The sort of late-night radio call-in show with a host known only as MAGIC DAVE.
MAGIC DAVE: Ladies and Gentlemen. It’s the dead of night. You don’t know how you got here. (considers this) Huh. Neither do I. (shrugs) Congrats. You found Santa Carla Public Radio. This is “The Magic Hour” with Magic Dave. I’m Magic Dave, we are The Lost, and this is our hour, man.
Lines are open. Give us a call. Let thy sins be known.
Magic Dave looks to, fiddles with his board.
First caller – what’s your name, what’s your sin?
CALLER: (phone) Hey, Dave. Long Time Listener First Time Caller.
MAGIC DAVE: That’s a heck of a name you got there, Long.
CALLER: (phone) It’s a family name.
MAGIC DAVE: My condolences. So, what’s keeping you up tonight?
CALLER: (phone) Well. I may have recently stumbled across a literal demonic death cult, and I’m not sure how to feel about it.
MAGIC DAVE: Not the religious type?
CALLER: (phone) Yes, but no, except every other holiday. You see, in an entirely intentional attempt to isolate myself from any sight or sign of humanity as possible, I unintentionally found myself lost in some remote corner of Black Star Canyon.
MAGIC DAVE: That’s a cool story, man.
CALLER: (phone) Right. Well. Somewhere between realizing I had one hell of a walk back to my car and crying for my mother, I heard a strange chanting coming from deep within the old, abandoned mine shaft I’d foolishly chosen to expel both urine and insight into my predicament.
MAGIC DAVE: Happens to the best of us.
CALLER: (phone) To make a long hike through a dark, winding series of tunnels and tangentially related anecdotes short: I eventually found myself in a vast, underground cavern with an equally vast, underground lake. And in the center of the lake were a bunch of strange little men chanting a strange little diddy to a strange, yet maddeningly large, fleshy skeletal something or other sitting right there in the water like it was a kiddie pool.
MAGIC DAVE: There’s always that one guy hogging the hot tub at those places.
CALLER: (phone) Having spent my fair share of afternoons in Irvine, I can’t say I haven’t seen worse. But once I witnessed this entity drink the wailing souls of several middle-school science teachers, I figured I’d seen most of what they had to offer and politely left without signing the registry.
MAGIC DAVE: Well. It’s always a good idea to keep an open mind and expose yourself to new, interesting things. On a scale of whatever, how’d you rate your visit?
CALLER: (phone) Oh, at least a solid, mid-level cream.
MAGIC DAVE: I’m sorry to hear that.
CALLER: (phone) To make things even worse, I didn’t realize I’d left my keys by the toilet until I’d already made it back to the parking lot.