The Only Podcast Left - Daybreak

You Should Try MeUndies

Episode Summary

This episode occurs after the events of the TV show's episode 7. We deal with the fallout of the on-air love sesh. Wesley Fists of Fury helps shed some light on the love triangle. We do a spotlight on the LARP Lords. And then we discover a terrible tragedy.

Episode Notes

This episode occurs after the events of the TV show's episode 7.

We deal with the fallout of the on-air love sesh. Wesley Fists of Fury helps shed some light on the love triangle. We do a spotlight on the LARP Lords. And then we discover a terrible tragedy.

Creative Team:
Executive Producer/Head Writer - Aron Coleite
Senior Writer - Carly Woodworth
Writers - Eugene Ramos, Gabriel Ho
Executive Producers - Rae Votta (Netflix), Cole Galvin (Netflix), Jonathan Hirsch (Neon Hum)
Senior Producer - Gabrielle Lewis (Neon Hum)
Director - Corey Lubowich
Sound Design & Mix - Dan Dzula
Music Supervision - David Steinberg
Associate Producer - Kara Kornhaber

Cast:
Harvard - Tessa Netting
MIT - Kimia Behpoornia
Gap Year - Jared Goldstein
USC - Kyle Sherman
Brandon Rivers - Ian Gary

Featuring Austin Crute as Wesley Fists

Episode Transcription

HARVARD: This is “The Only Podcast Left.” I’m your host, Harvard. So today I would like to talk about something that has been on my mind a lot. Something that has probably been on a lot of people's minds since the bombs dropped. The "do-over." So one time, in 10th grade, I took an exam on the American Civil War and got a B+. I know what you're thinking. B+? Disgraceful. But there were a lot of extenuating circumstances during the test-taking period, so I knew I deserved a do-over. But Mr. Fisk wouldn’t budge. I explained to him that during the exam I had to go to the bathroom, because I was drinking the recommended 8 glasses of water and I have a tiny bladder. It took 5 minutes to walk across the hall, into the bathroom, pull down my pants, sit on the toilet, and relieve myself. I probably could've made up lost time if everything went to plan. But the stall was out of toilet paper. I looked at the next stall over but there was none in there either and there was no time to drip dry. So you know what I did? I used my sock. My fucking sock. It was one of those thin ankle socks, too, so I could totally feel the pee through my fingers when I wiped. That's how much this exam meant to me. So by the time I got back to the classroom, 10 minutes had elapsed. That's how I missed two questions and why I got a B +. After 5 days of arguing my case, Mr. Fisk allowed a retest and I got my grade up from a B+ to an A-. Most of us don't get a do-over like I did in 10th grade. Most of us are left wallowing in our self-inflicted misery over one single choice. I need to apologize, listeners. For the choice that I made at the end of the last episode. It was a huge mistake. I violated the number one rule of podcasting: never hook up with your co-host . And the number two rule: If you do hook up with your co-host, make sure the mics are off. I know you're disappointed in me, listeners. But I'm going to do everything I can to gain your trust back. So I beg you, please give me a chance. It will never, ever happen again. Today, we have a great show for you guys. I’m here with USC, MIT, our Producer Mark and our field correspondent Gap-Year. We’ve got a brand new tribe for our Spotlight. We might even get an actual celebrity Ghoulie. And a secret guest is joining us for The Rehash. MIT, you're going to squee when you see who it is. 

MIT: I'm a confetti blast on fire.

HARVARD: Sarcasm is an odd color on you. 

MIT: This show is getting too sexual.

USC: When did you get all puritan?

MIT: I'm American. I'm inured to violence, but sexual relations makes me cringe.

HARVARD: Oh, it was just first base.

USC: Uhhhh. It was at least a triple.

HARVARD: A single with an error.

USC: Let’s call it what it was, recreational spelunking.

HARVARD: It was moderate lip Pilates. 

MIT: It was porn. Everyone heard what happened.

HARVARD: Because you posted it.

MIT: Wasn't me.

HARVARD: USC?

USC: I don't spelunk and tell.

HARVARD: Producer Mark? But...? Why?

MIT: Mark said it was because our listeners wanted more drama.

HARVARD: Well, it'll never happen again.

USC: Yeah. Sorry, guys. We'll double-check the mics are dead before stuffing muffins.

HARVARD: No. No. It will never ever, never ever, never never ever ever, never never, ever never ever never ever never ever ever happen again.

USC: That was an octuple negative. That means it is def happening again. 

HARVARD: No. No. You don’t understand. We are never going to do that again. It was a mistake.

USC: Putting our hook up in the podcast. That was a mistake. But our connection is real. 

HARVARD: It was a one time fling.

USC: And the second time?

HARVARD: N- no. The second time happened, because I felt sorry for you.

USC: And the third time?

HARVARD: The third time happened because I -- I felt sorry for me.

USC: And the fourth time?

HARVARD: That wasn’t fair. You seduced me by telling me Barack Obama was a guest on Marc Maron's WTF podcast and his Nobel Peace Prize winning tush actually sat on the sofa in the garage. And you know I have a crush on President Obama. I mean, if I saw Ghoulie Obama, I would, without a doubt, let him eat me.

HARVARD: Fine. USC and I hooked up a few times this week.  

USC: Eight.

HARVARD: Five.

USC: Eight.

HARVARD: Maximum six.

USC: Why do you -- it was eight times!

HARVARD: It was not eight times! 

USC: Are you not counting the dog crate? I thought that meant something.

HARVARD: We hooked up eight times, but that's all done with now. Over.

MIT: I can’t believe you... and with -- and him and… eight times!!!! I thought… I’m-- 

HARVARD: Where is she going?

USC: To get away from you. Which is where I’m going too.

HARVARD: Oh, come on, USC. You’re leaving, too? Hey -- Guys? Come back...I can't do the show without you. Not cool. We have a special guest coming. You’re totally gonna miss him. Guys? Mark, edit this bit out. This isn't drama, it's just sad. Our reputation will be tainted.

GAP-YEAR: Haa. Taint.

HARVARD: Gap-Year? Seriously? The show is falling apart. Our TRIBE is in pieces. I don't know if we'll ever get back together. And if we can't… where -- where does that leave us? Tribe-less. Show-less. And all you can think about is the urban dictionary definition of taint?

GAP-YEAR: Hee hee.

HARVARD: Come on. Fuck you.

GAP-YEAR: Things'll get better.

HARVARD: You don't know that.

GAP-YEAR: Look, you created something really cool. And we all need each other too much to just like walk away from that. USC and MIT, they know that. And they’re gonna come back. I promise. Just wait.

HARVARD: I--I just wanted to make something good and important together.

GAP-YEAR: I'm going to find you a real celebrity Ghoulie.

HARVARD: Wait… Like, a real celebrity Ghoulie?

GAP-YEAR: A really real celebrity Ghoulie.

HARVARD: No more high school janitors?

GAP-YEAR: Heck to the negative.

HARVARD: Not Jay Leno?

GAP-YEAR: Never Jay Leno.

HARVARD: And not Jimmy Fallon.

GAP-YEAR: Wouldn't dare.

HARVARD: ...That means a lot. Thank you. I know getting a non-Jay Leno, non-Jimmy Fallon Ghoulie won't solve our problems. But hey, it's a start. From here on out I won't let our personal drama interfere with the show. Pure entertainment. Normal segments. And USC and MIT will come back. I promise. I hope. Until then, time for the Rehash. This week we have a really special guest on The Rehash. This former football star of Glendale High has transformed himself into a righteous ronin-- righting the wrongs of his past -- the dopest of dope smokers, and a ninja DJ who was only just recently exiled from the mall by his best friend, Josh. Joining us in studio is the samurai himself... Wesley Fists of Fury. 

WESLEY: Damn, girl. You're just like my Aunt Roberta at Sunday supper picking the Caesar salad from her teeth talking all the dish. How do you know so much about so much?

HARVARD: Well. Ya know. We have skills.

WESLEY: And you're making a podcast?

HARVARD: It's the only thing I'm good at.

WESLEY: Dig.

HARVARD: Gratitude.

WESLEY: Respect.

HARVARD: Clap back.

WESLEY: Hold up. I know you, right?

HARVARD: Uhh… I don't think so.

WESLEY: Melanie.

HARVARD: Melissa.

WESLEY: We were in Spanish together.

HARVARD: No, I took French.

WESLEY: You were in Into The Woods.

HARVARD: That's Jennifer Appel.

WESLEY: You were sophomore VP.

HARVARD: No, that's Dana Rappaport.

WESLEY: You were the social justice activist.

HARVARD: Yes, yeah, that was me.

WESLEY: The one who got the cafeteria to stop using straws.

HARVARD: No. That was also Dana Rappaport.

WESLEY: You're in the A.V. Club.

HARVARD: Yeah -- yeah, I told you that.

WESLEY: I thought I knew you.

HARVARD: I get that a lot. Jewish girl from the valley. The manufacturer made a lot of models that look like me.

WESLEY: I didn't know we had an A.V. Club.

HARVARD: Yeah -- you and Hoyles used to call us, "The Asexual Virgins Club."

WESLEY: That was you?

HARVARD: Yeah… yeah. That was me.

WESLEY: You weren't asexual virgins?

HARVARD: Who would want to be an asexual virgin?

WESLEY: There was a club for pan-sexual-non-binary-seahorse-waffle-eaters.  

HARVARD: Yes, yes. You are right and I was in that club with Todd Altman. So.

WESLEY: See? I knew I knew you, Melanie.

HARVARD: Melissa. But call me Harvard. CEO and creative force of the A.V. Club.

WESLEY: Wait. So what does A.V. stand for...?

HARVARD: Audio...visual.

WESLEY: Weren't there more of you?

HARVARD: Everyone else is... just… they’re some...where…

WESLEY: So look. I know I may've crushed some spirits like a red Solo cup at a kegger. But I'm different now. I see you. You've got a gravity blanket weighing down your soul. And maybe I can help you... You wanna spill some tea with me?

HARVARD: I assume spilling tea is a cultural reference that a Jew from the valley should probably not appropriate but since you brought it up... no. I don't wanna spill my tea, I wanna spill yours. Josh just exiled you from the mall. Seems extreme.

WESLEY: Stings some.

HARVARD: Preach.

WESLEY: I'd be blitzing if someone did what I did to Josh. I understand. I lied to him. I told him the love of his life was dead. You can't have any friendship if there's no trust.

HARVARD: So then, why'd you lie?

WESLEY: I don’t know.

HARVARD: Did you wanna tell Josh the truth?

WESLEY: All the time.

HARVARD: Then why didn't you?

WESLEY: We're all emotionally shades of yellow. No one digs confrontation. Especially when we know we've done wrong. Even when we're honest, we're not honest honest. There's no such thing as truth. Not truth truth -- only how the soul sees it. Are you crying, Harvard?

HARVARD: I'm fine. Is there something you wanna say to Josh now? He might download the show. 

WESLEY: I mean, he won't.

HARVARD: But he might.

WESLEY: Do you have subscribers?

HARVARD: Some.

WESLEY: But not a lot.

HARVARD: Look. We're getting more every day. And it's forever. So, maybe when we go viral, Josh will listen and he'll hear you and you can say something that will make him want to take you back. Something important.

WESLEY: You need some tissues, girl?

HARVARD: I'm not crying.

WESLEY: You're not chopping onions.

HARVARD: I'm fine. Listeners don't wanna hear my drama.

WESLEY: The audience can smell fronting.

HARVARD: So -- what? I should just open my personal baggage for everyone to see like a handsy TSA screener?

WESLEY: A sage once said, "I've always been about honesty. Whether on my show, whether I did a movie, whether I wrote a book. As long as you're honest, you don't lose your edge."

HARVARD: Oprah?

WESLEY: Howard Stern.

HARVARD: I hate him.

WESLEY: Me too.

HARVARD: But he had an audience.

WESLEY: He had an empire.

HARVARD: I...

WESLEY: Yo. Producer Mark? Can you help us out? I need a vibe -- we need a vibe.

HARVARD: Okay. Umm. Fuck. Uhh. Alright. Here’s the truth. I slept with USC. Okay? I was lonely and he's a pretty good kisser. And he's short. So when I lean my head down I can rest it on his head. Which, you know, is kind of sweet. But it's not forever, okay? It's just for now. And for some reason it pissed off MIT, which pissed me off, because I don't know why she's so mad at USC.

WESLEY: Seriously?

HARVARD: Clueless.

WESLEY: Three kids, working together, living together, in a confined space, that's the recipe for a love triangle.

HARVARD: You're wrong.

WESLEY: Yeah?

HARVARD: MIT is gay.

WESLEY: Yeah.

HARVARD: So she isn't crushing on USC.

WESLEY: Yeah.

HARVARD: And USC isn't crushing on MIT.

WESLEY: Yeah.

HARVARD: So there's no triangle, dum-dum.

WESLEY: Yeah?

HARVARD: Unless.

WESLEY: Yeah.

HARVARD: No.

WESLEY: Yeah.

HARVARD: Uuhhhh...

WESLEY: Yeah.

HARVARD: MIT loves me?

WESLEY: Yeah.

HARVARD: Yeah?

WESLEY: Do you love her?

HARVARD: She's my best friend.

WESLEY: You need to talk to her.

HARVARD: I'd rather avoid this forever and ever until we forget that it happened.

WESLEY: But that's not how it works. S'like I said. We're cowards. We don't speak our hurt. Naw. We hang onto our hurt. We let it knot us up until we explode. I did it with Josh and I got exiled. I did it with Turbo and he threatened to kill Josh and all the kids in the mall. All because I was a coward... well... not anymore… I have to confront Turbo. It's the only way. Because if we don't… we'll just be asexual virgins. You know. Which you can be if you want. No judgment. But I'm guessing you don't. No one wants to be exiled. No one wants to be alone. Right? 

HARVARD: So... Wesley's gone and USC and MIT still aren't back. Neither is Gap-Year... I can't really do the show without them... so maybe I should do another sponsor. Okay. Uh, well… one thing that's really important in the apocalypse... undies. Specifically, MeUndies. Maybe in the pre-apocalypse you weren't someone who people considered traditionally attractive, maybe someone once compared your forehead to a knobby nightshade on instagram and after that your prospects for smashing face were less than nil. But now that the world is over, you find yourself suddenly as the object of desire, and an actual human being is trying to get into your underwear, so yeah, you go for it, and you want look your best, so yeah you sleep with the guy, and then you try to move on, but he gets clingy and so you think, sure, maybe a casual relationship might be something you can pull off, but you still know it’s a bad idea, and again, it's not like you have a lot of experience with this, so you fuck him again, a couple times, maybe eight times, but then your other friend starts acting all weird, and then Wesley helps you realize it’s because she’s into you, and you think, shit, was I giving off the wrong vibes? I mean. Listen. I am a pan-sexual-non-binary seahorse who enjoys the occasional waffle, but still, I don’t think I was putting out the vibe that I wanted anything more than friendship. Seriously, all I want to do is do my show and not get caught up in a love triangle. That’s it. Not at all. No love triangles. If you're like that, you should try MeUndies.

USC: Hey.

HARVARD: USC. 

MIT: Hi. 

HARVARD: MIT. You came back.

MIT: We're back.

HARVARD: Did you hear what I said?

USC: All of it.

HARVARD: All of all of it?

MIT: I have to tell you something.

HARVARD: Let's wait until after the show.

MIT: No. I'm done waiting. I've been wanting to say this for a long time. I... I love you, Melissa. Please say something...

HARVARD: Let's start the next segment.

USC: That's all you have to say?

HARVARD: I don't want to talk about it. God damn it, Mark, I don’t give two shits about what makes for good drama, okay? I don't wanna talk about it!

USC: How are we going to be a tribe if we can’t get past this?

MIT: Harvard?

USC: Melissa.

MIT: You know how we both feel.

USC: Yeah, you’ve gotta choose.

MIT: Who do you want to be with?

HARVARD: I think... I think it's time for the Tribe Spotlight. Hit it, Mark. Today we're joined by Brandon Rivers. So. Brandon. What is the name of your tribe? 

BRANDON: We are known to you as -- The LARP Lords.

HARVARD: You can't see Brandon, but he is dressed in an extremely convincing Transformer costume.

BRANDON: Correction. This isn't a costume. We do not COSPLAY. We are LARP. Live Action Role Playing. When Brandon is suited up, he is no longer Brandon "the mathlete with a serious acne problem because he has a compulsive face-touching disorder and no matter how many times he listened to the guided self-mediation on Headspace he couldn't stop his anxious behavior and the zits got so gross that he started wearing masks to hide his face" Rivers.

HARVARD: That sounds awful, Brandon.

BRANDON: NO! In this suit, there is no Brandon. There is only OPTIMUS PRIME -- uhh -- OPTIMUS PRIME.

HARVARD: My apologies, Optimus.

BRANDON: Prime.

HARVARD: Sorry. Prime.

BRANDON: No. My designate is Optimus Prime.

HARVARD: I understand.

BRANDON: Not Prime.

HARVARD: Got it.

BRANDON: Optimus Prime. Guardian of the All Spark and Defender of Cybertron.

USC: You really think you're Optimus. 

BRANDON: Guys. Seriously. It ruins the whole thing if you don't use my full name.

HARVARD: So you're the Optimus Prime? 

BRANDON: Not always. I began my life as a simple slave-bot named Orion Pax. I was a humble, average dock worker trying to save up my Q-britz to propose to my designated life-mate, Ariel. But then Megatron, a radical upstart, approached me about stealing shipments from the ominium cruisers that passed between Cybretron and Megadonium. I needed the Q-britz to propose to Ariel and agreed to work for Megatron. But Megatron betrayed me. He tried to kill me. I barely survived. Near death, I underwent a radical surgery to re-configure my cybernetics and emerged as … OPTIMUS PRIME -- the first of the Autobot warriors.

MIT: That. Is. So. ROMANTIC!

USC: Are you serious?

MIT: Tell me everything.

BRANDON: Well, Ariel was wounded in battle.

MIT: HOW?!?!

BRANDON: Defending me.

MIT: Tragic.

BRANDON: But then she was built anew as an Autobot named Elita One.

MIT: Oh, glimmer of hope.

BRANDON: But then the war separated us.

MIT: Double tragic.

BRANDON: One day, when Megatron has been rendered into molten steel and his disciples have been tossed on the scrap heap of time -- then, and only then, can we finally be together. On that day we will know what it means to love and be loved. On that day we will both cease to exist as our consciousnesses merge files and we become a singular entity and call ourselves Elitus. Elita One. If you're out there listening. I'm waiting for you.

USC: This is some delusional bullshit.

MIT: Shut your stupid face.

USC: He's a pretend robot.

BRANDON: Autobot.

MIT: This isn't entry level fanfic, okay? He has love in his heart.

USC: He's wearing a mask because his face looks a fried strawberry crepe.

MIT: The saga of Optimus Prime is poetry.

USC: You have no concept of story. 

MIT: Okay, well, I got 57 likes on my slashfic story about Groot and The Trash Heap from Fraggle Rock meeting at a landscape design convention and then, together, Groot and Heap made a verdant forest in the desert.

BRANDON: Optimus Prime is amazed.

MIT: The trees are their children.

USC: Uh, we get it. It's trash. Literal trash. It sucks.

MIT: Oh, like you could do better.

USC: If Optimus loved Elita...

BRANDON: Optimus Prime, guys.

USC: If he loved her, he'd be with her.

MIT: They're in a war.

USC: Then he fights to be at her side. Because being without the person that you love is too painful. Right, Harvard?

BRANDON: Maybe it's better if I go? Optimus Prime suddenly feels uncomfortable.

HARVARD: Oh, yeah. Sure. So... thanks for this.

BRANDON: Can I give you guys some advice before I catch the shuttle to Cybertron?

HARVARD: TBH? You're the last person who should give advice, Brandon.  

USC: Yeah, I’m not taking advice from a guy in a mask.

BRANDON: Okay. You know what? Fuck you! Seriously. Okay, why don't you go through your parents' mail. Find the 20% coupon to Bed, Bath and Beyond. Go to the one in Studio City, because the one in Burbank has no parking and you can't tell where the entrance is. Go inside. Ignore the spatulas and meat thermometers. Get a personal massager. Find the D batteries in the checkout aisle. Put them inside. And then you can go fuck yourself. I mean. I felt sorry for you. I came all this way. I came from Toluca Lake. I narrowly avoided a horde of Ghoulies and had to sidestep a fucking business meeting for mutant squirrels. Not to mention I dodged Cheermazon territory and 4-H land. In character. And you treat me like I'm tragic drunk Batman posing for tourists in Hollywood! Fuck you! You know you’re LARPers, too, right? The three of you play at being podcasters. You have no idea what you're doing. You're aping the good, original shit other people did and pretending it's your own. That is the definition of live-action-role-playing. Being something you're not. K? You're not funny. You're not original. And the only reason anybody downloads your cast is because it's like watching a car crash into a truck filled with chickens and the explosion sets the car on fire and the chickens are on fire and the terrible irony of the whole thing is the driver of the car was vegan and it's all happening in slow fucking motion while those chickens roast. That's you. That's your fucking show. That. A flaming chicken crash. 

HARVARD: Do-over.

USC: What?

HARVARD: Do-over.

MIT: I can't hear her.

HARVARD: Do-over!

USC: Mark, can you stop the music real quick?

HARVARD: I'm calling a do-over.

USC: It doesn't work like that.

HARVARD: I'm the boss. I'm the creative force driving this show. And I say... Do-over. Do-it-all-over. We trash this episode and start fresh tomorrow. No one needs to hear this dreck.

USC: I thought we were actually doing something meaningful. Personal.

HARVARD: Too personal.

MIT: These are our feelings.

HARVARD: Well, stop leaving them on the floor where they're just gonna get stepped on, okay? Pick up your feelings, fold them, and put them in a drawer which you won't ever open again. This isn’t that kind of show. This isn’t a talk about your feelings and air all of your emotional baggage like Nanette. This is a cultural podcast about the Armageddon. Irreverent. Witty. Informative. This isn't about our problems. It’s about everyone else’s problems. The role of a host is to be funny, yet empathic. To have the audience believe that you are their friend, but really you couldn’t give a shit about them. Like Oprah. Or Ellen. Or Judge Judy. But not Fallon. Anyone but Fallon. No more personal business. No more love triangles. No more fights. No more... we're just going to sit here until Gap-Year gets back. We'll record his Celebrity Ghoulie segment and then we'll do it all over. He'll be right back.

USC: He's been gone awhile.

MIT: I mean, longer than usual actually. Yeah.

HARVARD: He can take care of himself.

MIT: Maybe we should check the cameras? See if we can find him.

HARVARD: He probably took some shrooms and got lost. 

MIT: Okay, I don't see him on Central.

USC: Yeah, nothing on Brand.

HARVARD: Maybe check Division Street?

MIT: Okay, sure.

HARVARD: He can't be nowhere.

USC: Nothing…

HARVARD: Yeah, he has to be somewhere just keep looking. 

MIT: Look. That’s gap year right there.

HARVARD: This is obviously a prank.

USC: No, I think that.

HARVARD: Guys, this is Gap-Year, we’re talking about.

USC: Wait no, I don’t believe this at all.

HARVARD: That’s not him.

MIT: No --

HARVARD: It’s a joke!

MIT: Harvard, it’s not a prank.

USC: That’s what he was wearing when he left.

MIT: Look, it’s Gap-Year, he’s on the floor.

USC: It is… Is there blood? … 

MIT: What?

USC: Oh my god.

HARVARD: No, no, no.

MIT: Harvard, look at me!

HARVARD: Oh, my fucking God! 

MIT: Look.

HARVARD: No, it can’t be. 

USC: No.

MIT:  Gap-Year was murdered.