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State Farm Agent
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Kristen Bell
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Kristen Bell
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State Farm Agent
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Kristen Bell
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State Farm Agent
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Kristen Bell
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State Farm Agent
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Unknown Speaker A
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State Farm Agent
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Rusty Quill Narrator
Acast helps creators launch, grow and monetize.
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Rusty Quill presents the Magnus Protocol episode 47 repetitive strain.
Unknown Speaker A
It.
Toy Maker
It'S.
Gwendolyn Bouchard
Please remember to knock before coming into my office. Celia, you were the one who called me in here? Nevertheless. Nevertheless what, Gwen? Anyway, I've called you in here because this is the second time this week you've turned up late. Look, can we just not. Not tonight, please. Now, I know we're all feeling the strain at the moment, but that just means it's even more important that we do our jobs. And what exactly is your job, Gwen? Because while I'm out there sorting everyone's caseloads on my own, you just seem to be sat in here twiddling your thumbs, watching everything go to hell. I'm not twiddling my thumbs. No, sometimes you get up and pace aimlessly. I can see you from here. You haven't even checked your messages yet. Is everything okay at home? Celia, we are done here. I decide when we're done. Just try not to let it happen again.
Ingsol
Hey, this is Ingsol. I'm after Lena. Kelly. Got your card from your assistant girl before she legged it. I've been thinking and, yeah, maybe I overreacted. I'm in a bad place now, so I thought, why not? Let's hear the offer. So, yeah, call me back if you're still interested. Bring the paperwork round. Or not. Whatever. What?
Gwendolyn Bouchard
Hi. Is that Grace?
Ingsol
Who's asking?
Gwendolyn Bouchard
This is Gwendolyn Bouchard.
Ingsol
Never heard of ya.
Gwendolyn Bouchard
You chased me out of your warehouse. You killed a man with his own tattoos in front of me.
Ingsol
Doesn't ring a bell.
Gwendolyn Bouchard
I'm with the Oiar.
Ingsol
The trash poker princess. How you doing? You changed your mind about the ink?
Gwendolyn Bouchard
What? No, I'm. I'm calling about the contract I offered you.
Ingsol
You're gonna have to speak up. I'm working. One sec. Sorry. Where were we?
Gwendolyn Bouchard
The contract.
Ingsol
All right. Yeah, so last time I was in a real I alone bear the curse kind of era, but turns out there's loads of us out here and a bunch of them do gigs for you guys, and they totally talked me around. So, yeah, just bring the paperwork over and I'll get it signed and we can get started.
Gwendolyn Bouchard
I'm afraid I can't do that.
Ingsol
You are.
Gwendolyn Bouchard
We don't have a contract for you.
Ingsol
It's just about the whole warehouse thing. You don't need to get all out of shape. I told you I was in a bad place. I'm doing much better now.
Gwendolyn Bouchard
The contract is closed.
Ingsol
Say again?
Gwendolyn Bouchard
The woman who wanted to contract you has been fired. The liar is under new management. And that means no more work for unstable externals. No more free victims and special favors. I'm in charge now. And we're going to be doing things properly, my way.
Ingsol
Who the fuck are you calling unstable?
Gwendolyn Bouchard
You don't need to get all bent out of shape about it.
Ingsol
Right. And what do I tell the others?
Gwendolyn Bouchard
Tell them. Tell them the buffet is closed.
Alice Dyer
Oh.
Unknown Speaker A
Oh, I'll tell them.
Ingsol
You have no idea. You are so completely.
Gwendolyn Bouchard
Oh, for Christ's sake.
Unknown Speaker A
HMP Down View. Internal records. Notice to prisoner Restriction of communications. Prisoner details. Surname, Lively, Sarah. Date of 1706, 1985. HMP Downview establishment. Same cell location, Wing C, cell 17. Restricted person details. Surname checks. Forename, Ellen or Sophie. Restriction details. Time period, 605-2024. Contact. Written letter. Grounds for restriction. Victim harassment. Communication reads, sarah Lively, you have been restricted from contacting the above mentioned person on the following grounds. Victim harassment. The decision to restrict you from contacting this individual has not been taken lightly, as our establishment is committed to maintaining ties with family and friends. Restriction of communications is not part of any form of punishment, but we are committed to make our establishment a safe and secure environment for prisoners, visitors and staff, and to safeguard the public where necessary. The restriction will be reviewed on 01092 024. You may appeal against this decision by using the formal complaints procedure available on your residential unit for the attention of the Head of Security and Operations. A digitised copy of this message and the attached letter will be held in your permanent record. Regards, hmp Down View. Security Manager. Attachment reads. Hi, Al. I don't know why I'm writing this. There's no way they'll let it get through security. And even if they do, there's no way you would open it. Why would you? But I need to write this. I need something somewhere that says what actually happened. Even if no one ever believes it. So if by some miracle you're reading this, then I need you to know I'm not sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry that you had to go through all this awfulness. I'm sorry that I broke your family. But I'm not sorry for what I did. Your brother deserved what happened and I think you know that, even if you can't believe it right now. I'd been going to therapy for six months when I decided to get a tattoo. I needed an anchor. Something concrete I could look at. Something he couldn't pretend didn't happen, because it would be right there, reminding me of myself. At least that was the idea. I don't care what Dr. Sutcliffe said in court, though. It wasn't an impulse decision. Sutcliffe had discussed it with me weeks beforehand and had even made me fill in a questionnaire about it. There's no way I could even have gotten a walk in session with someone like Ink Soul. It doesn't work like that. They could have told you that themselves if they had testified. We had this whole email chain over weeks because I wanted this too shall pass. And she kept saying she needed creative freedom. That is, until I agreed to pay double. I'd have copies of all of this and more if David hadn't deleted my accounts. Not that it wouldn't make a difference. I went to their pop up studio and got the work done. And it looked good. Great. Even though it hurt far worse than my first tattoo. They said I shouldn't cover it, but obviously I had to hide it. I got home alright and even managed to keep it secret at first. But that evening he grabbed my forearm. It hurt like hell and I cried out. Then, well, it went about as well as you would expect. I don't know why. That was the night I left him. Something about smearing my tattoo. The one thing that was meant to be outside his power. It hurt. And more than just my arm. The fine line work was already coming apart. And I remember thinking I couldn't imagine a more bitter reminder of why I needed to leave. I already had a go bag stashed in my wardrobe and a jar of cash behind the loo. It was Dr. Sutcliffe who suggested that I was ready to feel a pull, to stay a guilt or something. But the only thing I thought as I tipped out the front door was, thank God we never had kids. I got in the cab and just told him to start driving. He wanted to know where, but I didn't know. I could barely speak. All I could say was, away, please. And then it was quiet. Blissfully, almost painfully quiet. Just the hum of the engine, the rain drumming on the windows and the yellow motorway lamplights sweeping past in time with my heartbeat again and again. And when I woke up in bed with him the next morning, I honestly thought I was dead. I had died in the car and now I was in hell. It was the only possible explanation that made sense to me. I began to scream, but managed to choke it back. Instead, I slipped out of bed and checked the wardrobe to find my bag exactly where it always was. My cash jar was the same. It was only when I came back in from the bathroom that David opened his eyes. Then he rolled over and that was that. I went downstairs and made him breakfast. After he'd left, I spent the morning cleaning and tidying, as always. So by the time my therapy session came round, I'd already had hours to rationalise what happened as a dream. Vivid, cruel and traumatic dream, but a dream nonetheless. So, as normal, I checked David wasn't due back, locked myself in the bathroom and dialed into the session. It began the same as any other. But when I told Sutcliffe that I'd gone for the tattoo session, he suddenly interrupted me to criticize such impulsive behavior. I laughed, but he was dead serious. And when I mentioned the questionnaire he'd had me do, he just looked at me skeptically and muttered in his quiet way, that's not how I remember it. That chilled me. I don't know how long I sat there in the bathroom after that session, just thinking or thinking about thinking or not thinking at all. Finally, I looked down to my arm, looking for some reassurance, something permanent. Thankfully, it was still there and still hurting. With the design still smeared by David the day before, the word shall was ruined, but it was still just about legible. This too shall pass. I resolved myself to leave that night. I didn't know what was going on with Sutcliffe, but it didn't matter. I'd always swore I would leave if he left a mark, and this had to count. The nightmare was just a premonition. So I went through the rest of the day as expected. Dinner was ready for when he came in and I nodded in all the right places as he complained about his day in bed. I waited till he started snoring, then counted to 500 so that I knew he was really gone. Then I grabbed the go bag and the cash and slipped out again. This time I didn't take a taxi. I just started walking. I didn't keep track of the time, but I must have been walking hours. My legs ached and my feet had blistered, but I didn't care. Every step I could feel myself getting away, feel it all fading away beneath my boots. I was thinking this as I made it to some farmland not far from the M3 and leant against a fence, watching the little parcel of horizon I could see as it crept towards dawn. It was going to be a beautiful sunrise. Then I woke up in bed. There was no falling asleep, no transition. Just one moment I was stood waiting for a new day and the next I was waking up to him again. He opened his eyes and looked deep into mine, then finally muttered, what? Before rolling over. I bit my lips so hard it bled, then gently slipped out of bed and made breakfast. David left for work early, then I carried on with the chores. Eventually, I went up to change the sheets. And that was when I saw the stain. A stain from a blister that had burst on my foot. A walking blister. Seeing that stain was like someone had poured a bucket of cold water over my head. I suddenly began panting and stared down at my tattoo, hunting for that reassurance, but I could barely see the words. In fact, as I stared at it, the whole thing seemed to twist into dirty, irregular and ugly lines that now read, nothing shall pass. I did scream then. Long and deep and loud. I screamed and screamed with rage and anger and pain. I screamed till I was hoarse, and it felt like I was ripping my own throat out. Then I stopped screaming, changed the sheets, and took the dirties to the washing machine. Dinner was ready for when he came in. I nodded in all the right places as he complained about his day. And then after he went upstairs and fell asleep, I slipped in after him. And I counted to 500 again after he stopped snoring, even though there was no way he was waking up, not after losing that much blood. Happy? Honest. L. It felt so good, so unbelievably freeing to finally cut him loose, knowing that there would be no consequences, no punishment, no guilt, just another reset. And then everything would be like it was. I actually laughed out loud when I realized I could feel this way every single day. No one would ever know. I decided to go for a walk afterwards, stretch my legs, see if I could catch that beautiful dawn again before the reset. The police picked me up about 20 hours after you found him and called it in. I was still waiting for the reset that never came. I'm sure you think I'm crazy. My own therapist said as much to a jury, and all the evidence at the trial showed the same. But even so, I just need you to know that killing your brother wasn't my first choice. That said, I don't regret it, even though it stuck. And there's no going back this time. Trust me, it's better this way. I'm just sorry I hurt you when I freed myself. Look after yourself, El. With all my love, Sarah.
Gwendolyn Bouchard
Jack. Alice.
Alice Dyer
Hey, Celia, can you hear me? I'm in the airport and the signal's crap.
Gwendolyn Bouchard
No, yeah, I hear you. Did you get a flight in the end?
Ingsol
Yeah.
Alice Dyer
It was a massive ball ache, but long story. Don't worry about it.
Gwendolyn Bouchard
I'm just glad to hear you're all good. Sorry it didn't pan out.
Alice Dyer
Wasn't a complete bust. And hey, at least I made a terrifying new friend. Listen, while I finally have you. Have you made any progress with Sam at your end? I haven't been getting any updates.
Gwendolyn Bouchard
Oh, well, I mean, Gwen's been pushing me pretty hard while you've been gone, so.
Alice Dyer
Push her back off a cliff, preferably.
Gwendolyn Bouchard
I just mean I've. I've not had much time. I'm doing four people's caseloads.
Alice Dyer
And so what, you haven't got anything?
Gwendolyn Bouchard
I didn't say that.
Alice Dyer
Fine. Whatever. I'll be there tomorrow. Bring whatever you've got and you can catch me up there.
Gwendolyn Bouchard
Sure.
Unknown Speaker A
Right.
Alice Dyer
I've gotta go. Talk later.
Toy Maker
Alice. Good.
Alice Dyer
Yeah, it's fine. I'm fine. Alice.
Unknown Speaker A
Good.
Toy Maker
You are certain.
Alice Dyer
It'S nothing.
Toy Maker
She's not sleeping. The child is perhaps keeping her up. Little ones are always the loudest.
Unknown Speaker A
What?
Toy Maker
Do not worry, liebchen. You did not not let it slip. You're very careful. But I can smell these things. Vice do.
Alice Dyer
I won't let you hurt them.
Toy Maker
You could not stop me. But this does not matter. I do not want to harm them. You know this. I have a gift for the boy. You will take it to him.
Alice Dyer
Listen, I appreciate all your help, I do. But I'm not going to give my friend's kid a gift from.
Toy Maker
Well, you forget yourself. And worse, you forget me. You can take this gift or I can take your life. It is your choice.
Unknown Speaker A
Why?
Toy Maker
Because I am the toy maker. I am hydrating. I am polite, yes, but I am not kind. Now choose.
Alice Dyer
Ah, fuck. Do it then. Do it.
Toy Maker
I do like you very much. Alice.
Alice Dyer
What?
Toy Maker
There is no choice for you. The toy is already in your bag. I look forward to your efforts to be rid of it.
Unknown Speaker A
I. No. No. I chose to.
State Farm Agent
I chose to.
Toy Maker
Utah Alice is.
Rusty Quill Narrator
The Magnus Protocol is a podcast distributed by RustyQuill and license under a Creative Commons Attribution Non commercial share alike 4.0 international license the series is created by Jonathan Sims and Alexander J. Newell and directed by Alexander J. Newell. This episode was written by Alexander J. Newell and edited with additional materials by Jonathan Sims, with vocal edits by Nico Vitesse, soundscaping by Meg McKellar and mastering by Catherine Rinella, with music by Sam Jones. It featured Billy Hindle as Alice Dyer, Anuja Battersby as Gwen Bouchard, Lorianne Davis as Celia Ripley, with additional voices from Alexander J. The Magnus Protocol is produced by April Sumner, with executive producers Alexander J. Newell, Danny McDonagh, Lynn C. And Samantha F.G. hamilton, and Associate producers Jordan L. Hawke Taylor Michaels, Nicole Perlman, Ctraven and Megan Nice to subscribe, View associated materials or join our Patreon visit rustyquill.com Rate and review us online. Tweet us thererustyquill, visit us on Facebook or email us@mailrustyquill.com thanks for listening.
State Farm Agent
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The Magnus Protocol 47 - Repetitive Strain: Detailed Summary
Release Date: August 14, 2025
Host/Author: Rusty Quill
In episode 47, titled "Repetitive Strain," of The Magnus Protocol, listeners are plunged into a chilling narrative that intertwines workplace tensions, haunting memories, and supernatural threats. This episode masterfully blends elements of horror, mystery, and psychological thriller, continuing the epic metaplot that has captivated millions. The story navigates through the lives of key characters within the Magnus Institute, uncovering deep-seated fears and enigmatic occurrences that suggest something sinister is lurking beneath the surface.
The episode opens with Gwendolyn Bouchard addressing Celia Ripley regarding repeated tardiness. The conversation, laden with professional frustration, sets the stage for underlying tensions within the Magnus Institute.
This interaction highlights the strained relationships and the high-pressure environment the staff operates under, hinting at broader conflicts to come.
Shortly after, Ingsol contacts Gwendolyn about a contract proposal. The dialogue between them escalates quickly, revealing past grievances and a power struggle within the organization.
Ingsol (07:05): "I've been thinking and, yeah, maybe I overreacted. I'm in a bad place now, so I thought, why not?"
Gwendolyn Bouchard (08:08): "I'm afraid I can't do that."
The confrontation underscores the precarious nature of their professional relationship and foreshadows impending conflicts.
A pivotal moment in the episode is the distressing letter from Sarah Lively, detailing a traumatic experience involving trauma, therapy, and a disorienting cycle of events that suggest a time loop or recurring nightmare.
Excerpt from Sarah Lively's Letter:
"I've been going to therapy for six months when I decided to get a tattoo. I needed an anchor. Something concrete I could look at. Something he couldn't pretend didn't happen..."
This letter serves as a deep character exploration, revealing Sarah's internal struggles and the supernatural or psychological forces at play. Her narrative of repeatedly waking up to the same traumatic events hints at a curse or an eldritch influence that ties back to the Magnus Institute's research.
The episode crescendos with Alice Dyer being confronted by a sinister entity known as The Toy Maker. This confrontation introduces a new layer of horror, showcasing the tangible dangers the characters face.
"I am the toy maker. I am hydrating. I am polite, yes, but I am not kind. Now choose."
The dialogue between Alice and The Toy Maker is tense and fear-inducing, emphasizing the omnipotent threat that The Toy Maker poses. Alice's desperate attempts to protect her friend’s child add emotional weight to the encounter.
Time Loops and Repetition: Sarah Lively's letter introduces the concept of being trapped in a repetitive cycle, symbolizing how past traumas can haunt individuals and prevent them from moving forward.
Power Struggles: The conflict between Gwendolyn and Ingsol highlights the internal power dynamics within the Magnus Institute, suggesting that not all threats are supernatural.
Psychological Horror: The episode delves deep into the characters' psyches, exploring themes of guilt, regret, and the haunting nature of memories.
Supernatural Elements: The presence of The Toy Maker introduces an eldritch horror that goes beyond human conflicts, aligning with the podcast's overarching themes of the esoteric and the weird.
Gwendolyn Bouchard (04:36):
"Look, can we just not. Not tonight, please."
Ingsol (08:14):
"It's just about the whole warehouse thing. You don't need to get all out of shape."
Sarah Lively (09:30):
"I decided to go for a walk afterwards, stretch my legs, see if I could catch that beautiful dawn again before the reset."
Toy Maker (21:16):
"I am the toy maker. I am hydrating. I am polite, yes, but I am not kind. Now choose."
Episode 47, "Repetitive Strain," serves as a testament to The Magnus Protocol's ability to weave complex narratives that blend character-driven stories with overarching supernatural lore. The intricate storytelling, combined with powerful voice acting and atmospheric soundscaping, immerses listeners in a world where every decision and every memory holds weight. The introduction of The Toy Maker not only escalates the stakes but also expands the mythos of the Magnus Institute, setting the stage for future episodes to explore deeper and more terrifying dimensions.
For those unfamiliar with the series, this episode encapsulates the essence of The Magnus Archives universe: a meticulous examination of fear, both human and otherworldly, set against the backdrop of an enigmatic research institution. The seamless integration of personal trauma with supernatural horror creates a compelling narrative that keeps listeners engaged and eager for more revelations.
Thank you for joining us in this detailed exploration of "Repetitive Strain." Stay tuned for more episodes of The Magnus Protocol as we continue to uncover the mysteries within the Magnus Institute's archives.