When a man wearing 'nothing' but a fancy, black and white suit came to the station.. We were, disgusted. Because, who dares come into the radio station wearing nothing but a fancy (and might I say) well tailored black and white suit, with slimmed, heeled, equally black shoes.
You just don't do that. I mean, have some respect for yourself!
"I've come to discuss releasing the city." He dare says to me with his thick, cockney accent. Who does he think he is? A well dressed man from Britain? Get over youself and put on some clothes!
"So, you're the ominous ooze holding Night Vale together. Like the glue to our town? Is our Ooze Lord finally coming to break us?!" I climax to a yell, standing in my seat yet holding the mic close (Just so you listeners will hear).
"I meant, releasing Night Vale from Area 51. We are doing citizen overviews for whoever thinks they are sane enough to leave. Your city hall told me to get the news out."
I stare at him. In hopes of scaring him away... But I find the awkward silence useful in thinking deeply about this 'Area 51' buisness, and why the man wearing nothing but a nice and sleek suit has a cockney accent. "Area 51? Is that a jurisdiction I didn't know-..." Eh, hm. Sorry listeners, I seem to have dropped my mic. "...-about?" I finish. And the man in nothing but a fancy black and white suit slowly backs to a door, questioning me and asking me why I, "Narrate everything!" I smile at him nonetheless, thinking this obvious buisness man just needs a good smiling at.
"Area 51 is a... Classified... Governmental... Experimentation..." He skips words, hand twisted at a door knob. He's trying to leave.
But it's FOUR O' CLOCK! The unliquidized flame fog is always out at exactly FOUR O' CLOCK. And it is exactly, precisely FOUR O' CLOCK! If he gets to the front door and opens it as a door tends to allow itself to be opened at it's henges, then he will be immediately swallowed by the unliquidezed flame otter hiding in the unliquidized flame fog. The same unliquidized flame otter that has made friends with one of the black angels down town.
But, again, do I really want to save this man wearing nothing but a nice suit's life? Has he done anything more than expose himself unecessarily? ...YES. I DO.
"Oh! That Area 51! We always talk about Area 51 at Jerry's Taco's!" I say with a hitch in my metaphorical step. His hand falls from the knob and he sigh's. Or exhales, nobody will ever really know.
"I will be thrilled if you will let everyone know about the citizen overviews in the library." He says. But what library? Aren't we supposed to remember the dangers of reading books at low low costs at, the LIBRARY? "Sure thing! I'm sure we all will be happy to hear about the Area 51 stuff." I say. And it's four o' one, so there isn't any danger of him being swallowed by the unliquidized flame otter. I'm actually happy he just nods and turns into the streets, the door shutting firmly on it's henges.
-Later With Carlos-
The perfect perfect Carlos has invited me over to his perfect perfect house, to eat some delicious and perfect dewheatized cereal dinner. Isn't he just cool? Though, I will say my jitters were especially jitten tonight.
I made sure all flowers in the bouquet had three, precisely snipped, orange petals. And that each petal had 'City Property' printed neatly on them, for legal purposes. And I knock on the door, to be welcome with a deep and dissolvingly Carlos, "Cecil you made it!"
Which, saying i've 'made it' makes amazing sense considering the new street laws and the whole driving thing. I could have easily been killed. But it didn't matter. Here was Carlos, and his squared jaw, and his uniform teeth. "Wouldn't miss this for the latter day world, my Carlos." We embrace in a hug just intime too, my flowers have finally turned from orange to burnt orange like I had been hoping, just for my Carlos. I tighten my arms around him, sniffing into his sulfur smelling hair before releasing him, smiling around a blush as I hand the bouquet over.
I have a reason for being so nervous though. My jitters are reasonably jitten. It's because of our last date. The one we got to spend alone without a county official handcuffed to us both. We were at my home, and somehow ended up on my bed, and I freaked. More than usual when seeing a bedframe alone. We were going to take that extra step. The one that was placed a long time ago by pioneers in step making.
And, I know he will be nice and beautiful and understanding to me, but it's scary. But it's my wonderful Carlos and I shouldn't feel scared. Throw away scared. THROW IT AWAY.
"I thought this bouquet would make up for last time." I say. Because we didn't do anything last time. All we did was cry, or I did at least. Only to be comforted by Carlos' caring and now somewhat arousing, hands.
Carlos frowns, taking the bouquet, looking at it (possibly judging it), then looks up with a faded smile. "I told you it wasn't a big deal. I could tell we rushed things Cecil." Ah, how he says my name. MY NAME. Out of every name he could call me he chooses mine. Ah, splendid Carlos.
"I love you, Carlos. My Carlos." I say looking down. And I feel his smile return bright, directed at me. "Lets get you inside before the grass sees you." He says, a hand pulling me in.
Author's Amazing Note: I've loved Night Vale for awhile now, but never read or wrote fanfiction until recently. Chapters will be short and sweet. Tell me if this is the direction you'd like for a second and more frisky and Area 51'y chapter! Goodnight readers, goodnight.
