From the Jill Schwartz Memorial Library here in Sultry, Savannah, this is obscure, season four in American tragedy.

I am your host, your friend, your ear lover, and literary mansplainer-in-chief, Michael Ian

Black.

Happy to be rejoining you on this literary adventure.

I'm recording late at night, not something I commonly do, and the reason I'm doing so is because I've been in Pittsburgh the last few days I'm home for about 20 hours and then it's off to

New York City so this is really the only window of opportunity I had and I couldn't

let you down not after all we've been through together I simply could not

rest until I had recorded this episode

of the podcast.

Now, does that mean that I have foregone my nightly pretzels?

No, I had some just before hitting record.

And if I cough at all, it's because I have a tiny little piece of pretzel stick still

stuck in my esophagus.

Did it mean that I forewent my edibles that are going to put me to sleep? No, I took those too.

Now it's just a race against time. The only question is, who's going to collapse first? The recording

were me. I don't know why the recording would collapse.

And furthermore, I don't know why I would collapse. If anything, I just might get a little bit

less coherent than normal. So that would be no terrible shakes on anybody's part.

Tomorrow, I'm heading to New York City to participate in this in comic relief.

Me and Amber from the TV show, we're just introducing our boss and blah, blah, blah,

not very interesting.

But I think it's nice to be a part of comic relief after 30 years in show business.

...