The following is an archive podcast presented by the Branson and Hudson Foundation for Podcast Recovery.

This podcast is entitled USS Toronto Decklog, June 23rd.

It is the first and only episode of the podcast.

Welcome to episode one.

USS Toronto Decklogue June 23rd.

Battle report. Future knowledge. Code name. The Browntown Scare.

Recording this log is Captain Rich Kisser.

The sea is a harsh mistress and our task is even harder. We are miles below what any land

dweller would call habitable.

Even dilettantes like Robert Ballard would pop an eyeball at the depth we are at now.

This low, it doesn't even feel like the ocean anymore. The creatures that float by don't feel like

fish or look like squid or anything. They seem like creatures long

lost to some astral void scratching for the echo of a world to call their own and then destroy.

Sometimes in my cabin, with only the faint chitterings of my parrot, Mr. Beer, and the incessant genital scratching of my monkey

booty man, I stare at the triple-plated glass outside and think that I have reached the end of

outer space and plunged into something even more alien, even more obscene. And when I allow the

deepest, most insane thoughts of my mind to speak, they say,

whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, lock the door. I thought I had the door lock. What are you guys doing

in here? I was monologuing. Hey. That was autobiography level shit. Good Lord, guys. River

fucking cheated at Checkers again. I don't care if River cheated at Checkers, okay?

And he's pocketing the, he's pocketing all the pieces. He won't give him back. I told you guys.

I know we were playing chess and when you hop a man in chess, you keep the piece in your pocket.

...