Midnight Pals: The Case of the Martian Invasion (Patreon)

Manly Wade Wellman: tonight my son and I are going to tell a story together
Manly Wade Wellman: I want you all to say hello to my boy
Manly Wade Wellman: Wade Wellman
Manly Wade Wellman: or as we call him sometimes
Manly Wade Wellman: Boyish Wade Wellman

Manly Wade Wellman: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, I call this the tale of the martians
Wellman: so the martians think that they con conquer earth with their superior technology
Wellman: but they didn’t count on one thing
Wellman: the keen eye and awesome analytical abilities
Wellman: of sherlock holmes

Barker: wait so it’s HG Welles martians
Wellman: yes
Barker: and they’re fighting sherlock holmes?
Wellman: yes
Neil Gaiman: ah! A cross over! A pastiche! A deconstruction!
Gaiman: how deliciously devious!
Gaiman: when the disparate currents of inspiration meet in a maelstrom of imagination!!
Barker: isn’t this an alan moore thing
Poe: clive shush

Barker: don’t shush me, I mean it
Barker: this is literally an alan moore thing
Poe: clive, if alan moore did this, sherlock holmes would 200 years old and fucking his 19 year old housekeeper
Poe: who would also be idk
Poe: Dorothy gale

Barker:
Barker: damn edgar ha ha
Barker: you’re getting saucy there
Barker: you’re not wrong tho

Wellman: actually sherlock holmes does have a relationship with his housekeeper in my story
Barker: c’mon, man
Barker: what are you doing
Barker: we all know he’d be fucking Watson
Barker: ten million AO3 stories can’t be wrong
Wellman: well, Watson doesn’t know
Wellman: watson’s kind of a himbo in my version

Wellman: now sherlock holmes has an incredible sharp mind
Wellman: he can look at a Woolly worm and predict the severity of the martian invasion
Wellman: he can repel a tripod by putting a hex sign on a barn
Wellman: and he knows the old adage
Wellman: “rain in June, there be red weed soon”
Ursula Vernon: yup yup

Wellman: all of a sudden all the martians start mysteriously dying
Wellman: now HG welles thought it was germs
Wellman: but that sounds like elf shot to me
Wellman: they could have fixed that by applying a poultice of hog fat and bible passages to their tripod legs