Non-Fiction: 'Money in Literature' by Page Fox (1900)
Friday Five: 5 Frosty Favourites for Snowy Weather

Radio Drama: 'Dangerous Assignment: Bombay Gun Runners' (1950)


One time I saw this thing on the internet and it was a guy on a bike and the words said ‘lyf is short, be a racist’. Obviously I have decided to apply these words into my daily life, which is why I have chosen to listen to something called Bombay Gun Runners.

Bombay Gun Runners by Dangerous Assignment, August 23, 1950

Thoughts While Listening


We are off to an excellent start already

So some guy just said “Yeah, danger is my assignment” and I’m not sure how the rest of this show is going to top that

The rest of the show topped it by having some other guy say “Ever done any snake-charming”?

The snake-charming reference is not only witty but also establishes the planned setting for this narrative in a manner that is attractive for all audience members

Why are snake charming, elephants and/or explosive diarrhoea always the go-to phrases for defining and/or describing India?

Seriously what are ya’ll eating when you come here? Who is giving you this food?

Illustrious Acquaintance says it’s racist and ignorant of me to say that so I’m sorry

Illustrious Acquaintance also feels maybe these folks need to eat more gourds

Anyway also there was some kind of clever talk about the main dude of the show being charming and ladies being snakes and hence snake-charming hahaha wow

This is going to be a fun show I guess

The action is going to take place in….oh come ON!

Disappointed that you would make up an entire Indian province and then give it a name like Kwalaani when you could have called it something really interesting and exotic like Kevin

Whatever it is and wherever this wondrous Indian province may be, it has a Maharaja- DIDN’T SEE THAT COMING WOW

ANYWAY. It looks like there was a fine, upstanding American man named Carter and he was allegedly selling farm machinery and then the Maharaja’s inspectors did surprise inspection and there were so many guns instead of farm machinery

And so, this fine, upstanding American was….idk, arrested? Tickled? Did someone give him diarrhoea?

Anyway it was all done on the evidence of one S. Gouda, a cheese imbued with questionable morals

This trope of having white people trapped in third world countries filled with colored folk and their colored ways and nobody speaking English OH MY seems to be a very frightening and popular one SORRY FOR MY RACISM

These dudes are saying that Gouda’s testimony sounded compelling but I also heard it and I say it sounded bananas

Gouda is hiding in Mumbai and wants to talk to one of their agents

I don’t actually know who “their agents” are

Some American white dude crime fighting outfit? I guess?

The main dude is named Steve, which is hilarious

I hope everyone on this show has funny names


So! Steve lands in Mumbai and books himself into a hotel which is next to Gouda’s rooming house, whatever that is, and down the road there is a building on fire but no one seems to care and actually someone died of the bubonic plague in that building so they are burning the whole building and everybody’s like nbd because that’s just how we do here OK THEN

Steve is talking to some dude in the rooming house. His accent sounds like he’s sleepy

So now we have met the infamous Gouda. His accent was not as sleepy

So just as Gouda was going to give Steve (lol) the name of the people who paid him off to give the false evidences, the door opened and Gouda was shot

It’s like an Agatha Christie wow

Gouda became Swiss cheese HAHAHAHAHA sry

I think Steve got hit on the head

Like, he said something hard connected with his ear? And then he said something about comets and the floor coming up to meet him? But I think he was just trying to say that he got hit on the head

Steve has come to, Gouda is dead (aw) the gun is in Steve’s hand, the ID bracelet is missing and the cops are coming

Did I not mention the ID bracelet? There was an ID bracelet

I think Steve jumped out the window and hit somebody

Now he’s back in his hotel room

Now it’s the next morning

Time really moves fast in India

Steve is hungry so he goes downstairs and a man in a turban (BECAUSE IT’S INDIA) starts yelling like oh my god that’s the guy the cops are looking for. His accent sounds like Speedy Gonsalvez

All round interesting interpretations of Indian people speaking English

I guess Steve is running again and he is flabbergasted that the turbaned dude knew who he was

He has now slipped into a Chinese restaurant

The proprietor’s accent is like someone beating you over the head with a lead pipe and screaming THIS PERSON IS SUPPOSED TO BE CHINESE OK? LAUGH MOTHERFUCKER! LAUGH AT THE CHINESE DUDE

This whole exchange is really horrible

So anyway, I think the sleepy guy at the rooming house is an art student so he drew a sketch of Steve which is now in all the papers

Rooming house sounds like a house where all the rooms engage in some kind of activity that we can’t do because we aren’t rooms

Steve has now spotted an ad in the paper that says Bundara (WHAT IS THAT THO) and there is a picture of a crest which was also on the ID bracelet which I forgot to mention earlier so Steve goes to see the Bundara (IS IT A PERSON PLACE OR THING) and the door swings open and then a gong went off

Why a gong tho?

Of all the bizarre stuff that has just happened, why am I asking about the gong?

So I guess Bundara (IT’S A PERSON!) is standing behind him

Because he is everywhere

And nowhere

Bundara is a Dr. Seuss book

A Mrs. Trevelyan, with what I assume is supposed to be an English accent, has entered

This is the weirdest depiction of Mumbai I have ever heard

Steve has left now

He has accosted some girl who saw his picture in the paper and was just about to call the cops

She seems to be American

She’s tired of this stinking place and she’s broke and she wants to go home WELL DON’T LET THE DOOR HIT YA WHERE THE GOOD LORD SPLIT YA

They are now going to her place because she lives alone so that is a good reason to go there

Despite being broke, she seems to have a nice place


Steve is just going to stay there because expats like to stick together in India


I think Steve has just got up from a nap

This girl seems to like him now? I guess?

It’s a double game maybe?

Ya double game only

All that needs to happen between these two right now is the lady needs to say ‘falling for you wasn’t part of the plan’

Steve is venturing out again

Steve comes and he goes

He is like Ruby Tuesday

Someone’s following Steve

It’s the guy with the turban from the hotel lobby

His name is Arnold

Illustrious Acquaintance says it’s probably supposed to be Ahmed but I say it’s Arnold

I think Steve just hit Arnold and now he’s running

Steve has hit a lot of people

Steve is now going into Bundara’s house via an open window and then a gong (WHY A GONG THO) went off and then Steve ran away again

Steve is in a car now? Idk

It’s a truck sry

A policeman tried to search the truck but the truck guy was like there is a dead body that had plague in here so the policeman was like ew go away and then Steve was like hay that was an awesome lie my guy and the truck guy was like no its true there’s a dead plague body there haha I guess

Carol is breathlessly happy to see Steve

Also I forgot to say the lady’s name is Carol

Steve has discovered a bracelet with the crest on it like what that other guy had the one whose name is not Banderas

You know, I forgot how all this started and what is going on

Carol is the bad guy! Even though she’s a girl!

I think Carol gave him a poisoned drink and then Steve was dead but then he was not dead because he threw the drink out the window which sucks for whoever was out the window


“Wheaties at 7 can help at 11”

What does that mean?

Illustrious Acquaintance thinks it’s about pooping


Thoughts After Listening

Sometimes a story is set in a place but the place doesn’t matter and it’s just there because someone felt like it and the place doesn’t seem like the real place it allegedly is supposed to be because again, someone felt like it. This is one of those stories. Happy National Wheaties Week you beautiful, beautiful bastards.