The Great Glowing Coils of the Universe (32 page)

As I was packing up, it hit me just how improbable this whole situation was—of actually making a living being an actor in New York City, of performing in a theater just off Times Square, of making golden-age radio plays “cool” again, of creating a gay character with dignity and joy, of being some kind of cult success in a mainstream-obsessed society, of doing something so simple as telling macabre stories that were a balm to a life which is unpredictable and, ultimately, inescapable. Of being able to say, “I was here. I did this. Maybe when I go, I will be remembered fondly.” All of that seemed so unlikely and so absurd it could hardly be believed . . . and that it had all happened in the span of two years. But there I was, packing up my belongings, a long and rewarding night's work complete.

And then it was out the stage door, out onto the streets of Manhattan, just one more person on the sidewalk going to meet friends and celebrate being together.

—Cecil Baldwin, Voice of Cecil Palmer

Sometimes
Night Vale
comes for you.

You don't believe it? Well, friend, it happened to me. Listen to a story . . .

So there's me, minding my own business one day. I'm a writer. I like podcasts. I've got
Night Vale
coming in my earways through the headphones. I'm into it. Where am I? Oh, that's not important. I move through various locations. I'm not a fixed being.

BUILD THIS PICTURE IN YOUR MIND.

Maybe in some respects it sounds like you. It doesn't have to be all respects. We're more alike than we are different. All of a sudden, Cecil starts talking about this Intern Maureen. MY name is Maureen. This Maureen had a puppy. I have a puppy.

Oh, you think it was a coincidence? That there are many Maureens with many puppies? Think again, chumps! Because I checked it out. I asked around about “Joseph Fink” and “Jeffrey Cranor.” Turns out, they're real. Surprise number one. Surprise number two: They verified that they had inserted me right into Night Vale.

Imagine that happening to you. You're just living your life and then all of a sudden you work for Night Vale Community Radio.

And then, you drink some orange juice and end up in a parallel dimension.

Oh no. No no no no no no. I found those J-fellows and I told them that if I was doing this internship, I WAS GOING TO DO THIS INTERNSHIP. Even if it meant working for Cecil. Don't extract me from my life and then juice me out of town.

You better believe they heard that. Who's back in this episode, the one you're about to read?

(
Points several thumbs at self
)

That's right. Intern Maureen. I even appeared ON STAGE, in an ACTUAL HUMAN THEATER, performing in this episode you're about to read.

Did I spend that night learning that the cast and crew of
Night Vale
are the best people around? Maybe. Did I tear up at the loveliness and dedication of
Night Vale
fans? Some reports say so. Was the microphone too high but I was afraid that if I touched it to adjust it I would knock it over and it would catch on fire and the whole theater would go up in flames and
Night Vale
fans would run screaming and burning into the night? Perhaps. So did someone have to help me adjust it because no one could hear me because I was standing on my toes to try to reach it?

I'm not sure why you're asking all these questions. All I know is that I would do anything for the folks at
Night Vale
. And I'm thrilled to be a part in any way.

Now give me my *&$#%& college credits, Cecil.

—Maureen Johnson, Voice of Intern Maureen

Think back. Look forward. Listen timelessly.

WELCOME TO NIGHT VALE.

Hello listeners. I speak to you now from the one spot of Night Vale that remains truly ours. The studios of the Night Vale Community Radio Station. I have learned well from my misunderstanding about how barricading a door works, and so I have, for two weeks, managed to keep this studio free of Strexcorp influence and employees.

But enough preamble. Now, to the amble. Today is the day. There is only one thing for today, and that is the destruction of the hated Strexcorp, and the freeing of our town Night Vale. We will work no longer. We will worship a smiling god no longer. We have failed before—we have failed so many times at so many tasks—but at this we will not fail.

I hope.

I really really hope we will not fail.

In any case, we will be devoting all of today's broadcast to the revolution, with no interruptions.

HIRAM-GOLD:
Excuse me!

CECIL:
Excuse me?

HIRAM-GREEN:
CEASE SPEAKING OR I WILL CEASE YOUR SPEAKING FOR YOU.

HIRAM-GOLD:
Easy there, Green head.

CECIL:
Listeners, I'm sorry. Mayoral candidate and literal five-headed dragon Hiram McDaniels has just burst into the studio.

FACELESS OLD WOMAN:
I am also present.

CECIL:
Did someone speak?

FACELESS OLD WOMAN:
Yes, it's me. The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home. I'm crouched in the crawlspace under your studio right now. There are many interesting insects and pipes down here.

CECIL:
Well, it's great to have you both, but there's a revolution to do, so—

HIRAM-GOLD:
Listen, Cecil. Far be it from me to get in the way of your revolution. I'm all for liberty.

HIRAM-PURPLE:
The tree of liberty must be periodically watered with blood and mulched with detached limbs and pruned using shears made from bones. It's my favorite tree.

HIRAM-GOLD:
Yes, exactly, Purple head.

FACELESS OLD WOMAN:
We are here because you are forgetting the most important thing that is happening today. Today is election day. That day when finally Night Vale citizens will be able to effect change. Or not effect change, but be affected by it.

CECIL:
Well. Sure. There's also an election today. And we will definitely cover that as well. Okay? Now please go stand in the alley behind City Hall and await the results, as is traditional.

FACELESS OLD WOMAN:
Thanks, Cecil.

HIRAM-GOLD:
Absolutely. Thank you much. Check back in with you soon.

HIRAM-GREEN:
YES, WHAT MY GOLD HEAD SAID, YOU PITIFUL WHELP OF A MAN.

[
Exit HIRAM and FACELESS OLD WOMAN
]

CECIL:
Let's go immediately to the news.

Many citizens are reporting that old oak doors with brass knobs have been appearing all over town. The doors open onto a desert landscape quite like this one. Through these doors are arriving tall creatures with long faces and broad wings. These creatures are difficult to categorize, but the best I can do is “definitely not-angels.” The not-at-all-angelic creatures are joined by enormous men and women wearing masks. The not-angels and the masked army have torn down the electric fences trapping people at the Strexcorp company picnic.

This is great news. But unfortunately, the news is not over.

Strexcorp has responded with a seemingly unending force of eyeless, blood-drenched office workers, dressed in smart but affordable business casual clothing and armed with jagged knives and toothy smiles. They are backed by a swarm of yellow helicopters that have filled the sky and yet, strangely, have not blotted out the sun. In fact, the sun seems brighter than ever. Unnaturally bright, if a ball of highly compacted gas that sustains life through mere proximity could ever be called natural.

The horrible, smiling office workers have driven the tall, winged creatures and the masked army back from the picnic. The Strex force is too much for even these rescuers from another world to handle. Whatever unspecified powers they have are, unspecifically, not enough, and they are, quite specifically, losing. They are fleeing. Some have fallen, as the ravenous office workers swarm over them.

The angels, or, you know, “not-angels,” have entered the juvenile detention center, looking for a certain little girl, no, young woman, no, human being, and her well-trained militia of other human beings. But the cell that once contained Tamika Flynn is empty.

Instead there are only shackles that have been pulled completely apart, and the words
I AM FOUND
written on a bookmark laid across page 210 of a paperback copy of Leonard Cohen's
Book of Longing
. The current whereabouts of Tamika Flynn are not known. The winged creatures who are all named Erika and the army of masked giants have continued their retreat before the onslaught of eyeless office workers all the way past the Old Town Drawbridge.

Given the urgency of today, I planned to skip some of our regular features as well as sponsor ads, but since forcing out our current ownership, we've gotten a bit behind on our bills. So there's now a sentient patch of haze in my studio.

DEB:
Hello, Cecil. Hello, listeners. My name is Deb.

CECIL:
And Deb won't leave my studio until she has told us about . . . what are you promoting?

DEB:
Whole Foods.

CECIL:
Right. So, even though we have a big revolution to do, let's take a moment to listen to Deb the sentient patch of haze about . . .

DEB:
Whole Foods. Thanks, Cecil.

At Whole Foods, we don't have any rotting, decayed matter mixed into our products. There are no secret blood rooms in our stores, where we keep the secret blood. None of the boxes of cereal contain spiders, and, if they did, they would be very friendly, helpful spiders. Why, you would be lucky to find a spider like that in a box of Whole Foods cereal. Or not just one. Hundreds of them. But anyway, you won't.

Whole Foods serves only the freshest food, and certainly we do not keep venomous snakes under the fruit in our produce section. Why would we? That would be dangerous and not good for business. No one has died of a snakebite in a Whole Foods. No one you know.

Whole Foods: Why in the world would we poison our frozen dinners? We definitely do not.

CECIL:
Thanks, Deb.

DEB:
No, thank you, Cecil. Good luck with whatever you've got going on here. Seems uninteresting and human.

CECIL:
Okay, well . . . good-bye, Deb.

[
Exit DEB
]

[
Sound cue: static, radio distortion
]

Listeners, I apologize for these noises you may be getting. There is some other radio signal interfering with our own.

LAUREN:
Cecil? Hi, it's Lauren Mallard, you know the Vice President of Strexcorp—your parent company.

KEVIN:
Sorry to interrupt.

LAUREN:
Kevin and I are broadcasting from a secret location and we just had to break into your signal. We wanted a moment to talk with you. Gently talking solves a lot of things.

[
Fade out sound cue
]

KEVIN:
Violent revolution has never solved anything.

CECIL:
I beg to differ. America was founded on a revolution. I mean sure, we still are ruled by the reptilians. But the lizard kings let us have our own country after they saw how hard we tried during that revolution thing.

LAUREN:
That was decades ago, Cecil. Anyway, we want to know what we can do to keep your business. We here at Strexcorp Synergists, Inc., are dedicated to the betterment of life through branding, social networking, and upbeat music.

KEVIN:
And hard work.

LAUREN:
I'm pretty sure it's implied that hard work is part of it, Kevin.

KEVIN:
I'm pretty sure I didn't ask for your feedback.

LAUREN:
Cecil, Strexcorp values the efforts you put into making this station what it was. Is. What it is. But when employees are refusing to participate in our trust exercises and boycotting our products and attacking us with our own helicopters, then I think we have failed our mission statement.