"And now, for the news. Today, a young man came to town, and bought the old 'Gino's Diner' property, next to the old abandoned science lab. When I went to investigate this newcomer, he invited me in, and introduced himself as "Big Rico."

"I'm a pizza man by trade," he said, shaking my hand firmly. "Saw an ad in my paper that your town here was lookin' for a pizza joint, and I figured I was the right guy for the job." He then sat me down, gave me a menu, and proceeded to whip me up the best slice of pizza I have ever had. Now, this may be because I haven't had pizza since Gino's closed, nearly thirty years ago (and under mysterious circumstances, I might add,) but still. I am happy to give my full Night Vale endorsement to Big Rico's pizza. I've never had a slice of pizza like Big Rico's, and I doubt I ever will.

"In other news...Oh, listeners, we seem to have a visitor. Did you come in for an interview, little man?"

"Uh-huh!"

"Well, why don't you start by introducing yourself, can you say 'hi' to Night Vale and tell our listeners who you are?"

"Hi Night Vale! I'm Cecil, and I'm on the radio!"

"You sure are, buddy. Just like your old man. So Cecil, tell us what brings you to our wondrous radio studio?"

"Well, Mama wanted me to go to bed after dinner, but I wanted to listen to your show and wait til you got home to go to bed, so she said that, if I promised to go to bed right when we got back, she'd bring me down here to say goodnight. She said it was a comp-a comp a com-pro-mice."

"Isn't that sweet listeners? And you all should take note: compromise isn't illegal yet, and if it's good enough for a five-year-old, it should be good enough for you, too. Especially you, Mr. Carlsberg."

"Yeah!"

"See, he knows what's what."

There was a distant rattling and rustling in the background.

"A-alright, buddy, you better get to bed. Good Night buddy."

"Good night daddy!" His foot steps scampered away, then back to the microphone. "Oh, and good night, Night Vale!"

"That's my boy."

As the door to the booth shut with a click, the rustling stopped.

"...Well, listeners, that's...interesting. Station Management doesn't get upset over just anything...If I may be so bold as to make a prediction, but I think it's possible that this may not be the last time you hear my son on this radio station. But I guess only time will tell..."

..."Well, in the meantime, let us go to the weather."