“Live for a century-learn for a century. Live for two, receive the painful truth of your own existence that only living that long can give. Welcome...to Night Vale.”

[“The Ballad of Fielder and Mundt” by Disparition.]

Listeners, we begin our show with an announcement from the City Council, delivered via well-trained passenger vulture and written in Ancient Sumerian, the official language of the Council. However, for those new citizens who have not yet undergone their mandatory Sumerian Chant classes, I will translate. It reads ‘There will be a Beauty pageant this evening, in Mission Grove Park. Contestants must be over the age of eighteen, and cannot have been reeducated in the past three months. There is no charge for entering. Both participants and spectators, however, are encouraged to donate to the organization for which the pageant is being held: the Desert Flower Bowling Alley. Which is, of course, still working on closing Lane 5 to prevent any more attacks from the city beneath.

Marianne Hanford, the organizer of the pageant, released a statement saying “Beauty is very important. It is the only thing that keeps us from becoming like animals. It gives us some form of purpose and some way of evaluating ourselves. Without beauty, we would become like ants, lost amongst the disarray of the world and torn asunder from all that makes us human.” She then let out a growling scream, ate a tube of lipstick, container and all, and fled back to her BMW.

Now listeners, you have heard my beliefs on beauty before. I believe that you are only beautiful if you do beautiful things. However, since this pageant will act to help our community from further attacks, I welcome it and I encourage people to go and give to a great cause. Even if that cause is being funded by something I do not believe in.

And now, Traffic. The Night Vale Transit Authority would like to remind you that roadwork will be happening on the northbound off-ramp for the entire week, as they are still trying to exorcise the demons that live beneath the road, who have recently become more bothersome than usual. “Tearing passengers out of windows, puncturing tires, removing people’s souls in the middle of their rides. These are all things we have been tolerant of.” A suit-wearing, deer masked representative explained to a crowd of listeners. “However, they have taken advantage of our kindness by diverting routes for a good laugh. This is unacceptable and will be dealt with using the greatest discretion.” He then explained that the demons will be taken to the ruins of Desert Bluffs, as retaliation for beating us 10-2 in our last high school football game against them, before finally smashing a carefully hidden smoke bomb into the concrete and disappearing. This has been Traffic.

I’ve continued to receive telepathic and written notes from listeners, asking me about Khoshekh. He has been slowly recovering at my house, and I am proud to say that he has begun to float, once more. It is only at about a foot above the ground, and it happens very rarely, but progress is still progress, and I am very proud of him. So is Carlos, who I’ve been sending videos of Khoshekh while he is still VERY TEMPORAIRILY trapped in the other world desert. However, I still refuse to try pictures, because of what happened to the interns who took pictures of him while he still floated. I also took him to visit his children, still in the station bathroom. The kittens seemed very happy to see him, shrieking and digging into his fur with their tiny, poison-tipped claws. It was a-dorable!

More on the beauty pageant. The committee is proud to announce that they have gotten fifty applicants to join in on the festivities. Fifty wonderful people will be displaying themselves like peacocks for a good cause, and like peacocks, they will be tearing at each other’s throats and calling upon armies of the damned to help them win. Some of the contestants, apparently, include Old Woman Josie (flanked by her angelic friends, as always. Quick reminder, listeners: angels are not real), Night Vale’s third most beautiful woman, Cactus July, Daily Journal editor LeAnn Hart (who insists that she will be carrying her hatchet with her as she participates, just in case there are any bloggers), the latest Intern, Alice, and…my niece, Janice. Oh my. But really, I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s just another attempt by her father STEVE CARLSBERG to try and spite me. What a jerk.
And now, the Community Calendar. Tuesday, Dark Owl Records is proud to have Janis Joplin in-store for a CD signing, as part of the tour for her latest album ‘I Have Become Trapped in a Point between Earth and Purgatory, Please Help Me, I Can Do This No Longer.’. Wednesday, The Museum of Forbidden Technologies will display their newest time machine. This one appears to be a police box, bright blue, and its name starts with a ‘T’, but the rest of the name is censored as always. Thursday night is Unity Day at the Night Vale Community College. All the dorms will be joining together for fun and games, and townspeople are encouraged to join in. Out of the students who do not join in, one will be set afire as an example to the others. Friday through Sunday will be a blur of purpose and duty, mixed with the awful nature of life itself, leading to terrible dreams and pain for all those who pass through the days. This has been, the Community Calendar.

The pageant begins in fifteen minutes. During which time the gates of Mission Grove Park shall be shut, and no one will be allowed in or out. Now, as I have told you, I do not support beauty pageants. They support far too heavily the ‘ideals’ of beauty. However, because Intern Alice has chosen to join, and thus, we have no one to actually cover the pageant, I must go to see it. Plus, I need to be there for Janice. Even if this is only something STEVE pushed her into, she is still my niece and I must support her. So, now, as I go to watch my niece, I take you to...The Weather.

[‘One More Time with Feeling’ by Regina Spektor]

Listeners, oh listeners. The horrors of the pageant still flash across my mind, like scars across some strange and distant planet, half hidden in shadow and blinded by darkness. I’m sure that it shall fill me with horror to my dying days. However, being a journalist, I must report what I have seen, word for word.
When I came to Mission Grove Park, everything was draped in chiffon and smelled of vanilla and meat. This, of course, was not abnormal, but what was strange was that...everyone was smiling. Wide, demonic smiles, like the strange dolls on that well-known Disney ride, the one with music constantly playing, the kind that makes you begin to go insane with every single note and word. I resisted the pain of the tune in my head and I settled in to observe.

I cannot describe what I saw in that moment, to show the blood and the gore and the awfulness of it all, the white and blue and bright pink dresses stained red with blood, the chanting of the contestants as the beast arose from the ground, the velvet robes and the shining silver amulets and the painting of the goat set upon gold and ebony..it was awful.

But, listeners, there is good news. Janice, my niece, is alive. Scared, but still alive. Old Woman Josie and Leann Hart survived as well, the former (allegedly) through divine intervention, and the latter through her fleeing through the trees and jumping the fence just as the runes began to glow.  However, Intern Alice did not survive, and thus, was the winner of the pageant. To the family of Intern Alice, she looked so pretty in her gown. Not as pretty as a pile of ashes with a crown atop it, but still. She will be missed.

On the lighter side, Teddy Williams proudly reported that over a thousand dollars was raised for the bowling alley. This money, of course, will be spent to cover over Lane 5. In celebration, the Alley will have games half-off, and they will be auctioning off a set of new, top of the line Bloodstones, the very best for your chanting needs.

Listeners, this night has reminded me again: beauty isn’t about physical appearances. You are beautiful if you do beautiful things. That is all you need to be truly beautiful, and all you need to be happy. Stay tuned next, for the slow, soothing hum of a radio. Good night, Night Vale...Good Night.

Today’s Proverb: Give a man a fish, feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, feed him for a lifetime. Teach a man to create hurricanes at will, doom us all to oblivion.