Down To Folk
Down To Folk

Season 2, Episode 39 · 1 year ago

It's What's For Dinner

ABOUT THIS EPISODE

Lloyd continues his journey to find Dana, Keith is back to fill in for Chad, and BrJordan thinks it's April.  

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CreditsHost: 

Performers: 

Special Guest: 

Today’s Poetry Selection: 

“Fish Heads” - Barnes and Barnes 

Stories: 

Farm Fresh - BrJordanLloyd's Long Walk - Chad 

Producer/Editor/Engineer: Dick CabezaIntern: Dana 

Distribution:The PodFix Network 

About UsWhat happens when you take three people,  put them inside a Secret Government Agency and give them access to the largest collection of folklore, fairytales, and legends that have (n)ever existed? 

Down To Folk is manufactured by M.A.S.S.K. The Ministry of Augmented Something Something, and a K. 

**Down to Folk is a work of comedy fiction.  The views and opinions related within should be taken as such, and are not the views and opinions of the creators, writers, or performers.  No children were harmed while creating this podcast, although, a few deaths have occurred, but that 'twas the Wendigo I reckon.**  

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I cannot believe this is where my life has ended up. I had standing, I had a mission. Now I'm stuck wrangling the world's largest collection of dipships. Come on, Mr Warrington, we're going to set up a new, better version of mask, one that's not scary. The stories of the Old Mask Make Me pee the bed. And now what do we have? Jokes? Yeah, guys, yeah, you know what? Keith Papaphonkqus and...

...only chance that he caught. I don't think he called. I'd in fact, when L S Outomn, I think he's on an island someplace, just on vacation. So get we're going to do this. Worth the piano. Just roll it over and yeah, have fun with us one. Okay, have fun now. I don't even care if you turn around this time, just hit record. Let's go with him. Fishheads, fishheads, Rollie Pollie, fishheads, fishheads, fishheads, eat them up yum in the morning, laughing happy, fish heads in the evening, floating in the soup. Fishheads, fishheads, Rollie Polie, fish heads, fishheads, fishheads, eat them up yum. Ask A fishhead anything you want to. They won't answer.

They can't talk. Fishheads, fishheads, Rollie Polie, fishheads, fishheads, fishheads. EAT THEM UP YUM. I took a fishhead out to see a movie. Didn't have to pay to get in. FISHHEADS, fishheads. Rollie polie. Fishheads, fishheads, fishheads. EAT THEM UP YUM. They can't play baseball, they don't wear sweaters, they're not good dancers, they don't play drums. FISHHEADS, fishheads. Rolie polie. Fishheads, fishheads, fishheads.

EAT THEM UP YUM. Rolie Polie, fishheads are never seen drinking cappuccino and Italian restaurants with Oriental Women. Yeah, fishheads, fishheads. Rolie polye. Fishheads, fishheads, fishheads. EAT THEM UP YUM. They have turned this hallowed institution into a collection of toilet humor and child death. But it's...

...fine. I will go convinced, DNA, that we need to stay and Beg for forgiveness. That's what we'll do. Start on the proper cloth and let the Holy Trinity of Bloff End for themselves. They were all late editions anyway, so why even by the trying to get them on track? Our story takes place in an English garden on a fresh, dewy morning, moments before the sunrise. There just outside the garden. In the Rolling Hills of the English countryside, deep in the roots of a large Old Tree, a Warren of rabbits woke from a restful night's sleep. Mother rabbits stood by the stove making porridge, calling out to her slumbering children. Peter, flopsy, Mopsye cotton tell, rise and shine, breakfast is on the table. Wake...

Up, wake up, a new day awaits. The four little rabbits stretched and yawned and slowly pulled themselves from the nest of warm blankets made from found clothes. They rubbed their faces and cleared their eyes of sleep as they groggily arrived at the table, where warm bowls of Porridge and fresh carrot cake muffins awaited. Good morning, Mamma, flopsy, mopsy and cotton tell said together. They always spoke as one. Good morning girls. Mother Rabbit answered with a soft kiss on each of their foreheads. Morning, Mum Peter Grumbled, his bluecoat buttoned crookedly, one ear bent down lazily. I will be off to mark at this morning. Jemima and Miss Tiggily wiggly will be with me. I asked that you stay inside and do not go into the garden. She said the last part directly to Peter. Yes, Mama, flopsy, Mopson and Catton tell smiled and answered cheerfully all mom Peter Sighed. I was...

...going to go get some squash blossoms and beat leaves today with Benji. No such thing. You will not go into the garden without me. Remember what happened to your father. The table fell silent. Everyone remembered what happened to their father. Farmer MURC Gregor had trapped his father and eaten him for Easter breakfast just last year. Everyone in the neighborhood knew that Father Rabbit was inebriated on fermented vegetable juice and was fornicating with the garden sculpture of a fairy when he stumbled into a trap. Yes, Mama, the girls chimed mournfully. Fine, Peter rolled his eyes. I won't be gone too too low, so please just stay inside. And with that, mother rabbit put on her shawl and hopped out the front door. The Warren was silent for a few moments. flopsy pushed away from the table and went to the door, watching her mother fade away. In the morning. Missed Peter Watched flopsy with anticipation.

She turned and she and her sister spoke. Mother is gone, then let it begin. Peter smiled a devilish smile. The Miss Hung hauntingly over the garden. Benjie stood by the Garden Gate, I scanning the meadow, waiting for his cousin to arrive. From the fog, tiny brown rabbit appeared in a blue denim coat with shiny buttons and approached Benji with a feverish hop. Morning Been, Peter said breathlessly. Ready to begin. Benjie, nervous as well? A rabbit replied. Yes, Peter mcgregory is in the garden and the others, the others at their post waiting for your command. Benjiea from good Peter's eyes glinted with a bit of mayhem. Farmer McGregor stood in the lettuce patch counting the heads of lettuce. To his satisfaction, it's going to be a good year for cabbages and lettuce, I do say so myself.

He chuckled, unaware that the metal and creatures hiding and waiting for Peter's command. Now, if only those damn did rabbits would stay away from them. Farmer McGregor set a few snares around the lattice patch. Should I catch them while I will be having rabbit again for east. He smiled, but his smile turned to a frown when, up from the farthest edge of the patch a brown bunny in a blue coat popped up its head. Rabbits. Farmer MC Gregor carefully stepped away from his lettuce as not to draw attention of the rabbit. He would wait and see if the rabbit was stupid enough to approach the lettuce and get caught in the snare. Peter saw McGregor and knew what lay ahead. He twitched his ear and thumped his leg upon the garden soil. The signal was made. Squirrel nut and scampered along the garden fence, making a skiddering noise that drew farmer McGregor's attention. Mister Jeremy Fisher hopped...

...from the bushes holding a rope that he bounced and would wound gingerly around Mc Gregor's feet. Tom Kitton and his sister's moppet and mittens took the other end of the robe and playfully pulled it tightly, yet loose enough not to draw attention. As they scampered into the nearby carrot bed. Farmer MC Gregor turned from Squirrel Nutkin and found that the rabbit was now nearer to him than before. He cocked his head into fuddlement towards the rabbit, footish rabbit, he muttered an aw Peter hopped closer to farmer Mc Gregor and then, without hesitation, began to nibble on the lettuce. McGregor took a step closer to Peter, only to find that his feet were bound and thus causing him to stumble and fall, his head hitting a well placed rock and knocking him out cold. Upon awaking from his trauma and do sleep, farmer McGregor found that he could not move his arms and legs as they were tied to the cross like structure in the middle of a meadow beneath the giant tree surrounding his visage.

Staring down upon him were forest preachers, a squirrel, a toad, some kittens and four rabbits, one in a denim blue coat. The chittering and chattering of at him angrily and then quickly vanished from view. It was then, when they vanished, that farmer McGregor slowly and jerkily began to rise, as if being pulled upwards on the structure he was bound to. Peter Yelled Paul to the meadowland creatures as they all hoisted farmer McGregor up through a series of pulleys and rope that utilized the thick branches of the tree. Once McGregor was up and stationary, the animals gathered before him and cheered. Farmer McGregor, confused by the abilities and actions of the animals, began to quickly notice that he stood in the middle of a Pentagram. Each of the animals moved from before him to a point on the star. They began to make a rhythmic grunts as the rabbit in the blue coat approached with a branch ablaze with...

...fire. This is for my father, this is for all of our departed. You have killed an to them with no thought. We avenge them and give you, to the dark load of the meadow, the when to go, and in doing so we lay claim to your land and your garden. You will never ever hum us again. Then the animals began to chant hey, when to go, Hey, when to go, hell, when to go. As Peter set farmer McGregor on fire. The animals, each at their points, watched as farmer McGregor twisted and screamed upon the frame. He was a scarecrow on fire. Their eyes shined in the fires glow, each them continuing the fire when it died down, each of them adding their own version of vengeance to the fire. And when the last gasp of air left McGregor's lungs, a haunting hush fell upon the meadow. I will ower your...

...request. The land and the Farms are yours. The when to go spoke upon the vanishing fog. Other rabbit arrived home to find that her children were playing inside the Warren peacefully. On the table was a wrapped parcel surrounded by fresh garden vegetables. Children, where did this come from, she asked, worried that they had ventured into the garden and not heeded her warning. Ben, she delivered it to us today. We think the packages meet Peter Smile. We should make a stew. Mother Rabbit had never had meat, but it smelled smoky and delicious. Yes, I will make a stew with this in the vegetables. We should invite the neighbors over and enjoy the stew with us. Yes, let's invite everyone. The girls chimed. I wonder what type of meat this is. Mother Rabbit lifted the package examine it closely. I'm not sure Pierre smouthed, but Benjie said it was farm fresh, so it must be good and healthy. And with that, mother rabbit made a...

...wonderful stew for all to enjoy. Good afternoon, Sir Richard. Yes, I know, your son had this wild idea to start his own version of mask, and they have besmirched the very fiber of everything we stand for. What's that? Yes, I know he's a good boy and has had a rough life, but his friends, not mine, by soiling your good name. What's that? Christmas? Of course we will stay. Let's gather around...

...the fireplace and you can share your wonderful stories with us. Cool, Oh, Chad, oh, he was having a moment of weakness and your idiot son inadvertently blew him up. You've been listening to a podcast of the pod fix network. Discover more audible gems like this at pod fix networkcom. Make sure to catch up to the minute networks and Anigan's by following at pod fix on twitter, official underscore pod fix on instagram at pod fix network on facebook and make sure to subscribe to pod fix presents wherever you choose to find podcasts. The pod fix network artist owned and love. Come on, Lloyd, final stretch. You can do this. I wonder where they were coming from.

Probably just lost.

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