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.
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.