Liars' League

Time Gentlemen Please by Stephen Kehoe

Read by Oliver Yellop

Dracula Lord of Darkness, scourge of Romania, drinker of blood and defiler of virgins, prince of the night, terror of the ages, beast-master of many forms and dread count of Transylvania since time immemorial, licks his razor-sharp incisors in a fiendish fashion and laughs. “Mwhahahahaaa!”

He’s just rolled a twenty.

It’s games night down the Red Hellhound, and the fortnightly league game of Dungeons and Humans is in full swing. Placing an exquisitely painted lead figurine on the gameboard with a confident thwack, he intones in a devilishly deep baritone: “I go through the door.”

Dracula is proud of his character. He’s been playing the same one for a year now. A level 7 IT consultant from the kingdom of Croydon. Called Colin. Special skills include: turning it off and on again, and talking about GDPR.

The Fear by Emma Grae

Read by Lois Tucker

We’ve aw been there. A nicht oan the tiles. Dancin shoes oan. Tarted up like a Gregg’s donut at the front o the display. An innocent enough wee swally - or so ye hink. Then, a few hoor later, yer poundin heid goes: ‘Whit the puck did ye dae last nicht?’

The Fear. It’s a well-kenned phenomenon. But seriously whit could ye really dae and furget aboot it? It’s been playin oan a loop in ma heid aw mornin.

Ah wis at ma pal Jamie and his burd’s last nicht. It wisnae a big wan. Three drinks. Max. Then ah callt a taxi hame. Lassies cannae be too careful and aw that. Plus, the tube’s probably hoachin wi the Rhona, never mind the vomit-stained nicht bus.

Mister Merlin by Sally Wild

Read by Stephen Butterton

It’s not my real name. It’s just my stage name, written on both sides of my little sky-blue van: MISTER MERLIN, it says, in huge ornate lettering. And then underneath, in block capitals: CHILDREN’S PARTIES, BIRTHDAY PARTIES, CHRISTMAS PARTIES, OFFICE PARTIES – ANYTHING!

Alice used to say that the ANYTHING! at the end looked a bit desperate. She was probably right. Alice isn’t her real name, either. Names have been changed to protect us all. She always said I should stick at it, if it made me happy. It didn’t matter that we had no money. So I stuck at it. I did other work, of course - work that actually paid the bills - but I soon realised this is the only thing I’m any good at. And it made me happy. And if I was happy, Alice was happy, and if Alice was happy, I was happy. Isn’t that great? Sorry - I’ve had a beer.

Set for Life by Zannier Alejandra

Read by Keleigh Wolf

The forty-second floor office is preposterously swanky. I don’t think I have been at a place of business above third floor before. It seems the higher they get, the more luxurious they must become.

This particular office looks like something out of a TV show about sexy lawyers, saving the world one pro-bono case at the time. 

But it is not a law firm. And I’m definitely not an impossibly well-dressed lawyer. I am currently wearing a black polyester suit that I bought for a Hillary Clinton costume back in Halloween 2016. My shoes are equally unstylish and full of scrape marks, which I tried to cover up with a sharpie but it turned out to be purple highlighter.

The Trial of Goodwife Cutler by Ken Towl

Read by Silas Hawkins

When, on St. Crispin’s Day 1416, in the fourth year of the reign of Henry V and the first anniversary of the battle of Agincourt, Goodwife Mary was brought before the assizes in Guildford, her sex presented the court with something of a conundrum.

In English common law, maiming was the malicious rendering of the victim “less able to annoy his adversary”. Typically, this might involve dismemberment or the gouging of the eyes. Mayhem, as it was then called, was a serious felony. In those days when Exodus, Leviticus and Deuteronomy were respected legal authority, the sentence called for the loss of the like part, membrum pro membro, as the learned justices would have it.

The particular act that she had allegedly committed on her husband was the removal, by means of his own eating knife, of his privy member. Should she be found liable for this egregious act, it was difficult to see how she could be made to forfeit what she did not have.

The Pumpkin and the Vampire by Hannah Hoare

Read by Miranda Harrison

“So,” said the Vampire, tying his cape. “We’re walking, I presume?”

“We’ll take the car,” the Pumpkin said, with barely a pause.

Frowning, the Vampire turned from the mirror to study his friend. “Really? You think that’s a good idea, after last year?”

“Definitely,” said the Pumpkin. He dabbed at his make-up with a tissue. “If this party’s as wild as the one last year, we’ll be way too pissed to walk back afterwards. We’re taking the car.”