2.3 – Glow Cloud

And now, the news.

Have any of our listeners seen the glowing cloud that has been moving in from the west? Well, John Peters, you know, the farmer, he saw it over the western ridge this morning. Said he would have thought it was the setting sun if it wasn’t for the time of day. Apparently, the cloud glows in a variety of colors, perhaps changing from observer to observer, although all report a low whistling when it draws near.

One death has already been attributed to the Glow Cloud. But listen, it’s probably nothing. If we had to shut down the town for every mysterious event that at least one death could be attributed to, we’d never have time to do anything, right?

That’s what the Sheriff’s Secret Police are saying, and I agree. Although I would not go so far as to endorse their suggestion to “Run directly at the cloud, shrieking and waving your arms, just to see what it does.”

3.7 – Station Management

Another warning for Night Vale residents: sources say that the used and discount sporting goods store on Flint Drive is a front for the world government. This is based on extensive study of the location, and also because it has a black helicopter pad on which black helicopters regularly depart and land. Fairly unusual for a used and discount sporting goods store.

We sent our intern Chad to try buying a tennis racket, and have not heard back from him for several weeks. This brings me to a related point: to the parents of Chad the intern, we regret to inform you that your son was lost in the line of community radio duty, and that he will be missed, and never forgotten. May you all feel blessed to have the family that you have. And if you’re looking for sporting goods, check out Play Ball, right by our own local community radio station. Play Ball is only a front for the Sheriff’s Secret Police, and so can be completely trusted.

4.5 – PTA Meeting

This just came across the wire: the Secret Police have issued a new statement shedding more light onto last night’s PTA meeting incident. The noisy portal and subsequent dinosaur attack that brutally interrupted discussion of swingset repairs on the elementary school playground stayed open long after recreation center employees thought they had rounded up all of the ancestral avian beasts, and authorities warn there is still at least one more pteranodon on the loose. Citizens should cover themselves with a low-SPF sunscreen and hide in a tiled bathroom.

Several curious handball players on the courts next to the auditorium actually popped their heads into the portal just to see what was on the other side of the vortex, and came back dramatically changed. The players aged several thousand years in what bystanders experienced as only a few seconds. Those handball players now straddle the unenviable border of millennially wizened and cripplingly insane. Since psychological and emotional damages are no longer considered valid claims by the greater medical insurance community, we are still reporting zero injuries.

We’ll update you as further details surface in our special, ongoing, and very special coverage of Pteranodon Attackgate: Are We Safe From Dinosaurs? No Way.

4.8 – PTA Meeting

More breaking news on the pteranodons. We humbly offer the following retractions from our previous reports:

Secret Police are now reporting that the offending beasts were not pteranodons after all, but pterodactyls. Also, pteranodons aren’t even dinosaurs, as this station previously stated, just winged reptiles that lived about 70 million years after pterodactyls. Finally, earlier we reported a death toll of zero, when in fact, the number is closer to 38. We regret these errors.

4.12 – PTA Meeting

Ladies and gentlemen, we have just received word from Secret Police that the rift in space-time that opened at last night’s PTA meeting has been sealed at last. The final missing pterodactyl has been returned to its own timeline in either prehistoric or alternate universe Night Vale. The creature’s lifeless body was found a dozen yards outside of the dog park entrance, stripped of all flesh and with most of the organs inverted and strung around its exposed skull like an old-fashioned soft meats crown, as worn by the 18th-century religious leaders who settled our fair burg.

The dinosaur’s body was returned to the vortex, the gateway closed, and the PTA meeting rescheduled for next Tuesday at 6 PM. That meeting will continue to address the important issue of backpacks, and whether or not they are causing autism. There will also be a memorial service for the 38 parents and teachers who lost their lives in the attack, followed by a raffle. Remember, winners must be present at the time of the drawing to claim their prizes.

City Council and Secret Police have issued a reminder that Night Vale citizens of all species and all geologic eras are not to enter, look at, or think too long about the dog park. This reminder, they say, is completely unrelated to anything that may or may not have happened today.

Coming up next: stay tuned for our one-hour special, Morse Code For Trumpet Quintets.

And listeners, Night Vale is an ancient place, full of history and secrets, as we were reminded today. But it is also a place of the present moment, full of life, and of us. If you can hear my voice, speaking live, then you know… we are not history yet. We are happening now. How miraculous is that? Good night, listeners. Good night.

5.13 – The Shape In Grove Park

And now, a continuation of our previous investigation into whether I am literally the only person in the world, speaking to myself in a fit of madness caused by my inability to admit the tragedy of my own existence. Leland, our newest intern, recently brought me a cup of coffee. He is no longer in my field of vision, but I do still have the cup of coffee, which is well-made, and is giving me the needed pick-me-up to continue considering this terrifying possibility.

Is it possible that I only imagined Leland, and forgot making myself this cup of coffee? But then, who would have grown this coffee? Where was this cup procured from?

Oh. Leland’s back in the room. He’s waving at me. Hello, Leland. And he’s saying— wait, what was that, Leland? I see.

He’s saying that the Shape has turned a molten red and is causing small whirlwinds in front of our radio station doors. There is apparently a sound of a great many voices chanting, as though it were an army giving out a battle cry before raining down destruction on our arid little hamlet.

Oh? He has stopped shouting, and is now writing furiously on a piece of paper. I have to say, Leland’s existence, as well as his finally speaking about the Shape that no one else would speak about, has reassured me greatly about my lonely and solipsistic vigil here at this microphone. He is handing me the note, thank you, Leland… let me see, here…

Ah. It says that the City Council believes the reason for the violent reaction of the Shape Formerly In Grove Park that no one acknowledges or speaks about is because I have been acknowledging and speaking about it, which has made it angry. They urge me to stop speaking of it and never do it again, and in exchange, they’ll move it somewhere else so we can get our front loading zone back.

After brief consideration, I have decided to accept the Council’s offer, because they are trustworthy leaders looking out for our better future, and also because Leland just got vaporized by a strange red light emanating from the station entrance.

To the family of Leland, we thank you for his service to the cause of community radio, and join you in mourning his loss. And, without further ado— nor ever again mentioning anything we shouldn’t— let’s go to the weather.

[“Jerusalem” by Dan Bern.]

5.14 – The Shape In Grove Park

Hello, listeners. In breaking news: the sky. The earth. Life. Existence as an unchanging plane with horizons of birth and death in the faint distance. We have nothing to speak about. There never was. Words are an unnecessary trouble. Expression is time, wasting away. Any communication is just a yelp in the darkness. Ladies, gentlemen, listeners, you… I am speaking now, but I am saying nothing. I am just making noises and as it happens, they are organized in words, and you should not draw meaning from this.

The service for Leland will be lovely. We will throw flowers and weep. He will be buried in the break room, as is the custom. His family will come and moon about the coffee as though we have answers. We do not have answers. I am not certain that we even have questions. I have chosen to not be certain of anything at all.

This is Cecil, generally, speaking to you, metaphorically, for Night Vale Community Radio. And I would like to say, in the most nebulous terms possible, and with no real world implications or insinuations of objective meaning… good night, listeners. Good night.

6.7 – The Drawbridge

This Friday, at Night Vale High’s Memorial Stadium, it’s the annual softball showdown between the Night Vale Fire Department and the Sheriff’s Secret Police. Proceeds from the game will go to support development of nuclear weaponry for a strongly religious Indonesian militia that is looking to overthrow their heretical government, as well as to the Make-A-Wish Foundation. So even if you don’t like softball, come on out and support a couple of great causes.

Last year’s game ended in a rout, as the Secret Police hit three home runs in the eighth and ninth innings. The firefighters claimed that there was some foul play involved— pun intended, dear listeners— as their entire bullpen was assassinated in the middle innings with blow darts. Those murders remain unsolved and completely uninvestigated. Our hearts go out to the families of the deceased relief pitchers. Rest in peace.

It should be a fun one! Expect a real revenge-minded fire department to take the field on Friday. Tickets are only $10, or $5 if you bring enriched yellowcake uranium. Black helicopters will be mind-scanning the town on game day, hunting down those who do not attend. The first 500 fans receive surgically applied working gills.

12.2 – The Candidate

First, the news. Old Town Night Vale residents are complaining about extremely noisy sunsets. Several agitated citizens are pushing for the City Council to do something about the solar shrieking every evening for the past few weeks. One homeowner described the sound as ‘the parched cries of sad buzzards or perhaps even the unholy voice of Old Scratch himself’.

The City Council, speaking in unison at a televised press conference, said that the noise is just the windmill farms that litter the unfortunate wastelands of Desert Bluffs, and that the noises do not fall under Night Vale jurisdiction. Walton Kincaid, president of the community group Soundproof Old Town, said that the windmills can’t possibly be the source of the noise, as they are non-existent and also don’t work, because of Desert Bluffs’ staggering incompetence. The City Council called a second press conference, wherein they all wordlessly stared down Kincaid for fourteen uninterrupted minutes. Their dark eyes tore holes straight through the community spokesman, metaphorically speaking, until his soul was compacted into what looked like a partially chewed black-eyed pea. Literally.

To date, only Old Town residents have reported hearing these inconceivable noises every evening as the sun crosses the indifferent horizon. And the noises seem to be taking their toll. There have been two heart attacks, twelve cases of significant muscular atrophy, and at least two dozen claims of folks growing third eyes, including Kincaid himself, who had an arachnid-like eight eyes when he spoke before City Council yesterday morning. No other neighborhood can hear the sounds.

I spoke to Simone Rigadeau in the Earth Sciences building at Night Vale Community College about the scientifically fascinating story, and she called it a simple case of celestial ‘just desserts’. Full disclosure, listeners: Rigadeau does not work in Earth Sciences. She is a transient living in the recycling closet of the Earth Sciences building, and she collects cans as pets. There is another hearing scheduled at 4 a.m. tomorrow, on the highest ledge overlooking Skeleton Gorge, which can only be accessed by government helicopters. All previous endeavors to scale the cliffside by rock-climbing enthusiasts have failed in extravagantly gory fashion. The Council issued a statement wishing Kincaid luck in attending this mandatory meeting.

17.2 – Valentine

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.