The Gentleman From Hell |S1| Ep. 20

Rusty Quill presents

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You check your feed and your account.

You check the score and the restaurant reviews.

You check your hair and reflective surfaces and the world around you for recession indicators.

So you check all that, but you don't check to see what your ride options are.

In this economy, Next next time, check Lyft.

I think

Excuse me, ladies, but uh, you two wouldn't happen to be the Ingersoll sisters, would you?

Half sisters.

And are you pretending this was just a happy coincidence?

Or are you going to admit to following us aboard to get an interview?

I didn't know you were famous enough to spot a reporter yet.

But if you wouldn't mind me asking a few questions, I can tell you that our audience would certainly be grateful.

And just exactly who are you writing for, if you don't mind me asking?

Sure.

I write for a podcast called Scientifically Curious.

We.

We are quite familiar.

You recently claimed to have successfully debunked our machine's demonstration in Open Cart.

Apparently, the slew of scientists and engineers the defense brought in to do the same thing and failed wasn't enough for you.

Well, I suppose we just wonder if Mr.

Whittle's defense team might have been better served bringing in magicians rather than scientists.

Folks a little better versed at spotting deliberate deception.

Mr.

Whittle is, or was, a magician.

And he failed to discover a single irregularity when we answered his million-dollar challenge of proving the paranormal.

Just how many times do you need an animal to quack before you finally admit it's a dunk?

Maybe after the animal's been exposed to more thorough scrutiny and for a longer period of time than a few hours.

You did, after all, refuse to submit your device.

Um,

what do you call it again?

You came all this way to bug us, and you don't know that it's called the parasonic resonator.

That's right.

Um, well, after your big caught win you refused to have your uh parasonic resonator examined by the Galen City College of Engineers, which you sort of have to admit doesn't exactly look good for your credibility now, does it?

Mr.

Tom.

Tom Watts.

Well, Mr.

Watts

We earn several patents concerning the technology responsible for the resonator.

Thus, we have a financial incentive to keep our innovations to ourselves.

It was bad enough to have Whittle scientists crawling all over it.

Unless there's a cool mill to be made, isn't that right?

Whittle publicly made the bet, and then squelched on it.

We had a right to what was owed, plain and simple.

And uh, I don't know if you noticed, but Whittle hasn't even tried to appeal a decision.

Should tell you something, shouldn't it?

Well, I'm not the one you need to convince.

But putting all that aside, I wonder if you could tell me where you're bound for.

I couldn't help but notice that you had quite a big object packed onto the train.

Wouldn't happen to be that resonator of yours, would it?

That's very astute of you, Mr.

Watts.

Seems you've been doing a little more than pretending to bump into us on a train.

Come on, you two did effectively win a case that hinged on proving the paranormal.

So does it really surprise you that someone like me might come poking around?

You think you're the first reporter we've had to deal with?

You're just the rudest.

At any rate, our destination is irrelevant to you.

So please, if you would be so kind, return to your seat.

Sure, but we're coming pretty close to the lost city of Coldsparrow.

I was just thinking.

Correction.

You were just leaving.

Enjoy the rest of your trip, Mr.

Watts.

Okay, have it your way.

Just thought you

what the

birds of some kind.

They must have flown into the path of the train by accident.

Poor things.

I can't believe that asshole.

Walking right up to us and practically calling us frauds to our faces.

You didn't think winning a famous bet and then an even more famous cart case would change anyone's mind, did you?

I suppose not.

But maybe if they'd behave more like skeptics and less like assholes.

I don't know.

I rather prefer the crude approach.

It's much better than the slimy bootlickers Big Tech's been sending to meet with us.

They act that way because they actually believe us.

Funny how the minute money is involved, skepticism goes out the window.

Oh, if we can solve the great mystery of Cold Sparrow, that should turn them all into slimy bootlickers.

Just imagine how wonderful that would be.

I'd rather imagine Whittle's face after the machine scores another win.

Speaking of which, did you know that little prick called out Phyllis Chambers after the agent she worked with said she led them to the solders?

No, I did not.

Did she accept the big million dollar challenge?

Never even acknowledged the offer.

That's because, unlike us, she's a right and proper lady.

I wonder how her and the machine will get along.

Far better, I hope, than poor Mr.

Brennan.

But I suspect he was a much less disciplined clairvoyant than Miss Chambers.

That reminds me.

I made some adjustments to the resonating chamber.

I added a dampener.

That way, there's no more sonic booms out of nowhere.

I'm sure Mr.

Brennan would have appreciated that.

What can I say?

Innovation moves at its own pace.

Oh, would you get a load of this place?

Certainly has all of the charms of a lost city, doesn't it?

I must have seen a dozen shows and documentaries about this place.

So weird to finally be here.

Almost doesn't seem real.

If ever there was a place made for the Resonator, it's definitely called Sparrah.

Wonder what she'd pick up if we set up right here.

In the middle of all this.

I doubt dropping her in the middle of the street is the best idea.

It's far too unbound.

She requires cheeseled boarders.

A place to concentrate.

That must be Vere's mansion up there.

Hughes wasn't kidding when he said it wouldn't be hard to spot.

Place looks more like a castle than a mansion.

The rich do enjoy showcasing their opulence, don't they?

I wouldn't talk if I were you.

I was fine with the old panel truck.

It was you that wanted to rent this expensive monstrosity.

We want to be taken seriously now, don't we?

We would rather keep expenses to a minimum so we can continue to improve the resonator.

You know, the only reason we have any money to begin with.

Father always said you were too practical.

Well, that's why the only thing dad left us was that crumbly house with a hole in the roof.

He could have used a little practicality.

Looks like our new colleagues are home, as I assume those vehicles out front belong to them.

Look right there.

Are those bullet holes in that van?

They certainly seem to be.

Let's hope they're just souvenirs from their FBI days.

Huh?

Are you prepared for this?

Let's go meet the rest of the team.

Here goes nothing

Someone just peeked out from that window over there furtive bunch

Hey there something I can help you folks with I hope so we're the Ingersolls mister Hughes sent us to help you with your investigation.

Oh, that's great.

Uh, please come on in.

Hey, Leon, we got company.

You are done.

We've been hoping someone would show soon.

I'm Mace, uh, Mason, Mason Rhodes.

Most people just call me Mace, though.

Nice to meet you.

This is my sister Margaret, and I'm Patricia.

You can call me Pat.

You, however, may not call me Marge.

And it's a pleasure to meet you, Mace.

Oh,

hello.

This is Leon Oates, and these ladies are the Ingersolls, the folks Mr.

Hughes sent to help us out.

Ingersoll?

You wouldn't happen to be the same Ingersolls who proved in court that.

The very same.

I'm Margaret, and this is my sister, Patricia.

Or Pat, as she's won't be called.

Uh, you guys know each other?

You gotta forgive old Mace here.

He stopped keeping up with current events once they stopped chucking rolled-up newspapers at his door.

Kids funny, ain't he?

And of course, we've heard of you two.

But isn't there a third?

Miss Chambers?

Uh, yeah,

but she's not feeling very well at the moment.

See, uh, we ran into some trouble a few days ago, and uh.

Oh, Jesus, I don't even know where to start with all this.

Well,

perhaps we might all just sit down and get acquainted, shall we?

Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.

Coffee?

sounds good to everyone?

Coffee sounds marvelous.

I followed this thing into the woods, and when it finally stopped, I could see it was a goddamn hyena.

We must have emptied enough rounds to kill a fucking elephant, and it didn't do a thing.

Not a goddamn thing

it was like they were right outside the door calling to me mocking me all i could do was sit there and try to keep it together

seem to have somehow entered the past i mean we could actually see that dead city

isabel

And like we said, there's some kind of cult involved in all this, so, you know, I just don't know how safe it is to be here.

But you've never actually seen them.

Not once.

Well, Phil seemed to, you know, psychically see them when they took Harmon's brother.

But that was about it.

And they left us that Polaroid we told you about.

David said he saw him sitting in cars outside his and Alex's places, but we've personally seen Nada.

Well, when I heard strange voices and decided to investigate, the last people I thought I'd encounter would be the Ingersoll sisters.

Phil, you sure you're okay to be up and about?

Yes, I am.

It's high time I left that bedroom.

Well, in that case, your usual.

One cup of hot tea, please, and thank you.

You got it.

Miss Chambers.

Oh, it's an honor to meet you.

It surely is.

We've followed your work for some time.

Oh, please, please, sit down.

When Mr.

Hughes said he'd be sending us the very best, he certainly wasn't joking.

These gentlemen were just filling us in on all the details of the case.

It's.

well, it's extraordinary, isn't it?

That's one word for it, though perhaps not the one I'd use.

Have you ever encountered anything like this before?

Nothing.

In all my years, I can't say I've even heard of anything like what we've encountered here.

What about the two of you?

What do you make of all this?

Well, although the scope of this phenomenon is far greater than anything I've ever heard of, or even read about, it does resemble a classic demonic possession.

We have objects teleporting, the smell of sulfur, inhuman creatures, and possibly even transformative experiences tied to damnation.

The only twist is that the possession appears to concern an entire town rather than a single person.

Hmm.

And there's also the widespread disappearances.

I mean, in a typical possession, it ends either with the victim's death or with the entity being driven out, which usually triggers the victim's spiritual conversion.

So it's not a perfect match.

The only thing I can think of that even comes close, in scale at any rate, is the Grove City possessions of 1922.

Hmm, I've never heard of them.

What happened?

Supposedly, a priest under the sway of a demon used his various uh

bodily fluids to change the communion wafers, wine, and holy water of the small town's one and only church.

Apparently, not long after he began doing this, quite a few members of the congregation became demonically possessed.

The story goes that the Vatican sent a fleet of exorcists to properly deal with the problem, which included burning the church to the ground.

They sure got a thing for burning stuff.

Here's your tea, Phil.

Ah, always to the rescue.

I see you two came in a van.

Did you bring what I think you brought?

She's in there, all right.

In fact, we were hoping we might get some help bringing her in.

You got it.

So I assume this is the machine Leon was talking about?

The Parasonic Resonator.

The one and only.

Alright then, let's get started before the caffeine wears off and we all crash for the next 24 hours.

So, you're gonna be okay till we get back?

Should only be a few.

Ah, I'm feeling much better, especially now that we finally have some help.

But

I still think I might come out and watch from the porch.

Just supervise, of course.

Sounds like a plan.

When we're done, I'll fix him some breakfast before I hit the hay.

Well, Leene was a fool for ever letting you go, good sir.

Can I get that in writing?

I'll even have it notarized.

Okay,

let's put it down right here.

Sounds good.

There we are.

All said.

How did you two even get it loaded in the truck?

Oh, a few kind gentlemen at the station offered a hand.

Well, offered a hand after we slipped him fifty bucks apiece, that is.

No worries.

We'll only charge you 40.

Well, let me just take all the bubble wrap and whatnot off, and.

Voila, the parasonic resonator, in all her mechanical glory.

I can't recall ever seeing a proper photo of this thing.

Just those crummy courtroom sketches.

Kind of looks like a mashup between a musical instrument and a suit-up car engine.

She's all business.

Strictly built for necessity.

No fancy frills whatsoever.

I recall reading an interview in which you both described how the machine operates, although I must admit it exceeded my level of expertise.

Might I trouble you for a simplified explanation of precisely how it works?

Oh no.

My sister's ultimate weakness.

Making anything understandable.

If you can follow her explanation, trust me.

She's completely crushed.

As you might have guessed, Pat's the engineer and I'm the theorist.

She absolutely abhors anything that isn't tractable to a monkey wrench.

Now that I can relate to.

I'm sure everyone has heard of the idea that, according to some interpretations of quantum mechanics, reality doesn't exist unless we observe it.

Well, our machine offers a glimpse into why that might be.

By one line of reasoning, consciousness itself helps bind reality together.

Our device emits a specific sound, along with a corresponding electromagnetic field, that synchronizes the minds of those nearby.

amplifying their collective consciousness.

This heightened awareness further solidifies reality, allowing information that would otherwise remain hidden to become detectable by the human senses.

When you say hidden information, I presume you mean ghosts and the like?

Exactly.

So, when you demonstrated the resonator to the jury, you showed them dead people?

Well, not quite dead people, but something like that.

Oh, you should have seen the looks on their faces.

So, how the fuck the pardon I like much?

I mean, how the hell isn't everyone and their mother after you were for this thing?

It's gotta be worth a fortune.

Because science doesn't like gate crashers, we've been more or less relegated to the category of fringe science, and our little court demonstration nothing more than a highly sophisticated means of inducing hallucinations.

I would think that alone should get you some juicy government contracts.

Oh, we've had more than our fair share of interested parties, don't you worry.

The military-industrial complex was definitely taking notes on the case, but we aren't interested in that sort of attention.

And then there's the fact that the machine doesn't always work.

At least, not as intended.

We've still got a few bugs to squash before it's ready to woo the world.

I'll be thrilled if it can finally put us ahead of whatever we've been tangled up in.

We've been going around in circles ever since we got here.

Here's hoping.

They're up there, all right, Gary.

That's the van they drove off in when they got off the train.

Don't know about the other vehicles, though.

When we head back into town, we can look the plates up online.

See what comes up.

Give me those binos for a second, Tom.

I want to check something.

What are you looking that way for?

Thought I saw something.

What sort of something?

Looked like a big fucking dog.

Could have been anything.

There's deer and bear and all other kinds of shit out this far.

You hear that?

Probably just a deer, like I said.

That don't sound like no deer to me.

Let's get out of here.

Just to be on the safe side.

We'll come back tomorrow.

Scout out a place where we can lay low.

Maybe snap a few pics of the ladies doing their weird science thing.

Good idea.

The Gentleman from Hell is a Maltopia production.

Today's episode was written by Mark Anzalone and performed by Stephen Zivik, Sam Stark, Aubrey Akers, Jesse Van Hove, Callie Baer, and Matt Van Hove.

Sound editing was completed by Stephen Ansloan, and script editing was conducted by Walker Kornfeld.

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You check your feed and your account.

You check the score and the restaurant reviews.

You check your hair and reflective surfaces and the world around you for recession indicators.

So you check all that, but you don't check to see what your ride options are.

In this economy, Next time, check lift.