last thing I need is some dumbass doctors getting in my way. Get the hell outta here.

Okay, Officer, you ready? You good? Listen to me, I’ve shouted “somebody get help” thousands of times. We’re going to be fine here. Let’s do this.

During the days, actors would play capture the flag and practice archery. Sometimes, these activities would bleed into actual filming, which is why eagle-eyed viewers may be able to spot arrows flying through several key scenes. A similar explanation could be given for why in the third act of this period piece so many characters are suddenly wearing tie-dye shirts. A tie-dye mania set in near the middle of the shoot and many of those colorful designs were unable to be edited around in post-production.

Producers, stunt performers, and makeup artists would make friendship bracelets beneath the big birch tree while talking about which person on the film they liked. Were there crushes on set? You bet! Full on affairs? Seemingly! At times, the experience felt like a massive HR minefield. But after the initial wave of cast and crew walked off set, those who remained settled in for the shoot of their lives.

Sometimes we missed the real world, so we would line up at the payphone to call our agents, managers, and publicists with the spare change they’d given us when they dropped us off. Afterwards, we’d head to the dining hall for our nightly food fight. There were occasional gripes that the food being thrown didn’t align with various dietary restrictions.

As nighttime fell, we would settle into our bunkhouse for our 8 P.M. curfew. After the film’s assistant director, who also served as bunkleader, fell asleep, the girls would sneak out and smoke cigarettes and the boys would do panty raids. This might sound problematic now, but really it was just innocent hijinks.

At certain points, many of us forgot we were even making a film. The director of photography and the key grip became so enamored with the high ropes course that the director eventually had to pull them aside, only to ask why they weren’t including him in all the fun. Ditto for the production assistants and set dressers who battled so hard in a water balloon fight that their collective exhaustion forced them to take two weeks off.

When the studio heads came to the shoot, it was pretty obvious they were jealous of all the fun we were having. But after we invited them to roast weenies at the bonfire and take part in the talent show, they started to feel a bit better about their $90 million investment.

When the shoot wrapped, we cried because we knew it meant summer was over and that it was time to return to our palatial homes, expensive cars, and attractive spouses. But everyone took comfort in the fact that the friendships were going to last forever, or until one person from the film achieved a higher level of fame and stopped responding to others in the group chat.

So, to our audiences, this production was a labor of love. We hope you all enjoy this modern retelling of Sophie’s Choice. It was definitely a shoot—and a summer—that we’ll never forget.

Please, accept my apology and also a free slice of our Bitchin’ Zingtown Fried Cheesecake.

As you may know, Mildred and Patty Hill are the original writers of the everyday “Happy Birthday” song. And they are draconian when it comes to protecting their IP over a song that I guess took two people to write—even though the whole song only has five unique, non-name words. Nevertheless, chain restaurants like us are forced to write our own complicated and syncopated birthday songs for patrons like yourself.

Writing a birthday song is not easy. The Beatles were some of the best musicians to ever live. They wrote a birthday song, and it is absolute dog shit. So, you’ll understand if it takes people whose main job is to hawk Wicked Wanton Tacos and Mama Spankin’ Triple Cheese Nachos a couple of tries before we get the birthday song just right.

I can promise you, the next version of the song will have far fewer mentions of 9/11. Ideally, no more than one.

I can’t promise we’ll get down to no profanity in the next version, but we’ll do our best to reduce the amount of cursing and overt innuendo.

Wait, you’re counting “shit” as a cuss? What are we supposed to rhyme with “complimentary Nipple Twistin’ Queso Dip?” I guess I’ll figure something out; I’m already going to have to get on RhymeZone to find a new rhyme for “bundt.”

I can ask the staff to tone down the gyrating but honestly, once they get into it, the music sort of takes over their soul.

I’ll take your note about the song being too long under consideration, but I’d also remind you that people love “Stairway to Heaven” and “American Pie” and our song is roughly the same length as those two songs played back-to-back.

The next time we do the song it probably won’t have any instrumental portions or solos. If it does have a solo, we will use something less annoying than the fifth-grade recorder Kevin from the kitchen played just now.

You know what? I take that back. If Kevin keeps practicing and gets more consistent, then the recorder solo can stay.

Oh, I would hardly call what you saw “nudity” or “pornographic movements.” I think what you saw was pretty tasteful and artistic. The Supreme Court said they “know pornography when they see it,” and the Supreme Court, as far as I can tell, wasn’t here to see anything. Ipso facto, what you saw was fine.

No, you know what? I take it all back. The song absolutely bangs.

If you want quiet ambiance, upscale dishes, and quick birthday songs, you’d go to Delfano’s down the street. But you come here for… well, I don’t know exactly why you come here. But this song represents the soul of the restaurant: a place that bravely fuses Americanized Mexican flavors with Americanized Asian flavors and also has pasta for some reason.

So go ahead, tell everyone you’re never coming back. Have a fancy dinner next year at Delfano’s. But we both know, as you’re choking down those soy-glazed carrots and listening to their pathetic, eight-second birthday “song,” you’ll wish you were back here. You’ll wish you were seven minutes into our birthday song, the staff gesticulating and ripping open their shirts having just finished the fifth verse, the one that mentions Al Qaeda trying and failing to take down our Tower of Scrotum Slappin’ Onion Rings, as Kevin hangs upside down from the light over the pool table and absolutely melts everyone’s face with the entire solo from “Free Bird” played on his recorder.

Hi, sorry to interrupt! So, it turns out we ran out of cheddar. Would Swiss be all right? Great, I’ll let them know.

So it looks like our last shipment of tuna just ran out. Not to worry! There’s another truckload coming in just a few.

Excuse me, so sorry! Chef Roberts was trying to open the new tuna can, and his thumb got stuck in the ring. It’s no problem at all. No need to change your order! Our kitchen boy Johnny’s just running to the store to grab some WD-40 so we can grease up Chef Roberts’ thumb.

Hey, so sorry to bother you again! So Chef Roberts was pulling really hard, and it seems like he yanked his finger right clean off. Yeah, like bone and all. No, yeah, it was pretty gruesome. Blood was everywhere. So we’re out of tuna again, but not to worry! Johnny just went back out to try to snag some more. Your order should be out in a jiffy!

Hey! It’s me, butting in again, whoops! So Johnny got the tuna and he was headed back here with it, but he got in a little accident. What kind of accident? Oh, it seems like Johnny couldn’t see much in the downpour, and he ended up driving straight into a steamroller. Yeah, unfortunately it was moving, and it did roll him over and make a loud crunch sound. No, yeah, he didn’t make it, but he was conscious in the hospital through hours of pain before we finally lost him. Gosh, your sandwich was so close to being ready!

Sorry for interrupting! So, we were about to put in a new order for a fresh batch of tuna, but we just got a call from Johnny’s parents. Yeah, they weren’t too happy that we sent him out in those conditions, and they’re suing the restaurant. So, we rescinded our tuna order to divert the money towards legal fees. No, don’t worry about it! Don’t switch to turkey, your melt is still coming!

Hello, so sorry! I guess I should keep you posted on the legal saga, because you’re in as deep as I am! Ha-ha, just kidding, mostly. But don’t worry, we’re going to plant a couple of narcotics at the scene and give some false testimony to suggest he was driving under the influence. I just thought I’d tell you since it is your sandwich, after all.

Great news! We totally turned the case around and even got a massive defamation settlement from Johnny’s family for bringing the suit in the first place! Here’s a check for you from the settlement, pardon my reach. I know you said you didn’t want to testify, but we did attribute a quote to you to really sell the whole thing. Thanks for helping us out! His reputation with his family is ruined. God, you should’ve seen how his wife cried when they read the verdict!

Oh, and by the way, so sorry about this, there’s just been a slight delay with your sandwich. We’re out of sourdough. Would wheat be okay?

It all came to a head when you were making breakfast for dinner last night, which, by the way, is such a creative idea to liven up a Thursday evening. As usual, I hid out behind your shed until dusk. I came over to the window when I saw the kitchen light turn on and heard the Mumford & Sons playlist that you only listen to when you’re alone, even though there’s no shame in stomp, clap, hey. Things were going well until you used a metal fork to scramble the eggs… on a nonstick skillet. Ugh! I couldn’t believe the recklessness of it. Who does something like that?

Our evenings together are usually the most relaxing part of my day. You, winding down with a glass of vino, and me, crouching in the arbor vitae. This was the first time I felt like I was witnessing something I shouldn’t be seeing. Watching you scrape up that chemical coating was disturbing. You’re mainlining carcinogens into your bloodstream—you know that, right?

In the moment, I was so worried that I almost snapped a bird’s neck and threw it against the sliding glass door. That’s how I got your attention the last time you put hot food into a plastic takeout container. Which reminds me, you really need to buy glass Tupperware. It’s not expensive and it’s so worth it. Maybe I’ll gift you a couple pieces from my set. I can leave them in a cardboard box marked “FREE” next door. We both know that you always stop to look in those. Personally, I find it a bit gross.

And don’t get me started on the plastic cutting board! With all those PFAs and microplastics, your balls are probably full of credit cards by now. It’s definitely time for you to replace it. I remember when you bought that thing three years, two months, and nine days ago. We went to Target, and I watched you from the next aisle and stood two people behind you in line. Time flies! But back to your cutting board: do me a favor and go with bamboo next time.

I have to say, you make your fair share of questionable decisions. For example, not padlocking the exterior entrance to your crawl space. Though, even if you did, it would just give me an excuse to break my bolt cutters out of cold storage. Of course, I would have to replace it with my own lock with the same make and model, but that’s what Amazon is for.

Also, can we talk about your sheets? I noticed that you swapped the old ones out for a set of polyester atrocities. Don’t they feel weirdly slick to you? I know I was slipping around last night—it felt like I was going to slide right off the bed! Did you even check the blend percentage? It had to be like 70% rayon. Please, just go back to the cotton pair. I didn’t mind that they were getting a bit threadbare. That made them feel even more comfortable, to me anyway.

All this to say, some of this stuff can actually be dangerous. I would appreciate it if you would start taking better care of yourself. I do what I can, but I don’t want to overstep your boundaries. That’s why I wrote this letter using words cut out of magazines and not in my own blood. But hey, that’s just who I am. I’m always looking out for you.

ATTENTION: Greenwood Municipal Cemetery Staff

Due to a clerical error, the Paranormal Society’s annual cemetery tour has been double booked with the interment of Dr. Felix Burnside. To properly honor our commitment to both parties, please give special attention to the details of the day’s agenda.

9:00-9:45 A.M.: Guest Arrival

Funeral guests will be in mourning garb, as will most of the paranormal experience attendees, so you will need to confirm the purpose of the visit.

Direct funeral guests for Dr. Burnside to follow the sound of the cellist playing “Ave Maria” to the green graveside awning.

Direct ghost tour attendees to follow the sound of The Exoricst theme to the 18-foot inflatable coffin.

10:00 A.M.: Invocation / Gravedigger Zipline

Distribute funeral programs and prepare the outdoor pulpit for Pastor Brugan to begin the ceremony. The funeral programs are the ones without the inverted crosses on the cover.

Distribute EMF detectors, thermal cameras, and barometers to the paranormal group while waiting for the tour guide, Buck the Gravedigger, to arrive via zipline carrying a grocery bag of silicone hands.

10:15 A.M.: Scripture Reading / The Decapitation of Steam Engine Marty

Escort the deceased’s sister, Margaret Burnside, to the pulpit for a reading from Ecclesiastes 3:1–8.

Stay close to the paranormal group during the story of Steam Engine Marty’s accidental beheading. When Buck delivers the line, “The boiler burst and launched a jagged piece of iron into his neck,” fire off the black powder mortar and roll out a fake severed head. As a sign of respect to our other guests, be sure to choose the head that looks the least like Dr. Burnside.

11:15 A.M.: Eulogy / Paranormal Investigation

Unseasonable prevailing winds mean you will need to call on volunteers to help clear the smoke from the mortar cannon before the widow eulogizes Dr. Burnside.

While the smoke clears, the group will arrive at the final stop on the tour, the Burnside Family plot. Focus on the eulogy and at the first moment of weeping, give the signal to Buck to tell the ghost experience attendees to grab their EMF detectors because he just saw a full-bodied apparition!

11:30 A.M.: Potato Bar

QUICKLY! Release the doves for the Burnside family! While all are distracted by specter and fowl, prepare the dining pavilion and, as a surprise token of our apologies, offer all of today’s guests a complimentary potato bar.