H.P. Podcraft.

You needn't think I'm crazy, Elliot.

plenty of others haveerer prejudices than this. Why don't you

laugh at all of his grandfather who won't ride in a motor? If I don't like that damn subway,

it's my own business, and we got here more quickly anyhow in the taxi. We'd have had to walk up the hill from Park Street to be taking the car.

I know I'm more nervous than I was when you saw me last year, but you don't need to hold a clinic over it. There's plenty of reason, God knows, and I'm fancy I'm lucky to be saying at all.

Why the third degree? He didn't used to be so inquisitive.

Well, if you must hear it, I don't know why you shouldn't.

Maybe you ought to, anyhow, but he kept writing me like a grieved parent when he heard I'd begun to cut the art club and keep away from Pickman.

Now that he's disappeared I got around to the club once in a while but my nerves aren't what they were.

Those are the opening paragraphs from H.P. Lovecraft's model, one of his most famous and maybe the most famous creepy artist story.

I say that because we've got another creepy artist on the show today, Josh Bentley.

Thanks, I have my pants down to my ankles right now.

That's how creepy I am.

Excellent.

And you're outside, right?

Yes, I am.

I'm in beautiful downtown East Smolene next to a lot of urban decay down here so I could get kind of in the spirit of this.

I've come down here and look at some of the esoteric gang graffiti. There's some beds down here, if anybody wants to lay down on one of these beds.

Which I would suspect that one of these beds has probably been used for some sort of loathsome

gool sacks of some sort.

Oh yes.

...