Oct 6, 2026 · 4 min listen · Last updated October 6, 2026
From storyflo. This is your daily audio brief. Wit, October 6th. Seven from the writers' rooms and the open mics — here's the one I keep thinking about. Let's get into it. First, from The Hard Times. Help! My Housecleaner Is the Little Old Lady From “Poltergeist”, and She’s Half-Assing Every Chore.
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Daily Comedy Brief · October 6th
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Help! My Housecleaner Is the Little Old Lady From “Poltergeist”, and She’s Half-Assing Every Chore
A person struggling with high rent hires the little old lady from “Poltergeist,” expecting a cleaning miracle, but instead gets a comedy of errors. Despite her six visits, Tangina has a unique approach to cleaning that involves only partially mopping floors and sweeping up crumbs into piles for the homeowner to handle. It’s like she’s playing a game of “cleaning” without ever reading the rules.
She insists on making the bed but only tackles one side, and her selective scrubbing leaves spoons gleaming while forks remain grimy. When offered a Roomba to help, she dismisses it as too complicated and “evil.”
Tangina genuinely believes she’s doing a stellar job, proudly declaring the house “clean” in a voice that’s more unsettling than reassuring. The homeowner’s attempts to fire her are met with stubborn refusal, as Tangina shakes her head, convinced the real issue lies with the homeowner, not her cleaning skills. And then there’s the mysterious Carol Ann, who seems to be a ghostly figure in this cleaning debacle—one that the homeowner knows nothing about, but apparently, it’s a big deal to Tangina. The whole situation is a bizarre blend of horror and humor, leaving the homeowner stuck in a cleaning nightmare.
Welcome to Pearly Gates Valley Mountain Strip Mall, where the parking is free—unless you forget to validate, in which case it’s twenty-five bucks an hour, and they’ll tow you faster than you can say “testicular cancer hamster.” The pet shop, charmingly named “Pet Shop,” offers premium poison dart frogs and a hamster with a health issue that’s been there longer than some of the employees.
Next door, Famous Footwear is a treasure trove of Rocket Dogs and secondhand Sperrys, accompanied by an unsettling number of naked mannequins—forty, to be exact. Just don’t engage them in conversation. Then there’s Jean, the notary public who specializes in divorces, but will occasionally officiate weddings at the local breastaurant if she finds you attractive enough.
Bath & Body Works takes a unique approach by letting you bring in your expired candles for a smell test, while the Sears only stocks washing machines from 2004, with a secret entrance to a long-lost Charming Charlie hidden inside one. The sushi restaurant serves local catches from a man-made stream, which has caught the attention of Al Gore.
For dental care, you’ve got a dentist who graduated online, a favorite among local influencers looking for a laugh on gas. The interfaith prayer room doubles as a knitting space for a group of Satanist grannies, and the pet relief area is just a single litter box in there.
After shopping, you can unwind at Jug’s Pub, complete with a ball pit and prison-brewed mead. And don’t forget the class-action lawsuit QR code on your receipt—last month was a data breach from the dentist, and this month, the Pet Shop is under fire for Salmonella. The average payout? A whopping $17.99. Welcome to shopping, Pearly Gates style.
An Excerpt from Jessica M. Goldstein’s Novel, Retro
Jessica M. Goldstein’s novel, *Retro*, follows Ash, a struggling actress who becomes a Time Travel Agent at a start-up offering trips to the past for the wealthy. The premise is absurdly enticing: imagine bachelorette parties in the Wild West or birthday celebrations at Prohibition-era speakeasies. Ash, initially skeptical about the high costs of time travel, finds herself drawn in after seeing friends’ nostalgic posts online.
At Retro HQ, the atmosphere is more boutique hotel than office, complete with a scent designed to evoke memories of the past. Christopher, the Experience Manager, introduces Ash to the company's unique fragrances, each tied to specific historical moments. The humor lies in the absurdity of marketing nostalgia as a product, alongside the stark contrast of Ash's mundane present.
As she navigates her new role, the employment contract reveals the risks of time travel, from outdated safety standards to social norms that might be jarring. The comedic tension builds as Ash realizes she’s signed up for a job that’s both thrilling and absurd, where the past is a playground for the affluent, and she’s just trying to find her footing in this bizarre new world.