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- [00:01]
Kevin Allison
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- [00:32]
Nayland Blake
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- [01:00]
Sarah Bell
Hey, folks, this is Risk, the show. The show where people tell true stories they never thought they'd dare to share. I don't know why I'm laughing. It's just. It's been a busy, busy, busy week, okay? I'm Kevin Allison, and every Thursday we release these special episodes. Oops, I shouldn't have hit the microphone there. We release these special episodes where we look back at content from. From our earlier years. This week, an episode that premiered in March of 2013. It's an episode we call Laughs, Groans, and Wieners. Hello, kids, this is Risk, the show where people tell true stories they never thought they'd dare to share. I'm Kevin Allison, and this is Broke for Free. Behind me now with a song called Calm the Fuck Down. Reminds me of my favorite moment ever in stand up comedy. Richard Pryor, live on the Sunset Strip. He had just had his accident, his freebacing accident where he nearly killed himself. So the audience was kind of nervous. He came out on stage, did about 10 minutes of normal stand up, and then finally he said, all right, everyone, you're nervous about how I'm gonna do. I'm nervous about how I'm gonna do. Let's all of us just chill the fuck out. And the audience loved him for it. It was a moment of total honesty in the moment. And that is what we are about here at Risk as well. You're gonna hear some pretty damn honest stuff on the show today, as usual. We're calling today's episode Laughs, Groans, and Wieners, because every one of these stories has laughs, groans and wieners. And I love all of those things. Who doesn't? And Oscar Meyer is what brings us to our first story on the episode today. This is Sarah Bell. She recently told a radio style story on the show, but here she is live at risk in New York City with a story we call the Hot Dog Picnic and its discontents.
- [04:21]
Kevin Allison
So I grew up in a dance studio. My mother was the office manager and I was forced to spend hours there every day. I hated it. The studio breeds a kind of hierarchy where femininity is at the top, beauty is paramount. I mean, there's mirrors everywhere. Talent is only a visual medium. And when you're awkward and funny and a little ugly, you become the target of psychological torture which is inflicted on you by bespangled and perfectly coiffed little dancer bitches. Now, I think that's why I gravitated to a sketch comedy group of eight men called Fucked. And you know, Fucked is all about doing what you're most afraid of on stage. For a lot of the guys in the troupe, that's pain stunts or nudity scenes like butt plug yoga, which is exactly what it sounds like. And for me, it's always been about telling secrets. Fucked is kind of like an extreme truth or dare. And when we would go to places like la, we were received with groans and, you know, yawns. But in places like Chicago, we feel like rock stars. And drinking helps with that fantasy. So it's our fourth year going to Chicago and the debauchery has evolved into morning beers while you're waiting for your turn to use the bathroom to have your first hangover shit of the day. And also just drunk whiskey, brunches, marathon binge drinking. And it's Saturday. It's the day of our last show. And after the last show is sketchubaiter. Now, Sketchu baiter is just the best. It's when they kick all the normals out of the theater and all the comedians come in and you perform your best material for them. And we want to top ourselves because we're little show offs. So Graham and Joe decide to do the nefarious hot dog picnic. This is the high water mark to measure all crazy stunts by. But by the day of the show, we're all sitting in the bar and Graham gets cold feet. He says his girlfriend doesn't want him to do the stunt. And that leaves poor Joe to take on the task by himself. But Joe's the only single dude left in the troop. And even though you may gain Notoriety. You will not be getting any pussy after a chick sees you do Hot Dog Picnic. It's good theater in the way that it changes the viewer after you see it. So there is Joe's a no go. And everybody is staring so hard into their beer that the carbonation is literally just fizzing right out. All our beers are flat. You know, we. Nobody wants to do this scene. It's terrifying. But if sketchubaiter falls apart, then the whole trip and our whole sort of year falls apart. So I volunteer myself. I'll do Hot Dog Picnic. I chug the beer. Everybody is instantly relieved. We jump into action. We have rehearsal in the hotel room. Everything's great until after. After our regular show when I'm back in the hotel room showering a quart of stage blood off my body from a scene in our regular show where I play a tap dancing aborted fetus. That's when I start having serious doubts. Johnny O must have sensed this, so he cracks me a sympathy beer and actually holds my hand as we walk down my personal Green Mile back towards the theater. With every step, heavy panic and dread is just growing inside of me. John has our Magnum of Jack Daniels and gives Baby her bottle. And I drink that whiskey like the cure for fatness is at the bottom of the bottle. I mean, I was drinking as if I was about to go into surgery with no anesthesia. It's a tradition for us to drink the Magnum during sketchubaiter, so I was definitely doing my part there. We file into the theater and we're told that instead of going on last like we were expecting, we would be fourth in the lineup of about 30 scenes. That means I would have to do the hot dog picnic and then sit for two hours and watch the rest of the show. This rocks me. I mean, I just thought that I could do the deed and jet set away immediately to avoid any kind of fallout that could potentially happen. I was going to need a lot more booze to make this happen. So I take a few more gulps of liquid courage and go backstage. I'm backstage, squatting in a corner, shoving a hot dog up my pussy. And it hits me. What the fuck am I doing now? The lights transition. We're announced. This is happening. I have to waddle out center stage because this sodok is really slippery. And I have to Kegel intensely to keep from having the thing plop right out of me and onto the floor because I'm not wearing any panties. They're in a heap. A little crumple backstage now, side note, I actually was terrified that this hot dog was going to get lost up inside of me. I don't know if any of you have had the sexual experience when a condom is mysteriously lost and then two or three days later it falls out of you. I did not want that to happen with a hot dog because there are cues happening. So I had made a hot dog retrieving device. I put the hot dog in a condom, tied it off with some dental floss. Think of it as kind of like a meat tampon. So here's the scene. This is the scene. I come out, I lay out a blanket, and Graham enters. I say, oh, hi, Graham. I'm. I'm preparing a lovely picnic for us. How do you like your meat cooked? Graham goes, ooh, how fancy. I don't know, medium, medium rare, a little pink in the middle. I lift up my skirt, reveal my hairy twat and pull the hot dog out. I bring it up to my nose, give it a little sniff, and a girl in the front row loses her fucking mind. She screams this blood curdling scream and vomits and runs out of the theater. Now, if I really sit in this moment, this caught me by surprise. I mean, is it really that terrible? You know, we're not even halfway through the scene yet, and I have this little voice in my head that's like, maybe this was the nervous feeling you were having. Maybe you didn't really think this thing the whole way through is this feeling shame? I don't know. But we have. Things are happening, we're going. So I didn't want anyone to think that this was some sleight of hand, some illusion that maybe I hid it under a roll of F. So I shove the hot dog back inside myself and I cook it some more. And this time I come downstage and slowly pull this hot dog out of me in a slow, graceful gesture like Arthur pulling Excalibur from the stone and cut it out of the condom, slap it on a bun, go to take a bite, and Graham says, whoa, whoa, whoa. You're not gonna eat that, are you? I say, no, of course not. Not without mustard. Put mustard on it, take a bite, give it to Graham, who eats the whole thing in one mouthful. Now, at this point, Johnny O comes out and as a little de gestiff, we eat three orange Tic Tacs that he's hidden in his foreskin. At this point, I black out a little. I'm told that as I exit, the crowd chants, usa. Usa usa that's at least what they say you can hear on the flip cam footage. I don't really remember anything until I get back into the warm embrace of the group. You know, the boys are loving me. They're patting me on the back, they're so proud of me. And I just, I saved the day. Fucked his back and we're better than ever. And then I have to go pee. Now this little breaking of the seal popped the whole little love bubble I was experiencing. I stumble out the side exit, thank God I'm by the door, and stumble along the bar to the bathroom. There are these girls applying lip gloss in the mirror and checking out their club couture and wiping the snow off their high heeled boots. And as soon as I enter, the talking stops. Silence. It's very weird. I kind of stagger to the farthest stall and lock myself in. I don't have many panties or tights on, so all I have to do is sit down on the toilet to pee. And, you know, the snickering and the laughing just kind of comes back in over hushed tones. And I'm devastated. I go and wash my hands and there's just dirty looks and eye rolls through the mirror and I just feel like I'm back in the dance studio again. So I try to recover and I go to the bar and it's like a fucking old timey western movie when the gunslinger saddles up to the bar and then the peony stops and everybody, everybody's quiet and stares at the cowboy to see what his next move is. And I do my best impression of someone who isn't too drunk to be served to get myself two beers because I need something to wash down all the whiskey that I'm going to consume. Now I get so obliterated that I barely make it through airport security at 5am so when I get home, my boyfriend asks me, how was Chicago? Fine. I can't tell him. I can't tell him that I cheated on him in Chicago with a hot dog. And you know, there was no solace. Chicago was supposed to be my rejuvenator. It's kind of my like creative Lazarus Pit. And now I felt so hollow and alone, this crippling stage fright starts to seep in. You know, I had made this cocktail of shame and regret for myself and it manifested into the physical. What stage fright is that goes on in your ears and your heart beating through your chest and, you know, your voice cracking and the dry mouth and your brain fluttering like a floor. And I couldn't do anything. I started pulling Away from scenes. I took myself out of scenes and then I took myself out of shows altogether. And then I was just out of the group. I couldn't do it. The guys didn't understand. They thought Hot Dog Picnic was this fantastic victory for us. And they couldn't see that I was really fucked up about it and couldn't. And there wasn't anything that was making it better so that the group could move forward as a group. You know, I allowed a girl to come into the troop, which I was always really, really against. The queen bee syndrome was strong with me. And I let this girl come in and she was a girl that we went to school with and just this beautiful, gorgeous dancer type, you know, the enemy. And she did all the scenes just as well as I ever did. And my worst fear came to life. It is. I replaced myself. It was a wrap. So July comes around and Fucked is celebrating its 10 year anniversary. So they want to put on a big, huge show and I really want to be a part of it. But I know I have to exercise this hot dog picnic from me or I might not ever be able to go back on stage again. And since the guys don't really understand that the stage fright has gotten to me so much, they're not really who I want to help that with them, I had found my voice. But now it was. They didn't understand and they were no longer a safe harbor for me. But Jessica, the new girl in the troupe, stepped up, man. She directed me through this panic. We went over the monologue. She was my editor. She was my absolution. She was truly my ally. And I did this piece. And without her, I wouldn't be standing here telling you this story tonight. Thank you.
- [20:04]
Sarah Bell
Usa. Usa.
- [20:14]
Kevin Allison
We'll be right back. We're back. Oh, I'd love to be an after Maya Wiener. That is what I'd truly like to be. Cause if I were an Oscar Meyer Wiener, everyone would be in love with me.
- [20:39]
Sarah Bell
This is Risk. A little something here from our own Jeff Barr behind me now. And I just want to remind everyone about our Storytelling for Business video lecture course. If you go to thestorystudio.org and click on the little button that says send me the videos, you'll be on your way to our Storytelling for Business course. It is over 100 minutes of video lectures. It is over 30 pages of workbook exercises to lead you step by step through the process of workshopping compelling, entertaining, persuasive stories for your career, for your job interviews, for. For your social networking. For your presentations, and we keep adding to this course. We're going to soon have live Q and A online sessions with me for anyone who's purchased the course. It really is an investment that will last a lifetime. So go to thestorystudio.org, click on the little button that says, send me the videos, and you'll be on your way to getting our storytelling for business video course. Now, in just a bit bit, we're going to hear a story told by me at the Pit here in New York City, the last Risk live show we have here. But before that, we're going to hear from a brilliant and beautiful man, Mr. Nayland Blake. You can find him at naylandblake.net that's N A Y L A N D B L a K e dot net and here he is now with a story we call Justice Comes to the Gnome. Fondly.
- [22:14]
Kevin Allison
Everyone would be in love with me.
- [22:31]
Nayland Blake
I have been called in the past a gnome fondler, and that is because one of the type of men that I find incredibly attractive are guys who are small and have beards. If they're generally hairy, that's great, but it's something about, you know, compact, compact guys with beards very, very hot for.
- [23:09]
Sarah Bell
Hi ho, hi ho.
- [23:11]
Kevin Allison
It's home from Mercury. Go hi ho, hi ho.
- [23:18]
Nayland Blake
So once a year, I go to a gathering of kinky men at a campground on the East Coast. And over the years, there are a couple of people that I have developed pretty strong relationships with. And I met this guy at this event years ago and was immediately attracted to him to the point of being tongue tied, actually, my jaw was just kind of on the ground. And luckily, my friend who had invited me to the event in the first place came to my rescue by sort of swanning over and going, oh, Naylon, you should meet this guy. And, like, forcing us to talk to each other. So I got past my sort of terminal shyness enough to ask this guy for a playdate, and we had a fantastic time. He was very physically rough with me, and we did a whole batch of things, at the end of which I said one of the silliest things that I've ever said, which is, you know, you can be meaner to me. I said that, you know, just to reassure him that he hadn't been too rough and that I liked what he had been doing and that I could take it. Little did I know that he's an attorney, and one of the things he does is take depositions. So I didn't put it Together at that point that anything that I said to him was being filed away for future reference and is very happy to construct elaborate plots. So we played at that event. We sort of were in touch with each other over the year. We live in different parts of the country, so we didn't get a chance to see each other very much. We saw each other a little bit. And the next year we're at the campground and a guy that I don't know walks up to me and hands me a blue folder. Inside of the folder is a legal document that is a summons to appear before the gnome tribunal to answer for my crimes. So I'm supposed to go to the camp's gazebo after 8pm I'm allowed to bring a character witness. So I enroll one of my friends and around 7:30 we set off and we notice that the path to the gazebo has tiny mushrooms with little LED lights marking the way. So we very carefully go along the path and we enter the gazebo, which is dark until someone turns on a miner's headlamp. And it is the guy who summoned me there dressed as a gnome. Then other people emerge from out of the shadows and it's a bunch of other guys also dressed as gnomes. And what happens next is a kind of kangaroo court where I am presented with drawings that I had made and emails that I had written, things that I had posted online, all sort of called in evidence of how I had exploited gnomes and how I was a gnome predator. And throughout this entire interrogation, there's an ongoing commentary from the gnome peanut gallery.
- [27:10]
Sarah Bell
This is terrible. This is terrible.
- [27:12]
Nayland Blake
This is the worst thing that has.
- [27:13]
Kevin Allison
Ever happened to gnomekind.
- [27:15]
Nayland Blake
Ye must be punished.
- [27:16]
Sarah Bell
Ye must be punished.
- [27:18]
Nayland Blake
Yes, yes, ye must be. And then it got onto some weird thing about blow pops. It was like somebody had blow pops and was like, do you want another blow pop? No, no, no, I'm fine. No, but it is true that gnomes need blow pops. The trial sort of goes on and on and on. I'm sort of trying to defend myself, being confronted with all this very official evidence. You know, I had had a picture of myself online wearing a shirt that said gnome fondler on it. Like, I took it very seriously. Like, I was accused of exploiting gnomes by drawing erotic images of gnomes. And I explained that that was not exploitation, but that it was actually a celebration of gnome sexuality, that they were drawn from my imagination. They weren't drawn from any particular gnomes. But then that was being contradicted by the other witnesses who Were going like that looks just like Stanley. Stanley gnome. Where is he now? We don't know where he is. Ever since he posed for you, he's disappeared. What have you done with him? So finally, I'm offered a way out. And the way out is that I have to roll dice to determine numbers. And those numbers will indicate the extent of my various punishments. These punishments are going to be carried out at one of the event's dungeons. So myself, my character witness, who had fled for a moment when he was thought that he was going to have to endure some of these punishments, but who returned and a group of six men dressed as gnomes march up to the dungeon at this very serious leather event where people are being suspended and people are being flogged and treated with electrical equipment and beaten. And we all sort of walk in the door of this dungeon and silence falls. And every head sort of turns to look at us, and we see that there isn't really any room in that dungeon for me to be punished properly. So we leave. And then I am frog marched down to another sort of smaller dungeon where there is room and sentences carried out. And I realized that one of the numbers that I rolled was for the number of clothespins that were going to be placed on my body. And another number was the number of times I was going to be hit with a single tail and asked to count off the times I was being hit. And I started, and then it stopped, and I heard this voice that said, no, count it like a gnome. So I had to go back and recount, like, 1, 2, 3. And luckily I was blindfolded at that point, because my guy told me afterwards that he was collapsing in laughter at the point that that was happening, and, like, could barely get it together to hit me. And then I'm forced to sign a confession. And there's a sort of strange craft interlude where I'm given a bunch of newspaper and I'm asked to, like, make things out of it, like a pair of peaked shoes and a conical cap out of newspaper and an odd pipe. And I'm sort of tied up into a position, and these things are sort of placed on me, and a picture is taken, and then there's more poking and prodding and tickling. And all the while that this is going on, there's this sort of ongoing chorus of gnome voices calling for justice and calling for reparations. And finally, I'm at the breaking point. The psychology of the interrogation and the physical sensation of the punishment was completely serious. And that was one of the Things that was really powerful about the whole experience is that it was play in the best sense. It was this thing that at one moment was completely hilarious and at another moment was completely flat out serious. And I'm utterly wiped out. And my passport to the gnome kingdom is presented to me and properly stamped. And I'm shown one of the pictures that was taken of me, which is basically me in the position of a drawing of a gnome that I had done years before that I had included in an exhibition. So that drawing was sort of recreated with me in the gnome role. And as we sort of wrap up and people are getting me water and we're sort of being talked down to it, I come to this point of realization that this guy has done an enormous amount of research over the previous year. And he reminded me that I said he could be meaner to me. And I had said, believe me, that's completely mean enough. But in the midst of all of that, I felt an incredible humility that someone had gone to all of that trouble to know me that thoroughly and that this thing that presents itself as a kind of torture was actually the most amazing act of attention that I had ever received. Happiness is. Happiness is.
- [33:37]
Kevin Allison
Happiness is. Different things to different people. Different things to different people. Different things to different people.
- [33:48]
Sarah Bell
Different things to different people. This goes back to my 20s. It was the winter of 1994. And my little posse, my gay circle of friends, we entered this apartment way at the top of Manhattan Island. And as soon as I walked in the door, I heard this laugh coming from the other side of the room. This little, like, chipmunkey giggle, like a little kid was being tickled. And my friend Mark said, sounds like Mikey's here. Oh, boy. And when we crossed the room, I saw that this little guy, Mr. Mikey, who's an Italian guy with beautiful brown skin, brown hair, sparkle in his eyes, big grin. And someone was leaving the party at the time. And Mikey said to them, oh, no, you're leaving so soon? And then he said, farewell and adieu to you, fair Spanish ladies. And I burst out laughing because he was doing his impression of the Shark Hunter Quint from the movie Jaws. And that was an impression I like to do. So when I burst out laughing, he really lit up. And he said to me, oh, don't mind me. I'm just a big old fooler. And I laughed again. And soon I was making him laugh because I could match all of his imitations of Woody Allen and Oliver Hardy. Now, there happened to be this absurdly gorgeous kind of Abercrombie sort of blonde boy there at the party. So Mikey and I started entertaining each other by flirting with this blonde boy, only with the accent of Inspector Clouseau. The blond boy was completely, completely baffled and bewildered. But he was clearly, like, not interested in anyone at the party. He was just looking at himself in mirror after mirror after mirror. And I said to Mikey, seems like he'd be having a much steamier night at Pottery Barn. And Mikey burst out laughing. And then I did something that completely surprised me. I grabbed him from. From behind, around the waist, and I swung him around like you would with a little kid playing swinging statues. And he was screaming, laughing. Now, it was way too affectionate, way too soon. But it felt so good, I didn't know what to do next. It was just this full body hug that came out of nowhere. And this might sound odd, but my brain might have taken a little while to catch up with what had happened there. But my body knew right in the middle of that hug, I was in love. Now, after that, Mikey ended up hanging out with my whole posse of friends all the time. And I kind of developed a hugging habit. Finally, one night I wrote out this little speech, this little script that I presented to him over the phone that ended with, and so, would you like to come over for dinner sometime this week? And there was a pause, and he said, listen, Kev, I've been thinking about this. Actually, I just adore. I love how affectionate you are with me, but as a friend, I just don't think I feel the same way you feel, and I don't want to lead you on. Well, when I hung up, I kind of felt like the guy who gets all his intestines ripped out of him by the zombies in dawn of the Dead. And then it occurred to me, Mikey would get that reference. I looked at my journal, and the last line that I wrote that night was, I have got to get over this tonight. Sixteen months later, I'd grown quite used to that intestines being ripped out feeling. All of our friends were sick of the Kevin and Mikey cycle. The pattern was that I'd show up at a party or out for a night of bar hopping and be determined that I was going to stay purely civil with Mikey and not let our skin touch. As the evening would wear on, Mikey would become kind of saddened by this, and he would kind of start craving my attention. So he'd do something to crack me, like grab my crotch or moon me. And of course, I would suddenly become a little puddle and be convinced that, oh, my gosh, this is the sure sign that we're going to be lovey dovey now. And then he'd have to push me away all over again. Now, one night, he had no way to get home, and I had him over. And somehow we allowed ourselves to be in the spoon position in my bed. And I found myself saying to him, I wish. I wish I could stop feeling the way I feel about you, but I love you, I love you, I love you. And he said, okay, enough of that talk. Enough. And he fell asleep. And for the next two hours or so, I lay there with Bonnie Raitt singing I can't make you love me if you don't, in my mind on a loop. Finally, the week of July 4, 1996, arrived, and Mikey and a few of my friends had secured a house on Fire Island. Now, in the previous months, I'd done something that was very, very uncharacteristic of me. I had exercised. I had become obsessed Suddenly with like, 15 hours a week at the gym. So I was really building myself up. And I was. It was all preparation for Fire Island. There was a part of me that was like, I'm gonna be so ripped that I'm just gonna find a husband there on Fire island and forget Mikey forever. And then a part of me that added, or this is what will make Mikey finally like me. So when I showed up at the house, it was all kisses and toasting of cosmopolitans, but Mikey was just coming out of the shower in nothing but a towel, and he kind of sashayed up to me and he said, oh, fancy meeting you here. And he flashed me his crotch like, you know, a pervert out on the street in a trench coat. I instantly became like Sylvester, just spotting Tweety Bird and started racing after him around the entire property, just reaching to get that towel off of him. I'm running around and running around, and I. I finally leap over a couch and my foot catches the end of it, and I end up with my right knee in my right eye. I had put all that work into prepping my body for Fire island, and now I had a monstrous, bulbous black eye. Mikey could not stop laughing because he thought that this was the ultimate Laurel and Hardy moment. But between us, another fine mess. But the big night was July 4th. Now, all of my friends had brought an arsenal of drugs, and the legendary DJ Junior Vasquez was playing at the Pavilion. And of course, the Enchanted Forest, where all the anonymous sex happens on Fire island, was just overflowing with men. Now party Drugs had never gone over too well with me. They didn't agree with me, let's say. But my friend Mark had mentored me that evening. He said, kevin, take some ecstasy, but not on an empty stomach. Have a few vodka martinis first. So after three vodka martinis, I took the ecstasy and went out for a very warm and fuzzy night carousing about the place. And it was a lot of fun. I'll leave the part about the Enchanted Forest out of the story, but at one point, it's about five in the morning and I find myself out on the beach alone. And I find myself obsessing over my obsession. What's Mikey doing right now? Is Mikey even wondering where I am? And why can't I stop myself from wondering these things? Before I knew it, that ecstasy, you know, it makes you rather fragile. I've got tears streaming down my face. Well, the moon is shining on me and I don't know what I was thinking, but I thought, fuck it, I don't care who walks by. I dropped to my knees and I opened my hands to the heavens and I said, my God, please help me get over him. I'm begging you, help me get through. Well, I continued down the beach and I ran into a couple of my friends. And one of them offered me what was called Special K. This is a powdered form of a tranquilizer that veterinarians use to put your pets out for surgery. So I took two little sniffs of this stuff and decided to head home, end my evening and go back to our place. Well, the drug overwhelmed me immediately. I was like, oh, my God, I have to get into a prone position in a bed as soon as possible. Then it was as if the gears on the film projector had gotten loose because some images and sounds seemed to be moving in slow mo and others seemed to be doing jump cuts. And the fan, the ceiling fan above my head, at times it sounded like a symphony of noise. And then there was this point at which I started to feel like I was no longer on the bed. And I began to feel like I was floating upward and upward and then progressing out into the living room. And from the opposite side of the room came Mikey. I was confused. I thought, why isn't he with everyone else? But he was laughing now. I couldn't speak. I couldn't form words. So I just started whack, walking toward him. But his laughter just kept getting bigger and bigger. And then I noticed, so did his body. He was growing and expanding. And by the time he was about an Arm's length from me. He was about 2ft taller than me. And then I realized he was no longer flesh and blood. He was dissipating into a sort of mist of red and blue and brown. And I couldn't stop. I couldn't say anything. All I could do was keep moving forward. And then I felt this mist on my face and on my chest. And after a moment, I realized I walked right through him. And then I felt the bed underneath my hands and feet again and realized I hadn't gotten up out of bed at all, but once again felt myself floating upward and out toward the living room. And there again was Mikey. And this time he was angry. He was just full of rage. And as I'm going toward him, I'm trying to think what I can do to calm him down, but his body is expanding and he's growing larger. And as soon as he's up close to me, he becomes a mist again. He dissipates. And I walk right through him. I'm in bed again and then back in the living room. And there's Mikey. And this time he's crying. And I want to console him. And now I'm enjoying this. Now I'm feeling like, wow. I'm kind of relishing walking right through. It's as if I'm shielded from the effects that he normally has on me. And I'm just plowing right on. And the pattern repeated about seven times. There was frightened Mikey and Mikey with, like, childlike wonder and seductive Mikey. And I just kept walking through until I passed out. And this might sound odd, and it might have taken my brain a couple of days to figure out what I'd been through. But when I woke up that next morning, my body knew that I'd begun to get over him. That I'd made it through. Thank you. Waiting at arrivals by the baggage cabs. Time can be a tyrant, but it's always served you well. The game is just a game and the prize is just a prize. How do you keep a straight face when you're telling all those lies? You are the one. You are the bullet in the chamber of the gun. You are the long forgotten prodigal son. And you will be here ages after I'm gone. I can only hope to kill you with a song. That is it for this week of Risk, my friends. This is Stars Behind Me now. So just remember, if you need to get over someone, there's nothing like a little prayer and animal tranquilizer. We'll be back with another episode next week. In the meantime, folks, today's the day. Take a risk. You are the one.
- [50:31]
Kevin Allison
You are the bullet in the chamber of the dawn.
- [50:36]
Sarah Bell
You are the long forgotten friend, prodigal son. And you will be ages after I'm gone. I can only hope to kill you with a song. I can only hope to kill you in a song. I got one shot to kill you in the song. I can only hope to kill you in the song. I've got one shot to kill you.
- [51:33]
Kevin Allison
I lift up my skirt, reveal my hairy twat and slowly pull this hot dog out of me.