Archive for Rated PG-13

PodCastle 508: The Ravens’ Sister

Show Notes

Rated PG-13, for war and all its wounds and sorrow.

The Ravens’ Sister

by Natalia Theodoridou

There are many ways to tell this story.

All of them are true.

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PodCastle 507: The Rocket Farmer

Show Notes

Rated PG-13. Take cover: contains more than 5 F-bombs.


I sit at my kitchen table and watch as my soon-to-be ex-husband, David, assembles cardboard boxes and labels each one in neat block letters. This is David’s third packing weekend and once again our daughter has made herself scarce; Sophie has no problem with late-at-night drunk mom or lonely stoned dad, but watching us sort through the flotsam of our former marriage — it’s too much.

“What’s up with those burn marks on the driveway?” David says. “I can set up the fire pit if you want.”

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PodCastle 506: La Gorda and the City of Silver

Show Notes

Rated PG-13 for noble luchadores and kickass luchadoras.

La Gorda and the City of Silver

by Sabrina Vourvoulias


I was born on a Wednesday, in the middle of a chapuzón.

The sudden squall of sky water bears little resemblance to a thunderstorm — it’s more like a vertical flood, though very brief.

I considered Chapuzón for my luchador name — I had poured out of my mother with the same fulminating relentlessness and washed her into the hereafter — but fate took a hand, and the name is still available to anyone who wants to design its mask and come up with some signature moves.

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PodCastle 505: There Are No Wrong Answers

Show Notes

Rated PG-13 for mild language.

There Are No Wrong Answers

by LaShawn M. Wanak

Please select the answer below that feels most comfortable to you. There are no right or wrong answers. Your results will be tallied at the end.

Question one: If you were to arrive at your apartment to find your front door ajar and your chocolate Labrador missing, would you:

  1. Wander about the apartment complex, tapping a can of Alpo with an opener and calling (softly) “Here, Marti! Here Marti!” Grin sheepishly when the Filipina neighbor across the hall peeks from her apartment, then swear when she slams the door.
  2. Call the police and argue with the dispatcher. “Of course it’s an emergency, she’s a chocolate lab, dammit. You know how much money I paid for her? Hello? Hello?”
  3. Screw it. Go fix yourself a margarita because Marti is bound to get bored at some point and come back. Stupid dog.

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