Humans born of Soupalons in the great Panspermia. Son of Baldy needs a home and the incredulous Arlee and Jagger must turn on the radio… On the Clinkership in the Savage Garden, (alarm rings) danger here… Tonus: It’s the Clinkership. With me… Dickus: Run Spikus, follow the big brains! Spikus: Nnnnurghgh. Tonus: Sean the Degus, status. Sean: It is a distress signal from Soupalon Overlord. We are being called back home to fight. Tonus: What? Fight who? We have no- Sean: The Meemong! Tonus: The Meemong? They have not been heard of for light cycles. Sean: Overlord. Tampoon squads are amassing. We have our co-ordinates. Order of the Boghead. Our homeland is under attack! Dickus: But I thought these were just stories. Tonus: The myth is real. Spikus: I’m scared. It’s the Meemong! Tonus: We must go immediately. Dickus. You have your orders. Dickus: Hah? What am I supposed to do? Have some cup of tea with Bert Kavanagh at the factory? Tonus: We will sterilise them by their crops. Earth has always been the rogue planet. Living off their flammable and corrosive oxygen, doubling in height over 3000 of their years… Sean, activate Shoupshuttle No.5 for the High Commander. Sean: Yes Overlord. Dickus: Tooo-nusss! Tonus: Dickus, humans are limited to terrestrial environments. This is their weakness and the correct time to attack. They are a falange of freeloaders, relying on two percent of them to grow digestible fuel. So, if we control the food, we will mutate them! (Engines start up, Soupalon squad marches in) Dickus: Yeah, yeah, but what the fuck do I do? Tonus: Kill the witnesses to our Savage Garden. These human mutants survived. They can now overcome and master complicated life support arrangements for space travel and are likely to take over a large part of the galaxy in no time. They will reach Soupalon. It cannot happen. It is bad enough the Meemong are threatening us. Dickus: Stop talking! Tell me how to kill the humans Tonus! You’re the brains of the operation. Tonus: We must go. Dickus, it’s up to you. Get to the Ratchly chemical factory. We have in error created the spark of their existence by letting Bop go back searching for life there. Spikus: Bye! Tonus: Remember Dickus, humanses most startling capability is one of self-delusion. They are not a rational species. (Puts on mask) Tonus: (radio) They act against each other’s interests, competing viciously and brutally for limited resources. They are dangerous. They must be neutralated. Dickus: Oi! (knocks on helmet) I can’t do this all myself aaand look after Spikus! Even if you give me this scrambled Baldy, Baldus or whatever the fuck egg yoke. (Hinge of pressurised door) Tonus: So, bring back the Titan to help you with it. He’s available after the second reassembledge. Dickus: The who? Tonus: Foghornius! It is time to leave the Savage Garden. Dickus, get into your Shoupshuttle. Sean The Degus has plotted your co-ordinates. You must leave to Earth and we go home to fight the Meemong. (Large malfunction) Sean: Uh-ooooh. Tonus: Sean? Status! Report. Dickus: This doesn’t sound good. Sean: The Clinkership is a bit rusty Overlord. We’ve been parked here in the Garden a while. Spikus: We’re vibrating! Tonus: And? Sean: The panels are malfunctioning. Dickus: That doesn’t even feel good… Sean: We’ve broken loose of Savage Garden gravity. Tonus: Excellent. Sean: No Overlord… Nothing is igniting. We are descending in freefall. Tonus: Descend? Descend where? I need engines. Get the Slaggers on it! Sean: We’re falling Overlord. Falling down- To Earth. Dickus: Oh bollocks. Narrator: Tonus’s newly downloaded brain must deal with a falling Clinkership, bound for Earth. Meantime down in Ratchly, Busher is getting the once over at Dr Don Dudern’s general practice. Doctor Don: Uh huh. I see. (clicks pen) That’s it so. Busher: Peah! What Doctor Dudern, what? Tell me what’s wrong with mae?! Doctor Don: It’s a classic case. Busher: What’s that mean Doc, tell me! Doctor Don: You can put your clothes on now. Tucker: Yeah, please Busher, if you don’t mind. Busher: You shouldn’t be in here Tucks! Doctor Don, tell me what I’ve done to me hand? Plaaaese! Doctor Don: Oh your hand is fine, it’s only a sprain. Your underdeveloped genitals on the other hand… Busher: Me wha? Tucker: He’s got tiny nads? But… they look alright to me. Doctor Don: It’s been around here in Ratchly for a while now. Underdeveloped male genitalia and combined, in your case, with a micro phallus- Busher: Phwiizzzz! Tucker: Is it small? That is fackin’ surprising. Can you have a look at mine? I think it’s the same size. I thought I was normal- Busher: This is great! Doctor Don: Excuse me? Busher: You don’t know what this means to mae! I was born with only one ball! Doctor Doc: Nedward, I’ve seen this recently. Instances of underdeveloped local males growing passive with lack of confidence, doing nothing with their lives but sitting in pubs for years, laughing and useless, unemployed and increasing in oestrogen. Tucker: Get to fack! Who, tell me their names. Busher: What are you saying about mae??! Doctor Don: It’s normal! We’re just not reproducing as we once were. Fertility rates are diving. Local men are losing out to foreigners! In a generation we will be gone. No wars. No disease. Just gone! Busher: What are you saying? Are you a Soupalon? Doctor Don: Excuse me, am I a what? Tucker: Alright Busher… pipe down yeah? Doctor Don: Son, you’re a little freaked out but my files are full of patients like this. Men are growing ovaries. They are women. With eggs inside. Busher: Eggs! Peah! Turning into Baldy! Phhzzz! I’m not a chicken! Doctor Don: They just metamorphosed. It’s real. Normally I advocate counselling and the utmost of secrecy. You know what people in this town are like. It’d be all over the Bingo Hall come Friday.   Busher: Peah! Fuck sakes! What about mae? I’m not a woman! Tucker: Laying eggs and turning woman. I’ve actually seen the first close up, but not the second. Yet… Doctor Don: Really? Are you a doctor? Tucker: Er… yeah. My speciality is mutations. Doctor: Ah, you must have read the national medical report correlating low testosterone men and retrosexual behaviour. Busher: I’m not bent either! Tucker: Eh must’ve missed that one. Busher: But you Tucker, you kissed mae, at, at, at the Wishfield. Tucker: It was a puzzle. To open the door! Stop looking at me! Don’t get angry Busher. Busher: Fuck off the lot of yis! Leave me alone! PAH! I’m not, roight?! Doctor Don: Oh dear Nedward, it is perfectly fine to admit you are gay. What’s the fuss these days?! Noth- Oh, oh my god, what is happening to your face? Tucker: Fack me, it’s started again. Doctor Don: Your… your moles are moving! Busher: Ah! No! What is it? Is it a map? Like last time? Tucker: No, it’s spelling something. Busher: Make it stop! Inject me! Doctor Don: In all my years… just who are you people? Tucker: Wait, wait, get me a biro, it’s… I-M-O-G-E-N… Busher: Wha? That’s not how you spell ‘imagine’! Doctor Don: This is insane- Tucker: T-E-L-C-H… I-mo-gen Telch! I-mo-gen Telch? Busher: Has it stopped?! Doctor Don: My god. Not I-mo-gen, Imogen! Imogen Telch. It’s a woman! Busher: Phwizzz! I am not! Tucker: You know the name? Who is she? Doctor Don: She’s a friend of mine. But I- (Distant thunder) Busher: Peah! Did you hear that? Tucker: Fack. They’re coming. Look! They’re entering the atmosphere… Where does your friend live? Doctor Don: But that’s, it’s only a meteorite. Like those in Russia. I’ve seen footage. Tucker: Wrong. You just don’t understand Doc. Doctor Don: What are you both taking? I can’t give out addresses of friends. Busher: Peah! Tell us now right, where does this Imogen Telch live, tell us! Tucker: Quiiiick! The fate of the whole world and his tiny nad sack just may depend on it. Busher: Stop slaggin’ mae! Amplevoicepod make ear-film comedy drama adventures where we submerge your ears in a sea of sound, putting you at the heart of the story along with our heroes. Bursting out feature-length stories with over 40 titles and 50+ characters, all created from collaborative ideas and sculpted over months to arrive at the final mix. Panspermia I & II & III are a 4.5-hour sci-fi podcast series by Amplevoicepod divvied up into 12 storming sections for your delectation. If you like podcast stories with atmosphere, panic and stupidity, served in high resolution audio, where you can immerse yourself into another world (and who wouldn't these days hmm?) you may just get this. A prime feast of a podcast. Not quite Jamie and his Magic Torch but just as awesome.