Find light in the beautiful sea, I choose to be happy. You and I, you and I, we're like diamonds in the sky. You're a shooting star I see, a vision of ecstasy. When you hold me, I'm alive, we're like diamonds in the sky …. Welcome to Nightvale
Good evening, listeners, strange interlopers, listeners.
Three young men, possessing the loping gait of a fresh growth spurt, have been seen at the Ralph's. They purchased a small mountain of food, which they proceeded to eat while wandering around town. My niece Janice saw them, and texted me several emoticon hearts, and a … water splash? I don't really know what that one means. In any case, she assures me that they are beautiful, and promises to send me some pictures when she can get a better angle.
The Apache Tracker - you know, the racist white guy who wears the ridiculous plastic feather-headdress - was seen earlier being accosted by these young men. Passers-by heard them shout such things as, 'let's go, coloniser' and 'you can redface with your own blood'. So ... people left them to it!
I am now getting reports that these same young men were seen 'violently trembling' with 'a haze raising from their skin, like the wobbly mirage you see at the end of your street on a hot day'.
Well, listeners, I don't know about you, but I for one completely understand their heated reaction! I'm sure I'd be shaking with anger myself if my culture were being appropriated! If the Apache Tracker ends up as a bloody pulp on the side-walk, I know I would just give a hop-skip-and-a-jump right on over him, and go on with my day.
Oh! My niece Janice is on the line! Well, listeners, I'll get to that after a word from our new sponsors!
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Well! I don't know about you, listeners, but I think I would brave the city council's American Ninja Warrior course to attain a passport and visit! … There's no corporation name attached to this - Intern Jessica? Hm, she's not around - must be taking a long lunch.
My niece Janice was on the line before, listeners, and she has an update on the gang of youths who so bravely hassled the Apache Tracker! She says their names are Jacob, Quil and Embry, and that they're sixteen, and Embry is the cutest, but Jacob is the most charming - *ahem* Sorry, listeners, Janice is now texting me that I was not supposed to say that last bit out loud. I would like to mention that my niece Janice is single and still looking for a date for Junior Prom, if there are any takers.
Breaking news, there has been a breach of the Dog Park. I repeat: there has been a breach of the Dog Park. I advise all citizens to remain calm, I will be gathering reports for you shortly!
While we figure out what's going on—let's cut to the weather.
Now listeners, I am being told that giant wolves have jumped the electrified fences of the Dog Park! Diane Crayton had been driving past, when she narrowly avoided a full-on collision with a giant forepaw! Now this is why you always leave a gap between you and the car in front of you, Nightvale! Diane's tells me the wolves burst from the alley beside the Ralph's, and are now rampaging in the Dog Park!
She also tells me that she is sad to say she believes they are man-eaters. She said she saw from her car the crumpled clothes of the valiant young men who had rightfully rallied against the Apache Tracker. I believe I speak for us all when I say, listeners, that it should have been the Apache Tracker eaten in their stead. Good-bye, beautiful interlopers, if only you had sacrificed our town shame and escaped.
The Sheriff's secret police are on the scene now. They are unsure of what to do, as they are also not allowed in the Dog Park. Right now, the officers have paired off in tense matches of 'paper-scissors-rock' to determine who might have to brave the Hooded Figures. The wolves, I am being told, are currently howling a terrible, wonderful song, setting off all other beings that howl in Nightvale. This includes Josh Crayton, who had been in the car with his mother in the form of a St. Bernard, as his preferred way of bringing in the grocery shopping is by carrying it in his mouth.
Oh no, Nightvale! Diane tells me Josh has leapt from the car, and is now running towards the Dog Park! I advise all Night vale residents to not do this! Who's a bad boy! Who's a bad, bad, boy! Oh God, Oh no! Josh Crayton had entered the Dog Park!
The Sheriff's Secret Police are now gearing up to … applaud Josh's decisive manoeuvres? Yes, yes, Nightvale, the Sheriff's Secret Police have released a press statement. The statement was written with lipstick borrowed from Diane Crayton, as she had run from her car, pleading with them for help. The statement is written on the back of her grocery receipt.
Statement reads: 'Josh Crouton is a Junior Police Officer, on a top-secret under-cover mission. Which is why no one knew about it, and is definitely a real thing, and not because we are scared of going into the Dog Park. Good job, Josh, for showing true initiative in the face of danger. Glad it wasn't us – phew!'
There you have it, Nightvale! Josh Crayton has been an under-cover spy this entire time! Wow, I would have never guessed! Diane Crayton is insisting that this isn't true! After all, her boy would tell her if he was an under-cover agent! Wouldn't he? Wouldn't he? Oh god – this is just another barrier between them that makes her miss Troy. Maybe if he had a father figure in his life, he wouldn't have jumped out of the car and into the dog park. Oh god, Cecil, stop quoting me on the radio!
Sorry, Diane.
Now, I know what some of you are thinking, listeners, and it's probably a long shot to nominate your teenager for under-cover work. As it stands, I think this is the rare case of being in the right place, at the right time.
Oh! Nightvale! This just in! Josh Crayton has bolted out of the dog park! He is still a St. Bernard and is running to his mother, her arms outstretched … Annd Josh has raced between her legs and to the alley next to the Ralph's!
He's taken the clothes into his mouth, oh, it's taking awhile – a lot of jorts in one mouthful – and he's racing back to the park! Josh Crayton has re-entered the Dog Park!
The mingled howling of the Hooded Figures and the giant wolves can now be heard. The strange, discordant cacophony rings through our little town, as though heralding the end times.
Oh! Nightvale! The howling stopped! I repeat: the howling stopped! The gates of the Dog Park have opened! It's the three young men! They're walking out of the Dog Park! One could wonder how they managed to do this, as we remember the ordeal my husband Carlos and I went through with the alternative time-zone in the Dog Park. Long-distance relationships can be such a drag, listeners.
The boys explain that they were worried for the safety of our town, as they had been certain the hooded figures were undead Italians. I'm sure I speak for us all when I say that is a completely understandable fear, and I applaud their caution. The boys are now saying their goodbyes to Josh, and his mother, and saying they were planning to "get back home immediately, because it's really weird here, and they're not even really sure how they got here?"
Thanks for your visit, boys! And if you can hear the radio in Diane's car, I'd like to suggest you head on over to the Nightvale Harbor and Waterfront Recreation Area, and pick up some souvenir keyrings. I would also like to let you know that my niece Janice is the leader of the Nightvale Highschool wheelchair basketball team, and led the division in assists only last year.
Nightvale, the Sheriff's secret police have taped yellow caution tape over the gate of the Dog Park. They would like me to remind you all that no-one is ever, never-ever, allowed in the Dog Park. As punishment for his crimes, Josh Crayton has been stripped of his title as a Junior Police Officer. Sorry to hear it, Josh.
I for one think this is a great exercise in 'see something and say nothing.' Good job, Nightvale! We will all sleep soundly in our beds as the government agents assigned to watch over our houses can be assured of our willingness to forget. On a related note, I would like to thank whoever left that note on my welcome mat this morning about looking into sleep apnea! Carlos has been soldiering through the nail-bleeding pain of searching the internet for solutions all day.
Good-bye, boys, we hope you enjoyed your stay.
As we watch a patched-up Rabbit leave a trail of dust towards somewhere someone else calls home, I'm reminded of the Registry of Middle School Crushes. Destroyed by my niece Janice, somewhere in the scrublands. Sometimes, being young feels so frightfully electric, Nightvale, and, sometimes, it feels as awkward and slow as wading through jelly. But no matter what, things that spark passion in us in our youths never really leave us. Only our relationship to them changes, through our hazy recollections, fond memories and harsh truths. But, in some small part of us, they also remain the same.
Stay tuned next for the sound of raindrops on a window, and a tin roof, and a wok, and a plastic lawn chair, and the dirt. Goodnight, Nightvale. Goodnight.
Today's proverb: There is only one thing you can think of when you hear the word 'irrevocably'. Come on, admit it. Yeah.