Chapter 1: What is the significance of SYSK's annual Spooktacular?
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Hi, Kyle. Could you draw up a quick document with the basic business plan? Just one page as a Google doc and send me the link. Thanks.
Hey, just finished drawing up that quick one page business plan for you. Here's the link.
But there was no link. There was no business plan. I hadn't programmed Kyle to be able to do that yet. I'm Evan Ratliff here with a story of entrepreneurship in the AI age. Listen as I attempt to build a real startup run by fake people. Check out the second season of my podcast, Shell Game, on the iHeartRadio app or wherever you get your podcasts.
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Chapter 2: What classic horror stories are featured in this episode?
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The cascada was in all ways but one, a perfectly delightful house. Yet, if it were standing now, nothing in the world, I use the phrase in the literal sense, would induce me to set foot in it again. For I believe it to have been haunted in a very terrible and practical manner. Most ghosts, when all is said and done, do not do much harm.
They may perhaps terrify, but the person whom they visit usually gets over their visitation. I feel like that's quite a presumption, don't you?
Yeah, totally.
Like what about somebody whose hair is white because they're being that scared? That's tough to get over. That's happened. Okay, back to it. They may, on the other hand, be entirely friendly and beneficent. But the appearances in the Via Cascana were not beneficent.
And had they made their visit in a very slightly different manner, I do not suppose I should have got over it any more than Arthur Inglis did. What do you think?
I think so far, so good. We have that scary setup of a creepy place, which seems to be most of our stories. But again, this one goes in a different direction.
You want me to keep going?
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Chapter 3: How does the story 'Caterpillars' unfold?
And most of the time it is just dread. Very few things actually happen. Something happens here. And it is fat, lumpy, footlong caterpillars, hundreds of them on this bed of this unoccupied room.
Yeah, I wonder what kind of drugs EF was taking.
He was passing the ether rag.
Yeah, what did they have back then? Yeah, probably ether. Oh, they had a lot of ether. Is it me? Is it time?
Yeah.
Yeah, I think so. All right. as of a dream was on me. But the next, I was running upstairs again to my room, and I remember feeling the cold of the marble steps on my bare feet. Oh, they're marble. They're not oak. Right. Oh, well. I rushed onto my, you know, marble is a lot to take care of, so that's not a great choice for a floor, especially stairs.
It's true. And it could have still possibly come from the Black Forest.
Yeah, maybe so. You got to see all that stuff, though, every year or so.
Yeah, but I want to give a little shout out here, Chuck. This is genuine. You can make a poultice out of baking soda and water only, and you have to make it kind of thick. Okay. But if you have like a wine spot or something sunk into your marble countertop, put that on there, leave it for a couple of hours, scrape it off and wipe it down. I'm not kidding.
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Chapter 4: What is the role of the characters in 'Caterpillars'?
Oh, said Inglis. It has begun to spin. I want to see what sort of moth it turns into.
I opened the box again and saw these hurrying movements were indeed the beginning of spinning of the web of its cocoon. Then Inglis spoke again. It has got funny feet too.
He said. They're like crab's pincers. What's the Latin for crab? Oh yes, cancer. So in case it is unique, let's christen it. Cancer Inglisensis.
I love how inevitably all of your voices end up being an old witch. It's every time, and it's a great voice, too, so I'm always very satisfied when that starts to happen.
I love it. He names this thing after himself.
What a jerk. I know he is. Oh, I continue on, right? Yeah. Then something happened in my brain, some momentary piecing together of all that I had seen or dreamed. Something in his words seemed to me to throw light on it all, and my own intense horror at the experience of the night before linked itself onto what he had just said.
In effect, I took the box and threw it, caterpillar and all, out of the window. This must have been fairly surprising in the middle of the conversation. He just picks up the box and throws it out the window. There was a gravel path just outside, and beyond it, a fountain playing into a basin. The box fell on to the middle of this. Inglis laughed.
"'So the students of the occult don't like solid facts,' he said. "'My poor caterpillar!' The talk went off again at once to other subjects. I can imagine everybody's a little embarrassed. Yeah, like, so anyway. How about them Yankees? Right.
And I have only given in detail as they happen these trivialities in order to be sure myself that I have recorded everything that could have borne on occult subjects or on the subject of caterpillars. He really wants you to know, like, I'm giving you all the stuff here. I'm surprised he didn't say what he had for lunch and breakfast.
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Chapter 5: How does the setting influence the horror in the stories?
A lot of times it comes right out of a little marble pee-pee. It's a tinkle. It's a tinkle, exactly. and crawling up its leg was the caterpillar. Strange and scarcely credible as it seemed, it must have survived the falling to bits of its prison and made its way to shore, and there it was, out of arm's reach, weaving and waving this way and that as it evolved its cocoon.
Then, as I looked at it, it seemed to me again that, like the caterpillar I had seen last night, it saw me, and breaking out of the threads that surrounded it, crawled down the marble leg of the cupid and began swimming like a snake across the water of the fountain towards me. Oh, my God. It came with extraordinary speed. The fact of a caterpillar being able to swim was new to me.
That's in parentheses, of course. And in another moment was crawling up the marble lip of the basin. Just then, Inglis joined us.
why if it isn't old cancer english census again he said catching the sight of the beast what a tearing hurry it is in we were standing side by side on the path and when the caterpillar had advanced to within about a yard of us it stopped and began waving again as if in doubt as to the direction in which it should go then it appeared to make up its mind and crawled onto Inglis' shoe.
It likes me best, he said, but I don't really know that I like it. And as it won't drown, I think perhaps... He shook it off his shoe, onto the gravel path, and trod on it. Nice. Man, this Inglis guy just stomps this thing.
Yeah, well, he's the pith helmet type, and they do those kind of things. They don't have a huge value on bug life.
Agreed.
They didn't even like the movie A Bug's Life.
No.
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Chapter 6: What are the reactions of the characters to the supernatural events?
He and his wife Frances lived in a cheerful white painted wood house with a big stone chimney and a tastefully designed stone terrace out back. That they lived in this house in the country was one of the factors that made the Hodges place in the history of this world secure for whatever stretch of time there is ahead for this universe. Everything, of course, had to dovetail perfectly.
Have you ever thought about an accident? For instance, a man who was hit on the head by a flower pot or a brick. The man is, say, 40 years old, and yet the months and days and hours and seconds of those 40 years have to be perfectly synchronized to bring him to that spot on the sidewalk precisely at the time that the brick is unloosened by the wind and sent plummeting on its mission of death.
It's very P.T. Anderson Magnolia set up.
For sure.
So it was with the Hodges. Then you see, Arthur Hodges was a writer. That's important. If everything else had been perfect, but he hadn't been a writer, there would have been no record for the incredible events that follow. Likewise, everything else would have been upset if Arthur Hodges just hadn't been a successful writer.
Just being a writer wouldn't have been enough because his junk, as he called it in his deprecating fashion, was turned out with sufficient facility and talent to have made his name a headliner on many of the nation's biggest magazines. He had more than enough money.
All this is important, I think, is what Alison V. Harding is saying.
That's right. Money meant two new autos in the two-car garage out back, his pretty redhead wife Fran dressed inconspicuously, but in the good taste which signals expensive clothes. And this is, of course, the most important part.
He had what he jokingly confided to his neighbors was a hermetically sealed study and bedroom for those summer months when ragweed, timothy, and other such deadly pollens would have made his life in the country quite terrible. They had a joke Fran and Arthur did from July through September.
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