01/11/2016 13:56:38 ¶ ●

## Episode 97 - Josefina

Why do birds appear every time you are near? It’s likely they planted a tracking device on you.

Welcome to Night Vale.

Listeners, I’ve been thinking about Old Woman Josie a lot lately. She broke her hip a couple months ago, and has been recovering at home with her daughter Alondra, as well as several beings named Erika whom Josie refers to as.. [whispers] angels. Now it’s illegal to acknowledge the existence of.. angels in Night Vale, but it’s certainly not illegal to point out how loving and kind those beings, whatever they may be, have been to Josie.

I really miss having Josie around, especially since bowling league started back up last month. Apparently, her hip healed but she has had a series of infections that led to her going back to the hospital, where doctors told her there was nothing they could do about the polio virus. Alondra said that her mother didn’t have polio, but the doctors explained it didn’t matter. The virus existed in the world, and there was nothing they could do about it. Alondra pointed out that there was a polio vaccine, had been one for decades. The doctors closed up their books, snorted, and walked briskly from the room saying, [abruptly] “Good day!” without making eye contact. The angels tried to physically carry the doctors back into the room, but Allandra just got an antibiotic prescription and took Josie home.

In today’s show, I wanted to share a little bit with you, Night Vale, about Josefina Ortiz. Her life as a Night Vale citizen, lover of the arts, and friend of mine.

But first, a word from our sponsors. Today’s show is brought to you by Walmart. For any product you can think of: home, office, garden, automotive, toys, clothes, groceries? There’s your neighborhood Walmart, and our always low prices. For every product you cannot cannot think of: repressed memories, forbidden knowledge, an incorporeal twin sibling dwelling in the back of your brain? Antimatter, uranium? There’s also Walmart. We will sell you anything, whether you can comprehend it or not. Walmart will sell it to you. Sentient maple leaves? Walmart has it. Alternate timeline that avoids a climate change apocalypse? Walmart has it. Immortality? Walmart has it. And we will beat anyone else’s price. Walmart: save money, live in an alternate timeline. [talking very fast] Apocalypse avoidance not guaranteed. Lack of climate change does not preclude nuclear winter, asteroid impact, or solar flares. Please consult the oracle before making any purchases off Walmart. Low price guarantee not available in Mitchigan.

Cecil: To tell some of her fantastic stories today, I’ve asked Josie to join me on the show. I have her on the line now. Hi, Josie! Are you feeling up to league night this week?

Josie: Hi, Cecil! I’m always up for league night. I’ll be ready next week, or the week after that. I’ve asked my friend Sarah to fill in for me while I’m gone. She’s never bowled before, but she’s a quick learner. She is also a fist-sized river rock, so I’m not sure if she can even pick up a ball and roll it. But like I said, she’s a quick learner. Our team will be just fine.

Cecil: Josie, we are talking today about your history in Night Vale. I think more than anything, your love of opera has been your greatest gift to our town.

Josie: My favorite opera growing up was Puccini’s Tosca. My mother had a copy we played on our Victrola, which we disguised as an icebox, so that the Secret Police did not know about it. Listening to music was illegal then. A minimum of 90 days sentence for anyone caught hearing opera, jazz, or symphonies. Even hearing someone walking in rhythm could be construed as a crime. It wasn’t legalized until John Cage wrote 4’3’’. The sheriff had to arrest anyone caught sitting in silence for that length of time, and our prisons became quickly overcrowded, so they decriminalized listening to music. This was great for my father, who had run the old Night Vale Opera House since it was built in 1904. His early productions were rich but colorful, ornate sets and glorious costumes, professionally trained singers who were only allowed to describe what they would sing with their gorgeous booming voices. And orchestras who shouted out, “LOUD MUSIC HERE!” or whispered, “soft music here”, underneath the text. When listening to music became legal, I begged Papi to make Tosca the first opera he performed with full singing and orchestration. It’s about an Italian singer whose city is invaded by Napoleon. A young man falls in love with her, but she doesn’t notice because she’s also the general of the Italian army, and she crushes Napoleon, and brings peace to Europe, and frees the enslaved people of Svitz.

Cecil: You played me a version of Leontyne Price singing the famous aria from Tosca. What was that called?

Josie: It was called What Up, Svitz? You’re Free Now. Sadly, the old Opera House sat dormant after its last performance in 1983. And ultimately, we had to tear it down in the 1990’s because of the puppy infestation. When we began demolition in 1994, I first met the angels. They wouldn’t reveal themselves to me for another 18 years, but they were very tall and they promised to help me. They had no money and no skills and no real knowledge of opera. I gave them a dollar and told them to get lost.

Cecil: Just so the surveillance van across the street can hear, I totally don’t believe in angels. Thanks, Josie. More stories from your time in Night Vale soon. First, let’s get to some news.

Intern Kareem reports that Hiram is in surprisingly good spirits of a five-headed dragon who is on death row. His execution is slated for later this month. His sister, Hadassah, and her five-headed dragon lawyers have been negotiating with Mayor Dana Cardinal for his release. But talks seem to have stalled late last month, when the dragons destroyed most of Night Vale. Hiram spelled out a pretty elaborate escape plan. He told Kareem he had been watching the patterns of the guards in the prison, befriending a few key members of the security staff, and had gotten a friend of his to slip in some contraband to help with breaking the shackles constraining his five necks, wings, tail, and feet. Hiram would not identify the exact name of his friend, but he said she was a Faceless Old Woman who Secretly Lived in Your Home. Wow, Kareem, your report is really hard to read! God, it’s all crossed out. And then you wrote a bunch of stuff in black marker over it, what does this mess even say? “Off the record, do not read on air”. Oh. [beat] OK, umm.. None of what I said just happened, listeners. Hiram’s in prison. That’s the news.

Cecil: And now back to Old Woman Josie. Tell us more about your life in opera.

Josie: My mother passed away when I was 28, and Papi did not last long after that. They were in love since they were 15 and did not want to be apart for longer than they had to be. So I joined the Night Vale Board of Culture in order to stay active with the Opera House and to support other artistic endeavors in town. In my 50 years on the Board of Culture, we started a Youth Orchestra Society, founded the Night Vale Community Theater, ordered the removal of all French horns from the high school marching band, and supported a performance art initiative to put tarantulas in bags and leave them in the back seats of unlocked cars.

The arts have always thrived here in Night Vale, and many people have applied to serve on the Board of Culture. During my last few years of service, several of the beings who call themselves Erika began applying to be on the board. They still had no money or skill, but they seemed to know a lot more about opera and music and theater. But the city would not allow them on the board, because they said the beings named Erika did not exist. I didn’t understand it at the time, so I asked them all to serve on an unofficial advisory committee I made up to get more arts lovers involved. I didn’t believe in angels, certainly, but I did believe whatever they were, they cared about art.

Cecil: Let’s take a news break here, and then we’ll return to Old Woman Josie.

The Night Vale Transit Authority today announced that they would be reopening the subway, which was closed three years ago, less than half a day after it opened. Spokespersons from the Transit Authority wearing deer masks and performing a ritual dance involving waving hands above their heads whilst squatting with their legs spread outward, distributed roaches to citizens. Upon each roach was a single word. Sometimes the word was something obvious like “train” or “service” or “schedule”. But others had less mass-transit related words like “crates” and “desert” and “destroyer”, and on one particular roach, just the word “Huntokar”. After several hours of people screaming and swatting at their hair and pants, reporters determined that all the word-marked roaches comprised a press release detailing all of the pertinent information about the subway reopening. So as soon as we find all the roaches and place them in the correct order, we’ll bring you more information on the subway.

Cecil: Speaking of reopenings, Josie, you managed to construct the New Old Night Vale Opera House last year.

Josie: It was three years before that, when I realized it was possible. The angels, who had served for ten years in a secret advisory capacity for the Board of Culture, finally revealed themselves to me. I was changing light bulbs on my porch, and my back and balance were not what they once were, and I fell off my stepladder. These tall winged friends, all named Erika, lifted me before I hit the ground. A bright black glow illuminated the air around them and me. One of the angels gently twisted out the old bulb and replaced it. They handed the burned bulb to me and said, “We can change things.” I told them, “Yes, you are angels, I believe in you. You are angels and you can change things. We, we can change things.” And then the same angel said, “I just meant the light bulb. We can change light bulbs.” But I wanted to change the burned-out Opera House. I wanted to build a new one. And the angels called upon Night Vale’s richest citizens, billionaire Marcus Vanston, to join their ranks. And they bought the StrexCorp corporation, liquidated its assets, things like office computers, military grade helicopters and mind control collars. The angel who used to be Marcus managed the StrexCorp foundation and used those funds to build the new Opera House.

Cecil: I always wondered what happened to Marcus.

Josie: Opera is vital to this city, more than you know. Alondra is a good daughter, moving back to her home town, a town she never liked much, to take care of her ailing mother. I’m getting around, I really am better, Cecil. But Alondra, she’s treating this hip thing like hospice or something, she’s asking me about my will, about where I keep my records. She’s going through my stuff asking what things I wanna keep and what we can get rid of. She’s always been a high strung and organized child.

Cecil: I’d like your bowling ball, if you’re getting rid of things.

Josie: It’s yours, Cecil!

Cecil: Thanks, Josie. I won’t need it for aq long time, I’m sure of that. Let’s finish up our retrospective of Old Woman Josie in just a moment, listeners.

But first, let me get to the weather.

[“Everywhere” by Ex Hex]

Cecil: We are back in the studio with Old Woman Josie. Are you and Allandra getting along OK?

Josie: Alondra is a good girl, but she never wanted to live in Night Vale. I haven’t seen her for almost 20 years and she’s doing fine wherever she’s living. Ak-lahama I think she called it. Apparently it’s an actual state, but I couldn’t find anything about it when I looked it up. I think it’s in Texas somewhere. Either way, I left Alondra mostly out of my will. I mean, family things like photo albums, ancestry records, and any of the hot milk I keep in my hot milk drawer, I left to her. I don’t want her to not have anything, I love her. But I left StrexCorp to the angels, to the Erikas, who helped establish the foundation, who managed the foundation, who have done nothing but support opera and all the arts here in Night Vale for decades.

Cecil: Well that makes perfect sense. Is she mad though, I mean that none of the money you have is going to her?

Josie: Not at all, she understands. Plus she’s built a comfortable life for herself. She doesn’t want or need money, but the city does not recognize the existence of angels, Cecil. Without me, they cannot legally run StrexCorp. So it will be left to my next of kin, which is Alondra. Alondra doesn’t want to manage an arts foundation. She doesn’t want to stay in Night Vale to underwrite new play openings or poetry shaming festivals or sculpture punching gardens. She plans to close down the foundation and donate the money back to the city.

Cecil: That sounds.. great?

Josie: Cecil. The Erikas built that foundation. They built that Opera House. Everything they have worked for will be liquidated and given to the very city which denies their existence. Cecil, I need your help. The angels need your help. The opera needs your help.

Cecil: Josie, I..

Josie: Angels are real, Cecil. Say it.

Cecil: [long beat] Josie, you said it yourself. You’re feeling better, you’re up and about, Alondra’s just.. reacting to stress but she’ll get to go home soon, now that you’re healed.

Josie: You’re right, Cecil. We’ll talk about this more next week at league night. We’re not done here.

Cecil: OK, Josie.

Josie: Oh and before we go, thanks everyone who’s been bringing food by the house while I’ve been under the weather. Your old friend Earl came over. I remember you two used to be joined at the hip wearing your Boy Scout uniforms and neck kerchiefs and baseball clubs.

Cecil: Huh. I don’t remember any of that.

Josie: Earl brought me a delicious apple pie he baked himself. He used a butter crust and fresh-picked Macoun apples. He even added some cranberries, capers and metal shavings. What a clever chef! So thanks to Earl, and you Cecil, for looking out for me.

Cecil: Thanks for sharing your life with Night Vale, Josie.

Stay tuned next for the sound of a balloon popping. Stay tuned. It will happen. Eventually. Aaany minute now. Stay tuned!

And as always,
Good night, Night Vale. Good Night.

Today’s proverb: if there’s not a race to get to the dance competition on time, then your screenplay isn’t finished.

15/11/2016 16:14:22 ¶ ●

## Episode 98 - Flight

Those who remember history are also doomed to repeat it.
Welcome to Night Vale.

Despite the best efforts of Hadassah McDaniels and her team of five-headed dragon lawyers, her brother, Hiram McDaniels, is scheduled to be executed today for his crimes against state and city. City government promises that by the end of this broadcast, Hiram McDaniels will be dead. Well. Night Vale’s executioner, Dale Salazar, has once again been raised from the graveyard. When asked for a comment, Dale coughed through disused vocal cords for a while before finding his soft voice, not used since the last public execution more than three decades ago. Secret executions are much more common. [hoarsely] “I hope to provide a quick and humane death,” he said. “If it has to happen, and I’m told it does, then I will have it happen with as much mercy as possible.” He then lowered his canvas executioner’s hood, painted with a screaming monster face, and began marking his chest with the ritual signs of the blood stone circle.

Hadassah and her lawyer, Miriam, were fuming - literally breathing fumes of fire, in their anger about Mayor Cardinal’s complete refusal to budge on the issue of the execution of Hadassah’s brother. “Hiram is a citizen of our world, not yours,” Miriam said. “To inflict on him the justice of mere humanity is a crime against not just one dragon, but all dragons everywhere.” Hadassah added, “If you touch one head on my brother’s five necks, I will end you and your puny world.” Hiram himself has showed no worry about his forthcoming departure from our plane of existence. “Let’s just say I don’t plan to be around when they want to make it so I’m not around,” his Gold Head said, and then his Gold Head winked, and his Violet Head rolled his eyes about the wink. “Walls cannot hold us!” roared his Green Head. “Or they can, up to now, but they will not for much longer!” It seems despite the news of his escape plans being, um, accidentally broadcast on the radio recently, Hiram is confident they will continue without a hitch, due to his careful planning and the help of an unnamed accomplice. Who he would only say was “quite old” and “completely faceless”.

Hiram has worked his way out of more difficult situations, and so my worry isn’t with him, but with Old Woman Josie. Her broken hip has led to an infection, and she has been mostly confined to her bed for the past couple weeks. She was not able to come to league night at all, and I’m worried about her ability to bowl ever again. Her friend Sarah Sultan took her place on our bowling team last week and was a surprisingly good bowler… but it’s not the same without Josie. She continues to be positive about it and says that it’s just one of those things, and she’ll be out and about in no time, but I don’t know. I just don’t know.

Well. We’ll keep you updated about Hiram as the day moves on, but in the meantime, I will move on to the news.

“Everything’s fine with the water,” came an unprompted announcement from officials. The officials emphasized that despite what you may have heard, the water is safe to drink and even to let touch your skin in moderate quantities and for a limited period of time. The officials dipped their gloved hands into the water and brought the water up to their mouths. “Mmmmm!!” the officials said, clearly letting the water splash out of their hands without ever getting near their clamped shut mouths. “Look at us, drinking this delicious, clean water! Definitely it is safe and normal water and there is no need for testing, or even look at it too closely.” The officials then disposed of the gloves and retired from the press conference without asking questions, citing their need for an immediate chemical shower. Lieutenant Regis of Unit 7 of the Local National Guard Station and KFC Combo Store said he wasn’t surprised at all. Something like this had been due to happen, and it was only a matter of time. “Most everything’s a matter of time,” he said. “We exist in it, time. And space,” he added thoughtfully, then snorted and said, “But of course space is just the physical aspect of time, in the same way that meat is the physical aspect of sentience.” He laughed at his joke, although it was not clear to anyone else what the joke was, or even which part of what he had said had been the joke. The lieutenant was burying himself in the Sand Wastes, until he was covered to the hips, just a torso sticking out of the sand. “Thanks for reaching out again,” he said, “always nice to talk to old friends!” He smiled, made finger guns at a passing cloud, and began beautifully to sing. This has been the news.

The countdown continues to the planned time of Hiram’s death. Dale Salazar has completed his blood stone rituals and is now doing some preparatory stretching and light aerobics. He explained, [hoarsely] “It’s important that your body be literally warmed up in order to prevent injury. We don’t want any injuries, except obviously the fatal ones I will be inflicting, but no cramps or torn muscles, you know.” Mayor Cardinal watched in solemn silence as everything was made ready for the death of her attempted murderers, four out of five of the heads of Hiram McDaniels. The only one not sentenced is the Violet Head. But in a statement, Violet shouted repeatedly from Hiram’s Prison Cell: “We are different heads, but a single being! We don’t know what will happen to me if the other heads die, this is murder! Murder!!” There was a follow-up statement from Hiram’s Green Head saying: “Stop mulling and help us with the wall!!” Then Gray issued a statement saying: “Well now you’ve told them about the wall, it’s all ruined.” And Gold issued a final statement saying: “He just meant folks, help us examine how impenetrable and secure this wall is. No one could ever escape from here, no matter how many extremely clever heads he has.” Later, Hiram was seen wandering the exercise yard, casually leaving a trail of dirt and pebbles behind him as he walked. Meanwhile, Hadassah and her fellow dragons have been moved to a designed Free Speech Cage, which is heavily reinforced and electrified for the protesters’ protection. They will remain in the Free Speech Cage until they stop breathing so much fire at people.

And in news I cannot help but focus on.. Josie has been feeling, uh, lethargic all day. The Erikas, whom she insists I call angels despite how.. deeply illegal it is and how that could get me in a good deal of trouble, are all standing out in her yard, their heads bowed, moaning low and crying. Which isn’t a good sign, obviously. I-I-I-I’m worried about Hiram of course, and I’m also worried about Josie. I am worried about my friend.

And now a station editorial. There has been much talk lately about the dangers of dreams. And yes, we concede, it seems like madness that our brains force us to experience apparent realities we have no control over, and that are often confusing and frightening. We could be spending that time in our own reality that we have no control over, and that is often confusing and frightening. While the recreational use of dreams is understandable in moderation, dream advocates don’t want to stop there. There are reports of dreams being given to young children or even babies. That said, we also cannot get behind the current push to band dreams altogether. You’ll have, of course, seen the flyers and posters pointing out alarming statistics, such as that three in five dreamers do not even own a properly registered dream journal, and that there is currently a loophole where anyone who sleeps can just have a dream, without going through any kind of background check. But dreaming is our right. It is a foolish right, one that was instituted by people living in a different time, and with little thought as to the ramifications through history of their incomplete grasp of the world, but a right nonetheless. If dreams are criminalized, then only criminals will have dreams. For this reason, dreams should not be banned.

But we do believe there needs to be common sense restrictions on dreaming, such as banning the more powerful and dangerous forms of dreams, like night terrors and daydreaming. And requiring all citizens to report their dreams to specifically programmed satellites that will take those dreams and carry them whizzing around the Earth. Some day when all of us humans are gone, the satellites will continue to whirr in the cold vacuum above, carrying the dreams of the long dead. And in that way, with their tiny mechanical bodies, we will live on. This has been a station editorial.

And now it’s time for the Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner. Please use the materials we sent you to follow along at home. The first thing you’re going to want to do is make an incision just above the main artery. You see the pulsing thing? Right, so put a finger on that, and then cut just above your finger. Great! Now there’s going to be some oozing, but isn’t there always some oozing, kids? Oozing is natural, it’s what separates us from the machines. Oh, speaking of machines, now is when you’re going to use those wires we sent. Insert them in the incision. Mm hmm. Oh, very good. If you’re having trouble getting them in there, just push really hard. OK, now ask your parents to help you with this next bit, as it could be a little dangerous. Once you have pushed the wires allll the way into your heart cavity, you’re just going to need to get any normal household car battery and attach the wires to that. Following the experiment, you might have some side effects like a general movement outwards, a sagging of the insides, or joust jaw. If you experience any of these, please do let us know, as that data is helpful to us. This has been your Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner.

We have reached it, listeners, the time scheduled for Hiram’s execution. The guards walk down the corridor to retrieve him. Dale Salazar hops up and down and makes a series of soft grunts. His municipal executioner’s rifle held high above his head. The Mayor still stands in determined silence. Hadassah hisses at the electrified bars of her cage.

The door is opened and.. Hiram isn’t there. Instead, there is only a hole in the wall. Yes, listeners, it appears that Hiram has been digging a hole in his wall, hiding it behind the poster of a hole in the wall that has been hanging in his cell this entire time. The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home was clearly able to smuggle him some simple tools, since the prison cell was technically his home and so, according to to the rules of her existence, she was already inside of it, secretly living there. He used these tools, like a jackhammer and scaffolding and several meters of tunnel lighting and a generator, to slip out of Night Vale’s grasp, just as his time had come. What a clever dragon! The guards rushed to the window to see him winging his way up into the searing blue sky, truly free for the first time in over a year, flexing muscles that have not seen use during his captivity. Green howls with joy. Blue and Gold, caught up in the moment, join him. All of us in Night Vale follow this escape with rapt attention. I-I-I think I can see him from my studio right now. Even Josie at home in her bed, weak but still awake, listens to Hiram’s escape and feels in his flight some sense of rising, some sense of the possibility of escape for us all.

Hiram is a criminal, but in this moment, he is also a kinetic monument to joyous animal freedom and.. [music distorts, slows down ] Oh.. Oh, I.. Um..

[weak voice] We take you now to the weather.

[“Icarus” by Sims]

We all know what happened. We all… Night Vale, there has been a death. Let’s start there. Just start with the fact of it and… I’m still in shock, so… I’m sorry, uh, this won’t be up to the strict, neutral journalistic quality you’ve come to expect from me I’m just… I’m I-I’m just so shocked, I’m just…so…

There has been a death. One who was once living is not. It happened during Hiram’s escape, he rouse into the air and our hearts rouse with him, and I listened from my booth. In her bed, Josie listened too.

“We are free!!” Green roared. “No cell can contain me!” “This is the least sad I’ve ever felt,” Gray said. “Physics is merely a mathematical expression of the joy of movement,” said Blue. “I was against this from the start!” said Violet. Then he conceded, “But I was wrong! Higher! Let’s fly higher!” and Violet laughed. Hadassah and Miriam roared in joy. Mayor Cardinal tightened her lips. “Let him run,” the Mayor said. “We will find him again.”

But Dale Salazar wasn’t interested in that. He had been raised from the grave to do a job, and he did not let simple things like escape get in the way of that job. He began jogging underneath the flying dragon, saying “hop, hop,” as he ran. He could not keep up with the power of the dragon’s wings. “It’s OK,” shouted the Mayor. “He’s gone, Dale, it’s OK.” But Dale did not hear. Dale Salazar began to fire at the escaping dragon. “No you don’t!” he screamed. His mask had fallen off during his running, and his face was red, his eyes were wide, he fired at Hiram. “No you don’t!” he screamed again. “Your bullets are useless against me!” Green said, and they were useless against him. They missed Green completely.

It was Violet who was hit, the bullet entering just beneath his jawline. It only took one shot. I don’t think Violet suffered at all. On the downstroke of a wing, Violet was alived and united with the four other heads that made up the whole of Hiram, and on the upstroke.. Violet was dead. And the other heads reeled at the loss of a part of themselves. There was a gap in their being that they had never experienced, should never have experienced. Hiram’s body faltered, suddenly clumsy, regaining only some semblance of flight. The rest of him continued on, the dead Violet swinging below. Mayor Cardinal shouted, “No!” but only after what was done, was done. The “no” was not a command but a regret. She opened her mouth. She closed her mouth. She didn’t know what to say. She said nothing about situational irony. She said nothing about unnecessary tragedy. She said nothing more about anything. Hadassah screamed in impotent rage and despair. She clawed over and over at the bars of the cage, powerful electric shocks ran through her, but she felt none of them. She clawed and clawed, howling with a voice even she did not recognize.

At home, Old Woman Josie put her hands over her face. She felt a plunging inside. And it was this sorrow that gave her the energy to slowly get out of bed, to hobble out into the front yard and join the Erikas. She put her arms around them. They surrounded her in a deep, glowing blackness, and together they shared their surprise and their grief.

Dale Salazar, job more or less done or at least someone killed, returned satisfied to his grave, buried again until the next public execution is needed.

And I… sit here, in front of my microphone making.. useless sounds with my useless mouth. Discovering the weightlessness of stories before the heavy weight of the world.

Stay tuned next for… I don’t know.
I don’t care.

Good night.
[the sound of a mic dropping, a door closing]

Today’s proverb: So there’s this commercial and it’s like there’s this baby and she’s not getting along with the dog, she’s like a little afraid of the dog and the dog is like a big a beautiful Golden Retriever and um, so like the Golden Retriever like feels sad coz he can’t be with his family because the baby doesn’t like him, but so the Dad sees that um, the baby likes the the um, stuffed animal that she has which is a lion, so the Dad goes and orders a lion mane for the dog and then he puts it, he puts it on the dog and the dog, um the dog walks in as the lion and the baby loves it and the dog is happy coz it can be a part of the family again, as a as a lion. Thank you.