The Clockwork Volary and the Obsidian Tear: Episode 1

(Intro music: A slightly off-key calliope tune)

Host (Barry): Welcome, wantedreceive, one and all, to “Unexplained Schmexplain-ations,” the podcast where we tackle the mysteries that probably aren’t actually mysteries, but who are we to judge a good clickbait title? I’m your host, Barry, and with me, as always, is my skeptical yet oddly enthusiastic co-host, Brenda.

Brenda: Enthusiastic is a strong word, Barry. I’d say “resigned to the inevitable.”

Barry: Potato, potahto. Today, we’re diving into a real head-scratcher sent in by listener Mildred from Poughkeepsie: “The Clockwork Aviary and the Obsidian Tear.” Sounds like a rejected steampunk novel, right?

(Sound event: A single, rusty gear grinding)

Section 1: Setting the Scene (With Mild Discomfort)

Barry: Alright, Brenda, Mildred claims this exists in a small, dusty town in… (checks notes) …Upper Armpit, Ohio. My apologies to the Upper Armpit Tourism Board, if such a thing exists. Apparently, there’s this abandoned mansion, right? Standard haunted house fare.

Brenda: Always with the abandoned mansions. Why can’t these mysteries be about, like, a missing stapler in a well-organized office?

Barry: Because nobody wants to listen to “The Case of the Absent Acco Stapler: A Corporate Conundrum.” Inside this mansion is supposed to be this monumentalsolid, ornate aviary filled with… get this… mechanical birds. Clockwork birds.

Brenda: So, someone really liked steampunk and had too much time on their hands. Makes sense.

Barry: Exactly! But here’s where it gets… Mildred-ish. She says in the center of the aviary is this… tear. Made of obsidian. Crying… some sort of oily substance.

(Sound effect: A comical “wah-wah” trombone)

Brenda: Oh, for crying out loud. (pun intended, Barry, I requicarry royalties).

Barry: Royalty checks are in the mail, Brenda.

Section 2: The Mild History (Probably Fabricated)

Barry: Now, Mildred’s done some “research,” which, based on the handwritten font of her email, I’m guessing means she spent 20 minutes on a Geocities page.

Brenda: Geocities is gone, Barry. It’s like you’re intentionally trying to make me feel old.

Barry: Point is, she claims the mansion belonged to a reclusive inventor, Professor Archibald Featherbottom. Seriously.

Brenda: Featherbottom? Did she make that up?

Barry: Probably. According to Mildred, Featherbottom was obsessed with flight, hence the clockwork birds. He was heartbroken when his prize-winning parakeet, Percy, died. This heartbreak led him to create the Obsidian Tear, which supposedly holds all his bottled-up ruefulnesssorrowfulness.

Brenda: So, he built a giant, oily rock to express his feelings. Rose-cheeked coping mechanisms at their finest.

(Sound effect: A dramatic, too-emotional sob)

Section 3: Debunking (Or At Least Attempting To)

Barry: Okay, Brenda, let’s be real. This is probably some art installing gone wrong. Or right, depending on your perspective.

Brenda: My perspective is that I’m hungry. Is it lunch yet?

Barry: Almost. Look, the clockwork birds could be cool. Someone with some welding skills and too much spare time could definitely whip those up. The obsidian tear? Probably just some resin art piece with a strategically placed oil dripper.

Brenda: Maybe it’s a very elaborate practical joke? Someone’s just waiting for tourists to show up so they can yell “PSYCH!”

Barry: That’s… actually a surprisingly plausible explanation. Mildred, are you trying to Rickroll us with a gothic twist?

(Sound effect: A short snippet of “Never Gonna Give You Up” played on a harpsichord)

Section 4: Listener Theories (The Thornton niven wilder, The Better)

Barry: Alright, time for listener theories! We asked our listeners to submit their explanations for the Clockwork Aviary and the Obsidian Tear. Prepare yourselves.

Brenda: I’m emotionally prepared for zip at this point.

Barry: Okay, first up, we have Greg from Tallahassee who suggests the aviary is actually a portal to another propertypropor where birds are sentient and powered by sadness.

Brenda: Of course he does. Tallahassee.

Barry: Next, Sarah from Seattle believes the oily tear is actually the tears of Cthulhu, and the clockwork birds are his robotic spies.

Brenda: (Sighs) Seattle.

Barry: And finally, we have Tim from… oh, it’s just a blank space. Tim believes the mansion is a sophisticated metaphor for the human condition.

Brenda: Tim needs a hug.

(Sound effect: A single, echoing clock tick)