Need a prophecy? Take a prophecy. Have a prophecy? Leave a prophecy. Welcome to Night Vale.

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I’m sorry in advance, Night Vale. I can’t find any of my notes. I had so many stories for you today, but they’re all gone now. There was something about a sinkhole and something else about a flesh-gnawing virus. I think a lion escaped from the zoo. Or maybe it just visited the zoo. No, no. A lion bought a zoo. That’s it.

The point is I had all my paperwork in a neat stack next to my microphone, but Station Management moved it. Or maybe they threw it away or ate it. I don’t know. But what was left in place of my neatly typed and well-researched news stories was a pile of memos about office renovations. We have to clean out our work spaces before we leave today and move to temporary offices in the basement for the next week.

Station management has hired contractors to install new lighting, redo the insulation, replace the carpet, paint the walls, and exorcize a malevolent spirit. Oy, that last one. Apparently the sales team forgot to close the séance that they opened during a client presentation last week.

I know this because as I was talking to you, another three page memo was tossed onto my desk reminding us all the exact procedures for properly ending a séance.

Anyway, all I’ve been doing today is cleaning up my office space. I didn’t even eat lunch. But I do have a salmon burger sitting right here just waiting to be eaten. I don’t remember ordering it, but there it is. A thick, juicy, mysterious fish patty with melted camembert and salami on a sourdough bun. Wow I’m starving. But I must wait until the show is done.

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And now an update on former Intern Kareem. So earlier this morning a man who looked, sounded and smelled exactly like Kareem stopped by our offices. I was excited to see him, but he seemed not to know who I was or where he was.

He said “I’m looking for my doppelganger. He used to work here.”

And I said, “Ah yes, of course, are you intending to kill him? I’ve always heard you should kill your double.”

This version of Kareem paused. He said hadn’t considered that, but I could see on his face that he was considering it now.

He wanted to know where his parents were. He told me that the other Kareem had taken them from his hometown, in a place called Michig…. Mincha… Mitchendon. And I remembered that Intern Kareem had talked about this place before. I was about to offer to make some calls when I heard a deep booming sound from behind me. It was a voice, a voice that sounded like many voices. Too many voices. Inhuman voices.

“NOOOO GUESTSSSS” the voice boomed.

I saw Kareem’s face go slack and pale. His eyes bulged. He saw what was behind me. He saw what no one should ever see. He saw Station Management.

“Run,” I whispered urgently to him. But he did not move. “Run,” I grunted again.

Above him, a set of long razor sharp teeth hung. And just like that, they snapped down on empty air… right where Kareem’s head had been seconds before. He was finally running, Station Management chasing him down the hall to the front entrance.

“Don’t stop,” I called to him. “And under no circumstances should you look back!”

So if you’re my former intern Kareem, and you’re listening to the show right now, first off “Hiii! How are you?” Second, you have a double. And I think he might want to kill you, or maybe just talk to you. Or something in between. Anyway, heads up about that.

Dang. Thinking about doppelgangers makes me hungry. That salmon burger looks good. It’s double stacked with bright pink meat and long tendrils of fried onions hanging down. It… it has a sheen to it, like it’s sweating. And it… this is going to sound weird, but even though it doesn’t have eyes or a face, the salmon burger seems to be… staring at me.

Oh Cecil! You’re only hungry. Let it go.

###

[sighs]

So another set of memos just got tossed onto my desk. Let’s see what’s in these… “Please burn all paycheck stubs” Blah blah blah… “Please Only Use Reply-All When You’re Really Mad About Something” Who cares….. “No More Building False Idols In the Breakroom” Oh that’s written for you, KATHLEEN. I’m happy you found religion, but we’re all tired of hearing about Huntokar returning to human form on earth.

Let’s see, here’s another memo… This one’s directed at me. “Attention Cecil Gershwin-Palmer, you have been placed in charge of… CLEANING OUT THE BASEMENT?”

It says here that the finance office has already cleared out all the boxes. I only need to do a thorough sweep and wet-mop the floors. This is ridiculous. Why me? We have Clarence Murphy, the maintenance man, to do all of that. That’s his job to…. [stops in fright]

Listeners… a very warm and… damp… hand just slid another memo over my shoulder. Ugh. I want to turn around to see who (or what) it was, but I know I should not. Never look back, Cecil. Never look back.

Okay, subject line: “The maintenance man.” Body of memo says: “It was 40 years ago on a night just like tonight. Maintenance man Clarence Murphy disappeared. Some say he retired and moved to Palm Desert. Some say he fell into the boiler, his body never discovered. Some say he transcended to the next plane of being. But the truth is he never existed in the first place. We are all Clarence Murphy, the maintenance man. He was a collective dream. He had no body, yet he lives on within us. So please, pretty please, with sugar on top, clean the stupid basement, Cecil. XOXO, Station Management”

And they Scotch taped a single bloody tooth to the bottom of the page. The whole tooth. All the way down the root stem.

I’m so tired. I need food badly. Where’s that salmon burger? Maybe I can take a quick bite or two between…..

Where’d it go? The salmon burger was sitting right here only two feet from me. And now it’s gone.

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[startled] AHH! Oh my, you scared me. Listeners there’s a strange man hunched over my desk.

JOSEPH: Sorry. Hi Cecil, it’s me, Joseph Fink. We met in the coffee shop a few weeks back. You said I could come visit you at the station whenever I wanted.

CECIL: Oh course, yes, Joseph, the pod… pod… person.

JOSEPH: Yeah. Podcaster. I created Night Vale. And that’s why I wanted to come by. I’ve been trapped here in this town of my own making. It’s been really hard. Not because it’s not a nice place. It’s surprisingly nice here, in fact. It’s been hard because I’m trying to get home, to see my wife, Meg, and my baby, who I’ve never met and is more than a year old now.

CECIL: I’m so sorry to hear that. My husband and I went through a similar situation a few years back.

JOSEPH: Oh of course you did! I wrote that.

CECIL: I don’t follow.

JOSEPH: You know what. That was very nice of you to say. Thank you. But while searching for a way home, I’ve managed to meet a lot of people in Night Vale. And it’s fascinating. I met Dana Cardinal, and she’s… this isn’t going to make any sense to you, but she sounds exactly like my friend Jasika. Though, she looks totally different. I realize in writing the characters for this show, that I never really think about what they look like. I guess I just envision the actors who play them? I don’t know.

CECIL: [trying to keep up] You’re right. This isn’t making sense.

JOSEPH: Oh, wait not true. Michelle Nguyen looks a lot like Kate Jones. That was freaky. But like, you? You don’t look a thing like Cecil Baldwin.

CECIL: What do I look like?

JOSEPH: Well, let me describe your exact physical appearance. First off, you…

[booming rumbling, growling or w/e sound of Station Management]

What is that?

CECIL: Well, I can’t see exactly what you see. But based on the smell of burnt hair and olive brine, and the look on your face, it’s probably station management.

JOSEPH: Whoa! I never would have imagined them looking like that. I mean….

CECIL: Joseph. Station Management does not like guests in the building. I need you to go clean the breakroom.

JOSEPH: What? Why?

CECIL: You’re our new Intern.

JOSEPH: Absolutely not. No way.

CECIL: You’re in the building without a guest pass, so according to Station Management’s rulebook, you either work here or you die here.

[Station Management snarls]

JOSEPH: Ok. Understood.

CECIL: Cleaners are under the sink, next to the snake bucket.

Great.

Intern Joseph and Station Management have finally left. Wow, listeners, this day is too much. I’m so hungry. Oh dang! I should have sent my new intern out to get me lunch since my salmon burger disappeared.

No wait. There it is.

Listeners, my salmon burger is climbing the wall. It’s about 18 inches wide now, if you include the length of its long, sharp legs. And it’s climbing the wall. And now, it’s devouring the clock. I use that clock for ad breaks, salmon burger! Come on!

Speaking of which, it’s time for a word from our sponsor. And for that we go to Deb, a sentient patch of haze. Hi, Deb.

###

DEB: Hi Cecil. Heard you’re gonna have to work in the basement, ya?

CECIL: Yeah, they’re moving us down there for a week while they do renovations.

DEB: My cousin Rob lives down there. He loves reading books, playing video games, and creating humidity. He’s a real normal kid. I think you’ll like him.

CECIL: I’m looking forward to it. Who’s today’s sponsor?

DEB: Today’s show is brought to you by Pabst Blue Ribbon. Yes, Pabst Blue Ribbon is made from the freshest ingredients. Malt, barley, spring water, microbes probably, um….. Salt? I don’t know. What else do they brew beer with? Chicken stock? I’ve never made beer before.

Oh! yeast, I know they put yeast in it. Definitely yeast. And wheatgerm? Is that a thing? It is now!

Pabst Blue Ribbon makes their beer with all of these things, and most importantly, they make their beer with love. Love of every kind.

CECIL: [dubious] Every kind, Deb?

DEB: [sinister] Every. Kind. Cecil

CECIL: Wow that sounds like a delicious beer. I can’t wait to…

JOSEPH: Meg? Meg! Is that you?

DEB: Who is this?

CECIL: That’s our new station intern, Joseph.

DEB: Oh! Intern? Good luck to you pal. You’re gonna need it.

JOSEPH: It’s heartbreaking. You have Meg’s voice. You sound exactly like her. But you’re not her, are you?

DEB: [to Cecil] What’s this guy’s deal?

JOSEPH: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you. It’s just Meg’s voice is… well it’s beautiful. And it’s funny, and smart. And when I hear her speak, especially now, especially here, I feel happy. Your voice makes me happy, Me… Deb. That’s all. You sound like my wife.

DEB: Well, that’s real sweet of ya. Listen, I don’t know who this Meg is but I hope that you… [suddenly sees giant crawling thing land in front of her] OHMYGOD HOLY MACKERAL! IS THAT A SPIDER. YOU’RE A BIG SON OF A GUN. AW GEEZ!

[Station management sound approaching, nearly drowning them out.]

CECIL: [urgent] Hey, you two. Listen up. Station Management is not happy about this ad being disrupted. You better get out of the booth. Intern Joseph, back to work. Deb, draft an apology to the sponsor. Salmon burger, stop destroying my studio. Listeners, go, now, to the weather.

[Weather: "Find Out" by AGBAT https://youtu.be/MUKwU0eHeBI]

Okay, offices are all cleared out. And I’m finally moved down into the basement. It’s very dark. But renovations have begun, and by this time next week we’ll have a sparkling new office. That’s the good news.

Now the bad news. To the family and friends of Joseph Fink, he was a good intern, and he will be missed. He got the breakroom super clean. Plus, he told funny stories about how he created this town. But he ran afoul of Station Management. He interrupted one of our live spots. And that’ll require a make-good. Joseph did the unforgivable. So Station Management did the unspeakable. They towered over the frightened Joseph, their teeth bared, their sharp claws reared back. And in one fell swoop… they delivered down upon him… a pink slip. He’s fired. Joseph is no longer an intern at our station.

But at least that will free him up to pursue his favorite hobby of searching for his wife and child. And also to spend more time in this town he loves so much. He did mention something about trying to find my former intern Kareem. I’m not sure if Joseph meant the real Kareem or the Kareem Double. Either way, Joseph said he wants to form a doppelganger support group with Kareem and Dana. Good luck in your future endeavors, Joseph!

And as for Deb, the sentient patch of haze, she’s fine. She’s a sentient patch of haze. It’s not like she can be physically harmed. Station Management did fire her, too. But they’ve fired her dozens of times, and she just comes back to work like nothing happened. And no one ever says anything.

Finally, an update on my lunch. The salmon burger had transformed itself into a spider-like creature the size of a footstool. It climbed up the wall, devoured a clock, a light fixture, and a couple of polystyrene ceiling tiles. Then it dropped down onto Deb and Joseph while they were trying to do the ad. It reared back to attack the two of them, but Station Management arrived just in time.

To be clear, Station Management didn’t come there to save them. Station Management entered the booth because the new intern was ruining a paid live spot. Though, their rage over Joseph’s error turned immediately into rage against my spider-shaped salmon burger.

It turns out Station Management was right about that séance that the sales team forgot to close out. Since the seance had been left open, that poltergeist or dybbuk or demon or whatever had gotten loose. It then possessed the first piece of flesh it found. Which turned out to be my salmon burger.

Station Management managed to squash it with one hand while spraying it with insecticide with the other hand and with yet another hand they covered it with a large bowl and with another hand they called the exorcist and demanded she arrive this afternoon rather than tomorrow morning. And with their other hands they were typing out more memos about how to properly open and close a séance.

You know, I don’t always see eye to eye with station management. Mostly because we’re not allowed to look directly at them without Mortal Consequences, but also because we sometimes differ on certain ways to run a radio station. Still, I’m glad they had our back. It’s like that scene in Hamlet when Hamlet tells Ophelia “I’d fall on a grenade for ya; I’d do anything for ya.” And Ophelia says “Totally. Same.” And then they get married and move to Portugal.

That’s the kind of devotion that’s important to me. So thank you to Station Management for looking out for us. Maybe you’d be into a union as well? Oh no, an abyss is cracking open in the floor in front of me. Changing the subject.

And a thank you to my friend and professional chef Earl Harlan, who was listening to my show today. Earl felt so bad about me not getting to eat my salmon burger that he made me another and brought it up here for me.

Stay tuned next to the sound of stress eating. Just the gooiest hot-mic smacking sounds you’ve ever heard.

Good night, Night Vale. Good night.

PROVERB: The question is not WHO’s a good boy? The question is WHAT’s a good boy? Ask yourself THAT, smart guy.