23/08/2013 12:08:00 ¶ ●

## Episode 17 - Valentine

Trust everyone.

Welcome to Night Vale.

Hello, citizens of Night Vale. I bring you now to our ongoing coverage of the Valentine’s Day aftermath. Emergency workers have been at it since early this morning, starting the long task of cleanup and recovery.

Reports are still hazy, but we believe that the housing developments of Marshall’s Gorge and Golden Dunes have both been wiped completely off the map, while Coyote Corners and Cactus Bloom are reporting extensive damage to structures and power lines.

Please, if you are not directly involved in the recovery and cleanup from Valentine’s Day, stay off the roads to make room for those who are.

This Valentine’s Day, as all Valentine’s Days, will not succeed in bringing our city down. This Valentine’s Day, as all Valentine’s Days, will soon recede into painful memory, fading with time, until another foul Valentine’s Day is upon us again.

In other news, the Randy Newman Memorial Night Vale Airport has announced some schedule changes due to multiple severe weather conditions, including the existence of an atmosphere, and that strange fiery orb that appears for approximately half of every twenty-four hour period. Many of today’s flights will be delayed for several hours while the rest will be moved into the past and will have already happened last week.

All arriving flights have been canceled except those from JFK, LAX, and XTA, which will continue on the usual routine of unscheduled arrivals that are a complete surprise to both the pilots and Air Traffic Control – based on routes that appear to violate the simple laws of physics and geography.

In addition, Martin McCaffrey – local TSA representative – reminded all travelers that security measures are in place for their own safety, and we should respect the sacrifice needed to keep our lives and our country secure.

Martin said, “I know going through both a metal and full-body scanner, as well as crawling through a lengthy pitch-black tunnel while a recording of a monotone male voice lists possible ways of dying are all inconveniences, and I know that many travelers are concerned with privacy issues involving the voice of a small child that comes through strategically placed ceiling grates asking them to name every person they have ever kissed. But these are all necessary evils.”

Mister McCaffrey then went on to draw a quick sketch of a strange, elongated, dark figure crawling out of a kitchen refrigerator – after which he immediately insisted he had no memory of creating the picture and no idea what it could mean.

More on this…eventually. Probably.

Hey, here’s a health tip from the greater Night Vale medical community!

It’s possible you won’t be able to kill it. If it manages to burrow under your skin, stop fighting, because it has already become part of you. Welcome your new bodymate! Listen to what it has to say. And see where the new symbiotic lifestyle takes you!

Emergency workers report that the damage from Valentine’s Day is worse than previously projected. They describe bodies strewn upon the ground, covered in glitter and paper cupids. Entire buildings collapsed, leaving only rubble and chalky candy hearts.

And, of course, there is the sad fate of those chosen to be another person’s Valentine. Little can be said to help the families of those unfortunates except that the process is, while exactly as ghastly and excruciating as feared, apparently not as horribly slow and drawn out as it appears to outside observers.

As usual, no aid has come our way from either the state or national government. The state House even went so far as to send a formal reply, the entirety of which reads:

“Sorry…we can see what you were going for, but maybe we just don’t ‘get’ that kind of thing. Anyway, creative stuff! And have a happy Valentine’s!”

Those monsters!

If you or anyone you know has any footage or photos of the events of Valentine’s Day, please send them directly into the station so that we may put the images and video on the radio. Thank you, and be safe.

The City Council recently moved to name “dance” as the official town language. This measure has been met with tense debate and raised voices over the past several weeks. Proponents say we need a unified language, as it will save money on municipal signage and documentation – not to mention bring us together as a community.

“The poetry of the human body,” they said, while quickly pulling in their elbows and turning their bowler hats down over their eyes in an obvious tribute to Bob Fosse, “mates physical being with mental necessity; a marriage that brings purpose to our quickly rotting living corpses.”

Opponents say that this move, if voted into law, is discriminatory against the physically handicapped. Also, less than 10% of Night Vale citizens have ever taken a single dance lesson – let alone achieved lifelong mastery of one of the most ethereal and difficult-to-grasp art forms.

One opponent, who asked to remain nameless out of fear of retribution, told us the bill was entirely funded by lobbyists from Cheryl’s Little Princesses Dance Studio. “Just follow the money,” they said.

Then the anonymous insider’s pupils grew until they eclipsed the whites. Their tongue slid out from their knife gash of a grin, and their hair would not stop graying and growing.

A final vote is expected on Tuesday.

And now, traffic.

A representative from the Sheriff’s Secret Police, waving vaguely at a map in our studio, said that there are street closures, quote “all over. Just all over the general area,” the representative said, tapping the edge of the map with two knuckles. “A bunch of 'em, in…different places.”

We asked if he could be more specific, and he nodded, but did not say anything more. We tried naming a couple of streets to see if any of them were included on the list of closures, but the representative only replied with a, “Oh, yeah, I mean…probably!” and an ambiguous head waggle to each one. He added that anyone caught on a closed road would be dealt with in the usual manner, and then he winked and gave me a thumbs-up.

It is possible he was merely a vagrant who wandered into the studio. We didn’t bother to check his credentials. Just to be safe, though, look out for road closures all over in the general area, listeners. They’re in a bunch of different places…probably.

This has been traffic.

And now for corrections. We offer the following corrections to previous reports broadcast on Night Vale Community Radio.

1. Blue, not green.
2. A low whirring sound was heard only by those to the west of it.
3. The witness’ name was Henry Greggson and not, as we reported, Crystal Souleater.
4. We were feeling, at best, fine…and not, as we stated on the record, “Pretty good, thanks!”
5. No. No. Do not do what we advised. We were so terribly terribly wrong. If you have done it already, well…our heart goes out to those who miss you. Please forgive us. Please forgive us!

This has been corrections.

More post-Valentine’s Day news:

The Night Vale Mall’s planned Valentine’s Day art installation, involving footage of actual beating animal hearts projected on a vivisected teddy bear, was canceled due to the entire mall being flooded with poisonous gas.

The gas was described as “difficult to breathe,” and “a major cause of death to those who stood in it.”

Mall PR officials expressed regret at the cancellation, saying, “Man! It’s like every time an artist has a bold new idea, the system has to come in and shut them down!" They concluded by muttering, "It stinks man! It stinks!” before going off to sulk in the Red Cross medical tent.

Emergency workers, meanwhile, report coming across a stash of un-activated Valentine’s Day cards – forcing them to cease operations until a specialized team could be called in to deal with the danger. Three workers died before they could retreat.

Also, Night Vale Community Radio intern Stacey died, a couple of months ago, soon after our last mention of her. Our sympathies go to the loved ones of those who are lost, especially Stacey. Sorry that I didn’t get around to telling you until now, that was totally my fault.

Mayor Pamela Winchell issued the following statement today in regards to the increasing public support for her ouster and replacement by dashing inmate and blogger Hiram McDaniels.

Winchell said, “The Mayor smells of olives. The Mayor burns like a match tip and casts her flickering light on the darkened path of fate. The Mayor does not have keys to the Stone Door; the Mayor is the Stone Door and all that quivers behind it. The Mayor is forgiving. The Mayor makes no mistakes. The Mayor clutches tightly to your lungs, all six arms embracing your savory breaths. Let the Mayor out. Let the Mayor out. Let the Mayor out.”

There were no follow-up questions, but the press pool did let out a simultaneous “ohmmmmm” as fire burst forth from the podium, and the conference room ceiling flew away revealing a midday night sky that had grown cancerous with blinking stars.

McDaniels is still in jail, awaiting trial for insurance fraud and evasion of arrest. He has previously announced interest in becoming mayor of Night Vale and is a 3,600-pound, five-headed dragon.

In other news, several alert citizens have reported that the Night Vale Post Office – closed since the strange and probably supernatural attack that it suffered several months ago – now appears to be open for business once again. This is good news for all of us, as we – as a city – have been unable to send or receive letters and packages since the closing. All private delivery companies of course refuse to enter the greater Night Vale area because, a FedEx spokesperson explained, “It is cursed.”

Witnesses say the post office has opened its doors and looks to be full of activity. There have been a few changes.

For instance, all clerks behind the counter are now strange cloth-wrapped figures who hum tunelessly and turn in place instead of doing any sort of official postal business. In addition, the entire customer line and lobby area is full of more of these cloth-wrapped figures, all similarly turning and humming. Those who have tried to enter the building have reported an immediate wave of dizziness and nausea, followed by visions of strange jagged peaks and a churning black ocean.

Also, they say, stamps now cost two cents more than a few months ago. It is not enough, apparently, for the postal service to violently assault our minds with visions, but they are also intent on bleeding our wallets dry. For shame!

But hey, at least everyone can get Amazon deliveries again. As their slogan says, “Amazon.com – The only website now. Where did the rest of them go? Do not ask. Do not ask.”

And now, the weather.

[“Neptune’s Jewels” by Mystic]

Ladies and gentlemen, emergency workers report that they have reached Old Town Night Vale, and further report that it is a scene out of a nightmare – assuming you have had the usual nightmare in which Old Town received minor structural damage and debris, with no serious injuries.

Emergency workers report that they have treated those who need treating, and have cleared away what needed clearing away.

They report that the usual stress of day-to-day life was worse…but now it seems better. And that later, they project, it will be worse again.

Emergency workers report that they are feeling good about stuff in general, for once.

Emergency workers report that they are smiling, and they don’t even know why.

Emergency workers report a cloud. Just that. A cloud.

“And isn’t it funny how we often don’t notice little things like that?” they report.

Well, listeners. It seems perhaps that we have come through this day and reached some other side. Not unaffected, no, not unchanged, but here. After all, this Valentine’s Day, as all Valentine’s Days, will not succeed in bringing our city down. This Valentine’s Day, as all Valentine’s Days, will soon recede into painful memory, fading with time until another foul Valentine’s Day is upon us again.

Stay tuned next for me saying “Goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight.”

Goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight.

Today’s proverb: Werner Herzog is the most interesting person.