Livestock Radio

A little flash fiction on podcasting the apocalypse and what actually living with vampires might look like if they forewent secret societies and took the bureaucratic approach.

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Hello, livestock.

It’s Mia, your friendly neighborhood bloodbag on the run, and this is Livestock Radio. The weather this week is cloudy with an intermittent chance of raids, and here’s your weekly insider tips from the Seattle cattle-sphere and across our vampire empire.

First the news. This week has been a poor week for cattle. Duke Reddington, the deadie calling the shots across the bay, must have had a few enemies. His mansion was found torched and his immortal ass staked in the rose garden. If only his retainers had been so lucky. Word is, since Reddington left no heir, the state is distributing any surviving human retainers to the Bellevue bosses–most definitely including whoever toasted him.

I’d like to say any vamp would be an improvement over Reddington, but we all know state-issued cattle get treated worse than shit. They’ll be lucky if they’re not drained and carved up for ghoul kibble before the weekend. Expect a news item on ‘gang violence’ on Monday. As always, if any of Reddington’s retainers saw it coming and are on the run now, see the show notes for how to contact the Underground.

There was another census raid on Capitol Hill last night. Reports say they registered over 300 families, including 48 women arrested for failing their breeder quota. If you knew someone in the neighborhood, now’s a good time to find a new couch to surf. Since D.C. went dark thirty years ago, the vamps have had trouble keeping track of us pesky livestock, but that’s no reason to get complacent. Remember: a homebody is a live body. Find an income you can earn from indoors–just not podcasting, buddy, that’s my racket–and move frequently. Paperwork was never an immortal overlord’s strongsuit, after all. If the vamp elites don’t know about you, they can’t claim you.

Overnight the bloodstock skyrocketed on the open market. A pint now trades for $650. Don’t be tempted, folks. Don’t trade in blood and don’t support any shop or vendor who does. Yes, I know it gets you more bang for your fang. It’s attractive with the grocery levees, and god knows I haven’t tasted real veggies in a month. But the jury’s still out on whether the fangers can actually trace you by your gooey bits. If you’re staying under the radar this is no time to be bleeding for anyone. Who knows where it goes after the QFC clerk rings it in. Be smart and trade only in coin or–if you’re really old-fashioned–paper money. All the hipsters are doing it. See the show notes for area vendors who have committed to coin-only shopping, including our sponsors.

Mayor Summers’ favorite human retainer showed up dead outside a bar in Ballard this morning. Beaten, not bit, so the cops suspect human rights activists. That spells trouble for the rest of us. I know it’s tempting to want to take the fight to the fangies by striking them where they’re most vulnerable (their meal tickets), but come on, guys. A) They’re still human, and B) we know how this plays out. With raids and mass cattle drives and a whole bunch of us having to pick up and move again just when we’d gotten settled in a closet that made a decent recording booth. Summers is reportedly on the warpath, and considering he was turned sometime around the original colonization of India, I’m betting he’s got plenty of creative ideas on punishment. Batten down the hatches, Ballard. If you can fake the retainer paperwork, now’s the time. Even the mayor won’t touch another fanger’s goods.

Speaking of which, as gross as I find it, I’ve got news on another fang-beard. If you are living in a hot zone and absolutely need a deadie name on your papers for protection, here you go. Varney is a baby-vamp that just set up shop beneath the Pike Place comics store. Word is he just came out of his ghoul-period and is still a little weak in the tooth about it. He only asks a quarter pint a month from retainers and is usually too blissed out on grave dust to keep track of you. Free range and underground is best, you hear? But if you need a cover to keep the census thugs off your neck, check out Varney. Tell him Mia sent you and Mia said go stake yourself.

I hate to leave off a transmission on a downer, but it’s bug out time. Special thanks our sponsors, Millie’s soup truck, Twitter Underground, and Anonymous. Stay wild and stay alive, livestock. Remember: it’s not the apocalypse, but you can see it from here.

Good luck.

All rights reserved, Amanda Hackwith 2016.

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