Best of Luck

I’ll admit, I side-eyed the 54-minute runtime at first. How much horror can you pack into less than an hour? Turns out, *a lot*—if you’re Jason Mott. *Best of Luck* hooks you with its opening line and never lets go, unfolding like a barroom anecdote that curdles into something far darker. The premise is deceptively simple: a man’s string of bad luck takes a turn when a mysterious friend offers to ‘help.’ But Mott’s real talent is in the *implication*—the way he lets your imagination fill in the gaps between the protagonist’s misfortunes. Is this supernatural? Psychological? The ambiguity is maddening in the best way. Cary Hite’s performance is a masterclass in restraint. He doesn’t shout or growl; instead, he lets the protagonist’s exhaustion seep into every line, making the horror feel intimate, almost confidential. The production is clean, with no distracting audio quirks, though I’ll say the abrupt ending (while thematically fitting) might leave some listeners wanting *more*—not because it’s unsatisfying, but because the world Mott builds is so compellingly eerie. My only real critique? The story’s brevity means some of its emotional beats land more as sketches than fully rendered moments. But that’s also its strength: *Best of Luck* doesn’t overstay its welcome. It slithers in, sinks its teeth into your anxieties about fate and friendship, and vanishes—leaving you to wonder if your own bad luck is just bad luck, or something watching from the shadows.