6.5 – The Drawbridge

More on the drawbridge debacle. It was turmoil in city headquarters this morning. Following this latest in a long line of municipal failures, the City Council has come under fire from concerned citizens for wasting taxpayer money on inefficient services that go over budget and over schedule. One critic, who wished to remain anonymous, said, “We don’t even have a river or bay in Night Vale. There would never be a boat to necessitate a drawbridge!” He continued to—

You know what? Forget it. I can tell you right now that that was Steve Carlsberg who said that, and he is such a spoilsport, that Steve! Have you ever noticed how he never replaces his hubcaps? It’s laziness, pure and simple— laziness. I just can’t let him ruin our town by denying Night Vale a drawbridge when he can’t even care for a tan Corolla.

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6.12 – The Drawbridge

This just in on DrawbridgeGate. The City Council said that, in response to this week’s collapse, they will increase the project budget by twenty million dollars over the next fourteen years, the new timeline for the bridge. Money for these extra expenses will come from school lunch programs, a 65% hotel tax, and a $276 bridge toll, which will be discounted to $249 with E-Z Pass.

And now for a station editorial.

Large, expensive projects are not uncommon in Night Vale. We are a patient but resilient little city. We have big dreams. Sometimes scary, unforgettable dreams that repeat on the same date every year and are shared by every person in town. But we make those big dreams come true. Remember the clock tower? It took eight years and 23 million dollars to build, and despite its invisibility and constant teleportation, it is a lovely structure that keeps impeccable time. It’s a classy signature for Night Vale’s growing skyline, unlike that hideous sports arena Desert Bluffs built last spring. Desert Bluffs can’t do anything right. That’s where Steve Carlsberg belongs. God, what a jerk.

And now, the weather.

[“Aye” by Dio.]

6.13 – The Drawbridge

Apparently, the Sheriff’s Secret Police agree with me about old Steve Carlsberg, dear listeners. We just received a report from a reliable witness that two days ago, Steve was whisked into the back of a windowless van, only to reappear earlier this morning wearing thick head bandages, and eating styrofoam shaped like an ice cream cone.

I want to take this moment to thank all of you out there for all of the generous donations you may or may not be aware that you just made. During this show, we have raised just a hair over $45,000, which includes a $45,000 donation from a certain anonymous world leader. I can’t tell you who. Let’s just say: muchos gracias, El Presidente! Mano dura, cabeza, y corazón. [This was a campaign slogan used by Otto Pérez Molina, President of Guatemala; it means “Firm hand, head and heart.”]

Thank you again for your involuntary support of community radio. We couldn’t do it without the support of listeners like you, in conjunction with unethical contributions from nefarious organizations. And with that, I leave you alone with your thoughts, folks. Stay tuned next for Zydeco Note By Note, a special two-hour verbal description of what zydeco music sounds like. Buenos noches, Night Vale. Good night.

8.4 – The Lights In Radon Canyon

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.”

14.5 – The Man In The Tan Jacket

Over the weekend, Teddy Williams, owner of the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex, sent us some security camera footage of what he believes to be the first-ever glimpse of citizens of the underground city deep below Lane Five. Early Saturday morning, Fun Complex cameras picked up blurry motion near the soda machine.

The footage is quite fuzzy and difficult to discern. Perhaps it is merely rats or raccoons, digging through an uncovered supply of junk food, but it is, of course, much more likely that a lost nation of people, living in the bowels of a small-town bowling alley, are finally revealing themselves, taking our food supplies, and preparing for war.

Teddy told us that he believes this city to be thousands strong and ready to move into Night Vale, ready to take arms against the ‘upper world’ as they probably call us, ready to conquer this heaven and become the righteous owners of our sun-soaked precious land, we assume. It takes very little extrapolation to believe that they worship a god called Hunto-Karr, who demands sacrifice to keep their underground city thriving in the absence of nourishing sunlight, and a fair assumption is they are ruled by a child-king, recently coronated, who is too weak to rein back the generals intent on marching upon us in war.

Ladies and gentlemen, if you care for your community, your town, your Night Vale like I do, you will arm yourselves. You will rally your neighbors to militia. You will point fingers at those who do not wish to fight and have them rounded up into pens. This is no time for the weak. We are at a presumptive war with a projected enemy whom we cannot see, or even be certain of, but who are probably bloodthirsty giants. If you would like to learn more about starting a militia, simply learn to be a true American. That’s how you’ll know.

And remember, Night Vale is at war. Your careless talk costs lives. They know we are here, and it seems somebody talked. Who was it, Night Vale? Was it Steve Carlsberg? Did Steve Carlsberg talk? Maybe a group of good citizens should go have a chat with Steve and find out what he’s been saying, and to whom. Stay by your radios, listeners. We will report further as events warrant.

19A.9 – The Sandstorm

Listeners, I have some bad news and some, uh, good news. Dana is dead! But the other Dana is alive, and I don’t know which is the original and which is the double. Right now, one of the Danas is standing above her own corpse, panting. I cannot tell if she is grinning or grimacing. When I went in, she had clutched in one hand a broken stapler, and in the other, a printout of this email from… oh, God. This is the bad news I was talking about. An email from Steve Carlsberg. I don’t even want to read an email from that jerk, but if printing it out was one of the Dana’s final actions, I must honor her efforts.

Steve… ugh. Steve writes: ‘The sandstorm is clearly a coverup. I believe this was a government-created project. Our government has long been participating in cloud-seeding experiments, and trying to suppress the people with pharmaceuticals. I believe that this government will stop at nothing in order to…’

Now you listen here, Steve Carlsberg. You’re not saying anything new, Steve. Of course the sandstorm was created by the government. The City Council announced that this morning. The government makes no secret that they can control the weather, and earthquakes, and monitor thoughts and activities. That’s the stuff a big government is supposed to do! Obviously, you have never read the Constitution.

Okay, sure, government can be very inefficient, and sometimes bloated and corrupt, but the answer is not to complain about everything that they do. Without government, we would never have schools or roads or municipal utilities or helpful pandemics or black vans that roam our neighborhoods at night keeping us safe. So please, Steve Carlsberg, I’ve had enough of your government-bashing.

And with that, dear listeners, let’s go to the – oh my. Look at that. Listeners, there is a black, almost indigo, vortex that has formed along my studio wall. Listeners, words fail me. It is so beautiful. I can’t leave you, as our show is not yet over, but there must be something beyond this something, Night Vale. I must see what it is. I must go. I will try not to be long, listeners. I will try not to be long…