Episode 59 - Antiques
It’s not darkest before the dawn. It’s actually darkest after all the stars have gone out. It’s very dark then.
Welcome to Night Vale.
We begin this new year with some troubling news. Frances Donaldson, owner of the Antiques Mall, has reported that some of her antiques have escaped. She said that when she fed them this morning, they were all accounted for. But when she went back for the usual mid-afternoon watering, the fence had been cut and over half of the antiques were missing.
“They didn’t escape,” she corrected reporters, who were just trying to talk to her a bit about what had happened, were just doing their best to help her out, and so didn’t need to have their heads bitten off for using a different word, but…whatever.
“They didn’t escape,” she said. “They were set free.”
All surveillance cameras in the immediate vicinity – and this is not a particularly interesting or dangerous part of Night Vale, so there were only three hundred and forty-four – had been disabled, or moved to point away from the antiques pen, or had their tapes replaced with VHS cassettes full of Matlock episodes, recorded and re-recorded over each other so that each tape shows ghosts of every Matlock at once – a single, unified, Matlock, through the flicker and warp of video age.
The Secret Police warn citizens that antiques are wild animals, and while generally friendly, their behavior can be unpredictable. If you see an antique, do not approach it. Simply put your hands over your chest, scream “We’re all about to be eaten!” and run blindly away.
“Although it’s possible this may cause the antique to instinctually go into hunting behavior and chase you. We didn’t bother to check. Look, we were kind of busy. Was there something stopping you from doing this research?” the Sheriff’s Secret Police concluded, before shaking their heads and melting back into the walls.
StrexCorp Synernists Inc., the company you might remember as our former unfriendly overlords – or you might not remember them if your memory has been altered or erased. Anyway, StrexCorp is, of course, owned by beings that are…difficult to describe without using the illegal term “angels,” but who are all named Erika. As part of their continual process to turn the power of StrexCorp toward the betterment of our world, the Erikas have started the process of releasing those people whose lives StrexCorp took possession of, back during what could be termed it’s “bad boy days” or “dystopian capitalist hell days” – whichever you prefer.
Among those released is Janice Rio (from down the street), last seen entering a condo, which you should definitely never do. Never go into a condo.
Also released: Lucy and Hannah Gutierrez, former owners of the former White Sand Ice Cream Shop that’s bankruptcy led to their lives being confiscated by Strex. They are looking well and fit, no worse for the wear than any ordinary person who is, say, imprisoned by the City Council in the Abandoned Mine Shaft outside of town for voting incorrectly on municipal elections. Ha-ha, we all experience extra-legal extended imprisonment at some point in our lives, after all.
They pledge to restart their ice cream shop, and are currently running a Kickstarter to gather together the funds. In order to get better results, the Kickstarter is labeled as being for a blender you can plug an iPhone into to get real-time blending stats and earn blending points on The Blending Community. It is not actually for that, though, it’s for an ice cream shop! And I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to have another bite of that magical Gutierrez ice cream.
Chad Bowinger, who lives in the Shambling Orphan housing development down by the Haunted Baseball Diamond, said “It is a sadness, what we do to each other. It is a weeping, and a gnashing of teeth.”
I don’t think this was in relation to StrexCorp, or Kickstarter, but he walked by and said that to me, so I thought I’d throw it in. Thanks, Chad!
And now another edition of the Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner.
Stick out your tongue. Farther…farther…is that really as far as you can get it? I bet you can get it a little farther than that!
Wow! That’s, like, three feet! Honestly, I– I expected an inch or so. Uh!Oh! Uh…now it’s at five feet! How– how long is your tongue? How long is a tongue supposed to be? Um, uh, can we get someone to check on that?
Th– this is starting to freak me out a little, your endless tongue. This was supposed to be a fun and challenging exercise, but now I’m questioning everything about myself and my life. I'm– I’m shivering! Your– your tongue is reaching out the door, it’s down the street, it– it’s rolling out of town! Look how far your tongue stretches!
You have not done well, young child. But you’ve certainly done something. You certainly have.
And somewhere, the tip of your tongue is still rolling on, tasting a world that neither it nor you can see.
Say, are you related to uh…huh…never mind. That doesn’t matter.
Oh, god! Oh god, that…that tongue! That hideous infinite tongue!
This has been the Children’s…Fun Fact…Science…Corner.
There are many reports coming in about the missing antiques. People have seen antique tracks, have heard creatures rooting around in their garbage, grazing on their lawns, loping through their back yards. It has been difficult to tell which direction the antiques are moving, because many of these reports contradict each other and most are likely people mixing up the antiques with other similar-looking animals, like owls, or hyenas, or bacteria.
Intern Maureen, who has, all told, been intern longer than anyone I can remember – well done, Maureen! – anyway, Maureen is back at school right now, so her friend Hector is taking over for a bit. Hi, Hector! Great to have you on.
Intern Hector is waving, he’s saying hello, he doesn’t have a mic, so his “hello” doesn’t exist for you. Nothing exists for you outside of my voice saying it does.
Anyway, Hector, can you do me a favor and go check out what’s going on with the escaped antiques? Reports are muddled, and we need someone on the ground, so to speak. In the ground, as they say. Buried deep in the earth, as the saying goes, to understand what’s really going on here.
Hector is nodding – now that nod exists for you.
Goodbye, Hector. Until we see you again, very soon and very well, I’m sure.
Now, this.
Imagine a man.
This is a simple command, leading to millions of conceivable scenarios. Imagine this man. Every possible physical form, location, and condition that a man can be in. Perhaps this man has been dead so long he is dust. Perhaps you are imagining dust, and perhaps you are not wrong.
Imagine a man.
Imagine him. There is a buzzing light bulb above him. He is standing on what could loosely be called the porch of what could loosely be called a tin shack. The light bulb buzzes and buzzes. He looks up in irritation. You were wrong to imagine him as dust. Do you have him now? Do you know what he looks like?
Imagine a man.
No. No, I’m sorry, no. You were incorrect. [Heavy sigh] And so the weekly “Find the Man I’m Thinking Of” contest will roll over to the next week. This is the three hundredth consecutive week without a winner, and the prize for next week will be the three hundred and one custom made pencils that say “I won a thing.”
Ugh. I hope someone wins soon. The giant box of pencils here? Starting to get in the way of things.
Ohhh! Guess who’s in the studio with me! Well, not actually with me, but projecting himself into our physical plane. That’s right, my favorite scientist and yours, but mostly mine, Carlos!
Carlos: Hi, Cecil!
Cecil: Carlos, I know we just talked last night, but for the listeners, why don’t you tell us what’s new out in the desert otherworld you’re trap– oop! Uh, the desert otherworld you’re spending some time in.
Carlos: Well, I– I’ve been doing so much interesting research! I’ve learned the composition of the rocks (which are not of our world), and the composition of the components of the rocks, which are of our world, strangely, and I’m trying to figure out how many stars there are. I mean, they’re always changing size and position, but…I do think there are a lot of stars.
Cecil: That sounds very scientific.
Carlos: Oh, it is so scientific. The most scientific. I don’t think I’ve ever been more scientific, and you know how much I love science.
Cecil: Oh-ho-ho, yes. I am also very into science. But I miss, you know, touching! I miss this! Listeners, you can’t see, but I’m trying to hold his hand, and my hand is just going through him because he’s not actually here.
Carlos: I– I know. That’s why I’m working on a way for you to visit. I think you’d like it here! It’s super interesting, and there is so much science. Plus, the people are way friendlier here. People in Night Vale can be a little…
Cecil: No, I– I know. I suppose it couldn’t hurt to take a little visit. But I need to be back in my radio desk soon. It can be difficult to ask station management for time off of work.
Carlos: Great! So, I’ll let you know when I figure out exactly how to get you here. Ugh, I cannot wait to see you in person again.
Cecil: Me neither!
Carlos: Cannot wait. Cannot.
Cecil: Oh, ok! Me neither!
Carlos: It’s gonna be good.
Cecil: Uhhhh….ahem. Well. Thank you so much for this highly relevant report that had important information for everyone in town. Thanks, Carlos.
Carlos: Bye, Cecil.
Cecil: Bad news, listeners. It seems that the antiques have gathered around City Hall and are behaving in threatening ways toward anyone trying to leave or enter. We are getting reports that while City Council has already safely evacuated (using a rocket sled that they keep for this very purpose), mayor Dana Cardinal is still trapped inside.
The Sheriff’s Secret Police are responding quickly by issuing press releases to explain why it’s definitely not their job to deal with this situation because, frankly, it seems pretty dangerous and scary. They said that they have activated all available officers to work hard on deflecting responsibility away from them.
As the Sheriff’s Secret Police slogan goes, “Not our job, not our problem.”
Oh, no! Oh no! Um, I’m being told that the antiques have found a way into City Hall. The pack is entering the building. City Hall has been infiltrated by hungry antiques with no one left to protect our mayor!
Who will protect Dana? Someone! Someone must! Will no one step forward? Will no one? Is anyone even listening to this? What– what kind of town are we? What kind of town are we?
Also, here’s the weather.
[“State of Mine” by Stöj Snak]
Well, listeners. Well, well, listeners. It seems…it seems that all is well!
We don’t know how, but our beloved mayor is safe once again. A person of unknown identity appeared on the scene, running into the City Hall and single-handedly defending the mayor’s office against the pack of antiques.
This was…foolish of that person. That person could have been killed, or gravely wounded! Maybe they were! We don’t know who the person is, or where they went, and so their fate is as nonexistent as anything else I do not or cannot voice.
Mayor Cardinal gave a message of thanks, saying “Whoever you are, thank you. I do not speak for the town or for the city government. I speak for myself, as a person, as a human full of blood and worry. Thank you for keeping me safe,” she said.
Pamela Winchell, Director of Emergency Press Conferences, held an emergency press conference in which she added to the mayor’s statement by saying, “Clouds are the belt of the sky. Cinch them tighter! Make the clouds go tighter! Make the sky come closer!” before hurling herself into the sky, until she was just a dot in the upward distance.
So, that seems to be another crisis averted, albeit in a sudden and – if I may be frank, as a journalist – narratively unsatisfactory way. Perhaps we will never know who that unknown savior is, or who the unknown liberator of the antiques was. Perhaps we will never know anything. We have certainly never known anything yet.
Oh, but wait! Oh, intern Hector is returning. Um, hey, Hector? Did you see who the unknown benefactor was? Uh, do you have any information?
Oh, no! Hector is…Hector! He is holding up his arm. There is a tear in the skin, a deep and jagged oval. He has been bitten. Oh, Hector! It was you, wasn’t it? I sent you to report and instead you involved yourself, and…and I thank you for doing so. Ordinarily that would be a violation of journalistic standards, which clearly say we should never help when we could merely watch, but…Dana! Dana is a friend of mine, and so I thank you for ignoring our sacred rules just this once.
I’ll be honest, I– I– I wouldn’t have thought Hector was the type to do something like that, or even physically strong enough to fight off an entire pack of antiques, but…people can surprise you. That is one of the things that people can do.
But…Hector! That bite! You know what happens to someone who is bit by an antique.
Hector is unable to speak. Has been unable to speak since he arrived.
Listeners, of course, anyone bitten by an antique becomes an antique themselves.
Oh, intern Hector, if only there was something I could do for you!
Oh! Oh! He– he is transforming, and his body is elongating, and lowering. His shoulders turn to haunches, his arms to wings. Ugh. His feet to bladed molty legs. He is becoming an antique before my eyes, and I can do nothing for him! For this brave young person who saved my dear friend Dana!
Hector!
He is out of sight now. I can hear only a click, and a shuddering movement. Must’ve fully transformed into an antique.
Hector? Hector! Is there any trace of your old self left? Or are you already hunting me?
Ugh. How good are the bolts on the studio door? He– he– he– he– he can’t come in here, can he?
[Gasp]
I hear a rattling in the ceiling, and there is a clear viscous substance dripping onto my desk. I dare not look for its source.
[Heavy breathing]
Um, ahem. Coming up next, [heavy breathing] hopefully, the sound of my successful escape from this room! Ah! What just touched me?
Hector? Hector!
Well, uh, this is it. Uh, one way or another, uh, here I go, listeners. And here you go, ha-ha, off into radio silence, into places and times where my voice can no longer guide you.
Goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight!
[Sound of Cecil making for the studio door, along with another unidentified sound; following dialogue comes from a distance away from the microphone]
I made it! I totally made it! I’m fine! I’m fine!
Uh, to the family and friends of intern Hec–
Today’s proverb: If you want a picture of the future, imagine a person writing headlines about millennials forever.
Episode 60 - Water Failure
See some evil, hear some evil, speak some evil.
Welcome to Night Vale.
Sorry to start the show off with such a minor issues, but the water here at the station is not working. I was trying to make coffee – I got out the filters, grabbed some whole beans from the larder, finely ground them using a hammer and hateful thoughts, and placed them, one ground at a time, into the coffee machine – but when I went to fill the carafe, there was no water. I turned the faucet handle and just heard a faint hiss.
[Sigh]
45 minutes worth of coffee preparation for nothing!
This also means the toilets aren’t working. Fortunately, there’s a huge ravine right next door to the station, so…that’s that taken care of.
Honestly, I – I probably shouldn’t lead off my show with a personal complaint about how there’s no water, instead of an important news story like how there are suddenly two suns instead of one, but I can’t help it! I just get all worked up about a lack of coffee!
It’s fine. I’ll be fine.
But…yeah, there are definitely two suns now, and people are screaming in the streets. It’s pretty apocalyptic out there, with buildings being burned down and cars wrecking into fire hydrants and people running in all directions, mouths agape, clutching their heads. So stay inside, and avoid thinking too hard about the capriciousness of our only home: the indifferent universe.
Let’s have a look now at sports.
Former Night Vale High School quarterback Michael Sandero had a fantastic freshman season at the University of Michigan. He won the Heisman trophy, and his team made it to the national championship game. Unfortunately, they lost in overtime to…Michigan. It was the first time in college football history that a team had to play against itself in the title game. Down by three points in overtime, Sandero threw a late interception, thus sealing his team’s loss.
Sitting dejected on the bench, their heads hung low, and shoulders sagging under the weight of regret, Sandero and his teammates could only watch as the other Sandero and his teammates celebrated their victory over themselves.
The winning Michigan team celebrated on the field until late into the night – everyone else having long since gone home, and the lights turned out – until a flock of starlings covered their cheering, dancing bodies, and carried them all into the sky.
Speaking through a Russian translator, the losing Sandero said, “I do not know where I am. Where is Michigan? I am so confused right now! Who are you? Who are you?!?” He was staring suspiciously at his own hands and crying.
Better luck next year, Michael! You can do it!
Many listeners have been wondering if I’ll be taking time off work to go visit Carlos in his desert otherworld. Well, the answer is…maybe? I certainly would like to. I miss him so much, but…first, Carlos has to find the doorway between our worlds. Also, even trickier, I have to get vacation days approved by our Station Management – which is not easy.
I filled out the special form to request days off, which includes writing a 2,500-word description of what I will be doing with my time away from work. It had to be exactly two thousand five hundred words. And I’m not sure if hyphenated words count as one or two.
Anyway, I submitted my form last Wednesday by going to Station Management’s office door, genuflecting, and reciting the Pledge of Employee Fealty, which is several minutes long. I was actually blocking the only path to the kitchen, so by the time I finished there was a long line of coworkers waiting on me. All of them, at some point, have gone through this same emotionally devastating process, when they wanted to visit a new nephew or go on a honeymoon or something. So, they were understanding.
But…I chose to do this around noon, so they were also mostly hungry and frustrated.
Once I finished the Pledge, I dropped the form into the drop box, which then glowed red and puffed out dark smoke. When I got back to my desk area, all of my belongings were gone, and there was just an open pit, a hole that seemed to go on into eternity. And knowing Management, it likely does.
So the request was definitely received, and we’ll see what they come back with.
[Growling sound]
Oh! Oh, dear! Station Management sounds upset!
[Growling repeats]
I– I– I– I d– I don’t know if– if it’s because I’m talking about them on the air, or if they’re just now finding out that the toilets aren’t working! Um, either way, uh…let's– let’s move on!
Uh, speaking of the water, [clears throat] all of the taps in our building are blowing a cool, dry air that smells of…toasted walnuts, maybe. Or, no! Nooo! Like French toast! Either way, it’s pleasant. We’ve tried to turn off the faucets, but the handles just spin loosely and have seemingly no effect on the smell. We tried calling the plumber but they just screamed something about there being four suns.
“Four suns!” they howled into the phone, before muttering for a while about nothing being as it seems, we’ve been duped by God, all is lost, blah-blah, something-something living nightmares. So, I guess we’re going to have to contact the Water Department directly about this issue.
Oh! Also, I should have mentioned earlier, the two suns have now doubled to four suns. There are now four suns in the sky. So that’s awful. But listen! Better than no sun, right? Man, days with no sun are just the worst!
You know what’s not the worst? The sponsor of today’s show.
Our program is brought to you today by Chevrolet, and their new line of all-electric vehicles. These vehicles are made entirely of electricity. You already own one. There’s a Chevrolet inside your home’s wiring this very moment! Your microwave, your television…you will have to harness that power and learn to turn pure electricity into matter, and then that matter into an operational vehicle, and then figure out how to operate that vehicle.
But it’s all there! Right now! In your home!
In fact, since you already have the car, don’t you think you should have paid for it? Don’t you think you owe Chevrolet for the car you have? That’s how the world works! There are no free cars, pal! Nope! Please send $45,000 to Chevrolet right now.
Or, return the vehicle. You either pay the money, or return the car. One or the other. That’s only fair, right?
Chevrolet. We’re trying to be reasonable here!
Local television station Channel 6 has come under fire recently for their decision to start broadcasting into viewers’ homes, whether viewers want to watch Channel 6 or not. Many residents have written to their government representatives, saying it must violate some law for a television news station to broadcast straight into people’s homes without the residents even turning on their televisions.
“It must be a violation of privacy laws, right?” these letters often read. “Surely the government must step in to stop this,” the letters usually conclude.
“We hear your concerns, but the government cannot stop this,” the reply always says. “The local television news station is controlled, and managed, by the government, and it is wonderful to be able to reach everyone in town at every point of the day with important news,” the letter always continues. “Like, let’s say there’s a tornado. A rare event here in the desert to be sure, but let’s just say,” the letter always supposes. “How would you know how to protect yourself from such a danger if there were no government-controlled television station that could turn on in your home and shout terse, esoteric orders in a foreign language, let’s say Russian (it doesn’t have to be Russian) as slow-motion footage of salamanders running out of a rotting log plays. How would you know?” the letter challenges. “You wouldn’t,” the letter declares.
“Maybe it’s not an emergency,” the letter concedes. “Maybe we just have something really exciting to tell you! Maybe we got a new stand mixer and we want you to see it. Or, maybe we’re feeling sad and we just want to read you some poems we wrote. So, as you can see, the trustworthy local television news station must retain its powers,” the letter always concludes. “These powers help us care for you, citizen.”
The letter is always signed, “Night Vale City Council.” Those words are written in script dozens of times on top of itself, as if every member of the City Council signed it in a single moment, in a single space, without regard for physics or linear time.
Listeners, the unrelenting smell coming from the faucets is…too much! Everyone in the office is salivating because of the delicious stench of French toast. It’s impossible to work in this environment, and…oh, also because of the whole ravine thing. I’m calling the water department right now. This is ridiculous.
Plus, we’re all getting woozy and starting to lose our senses of sight, touch, and longing.
[Dialing sounds, phone rings on other end]
Automated female voice: Hello, and welcome to the City of…
Automated male voice: Night Vale.
Automated female voice: …Department of…
Automated male voice: Water.
Automated female voice: …customer service line. Para continuar en Español, oprima el uno.
[Voice echos] Para continuar en Español doble, oprima el uno dos veces.
[Echo ends] To give praise to the Mighty Glow Cloud, …
Cecil: All hail!
Automated female voice: …press 3. To continue in English, press 4.
Cecil: There we go.
Automated female voice: If you are illuminati, pr –
[Cecil presses 4]
Automated female voice: Thank you.
Do you have questions about, or want to pay your bill? Press 1. Are you changing address? Press 2. Do you no longer believe in the existence in water?
Cecil: I do have my doubts…
Automated female voice: Press 3. Are you confused as to the difference between water and sugary sodas? Press 4. Do you like cabbage? Press 5. Would you like to report a problem with your service? Press 6.
[Cecil presses 6]
Automated female voice: If you are experiencing an emergency, please hang up and scream “Help! Police!” into any one of the many hidden monitoring devices in your home. If you’re not sure where the hidden devices in your home are, try calling for help into a doorknob, any large vases, a ceiling fan, any random microphone sticking out of your wall that you don’t recognize, or an elderly pet.
If you undervalue your own life, and the lives of others, so much that you feel that this could not possibly be an emergency, press the Not an Emergency button.
[Buzzing sound of Cecil pressing the Not an Emergency button]
Automated female voice: I’m sorry to hear you are having a problem with your service. If you have low or no water pressure, press 1.
Cecil: Hmmmmm…
Automated female voice: If you have a leak…
Cecil: Nooo…
Automated female voice: …press 2. If you tried calling once before for emergency help, only to find yourself serving a prison sentence for misuse of emergency services and now you are calling to argue semantics with a representative about our lack of definition of what constitutes an emergency, press 3. If your water has a strange color or odor, press 4.
Cecil: That could be…
Automated female voice: If something that is clearly not water and smells like a tasty breakfast food is hissing out of your faucets and causing you to stand on your chair like there’s a mouse in the room even though there’s really no escape from what very well may be a poisonous gas of some sort, and honestly you can’t fathom why you jumped onto this chair at all but it somehow makes you feel better, press 5.
Cecil: That’s it!
Automated female voice: If you are afraid of knives, –
[Cecil presses 5]
Automated female voice: Please wait while we transfer you to a customer service representative.
Cecil: Oh. Oh, dear. Oh, I can't– I can’t wait much longer. I’m feeling…lightheaded. Please, hurry! Please? Pleeeease hurr–
[Sound, likely of Cecil’s head dropping to the desk]
Automated female voice: We are experiencing a heavier-than-usual call volume. Current wait time to speak to a service representative is…
Automated male voice: Four minutes.
Automated female voice: Sadly, a lot can go wrong in…
Automated male voice: Four minutes.
Automated female voice: …but that’s just how it is. Thank you for your…
Automated male voice: Patience.
Automated female voice: You know there are…
Automated male voice: Supervolcanoes.
Automated female voice: …set to explode any day now, right? Existence is so incomprehensibly…
Automated male voice: Fragile.
Automated female voice: …and…
Automated male voice: Cruel.
Automated female voice: Please continue to hold.
[“Just Like My Heart” by Fault Lines]
Lacy: Hello! This is Lacy with the Department of Water. Are you still on the line?
Cecil [Groggy]: Hello?
Lacy: Thank you for contacting the Department of Water. I’m sorry about the interruption of your service.
Cecil: What is…what is happening?
Lacy: An intense period of multiple suns this afternoon affected our communication system. In he aftermath, it looks like our computers shut off your water and started releasing carbon monoxide into your pipes. That should only happen to customers who are more than 60 days behind on payments, and your account appears to be fully paid, so…we apologize for the error! Your water has been turned back on. Please open all windows to allow the punitive gases to dissipate.
Cecil: Why does it smell like French toast?
Lacy: I bet you’re wondering why our carbon monoxide smells like French toast.
Cecil: Yeah!
Lacy: It’s because French toast is pleasant, and carbon monoxide is not. We, here at the Department of Water, think, “Why not make unenjoyable things just a bit more enjoyable!”
Cecil: Well, that’s very thoughtful!
Lacy: It is very thoughtful! I’m very thoughtful! Is there anything else I can help you with today?
Cecil: Mmm…no.
Lacy: Okay. Thank you. Then goodbye, Mr. Palmer.
Cecil: Oh, thank you!
Lacy: Actually, I’m sorry, but I just have to say something. It’s kind of unprofessional, I know, but I just wanted to say that I know who you are, and thank you.
Cecil: Aww, well, thank you! I love hearing from fans, and I’m glad you like the radio show. Keep listening!
Lacy: What?!? No! Not because you’re on the radio! You’re not the only one who cares about her, you know.
Cecil: I'm– I’m sorry, her? I– I don’t know who you’re talking about.
Lacy: Fine, don’t take a compliment! Not everyone’s as thoughtful as me. Bye!
Cecil: OK, uh, goodbye.
Listeners, I have brought you a sub-par show today. I failed to report on the multiple suns that cluttered our sky, and sent waves of destructive panic throughout our community because I was too consumed with my own personal issues. I apologize for this.
And, for what it’s worth, some vigilantes with hunting rifles shot the extra suns down so we’re back to having just one sun! Although, the one remaining sun is currently setting in the north. So…we’ll see how that goes.
Our town is no longer consumed by weak and terrified humans rioting in the streets. Our town has returned to its normal state of weak and terrified humans huddling quietly at home.
I’ve been so preoccupied – with not just the water outage, but also getting vacation time so I can see Carlos again – that I haven’t been 100% focused on my duties as your community radio host. For this, I am sorry. I will try harder, I will report better! I will be the radio host you have counted on for…um, well, for however long it’s been. Oh…how long has it been?
Lacy: Time, right?
Cecil: Oh, you’re still on the line!
Lacy: Yup! Thanks again.
Cecil: Thanks for what?!?
Lacy: Ugh! Never mind, jerk!
Cecil: Stay tuned next for time moving faster, faster than it seems, faster and faster, until it disintegrates into stardust.
Lacy: Oh! That actually sounds fun!
Cecil: Goodnight, Lacy.
And goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight.
Lacy: Goodnight!
Today’s proverb: The reason we say “bless you” after someone sneezes is because we know they will die someday.