Tape 27: "Supply Drops and the Ace of Spades"

Another tape showed up, and I had to listen through the usual haze of static, crosstalk, and a phone call that cut in halfway through. I’m still trying to figure out who is calling them, or how they even have service out there.

The conversation is hard to follow, but there are offhand mentions of aerial supply drops. They talk about waiting for things to “fall out of the sky” like that’s their normal supply chain. No schedule, no pilot contact—just hoping for a box of essentials to appear in a field.

The rest is typical Bootstuck chaos: interruptions about “Pasquale” joining some team, shouts about rules no one seems to agree on, and the constant background argument about who’s in charge of writing it all down.

The recording ends abruptly, but not before one of them mutters something about “the upside-down lady with the Ace of Spades.” I don’t even know what that means. A playing card? A warning? Another local legend?

Honestly, the more of these tapes I hear, the less I understand how any of this place works.

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Tape 26: “Tires, Carrots, and Other Local Crops”

Got another recording today—this one opens with them claiming to have reached my “secretary” (the voicemail, I assume), asking if she has good penmanship.

After that, the call wanders through Bootstuck’s new agricultural report: apparently they’ve got a backfield full of “wild tires” that “grow” in the mud, plus a bumper crop of unexpected carrots. Dave’s supposedly writing a musical number about the tires.

Plans are also underway for a roller coaster (target height: seven feet), which Caleb is building out back, presumably with whatever they call “ticky tacky” around there.

Other local concerns include Martin (described as a “weaselly” fellow who ate a Tupperware lid and the toilet seat) and the critical safety rule that you must close the outhouse seat to keep out swans—or entire families of raccoons.

As usual, no clarification on why they’re leaving these messages, or how they even got the interviewers number.

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Tape 25: “Bruise Your Bum?”

There was a voicemail waiting this morning. I still have no idea how they got my number. No callback info, no explanation—just another rambling dispatch from Bootstuck.

It opens with a commotion in one of the backrooms and quickly derails into a story about beach injuries sustained from excessive waving. When pressed for any kind of local wisdom, they suggest an owl could probably handle that sort of thing.

A brief airshow takes place—unverified—before a scuffle breaks out nearby and Caleb is summoned to make soup.

Hat Guy ends the call abruptly when Jerry arrives with his wheelbarrow and squeaky shoes.

So many questions remain, including who our interviewer really is… and what the original mission was in contacting Bootstuck at all.

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It starts innocently enough: Hat Guy claiming there’s going to be an airshow. This, naturally, turns out to mean one plane seen from very far away, a helicopter that might’ve been a goose, and a deflated rainbow-shaped hot air balloon salvaged from wherever such things land when they've had enough. Still, it’s more organized than the ski hill.

Things then veer into a community talent show where Caleb will be judged — possibly for sport, possibly for population control. No prizes, just the chance to stay. Scorecards are involved. Posters are planned. The standard unit of measurement is “a wooden board.”

And then, just as I’m starting to feel like I’ve adjusted to Bootstuck’s rhythm, they casually mention a plane crash.

Apparently, the entire town may have formed around it. Over 200 people survived and… stayed. No one’s clear on when. Or how. Or why. But they’ve got a sign, a map, and plans to turn it into a movie, so it’s real enough for them.

If this was fiction, it’d be bad exposition. But it's not fiction — it’s a tape. And that’s honestly worse.

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This tape starts with snowmobiling. Or rather, the sound of snowmobiling — since the machines don’t move, the locals just make noises and call it “Skidoo.” Caleb provides ear-wind simulation.

What follows is a baffling rundown of Bootstuck’s print-based “social media flyer” (which might be Facebook, or a hand-drawn newspaper), an attempt to replicate the Sears catalogue by hand, a supplement run “from the mothers,” and a local philosophy that includes boots falling off, yelling “John!” into the void, and using wood for everything.

The more I listen, the more convinced I am: these people might actually believe they’re hosting the Olympics.

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I’ve been cataloguing these tapes for months now, and I’m still not sure if Bootstuck is a functioning township or an elaborate performance art piece. This tape starts with something called a "snowman minute"—a unit of time defined by how long it takes to both build and melt a snowman—and somehow drifts into what can only be described as a failed Winter Olympics bid… held in someone's backyard.

There’s talk of a ski hill (five feet high), a chairlift (manual, powered by Caleb), and skis fashioned out of chopped wood and tied to boots with straps. There’s also “top ball” competition, which is apparently snowman-related and definitely not regulated. Eventually the conversation devolves into a series of increasingly frantic declarations about pop tops, bottle caps, and imaginary medals—all shouted with more enthusiasm than clarity.

Oh, and the mayor might be trying to bring Olympic events to town… one at a time… mostly in the basement. With soda. And possibly darts.

I don’t know anymore.

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I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this.

This latest tape kicks off with a brief mention of Titanic 2 (apparently still unreleased in Bootstuck), and only gets murkier from there. There’s discussion about avoiding spoilers—of both the cinematic and automotive variety—followed by a story about someone named Stephen who didn’t wave and has now been entered into a “wishy-washy book,” which I suspect is a very real, very serious document in Bootstuck governance.

And then we get to the hall. Not City Hall or Town Hall. Just the hall. Where Caleb sleeps. It apparently doubles as a civic building and possibly a waiting room, assuming you bring your own chair. Zoom, as you can imagine, is not an option.

BUT— and here's where it gets concerning—the mayor may have internet access. This was dropped casually, like it wasn’t a massive revelation. The man has a modern haircut, which, in Bootstuck logic, is apparently correlated with news consumption and outside awareness. Questions abound.

The episode ends with a truly unsettling segment involving a creature named Eddie—possibly a man, a myth, or a toilet-drinking beast with cold nose and pointy ears. It may or may not be Dave. No one seems to know, including the people involved.

I’m no closer to understanding what’s going on in Bootstuck, but I do know this: if you’re ever invited to “the hall,” bring a chair, don’t mention Zoom, and never assume your toilet is off-limits

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The latest tape starts with caps. Specifically, hat inventory. Apparently, the King of Canada (real or dream-based, unclear) has advised the residents to prepare for winter with new ice scraper-equipped toques. From there, it veers.

There’s mention of a new goldfish-based restaurant called Fish Each—the name refers to a strict one-fish-per-person policy and modelled after Red Lobster or Red Monster as Hat Guy calls it.

Later, a moving truck that doesn’t move needs to be moved, which leads to a plan involving six people and a collection of wooden spools. Caleb is sent on a water run—literally. They believe the faster he runs, the warmer the water gets. Friction, they say. Science, they add. It’s difficult to follow.

There's a lot of discussion, some of it almost rational. By the end of the tape I'm desperate to speak to somebody who does not have a Wile E. Coyote grip on physics.

Also: diced pimentos in Coca-Cola. I don't know what Steven is listening to in the other room but it sounds like spliced together bits of old TV broadcasts from the 1940's era.

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