CHAPTER 1: CLAY DABBLER STRIKES!

Shuli Egar sat behind his laboratory bench; his eyes fixed intently on the scale in front of him. Upon the scale sat a container filled with human feces, weighed with precision to the one hundredth of a gram. Shuli nodded, his lips turning up slightly in the barest hint of a smile. This was the only outward clue that he was pleased with the results he was attaining. Shuli was widely known for his stoic professionalism in his scientific inquiries. A veteran of the Radio Wars, he had long since made a name for himself as a respected gastroenterologist and podcaster. If one were to ask any of his peers, almost every one would speak highly of his work ethic and the diligence with which he had paid his dues in his chosen fields.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Shuli's concentration was broken by the queer sound of three dull thuds. He looked up from his project in surprise. Visitors at this hour?

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

The thuds grew louder. Shuli was sure now. Someone was knocking on the front door. As the rhythmic sound continued to grow louder and heavier, he removed his blue nitrile gloves and deposited them into the trash bin beside the bench. He hurried to the sink to wash his hands with soap and water, then reached into his pocket to retrieve his smartphone.

CRASH!

The entire house seemed to shake just as Shuli was able to unlock his device. He tapped the icon for his home security app and gasped as the live feed from his front door camera appeared on the screen. The door had been smashed off of its hinges, splintering the frame in the process. There was no sign of whoever or whatever had been responsible for this destruction. Then, from up above, Shuli heard heavy, clomping footsteps. They moved across the floor, and with a sinking feeling Shuli knew that they were headed toward the staircase that led down into his basement laboratory. They were heading for him.

Shuli opened his streaming app. As the footsteps continued to move closer, he tapped "GO LIVE," automatically sending notifications out to his legion of devoted listeners and viewers.

"I don't have much time," he said to his followers. "So I need everyone to listen closely. My location has been compromised, and my house has been broken into. I think it must be obvious to everyone who is behind this, and I will need some of you to clip this stream and send it to Karl from Who Are These Podcasts?"

He paused briefly.

"Whoever has come is almost down the stairs now," he whispered after the moment of silence. "I'm going to turn the camera around so you will all be able to see who it is that comes through the door."

Shuli switched to his phone's front facing camera. He focused it on the door to his lab. The handle was turning. Then suddenly the door swung violently inward, and Shuli's jaw dropped at the sight of the thing that now stood mere feet away from him. It was a huge golem, carved from clay. Standing over eight feet tall, its bald head and twisting, sneering face were an enlarged, mocking simulacrum of Shuli's own.

Slowly, the living statue continued to approach its prey. The picture Shuli was broadcasting began to shake and became slightly blurred as he began to quiver in terror. The golem reached out towards him with its massive hand.

"Shhhiiiiittt weigghhhhhaaaaaaaaaaa…" the golem growled in a deep, rumbling voice.

Shuli screamed, his nerveless fingers dropping his phone to the floor.

"NO!" he cried out, his voice still clearly audible to his online audience. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Producer Chris switched off the television. Around the room, the brave podcast warriors who had been gathered at Rochester Palace remained silent, stunned by the shocking video they had been shown. Finally, their leader stood up and took charge.

"Thank you, Producer Chris," said Karl Hamburger. He turned to address his comrades in podcast criticism. "You have now seen the video that was sent to me early this morning. I think you all understand why I called you here."

There were nods and murmurs.

A small green monster puppet seated to Karl's left spoke up. "There's only one man who could craft a golem like that."

"That's right Tookie," Karl replied. "This has to be the work of Clay Dabbler."

"Mm-hm. Mm-hm," Tookie nodded his head rapidly in agreement.

"Clay Dabbler doesn't work alone," said another member of the council. His voice was slightly nasally, and he wore a large trucker's cap on his head. "He doesn't have the will or the guts for it. If he's involved, then we all know who's really calling the shots."

"Trucker Andy is right," said Producer Chris. "With this attack on our ally and co-host of Point Dabble Point, Shuli Egar, the only conclusion we can make is that our oldest enemy is ready for a new campaign of podcast crime. Stuttering John Melendez has returned!"

Chris's declaration immediately raised the tension in the room noticeably. Jenny Jingles and Lucy Tightbox, the council's beautiful Amazonian female podcast warriors, shuddered visibly at the very thought of such a monster coming back to inflict his obnoxious shouting and nonsensical tirades upon civilized society.

"Then we'll have to act quickly," Andy continued. "Make contact with Cardiff Electric in Minnesota and warn him. He could be on John's hit list. We should gather the Review Girls and have them prepare for a naval assault-"

"Hold on, Andy. You're getting ahead of yourself," Karl interrupted his eager soldier. "So far Stuttering John has only acted through his minion. If we want to enact a counteroffensive on John, we're going to have to start with the leads we have. And right now, that means finding that golem, rescuing Shuli, and capturing Clay Dabbler."

"I take it that means you have a plan prepared?" Tookie asked.

"I always do my prep," Karl said. "Our first objective is to find out where that golem took Shuli. To do that, we need to investigate the scene of the crime and see the evidence for ourselves. Let's go, team!"

Without another word, the group rose as one. They filed from the room silently and began to make their way down the long wood paneled corridors of Rochester Palace with haste. In less than a minute, they had arrived in a spacious garage in which sat a large armoured truck. Painted on the vehicle's side was an emblem known to podcast listeners far and wide. An emblem that inspired hope in all who gazed upon it. It was the WATP logo, an overflowing green trash can wearing a pair of expensive looking headphones. Trucker Andy stepped up into the driver's seat and Karl took his place beside him. Producer Chris opened the truck's rear doors. In the back were two long benches with waist seatbelts, along with a trove of supplies and portable podcasting equipment. The rest of the team took their seats on the benches, facing towards each other in two small rows. Chris closed the doors behind him and knocked on the small transom separating them from the cab. At this signal Trucker Andy began to drive, taking the WATP team towards Shuli's laboratory and their new adventure.