Who's a Good Boy?

by Joseph Fink

  Next week, the Night Vale Scorpions take on the Pine Cliff Lizard Monitors, who are coming off last year’s successful nine-and-one season, which was due in large part to all of their players being ghosts and thus extremely difficult to tackle.

  The Scorpions will need a lot of luck as they will be without star running back Malik Herrera this season. After last year’s scandal in which it was revealed he wasn’t real, Herrera quit football to pursue his dream of becoming a conceptual artist. His current medium is wood carvings on living trees. He’s been at work in the Whispering Forest along the east side of Night Vale, etching phrases like “you look nice today” and “i have always loved you” into some of the cedar trunks. The Whispering Forest usually lures humans with compliments and then subsumes them, turning them into trees as well. But since Malik doesn’t actually exist, he’s immune to such pressure.

  Oh, guess what! We have a new intern. She’s been with us the past couple of weeks, handling our social media. I’m kind of an old fossil and am not really good at things like the internet. In fact, I think I’ve long since let my license to use a computer expire.

  But new intern Danielle has really picked up the slack, transcribing my work e-mails and my Hannibal fan poetry onto a Tumblr page. Intern Maureen used to do all of that, but since she left, I’ve had to lean on Danielle for all of her expertise. Good work, Danielle!

  Speaking of which, with the current controversy at the Dog Park, I’m going to need you to go down there and report on what’s happening.

  [beat]

  Danielle is in the producer’s booth shaking her head no. Danielle, you look horrified. This is an easy story.

  She’s writing something down. Okay, Danielle just held her hand up to the plexiglass. She’s written on her palm in black marker: “This position regularly puts interns in harm’s way, and I would like to remain at my desk, where I am safe. I don’t want to die. The Dog Park is not safe. Please understand and respect my concerns. Sincerely, Danielle.”

  Danielle also has extremely legible handwriting and large palms.

  Okay, I understand that, Danielle. I think you’re overreacting. The last time I sent an intern to report a story at the Dog Park, she became mayor. But okay. You do your thing.

  Well, it sounds like we’re getting our first eyewitness reports from the Dog Park. We have on the phone right now John Peters, you know, the farmer? John, are you at the Dog Park right now?

  JOHN: Howdy, Cecil. I sure am.

  CECIL: What’s happening down there. Are people demonstrating? Is it peaceful?

  JOHN: It all depends on your definition of peaceful, Cecil. I’m looking right now at all these people. They are all in a long row, standing upright and perfectly still. Mayhaps a slight sway to each individual in the breeze, but otherwise perfectly planted and stoic. They’re all so quiet, not a single sound, except some incidental rustling, the mundane din of physical existence, that sort of thing. But not a word is being spoken.

  CECIL: This is amazing. I’m so proud of our town, taking a non-violent approach toward civic change. This reminds me of the classic sit-ins where prote——

  JOHN: Well, like I said, Cecil. They ain’t sitting per se. They’re all totally upright.

  CECIL: Okay, sure. I know. I just meant—

  JOHN: You should say what you mean. That’s a famous quote. You know who said that?

  CECIL: I know Lewis Carroll wrote—

  JOHN: Nope!

  CECIL: Who said it then?

  JOHN: Now there are birds soaring above. Lots of black birds circling the rows of silent citizens. The birds are cawing and landing on some of them. There’s one citizen in particular who is standing on a wood pike, his arms spread wide, his head cocked a bit to the side. He’s wearin’ a straw hat and a smile of unnatural geometry. His eyes are solid black and seem to be protruding from his rough face. The birds are avoiding this particular man. I think perhaps he is the leader of these people, as he also stands perfectly still, perfectly silent. He is so stoic. So strong. Cecil?

  CECIL: Yes, John.

  JOHN: I’m lookin’ straight at the sun right now, Cecil.

  CECIL: John, don’t do that. That’s bad for yo——

  JOHN: It’s so beautiful. It’s beautiful and it hurts.

  CECIL: John.

  JOHN: Oh. Here comes a cloud. That sure’s a relief.

  CECIL: So are the people at the Dog Park carrying signs of any sort? Are they wearing T-shirts with slogans? Anything like that?

  JOHN: They’re just all green and leafy, rising from the dirt. Little tufts of brownish hair on top. Some of the birds are pecking at their faces now, eating the bulbous golden flesh hidden beneath. SHOO! GET GONE, YOU BIRDS! Good, I think the birds are leavin’. Oh no. They’re just circling back to some other people further away. Now they’re eating them other folks’ heads. It’s brutal, Cecil. Just brutal.

  CECIL: John. Wait. Are you in a cornfield?

  [beat]

  JOHN: Well.

  CECIL: It sounds an awful lot like a cornfield.

  JOHN: I don’t want to get into an argument with you about semiotics, Cecil, but I know what I see.

  CECIL: Thanks for the update, John.

  JOHN: Oh, you bet, Cecil. Always nice to talk to you. GET GONE, YOU BIRDS.

  CECIL: And now a word from our sponsor. Today’s show is sponsored by Knife. Need to cut a thing? Use Knife. Need to poke a hole in another thing? Try using Knife. Have one thing and want it to become two or more smaller things? You could try Saw. Saw sometimes works, but other times? You need Knife. Just listen to Knife in action. [knife sound] Amazing. [knife sound again] Knife.

  This has been a word from our sponsors.

  To deal with the controversy surrounding the no dogs or people in the Dog Park policy, Mayor Dana Cardinal (Hey, Danielle! That’s the former intern I was talking about. You sure you don’t want to go write a Dog Park story? Okay. Fine.) has sent her director of Emergency Press Conferences Pamela Winchell to deliver an emergency press conference. Here is what she had to say.

  PAMELA: Today is an important day in our city’s history. Today, citizens of Night Vale have spoken, and they have said something. I wasn’t paying attention. I can’t hear and see and understand every single thought or feeling everyone is having at every single moment.

  Someone is always trying to explain things to me. “Put the car in reverse to go backwards.” “Don’t point that gun at me, Pamela.” “Greenland is mostly ice, whereas Iceland is actually Ireland misspelled.” Always someone over my shoulder telling me how to do something, or someone on my shoulder crying, or someone below my shoulder in a headlock.

  It’s just too much for me to take in. So some of you are against the Dog Park or maybe you’re against the people against the Dog Park. I don’t know. Who can tell? Maybe you’re against dogs who are parking. Why would dogs park? Dogs can’t drive. Wait! Did you mean dogs barking? Are you against the dog BARK?

  Oh. Yeah. I’m with you on that. There’s nothing worse than an idiot dog voicing its idiot opinion. Keep it to yourself, King Charles. Nobody asked.

  Well, maybe somebody did. I once asked a dog, “Who’s a good girl?” and it was silent. It didn’t know. Or it didn’t want to say. Either possibility made me sad. I’m still sad about this.

  Let’s have a moment of silence for my sadness.

  [moment]

  Okay. I’m still sad though. But the sadness sits better with me.

  Did you know it takes more muscles to frown than it does to think about being sad? It’s true.

  No questions. I’m taking no questions. We’re done here.

  Oh. Before I forget. Cecil. Can we move our coffee date from Tuesday to Wednesday? I have a dental appointment Tuesday. I almost forgot why I had originally called. Call me back, okay!

  [beeeep]

  CECIL: Oh, I guess that was just a voice mail from Pamela, not a press conference. Never mind.

  And now an update on the hole in the vacan
t lot out back of the Ralphs. The group of huddlers that meet at the hole and huddle have now taken up nestling. “We’re done huddling,” said a spokesperson for the group.

  No one knows who these former huddlers/current nestlers are, nor their regularly scheduled nestling times, just that they like to nestle in the hole in the vacant lot out back of the Ralphs. They also like it when other people come join them. They formerly enjoyed huddling, but now their new thing is nestling. “Come nestle with us,” their press release reads. “What’s the worst that could happen? We don’t know and we’d like to find out,” it concludes.

  A spokesperson for the group issued a new statement just now. “Do not assume we like nestling or dislike huddling. Nestling just is. Huddling just was. This is everything,” the statement reads.

  So go nestle. Also Ralphs is a proud sponsor of our station, so maybe get some shopping done as well. Probably do the shopping part first.

  We’re getting word that the people at the Dog Park have begun shouting at the hooded figures who inhabit the Dog Park. They are shouting things like “I do not like the Dog Park Policy” and “Please can my dog and I come play in the park?” and “That’s a nice park.”

  Some of the dog owners have begun holding up spit-soaked tennis balls and well-chewed Frisbees, and they are demanding that they be let into the Dog Park so that they may get some exercise with their loving and loyal canine companions. One of them even shouted, “My dog has to pee really badly. See?” And then they pointed at their dog and the dog was shifting its weight nervously from leg to leg, its eyes anxious and its cheeks obviously flush underneath the dark fur.

  In response to this heightened civil disobedience Mayor Cardinal announced that she and the City Council will hold a meeting today to discuss their various options for changing the Dog Park policy.

  The City Council, speaking in unison, said they hated this idea. And then they sent a dozen or so helicopters across the city of Night Vale spraying every citizen with sedatives.

  Well, it sounds like maybe some headway will be made at the Dog Park. I hope it is soon, as things have gotten confrontational. I hope that [yawns] oh, my gosh [yawns] whew. I better take us . . . before I drift off . . . to the . . . weath—[zzz]

  WEATHER: “I Love You Oddly” by Rebecca Angel

  Good news. That sedative-assisted midday nap left me well rested and full of vim and pep.

  More good news. After hours of meetings between the mayor and the City Council, the Dog Park has been officially opened to use by dogs—a first in its three years of existence.

  There are some rules and guidelines for Dog Park usage, of course, as outlined just now by the City Council.

  First, anyone wishing to take their dog to the Dog Park must have a dog. Second, dog owners must submit proper paperwork proving that they are blood-related to their dog. Third, after a municipal review committee approves the application, a hooded figure will take the dog into the Dog Park and play with the dog using city-approved Frisbees, sticks, and balls. Dog owners may not accompany the hooded figures during this time and will be safely packed away in Styrofoam containers for the duration of the Dog Park program.

  The City Council added that there will be a slight bump in gasoline taxes to pay for this new program. Also they will be building new, higher, obsidian fencing around the Dog Park. They added that dogs who go into the Dog Park as part of this new program will not be returned to their owners. Finally, they’ve hired Troy Walsh Landscaping to plant new white lily gardens around the perimeter of the Dog Park. Troy is sure great at everything he does, so that should be real pretty.

  Well, good job, Night Vale. It’s a small step forward, but your voices were heard. So often we think that politics is just arguing about who should pretend to be president, but real change starts here at home. With your streets and neighborhoods and communities. I’m proud of the great work done by our citizens today. We all came together over an issue important to the people, and we were heard by our leaders. How inspiring!

  As the old saying goes: “Horses leave hoofprints on your heart.” That doesn’t have anything to do with togetherness or change. It’s just a warning that horses are dangerous and will try to kill you. Know that, and you can accomplish anything.

  Stay tuned next for a review of the popular new film: Unedited CCTV Footage-Citgo #4172 Left Rear Cam.

  And as always, good night, Night Vale. Good night.

  PROVERB: The word motel is an amalgam of the words murder and hotel.

  Episode 75:

  “Through the Narrow Place”

  OCTOBER 1, 2015

  RUNNING HAS ALWAYS BEEN A PART OF MY LIFE. MY DAD RAN EVERY single day, until a heart condition forced him to stop. I think that was one of the hardest things about the diagnosis for him, losing the ability to go for his daily runs. I did cross-country in high school, running six or seven miles a day, staying well after the end of school to do so. Now I go for runs on the country road I live on. My wife and I give each other reports on the animals we see when we get back from our respective runs. Recently I saw two flocks of wild turkeys, an old white dog who usually barks at me but who today just walked past me glumly, and a tiny black bird chasing a huge owl. There are times the woods feel like a more happening place than the Brooklyn neighborhood we left behind.

  This episode is built around a mysterious process. The process of going “through the Narrow Place.” What does this mean? I have no idea. There is, I think, a misunderstanding about mysteries. And that is that they are usually meant to be solved. A mystery that is meant to be solved is really a puzzle, and as a writer you can only have so many puzzles. Meanwhile, most mysteries act instead as stand-ins for the world and life. Which is to say that we don’t understand the world or our lives, and so we feel a deep connection when fiction confronts us with a mystery that cannot be solved.

  Much of the mystery here is built out of the use of particular phrases and words, repeated over and over: “the Narrow Place,” obviously, but also phrases like “we wore black coats.” A writer learns all the ways that language can be utilized. It can be used to tell a story, sure, or build a character. It can be used to inform or to deceive, to confuse or to illuminate. But writing can also be used to create scenery. I don’t mean describing scenery, I mean creating a set for your story, like a set in a theater for a play. That set is built out of words. By creating this hook of repeating phrases and words, you create a set built of those phrases within which the rest of the story takes place.

  Two quick notes:

  One of Khoshekh’s kittens is named Mixtape. My wife and I have a game we play in which every animal we see must be named. One of us will turn to the other, point at a cow we’re driving by, and ask, “What’s her name?” and the other will answer “Madeline, I think? Or maybe Mary Ann? We drove by so fast I couldn’t quite hear.” Mixtape was a name that my wife gave to a stray cat in Rome, and it struck me as a truly perfect name for a cat. We can’t have a cat, due to allergies, but if we did, its name would be Mixtape (or Barbara Emmaline Quendeline Sauce, Barb E. Q. Sauce for short).

  Those paying attention might notice some stuff hidden with the “Hey There, Cecil” section. For instance, readers of the first Welcome to Night Vale novel might realize that they are reading about two of the main characters. This episode was written after we had written the novel, but a month before it came out, so ultimately this was an Easter egg more for ourselves than anything. Also the secret plot that will culminate in Episodes 89 and 90 continues to build in this section.

  —Joseph Fink

  It’s not the destination. It’s the endless, exhausting journey.

  WELCOME TO NIGHT VALE

  What an exciting day for amateur athletes or just anyone who enjoys moving their body for whatever reason someone would want to do that. Today is the Annual Marathon Through the Narrow Place. This yearly marathon is a family-friendly charity race that takes people on a beautiful twenty-six-mile-or-so course along the Crooked Path
, down into the Deepening, and, ultimately, Through the Narrow Place.

  Race organizers say that this will be the biggest marathon yet, with all the town forced to take part by the terrifying Harbingers of the Distant Prince, and that all participants will be devoured by the Narrow Place.

  Race board president Susan Willman added, “That sounds a lot more dramatic than it is. Sorry, you know how when you talk mostly with a small group of friends you end up developing a shared way of speaking that can be misleading or misunderstood when heard by outside ears? We just like to say that the Narrow Place will devour them because what will happen is that the Narrow Place will consume them with an unfeeling hunger and they will dissipate.” Susan laughed, continuing. “Oh there it is again. That sounds so frightening when I say it that way, doesn’t it? Doesn’t it sound frightening?”

  She laughed. Susan laughed. She laughed. Her mouth was black and featureless inside. She laughed.

  The marathon is this afternoon and will be the end of us all. More on this soon, but first, let’s get into some news.

  The Desert Bluffs City Council and Desert Bluffs mayor Dan Cardozo announced this week via a golden press release hidden in one lucky Sulphur Crunch candy bar, that due to an extreme deficit in municipal funding, they would have to shut down certain city services, including trash pickup, road maintenance, and tree monitoring. Starting this Monday, citizens will have to drive their own trash to the dump, roads will gradually start to deteriorate under the erosion of particulate desert wind, and the movements of trees will go entirely unwatched and unrecorded.

  The City Council and Mayor Cardozo indicated that they had done everything in their power to prevent this shutdown, including requesting federal assistance, selling off city property, and making offerings of food and wine to the ancient sandstone idols out in the dunes, but that the catastrophic loss of employment and tax dollars after StrexCorp shut down operations in town were too much for even those measures to make up for. StrexCorp Synernists Inc., of course, was the former employer of every single person in Desert Bluffs, until the company’s rapid expansion plans into nearby towns led to their downfall and subsequent hostile takeover by beings who are definitely not angels. The not-at-all angels closed down almost every Strex office, and laid off, or as they put it, liberated, all former Strex employees, and at this point are mostly liquidating Strex resources in order to fund operas here in Night Vale.