ADAM RAYMONDA: Hello there - It’s Adam again. I’m hiding in the bushes next to Saint Patrick’s in the wee hours of the night because some eccentric strangers are visiting Father Ben from a secret agency called The Amelia Project. I’ve already seen two people come and go. First, an all too chipper fellow wearing a bow tie and secondly woman who looked deeply upset.
She just walked out of the church looking a little less sad than when she walked in, so I suppose that is good? Maybe the people here should give more credit to father ben?
(WHISPER-YELLING)WHAT AM I EVEN SAYING?
Ooo! Another woman is getting out of the van now and heading towards the church!
UGH. Sister Catherine just sent me a text that says “if you get caught, I’ll make sure you’ll be meeting our Lord and savior sooner than you would hope,” so I guess I should shut up and listen in to our third and final installment of FORGIVE AMELIA - A TRIPTYCH. Enjoy!
[SFX: MUSIC]
[SFX: Confessional screen opens and Amelia sits down]
AMELIA: (Exhaling, a little impatient) Alright, let’s get this over with. Forgive me father for I have sinned, it’s been 15 years since my last confession.
FR. BEN: Welcome back, what would you like to confess today?
AMELIA: I assumed my colleagues would have laid that out for you already.
FR. BEN: They both seemed pretty interested in talking about other things, I know you were all just at the tragic events that happened at the Salt City Potato Festival and you helped some teens fake their own deaths, but that’s about it.
AMELIA: (Disappointed) Hm. Well I was hoping this would at least be somewhat efficient, but I guess I’ll have to give you the full story.
FR. BEN: Yeah I get that a lot… (sighs)
AMELIA: It’s fine, I do honestly feel guilty about what ended up happening with our plans, so it’s probably for the best.
FR. BEN: (surprised) Oh! Great! I was beginning to think I’d never find out what actually happened. S- spill the beans.. Sorry, I mean uhm… feel free to begin whenever you’re ready.
[SFX: Music ends]
AMELIA: Well it started about a week ago when we received a call on our answer phone from these two teenagers. Young lovers from rival salt potato family empires, looking for a way to build a life together despite years of conflict.
FR. BEN: (confused) Salt potato family empires?
AMELIA: I had the same reaction too, apparently it’s a regional dish to Syracuse, just potatoes boiled in mountains of salt, traditionally German and brought over by immigrants in the 19th century.
FR. BEN: (politely) Oh no, sorry, I’m very well acquainted with the concept of salt potatoes. I was more surprised by the “family empires” part of that sentence.
AMELIA: Ah yes that makes sense, well the story’s still essentially the same. German families brought over salt potatoes and began growing them here in central New York. Two families, the Clausens and Schultzes built farms and slowly but surely built up what became the perennial salt potato suppliers for the entire region.
FR. BEN: (thoughtful) I had no clue, I’ve lived in this area for years and have never heard either of those names
AMELIA: Eh. Nobody pays attention to where their food comes from. But yes I’d bet every time you’ve spiked your sodium intake eating those tiny potatoes it was grown on one of their farms.
FR. BEN: And these kids are from those families?
AMELIA: (Sighs) Yes, Roselynn Schultz and Jakob Clausen. The Clausens and the Schultzes would never condone co-mingling with their rivals but the two would see each other once a year at the Salt City Potato Festival. They each have gigantic 1,000 gallon stock pots that stand right next to each other. Roselynn and Jakob had the task of tossing potatoes into boiling pots and would silently communicate with each other. It started with glances, which the next year turned to passing notes, and eventually became sneaking off against their parents' wishes to fall in love.
FR. BEN: That’s quite the story.
AMELIA: Yeah… Our Interviewer thought so too. We’re pretty selective about the clients we take on and normally escaping the family potato farm wouldn’t qualify, but he’s a bit of a romantic and more than a little prone to bardolatry, so the star crossed lovers element left him thoroughly convinced.
FR. BEN: And you didn’t want to help these kids?
AMELIA: Eh, it seemed a bit too on the nose to me, but I wasn’t going to rain on his parade. Plus I knew it would put us relatively close to New York City, so I figured it would allow us to hatch a bit of a birthday surprise for our colleague, Alvina.
FR. BEN: Her birthday was tonight wasn’t it?
AMELIA: Things didn’t go exactly as expected.
FR. BEN: What happened?
AMELIA: We had a great plan. Every year at the potato festival the youngest child of age is tasked with retrieving the prized potatoes from their families’ respective stock pots and this year that task just happened to fall to our love birds. They typically each give a short speech before bringing their potatoes up the steps to the Syracuse Cathedral to be judged.
FR. BEN: (properly confused) ...by God? Gosh I really know nothing about this festival...
AMELIA: No, that’s just where the judges table is, the whole festival happens in the courtyard in front of the church. I do think they were supposed to have the bishop bless the potatoes though... regardless it would never get to that point.
FR. BEN: Why not?
AMELIA: Because the kids would be jumping into the stock pot, pretending to boil themselves to death in front of hundreds of onlookers when in truth we’d designed the stock pots in such a way that they could safely jump into the center without being boiled and then could be snuck into the sewers below.
FR. BEN: Yes, Alvina told me all about that, how you’d swap out their bodies with other cadavers. I’m still … pretty disturbed by the whole concept, but she seemed genuinely proud.
AMELIA: (Laughs) She should be! It was a brilliant design for her to be able to create multiple temperature zones in a single pot without it being noticeable.
(A little sad, sighs)
We’re lucky to have someone like her on board with us.
FR. BEN: And that was the whole plan? The kids jump into the not so boiling water to escape and then you replace them with other bodies of similar height and nobody's the wiser?
AMELIA: (Exhausted) Ugh, I wish... The problem with romantics like these children is they need to layer in unnecessary dramatics to their plan. They wanted their deaths to be a lesson.
FR. BEN: How do you mean?
AMELIA: (Annoyed even thinking about the concept) Their goal was for the stark visual of their deaths to prove to their families how foolish their fighting was, so they decided to write a speech decrying the tensions between their houses.
FR. BEN: And I take it you thought this was a bad idea?
AMELIA: The whole thing was senselessly naive, but stoking the emotions of two groups already teetering on the edge of violence? I made my thoughts clear the second he’d finished the interview and I heard the plan.
FR. BEN: But you went through with it anyway?
AMELIA: (annoyed) Yes, I relented. Like I said, it was the perfect opportunity to surprise Alvina for her birthday. Plus our Interviewer was already swooning over the theater of it all at that point and he convinced me it really didn’t matter how the family responded as long as our job was completed seamlessly. Which it was! ...mostly.
FR. BEN: So what wound up happening there?
[SFX: Sounds of the festival come back in, slight music in the background]
[SFX: the door of a van is slid open]
AMELIA: We arrived at the festival mid-day, our henchmen, Joey and Salvatore,
FR. BEN: (Concerned) Your what?
AMELIA: Oh, sorry, figure of speech, our companions, Joey and Salvatore, had arrived much earlier to replace the two large vats with the special ones Alvina had designed. It was their responsibility to retrieve the teens and insert the replacement bodies.
FR. BEN: I see.
AMELIA: Well, we got a text from them around five in the morning about how uncomfortable they were committing crimes under the shadow of a Cathedral, but my counterpart just replied,
THE INTERVIEWER: I’ll assure the boys we have the perfect plan, no blaspheming will occur today.
FR. BEN: (exasperated sigh) Why do I get the feeling that didn’t end up being the case…
AMELIA: We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Anyway the three of us you’ve met were fanned out amongst the throngs of fanny packs and novelty t-shirts that make up your town’s population. Things were going perfect for the birthday surprise for Alvina. (delighted) We'd hyped up this event as some worldly food festival and she had had this perfect “is this really it?” look on her face.
FR. BEN: Yes, it’s been made very clear to me your organization is a bit more … refined than the (putting emphasis on his words) good people of this area.
AMELIA: I can’t say I’m surprised those two didn’t hold back their food reviews.
FR. BEN: So what happened with the festival?
AMELIA: Ugh, I can only tell you about what happened from my perspective. After walking around a bit, I found myself a good view of the events next to a cotton candy vendor who was - unsurprisingly - getting very few customers.
FR. BEN: Wait, was it (fearing the worst) ….salt potato flavored cotton candy?
AMELIA: (hums in agreement) One person came by and purchased a stick. The vendor even dipped the thing in butter which created what appeared to be a textural nightmare.
FR. BEN: I shudder at the thought of that honestly.
AMELIA: Anyway, my view was great for the competition itself. I was on the opposite side of the courtyard facing the front of the cathedral. Just down the steps was a large stage hovering … 15 feet in the air, right behind the two gigantic boiling vats of potatoes. I watched as members of the Clausens and the Schultzes would approach their respective pots with large fishing nets, reaching down, securing a load of cooked salt potatoes to serve to the hungry throngs below. You could tell things between them were already reaching... For lack of a better word... A boiling point.
FR. BEN: How so?
AMELIA: The tight postures and nervous looks shared between Roselynn and Jacob when members of their opposite families would be on the stage at the same time were a dead giveaway. Plus strangely, their parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, and cousins all had what appeared to be t-shirt cannons holstered on their belts!
FR. BEN: What? Like the ones you’d see at a minor league baseball game?
AMELIA: Exactly, and when they’d get to the stage they would constantly be hovering their hands over them. I wasn’t sure of their purpose right away, but we were at a tipping point for sure, and it was pretty clear all anyone there needed was a gentle push for chaos to ensue.
FR. BEN: So what happened?
AMELIA: (Matter of fact) We pushed.
FR. BEN: (Concerned) I see
AMELIA: The nervous hostility all around us only confirmed my earlier concerns about the plan.
[SFX: Background sounds fade out]
AMELIA: Still, I pridefully decided not to express them again and figured that there was no point in stopping it, given that everything was already in motion.
FR. BEN: And you regret that now?
AMELIA: Given what happened next… I do, Father.
FR. BEN: Go on...
AMELIA: After about 30 minutes or so it was time for the kids' big moment.
[SFX: The sound of boiling water creeps in.]
AMELIA: They climb the stairs to the elevated stage and stand above each of their respective stock pots. Traditionally it’s the winning family from the year before who gathers their potatoes and give the first speech. This year, that was set to be Rosalynn, so I watched as the hundred or so members of the Clausen family turned their backs to the stage in disgust.
[SFX: Quiet sounds of a disgusted crowd in the background]
AMELIA: Then there were gasps from the crowd as both of their voices began speaking the same speech in unison.
[SFX: Amelia briefly drops away for a moment as the sounds of the festival creep back in. There are stray, shocked gasps from family members before they begin.]
ROSELYNN AND JACOB: To my family. I love and appreciate the life you have given me, but it is time I express myself to you. The person you see standing beside me is the love of my life. We were able to find magic within the dark world you have created through the tension between our two houses. Still, the anger you have has sprouted like poisonous flowers, choking our freedom and dreams to a point we no longer see a path toward the sun. It is our final wish that our ends can form a new beginning for all of you, let the salt in your potato hearts dissipate and be replaced with the candied sugar, like so many sweet potatoes.
AMELIA: The disturbing flatness of their voices as they spoke their words left the entire crowd in stunned silence. The Clausen’s turned around, mouths agape, for a brief moment allowing them to appear as a single body with the Schultzes, shocked, horrified at seeing the best among them so in concert with the other that they deemed evil. The speech only lasted about a minute but given how frozen the bustling event had become it felt like hours, and then… They jumped.
[SFX: Bodies dropping into the water]
[SFX: Sounds of the shocked crowd, shouts of ‘no’, screams, dramatic music in the background]
AMELIA: There was a desperate scream from members of both families as the kids fell into the water and then… just the sound of boiling potatoes.
[SFX: Dramatic music and sounds of boiling water fade out]
FR. BEN: (quietly) Jesus, then what happened?
AMELIA: After a couple seconds of shock Clausens and Schultzes alike rushed to the stage, peering down into the boiling water. It had been more than enough time for Joey and Salvatore to replace the bodies so all anyone saw were two boiled corpses face down amongst hundreds of potatoes.
[SFX: There are genuine screams of wailing horror, crying, screaming.]
AMELIA: Wailing began in front of both boiling pots and then after a moment shouts of blame came from the Clausen family, which were quickly returned by the Schultzes.
[SFX: Amelia fades out]
A PERSON: You did this you stupid spud!
ANOTHER PERSON: Why don’t you come here and say this to my face you worthless sack of yams!
[SFX: Sounds of hitting, slapping, yelling, screaming]
AMELIA: It only took about 60 seconds between the kids jumping in the water to the first punch being thrown.
FR. BEN: (disbelieving) A fight broke out?
AMELIA: It started that way yes, and I wish it ended there. Fists thrown, potato farmers being tossed from the stage, I saw one man put what looked like his teenage son in a potato sack and hurl him at the enemy family, knocking them over like bowling pins.
[SFX: Heavy objects hitting, falling, shouting of people, fighting-sounds continue]
FR. BEN: My god, that sounds horrifying.
AMELIA: Oh, that was only the beginning, remember those t-shirt cannons I told you about?
FR. BEN: Yes…
[SFX: They fade out, we only hear the festival sounds now]
Person A: ...activating mayday protocol!
Person B: Really?!
Person A: No, I don’t even know what that means, I… just… just shoot the potatoes at ‘em!
Person B: Okay!
[SFX: Amelia and Father Ben again]
AMELIA: I watched dumbfounded as both families began loading them with boiling hot salt potatoes.
FR. BEN: Seriously…?
[SFX: We begin to hear the knowing thunk of a potato gun.]
AMELIA: Do you know what happens, Father, when you are hit by a boiling hot salted tuber at 100 miles an hour?
FR. BEN: (Horrified) I can’t say I do…
[SFX: more sounds of fighting, a wet hitting sound, crowd cheering, T-shirt cannons being loaded and shot,]
AMELIA: (distant) I can still hear the screams… All around me people were dropping like flies, some burned, others badly bruised. Concessions stands began crashing down around me as potatoes rocketed people off their feet and into them.. Everyone started scrambling toward the church steps to get to higher ground, but that just brought the fighting outside and eventually into the cathedral.
FR. BEN: They were fighting inside the cathedral? The Bishop must have been beside himself!
[SFX: As the story continues, more potato guns are added, until we hear what is a cacophony of potatoes shattering glass and sending rubble crashing to the floor of the church.]
AMELIA: Potatoes were flying everywhere. I scrambled with the crowd trying to protect myself from the carnage, but got close enough to have a view inside. Stained glass windows were shattered, angelic statues crashing down from the ceiling, decoratively hand-crafted wrought iron rusting instantly from the extreme contact with salt. The entire cathedral was encrusted in such an absurd amount of starch that I can’t imagine a power washer powerful enough to ever get that place clean.
[SFX: Sounds fade out with a last potato-cannon shot]
FR. BEN: My God...
AMELIA: The fighting lasted for about an hour before potato supplies began to run out and… and things were finally broken up. The families and spectators scrambled to their sides of the city leaving behind hundreds injured and millions of dollars in property damage.
FR. BEN: That sounds horrible, was everyone you were with alright?
AMELIA: We all got out physically fine at least. Well, the man you’d met earlier tonight did take a potato to the gut, but mostly just complained about having to get his suit vest dry cleaned. Emotionally though, this sent our colleagues Joey and Salvatore into a bit of a fit. They’ve never been ones to scold us for the delicate nature of our work, but they were furious about the damage to the church, and were genuinely shaken about what it would mean for the state of our souls.
FR. BEN: And they insisted you come to confess?
[MUSIC: Heartwarming Forgive Me! ending music starts playing]
AMELIA: Exactly. And, like I said I’ve been feeling about this whole thing so… as skeptical as I was, I’m glad I’m here talking this through with you.
FR. BEN: I’m glad to hear it. Honestly, there’s a lot about what you’re talking about I don’t understand, but I appreciate you being honest and expressing yourself openly here. What your organization does is… concerning… and in the eyes of the church this level of lawbreaking is certainly not something we condone. That said, I think it’s admirable for you to see your own responsibility in these actions and I think with some penance I’d be happy to provide some absolution.
[SFX: The music cuts off abruptly.]
AMELIA: Excuse me, Father, I actually haven’t confessed to my sin yet.
FR. BEN: You haven’t?
AMELIA: No, not yet.
FR. BEN: (baffled) What about the- the- all the injuries? The damage to the Cathedral?!
AMELIA: I admit that’s all partially my fault, but I don’t feel bad about any of that?
FR. BEN: (Shocked) What?! How do you not feel bad about that?!
AMELIA: People like the Clausens and the Schultzes, that pass their grudges down generation by generation like a worn pair of gardening shears? They were just looking for an excuse to have it out like that, a gust of wind in the wrong direction would have created the same problem. I don’t feel bad about the inevitable happening and making two young romantics happier in the process. Plus as payment the kids each gave us a case of their families’ priceless collections of rare potato vodkas which I will be drinking as soon as I return to forget that this weekend ever happened.
FR. BEN: I have to say that’s a really dark outlook on the situation.
AMELIA: I think it’s more of an honest one.
FR. BEN: So, what do you feel bad about?
AMELIA: Alvina.
FR. BEN: What about her?
AMELIA: The birthday surprise! It was ruined. The entire city of Syracuse went on lockdown - so I couldn’t get to my plane at the airport. We even tried to board a train, which didn’t work, but even if it had, we’d never have made it in time. I’d gotten us 6pm reservations at Le Bernardin before an 8pm showing of that big musical that came out last year.
FR. BEN: Hamilton?
AMELIA: No, Fiddler on the Roof. Yes, of course Hamilton!
FR. BEN: Fancy gift.
AMELIA: (upset) And my pride ruined it! I should have known better, called off the disappearance when I saw things going sideways. (getting more and more upset) Now Alvina is sitting in a Van, thinking we brought her here on her birthday to eat salt potato funnel cake and watch an imitation gothic cathedral be leveled to the ground!
FR. BEN: Wait. So you don’t feel guilty over the hundreds of people who were injured today but you do feel badly that your surprise birthday plan was ruined?
AMELIA: (still upset) I don’t love your tone, Father, but yes that’s right.
FR. BEN: You people are genuinely terrifying.
AMELIA: (chill) Yeah, we get that a lot.
FR. BEN: Why couldn’t you just go tomorrow?
AMELIA: To what?
FR. BEN: The dinner and the show.
AMELIA: (Laughs humorlessly) To Le Bernidin and Hamilton?! You think I could just call and ask them to move us to tomorrow? Ugh, you really have to get out more, Father.
FR. BEN: Ok so maybe that won’t work. But are you just going to abandon the whole plan then?
AMELIA: (exasperated sigh) Not much else we can do at this point.
FR. BEN: Without giving anything away I can tell you from my conversation with her that I don’t honestly think it’d take that much for Alvina to feel appreciated.
AMELIA: She deserves something nice though…
FR. BEN: So give her something nice! Look it’s not going to compare to Le Bernidin but given it’s now… (surprised) 5:30 in the morning… I can tell you there’s a nice woman named Lexi down on main street who opens her Donut shop at 6am. They’re a hell of a lot better than salt potatoes and probably the best tasting thing between here and New York City. Take her there.
AMELIA: Alvina does love a pastry… you know, that’s a genuinely helpful idea. Thank you.
FR. BEN: Like I said, you all scare the crap out of me and while I do hope you come to realize that facilitating the kind of destruction you did is wrong, it's nice that you care so much about your friend and want to do right by her.
AMELIA: I appreciate that Father, thanks for the talk.
FR. BEN: (sighs) Anytime, well, hopefully not in the middle of the night next time?
[SFX: Screen door opens]
AMELIA: Ha, no promises, and Father?
FR. BEN: Yes?
AMELIA: He told me a bit about your life… if you ever change your mind about wanting a way out… don’t hesitate to give us a call.
[SFX: The screen door opens]
[SFX: Silence before:]
EPILOGUE:
[We return to the sound of the idling van.]
ALVINA: Can we please make our way home now. Where did Amelia need to go anyway?
THE INTERVIEWER: (Knowingly) She said she just needed to stop by a shop for a moment)
[SFX: The door to the van opens again.]
AMELIA + THE INTERVIEWER: Happy Birthday!!
ALVINA: What?! Oh you guys you shouldn’t have! What are these?
AMELIA: Fresh donuts from a bakery our priestly friend recommended.
THE INTERVIEWER: Oh well then I wouldn’t be so...
[SFX: The Interviewer takes a bite mid thought.]
THE INTERVIEWER: Oh my…
ALVINA: (fearful) What oh oh oh, are they awful?
THE INTERVIEWER: (In ecstasy) Oh no, quite the opposite, this is a genuine delight. Try the glazed!
ALVINA: Ok here it goes… (sounds of delight) oh, dear GOD, I feel like this could give me a heart attack but it is incredible
AMELIA: Alright, let me have one of these.
ALVINA: Thank you guys.
AMELIA: (surprised) For what?
ALVINA: For a truly memorable birthday
AMELIA: Of course Alvina, we really appreciate everything you do for us.
THE INTERVIEWER: Oh, Yuck!
AMELIA: (Annoyed) What is it?
THE INTERVIEWER: What awful flavor is this?
AMELIA: Oh! She threw that one in free, it was left over from the festival.
THE INTERVIEWER: A salt potato donut? What is wrong with these people?!
ALVINA: Seriously, how can you have a festival and only serve potatoes?
AMELIA: Oh, did you try the soda?
THE INTERVIEWER: I did, honestly... not too bad.
ALVINA: I thought the same thing! Maybe we should pick some up for back at the office.
THE INTERVIEWER: (flatly) Amelia, can you please drive us to the airport before Alvina loses all of her senses.
AMELIA: I thought you’d never ask.
[SFX: Amelia puts the car into drive and speeds away]
[MUSIC: Credits Music]
ADAM RAYMONDA: Forgive Amelia - A Triptych is a production from Imploding Fictions and Rogue Dialogue. This episode was written and directed by Jack Marone and Bob Raymonda. Story editing by Philip Thorne and Øystein Brager.
Here’s our cast in order of appearance:
Julia Morizawa - Amelia
Casey Callaghan - Father Ben
Lindsay Zana - Roselynn
Julia C. Thorne - Alvina
Alan Burgon - The Interviewer
Additional voices from:
Bob Raymonda
Alan Burgon
Johanna Ginsberg
Torgny G. Aanderaa
Adam Raymonda
The Amelia Project theme song composed by Fredrik Baden.
Music arrangement, composition, sound design and mixing for this episode by me, Adam Raymonda.
Production assistance from Maty Parzival. All of the graphic design for this crossover series comes from Sam Twardy and Anders Pedersen.
Thank you for listening to the final installment of our crossover series. As a reminder, we did livestreamed performances of all three episodes, if you missed them, don’t worry, you can watch a replay of the stream by supporting the Amelia Project or Forgive Me! on Patreon. To become a Patron of the Amelia Project, head over to patreon.com/ameliapodcast, and to support Forgive Me!, make your way over to patreon.com/roguedialogue. Making these episodes was an absolute blast, we hope you enjoyed them, thanks for listening!
[MUSIC: Music plays and fades out]