01/02/2016 10:54:04 ¶ ●

## Episode 81 - After 3327

To err is human. But to err is also computer. We’ll have to find another test to reveal which of us are secretly bots.

Welcome to Night Vale.

Let’s start things off with the Community Calendar.

This afternoon, the Museum of Forbidden Technologies will be hosting a lecture by Night Vale High’s A.P. auto shop teacher, Nick Teller. He will be demonstrating some fun devices he came up with while tinkering around in his garage. As usual for talks at the museum, Nick will be covered with a burlap tarp, and a white noise machine will be played through a state-of-the-art surround sound system, so that no dangerous and secret technology can accidentally be learned about.

Tuesday will be the annual day in which we leave offerings of fruit and Rolaids for the Eternal Scouts on display in front of City Hall. These brave children rose through the ranks from Boy Scout, to Eagle Scout, Blood Pact Scout, Weird Scout, Dreadnought Scout, Dark Scout, and Fear Scout, before finally achieving the rank of Eternal Scout.

Now, these two brave boys, Frank and Barty, stand in their glass cases, as they have for almost three years, with wide unseeing eyes, wide unseeing mouths, and long unseeing hair.

It is rumored that one day, in Night Vale’s hour of greatest need, the Eternal Scouts will awake and walk among us once again. Until then, we all bow our heads in silent reverence so that we don’t have to look at them because they are very creepy. We all look at the ground instead, because the ground it not creepy, except that it consumes your body when your body no longer belongs to you.

Wednesday is “Take Your Daughter to Work Day.” Wednesday is “Put Your Daughter to Work Day.” Wednesday is “Teach Your Daughter How to Do Whatever Simple Task It Is You are Paid to Do and Then, Once She has Mastered It, Slip Away and Leave Her as Your Replacement Day.”

If you do not have a daughter, one will be assigned to you. If you do have a daughter…are you sure you do?

Thursday is a lost cause. Why even bother with Thursday? We all tried and tried, and still Thursday is what it is. Let’s all give up hope for Thursday and just let it do its thing.

Friday evening, legendary rock band The Clash and the great Amy Winehouse are joining together for a free concert in your imagination.

Saturday, there will be a sale at Dark Owl Records, with everything wildly reduced in price. Cheapest of all, said Dark Owl owner Michelle Nguyen, will be the idea of art, which has been degraded to a point where it holds no recognizable value.

“It’s like, what does art even mean outside of the intention to make art?” said Nguyen in a statement she burned into my lawn this morning. “And does the intention to make art alone define what it is? Anyway, you can take art for all I care. I moved on to the intricate fractal happenstance of nature, like, years ago,” she concluded.

If there’s any particular album you’re looking for, please do ask for it by name so that Michelle can know the album is too well-known now, and she can put every copy she owns in the garbage, with all the rest of the popular music.

Sunday is someone else’s problem. What, you have to worry about every day yourself?

This has been the Community Calendar.

My former intern Maureen has dropped by the studio, and oh my God! She has the most adorable beagle puppy with her! Look at you! Look at yooouuu!

Maureen: I’m here too.

Cecil: Oh, of course! Hello, Maureen, you are also here. Yes.

Maureen: Hi. Whatever. I guess hi.

Cecil: Maureen, it’s just a delight to have you and your little buddy here!

Maureen: Yeah. I– I bet it’s a delight.

Cecil: Okay. What’s been new with you?

Maureen: Well, let’s see. Oh, yeah. I had to start a new internship because I still need those credits to graduate. The new internship’s pretty sweet, I guess. I, lead an army, or whatever.

Cecil: You lead an army?

Maureen: Or whatever! It doesn’t matter! I mean, I don’t have to! If you could write my intern credit letter for school, I wouldn’t have to do this other internship. I could just graduate…

Cecil: Oh, your new internship sounds great! I hope you’re truly applying yourself.

Maureen: I– I’ve been talking with another former intern of yours, by the way.

Cecil: Oh, Dana? Oh! So proud of her! My best intern. Ever. She’s really doing some great things for this town. You know she’s mayor now, right?

Maureen: I know who Mayor Cardinal is! Everything’s about Dana, isn’t it? “Oh, look at me, I got college credits, and I get to be mayor, not like Maureen. Maureen has to lead an army, or whatever, to get those credits.

Cecil: An army?

Maureen: Or whatever, it’s not important!

Cecil: It sounds kind of important.

Maureen: Oh, does it!?! Is that what sounds important? Do you know that there are people starving to death somewhere?

Cecil: Oh my God, where? We should help them!

Maureen: I don’t know, somewhere! Wasn’t being specific. Wasn’t actually suggesting making the world a better place. Was just using theoretical human suffering as a deflection.

Cecil: Oh, have you been taking those, uh, Art of Conversation classes at the community college, too? Our receptionist, Lance, got me into these classes, and I’ve learned so much about how to better talk with people. Uh, techniques like intense, almost-invasive listening, and absolute denial of the reality of truth. And, changing the subject – your best line of defense.

Maureen: Can you write me a credit letter, or not?

Cecil: That’s a good question. Another good question is, “Whose a good boy? Whose a good boy!”

Maureen: This dog is, obviously! He’s a beagle! Therefore, he’s a good boy! This was a mistake. I’ll talk to you later, or whatever. More whatever than later.

Cecil: Bye, buddy! Oh, look at you, such a cute dog! I would do anything for that little face, that tiny adorable face and those floppy dumb ears! I would do anything!

Oh no, the beagle’s leaving! In the arms of Maureen. Maureen is also leaving.

Um, goodbye, Maureen! It was nice of you to drop by and talk about…oh, whatever it was you were talking about.

Listeners, she’s leaving in the company of that same boy I saw her with a couple weeks ago. The one with the baseball cap pulled low over his face? I definitely recognize him. Where do I know him from?

Nah, I’m certain this won’t come up again. I wouldn’t worry about it.

A small update on my previous Community Calendar announcement. Things have…gone off track during A.P. auto shop teacher Nick Teller’s presentation on his inventions. It seems that he somehow accidentally removed the unsecured burlap tarp from his body, and turned off the switch on the white noise machine next to him, thus foiling the usual safeguards against learning.

His completely audible talk covered simple life hacks he’s developed to lower your electric bill.

The first is a way of transmitting energy over great distances. To that end, he held up a lit light bulb, not visibly attached to any power source. The power, Nick said, came wirelessly from a coil situated 26 miles away in the desert.

His other power saving tips included setting your thermostat just a bit higher, improving the insulation in your home, and using a free energy generator he invented that can provide power for an entire household indefinitely, on no fuel at all.

The World Government has made a statement, apologizing for the technical errors that are allowing this speech to be heard, and have released a response that consists of just the words, “Nuh-uh!” drawn in red crayon on construction paper.

So, two interesting sides to consider in this story.

Update on the trial of the century, as four of the five heads belonging to five-headed dragon Hiram McDaniels are tried for their role in the attempted coup against our beloved mayor.

The first witness of the trial was called to the stand today. It was Harrison Kip, Adjunct Professor of Archaeology at the Night Vale Community College. He was once tricked by Hiram’s heads and their co-conspirator, the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home, into summoning a sand golem that wreaked havoc throughout Night Vale. We covered all this, of course, in our two-part report last year.

Harrison had been so ashamed of his role in the destruction that he fled into the desert to live the life of a simple hermit, only reaching out to civilization to procure the bare necessities of life. And, occasionally, get on Skype to remotely teach classes and hold office hours.

Mr. Kip did his best to describe what had happened. But mainly, all that happened is that he was tricked into raising a sand golem, so his testimony wasn’t that interesting.

The only highlight came when he was asked about his months out in the desert. He indicated that he found the desert mostly peaceful, but that he had recently seen something in the middle of the night that had disturbed him. He seemed very shook up about it, slumping forward, and mumbling what was (I believe) the word “appalling” over and over.

That part of his testimony probably didn’t mean anything, and probably doesn’t indicate anything is going to happen. As that famous T.V. lawyer, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, always says in her big closing arguments, “Past performance is not a predictor of future results.”

Nick Teller’s speech at the Museum of Forbidden Technologies is disastrously continuing to be heard by attendees. And, even more disastrously, the contents of this speech are being repeated on the radio.

He moved on from his energy tips to reminisce a bit about some projects of his that didn’t go exactly according to plan.

For instance, he said he once did some work on a boat in Pennsylvania [mispronounced], and a few mixed-up calculations meant that instead of the boat becoming invisible, as planned, it jumped through both time and parallel universes, horribly altering every human on board. [x]

But, Nick went on to emphasize, he didn’t let failures like that get him down, even though that particular failure was so spectacular that he had to change his name and fake his death in order to evade the consequences.

Whoo! This is inspiring stuff. Even though hearing it is completely illegal…as is, probably, repeating it on the radio.

Whoopsie!

Well, more from Nick as I continue to “accidentally” tell you what he’s saying.

But first, today’s traffic.

A spectrum of gray. The top-most gray is that of sunlight, filtered through high-altitude clouds. Then, through lower-altitude haze, darkening down on a monochromatic spectrum toward dirt that is gray…or, appears gray due to the quality of light.

Built up from the dirt are gray buildings, full of gray people speaking grayly.

“Yes, I’ll have another slice of pie,” they say.

“Business is looking as good as this pie,” they say.

“Pie tastes great, and is better, nutritionally, than most people think,” they say.

Colorless, toneless words. Gray faces slacking onto gray necks and gray bodies, gray dreams of a gray future that is neither good nor bad, but just what’s next. A gray life, lived grayly. Gray dreams through gray nights, electric lights too bright to ever let dark settle into dark, no great absence to contrast the stars, no rich black of the void, a gray night. Gray dreams. Gray life. Gray words. Gray buildings in a gray world and the light grays grayly through the gray.

This has been traffic.

And now, a word from our sponsors:

Today’s sponsor is Google. Looking for pictures of a monkey riding a pony? Just search that on Google and it will probably be there. Looking for pictures of a dog named Table? Search that, and I bet someone named their dog Table and took a picture.

How about an image of the exact moment of your death? I don’t know, that might be on there too. Give it a search!

The internet is huge. Whatever it is, it’s probably on there.

Google. Search for super-weird stuff. You’ll probably find something at least kind of similar.

This has been a word from our sponsors.

Well, it’s almost time for our weather report, and I have to admit, I’m surprised. I’d have thought, given some of the forbidden information we’ve been repeating from Nick Teller that we would have been shut down by now. But maybe I was wrong ab–

wrong ab–

wrong about–

wrong ab–

[Electronic rising tone]

–bout that–

shut down by now–

wrong–

wrong–

wrong–

wrong–

wrong–

g-g-g-g-g-g-gggggggggggggggggggg

[Electronic steady tone]

[“Table Song” by Katie Kuffel]

I’m finally back, listeners.

I’m sure you’ve noticed, over the past several days, that our usual broadcasts had been replaced by harsh buzzing and the occasional shout of “You’re not hearing anything right now, this isn’t sound!”

As I had kind of hoped, the World Government shut down our station. Which meant that I got a couple weeks off.

I had been needing a break, and the extra-legal closure of my place of work, and the forced reeducation of all of us who work there, gave me just the chance I needed.

In between reeducation sessions, I did a number of household chores that needed doing. Painting, gutter cleaning, and the like. The picking up, and the putting down, and the mending, and the clearing. Re-sodding my lawn after Michelle burned her statement into it. I had some quiet time with Carlos, and I re-watched the entire series of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Uh! I just love at the end of every episode, after she successfully wins the big court case, when she smokes cigars and cracks wise with her law firm partner, Angel. Ugh! So good.

I also dropped in on Nick Teller at his auto shop in the high school. He had just finished up feeding the cars and was grading some papers, but he kindly made time for a chat. I asked him if he wished things had turned out for him differently, if he wished that he hadn’t had to flee his old life and come to this town where his best inventions are suppressed by order of the World Government.

He smiled.

“No,” he said. “Honestly, I get it. The world has never been accepting of what I do, and I’m happy with my life here. I like teaching auto shop, I like working with young people, I like guiding them into a life of creating new things that will never see the light of day because they threaten the system as it is and the powers as they are. It’s rewarding work.”

I told him I was glad that he seemed to have found peace in his life. He said he was, too.

“After all,” he said, “what other choice would I have? It’s not like I can go back and fix my mistakes. Or…wait.”

He turned pensively and told me that he had some old papers he wanted to look through for purely nostalgic reasons, and asked if I could leave him to it. And so I did.

Listeners, maybe at some point Nick wanted to be something other than he was, but that doesn’t mean he is beholden to that dream he once had. It’s okay for him to be all right with who he is now. Acceptance is not failure. Sometimes acceptance is just acceptance.

Of course, one must always be open to new dreams, and new ambition. And if, at some point, Nick decides that he no longer wants to be an A.P. auto shop teacher, or if he decides he wants to alter history so he will never have even come here…then that, too, will be okay.

Stay tuned next for an unexpected gain in cabin pressure. No mask will help you. We weren’t prepared for things to go this way.

And goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight.

Today’s proverb: You know what would be great? If someone finally made a movie showing Spider-Man’s origin story. I’d love to finally see that on the big screen.

15/02/2016 13:18:34 ¶ ●

## Episode 82 - Skating Rink

If you’re happy, and you know it, then the chemtrails are finally working.

Welcome to Night Vale.

Today is the grand opening of the newest feature at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex: a skating rink! Ah!

Owner Teddy Williams said he has loved roller skating ever since he was a child, and it’s been a dream of his to build a skating rink in Night Vale. Williams said skate rentals are half off during this opening rink, and there will be music by local DJs every Friday night.

Williams also clarified that there is absolutely no way there is any underground city living below the rink.

“I double checked, triple checked,” Williams said. “There’s no way a portal to another civilization could be under there, because I built the skating rink on top of the old pet cemetery. No confrontational nation will come from the ground and attack us.”

Teddy said he did hear occasional growls and hisses, and even a few loud bird-like shrieks coming from the walls, but this is most likely just the ghosts of the dead animals whose corpses he disturbed when building the rink.

“It’ll be fiiiiiiine,” he added, as Joan Jett’s “I Love Rock n’ Roll” played loudly in the background.

The City Council announced today that flowers look especially pretty.

“Everyone go smell the flowers!” they snarled wistfully in unison. “Have you ever smelled one of those things? Just so full of color, and musk, and fluffy yellow dust. Here, smell this!” And they threw daisies all over the surprised reporters.

The Council asked if the sun looked like it was smiling.

“We just stare at that thing all day!” they sneered lovingly. “We think it is the kindest thing in the sky! Look!” The City Council then pointed up at the windowless conference room’s dropped ceiling.

Well, it’s so nice to hear the City Council in a good mood! I can’t think of the last time they’ve sounded so hopeful and cheery. Have they ever been in a good mood?

But you know, everyone here at the station, too, has been uncharacteristically friendly the past few days. Station Management, who…I only ever see as shadows and glowing orange lights in the corner office, and who regularly scream and– and cause the building to shake when the ad sales team doesn’t make quarterly goals…has been buying donuts for the staff. They also bought us a new claw hammer and a stone pounding board for making coffee.

Plus, this morning, they left a card on my desk thanking me. Yeah! Station Management, thanking me, and giving me a raise! I didn’t even know I was getting paid! Oof!

Well, so many people having a lovely day, I hope you’re having one too, Night Vale.

Our new sheriff followed up the City Council press conference with a report on the growing number of strangers in Night Vale. These strangers appear out of nowhere, and do not visibly move, other than their even, deliberate breaths. Sometimes they are suddenly closer, without anyone seeing them take a step.

The sheriff said they think the strangers are just people from Desert Bluffs, who have abandoned their wretched city to come live in Night Vale, but that the Secret Police are looking further into rumors that the strangers might be something else entirely.

When pressed about their opposition to Mayor Dana Cardinal’s financial assistance of Desert Bluffs, the sheriff brought out a several foot-high stone and sculpted an intricate series of interconnected geometrical shapes, each one balancing the next. The reporters watched the Sheriff for hours, until the sculpture was complete.

The Sheriff then added that they do not oppose the mayor on all issues.

“In fact, Mayor Cardinal is a good mayor. We just disagree on the issue of how to fight crime,” the sheriff said, still tightly gripping their stone carver. “For instance, I agree with the mayor about needing to open the Dog Park to dogs and people! I love dogs! I think it would be great if folks could take their dogs into the Dog Park.”

The sheriff then said that they saw the cutest beagle puppy the other day. Really, really cute! The sheriff leaned close into the mic and said, “Such a good boy! Gooooood doooooooooooooooog!”

Listeners, um, I’m getting word that the City Council was just seen in public, walking across the front lawn of City Hall, each of them carrying matching black cases. Witnesses were stunned, as the City Council is rarely seen outside of City Hall – despite their constant vacations.

Some reported that they heard the Council whistling Mariah Carey’s “Always Be My Baby,” but others reported that that must have been the bluebirds fluttering around just above their heads.

Some eyewitness accounts said that the Council wasn’t even walking, they were “strolling.” When has the City Council ever strolled? We didn’t know their bodies were even anatomically capable of that!

Someone else said, “Well that looks like skipping to me.” But that’s just ridiculous. Skipping? Is the City Council leaving town on another vacation? What put them in such a good mood?

More on this as it develops.

And now, a word from our sponsor. Here with that is Deb, a sentient patch of haze…and also, I think, our ad sales manager here at the station.

Deb: Oh, I don’t work for the station.

Cecil: But you regularly provide me with copy for our live spots. Oh, and you also read ads from various companies on the air. Do you work for an ad agency?

Deb: Cecil, please.

Cecil: But this is my show. If you don’t actually work at the station, or for the companies you’re pitching, I’d kind of like to know who you work for.

Deb: Shhh. Not everything can be an emergency.

Okay, then.

Human listeners, today’s show is brought to you by Pfizer. What does Pfizer do? What doesn’t Pfizer do?

Whoo! All the things Pfizer can help you with! We can’t even begin to describe it to you.

You know what? Pfizer is indescribable. How can you put it into words what Pfizer does? You can’t. You wouldn’t. No, you you absolutely would not. You would not dare describe what we do.

You’re still trying to describe us in your mind, aren’t you? Maybe Pfizer wasn’t articulate enough. Maybe Pfizer can’t trust you. You have betrayed Pfizer. Don’t say no.

Did you just say no?

Why are you always arguing with us!?! We give, and give, and give, and we never ask for anything other than money in return. We only ask for money, and that you try not to describe us in words! And what do you do? You give us lots of money, but you also try to describe us in words!

Pfizer. We can’t even with this right now.

Oh, stop!

Cecil: It sounds like you work for the pharmaceutical industry…

Deb: No, not you too, Cecil! I can’t be here anymore!

[Door slams]

Cecil: Wow! The door didn’t even move. I’m not even sure how she slammed it.

Listeners, I’m being – [chuckles] – I’m being distracted. Uh, intern Kareem has been pestering me to allow him to go skating. Since Station Management seems to be out of the office, he thinks now is the perfect time to take a long break and go check out the new Desert Flower Skating Rink.

Uhh…okay, I’m gonna let you go, Kareem, but only because it’s a news story. I want a full report on the new facility, okay? This is still your work time, Kar–

Oh. He just skated away. I need to sit him down and talk to him about professionalism. And where he got cool skates like those. They had lightning bolts on ‘em.

But first, we’ve just received a call from a controversial figure. Calling in from the jailhouse (I presume), while on trial.

Listeners, let’s go now to an exclusive interview with literal five-headed dragon Hiram McDaniels.

Hello, Hiram.

Hiram’s gold head: Howdy, Cecil. Uh, thanks for letting me on your show. I just, uh, wanted to call in and…y'know, clear up a few things about this trial.

Hiram’s green head: We will burn the courthouse to the ground! We will char the already charred remains of the human judge and jury!

Cecil: My understanding is that the jury is not all human. It’s a jury of peers, Hiram.

Hiram’s gold head: Well, now, uh, my green head is speaking metaphorically.

Hiram’s green head: We will scorch the scales of justice!

Hiram’s gold head: Yeah, like that.

The thing is, Cecil, uh, they are using computers to simulate five-headed dragons on the jury, but now they’re saying that a single five-headed dragon computer program counts as five separate jurors. So they’re only making one computer and then choosing seven human jury members. That hardly seems fair.

Hiram’s gray head: They don’t respect us at all.

Hiram’s gold head: No, no they don’t, gray head. They really don’t.

Plus, no computer can recreate the complexities of sentient dragons.

Hiram’s gray head: It’s offensive.

Cecil: Well, I know they looked for actual five-headed dragons, but there aren’t many out there that the city can find.

Hiram’s gold head: Well, my sister Hadassah is in town. I think she should be considered.

Cecil: Family members of the accused generally aren’t allowed on juries. But also, one of your heads, the violet one, is going to be a witness against you at the trial. Uh, how are things going within your own body?

Hiram’s gold head: They’ve put a hole in my cell wall so my violet head can be outside of the jail, since, uh, he is not charged with any crime.

Hiram’s violet head: I can hear you conspiring against me!

Hiram’s green head: Quiet, you traitorous stink! I will chew you from–

Hiram’s gold head: Hey, easy, Green. You’re not allowed to talk to Violet anymore. It would be witness tampering.

Hiram’s blue head: We shouldn’t even be talking to the media. Our lawyer said anything we say can be used in the trial.

Hiram’s gold head: My blue head is right, Cecil. I just wanted to use my phone call to get the word out about the unfair practices going on in this trial.

Hiram’s gray head: It is so unfair.

Cecil: Well, I’ll certainly look into this. Uh, are you having an okay day otherwise, Hiram?

Hiram’s gold head: I sure am, Cecil. Eh, despite my circumstances, everyone’s in pretty good spirits today. They, uh, served raw lamb in the mess hall and they let us watch a whole hour of the Lee Marvin marathon on the C-SPAN this afternoon.

Hiram’s green head: They showed Death Hunt! It was his finest work as an actor!

Hiram’s gray head: I think Gorky Park was one of his more interesting roles. But yeah…Death Hunt is pretty good.

Hiram’s blue head: Lee Marvin is a lighthouse in a stormy cinematic sea.

Hiram’s violet head: I personally prefer Cat Ballou!

Hiram’s green head: Silence, you withered newt!

Hiram’s gold head: All right there, Green.

Hey, uh, thanks for taking my call, Cecil.

Cecil: No, thank you, Hiram.

We’re getting good news from Teddy Williams down at the new skating rink that there are record crowds. So many people are showing up to skate. He didn’t realize how popular roller skating would be here.

We’re also getting bad news from Teddy that all of the lights have gone out. He’s hearing deep growls coming from not only the ghost pets in the walls, but loud shouts and snarls coming from the skaters themselves. He cannot see who it is, but he can definitely smell the metallic briny stench of blood.

He did not care to elaborate about how he is so familiar with the smell of blood, just that he’s sort of an expert in the matter and it’s definitely blood, and that no one else should come to the skating rink.

He whispered all of this from underneath the turntable of the DJ booth.

He reported seeing looming shadows in the near-black, the shadows of hulking figures with what appeared to be either antlers or very elaborate hats. He could feel the floor trembling beneath him, as if there were a stampede of beasts or a clash of angry gods.

Williams reported that he just once – just one time in his life! – wants people to be able to play arcade games and skate and bowl and drink sodas without fearing for their safety.

Listeners, do not go to the skating rink. And for those of you already there, take cover! Do not come out from your hiding place! Not even if they put on Pat Benatar!

As I wait for further news from Intern Kareem at the skating rink, let me take you now to the weather.

[“Thinking of Milk” by Tristan Haze]

Despite having a terrifying start, the new skating rink sounds like a huge success, and everyone seems to be having fun again.

It is clear now what has happened.

Intern Kareem said that when he arrived at the skating rink, he saw almost everyone from Night Vale. Leann Hart from the Daily Journal, John Peters (you know, the farmer?), Old Woman Josie, and the beings Kareem insists on calling angels. Judge Siobhan Azdaq, even the City Council was there! Their black cases were all opened, revealing white retro skates with thick red and blue piping.

It was a feel-good atmosphere on a feel-good day.

Kareem bought a soda, filled it with every flavor from the fountain, and put his bag in a locker. “Electric Lady” by Janelle Monáe was on and he raced to the floor to have his first skate to his favorite song, only to see a group of hulking figures with elaborate hats enter. Kareem stopped dead in his tracks, standing and shivering in front of this menacing group.

Kareem had never seen them before, but he recognized them immediately by their sound and their smell as the management of this radio station.

Kareem stiffened up and prepared an explanation, that he was here to work, uh, to report on the new skating rink, and– and that he was not slacking. But Station Management did not seem to notice him. They were gazing across the room at the City Council who, by this point, had all donned short shorts and headbands, and were twirling and spinning in unison around the rink.

Just as Beyoncé’s “XO” started playing, the City Council and Station Management all made eye contact. Station Management and City Council skated toward each other, and everything went dark. The record player scratched, and all went quiet…save for horrifying growls and animal screeching.

Kareem could smell something briny and metallic, like olives.

While everyone scrambled to hide in fear, Kareem – himself a young man in a new relationship – knew exactly what was going on. He put on the night vision goggles we require every one of our interns to carry at all times, and he watched as Station Management and the City Council met in the middle of the rink, joining arms, skating in slow happy circles, intermittently placing heads on shoulders, wanting to sneak kisses, but uncertain of the right moments, dozens of figures with hundreds of fingers all intertwined in defiance of our understandings of physical dimension, sighing hotly with romantic need and burning anticipation.

The City Council had brought live rodents, and they held them up gingerly to Station Management’s mouths, as Management chewed off pieces of the screaming creatures. When Station Management finished devouring the last bites, the City Council adorably brushed pieces of tail and fur from Station Management’s face, letting their fingertips (or…whatever it is at the end of whatever those appendages are) linger.

After a few circles around the rink, Management and the Council left together.

The aftermath of their budding romance is clear among the brand new polished hardwood floor of the skating rink, swirling hearts strung together, carved into the wood with their wheels.

The lights are back on now. Everyone is skating again. The stereo is blasting Parliament’s “Flash Light” with Hanson’s “Mmmbop” coming up next.

As a person in a long-term relationship, I know how fulfilling long love can be. I also remember the days of being single, and that is also fulfilling. But nothing is quite so thrilling, so unexpected and uncertain, as that moment in between those two states – single and in love. That short fire burst of irrational passion for a person…or people…or multidimensional entities you barely know but with whom you maybe want to be with always?

You know the thrall of hopeless wanting, where you long to hold the other so tightly as to become one. You think it is love, even when it is not. Love is patient, and understanding, and turbulent, and rock-like, ever confident in itself. But this early infatuation, these addictions to a new other, are some of life’s most fragile and ecstatic moments.

Well…I’m so happy for City Council and Station Management. They make a cute…couple.

Kareem said that he also saw former intern Maureen, her new puppy, and some boy in a hoodie all brooding in the corner. Maureen appeared to be making sardonic jokes at the expense of the new couple, and at the expense of the idea of dating itself.

Kareem said the dog was really cute, but there was something about the sight of Maureen and the hooded boy and the puppy that upset him. I told Kareem, “No, she’s always like that.”

Stay tuned next for the best hits of the 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s, 2000s, 2010s, 2020s, and beyond.

And as always, goodnight Night Vale. Goodnight.

Today’s proverb: Be careful what you wish for because it probably won’t come true, and life is mostly about expectation management.