03/09/2019 0:10:38 ¶ ●

## 153 - The Heist, part 1

Constellations are fan art depicting ancient gods.
Welcome to Night Vale.

I’ve said many times that science is neat. But sometimes it is also messy. Carlos converted one of our guest rooms into a laboratory so he can spend more time at home and get some needed renovations done on his laboratory downtown. Which seemed like a great idea, until I realized that it’s impossible to contain chemical odors and stains from getting all over the rest of the house. Not only did acid eat through our new Egyptian-tiled backsplash, but also a petri dish grew feet and walked outside, only to walk back inside tracking mud all over my new handwoven Svitzian rug. The last straw was when Carlos stained all of his shirt sleeves, not to mention his hands and, somehow, even the (cords) countertops a dull green, which completely threw off my kitchen color palette. I told Carlos he had to stop, but he insisted he had made a major breakthrough in his doorless fridge invention.
“Cecil, this is so exciting,” he said, bouncing up and down like a child who wants a toy or needs to pee. “The problem with refrigerators is the door. In order to put food in or take food out, you have to open the door, and that’s totally bad because it lets all the cool air out, raising the temperature of the other food inside. I told him that’s not that big of a problem, but his face darkened and he said, “Baking is an exact science, Cecil. If the butter is off my a couple of degrees, my croissants are ruined.”

I understood, but I asked that he find another place to conduct that particular experiment. He’s turning everything in our home a dull green, including his own skin. Fortunately, my sister Abby and her husband Steve Carlsberg just bought a new house. Ever since his promotion to vice president of the Last Bank of Night Vale, Steve has been saving up to buy a larger home for his family, one with a yard for dogs, no stairs and wider doors for his daughter Janice’s wheelchair, and even his own man cave, where he can raise bats and cultivate rare crystals. And they finally closed on their dream home this summer. They bought Janice a car too, complete with accessible hand controls, a state of the art sound system, and a moon roof that closes automatically at night so you never have to see that awful moon.
Anyway, there is also a giant empty storage shed out back of their new home, and Steve and Abby told Carlos he can work in the shed until his laboratory downtown is ready to use again. So far, it sounds like everything is working out fine for Carlos, although he did accidentally leave a large green handprint on Janice’s new car. The good news is, she thought it looked really cool, so she decided to leave it.

Listeners, I’m getting word that there’s a robbery taking place in downtown Night Vale. Three people have entered the Last Bank of Night Vale and are demanding money from the tellers. The robbers are wearing masks of former US presidents Richard Nixon, William Henry Harrison, and Emma Goldman. The Sheriff’s Secret Police, as well as the Sheriff’s Overt Police, are on the scene but the perpetrators have begun to take hostages and the police are trying to negotiate. The robbers have not stated any demands yet, so the police are left to guess what they want. One officer suggested giving them a million dollars, which was (-) [0:05:52] accepted by the fellow officers as a great idea. Because, while human lives cannot be distilled down to a monetary value, a million dollars is pretty cool.
But this idea was shot down by Sheriff Sam, who pointed out that the department does not have a million dollars.
“What if we got them a puppy?” another officer offered up. “My basset just had a litter and I thought we’d be able to sell them, but it’s definitely a buyer’s market out there for hounds,” the officer continued. “Anyway I’ve got a brown one with white spots and two white ones with brown stops. I’ve named the Chutney, Footstool and Bob Ross. Footstool is the runt, let’s give them Footstool.”
“We’re not giving them puppies,” Sheriff Sam shouted.
“Oo, what about an Applebee’s gift card?” another officer said. “Worth a million dollars.”
“Or a coupon book for free favors,” another said, “like repainting the guest room or raking leaves or – oh, wait, we’re the police right? A free crime day! They, they could use that coupon today, and we don’t have to arrest them and file all the paperwork, and the hostages get to go free. We could even have a coupon for a 15 minute backrub.”

All of the officers clapped for this idea, not just a win-win but a win-win-win, for the hostages, the robbers and the police. All except Sheriff Sam, who silenced them all with a loud whistle. More like a pan flute, really. It’s an enchanted whistle that causes vocal cords to stop working.
“We are police,” the Sheriff scolded. “It is clearly stated in our oath of office to never give backrubs to bank robbers.”
They then set to work trying to devise a plan to stop the robbery and free the hostages in the bank.
Oh dear. Uh, listeners, I was just talking about my brother-in-law Steve, and here comes this terrible news. Um, I have no further information about Steve’s condition right now, nor the other citizens who are being held at gunpoint inside the bank. I will update you as events progress.

In the meantime, let’s go to sports.
The Night Vale high school Scorpions opened their season this Friday against the Whispering Forest Wood Dogs. Scorpion’s head coach Latrice Beaumont said this will be a tough match up. The Wood Dogs, a team entirely comprised of trees, are roundly regarded as one of the toughest defenses in the state, with their tactic of whispering compliments to opposing players, until those players themselves turn into trees.
Last season, Whispering Forest dealt to Night Vale its only loss, as nine of the Scorpions starting offensive players, including quarterback Junius Duncan, were won over by the Wood Dogs’ pleasant cooing. By the end of the game, the field was covered in trees, many of them former Night Vale high school student athletes. And Whispering Forest snuck out with a 3-to nothing win on the late field goal, that was somehow kicked by a tree.
Coach Beaumont says she plans to give her players ear plugs to help dampen the whispers from the Wood Dogs’ defense. She also has uglied up the Scorpions’ uniforms adding mustard yellow and hot pink argyle atop the dark purple jerseys, hoping that the arborial defenders will find little good to say. The Scorpions are starting a new quarterback this season, sophomore (phenome) [0:09:20] Julie Dobbs, who won the job because of her prophetic dreams. Her slumbering subconscious is able to see the future, most notably other teams’ defensive strategies. She also uses her dream journals to develop a nearly unstoppable offensive game plan. She also owns her own football, which was a huge plus for the coaches. Good luck this weekend, Scorpions! We’re pulling for you.

I now have the names of the hostages being hold at the Last Bank of Night Vale. Jesse McNeil, a security guard who has worked at the bank for nearly 50 years, oh Jesse. What a sweet old man. He says hi to me every time I go there, always has a smile and a compliment. Why, just the other day he said to me, “Heard you on the radio, Cecil, and I was beaming with pride.”
Another hostage, bank teller Genevieve Daly, who started at the bank this week. Oh Genevieve, what a tough break. Just now that we’re pulling for you.
Bank customer and dinosaur expert Joel Isenberg. Oh Joel, I know Joel! He’s such a smart guy.
And the last of the hostages: staff supervisor of the bank, Susan Willman. OK well, tough.

Unfortunately, after several grueling minutes, negotiations between the sheriff and the robbers have broken down. So the police have decided that the only way to break the stalemate is with physical force. While this makes sense in chess, I don’t know if this is such a good idea for hostage negotiations, listeners. But the police have advanced into the building to engage the thieves directly.

Witnesses reported hearing several gunshots, but they said the noises could also be fireworks, part of the day long celebration of Lee Marvin’s 31st birthday, which was back in June. Oh. Happy late birthday, Mr. Marvin. You don’t look a day over 30.

We cannot see inside the bank and no one has emerged yet. I will have to report back later as soon as I have – oh no wait, wait. I’ve been told that the bank is on fire now. The west wall of the bank is engulfed in flames and the Night Vale fire department is already on the scene. They are shouting at the fire to stop being such a nuisance, but the fire does not appear to be listening.

Oh, this isn’t good.
And even more frightening for me, I did not see Steve Carlsber’s name on the list of hostages. Abby told me he was at work today, but why was he not taken hostage? I can only hope he had gone to lunch when the robbery began. Steve, if you hear this and you’re at lunch, don’t go back to work, it’s on fire.
I feel so powerless. All I can do is hope
And bring you the weather.

[My Friend” by Dominique Chantel Worthing with Barrett Ward, https://soundcloud.com/dominique-worthing ]

First, the good news. The hostages have been freed. Inside the bank, the police drew their weapons on the robbers, but could not get off a clean shot because of the hostages blocking their line of fire. The robbers fired back, forcing the police to retreat behind a Coinstar machine and a full sized promotional cardboard cutout featuring a hooded man, his jagged smile just barely visible in shadow, holding a raw slab of red meat with the bold tex below him reading: “Great mortgage rates are inside of you”.
But the second wave of officers blocked the thieves’ escape from the front entrance. Then, and Sheriff Sam did not see how this happened, but a fire began in the bank lobby. It spread quickly and the room filled with smoke. In the confusion, the hostages broke free from their captors and the robbers ran from the police. Fire engines sprayed water and broadcasted loud admonishments at the fire to knock it off already.

Susan, Joel, Genevieve and Jesse ran out into the street covering their faces, choking on the black air. As Jesse emerged, his 75-year-old body was knocked backwards by one of he fire engines’ hoses. Jesse was soak head to foot. The firefighters apologized, but Jesse merely brushed himself off and then generously complimented their work by saying, “I see you’re fighting a fire.” What a gentleman. The three perpetrators of the bank robbery also fled through the front of the building, but the police quickly halted and arrested them. As the fire finally subsided, amidst the damp charred masonry and broken glass, came another figure. Steve Carlsberg emerged from the bank, sweating and limping, but safe. An ambulance arrived to take the survivors to the hospital, but they all declined, except Steve who had a broken foot and gladly took the EMTs up on their offer. The bank robbers were transported to the abandoned mine shaft outside of town for questioning. It’s an open and shut case. The bad people lose and the good people win, and every single person, even the people who own Applebee’s, is glad no one had to purchase a one million dollar Applebee’s gift card. My brother-in-law is safe, as are his employees and customers. No one died and not a single dollar was taken from the bank registers at the front counter, nor the ATMs, nor the Coinstar. Even the fire didn’t damage those bills.

That was the good news. The bad news: as the police did a final sweep of the bank, searching for anyone else inside, whether they be customers or criminals, they reached the bank’s vault in the back of the building. Before he left the hospital, the police asked Steve Carlsberg to open the vault for them.
“We’re sure everything’s fine, “they said. “It’s routine in a bank robbery,” they said.
“I understand,” Steve said. He opened the vault, they looked inside, and they saw nothing. Millions of dollars in bills and gold were gone.
Sheriff Sam said there’s a conspiracy here, and they’re going to really put the screws to the people they arrested. “No HBO until they explain where the money from the vault,” the Sheriff declared. And that’s a big deal, because a black lady’s sketch show just premiered last month and is crazy good. The Sheriff said they have no clues yet as to where the money in the vault went, but they did discover the robbers’ names are Richard, William, and Emma. Which is interesting because those are the names of the presidents whose masks they wore.
“I don’t think that’s a coincidence,” the Sheriff said confidently.
The bank lost a great deal of money today and some innocent people lost their sense of comfort, but we are all still alive. At least those in this story are, and I’m so happy to know my brother-in-law is safe, as are Jesse and Joel and Genevieve, whom I’ve never even met. I’m glad those specific people are OK as well as anyone else who was taken hostage today.

Stay tuned next for an unedited recording from two years ago of you talking to a kitten. You sound ridiculous.

Good night,
Night Vale,
Good night.

Today’s proverb: Don’t go writing metaphors. Please stick to the similes and literal descriptions that you’re used to.

18/09/2019 1:40:08 ¶ ●

## 154 - The Heist, part 2

You have orbited the sun. You have been to the Milky Way galaxy.
You have seen the moon.
You are an astronaut.
Welcome to Night Vale.

The Sheriff’s Secret Police announced today that they have no new leads into the ongoing investigation of the robbery at the Last Bank of Night Vale. The three people who stormed into the bank, held the staff and single customer at gunpoint, but did not at first even ask for any cash from the registers’ drawers. And yet in only a few minutes, and with no damage to or forced entry into the vault, they had managed to steal millions of dollars from it. Sheriff Sam described the details of the robbery as follows.

The robbers entered the bank repeatedly shouting “This is a robbery” and waving their guns around. After a minute or so, teller Genevieve Daly finally asked: “Do you want me to give you money?”
“Um, yes,” the robbers decided. “We want you to give us money.”
“How much money?” Genevieve asked.
“How much do you have?” the robbers replied.
Genevieve then had to count the money in her till, which took a while, because bank protocol requires that tellers count the money multiple times, until the total amount matches twice in a row. But on her second count, Genevieve was two dollars off from her first, so she had to start over.
“Hang on,” she told the masked intruders, “gotta do it again.”
“No worries, the robbers said, truly looking like they were not worried.
Customer Joel Eisenberg, who had dropped face down on the floor the moment guns were drawn, immediately handed over his wallet to the robbers.
“What’s this for?” the robbers asked Joel.
“You’re robbers, aren’t you?” Joel said, careful not to look directly into their eyes. “I’m giving you my money, not trouble.”
“Cool, cool,” the robbers said without looking in the wallet.
Genevieve’s manager, Susan Willman, stood behind her new employee nervously explaning to the thieves, “I don’t have access to the vault. I-I-I don’t know the combination.”
“That’s fine,” the robbers said.
The security guard on duty that day and every day for the last 50 years was Jesse McNeil. Jesse does not carry a gun, so he couldn’t intervene, but he has always been known for his friendly charm and grace. He tried the old “kill them with kindness” approach by complimenting the fine work the robbers were doing.
“I understand you’re robbing our bank,” Jesse said.
The robbers cooed and said, “What a nice thing to say, old man, thank you.”
“You can’t tell because we are wearing plastic masks of former US presidents,” said the robber with the face of Richard Nixon, “but we are blushing, kind sir.”
Within minutes, the Sheriff’s Secret Police had arrived.
“Who called the police?” the robbers asked, but without urgency, as if it was the first table read of a pilot TV script.
“I did not,” Susan and Genevieve said at the same time.
“I left my phone in my car,” Joel said from the floor.
“I am sitting in a chair by the door,” Jesse said and the robbers guffawed at the audacity of this old man, so highly complimenting himself.
“Well we have to take hostages now,” the robber said and soon, the police had entered the bank. There was a brief shootout with no injuries, and the robbers were apprehended and the hostages freed shortly thereafter. There was also a fire that engulfed the front of the bank, which helped their efforts to arrest the perpetrators, but police do not understand how it started. They believed it was a diversion, during which time the criminals were able to empty the vault. But they have no leads yet on where this money was taken or how they got into the vault.

The only other person in the bank that day was vice president Steve Carlsberg, who was not taken hostage, because he had accidentally locked himself in his office. Oh, Steve.
Steve said that he eventually kicked his door open, breaking his foot in the process. Oh, Steve! He got free, but only after the criminals had been arrested and the fire extinguished.

None of the three robbers is talking to the police, even after their HBO privileges were taken away from them, so the sheriff is asking anyone in Night Vale with information about this heist to contact him immediately. You can do this by calling the Sheriff’s Secret Police secret tip line, which can be reached by just speaking aloud. They are one of the several organizations that have universal access to your phone’s mic and camera.

I talked to Carlos today. He’s been running his experiments over at my sister Abby’s new house, in an old storage shed out back because, well his laboratory is under renovations and he was making such a huge mess over here with all of his chemicals staining everything. Abby is, of course, married to Steve Carlsberg who is home from the hospital with the cast on his foot. Carlos told me Steve is fine. He is having a hard time adjusting to crutches and he’s still shaken by the whole experience. But he’s focused on rebuilding the bank and getting everyone back to work. He’s been inviting his employees over for lunch this week, to keep everyone on task for reopening the bank, and to treat them to his famous medium rare rosemary chicken recipe.

Carlos said he had met Susan Willman several times before.
“She’s delightful,” Carlos said, which I’m sure I misread. He’s also met Jesse before too.
“Oh, he’s always over there, real nice guy,” Carlos said. “He once told me, ‘you’re a scientist’, and it was the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to me. So I showed him my lab and just talked his ear off about my doorless fridge project. Jesse got so excited he had to leave after only 15 minutes.”
Carlos said that since the robbery, though, Jesse has not looked as cheerful or healthy. Jesse looks sick, like he’s nauseated.

Carlos said he joined the crew for lunch today and cheered them all up with funny stories about science, but he’s taking a break from his experiments and should be home early today. Carlos ran out of the chemicals he needed to continue his work, and has to wait a few more days to get more.
“I thought I has plenty of it,” Carlos said, “I calculated exactly how much I needed, but it wasn’t near enough. Well, this is why I studied science instead of math.
“Anyway, Steve’s going to be fine,” Carlos said. “I love you.”
And I said, “I love you too.”
You might think that last part wasn’t necessary for the news story, but it was. Love is the most important news story.

The Sheriff’s Secret Police have announced a breakthrough in their bank robbery investigation. They’ve been interviewing witnesses and combing through their notes and evidence, and they think they have figured out exactly what happened at the bank. They’re planning a full report later today. They had the report ready to go now, but right when they started the press conference, they realized that they probably should make an arrest first, and also because in their excitement to make this announcement, every single person on the police force showed up, leaving the abandoned mine shaft where they keep prisoners unattended, which is probably fine because the cells are all completely locked, but - wow, you never know, right? Better safe than sorry.
“Hoo wee,” the representative from the Secret Police said, “We really should go check on that jail. My bad!”

And now a word from our sponsors.
Today’s show is brought to you by Budweiser. Have you ever wondered about that house at the end of your street, the one with the windows boarded up? The one that does ever receive sunshine? The one with the incongruous Victorian architecture in your otherwise ranch style tract home suburb? Have you ever dared your friends to spend a night in that house? And they did it, because they don’t like being called weak, and then they re-emerged the next day completely normal as if nothing had happened, only something did happen? Like you couldn’t tell at first because your friend was like, “It was just a house, totally boring”, but you started noticing weird things in their behavior, like they suddenly were fluent in Romanian and they would whisper it to someone you could not see? And then there was that time your friend laughed for 10 straight minutes, and you did not know why, never learned why, and when they finished laughing, all of the trees in your neighborhood were dead?
Well, we here at Budweiser know exactly what made your friend laugh, and we know what happened in the house that night. And some day, you will know it. but not today. No, not today.
Budweiser: Be glad today is not the day.

The bank robbery earlier this month has understandably shaken customer confidence. So vice president of the Last Bank of Night Vale, Steve Carlsberg, has called a press conference to address public concerns over the security of their bank accounts and investments. Here’s Steve’s statement.

Steve Carlsberg: First I wanna say thank you to all of my valiant and valuable employees. They faced down danger, and without their bravery, we might all be much less fortunate. To Susan Willman, my dear friend: thank you for your leadership under such duress. To Genevieve, our newest employee: you deserve the quickest raise we’ve ever given out, and I promise it won’t always be like this. And to Jesse: you protected our bank for nearly 50 years, and your training finally paid off. Thank you for your service to our safety.
And Joel Eisenberg, our lone customer, who stared down those monsters and did not give an inch: to you I say thank you.

I want the people of Night Vale and the customers of the Last Bank to know that we have your security in mind. We are cooperating with the Secret Police, and while this crime is not completely resolved, no customer has lost a single dollar of their savings. We are well insured, and I guarantee you [muffled] all protections are in place.

Cecil: But while Steve Carlsberg was talking, the Sheriff’s Secret Police returned to finish their announcement from earlier.

Steve: Wait, I’m not done yet!

Cecil: Seeing that Steve had claimed the podium in their disorganized absence, the Secret Police had to stand at the back of the room and wait impatiently. Their feet tapping, arms folded, each of them exhaling deeply and intermittently, one of them groaning aloud, “Is he done yet? Ugh.”

Steve: OK, yes, but…

Cecil: One of them staring demonstrably at the clock.

Steve: ..I signed up for this time slot at the podium and no one was here when I arrived, so I’d like to finish. [pause] Are we good? OK, fantastic. So uh, where was I? Oh, I was trapped in my office! I regret that I was not standing with my brave staff during this terrible event, but see, I think someone barred my door to prevent me from coming out there, really letting those robbers have it! I’m a nice guy, but not when my family is in danger. And these people, Genevieve, Susan, Jesse – they are my family. Joel and every other bank customer is my family, and I would do anything, anything, to protect them if they were threatened.

Cecil: Just then, the Secret Police – did you know that a group of police officers is called an obstinency of cops? [ahem] Marched to the podium declaring: “Four o’clock, your time’s up.” Two officers grabbed the mic shouting “Dibs” simultaneously, and then had to play rock, paper, water torture to see who got to speak.

Steve: Hey, hey watch it buddy! I-I-I mean officer. Sorry, uh…

Cecil: The police then announced they had in fact left all of the cells at the abandoned mine shaft locked earlier today, but somehow the three bank robbers escaped. Their cell was still locked and no tunnels or holes were found, yet the three were completely gone.
“Dang it,” the police spokesperson said. “The important thing is we tried our best. Anyway,” they continued, “we’re proud to say that we have made an important breakthrough in the bank heist case. We have made a new arrest of the person we believe responsible of the theft at the Last Bank of Night Vale.

Steve: Oo, that’s great!

Cecil: The police then turned to Steve Carlsberg and said: “We have arrested our prime suspect in this conspiracy: Steve Carlsberg.”

Steve: What?

Cecil: The police handcuffed Steve. Oh, Steve…

Steve: No! (–) I didn’t (–) [yelping, inaudible]

Cecil: And led him outside to the back of a squad car. Listeners, I-I-I, I wish I could tell you I’m happy that the police think they have solved this bank robbery, but I cannot tell you that, this is not right. Steve would never. [sighs] While I sit with my feelings, you will sit
With the weather.

[“Only One Star” by Ann https://soundcloud.com/carlitta-ann]

Sheriff Sam talked to reporters. These reporters were confused and angry, upset that such a good man, their brother-in-law in fact, could be confused for a master criminals. The Sheriff said the robbery of the bank vault required inside knowledge, someone who worked at the bank, someone who knew the combination of the vault, and could get the money without any damage to the vault, walls or door. Steve is the only employee present who knew the combination. The frustrated, enraged reporters then asked what happened to the money. If Steve stole the money, as they said, surely the police must have recovered it. Sheriff Sam said it’s clear the money has been spent on luxury. The suspect, Steve Carlsberg, bought a brand new house with a storage shed even, the most obvious symbol of opulence.
“But he closed on that house weeks ago,” the infuriated reporters stated. “How could he have paid for something before he had the money?”
The Sheriff then held up a life-sized promotional cardboard cutout featuring the text “Great mortgage rates are inside of you”.
The Sheriff said: “He used something called a mortgage, and elaborate financial scheme where you don’t have to pay until later, a brilliant and evil ploy for bank robbers.”
“Mortgages are normal, I have a mortgage,” the displeased reporters responded. “Maybe you’ll be arrested next,” the Sheriff spat. “Also, Steve Carlsberg bought a fancy car for his daughter. He even upgraded the vehicle with hand controls for braking and acceleration. We could tell right there we was flaunting his stolen wealth.”
“She’s in a wheelchair,” the disgusted reporters snapped back. “Those controls are necessary and standard.”
The Sheriff shrugged and said: “You say tomato, I say criminal.”
And with that, they stepped away, smug in their arrest of this innocent man.

I didn’t know what to do, so I called Carlos. He said he was coming home early today, but I haven’t seen him yet. He didn’t answer his phone, so I called my sister Abby. She was understandable upset about her husband’s arrest. I told her I would do everything in my power as an investigative journalist to vindicate Steve, even if it means starting a podcast. She sighed and said: “I know.”
When I asked if Carlos was still at her house, she said: “He’s gone.”
“Oh good. I’ll see him soon then,” I replied.
“No,” Abby said, “You won’t. the police were just here questioning me and Janice. Then they took Carlos with them to the station. They said they’re not done with their investigation.

Listener, stay tuned next for a song and language you have never heard, written in a key not on any scale, played in a time signature that changes with each measure.

Good night,
Night Vale,
Good night.

Today’s proverb: The gum you like is out of style again.