New show! TWO THOUSAND AND LATE

Hello, my strange and unusual listeners. This is Lauren Chippen, creator of The Bright Sessions and voice of Sam, and I am dropping into the feed today to tell you about a new show from me and Atypical Artists. 2000 and Late follows Harper, a 36-year-old nihilist whose life is upended when she's possessed by a demon hellbent on bringing about the apocalypse. Harper doesn't want to end the world, but the demon gives her more power than she's had in her life in a long time. In a world where so many people abuse their power, will Harper be any different? Well, I can tell you that this show is pretty different from anything I've made before. It's a dark comedy that grapples with the havoc of our current moment and tries to find the hope inside of it. And the show premiered today, September 8th, 2025. I'm about to play you the first episode of this show, but the second episode is out also today. So if you like what you hear, be sure to search 2000 and Late wherever you are currently listening to this podcast. Okay, I hope you enjoy, and as always, stay strange. Enjoy, but enjoy responsibly. Stop me if you've heard this one before. In a lot of ways, it's a classic story. Heroes during a kind of shit. You're living your life, minding your own business, when suddenly the universe throws something at you. Something unexpected, something big. Something that someone who's actually qualified to do stuff should probably be addressing, but suddenly it's your problem. It doesn't matter if you refuse or if you feel like you're the wrong person because, well, you're it. Nothing you can do. One moment you're an upstanding, responsible citizen and... You can't possibly be describing yourself. Are you kidding me right now? Upstanding. I mean really, Harper. Oh my god, can you please just shut up? I'm sorry. You were you talking to? What? Were you telling me to shut up? You really have all the grace of a sentient stake, don't you? What? No! Wait, you couldn't hear that? Hear what? You suddenly stopped talking and then you were yelling at me. So now you use your inside voice. Excuse me? Look, let me just go back to the beginning here. Beginning of what? The beginning of the end of the world. Oh my god, you're dramatic. You're listening to 2000 and Blade. This is how to procrastinate the end of the world. My 36th birthday was three weeks ago, and that's really where things started, which is funny because you don't think of anything as starting when you're 36, am I right? I don't know. I'm 25. Of course you are. Ouch. Um, okay. Then you're probably still really celebrating your birthdays. Me, not so much. At least, not like I used to. No more shots or crazy late nights or ill-advised hookups. Birthdays post-30 are a little more dignified. Come on. God damn it! Matt Carter brings the tool home. The Littown Pipers aren't going to be happy about that. Jesus fucking Christ. This is pitiful, even for the fucking Pipers. Hey, gorgeous. Happy birthday! Thanks, Gemma. Did you get the flowers? I did! You really didn't have to do that. And you really didn't have to make me a hype-up playlist on your birthday. Oh, come on. If I can't be there to enter every room before you and say, Here she is, ladies and gentlemen, Gemma Reyes, the smartest, most beautiful... Oh my god, shut up. You can't make me. I wish I was there to smack a hand over your mouth. Ooh, kinky. Seriously, I'm really sorry, Harps. No, no apologizing, remember? You don't get to choose when you prostrate yourself in front of the money altar. Still, I would so much rather be upstate with you than in the city, having to wear black tie in 90 degree weather. How's it going? Suckered any billionaires yet? We're getting there. But seriously, it's so hot. I'm dying here. I need a weekend away. Bad. Well, you know I'm not going anywhere. The house and its AC are here whenever you want. In theory. Still haven't gotten the unit fixed, huh? It's working fine. It's working. It'll be fixed by the time you're here, I swear. I'm sorry I can't come this month. Seriously, babe, it's okay. But I promise, next time I'm up, I'm going to introduce you to that editor I know in Cold Spring. Gemma. It doesn't hurt to talk to them. And next time you're up, we are finally starting Battlestar Galactica. The fact that Starbuck wasn't your queer awakening is shocking to me. Are you having a good birthday, at least? Oh yeah, it's great. You know, just finishing up my lobster dinner and reading Proust. Hmm, by which you mean drinking PBR while watching minor league baseball in your underwear? I'm wearing pants. Uh-huh. I'm sorry, Harper. I've got to go. The speeches are starting soon. Go, go. Send the Hypo playlist to the sound system and let the bass blast some money out of those old dudes. I'll call you tomorrow. Sure. Go kick some gala ass, take some yacht money from those fat cats. Will do. I love you. Yeah, I love you too. So there I am, enjoying a lovely, quiet night alone, missing my stunning, perfect girlfriend, and I'm just about to turn in at a very respectable time. 2.12 in the morning? When suddenly, this thing happens. What the fuck? The specifics aren't really important. Wow, five minutes to recount a conversation with Gemma about her job that by definition results in no profit. You're going to gloss over my glorious arrival. Shut up. But, long story short... Not once in your whole life have you shortened a story of any length. Something happened that, um, sort of altered my perception of the world and, like, also my entire being. Okay. You don want to know what it is My god you humans are so incredibly uncurious about everything I really just wanted to know um A demon like from hell came up and possessed me Not exorcist possessed, I'm not gonna start projectile vomiting or anything, don't worry. More like, I just sort of share my body with them as they attempt to perform, you know, nefarious deeds here on earth, blah blah blah blah. But this is totally against my will, I didn't summon them or anything, I'm an atheist. Hell knows why. This is just a small wrinkle to that. Honestly, they actually explained it a lot better. Finally, some appreciation. Once I, you know, stop screaming. What the fuck is happening? Harper, Elwes Landry. What the fuck? Where the fuck? Harper, Elwes Landry. How the fuck do you know my middle name? You were chosen by the great and terrible powers of hell to become an agent of the end of days. The... What? As you enter a adulthood, I will mold you into a powerful human... Enter a adulthood? What is happening? Yes, today is my 16th birthday. What? No, it isn't. You have become... What? Yes, it is. It's my birthday, but I haven't been 16 for 20 years. You are lying. I am really... Really not. I just turned 36. So as it turns out, this is like a thing for hell. They send these passengers to humans when the humans are still impressionable and corruptible, and then the demons manipulate things so that those people gain enough power to do real damage, which honestly explains a lot about the world. Don't put it all on us. You've made plenty of progress on your own. But, well, I guess they match personalities when they do these pairings, because my guy was late. 20 years late. I have explained time and time again that time works differently in hell and I- Not that I'm using that as an excuse for my tardiness today. It's a character flaw. I know that. I'd say I'm working on it, but in the interest of full disclosure, I have bigger fish to fry. Because you have a demon possessing you. A demon blessing you with its presence. Not to appropriate angel culture, of course. Look, I know how it sounds. And I was totally not on board at first either. I figured I just had too much to drink or I'd slipped in the shower and was in some weird coma dream. but then I woke up the next morning and Havoc was still there. Havoc? Oh yeah, that's the thing's name. Fitting, right? Turns out, truth in advertising is their one redeeming quality. This isn't happening. This isn't happening. Everything's totally fine and normal. You can tell yourself that until you're blue in the face, but it won't change the conditions on the ground. Harper, are you doing okay, kid? Saints alive, someone's jumpy. Carol, hey. Yeah, I'm fine. I'm totally fine. I cannot believe this is who I'm stuck with. Mm-hmm. Hungover? Yeah, I wish. The only reason you're not is because of me. The least you can do is say thank you. That chance. What? See? You can't really ignore me. Sure I can. Even if you did manage your refrain from responding to me, you can't actually shut me up. Yeah? Hi. Hi. Okay, now I'm thinking you finally took Jared up on his shady mushrooms. Oh, shit. Is he still growing those? Could he have put them in something? Did we have any snacks in the break room yesterday? Wow, I was kidding. Oh my gosh, seriously. Are you okay? I, um... It's going to sound crazy. You know it's going to sound crazy. I'm hearing it in your head, the way this conversation will play out, and it'll end with you going to church with Carol for the next three months. How did you get all that but not know what a cell phone was? It's not an exact science. Who are you talking to? Did you get some of those fancy ear pod thingies? Shit, Carol, I'm sorry, I'm just... Crazy. I had not gotten enough sleep last night. And the fluorescent lights in here are like... Ugh, I know. I can see my pores. I think Rory finally replaced some of the busted bulbs. It's too goddamn bright. People are going to be able to see that all the fruit is bruised to shit. Yeah, well, not like they have anywhere else to shop. Ain't that the truth. Alright, kid, why don't you go get yourself a cup of coffee? I'll finish stocking. No, no, you don't have to do that. Come on. You did all my work for three weeks after I threw out my back. I owe you. You mean it? Ugh, you're the best, Carol. And don't you forget it, little lady. You know, working at a grocery is not exactly what I had in mind when I came up here. I'm sorry. Is my life not exciting enough for the spawn of hell? I just don't see how we're going to be elected mayor of New York City at this rate. What? That's the plan. Do keep up. Um, no. That's not the plan. That's not any plan. I'm lucky to have this job, let alone... Why am I even talking to you? Because you are absolutely wretched at keeping your word. This is what makes humans so easy to manipulate. You have no conviction. I'll show you conviction. Yeah. Yeah, I'll, uh... I'll pour this entire pot of coffee on my head. That'll snap me out of it. You see my point? You couldn't even finish the jigsaw puzzle Gemma left at your home six months ago. What? How... How do you know that? Get with the program. I'm in your head. It's a goddamn mess, so information is coming fast and random. If I'm honest, I do like a little chaos, but egad. So you can just read all my thoughts, is that it? No, weren't you paying attention when we went over this last night? Uh, you mean when you showed me all those visions of death and destruction and then moved all the furniture into my house with your mind? With your mind? Well, our mind, really. No, nope, nope, we're not doing that. I told you my presence here infused you with the powers that have been bestowed upon me by the fires of hell. This is it. This is the one I've really finally fully lost my fucking mind. This isn't ideal for me either. You were supposed to still be clay, not all dried out. Oh, fuck you. Now focus up. We need to get out of here and get to work. I am at work. Work I need to do to, you know, eat, so I'm going to go back to ignoring you now. I actually got through that first shift pretty okay. I mean, I think I was still in the, like, you know, denial phase. Because Havoc doesn't shut up. Ever. They're just constantly talking. A running commentary on everything I say and do. If you did or said anything right, I wouldn't have to comment. See? No. Right, sorry. It's suddenly decided to be shy. Despite the fact that it has no problem talking to other people when it wants to, or using their crazy powers of telekinesis or whatever to completely fuck up my life. I think maybe we should. And I know. I know I'm supposed to be telling you about me and my experience, but the thing about Havoc is, Well, I understand the need for personal responsibility. I do. But some things are not my fault You eating that disgusting packaged noodle abomination again You going to get scurvy which you really cannot afford to do given you don have health insurance Tip of the cap to the inventor of that glorious system by the way What healthcare That wasn one of your bunch? Too intricate. Digging into the finer details of bureaucracy is not a strength of ours. What is? Getting the ball rolling. The big ideas, autocracy, fiat currency, war, just all the fun stuff, as you well know. What's that supposed to mean? I mean that we have the same idea of fun. You would love nothing more than to burn this house down to the studs, quit your job, and stop giving a hoot about anything. Other than that irritating girlfriend of yours, you've basically got the last one done and dusted already. It was wrong, of course. I had no plans to leave that job, and I don't want to destroy anything. And yet... What did you do? Got the ball rolling. And as if having my living room incinerated wasn't bad enough... What the fuck? He cut us off. I am so sorry! Well, I'm not. Road in reverse so you can hit him again. And the crazy thing is, it doesn't even seem all that pressed about its job. It showed up 20 years late and so far has just talked a big game about the apocalypse while not doing anything more than fucking up my life at every turn. I am simply getting a lay of the land before I... And so you can imagine the kind of stress I've been under. I was mostly able to keep things in control at work, but the only thing it does seem to want are novelty drinks. Oh, that one, that one. Oh, but come on. The pina colada flavor just... Fuck! Jesus, don't do that! You're ignoring me. What gave it away? Was it my not talking to you? You agreed to stop ignoring me. And you agreed to shut up while I'm at work. But we haven't tried the pina colada flavor yet. That doesn't mean you can commandeer my body to try and grab the bottle out of the fridge. So get it for me. I'm not buying it for you. Don't pay for it. Of all the things that Jack's from work, I'm not stealing pina colada liquid sugar. Now, be quiet. But I want it. And I want a million dollars and a new car, but you don't see me complaining. You complain constantly. I'm in your head, I hear it. Only because a demon refuses to leave my body. Fuck! Landry, what's going on? This idiot. I just broke a bottle. Is someone drinking on the job again? Of course not. Only a little sip. That's coming out of your paycheck. You should have just taken it. Wait, Rory, that's not fair. Life isn't fair. I fumbled one bottle. Corporate accounts for way more loss than that on any given day. And retail theft is up. So we're already in the red. That's not true. You think you know better than the news and several renowned podcasters? Um, yeah, because I have a basic understanding of statistics and how fear-mongering works. Hmm, propaganda. I love that stuff. Are you sassing me? Sassing? You know, your attitude lately has really left a lot to be desired. Sorry. And now you're destroying merchandise? I dropped one bottle. And I know you've had your own personal problems the last few years. Personal problems. But that's no excuse. You should be able to handle putting a bottle into a fridge without breaking it. See all the bottles not broken in the fridge? I can't handle it. But shit happens. Okay, stuff happens. It's not going to get you far in life, Landry. You know, you could really stand to take a page out of Jared's book. Jared is your cousin and sells you weed. Of course you like Jared, but he's 19 and a fucking idiot. I think we should kill Jared. I don't like your tone. I think we should kill them. Good tone isn't required for stocking groceries. But it is required to work for me. I don't work for you. I work for a megacorporation trying to pass itself off as a neighborhood grocer. Megacorporation? You know, Harper, you're really pushing it. And you're really being a grade-A dick. Yes, that's right. Tell them what for. How dare you speak to me that way? You're writing my ass for no reason. I have every reason. You've been late and unpleasant for weeks. Actually, you've always been late. I'm working on the late thing, but I'm so sorry for not having the perfect sunshine demeanor when the world is ending. Cheers me right up. The world is... You know, I didn't buy it at first that this stupid fucking demon was a part of some grand plan to bring about the destruction of humanity, but I swear to God, everyone and their mother has been acting like the biggest douchebag for years. My mother? She is a God-fearing woman, I'll have you. Not even in an interesting way. Havoc could tell me that you're possessed, that shitty middle managers are all part of Satan's grand apocalypse plan, and I'd believe it. You are clearly inebriated. And I'm so tired of it. I'm tired of pretending like what I do is high stakes, or that I need to smile, or that I need to stand all day so the customers don't think I'm lazy, because I don't. I don't need to do any of that. I suck shelves, and I check people out, and then I go home, and it's a service that needs to be provided, and what I'm happy to do, but it doesn't fucking matter if we're a family, or if I take pride in my work, because anyone with the tiniest bit of power, including you, a local grocery store manager, let them turn them into the most insufferable person on the planet. That's it. I'm writing you up. All right, that's it. Let's kill them. Oh, no, not a write-up. How will I possibly go on? Don't you get it, Rory? It doesn't fucking matter. You don't fucking matter. You need to calm down, Missy. Why? Why should I calm down? My house is torched. The backseat of my car is full of broken glass because the demon inside of me has no impulse control, and I can't afford to fix any of that. But I drop one bottle so I get $3 taken out of my $40 paycheck How is that reasonable? All right, that's it. You need to clock out for the day. You're being hysterical. I am not hysterical. Okay, so maybe I was being a little hysterical. But are we not allowed a bad day here and then? I think I had good reason. And look, I'm not going to try and claim it was a proud moment. Well, I'm proud of it. But I do take responsibility. Does that answer your question? I just asked you the reason for your termination from your previous job. Right. Good. So there you go. A little accidental destruction of company property, courtesy of unintended demonic possession, not anything to do with my work ethic. And a grocery store has a lot of different moving parts, so I think working in food service would be an even better fit. Oh, you think that, do you? No. Absolutely. I really think I'd be a great addition to this Wendy's. Ma'am, this is a Denny's. Huh. So it is. Wendy's is this afternoon. But maybe I won't need to go to that interview after all? Do you really think you're getting this job? No, I do not. God damn it! It's like I've been saying, all these interviews are a waste. Yeah, well, unless one of your powers is printing money, I need a job. I told you We not robbing a bank That not happening It be more effective than telling every interviewer that you obsessed Well when I tried the other way when I tried just being a fucking normal human being you got bored and set my resume on fire An improvement to it, let's be honest. I just didn't need another interview to turn into a potential misdemeanor. But if I talk about you, you behave, mostly. Narcissism, it turns out, is your weakness. I'll take that as a compliment. Don't. Better to be a little quirky than burn down a building, right? I think you passed a little quirky several exits ago. And whose fault is that? Oh, right. The same person whose fault it is that I have nowhere to live. Not a person. And when are you going to get over that? I was keeping the fire contained. You still have a house. That I can't live in until it's cleared by the fire chief. Well, I had to do something. Why? Because you were never going to do anything yourself. You would have continued on with your miserable, unremarkable existence if it weren't for me. Oh, and I'm thriving now, jobless, sleeping on Carol's couch? You're awake. Fuck you. Yes, good. Get angry. I'm angry at you. No, you're angry at the whole world, Harper, so let yourself be. What good is that going to do? Getting angry won't pay my bills. But it'll feel good, won't it? And when's the last time you did anything that actually felt good? I'm a grown-up. I can't just do whatever feels good. Why not? Everybody else does. Yeah, and look where it got us. So what? Just because other people sullied the world means you can't do what you want. That's exactly what that means. No, you're just scared. Scared of all that anger inside of you, that sweet, hot rage. You're a demon. That's your influence. No, it's why you were chosen. What? It's not random, Harper. What, do you think hell is sending their best and brightest into whatever humans pop up just hoping for a win? Well, I don't think hell is sending their best and brightest, period, so... You've always had that rage inside you. It burned so brightly, even viewing it from below. A kind of burn we don't often see in humans of your advanced age. Fuck you. And that anger, that fire, is what makes a great leader. You would have made a great leader. Mayor of New York, right? Oh, you would have accumulated so much power by now. Again, your fault. By your own admission. No, don't blame me. I would have helped, but you could have done it on your own. That's the whole point. We're just here to nudge. You've already nudged me into unemployment and houselessness. Robbing a bank would nudge me right into prison. No prison could hold us. Seriously, just leave me alone for a bit and let me wallow in another failure. Harper? I'll buy you whatever you want at Wendy's, even if I don't get the job, which, let's be honest, I won't. Harper, incoming. What? Oh, shit. Hey, sweetheart. Do you know where to get some grub around here? Come on, I'm just passing through. There's a Denny's back a few blocks. Yeah? What are you doing right now? Want to grab a bite? Hit him. No thanks. You live around here? I'm just walking down the street, man. The Denny's is the other way. I could hit him. Need someone to walk you home? Yikes! Careful with that stare, sweetheart. You could hurt somebody. Oh, let me set him ablaze. I'm sorry, I'm just trying to get where I'm going, okay? Don't apologize to him. And I'm just trying to be friendly. I don't need any new friends. Oh, I see how it is. What, is this not a safe space for me? Do I need to protect my pecker? You need to protect your legs! Havoc, no! Easy now, dickhead! Oh, my God. My leg. Avoc, what the fuck? What the hell was that? How did you... Tell anyone to step off your arms and face it. Jesus Christ. Let's get out of here. Avoc. Avoc, we can't just leave him like that. Sure we can. God, can you at least give me my body back? I can walk. Promise you won't go back. Promise. Thank you. Now what the fuck was that? Oh, come now. You're telling me you haven't dreamed about doing exactly that to every Tom, Dick, and Dicker that's ever catcalled you. Sure, but it would only ever lead to something worse. Not now. Now I am the something worse. I might not be worried about that guy following me home now, but I'm not looking to catch a felony charge. But this is what I'm trying to tell you. You don't have to worry about that. That man's legs will never be the same and there will be no consequence because no one will ever believe him. No, come on. He could... What? Admit he got beat up by a girl? Tell the police you've got enough strength to break a man's thigh bone? He's never going to talk. And I bet he'll think twice before pulling that kind of shit again. Oh, he absolutely will. Fuck. That man will never harass another woman because we made him pay. And doesn't that feel good? Come on, I can feel you smiling. Just say it. Yeah. Yeah, it feels good. And darling, we're just getting started. 2000 at Late is a production of Age of Illoges and executive produced by Patrick Ellis and Lauren Chippen. The show was created, written, and directed by Lauren Chippen with the brilliant Octavia Bray as our script consultant. Our spectacular sound design is by the fabulous Jeffrey Nils Gardner. Our dazzling original art was created by the first-rate Ellis Carson Jones. And our rollicking theme music is by the ever-wonderful Brandon Grugel. We have many incredible actors lending their voices, so I'll let them speak for themselves in order of appearance. Margaret Burris as Maddie. Elena Vittoria Feliz as Gemma. Vicki Kelleher as Carol. Candace McAfee as Rory. Tyler Moody as Sid. Oh, and of course, Lauren Chippen plays both Harper and Havoc. She really is so self-obsessed. For more information about the show, please visit HarperandHavoc.com. Our advertising is arranged by Multitude, so please get in touch with them if you'd like to participate in the glory that is capitalism. All right, that's all for now. Until next time, go out and wreak some havoc. Hey folks, Lauren Chiffin here with another audio drama recommendation. I am so excited to tell you about Redacted, a brand new Monster of the Week horror comedy podcast. Following the death of his twin, failing actor Jacob Cain assumes his late brother's life in hopes of a fresh start. Instead of finding stability, Jacob finds himself working within the Redacted unit, a covert agency tasked with containing impossible creatures and phenomena. As he becomes entangled with paranormal forces and secret agendas, Jacob struggles to keep his deception intact. This show is equal parts horror and surreal comedy, featuring incredible guest writers such as Jeffrey Reddick of Final Destination, Trevor Henderson, and many more. If you're a fan of classic Monster of the Week shows like The X-Files or procedural comedies like Psych, you are going to love this show. Redacted is out now on all platforms. Visit theredactedunit.com to listen and learn more.