Our top story today: a large pyramid has appeared in the center of the Beatrix Lohman Memorial Meditation Zone, destroying over half of the zone’s state-of-the-art meditation equipment and paraphernalia.
Experts have been contacted as to what could cause sudden pyramid existence. However, as it turns out, there are no experts in pyramid materialization. And the town’s other experts offered up merely shrugs, followed by panicked conjectures, and finally screams and moans, all of which fell uselessly upon the City Council’s merciless ears.
The pyramid has been described as a kind of triangle shape, only three-dimensional. It has made no movement, despite repeated taserings by the Sheriff’s Secret Police. Many suspect that this may be a publicity stunt pulled by our own local cereal company, Flaky-Os, who are launching their new line of nighttime-only cereals next month. An angry mob has formed outside the cereal factory, just in case.
An update on the pyramid reported on earlier. Word is in that the pyramid has spoken. It is broadcasting, on low-wave frequencies, a repeated message. The message is the following.
I will place within some of you questions. Within others I will place answers. These questions and these answers will not always align. The questions I provide may have no answers, and the answers I provide may have no questions. I will study the effects of these questions and these answers. Some of you will hurt others, and others will heal. Grow my seeds inside you, and let them flower.
The Flaky-Os marketing department must be complimented for the best use of viral marketing in Night Vale since Stan’s Pawn Shop released a virulent strain of ebola back in ’98. And, as a communicator by trade, I applaud their ingenuity.
The Sheriff’s Secret Police has responded with surface-to-surface missiles, which, they say, will “silence the dark heart of the beast.” So far, they have not so much as created a smudge on the pyramid’s broad, shiny surface.
Update on the pyramid situation. Flaky-Os’ board of directors are vigorously denying— some of them at gunpoint— that they had any part in the pyramid that is stubbornly continuing to exist in our town. They are sneaky ones. I hope the new line of cereal turns out to be worth the hype. Meanwhile, the pyramid itself has altered its broadcast, sending out a second message, which is as follows:
Everything you do matters except your life. Death will be the last action you’ll undertake. I do not live, but I exist. What is my purpose? I will not tell you. One day you will discover your purpose, and then you will tell no one. And then you will die.
Now, I’m not too good at this viral marketing thing, so I can’t see all the codes and hidden web addresses that I’m sure are all through that message. I’ll leave that to all the dedicated amateurs out there in the listening world.
The Sheriff’s Secret Police are now attempting to charge the pyramid with resisting arrest, on the grounds that they couldn’t figure out how to arrest it. More as the story develops.
Well, listeners, it seems the pyramid has disappeared as mysteriously and suddenly as it arrived. Too late, I’m afraid, for the Flaky-Os board of directors, who have all been taken to the abandoned mine shaft outside of town for processing by the City Council.
The Sheriff’s Secret Police are declaring victory in their stand-off against the pyramid because they say it’s about time they won something.
Meanwhile, the pyramid has left behind a much tinier pyramid. A mere souvenir of its looming, inscrutable mass. This tiny pyramid is broadcasting one final message, a farewell from the geometric shape that stole our hearts. So, let us wrap up our show today with its words.
Somewhere there is a map, and on that map is Earth, and attached to Earth is an arrow that says your name and lists your lifespan. Some of you die standing. Others sitting. Many of you die in cars. I can never die. It is difficult for me to understand the concept that I am attempting to convey. I cannot show you this vision, but you may imagine it. Step forward and tell someone of it, please.
You heard it here, folks. Tell people. Tell people about Flaky-Os’ new line of cereals for nighttime only. Do it in memory of its board of directors.
Stay tuned now for an hour of dead air, with the occasional hiss and crackle. Speaking of the nighttime, I truly hope you have a good one, Night Vale. Good night.