Old Woman Josie out near the car lot says the angels revealed themselves to her. Said they were ten feet tall, radiant, and one of them was black. Said they helped her with various household chores. One of them changed a light bulb for her, the porch light.
She’s offering to sell the old light bulb, which has been touched by an angel. It was the black angel, if that sweetens the pot for anyone. If you’re interested, contact Old Woman Josie. She’s out near the car lot.
That new scientist– who we now know is named Carlos– called a town meeting. He has a square jaw and teeth like a military cemetary. His hair is perfect, and we all hate and despair and love that perfect hair in equal measure.
Old Woman Josie brought corn muffins, which were decent, but lacked salt. She said the angels had taken her salt for a godly mission, and she hadn’t yet gotten around to buying more.
Carlos told us that we are by far the most scientifically interesting community in the U.S., and he has come to study just what is going on around here. He grinned, and everything about him was perfect, and I fell in love instantly.
Government agents from A Vague Yet Menacing Agency were in the back, watching. I fear for Carlos. I fear for Night Vale. I fear for anyone caught between what they know, and what they don’t yet know that they don’t know.
The City Council would like to remind you about the tiered heavens and the hierarchy of angels.
The reminder is that you should not know anything about this. The structure of heaven and the angelic organizational chart are privileged information, known only to City Council members on a need-to-know basis.
Please, do not speak to or acknowledge any angels that you may come across while shopping at the Ralph’s, or at the Desert Flower Arcade Bowling Alley & Fun Complex.
They only tell lies and do not exist.
Report all angel sightings to the City Council for treatment.
Speaking of the City Council, it voted this week to remove the large, lead-plated door from the northeasternmost crook of Radon Canyon. You know, the area pulsing with green light and sotto voce basso humming. Proponents of the measure called the large, yellow emblem and red lettering that spelled out, “DANGER – PLUTONIUM – DO NOT OPEN DOOR – RISK OF DEATH” were at worst an offensive eyesore and at best a hacky sci-fi cliche.
Many Night Vale citizens attended the meeting, including, it was said, several angels— although no angel is admitted to have been present for the City Council meeting, or any other event ever, for that matter. Old Woman Josie agreed with the measure, adding that lead is a health hazard, and that the old door was nothing but a ticking time-bomb. According to the meeting minutes, Josie said, “That old door… ooh, that door. Someone’s going to get some kind of lead poisoning.”
Carlos— beautiful Carlos, tragically shorn of his locks— reportedly was the only dissenting voice, but it is not clear he actually opposed the measure, as the minutes only report him stating, “There is no time! No more time!” into a black rectangle in his hand, and then running, winded, from the community hall. According to Old Woman Josie, he was still absolutely perfect, and smelled of lavender chewing gum.
Ladies and gentlemen, the rumor mill is abuzz! We’ve had a celebrity sighting in our little burg! Old Woman Josie and one of her angel friends reportedly saw Rita Hayworth getting gas at the Fuel ’N’ Go over by the bowling alley! Rita Hayworth, ladies and gentlemen, right here in Night Vale. Can you believe it?
Old Woman Josie said Rita was looking a bit older, moderately obese, and considerably more Hispanic, but the angel assured her it was indeed Rita. He is an angel, after all. He would know, right? Wow. Rita Hayworth, right here in Night Vale. Just imagine.
Ladies and gentlemen, it’s that time of year again. Time for our annual pledge drive. Sorry to have to do this, but, you know… Night Vale has a lot of community-supported radio, and the thing about community-supported radio– it’s supported by listeners like you. As well as Guatemala and some Teamsters, who are, sometimes, just too generous. Any amount you can give will help us continue our community programming. A dollar or two, or even plasma.
Take WZZZ, our local numbers station, broadcasting from that strange and tall antenna built out back of the abandoned gas station on Oxford Street. Did you know that it broadcasts a monotone female voice reading out seemingly random numbers interspersed with chimes twenty four hours a day, seven days a week? As you can imagine, that kind of work doesn’t bring in a lot of money. Unless it does. To be honest, here at Night Vale Radio, we don’t know exactly what that station is for, or what master it is serving. But I do know that it is a vital part of this community, and we should pitch in to help it. We welcome your support. Give us a call. We don’t have a number. Just whisper “Forsaken Algonquinia” into your phone receiver, and angels, or Facebook, or something, will deliver us an appropriate contribution from your bank account.
Night Vale High won the grudge match against the Desert Bluffs Vultures last night! Two-headed quarterback Michael Sandero credits the win to help from angels. The angels have made an adamant denial of any involvement whatsoever in the game. The school district Ethics Committee has announced that they will look into any possible angelic interference.
A sports scandal has shook our quiet little town. The Night Vale Scorpions have faced multiple allegations of possible game tampering this football season. Representatives for the Desert Bluffs school district, speaking in unpleasant and high-pitched voices indicative of weakness of will and character, complained to the regional football and traffic code authority that Night Vale quarterback Michael Sandero’s recently grown second head counts as a twelfth man on the field, thus invalidating the wins brought on by his also recently acquired superhuman agility and strength. The RFTCA said that they would look into these allegations with the utmost seriousness, along with their concurrent investigation into whether Night Vale’s invisible crosswalk policy is actually a desperate bid to save town funds at the cost of pedestrian lives.
Meanwhile, the school board is due to announce its decision in their ongoing hearings as to whether appealing to angels for a win constitutes illegal game tampering. Several angels agreed to testify at the hearings. However, their testimonials were cut short when it became apparent that the hearings were actually elaborate traps set up by the City Council to finally capture the angels, whom the Council does not recognize as actually existing. Fortunately, the angels easily escaped from their cages in a blaze of heavenly light, presumably returning to Old Woman Josie’s house, out near the car lot, which has become something of an informal shelter for local angels.
When asked about the controversy over his team’s winning record, Coach Nazr al-Mujaheed said, “Our boys are good boys. They’re good boys at football. We win ’em, with the boys! The football.” Then he smiled vacantly, waved at no one, and wandered off in the direction of the woods. More on this story as it develops.
This is a story about you. You live in a trailer out by the car lot, next to Old Woman Josie’s house. Occasionally, she’ll wave at you on her way out to get the mail or more snacks for the angels. Occasionally, you’ll wave back. You’re not a terrible neighbor, as far as it goes.
At night, you can see the red light blinking on and off on top of the radio tower. A tiny flurry of human activity against the impeccable backdrop of stars and void. You’ll sit out on the steps of your trailer, with your back to the brightness of the car lot, watching the radio tower for hours. But only sometimes. Mostly, you do other things. This story is about you.