Podcast Name: Radio Noir

Short Story Title: I-95

Episode 1
By Zander Lyvers
The fading yellow lines of the highway tripped the 18 ton
behemoth as it was hurling at a speed of 95 miles per hour. The
Chinatown bus swerved left, narrowly avoiding the orange cones
spaced like dominoes on the perimeter of the highway. Yawns
quickly turned into frightened gasps as the 84 passengers awoke
from their uneasy slumber. The near disaster was simply the
busdrivers nightly reminder to take another swig of day old 7/11
coffee. The brown swill coated his yellow canines as he swished the
medicine around the back of his mouth before swallowing. He gave
himself a benign slap on the face to at least pretend he was trying
to stay awake. He wasnt going to give up now, even if he was
getting paid peanuts for this night shift. Clocking in at 20 hours, or
just 19 if he avoids D.C. traffic, New York to Florida is quite a haul.
Never the less, the bus continued to barrel down I-95 like a bat out
of Hell. The faint red lights trailing behind him might as well been
the fires of perdition. What did it matter to him? Surely there cant
be any angels aboard this dump on wheels.
Stop the bus! he hears from above.
He didnt flinch at the command. God himself could have
made the request but the driver had no intention of stopping unless
another round of 7/11 java was part of the deal.
It sounded like an elephant was stampeding down the front
staircase, with each junction of the foot onto staircase following a
clumsy cadence.
You almost killed us back there! The driver spit into his 7/11
cup. This is the closest hes ever come to recycling. The trailing red
and blue lights moved closer in the rear-view mirror.
Hey, Im talking at you! yelled the 7 foot tall 40-something.
The rest of the bus had been lulled back to sleep by the whirring of
the engine, granting the giant and the driver complete candor.
Back staircase, instructed the driver.
Whatd you say!?
Cant use front staircase when in motion. The driver spit a
second time.
You almost killed all of the passengers including yourself back
there, and youre telling me to use the back staircase!
Cant use front staircase when in motion.
STOP THIS BUS RIGHT NOW!
The tires began shrieking as the command to go from 95 mph
to 0 was executed. A cacophony of confused screams and
mechanical contortions filled the space as the giant crashed through
the windshield. It was as if a time machine traveling at full speed
into the future made an about-face and set the coordinates to the
stone-age. People say that you see your life flash before you as you

die, but apparently there was no time to write, direct and produce
85 different biopics in the span of this paradocially never-ending and
abrupt instant.
The moment was past. There were no more screams. Three
police vehicles had piled into the back of the bus. Red, white and
blue lights were flashing, illuminating the debris and the carnage,
and adding an extra layer of irony over this Fourth of July weekend.
Script
Audio
What happens when a and a disgruntled
Host
passenger exchange words on a runaway
bus? Youll find out on this weeks Radio
Noir.
The fading yellow lines of the highway
tripped1 the 18 ton behemoth as it was
hurling at a speed of 95 miles per hour. The
Chinatown bus swerved left, narrowly
avoiding the orange cones spaced like
dominoes on the perimeter of the highway.
Yawns quickly turned into frightened gasps
as the 84 passengers awoke from their
uneasy slumber. The near disaster was
simply the busdrivers nightly reminder to
take another swig of day old 7/11 coffee.
The brown swill coated his yellow canines as
he swished the medicine around the back of
his mouth before swallowing2. He gave
himself a benign slap on the face to at least
pretend he was trying to stay awake. He
wasnt going to give up now, even if he was
getting paid peanuts for this night shift.
Clocking in at 20 hours, or just 19 if he
avoids D.C. traffic, New York to Florida is
quite a haul. Never the less, the bus
continued to barrel down I-95 like a bat out
of Hell3. The faint red lights trailing behind
him might as well been the fires of perdition.
What did it matter to him? Surely there
cant be any angels aboard this dump on
wheels4.
Stop the bus! he hears from above.
He didnt flinch at the command. God
himself could have made the request but
the driver had no intention of stopping
1
2
3
4

personification
Imagery
simile
metaphor

Narrator: Mr. Lyvers

While Taxi Driver Theme
plays in the background
Sound of gasps by 702
students

Deepened voice using

Deeper Vocals

Sound effects made by

hitting desk

unless another round of 7/11 java was part

of the deal.
It sounded like an elephant was
stampeding down the front staircase5, with
each junction of the foot onto staircase
following a clumsy cadence.
You almost killed us back there! The
driver spit into his 7/11 cup. This is the
closest hes ever come to recycling. The
trailing red and blue lights moved closer in
the rear-view mirror.
Hey, Im talking at you! yelled the 7
foot tall 40-something. The rest of the bus
had been lulled back to sleep by the
whirring of the engine, granting the giant
and the driver complete candor.
Back staircase, instructed the driver.
Whatd you say!?
Cant use front staircase when in
motion. The driver spit a second time.
You almost killed all of the
passengers including yourself back there,
and youre telling me to use the back
staircase!
Cant use front staircase when in
motion.
STOP THIS BUS RIGHT NOW!
The tires began shrieking as the
command to go from 95 mph to 0 was
executed. A cacophony of confused
screams and mechanical contortions filled
the space as the giant crashed through the
windshield. It was as if a time machine
traveling at full speed into the future made
an about-face and set the coordinates to the
stone-age. People say that you see your life
flash before you as you die, but apparently
there was no time to write, direct and
produce 85 different biopics in the span of
this paradocially never-ending and abrupt
instant.
The moment was past. There were no
more screams. Three police vehicles had
piled into the back of the bus. Red, white
and blue lights were flashing, illuminating
the debris and the carnage, and adding an
extra layer of irony over this Fourth of July
weekend.
5 simile

Deepened Voice

My regular voice

Car crash sound,

downloaded from youtube

Police sirens sound,

downloaded from youtube
Story concludes with Jimi
Hendrixs Star Spangled
Banner overlayered with
police sirens