Unlicensed Ep 3 - Big Game

Here's something I say a lot, but it's just the truth.

We couldn't make this show without our Patreon.

It is by far the biggest way we are able to pay everyone working on the show, from the writers to the actors, to Jessica, who does original artwork for every single episode, to Joella, who does all the back-end business stuff.

All of these people are able to pay their bills, and we are all able to put out the show because of our Patreon.

We try to give some cool rewards as a thank you.

Four bonus episodes a year that are not released on the main feed, ad-free versions of our episodes, monthly Zoom hangouts with the Nightfall Writers, director's notes on every episode, a brand new book club we are launching led by the Nightfall Writers, and even the chance for you to appear in future Nightfall episodes as a character.

So, all of that is there, but also just the knowledge that this thing exists in the world that otherwise wouldn't, and you are part of that.

So, consider heading to welcometonightvale.com and clicking on Patreon and becoming a patron or upgrading your existing membership.

We deeply, truly appreciate it.

Thank you.

Summer is turning to fall, which frankly, rude of summer to do, but don't worry.

Quince is here with fall staples that will last for many falls to come.

We're talking cashmere, denim.

This is quality that holds up at a price that you frankly just won't believe.

We're talking super soft, 100% Mongolian cashmere sweaters, which sounds like the kind of item that you need a credit check to even imagine, and it starts at just $60.

Plus, Quince partners directly with Ethical Factories, so you get top-tier fabrics and craftsmanship at half the price.

I got an adorable dress for my daughter, which she helped pick out.

She wore it at her first day of school.

She loves that dress.

It has pockets, if you know, you know.

I also got myself a mulberry silk sleeping mask, and every night since has been a luxury, I have never gotten better sleep than with mulberry silk draped upon my eyes.

Experience what it must be like to be wealthy without having to, you know, have a bank account that doesn't make you wince when you check it.

Keep it classic and cool this fall with long-lasting staples from Quince.

Go to quince.com/slash nightfail for free shipping on your order and 365-day returns.

That's quince.com/slash nightfail.

Free shipping and 365-day returns.

Quince.com/slash nightfail.

Unlicensed, the new show from Nightfale, has been out for two weeks, and today we are presenting the final free episode that will appear on this feed.

This is the third episode of Unlicensed.

After that, you will have to head over to audible.com slash unlicensed and get that free trial going to hear all 12 episodes.

I cannot express what this show means to me, what a joy it was to make, and how excited I am for you all to hear it.

This episode, I should mention, features, along with Molly Quinn, Lucia Stress, and T.L.

Thompson, the voice of James Rubaniak, which you might recognize as Leonard Burton from Night Vale, or Dr.

Venture from The Venture Brothers, among many, many other roles.

As I've said before, feel free to use your free trial to listen to this show.

However, there are a ton of other really interesting shows on Audible, and so I will be sharing some of my recommendations of other Audible shows after this episode if you want to stick around and hear something about some of the shows that I've enjoyed over there.

Get your free trial of Audible and listen to the entire first season of Unlicensed right now at audible.com/slash unlicensed.

That's audible.com/slash unlicensed to listen to all 12 episodes of this show right now.

And now, here is episode 3 of Unlicensed.

Enjoy!

Welcome to the the Oak Spring Wildlife Sanctuary.

During your guided audio tour, please observe the following rules to ensure the park remains a safe and happy experience for visitors and resident wildlife alike.

Please do not touch the perimeter.

It is electrified at a high voltage.

Please keep your voices low.

Raised voices can provoke the animals.

Please avoid direct eye contact.

Some creatures may perceive this as a threat.

If you have any questions or if there is an emergency, look for one of our volunteers in the khaki uniforms.

Now, let's go meet the animals.

Unlicensed, episode three:

Big Game.

I feel like I've fallen through a portal and ended up in an African savannah.

Like that Ray Bradbury story with the virtual reality lions in the children's nursery.

But this isn't VR.

The enormous animal in front of Lou's car takes a few steps towards us, smelling the air, then changes course and slinks away down the embankment.

I know I'm new in town, I say,

but that's not normal, right?

Lou doesn't answer.

She turns off the car and gets out.

Lou?

I shout.

She walks to the edge of the embankment, peering down into the brush where the animal disappeared.

Excuse me?

A breathless man wheezes.

His voice startles us both.

He wears a khaki uniform and carries an air rifle.

Weird question, he says.

But did you see a lion come through here?

He went that away, Lou Lou says dryly, indicating the direction.

You're not gonna hurt him, are you?

I ask, opening my door a crack.

No, ma'am.

This is just sedative.

He escaped from the sanctuary and we're trying to bring him home, that's all.

How do you lose a lion?

Lou asks him.

Right?

That's the second one this week, he says exasperated.

Then, looking suddenly panicked, he adds, Please don't tell anyone that.

We'll We'll round them both up soon.

Confidentiality is my business, Lou assures him.

She hands him her card.

I've seen these cards.

They have her name and phone number on them, and that's it.

I'm a private investigator, she tells him.

We find lost things.

If you need any help with your lions, give us a call.

We.

Us.

Lou uses these pronouns as shorthand, perhaps to assure the man that I will also keep his secret, or perhaps to make the organization sound bigger than it is.

But I like the feeling it gives me.

We're a team, she and I.

The man pockets the card, a bit taken aback.

Okay,

thanks, he says, then continues his safari into the canyon.

I didn't sign up for big game hunting, I say.

Then I add.

Did I?

Relax, Lou says, getting back in the car.

I give my card out to lots of people.

Only like 1% ever call.

I have to execute a 10-point turn in the narrow road so Molly and I don't end up in the ditch, but eventually we're headed back down the hill.

The new kid seems relieved.

She thinks the van chase is over.

I'm not ready to give up just yet.

I rarely lose someone I'm tailing, and it's starting to annoy me, but I'm hungry.

So I pull in at a little cafe stationed stationed at the main entrance to the canyon sign says it's called the ranch side dinner break i tell her we get a window table to keep an eye on the road this is the only way from the canyon to the freeway if the van comes back down i'll see it i've never been to a restaurant like this molly says i glance down at the menu for the first time It features a selection of Mexican, Ethiopian, and American diner food.

Way too many items for such a small cafe.

I decide on Doro Watt and a side of tacos.

Molly gets a waffle.

I see a pickup truck.

Then a Prius.

This is the best waffle I've ever tasted.

She says, as if she's surprised.

Fresh from small-town Nevada, she hasn't yet learned that LA's best food is often in its least promising strip malls.

I nod, still watching the road.

A Mazda.

Uh...

Looks like a Kia?

A jeep.

Hey, can I try your thing?

I nod again, sliding my plate towards her.

A Tesla.

And then

nothing.

The road is empty for so long, a coyote darts across it.

Finally, I call Kaylee.

She tells me that Preston, or rather the boy who looks like Preston, returned home a short time ago.

I don't know where where that kid went or how he got back, but there's definitely something going on.

I don't like it.

We'll keep working on it, I assure Kaylee.

We return to the car.

I put the Small Town Stranger podcast back on for Molly so she can relax to the forensic details of blood spatter and rigor mortise on the long journey back to the office.

It's fully dark by the time we get back to Azusa.

I pull up next to Molly's car so she can get started for home.

Oh, God,

I have to get back on the freeway, don't I?

She whispers with a fresh dread of an LA newbie.

You need to develop traffic fatalism, I tell her.

Before I can explain the gridlock must be accepted as a way of life or one will soon find themselves in a psychological crisis, my phone rings.

It's the owner of Oak Spring Wildlife Sanctuary, the place that lost the lions.

I answer and after a couple of minutes on the phone, agree to help them.

We're tracking missing lions now?

Molly asks after I'm off the call.

Really?

Not exactly, I say.

Ryan Meeks, 23, a former volunteer for Oak Spring Wildlife Sanctuary, is suing the organization for damages.

He sustained an injury in the first lion escape, which has affected his ability to work.

The organization is willing to pay workers' compensation, but Meeks believes a larger settlement is justified.

He claims Oak Spring was negligent in their safety procedures, which caused the incident to occur.

The sanctuary believes Meeks was doing something against regulations, which led to the lion's escape and ultimately Meeks' injury.

Now, the county is threatening to shut the entire organization down if they don't get the matter settled quickly.

And quietly.

Quietly is key.

We caught the male lion yesterday, but the female is still missing.

Carrie Evans, director of Oak Spring, briefs us as we walk through the fenced grassland plains the next day.

That is definitely not public knowledge, she adds.

That alone would be enough to shut us down.

A leopard lounges in the dirt behind the perimeter, occasionally rolling around in the dust.

Another sleeps partially hidden in the branches of a sycamore.

Non-disclosure seems like a danger to the community, I say.

We don't believe so, Carrie says.

She's one of our older cats, very gentle.

Not in the best health either, unfortunately.

Certainly, the native mountain lions around here pose more of a threat to the neighborhood pets and so forth.

But Ryan Meeks claims to have been injured during the escape.

Did this gentle, elderly lion attack him?

Lou asks.

That's what he says, Carrie admits.

But it's hard to imagine.

You think he's lying, Lou says.

Carrie hesitates before carefully crafting her response.

Then she says,

He's always been a very dedicated worker.

Good with the cats.

The whole incident is a shock to everyone.

We enter the shade of a wooded compound.

A panther prowls the fence line as we walk by, yellow eyes flashing, body almost close enough to touch.

Any witnesses to the incident?

Lou asks.

I can give you the contact info for our landscaper, Carrie says.

He was working near the enclosure when it happened.

His name's J.R.

Greenwood.

Lou takes the landscaper's number and address, as well as that of Ryan Meeks.

I'll forward you a copy of Ryan's medical report too, Carrie says, taking her phone out.

It has the expense breakdown.

We stop near the open range of the lion enclosure.

Several females and a male congregate in the distance.

I can see a stain of red in the male's mane.

Feeding time.

I look away, a bit nauseated.

You okay?

Lou asks as we head for the exit.

Just not a cat person, I say.

Winding our way through the canyon to go talk to Ryan Minks, we get stuck behind a dirty Jeep with a bumper sticker that reads, dig your own well.

What a phrase for a bumper sticker.

No corporate logo or name of a candidate.

Just dig your own

well.

I ask Molly what she thinks it means.

I saw some cars at the sanctuary with the same sticker, she says, but she doesn't hazard any guesses.

We arrive at the address for Ryan, a cabin set back from the road near a dry creek bed.

He hasn't lived here for a few months now, Ryan's sister tells us.

We're in her kitchen, sipping glasses of water she's poured from a jug.

Apparently, he stayed with her for a while when his divorce was fresh.

Still uses her address for mail, but they've been out of touch recently.

She doesn't know anything about the lawsuit at Oak Spring.

He really loved that place, she says.

He started there when he was still at community college for class credit.

He was in the exotic animal management program at Moore Park, but even after he dropped out, he kept working at the sanctuary.

She tells us he had to leave school due to money trouble.

The divorce.

Child support for two young kids.

I wonder why he kept the volunteer gig if he was so strapped for cash, but according to the sister, working with animals just made him happy.

Do you know where he is now?

I ask.

I don't have his address, she says, but he got a gig caretaking some property as a rent-free exchange kind of deal.

He lives on the land.

It's somewhere in Upper Canyon.

I put Molly in charge of trying to track down Ryan's new address while we head out to our next contact on the list, J.R.

Greenwood, the landscaper.

I think I found Ryan, I say, expecting Lou to be impressed.

She just nods.

There's an old Help Wanted ad for a property caretaker that matches the same timeframe and location, I explain.

It has an address.

Great, Lou says.

Her response to my epic feat of detective work reminds me of trying to awe my dad with magic tricks when I was a kid.

That's great, Molly, he would say.

I realized later he already knew how all the tricks worked.

That's probably the case with Lou, too.

Lou swerves into a driveway with enough force to bang my elbow into the door.

Jeez, is all I can say before Lou is out of the car charging off somewhere.

I look around trying to get my bearings.

From what I can tell, we've arrived at our destination, but Lou hasn't gone toward the house that presumably belongs to J.R.

Greenwood.

She's jogging toward a sagging trailer on the adjacent property where a woman in cut-off sweatpants is burning trash in a barrel.

By the time I catch up, Lou is spraying water from a garden hose onto the woman's fire and the woman is shouting and trying to grapple the hose away.

You're wasting my water, the woman yells.

My tank's almost dry.

There's a burn ban, Lou barks back.

One spark could set this whole canyon up.

The woman manages to get the hose back, knocking Lou to the ground in the process.

I'm a trained firefighter, the woman rants.

I know how to control a burn.

Now get the hell off my property.

While the woman is busy turning off the trickle of water, I help Lou to her feet.

I was there when we put out the Kern Bullfire in 2010, the offended woman continues.

I was with the Puerto La Cruz fire camp.

I read an article about Puerto La Cruz not long ago.

It's a camp near the border where they train prison inmates to fight wildfires and pay them something like $3 a day.

We're sorry to have disturbed you, I say, practically tugging Lou's sleeve.

Like hell, says Lou.

I can see she has no intention of leaving.

I turn to the woman instead.

Uh, ma'am, you said yourself your water tank's almost dry.

Those aren't the best conditions for controlling a fire, are they?

You want to whine about it?

Fine, I'll put it out, she grumbles, not admitting any wrong.

It's just, we don't have city garbage out here, she says.

Gotta do something with the trash.

Burning it's the easiest thing.

She shovels dirt onto the flames, snuffing them out.

Lou gives me a look.

Now she's impressed.

Abracadabra, I made the fire disappear.

I've got a neighbor who's a real arsonist, the woman chatters on, almost gossiping now.

Why don't you go make trouble with him instead?

Lives right over there, J.R.

Greenwood.

He's the firebug, not me.

What makes you say that?

There's an edge in Lou's voice that I don't recognize.

You remember those car fires in the valley?

The woman asks.

Remind me, says Lou.

Well, the woman says, in the spring of 2021...

In the spring of 2021, more than 30 car fires were set around the San Fernando Valley.

The spree began with a few abandoned cars, then moved on to apartment complex carports.

and shopping center parking lots after hours.

On the final night of the spree, eight cars were lit up and one of the fires spread to an adjacent ride aid, destroying the thrifty ice cream parlor inside.

As only select ride aides have thrifty parlors,

this was a big loss to the community.

The arsonist was never caught.

And you're saying J.R.

Greenwood is that arsonist?

Lou asks.

I know he is, the woman says.

I expect Lou to ask more questions, like, how do you know that?

Or, did you talk to the police?

But Lou is already off again, and I'm following close behind.

When she knocks on the door of JR's house and finds he isn't home, Lou lets herself in anyway.

We are not here to investigate an arsonist, I call from the porch.

This is not our job.

No response.

This is illegal.

No response.

Hey, Lou,

I'm quitting.

I'm walking.

This is bullshit.

No response.

No response.

No response.

The first step is to look for accelerants.

Everyone has accelerants in their house.

Lighter fluid for their barbecue, hairspray, cooking oil, hand sanitizer.

Anything with an ignition point below 90 degrees is highly flammable.

But I'm looking for suspicious accelerants, either in in quantity or type.

Something that stands out.

Like this, a five-gallon drum of paraffin wax.

And this, a cabinet with two Costco-sized containers of non-dairy creamer.

Not what you'd normally think of as part of an arsonist's toolbox, but it happens to be highly flammable.

Creamer contains sodium aluminosilicate, I tell Molly, put a flame to it and it goes up like gunpowder.

Molly doesn't respond.

That's when I realize she isn't in the house with me.

I hear her voice coming from outside.

Are you Mr.

Greenwood?

She asks loudly, as if trying to alert me, as if she expects me to flee out the back door upon hearing that someone else is here.

Instead, I stride onto the front porch to meet him.

Who the heck are you?

Greenwood asks, and why are you stealing my coffee creamer?

I realize I'm still holding one of the containers.

I set it down on the porch railing.

I'm Lou Rosen.

I'm an investigator.

What do you know about the valley car fires?

When you ask people about a crime, those people generally assume you're accusing them and then become defensive.

But Greenwood just sighs and folds his arms over his dirty coveralls.

You've been talking to Tasha?

He asks.

He tells us that Tasha, the trash burner next door, is his ex.

She moved into the trailer down the hill when they split.

She doesn't get running water or electricity down there and JR thinks she blames him for that.

It's not my fault, he says.

She's the one who chose to live down there.

She's always turning him in for petty things or outright lies, JR claims.

Tasha just has it in for him.

He did do time for arson, but it was one incident a long time ago.

Tasha knows about that and uses it against him.

But he didn't set those fires in the valley.

He's very adamant.

I let him finish, and then you have a lot of paraffin wax inside.

I say, why?

I make candles, he says.

Electricity goes out here a lot.

I sell them to folks.

A lot of creamer, too.

Creamer?

He He asks, apparently not seeing a connection.

Like I say, electricity ain't good.

Refrigerator goes out.

Gotta make do with the powdered stuff.

I probably shouldn't just believe the guy, but I think I do.

Lou Rosen's conclusions, though based on nothing in particular, are correct.

The real arsonist name is Richard Macedo, and he will be arrested at his mother's place in Santa Clarita next year.

During his confession, he will explain that he set the fires because he had been upset over losing his job.

When asked why he stopped, he will say that he had been quote, feeling better lately.

He will be sentenced to 20 years at Avana, the most overcrowded state prison in California.

We're not really here about the fires, I say, feeling like the wheels have not only come off, but rolled somewhere very far away.

We are here to ask about the lion escape at Oak Spring Sanctuary.

Shit, Lou says.

That's right.

Yes, that's why we're here.

JR asks, you two cops?

Private investigators, Lou clarifies.

Did you see anything unusual that day?

Well, he says, I saw a lot of unusual things.

I got to Oak Spring early, so I I opened up one of the maintenance sheds that hadn't been used in a while.

Thought I would do some supply inventory, and that's when I saw one of the mulch bags was torn wide open.

Real mess in there.

Other stuff was spilled and knocked over, too.

I said to myself, Looks like rats been in here.

And sure enough, I saw some droppings and a nest.

A big nest.

Not just city rats, but pack rats.

I'm thinking, Lou interrupts him.

Did you see the lion escape?

or did you interact with Ryan Meeks at all?

JR nods.

Sure.

After I come out of the shed, I saw that kid bleeding and saying the lion got away.

I didn't see it happen, though.

JR pauses, thinking.

I didn't think about it much.

Had to clean up the shed.

Was more upset that I lost my brand new shears.

Just got them last week.

They were in the back of my truck, he adds.

That was most of my day yesterday, Looking for my shears.

Lou asks him what type of shears they were, how much they cost, the model.

I look back toward JR's landscaping truck and notice that it also has a dig your own well bumper sticker on it.

I ask JR about it, mostly to change the subject before Lou can offer our services to take on the case of the missing shears.

Tracking lions is one thing, but tracking down missing plant scissors, I draw the line.

That's from Prospect, JR explains.

It's a wellness center here in the canyon.

I do landscaping work for them too.

Good folks.

They seem popular around here, I say, thinking of all the stickers we've seen.

They saved a lot of folks' properties from getting raised in some city development scheme a while back.

Folks around here love them, all right.

If you remember anything else about the Lion Escape, let us know.

Lou hands JR her card.

You could offer to share your water with Tasha, I say, not sure why I'm saying it.

She doesn't want anything from me.

JR bristles.

She doesn't even speak to me.

He gazes down the hill, a bit sadly.

As we pull out, I watch him retrieve his coffee creamer from the porch railing and turn it over in his hands as if trying to understand its significance.

Ryan's injury.

Lou says as we drive toward the address I tracked.

There was no sign of infection or bacteria of any kind.

I realize she's referencing the medical records, so I pull them up on my phone.

You ever been scratched or bitten by a cat?

Lou asks.

I told you, I'm not a cat person, I say.

The road ends at an open, grassy hill and a padlocked gate.

Looks like we'll have to walk the rest of the way, or at least I will.

Molly seems squeamish about the suggested boundaries of private property.

I'm over the gate and halfway up the long driveway before I see that she's finally decided to join me.

A skinny man in his 20s stands outside a mobile home as if he's been expecting us.

From the ID badge Ms.

Evans showed us, I can tell that we have found Ryan Meeks.

He's polite and nervous.

Has pictures of his kids in frames on the wall.

Nora, 14 months, and Rio, three years.

Rio is in Head Start and loves books.

Nora started running as soon as she could walk.

Ryan thinks she'll be an athlete.

He tells us about the lion incident, the same basic story we got from Carrie Evans.

He shows us the bandages covering his hip bone.

But of course, there's something he's not telling us.

I happen to know what it is, but I'd rather he said it himself.

There was a second lion that escaped, I say, after the first one damaged the fence.

Did you know that?

He shakes his head, concerned.

Which lion?

He asks.

Did they catch it?

They caught it, I say.

Then I add, we know about the shears.

He's at a loss for words now.

Looks like I'll have to supply them for him after all.

We know you stole them from J.R.

Greenwood's landscaping truck while he was in the maintenance shed, that you used them to injure yourself.

Those wounds are straight and uninfected.

A cat didn't cut you like that.

I continued.

We know you damaged the fence and let that lion escape and made up a story about it so you could sue.

What I don't understand is how someone who seems to care about animals could let a sick old lion loose in the community, risking harm to both the cat and the people and wildlife who live here just for the money.

Molly looks as startled as Meeks.

I realize I forgot to share my theory with her.

I didn't let her loose is the only thing Meeks denies.

Then I hear a soft thudding sound coming from the back bedroom.

What's um

back there?

Molly asks.

She hears it too.

I saw your car coming down the road, Ryan says, his voice in a shamed mumble now.

Had to put her somewhere.

He gets up and opens the bedroom door.

Before any of us can do anything, the missing lion bounds down the hall and springs straight at Molly.

Her giant head rams into my knee, shoving me sideways.

I know my life will soon be over.

What a strange way to die.

Attacked by a lion in the kitchen of a mobile home.

Then I hear a bassy rumble.

She's not attacking, I realize.

She's purring.

She nudges me again, less forcefully.

Before I know what I'm doing, I'm scritching her behind the ears.

For no reason, maybe the adrenaline rush, I laugh.

I hate cats.

Ryan opens the front door, and the lion lets herself out into the cooler air of early evening.

The whole property is fenced in, he assures us.

Used to be a livestock range.

She has lots of room to roam here.

Why'd you take her?

I ask.

He avoids our eyes.

She was gonna be transferred out of state.

I didn't want to see her go, that's all.

But why the lawsuit?

asks Lou.

He concentrates on the floor.

I couldn't afford to take care of her, plus pay my child support and the bills and all, he explains.

I use up most of my food stamps to to feed her as it is.

He opens his freezer to show us shelves packed tight with hunks of raw meat.

I notice a few frozen pizzas crammed in there as well.

She loves it out here, he says, and I take real good care of her.

I realize he's pleading with us.

You can't hide a lion, Lou says, especially when you're deliberately drawing attention to yourself with a lawsuit.

You know that, right?

I can feel the man's acute loneliness, his attachment to the animal.

I understand that feeling.

I felt that way too, after my divorce.

The person who I most wanted to talk about it with was Tommy, but for obvious reasons, that wasn't possible.

The only other option was Jake, and my nights with him were what got me in that mess in the first place.

The upheaval, the void,

searching for something to care about.

Maybe more importantly, searching for something to care about you.

To feel like you're even capable of being loved anymore.

Take the comp claim, I say.

Lou looks at me, surprised.

They're willing to pay the worker's comp, I say, forging ahead.

All the sanctuary cares about is the lawsuit.

Drop the lawsuit.

Take the comp.

It's something anyway.

And if I do that,

you won't turn me in?

Ryan asks in disbelief.

I realize I've overstepped.

I look at Lou.

She just looks back at me, as if waiting for me to continue.

We'd have no reason to turn you in, I say tentatively.

If our clients are happy, that's all we care about.

Right?

Detective Rosen?

Lou considers, then stands and offers her hand to Ryan.

He shakes it, stunned, and we leave the man with his lion to eat their frozen dinners together in peace.

A lone pair of headlights snakes down the road, traveling away from an isolated piece of property in Upper Canyon.

The two people in the car argue about the radio and the air conditioner, but

they're not really arguing.

They're enjoying a comfortable rhythm that has started to develop between them.

It's been a long day, and they're more than ready to leave this strange little wilderness enclave behind them, go to their respective homes, and get some sleep.

On their downward journey, They pass by many things in the dark that they do not see.

A flock of emus, once someone's exotic pets, roost in the chaparral.

The moon rises over crypts at a forgotten cemetery for silent film stars, lighting their headstones like soft, eternal marquees.

Squatters start their evening campfires near abandoned cars and vans.

The lone headlights finally blink away.

Just another spark, swallowed up in the night.

All is quiet, except for the occasional distant cry of a wildcat from the sanctuary below.

An answering cry from an isolated piece of property in Upper Canyon is lost in the wind.

This episode of Unlicensed was written by Bree Williams with Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Kraner.

It stars Molly Quinn as Molly, Lucia Struss as Lou, and T.L.

Thompson as our narrator, with James Urbaniak as the Oak Spring audio guide.

To hear the rest of this series, get your free trial of Audible at audible.com slash unlicensed.

Now,

I.

Whew, sorry, a bunch of deer just ran by my window.

That actually did happen.

It was very distracting.

Okay, so now I have been listening through Audible Originals over the last two years, and as promised, here are three personal recommendations of shows that I have enjoyed if you want to keep exploring what's on Audible.

Again, no one asked me to do this.

These are shows I chose to listen to and personally liked.

Apocalypse Untreated by Gabby Dunn follows a group of residents at a teen psychiatric center as they try to survive after the world ends, as their medicine slowly runs out.

Sort of the stand meets girl interrupted.

The Sea in the Sky is a deeply human sci-fi story about a small manned mission to Europa to search for signs of life, written by a producer of the dinner party download.

And Tower 57 is a sci-fi thriller that takes place over a single long night at an Art Bell-style radio call-in show and asks the question, what if not everyone who is listening is human?

Hear all episodes of Unlicensed today and a bunch of other cool shows at audible.com slash unlicensed.

I really hope you do.

I love this show we made so much.

Okay, see you out there.

I'm Amy Nicholson, the film critic for the LA Times.

And I'm Paul Scheer, an actor, writer, and director.

You might know me from the League Veep or my non-eligible for Academy Award role in Twisters.

We love movies and we come at them from different perspectives.

Yeah, like Amy thinks that, you know, Joe Pesci was miscast in Goodfellas and I don't.

He's too old.

Let's not forget that Paul thinks that Dune 2 is overrated.

It is.

Anyway, despite this, we come together to host Unschooled, a podcast where we talk about good movies, critical hits, fan favorites, must-season, and case you missed them.

We're talking Parasite the Home Alone, From Grease to the Dark Knight.

We've done deep dives on popcorn flicks.

We've talked about why Independence Day deserves a second look.

And we've talked about horror movies, some that you've never even heard of, like Kanja and Hess.

So if you love movies like we do, come along on our cinematic adventure.

Listen to Unspooled wherever you get your podcasts.

And don't forget to hit the follow button.

Hey, Jeffrey Kraner here to tell you about another show from me and my nightfail co-creator, Joseph Fink.

It's called Unlicensed, and it's an LA Noir-style mystery set in the outskirts of present-day Los Angeles.

Unlicensed follows two unlicensed private investigators whose small jobs looking into insurance claims and missing property are only the tip of a conspiracy iceberg.

There are already two seasons of Unlicensed for you to listen to now, with season three dropping on May 15th.

Unlicensed is available exclusively through Audible, free if you already have that subscription.

And if you don't, Audible has a trial membership, and if I know you, and and I do, you can binge all that mystery goodness in a short window.

And if you like it, if you liked Unlicensed, please, please rate and review each season.

Our ability to keep making this show is predicated on audience engagement.

So go check out Unlicensed, available now only at Audible.com.