Episode 66 - worms...
We all lie dreamily upon damp earth, spotting clouds shaped like animals we have yet to invent.
Welcome to Night Vale.
If you woke up today, you’re probably already well aware of the worms. It’s been about 12 years since the last round of worm-based terror in this town, but…they’re back. They’re doing all of the usual worm things: flying around and dropping trees onto cars and houses, spitting venom at people, and eating stray cats and then leaving large mewling pellets all about town.
Thousands of worms have managed to completely envelop the Rec Center Annex, which is where today’s continuing education course, Counter-Terrorism Techniques for Beginners, was taking place. Sadly, despite frequent pleas by many to classify worm attacks as terrorism, worms remain classified as a low-grade infestation – and thus were not covered in today’s continuing education coursework. This means more giant squirming pellets to clean up.
Um, yeah, yeah…worms…worms, worms, worms…great.
Hey. Unrelated to anything, just wondering, but…have you ever asked yourself why the Dog Park is off limits? I mean, I know it’s a municipal park and all, but shouldn’t citizens be able to use it? Seems kind of weird, right? That you can’t just go to the Dog Park and hang out. Maybe even…bring your dog? I don’t know. It’s not like it contains any kind of vast desert otherworld where my boyfriend lives, it’s…I’m sure it’s just a plain old Dog Park and not an alt-dimensional portal!
Maybe our mayor will try to open up the Dog Park for public use. Just…temporarily. Say, for a few minutes. Maybe our mayor can help me out for once. That would certainly be a friendly and mayoral thing to do.
After years of applications for city approval, there is finally an official Night Vale Book Club, listeners! The Book Club, which is run by 14 year-old bibliophile and heroic vigilante Tamika Flynn, will feature weekly discussions of popular and classic fiction, as well as Q&As with book experts about some of literature’s most famous controversies., like last week’s heated argument about whether or not Herman Melville really wrote all of the novels which bear his name, or just Fight Club.
The Book Club meets Tuesdays from 2:00pm to 4:00pm at Patty’s Hardware and Discount Pastries. Members can candidly discuss the books without fear of most government repercussions, while noshing on some delicious wheat- and wheat byproduct-free pastries sold at great discount to you.
Patty’s also specializes in hammers, crowbars, and anything heavy that fits in your hand and can be easily swung.
“Shop at Patty’s. They’ll never suspect a thing!” Patty shouts in the looped recording playing from her perpetually squirming animatronic statue out front of her flagship store.
This week’s book is Helen DeWitt’s The Last Samurai. There is only one heavily-charred edition of this novel left in the world, but Tamika assures us that she managed to…“borrow” a copy from the library’s Forbidden Material Collection. She did finger quotes around the word “borrow,” while also shaking her head no and stomping “I am being totally facetious” in Morse code with her right leg. Then, an owl landed on her shoulder and winked.
Spring League baseball tryouts are next Saturday afternoon at the Haunted Baseball Diamond. Children new to organized baseball will be assigned teams automatically, based entirely on their personal dispositions. That way there’s a whole team of courageous players, a whole team of clever players, one of conniving selfish players, and one that…takes all the rest of the players. Just like the four Major League Baseball teams. Tryouts are from 10:00am to 2:00pm, with volunteer coaches Betty Lucero and Lucia Tereschenko.
The Night Vale Youth Baseball Association is asking parents to bring any extra baseballs to tryouts, as coach Tereschenko died over 150 years ago, and is now a ghost, and so has a hard time picking up ground balls during batting drills.
Um, getting an update on the worms…City Council has now elevated the warning scale from “worms…” (with a lower-case w followed by an ellipses) to “Worms!!” (with a capital W and two exclamation points). It has not yet reached all-caps “WORMS!!!” but, if something is not done, this could become a more destructive “Worms!!” outbreak than the famous
with all caps, one exclamation point, and underlined-twice disaster of 1997.
You know, listeners, if the worms get near the Dog Park, um, perhaps the Hooded Figures who pace about behind the tall black fences would get distracted. And then I could…run in there, and get to the desert otherw– ha…I– I…I could just go check out the dogs! Catching tennis balls, and– and have a nice afternoon in a local park.
Or…actually, no. No. I’d make a break for the desert otherworld inside the Dog Park, and finally go visit Carlos.
Or…you know. Something.
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Craigslist. We sold your stuff while you were gone.
Due to today’s worm attacks, the Sheriff’s Secret Police are putting their search on hold for literal five-headed dragon Hiram McDaniels and the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home. After the attempted coup at City Hall several weeks back, the Secret Police have been aggressively pursuing the two fugitives, who have reportedly conspired many times to overthrow Mayor Dana Cardinal.
Mayor Cardinal has been imperiled several times in the last month, only to be saved by someone controlling Night Vale Community Radio host Cecil Palmer…who is still quite upset about being used against his will.
“If the mayor had just asked for my help, I would have happily come to her aid on my own,” a frustrated Palmer said, just now, into this very microphone.
Palmer alleges that Mayor Cardinal purchased him last year in an auction, and has been using him as her personal protector. The mayor has denied these charges – but, like the Night Vale Constitution says, denying that you are guilty is a major sign of guilt.
The Secret Police had previously wanted against approaching either Hiram or the Faceless Old Woman, as they are both deadly. But, the Secret Police have been so busy dealing with the worms today, that they just can’t deal with everything on their own.
“Maybe you could…help us out a bit, you think?” a Secret Police spokesperson said, as worms gripped his legs tighter. “I– I'm– I’m sure you’ll be fine. If you could find either the 18-foot tall, five-headed dragon, or the omnipresent ethereal woman who you can’t quite ever see, go ahead! Bring them down! Thanks for doing that. Big help. Big help,” the spokesperson said as the worm consumed, with one slimy gulp, the cutlass in his left hand.
The Secret Police added they received a tip from Night Vale human Frank Chen that he saw Hiram McDaniels flying far away, to some other place. And so, Chen said, Hiram is definitely not still in Night Vale.
“Hiram ain’t comin’ ‘round here anymore. I’m sure of it!” Chen’s long Gold Head stated.
“I will burn your frail, useless corpse, human!” Chen’s scaly Green Head added.
“Stop calling people humans! We are human, remember?” Chen’s Blue Head said.
“Uh, I mean, I am human, OK?” Chen’s Gray Head said.
“Knock it off, you guys!” Chen’s Purple Head grumbled, from behind the other heads.
Speaking of the Faceless Old Woman, she knows a lot about this town. I bet I could ask her how to get into the Dog Park, how to get into that desert otherworld. I should ask her, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to find…
Faceless Old Woman: Ask me what?
Cecil: Oh! Hah! Faceless Old Woman, you…you scared me.
Faceless Old Woman: I know. So, you want to go to the desert otherworld and visit your boyfriend?
Cecil: Well, I do…
Faceless Old Woman: You are upset that the mayor has been using you to protect her from those wonderful threats to her life, and you’re frustrated by this town. And you just want some time away to clear your head, and so you don’t have to always be saving the mayor from whatever great forces are trying to remove her from office.
Cecil: Well, that’s…
Faceless Old Woman: And by “great,” I mean “really incredible.” Of course, who even knows who’s been doing all this to the mayor? I mean, I know. I know everything. But…all of these delightful rumors and lies about me and Hiram…I mean, how can people even report such rumors? Well, they’re not totally untrue, I suppose. And how on Earth could I even get…
Cecil: But, Faceless Old Woman, is
Faceless Old Woman: Yes. I’m sorry. I’m a bit distracted.
Cecil: You know how to get into the Dog Park.
Faceless Old Woman: I do. And I want to help you, because…well, I want you to be happy, Cecil. I will tell you how in a dream. You will be in a boat – which will sink, of course – and you will lose all of your teeth. And as you are trying to pick up your teeth, you will find an oil painting of a Victrola. You will then place the needle on the record and eat the entire painting. Your chest will open, and dozens of red birds with gold ribbons in their talons will fly from you, and the ribbons will lift your limp, open body, carrying you through the sea and dropping you onto a frantic eddy of pink fish near a pink reef. You must wake immediately when you see the shadow of a young woman emerging from behind the coral. Do not look long at her.
When you awake, you will hear her whisper.
Cecil: And she will tell me how to get into the Dog Park?
Faceless Old Woman: I don’t know what she will tell you.
Cecil: Well, Faceless Old Woman…
Faceless Old Woman: I have to go. I have to get back to keeping a distant eye on whatever it is that Chad is doing in that cursed home of his.
You’ll be fine. Night Vale will be fine. The mayor will be…
Take a nice, long break, Cecil. You’ve earned it.
Cecil: Faceless Old Woman? Hello?
She’s gone, I think.
[Ominous sound of Station Management in the background, sort of like what I imagine a large dinosaur caught in a bear trap large enough to snare a large dinosaur might sound like]
Listeners? Oh, dear. I have made a bad mistake. I believe I have upset Station Management. I think my openly talking about the Dog Park has proved to be far too political a topic for this station’s old-fashioned values that believe in not questioning local, world, or secret reptilian governments, nor their parks.
I have grown cavalier in my anxiousness to get out of town for a vacation, and this lack of care in my job, perhaps, will lead to my end! I do not like the color glowing around my studio door right now. I do not like the predatorial sniffing around the door’s edge. I do not like that hum, nor the heat of my skin, nor the cold in my heart.
I cannot face them, listeners! I can not! I just want a vacation! I just want to see Carlos, for a week! A day! A…
[Station Management goes suddenly silent]
An envelope!
Oh, no! The noise and the lights are gone! All that is left is a black envelope, upon which is a single silver glyph, lightly afire. I…I do not recognize the language, nor even the alphabet of this burning symbol. But I know, in my mind, exactly what this says. I wish I did not know.
I must have courage. I must open this frightful news. Before I do, let me say I am sorry to Station Management, and to the city of Night Vale. I have…betrayed your trust with my careless speech. If spared, I promise to never speak ill nor question the Dog Park again, but…for now, I will take myself to my punishment.
And I will take you to the weather.
[“Little Black Star” by Hurray for the Riff Raff]
So…guess what? The envelope wasn’t about the Dog Park at all. I fell to my knees, begging Station Management for forgiveness, but they silenced me immediately. They were simply letting me know that my vacation had finally been approved!
I was confused for a moment. I asked about the burning glyph on the outside of the envelope and what I thought it meant – which took some explaining, as I didn’t know how to describe that particular horrifying experience in English. And they laughed, and said, “No, that glyph is just the ancient abbreviation for Human Resources. They’re who approve the vacations around here.”
Then they showed me the actual glyph that meant what I thought the other one meant, and I lost consciousness. I’m not sure for how long.
When I woke, I heard the whispered instructions from the woman in the coral!
And then I heard laughter. Station Management was…laughing! And I laughed, too! And then they stopped laughing, or…growling? Perhaps it was growling they were doing. It’s very difficult to say what that noise is they make.
Oh. Wow. Yeah, I think it was growling.
Aw, now I’m super embarrassed about laughing.
Anyway, the worms. *Ahem* The worms have backed down, thanks to a flamethrower and fierce rhetoric by the City Council, resulting in some sick burns…both metaphorically and literally. The worms have left, sure to return for us again someday as all of nature eventually will.
Friends, listeners, all of Night Vale…I love you. Very much. But I need time away to be with Carlos. Yes.
And, also, some time to myself. To reflect. Also, I got a message from an old…colleague? Acquaintance? Nemesis? who lives there as well.
You know, I don’t want to talk about it just yet.
Night Vale, we’ve had many great years together. And I won’t be gone long, but…I’ve also grown…weary. Weary of some friends who are less than friends. Weary of fights that need not be fought. Weary of not being myself some of the time, which is something I strongly prefer to be all of the time. Weary, sometimes, of Night Vale itself, I think.
I’ll be back. Whenever. Refreshed…you’ll know when! It’ll be when you hear my voice again!
Stay tuned next for…oh, I don’t know! Anyway, time for a vacation!
Goodnight, Night Vale.
[Cecil can be heard taking off his headset]
Goodnight! Whoo-hoo!
[Cecil leaves the studio, and we hear the door close behind him]
Today’s proverb: When you wish upon a star, your dreams come true. But, because of distance, not for millions of years.