(This episode was co-written with Brie Williams.)

Always keep your eyes closed during a storm. Otherwise, your soul will get all wet and mildewy. Welcome to Night Vale.

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I hate sounding like a news media alarmist, but a phantom ocean has completely destroyed Old Town. I mean, destroyed. Wave after wave of cold brine has entirely swept away the Old Town Drawbridge. Which is a shame because the city made considerable strides toward its completion in recent years. Also missing: a number of cars, pets, human beings, and the teetering stack of bathtubs that granted wishes.

A more complete list of the missing items has been posted at the newly reopened Pancake House. Come on down to the Pancake House! Check if any of your loved ones have been affected by this horrible disaster, and enjoy free hotcakes. One free hotcake per missing loved one!

The surviving residents of Old Town have been placed with compulsory-volunteer host families throughout the rest of town. Many of the survivors from the recent shipwreck have finally been placed in their own permanent housing, and are now hosting flood victims. Having experienced recent displacement themselves, The Really Tall One, Doctor Shouty, Old Wood Teeth, Rebecca, and The Captain are proving to be elegant hosts, and have been reported to provide slipper socks, steamed hand towels, and all-natural calamari-flavored toothpaste to their guests. Their generosity has put many Night Vale residents, who initially complained about hosting the shipwreck survivors, to shame. You know who you are. And so do we. There's a list of those who should be ashamed of themselves posted at the newly reopened Pancake House.

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Sometimes I get really tired of negative reporting. As the most prominent voice in local current events, I feel like what I say and how I say it does make a difference in framing the attitudes of the people who listen. That's a big responsibility. So I've been thinking it's important to focus on the positive things too. I'm going to try to do that more. Starting now.

What I said before was an exaggeration. Old Town isn't completely destroyed. Yes, it's uninhabitable and some people who lived there are now nonliving. But there's a lot of beauty left there too. One might look out over Old Town from the roof of the Earth Sciences Building and appreciate the miles of pristine shining water. Water we desert-dwellers never get to see. All of the tragedy and destruction is almost totally invisible beneath the waves, so it's actually pretty easy to ignore. Oh, and one architectural landmark does remain! The controversial new traffic roundabout is glowing with blue light and can be seen just below the waterline and will be ready to use again soon.

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Speaking of the roof of the Earth Sciences Building, I should tell you guys what happened with Carlos the other night. It went really well. Mostly. I mean, he was very open about the fact that he's been hiding something from me. But he said it wasn't a big deal and he doesn't want to talk about it.

Now, I know I said all I wanted was for him to admit something was bothering him, and that him pretending nothing was wrong was really what was driving me crazy. But it turns out that wasn't true. Now I'm being driven crazy by not knowing what it is. I mean, what if it's about me? Even if it's not about me directly, the fact that he doesn't feel comfortable telling me has to be a problem with us. Doesn't it? We're supposed to share everything with each other. Aren't we?

I couldn't let it go so I finally asked him to see a couples counselor with me. The Really Tall One, who until last week had been staying with my sister and her husband, got her counseling license last week, so we're going to see her. I even get a discount since she's become so close to my niece Janice. We have our first phone session together scheduled for later today. I'm really hoping we can get to the bottom of this so I can stop obsessing. I mean, and also so Carlos can let go of whatever is distracting him so much. And then we can both get back to distracting each other. The emotional complexities of sharing a life with another are all that's on my mind.

Also the sudden ocean which destroyed Old Town. Breaking news on that...

All members of the Marine Biology Association have been reported missing. Brandi Lantz, Girl Scouts splinter faction leader, reports that the GPS tracking devices she secretly adhered to the biologists' shoe heels have stopped transmitting and no one has seen any of the biologists in over twenty-four hours. Members of the Tourism Board have declined verbal comment instead offering a giddy smile while waving a giant foam "Number 1" finger. And with no biologists to throw a tantrum about menacing biohazards hidden in an unsecured locker, members of the Tourism Board have gone out to the storage unit in Radon Canyon to relocate their secret aquarium of semi-animate clear jelly collected from our new ocean to a more public venue.

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Making our flooding situation even worse is the hard rain. On the bright side, we don't normally get much rain around these parts. The gentle percussion of water is so soothing. It reminds me of my new sleep meditation track, Blood Storm.

More on the weather in a moment, but first an update from Radon Canyon. I've received word that the blobs of semi-animate translucent jelly in the Tourism Board's aquarium have fused together to form one giant jelly cube that now completely fills the 12' x 12' storage unit from wall to wall.

Horrifically unnerved by this discovery, Agents from the Tourism Board who went to recover the aquarium, have all left Radon Canyon and hired The Really Tall One for private therapy sessions. Head of the Tourism Board, Madeleine LaFleur, released a statement which only said, "Well, crap." LaFleur was last seen in full sprint toward the airport.

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And now a PSA.

DEB: Hello friends. This is Deb, a sentient (and occasionally benevolent) patch of haze, speaking for the Department of Motor Vehicles. We've had some complaints about our eyeball donation program. We want to emphasize we created this program with only the best intentions.

We’re sure you understand that.

According to a survey, people in the donation program have been Very Satisfied they can retain some sort of consciousness after death. However, they have been reportedly Very Unsatisfied with what their eyes continue to see. This has ranged from nonconsensual television viewing in the middle of a season they are not caught up with, to the witnessing of crimes and subsequent ethical dilemma of testifying in court against their own host bodies.

We hear your concerns. And you know what? Fine. The eyeball donation checkbox will be discontinued on all new DMV forms. The DMV itself has also been discontinued. If you need any services from the DMV, please go to another town. Please don't call or come to the office. If you see any DMV workers around town, please don't speak to them or acknowledge their presence. It's obvious you don't like them. It will only make this harder on all of us. We think a little space would be good for us right now. But we do want you to know, we were only trying to do something nice. We care deeply about our DMV customers and have only ever wanted the best for you. We know that doesn't make it right. But no matter what, just remember, the DMV loves you. The DMV has always loved you. That's the important thing. If we could afford the rights to that Green Day song, we'd play it here. Good knowing you. Love, The DMV.

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CECIL: I want to get back to the Carlos stuff, listeners. I really need to talk this all out, but I keep getting breaking news updates.

We finally have word on the missing biologists. That's good news! We found them out in the scrub lands. The bad news is we were only able to find partially-eaten pieces of them.

With the leadership of the Marine Biologist Association vacated, Brandi Lantz declared herself and her Girls Scout splinter faction as the city’s foremost experts in marine biology. Lantz surmises there is an aquatic creature of large tooth size and insatiable hunger living in this new ocean. Lantz speculated the biologists were engaged in a heroic attempt to study the marine biology abruptly available to them when events took a tragic turn. The biologists' loved ones clarified that the biologists were actually fleeing town under the cover of night and got caught in the worst possible intersection of time and space, dying an agonized and terror-filled death in the exact manner that comprised their worst collective nightmare.

"He died doing what he loved," a spouse of one of the deceased said, "running away from his problems."

[PHONE RINGING]

Oh! Look at the time. That's Carlos and The Really Tall One calling in for our first counseling session. Probably a good time for a weather report.

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THE WEATHER: “Clockwork Family” by Dan Warren

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Well, that was an interesting first counselling session.

Carlos apologized for being so quiet recently and I said it was okay, I was just worried about him, and The Really Tall One said we both sounded like we loved each other a lot. And I said well yes, but that's not the point right now, the point is I want to know all of Carlos's secrets!

Carlos said, “Cecil, if it really means that much to you, I'll tell you. The truth is, this isn't my first phantom ocean. Before I ever came to Night Vale, there was an incident. It happened years ago. It was a different situation, but similar enough that I got preoccupied thinking about it these last few weeks. Sometimes I just need a little space to process things on my own first. It doesn't mean I'm hiding anything from you. I mean, I kind of am. But if it were truly serious, or was directly about us, I would talk with you about it. This is just a scientific and catastrophic phenomenon, not something to do with us”

That’s verbatim what Carlos said. I wrote down every exact word like an experienced journalist carefully investigating a huge story.

Then, I said “yes, okay, fine, but WHAT happened, WHAT incident.”

And he said he still didn’t really want to talk about it. And I asked The Really Tall One, aren't there some sort of therapy exercises we could do to encourage Carlos to reveal every detail of his past to us immediately? And she said no. And I said, “Maybe hypnosis or telekinesis?” I mean, she's new to the counseling profession and maybe isn't aware of all the tools available to her yet. She said we have to accept that Carlos doesn't want to talk about it right now, and maybe doesn't want to talk about it ever.

She said a person's secrets are their own to keep or disclose and it isn't necessarily an indication of the degree of intimacy in a relationship. And I said, “Oh really! Tell that to my 8th grade self!”

Immediately embarrassed, I doubled down and said “I played truth or dare and revealed to my friends that I'm afraid of mirrors and that I had a crush on someone in the room.”

"That's cute" Carlos said. “Who was there?”

And I said, “I can't tell you!” And then I said, “I can't remember actually.”

I don't even remember what year I was in eighth grade, let alone how old I am or even what I look like because of the whole mirror thing, but I didn't want to tell Carlos all that. It was too painful and complicated and not important. And The Really Tall One, who could, I’m sure, hear all of my thoughts, smiled over the phone, which I thought was smug. I'm still not sure how I feel about all of this.

I have a lot more to say here, but there's been some breaking news updates piling up on my desk. Let's skim through the most interesting looking ones.

In order to protect us from the growing jelly cube and its apparent power to create phantom oceans, the City Council decided the key to the jelly-filled storage unit in Radon Canyon will be destroyed, fed to whatever aquatic beast ate the marine biologists. A new budget line item was then approved to pay monthly rent on the unit indefinitely rather than, quote, “ever open that door again.” This cost to the city will be covered by new tax increases on rental cars, gasoline, and dreams where you realize you're naked in public.

A memorial service was held for the remaining body parts of the members of the Marine Biology Association. It was a beautiful service, in which each body part was given recognition for its unique contribution to the whole of who each person was. Inspired by this touching memorial, as well as the silent horror finally locked away in Radon Public Storage, the Tourism Board has decided to abandon plans for the Harbor Waterfront expansion project.

Instead, it will shift its focus to renovating the recently destroyed Old Town. Plans for New Old Town are already underway, with some blueprints taken from the children's Redesign Old Town drawing contest hosted by the Girl Scouts splinter faction.

The Captain is even slated to open a fusion restaurant there later this year. Mm, I love non-specific fusion cuisine! Members of the Tourism Board have acknowledged that a huge amount of money and effort will go into the renovations and that all of that work, time, and expense may or may not be destroyed by a similar incident at any moment. C'est la vie, they were heard to utter. It's possible they actually said cepa vadiare, a protection spell that makes all sand eels harbingers of good fortune.

Okay, I only have a few moments of air time left. And I just wanted to say...Well...you know how if you keep staring at that one spot in the ceiling, it starts to look like a face, and the harder you look, the more it takes shape, and when you can finally see it really clearly, the face never disappears and it's always there watching you? Or like how OxyClean has those commercials where they can get blood out of everything from jeans, to gloves, to loaves of bread, but when you actually use the product, those stains just never go away, reminding you day after day of what you've done. Or, no...

What I'm trying to say is, Carlos, if you're listening, I'm sorry I freaked out and kept pressuring you to talk. Taking space for yourself is not the same as pushing someone away. I guess I needed a little space too, to figure that out. Whatever you need, I totally respect that. I can even go hang out at the Pancake House tonight if you want some alone time. Okay. I just wanted to say that before—

[TEXT ALERT]

Carlos just texted. “Come home now and I will do the opposite of push you away.”

Well, maybe what I’m trying to say is: I've been on the air too long. I really should be getting home, like right now.

Stay tuned next for bubblewrap being popped by rolling pins, meant to simulate the explosion of fireworks.

Goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight.