Saturday, the Public Library will be unknowable. Citizens will forget the existence of the library from 6 AM Saturday morning until 11 PM that night. The library will be under a sort of renovation. It is not important what kind of renovation.
Sunday is Dot Day! Remember: red dots on what you love, blue dots on what you don’t. Mixing those up can cause permanent consequences.
Monday, Louie Blasko is offering bluegrass lessons in the back of Louie’s Music Shop. Of course, the shop burned down years ago, and Louie skipped town immediately after with his insurance money, but he sent word that you should bring your instrument to the crumbled, ashy shell of where his shop once was, and pretend that he is there in the darkness teaching you. The price is $50 per lesson, payable in advance.
Tuesday afternoon, join the Night Vale PTA for a bake sale to support Citizens For A Blood Space War. Proceeds will go to support neutron bomb development and deployment to our outer solar system allies.
Wednesday has been cancelled due to a scheduling error. And on Thursday is a free concert… and that’s all it says here.
Our top story: last night’s Night Vale PTA meeting ended in bloodshed as a rift in space-time split open in the Main Street Recreation Center auditorium, setting loose several confused and physically aggressive pteranodons. The glowing portal remained open and shrieked incessantly, an unholy sound that witnesses say resembled noisy urchin children caught in a combine harvester, and then slowed down and amped up through some kind of open-source, easy-to-use audio editing software.
The pteranodons mostly attacked women with glasses. Night Vale authorities are still unsure why, as Night Vale’s only flying dinosaur expert, Joel Eisenberg, still has not recovered from last year’s bout with throat spiders. It took most of an hour to corral the panicked beasts back into the vortex and resume the meeting, which had mostly been about recent lunchroom price hikes, and had devolved into name-calling because Susan Willman called Diane Creighton’s son, Josh, “a bit tubby,” and that maybe he needs a financial incentive to eat a bit less. In this reporter’s opinion, Susan Willman is dangerously obsessed with the New York Times bestselling Freakonomics books. Dangerously so.
Fortunately, no one was injured or killed in the incident, although experts from Timothy’s Auditorium Repair Contractors Inc. estimate close to $750,000 in damage has been done to the rec center auditorium. That cost includes free storm windows and a complimentary seasonal insulation consultation.
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.
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.
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.
Night Vale school superintendent, Nick Ford, announced today that the Glow Cloud has joined the school board. The Glow Cloud passed over the entirety of Night Vale several weeks ago, dropping small and large animal carcasses, controlling our thoughts and tertiary muscle groups, and erasing every last recording device. We’re still unsure the Glow Cloud even existed, as no one remembers it, nor has any digital record of it. If not for a few intrepid citizens who used old-fashioned pens and pencils to record the event in their diaries, we would have no remaining knowledge of that day. I, of course, can only thank those journal writers anonymously here on the air, as the Night Vale City Council long ago banned writing utensils, along with margarita glasses and barcode scanners— and I don’t want to get my fellow reporters in any trouble with the Sheriff’s Secret Police.
According to Superintendent Ford, the Glow Cloud’s visit on that nearly forgotten day was simply an effort to find a nice neighborhood with good schools to raise a child. Now what kind of progeny a powerful, formless cloud of noxious nightmares and spiritual destruction might produce, I dare not even speculate. But I do know one thing— that little cloud is going to get one heck of an education in the Night Vale school district. And isn’t it heartening to hear that that little puff of despair’s father, or mother, will serve on the school board? I mean, no matter how good the school, a student can only get out as much as the parents put in. We should all take such an impactful role in our children’s scholastic lives. Especially you, Steve Carlsberg. You don’t do anything except bring unacceptably dry scones to PTA meetings and take grammatically disastrous minutes on your shifts as meeting secretary. Get it together, Steve.
Superintendent Ford offered the following statement of support for the newest school board member. “All hail. Kneel for the glow cloud. Sacrifice… pestilence… sores… all hail the glow cloud.”