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David Duchovny
Hi everyone, I'm David Duchovny. Join me on my podcast Fail Better, where we use failure as a lens to reflect on the past and analyze the current moment. I speak with makers and performers like Rob Lowe, Rosie O'Donnell and Kenya Barris, as well as thinkers like Kara Swisher and Nate Silver, to understand how both personal setbacks and larger forces impact our world. Listen to Fail Better wherever you get your podcasts. Lemonada this is Glenn Close. The Golgorath alliance is proud to present Hildy the Barback and the Lake of Fire. This presentation is brought to you by the of the mind Chapter 1 the Beginning Many ages ago there was a verdant green land named Golgorath. It was a land full of magic, legend and high adventure from time immemorial. The Tales of Golgorath featured heroes who were. How do I say this? They were all dudes. But in the year 361, in the waning years of the Uluru, a new hero found her voice. She was unparalleled in her sense of integrity and justice. She was also a barback. Her name was Hildy. My name is Hildy. I am a barback at a medieval pub with peasants galore and piss on the floor. But I long for something more. We are in peril from the evil one whose soul desires to turn my shire into a lake of fire. The men folks say they'll protect me but they would fuck up a cup of coffee. It's got to be me. I must set us all free. It's my destiny. My name is Hildy and I'm fortunate in the lake of Fire. My name is Hildy the Sparbuck. We begin our tale in the quiet village of Mirvale at the Shady Cockerel, a quaint pub that has been in Hildy's family for generations. Our hero, Hildy Hillsbury is visited by her friends Gerd, Perta and Mirabel. But Hildy is currently unable to enjoy their company as she's busy trying to settle an argument between two dim witted patrons of the pub. I says that the sky is light blue. I says the sky is sky blue. Chance please unclench your moist meat paws. You know good and well there's no fighting in the pub. Also, you can't say the word of what the color is when you say what it's describing. It's like saying the frog is frog green. This is Perta, a merchant, cunning and wise. Frogs are not green, they're olive no, they're teal. They're not teal. Mirabel, can't you put a spell of forgetfulness on them or something? Sorry, mate, that's a super hard spell to execute. I've been working on it, but every time I try, something really ominous happens. This is Mirabel, an eccentric alchemist and sorceress in training. Should I decimate these bags of fecal pooping with my warhammer? Hildy, my very best friend. This is Gerd, a half giant, powerful and loyal friend to Hildy. No, Gerd, no, you should not. Thank you, but I will handle this. Hey, half giant, I'm arguing with my friend here. You women folk have best be quiet. Enter here. Oh. Judging by your breath, gentlemen, which I don't actually mean, I still am quite confident that you do evacuate your bowels through your mouth. How dare you. Winch. Oh, there we go. Winch. That's the magic word. Anyone who says it gets a pie of meat. No foot massage. Handworth? No. Pony. Not today. But you do get a dick punch. You're gonna dick punch. Guess what? Cause I've got a special running today where you get a third dick punch. Oh, Gerd, would you mind taking out the trash? Yeah, I'll take them out like yesterday's bags of trash. Hearing the commotion, Hildy's brother Finnick rushes in from the back office. Finnick is slow and lazy and yet was given ownership of the bar upon their parents death instead of Hildy because, you know, patriarchy. So Hildy actually runs the bar while Finnick does whatever the hell it is that he does. Gerd, Gerd, unhand those fine men. They're paying customers. They've been banished. Fennec. They haven't paid their bill in months and they're fighting about colors again. I've given them each a multitude of warnings, so no or yes. I say they're not banished and I'm the owner of the shady cockerel. Okay. Indeed you are technically the owner of the Barfennick, because women cannot own taverns in this insane bullshit age. Right? Right. Yeah, that's what I just said. And if you say it again, you will no longer possess the penis that is currently ruining your undershorts. What? If you test me, brother, I will burn you until you're dead. And then I'm gonna bury you alive. L. D. Yeah, that doesn't make any sense. I think it does. Because first I'm gonna kill you by burning you. Then I'm gonna bring you back to life just so I can chop you up again. Little bitty mulch, throw you the animals, have the animals eat you. Then I'm gonna have the animals shit you back out. And then I'm gonna put a nice little rope around that area. And that's gonna be the shady cockroach. New restroom. Just don't let Janik the drunkard. I'm the only Yannick, only Janek. It's gonna be his personal place to do what he does. And you know what he can do to a chamber pot. Takes the finish off. Well, after a consult with my sister and as the proprietor of this establishment, they are banished. Gerd, throw them out. You got it, pheasant. You know my name is Fenne. Okay, that's done. I'm gonna go to my office now and. Nope, don't do the thing you do. Hey everybody, drinks are on me. Never a good idea. I explain it to you, then you get it and you forget you do it again. I want people to like me. I mean, maybe you should think about trying to work on your personality then. I don't want to do that. Gorlok. What is a Gorlok doing in my tavern? A Gorlok is a small humanoid creature, similar to a goblin, but with slightly better breath. Get behind me all, as I raise my warhammer. No, no, no, no, no, no, wait. Lower your mighty warhammer. Gerd. Unless my eyes deceive me, I may know this Gorlok. And lo, Hildy did in fact know this Gorlok. And upon looking more closely, she can decipher that he is bleeding from many arrows. I am bleeding from many arrows. Mirabel, is there a spell that can help him? No, Hildy. This poor creature is beyond my aid. Here, friend, have some potion for comfort. Yes, that tastes just terrible. Okay, so this one has got no healing qualities. It's just supposed to taste good. Well, it's awful. It's somehow bitter, yet cloyingly sweet. The finish is almost mind bogglingly terrifying. Thank you so much for that feedback. Mirabel, you gotta get a handle on your potions. As I die. Sweet. Hildy, do you remember when we'd play together as children in the sands? Sand. Yes, the sand. Yes, yes. I was just recalling we playing as children. Yes, Sandy sand, you were my best friend. Oh, my only friend. Oh, Jesus. Sure, yeah, that's that. You definitely remember that. Friend, I have come to warn you. The Morliths are coming. Oh, Morliths. This is not good. Morliths, by the by, are ruined. Creatures of pure evil. They're taller than men, with claws like iron and cold black eyes. They've served the dark masters of Golgorath since before the beginning. I scout these lands and I saw them. The Mauliths are at least a hundred strong. They seek the Dread Aegis. The Dread Aegis, Also known as the Armor of Doom. There are five separate pieces. The Helm of Magic, the Gauntlet of Might, the Boots of Destiny, the Sword of Power, and the Scabbard of Fate. After the elves, humans and good creatures of the ancient times banded together and defeated Gathlemore, the Evil one. Ow. It still hurts so much. They hid each of the five separate pieces of the Dread Ages in five different places, strewn far and wide across Golgorath, where they believed no one could find them. But now evil is rising. Someone. Someone wants to put the five pieces back together again and rule all. Hildy. I always thought that someday we'd be married. Oh, yes, yes. We both thought it so many times. I thought about that so many times. I did dream of that. I thought that too, a bunch of times. My dear friend, who I definitely, definitely remember from when we were children in the sand. Innocent playing on the sand. Before I die, let me hear you whisper my name. Ah, fuck. Do you not know his name? No. Do you? I know I don't know his name. He. Look up. Maybe a John or a. It could be a John. Could be a Luscious or Lucious. Okay, I thank you for the warning. Sleep. The sleep of the gallant sweet, sweet. Lucius. Thank you. Wait, who the fuck is Lucius? Oh, this is an ad by BetterHelp. Let's talk numbers. Traditional in person therapy can cost anywhere from 100 to $250 per session, and that adds up fast. But with BetterHelp online therapy, you can save up to 50% more per session and pay a flat fee for weekly sessions, making therapy more affordable and easier to fit into your life. Therapy should feel accessible, not like a luxury. BetterHelp connects you with licensed professionals who can help with everything from anxiety to everyday stress at a price that makes sense. 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Boneheads from Lemonada Media is out wherever you get your podcasts. Later that evening, in the center of town, the citizens of Mirvale hold a meeting with the Council of the seven village elders, who are all dudes, and much to Hildy's chagrin, her idiot brother Finnick is the leader of the council. Even though Morliths attack from time to time. As we all know, they have never attacked our village in numbers. Yet now 100 morliths are coming. For what reason, esteemed guests, we do not know. We do know they're seeking one of the pieces of the Dread Aegis. The Gorlok literally just told us that in great specific detail. Yeah, I didn't get all that. Gentlemen of the Council of the Elder 7, what say you? Wait, wait, listen. Why don't we just send Mirabel's raven out to see what they're actually up to? This way we can better plan our defenses. My Raven Wandreth is quite a fast flyer, and though she only speaks in songs, she is very efficient. I speak only in song. The day is long. How can this be wrong? Honestly, that bird creeps everyone out. Mirabel. It really does. Also, also, her songs barely have any rhymes. Have you ever heard of a rhyme scheme? Raven Aapa. What kind of rhyme would you like to daaay? Gentlemen. Irregardless of my respect unexpected sister statement, I believe that we need to march forth and meet these Morliths head on. Wait, wait. The Gorlok said there are a hundred Morlis headed towards us, and your solution is to take seven men and ride straight at them? Oh, Hildy, Hildy, Hildy. My simple, sweet younger sister, who I love with all of my heart. You just don't get it. Sometimes as a man, you need to put on some armor, Mount your horse, you don't and go into battle to kick some fucking ass. Men, please, please listen to me. Don't do this. We can make a better plan. At least you could take Gerd with you, she could defeat all seven of you in one battle. No way. I am strong indeed, but not stupid enough to go fight a hundred, more or less, with these soon to be dead idiots. Listen, I know we've had our differences. And I know that recently I may have threatened to kill you repeatedly. Well, you deserved it. But you're also my brother and I do love you. And if anyone's gonna kill you, it should be me. So I'm asking you, please don't go. I must. We will return in victory. And then free drinks of the shady cockerel for everyone. Forever. Men 2 Battle Fennec leads the charge of the seven brave fools as they gallop up the hillside. If only they had heeded Hildy's warning, perhaps Mirabel's raven wandereth would have seen that the Morliths were not alone as they charged westward towards Merevale. No, they were led by a mighty Ur dragon, far from its home in Shah Adu. It is a size of 30 horses with mighty wings, razor talons and a breath of flame. The dragon sits on his rocky throne on the mountaintop. In quiet repose, he gazes out into the night at his earthly realm, his eyes aglow. And you bravely climb the rock face with your sword of iron and your armor gleaming to bravely face the beast. All the townsfolk look up from below and say, are you fucking stupid? Why would you ever fuck with a dragon? You can't wish having more on. Have you never read a storybook? I'd like. It's a secret. First he's gonna bathe you in hot fire and then he's gonna swallow and he's gonna shit you into a volcano. All of this could have been avoided. But you were the fool who thought he could fuck with a dragon. You are the fool who thought he could fuck with a dragon. Stupid, stupid asshole. Do you ever get hit with a cringy memory of your 13 year old self out of nowhere and suddenly you're panic, sweating and laughing at the same time? Don't, don't worry, don't worry. We all get that. It's because being an adolescent is one of the most visceral, shared experiences we have as people. And we want to talk about it. Join me, Penn Badgley, and my two friends Nava and Sophie on Podcrust as we interview celebrity guests about the joys and horrors of being a teenager and how those moments made them who they are today. New episodes of podcrust are out now, wherever you get your podcasts. Hey, I'm Reshma Sajani, founder of Girls who Code and Moms First. I consider myself a pretty successful adult woman. So why is it that in midlife, as I'm about to turn 50, I feel so stuck? Join me as I try to find the answer on my so called midlife from Lemonada Media. I talk to experts and extraordinary guests about divorce, exercise, menopause, sex, drugs, and more to understand what we're going through and how to make the most of it. Listen wherever you get your podcasts. The dragon blows her mighty breath of flame, and the men from Mirville are instantly incinerated. Oh, no. Fennec. My brother. My older brother is dead. In the distance, we hear the sound of 100 Morlith soldiers as they crest the hillside. A sound that would chill anyone to the bone. Hey, everyone, get back to the Shady Cockerel. We'll bar the doors. Mirabel, stop at your house and bring the forbidden potions. I'm not so sure about that, Hildy. My potion abilities are not yet mastered. That's exactly what I'm counting on. During the absence, absolute worst potions you can find. We'll need everything you have if you want to stay alive. Okay, I get you, mate. Look, I'll be there in a jiffy. Into the cockerel. Put the kids and caregivers into the back room. No pushing or shoving, please. Can you please help me brace the door? Hildy, my very best friend. I see so many Moreless marching in such an evil manner. A large Morliff. The leader named Morlar the Strong leads the charge. Leave none of them alive. We shall drink their deliciously yummy blood. Hildy, they're closed. Now what do we do first, best friend? First thing we're gonna do is we're gonna pray to Balthazar with our left hand, and then we're gonna kick a little ass with our right. Ooh, that's quite cool, bae. Best friend. That sounded really cool. Thank you. I felt good about it. I say let them come for us. They'll find that the women of this village have sharper teeth than the men. No offense to the men present, but we do need you to fight too. But you're, you know, you're not great usually. Look, there upon the bar. There are swords and shields for everyone. Not you. You know who I'm talking to. Nicholas. Hunt it down. Awesome. There were only 25 townspeople in the Cockerel who were fit to draw weapons. Not enough. The Moraliths enter the Shady Cockerel. Morlar the strong is in the lead, he looks disgustedly at the townfolk, led by Hildy and her friends. This will be easier than I thought. Just a bunch of women and a couple of really petite. Give the word, Captain. I want to drink blood. You know what we're here for. Urgral the Horned one seeks it. Give me what I seek and I shall kill you quickly. I can't say I love that. Deal more Liths. You may attack when ready. And drink the blood of numerous babies. Hildy looks at Morlar, the strongest. She wonders what is he staring at? Behind the bar, Gerd is attacked and swarmed by Morlith. Warhammer. Warhammer? Why do you say Warhammer while you kill them? Well, friend, my mom used to say it when she would kill enemies with her Warhammer families. Am I right, Hildy? Mal wields a sword in both hands. She stabs and dodges the ever growing crowd of Morliths. Yet she notices that Morlar the strong still isn't engaged in the fight. What's he doing? He's looking at that old scabbard we had hanging back there behind the bar forever. What's that scabbard again, best friend? The sheath with a sword. Purta, I need your speed. Don't let him grab it. Perta gracefully leaps towards the scabbard, grabbing it, sucking before Morlar the straw, and clutch it in his huge ugly hands. Healthy catch. Got her. You stole what is mine. Now you die. Not today, because I'm really, really fast. Perta jumps away seconds before Morlar's mighty mace can smash her head. Warhammer, Gerd, on your left. Gerd looks to her left, and there are just two many moreless to fight at once. Oh no. Gerd, thinking she has just been given a death blow, sees that what she thought was a Morlith landing a strike to her mighty chest was really Perta underneath a Morlith. And she's just sunk a dagger into his unholy scrotum. Okay, you are now my second best friend. Hell yes. The one with the hammer is strong, my lord. Warhammer. Warhammer. Second wave. As the rest of the Morlas heed the call for the second wave to enter the shady cockerel, they are met by a curious sight in the street outside the tavern. What is that? It's a warbun. What's that on its face? It's a gas mask, mate. Mirabel steadies herself, then closes the door to the cockerel. Kill her. It's funny really, because I was trying to create A natural facial cleanser. And what I created by accident is actually the deadliest potion known to womankind. And as much as I hate to kill so many of anything, well, you're all unspeakably evil. So bye bye, mates. Mirabel smashes the crystals to the ground, releasing the dreadful poison into the air. Keep that door closed inside. This is seriously wicked stuff. And also, it's a really horrible exfoliator. Morlar the Strong, face me. Oh, I shall. I have the wonderful good fortune to end your life today. And Urgral the Horned One shall reassemble the pieces of the Dread Ages. And all Golgoroth shall bend to his will. Morlar. Our battle will live on in legend. The bards will sing of this clash. Warhammer Gurd strikes a mighty blow upon Morlar the Strong, smashing his head into a million pieces. Ah. Gerd. I was gonna kill him. I had like, a whole plan. Upon seeing their fierce leader killed, the rest of the Morlifs flee like rats. We've won. We won the battle. Um. Ow. Wait, what? What happened? Uh, Morlar stabbed me a little bit. Mirabel, get in here. I can't. The air outside is still poison. Luckily, you're inside with the door closed, so no poison can reach you as it dissipates into the Golgorathian atmosphere. Kurt. You're gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay. Pertinent. Grab the cloth off the bar. No, not that one. Plea. The clean one. Am I dying, very best friend? Am I dying, very best friend? Let me look, let me look. Oh, thank the gods. No, you're gonna have quite a scar, but you'll live. Especially if Mirabel can give you a potion that's worth a shit. I'm going to come inside in 10. 9, 8. This doesn't seem like science. You're just randomly counting down from 10, saying it's safe. 3, 2, 1. And you skipped four numbers. Here I come. Mirabel rushes into the tavern. Good. Oh, my sweet good. Just a second, mate. Let me give you some potion. I should tell you, Mirabel, that I've always loved you. My second or now third best friend. But I wish you were my first best girlfriend. Oh, well, that's lovely. Okay, confession time. I've always hoped that you'd fancied me, but you're not going to die. Okay? Here, drink this. Wait, wait, wait a minute. Wait. Are you sure that that's the right potion? Of course I am. Oh, wait. Oh, actually, no, no, don't drink that. Do not drink that. Damn it. Maribel always double check. We've been through this. Please. Oh my gosh. Yeah, you're right. I know. I'm so glad that you said something, Hildy. She would have been a goner for sure if she'd drunk that. And then I'd be out of a new girlfriend. This one is the right one. Gerd takes a sip of potion and it tastes slightly less horrific than Mirabel's usual potions. You are so brave. Let me kiss your cheek. Mirabel does kiss Gerd's cheek. And whether it is because the potion actually has healing powers, or perhaps the kiss from a new girlfriend, color flushes back to her mighty cheeks. Wow. If I hadn't been so recently stabbed, I would call this day perfect. Thank goodness. It looks like you're gonna be ok. I have to be honest, I don't think I could handle any more surprises today. With that, Footsteps approach them hi, Hildy. What did I miss? Fennec. You're alive. It's got to be me. I must set us all free. It's my destiny. My name is Hildy. Want more from your favorite Lemonada media podcasts? While supporting the shows that help make life suck less, subscribe to Lemonada Premium today. As a subscriber, you'll unlock exclusive bonus content like never before heard interviews, behind the scenes moments, bonus episodes and so much more. It's easy to sign up no matter what podcast app you use on Apple. You can just click the Lemonada logo in the Apple podcast app and hit subscribe. For all other podcast apps, head to Lemonada Supportingcast FM to subscribe. That's Lemonada Supportingcast FM. Are you in bed by 10? Can you feel your hormones raging? More than ever? Do you wake up every day wondering, is this it? Guess what? You're not alone. Welcome to my soul called Midlife, a weekly podcast hosted by me, Reshma Sajani. On this show, we're gonna expose the con we've been sold about middle age. Figure out what the fuck we want from our lives and how to get there. We'll have help from guests like Julia Louis Dreyfus, Supreme Court Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson and Alana Glaser. You can listen to my so called Midlife ad free on Amazon Music.