Speak of the devil. Spit at a wizard. Drink with a ghost. Welcome to Night Vale.

Our top story, obviously, is that after being closed for remodeling, Big Rico’s Pizza is back, baby!

Wow, doesn’t it seem like they’ve been closed forever? It does to me. But it has only been one month.

And of course, a month is forever to certain species of insects who live and die within the span of thirty days. Egg, larva, pupa, adult, breeder, corpse, dust—all in the time it takes to remodel a pizza parlor. One of nature’s little miracles.

I have here a description of everything you can expect to see at the new and improved Big Rico’s Pizza. Or, as they are now called, Big Rico’s Pizza and Entertainment Zone.

That’s right, Big Rico’s is serving up steaming hot slices of entertainment in addition to their famously satisfactory pizza. Customers can look forward to a classic Big Rico’s atmosphere paired with a greater emphasis on family fun.

Updates include a ball pit, a snake pit, a second ball pit with a few snakes hidden in it, Whack-a-Mole, and an animatronic rock band called The Table Scraps.

Oh my god, I love animatronic pizza bands! I wish you all could see the promotional photos, these little guys are so cute. I have their band bio here.

Rodney Rat, Pasha Possum, and Chrissy Cockroach are The Table Scraps! These “party animals” (oh I get it, that’s cute!) use state of the art A.I. technology to write their own songs and create their own fun dances, reacting in real time to their audience and also to the stock market ticker for some reason. We haven’t been able to work that bug out. Anyway, unlike some entertainment pizza bands, they are totally not creepy at all. No child looks upon their waxy visage and weeps. No baby recoils in terror from their wildly jerking limbs or slowly blinking eyes. No parent flees from the mechanical clack of cloth-covered jaws singing along with warped recordings. The Table Scraps can turn any meal into an unforgettable jamboree!

Well, I’m very excited about this news. Esteban’s birthday is coming up and Carlos and I have been wondering where we should have it. The grand reopening is happening right now, so head on down to check it out for yourselves. And please report back.

Let’s look now at the news.

Numerous townspeople have been raptured this week. Like, way more than usual. And to clarify, I’m using the verb “rapture” as shorthand for “getting sucked into the sky.” We have no reason to believe there are any religious implications to it. It appears to be exactly as meaningless as any other way to die. Though I’m not gonna lie, it looks a little more exciting. Just walking down the street, thinking about what to get for lunch, and whooooop! Up you go! Like a balloon accidentally released from a baby’s hand, catapulting toward breathtaking oblivion in a clear blue sky. Ironically getting colder and colder the closer you get to the sun. Thankfully disappearing from view before anyone below can witness the horrors of what happens to your body.

I’d normally give the names and biographical details of those we’ve lost, but given the quantity, that’s all still being sorted out. For now, I’ll only say, you were loved and you will be missed forever, whoever you are.

To those still with us, I would say “stay safe out there,” but individual behavior doesn’t seem to matter on this one. That’s kind of a relief, huh? Rules and precautions can get so tiresome.

Ooh, looks like we have some updates on Big Rico’s grand reopening. Something that involves a lockdown and the fire department. That seems like a bad combo.

But first, traffic.

There’s a new stoplight at the intersection of Somerset and Main. It has one of those built-in cameras, so proceed with caution. You won’t get a ticket but your picture will be published in a newsletter of bad drivers, as part of the traffic department’s new Shame First policy.

If you do stop at the light, please remember to resume driving immediately when it’s your turn. The blinking light can become hypnotic. If you look at it for too long, you will forget things. Where you’re going, where you came from. Someone’s name right after you’re introduced to them. Your internet passwords. Your car keys. That one’s especially important because you’re driving right now. They’re supposed to be in your ignition. Now they’re gone and you can’t think of where they could possibly be. People are lining up behind you, honking and shouting for you to go through the light. You don’t know what to do, so you put your hazards on. They blink synchronously with the stoplight. Red. Red. Red. The cacophony of honking fades away. The frenzied shouting and the angry sets of hands rocking at the sides of your car are a distant thrum. You haven’t forgotten your keys and passwords and people’s names. You’ve transcended them. They’re inconsequential. It’s only you and the stoplight now. Red. Red. Red.

This has been traffic.

Now, back to the grand reopening of Big Rico’s Pizza and Entertainment Zone. The fire department was called in by a neighbor who witnessed smoke and flames shooting from the windows. My brother-in-law Steve Carlsberg is on the phone with the full report, live on the scene. Go ahead, Steve.

STEVE: Hi Cecil. I’m here at Big Rico’s Pizza and Entertainment Zone, celebrating another big win for the basketball team. Of course, I don’t coach them anymore but I overheard Coach Donaldson say this is where they were going to celebrate. So I came out to show my support. They haven’t arrived yet. I might have heard her wrong. Anyway, I just watched the performance of a lifetime, Cecil. The Table Scraps are phenomenal! I haven’t seen a show like that since I was a teenager, when music was more meaningful because emotions were easier to access. Unfortunately, they don't make music like they used to when my body felt good and my future was an open door to a sunny day. New so-called "music" just sounds like I'm in my late 40s and have a job I don't like, ugh.

CECIL: Okay. What’s happening with the fire though?

STEVE: Pyrotechnics! It’s all part of The Table Scraps’ act. The fire department call was a false alarm. There were hardly any injuries. And the people who died were pretty old, so their deaths were probably unrelated. They probably just gently passed away of old age while coincidentally being on fire.

CECIL: And did I hear something about a lockdown?

STEVE: Yep, the whole building locks down automatically when The Table Scraps start playing. Then it unlocks when they finish their show. It’s part of Big Rico’s new entertainment guarantee, so the customers don’t miss out on any of the fun, whether they want to or not. Anyway, the doors are closing, and security is coming to wrestle my phone away from me, because the band’s about to start their next set. Gotta go, Cecil!

CECIL: Thanks for the update, Steve. Sounds like everyone is having a great time out there. We’ll check back with this story in a bit.

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I have an update on the rapture situation. A series of anti-gravity experiments over at the Community College may be to blame. Which would make sense, given that the incidents all occurred near campus while the experiments were being conducted.

But as my friends in the science department assure me, correlation does not imply causation. “Past performance is not a predictor of future results,” as the old saying goes. We can’t assume a cause-and-effect relationship just because two events are obviously totally related. The science department is investigating the matter with an empirical study they hope to conclude in three to thirty years. In the meantime, stay safe out there by doing whatever you want and hoping for the best.

See, this is what real science is all about. Dangerous, frightening experiments conducted on an unknowing populace with a vague aim and no clear end date. Not like the so-called science over at a certain University, not saying which one, but it rhymes with uh…Butt…Pit…Fizz.

Now, listeners, a special treat. Since the new animatronic band at Big Rico’s is so popular, let’s do a Citizen Spotlight on The Table Scraps’ lead singer, Rodney Rat.

Rodney hails from an electronics factory in Milpitas (mill-PEE-tahs), California. He also hails from a puppet fabrication workshop in Brockton, Massachusetts. His complex neural network allows him to translate observations and experiences into song lyrics for his band to perform. Themes of his oeuvre include pizza, family, and the life of a working musician. I have here the lyrics of one of his hit songs, Pizza for the Weekend.

In a dark room, in a strange town

Little Billy eats pizza for dinner

Eat a little, get a little older

Mama made pizza

Nobody made pizza

Pizza for the weekend

I run the streets

Take a risk, break free

You can float a pizza above the flames from a train

Ooh, I wonder if that’s where the pyrotechnics come in. Maybe on that “flames from a train” part. If not, that would be a great place for it.

Rodney Rat’s bandmates are Pasha Possum, who plays guitar, and Chrissy Cockroach, who skitters around the stage using her long spiny legs as percussion. They’ve technically known each other their entire lives, though A.I. has no concept of linear time.

Welcome to town, new robotic residents!

And now, a look at education.

Cursive lettering will be banned in all Night Vale Public Schools. Letters once flowing together in unity will now have to stand on their own, reflective of our strong individualist society. Those dang letters have gotten a free ride for too long, propping each other up, working together, never taking a minute to slow down and simply be. What’s the hurry, cursive letters? Why so codependent?

“Cursive letters are subservient little lemmings. And we are here to smash them apart, by force if necessary,” PTA president Gordon Moreno spoke out at the last school board meeting. He was met with cheers and applause, and the motion to ban was passed unanimously. All denounced the conformist method of penmanship by voting exactly alike.

Any student found to be using cursive, on or off school grounds, will be expelled and made to watch the cursed video tape that was recently found in the janitor closet. Everyone is just super curious what happens when someone watches it, so this seemed a great way to find out.

And now, a disturbing update from the Big Rico’s Pizza and Entertainment Zone grand reopening. What was once a day filled with fun and laughter has descended into a scene of chaos and terror.

Children and families run for their lives but are unable to escape the locked building. It’s unclear exactly what the threat is, but I’m getting various panicked messages from those trapped inside. They are coming for us, one frightened resident writes, while another says in all caps PLEASE GOD MAKE THE MUSIC STOP.

Several children who attempted to seek refuge in the ball pits disappeared beneath the colorful plastic orbs and are now considered missing. The children who sought refuge in the snake pit, however, are safely cushioned by vipers and doing well.

Sounds like things have taken a turn down there. I wonder what went wrong? I’m calling Steve’s phone but there’s no answer. While I try to get in touch with someone on the scene, let’s go to the weather.

[WEATHER]

Vinyl booths, slashed apart. Stained glass lampshades, shattered. Red plastic pitchers of root beer, tipped, cascading frothy waterfalls onto the carpet. Pizza slices, abandoned.

Something happened down at Big Rico’s Pizza and Entertainment Zone. Something bad. And whatever it is, it’s still happening.

I’ve received several updates from Steve that the animatronic band, The Table Scraps, have gone on some kind of rampage and are holding everyone hostage. He’s currently hiding in the prize closet and doesn’t want to talk on the phone in case they can hear him. Though he says they haven’t stopped playing music the entire time, using their groundbreaking AI to incorporate the violence and terror seamlessly into their pizza themed songs. He’s not sure if the robots are malfunctioning, but the manager is on hold with tech support to do some troubleshooting.

Meanwhile, Rodney Rat is lighting things on fire and Pasha Possum is ripping pizza boxes to shreds. Chrissy Cockroach is still just skittering around, but seems to be corralling the children into the arcade alcove. The children are all crying but can’t seem to stop singing along to the ceaseless music.

[TEXT DING]

Update, Rodney Rat has now imprisoned a teenage girl inside the walk-in refrigerator. He is outside the door singing “you are the one we seek,” over and over, in the center of a ring of fire.

[TEXT DING]

Oh, breaking news, listeners! Officers from the Sheriff’s Secret Police have arrived at Big Rico’s. And they have successfully entered the locked building with their town skeleton key. (Huh, didn’t know that existed.) That’s cool. Especially because it apparently is made from an actual skeleton, although they won’t say whose.

While we wait to see how that goes, here’s a message from the man himself, Big Rico Goldblum. I was wondering where he’s been during all this. Let’s see what he has to say.

BIG RICO: Cecil, this is all a big misunderstanding. The Table Scraps are only trying to protect the restaurant. It started out with this buddy of mine. I won’t say his name. But he’s a kingpin, you could say, down at the Cheesecake Factory. We got to talking one night and he told me about all the trouble he was having with vandalism after hours. And there was this experimental security guard program he was involved in developing, called Cheesecake Factory Warriors. Basically, he commissioned A.I. robots to act as night security for the restaurant. They were made to look like typical nighttime animals so they could go undercover and apprehend wrongdoers. Rat, possum, roach. Great idea, right? Fast forward a few weeks and it turns out, their security methods actually ended up escalating the destruction of property. The Cheesecake Factory burned to the ground, as you may recall. The bots were decommissioned after that and stored in The Rehabilitation Institute For Wayward A.I. and Pizza Animatronic Band Supply Depot. That’s where I picked ‘em up, and lemme tell you, I got a great deal on ‘em. I guess part of their old programming is still in their systems, but they do mean well. I hope this sheds some light on what happened today and doesn’t deter anyone from enjoying our new entertainment facilities! Remember, no one does a pizza like Big Ricos! No one.

No one.

No.

One.

CECIL: Listeners, I’m getting reports that the imprisoned teenage girl has been released from the refrigerator and taken into law enforcement custody. She is charged with tagging a bathroom stall in black Sharpie with a heart shape and the initials of herself and her boyfriend. As we all know, this is a very serious offense. Publicly written declarations of love are dangerous and illegal. Writing utensils might have been decriminalized, but you still can’t just blatantly use them in public.

I guess we all misjudged The Table Scraps. We should have never run screaming from their shrieking maws, undulating appendages, or weaponized musical instruments. They were only trying to keep us safe after all.

Be sure to catch them down at Big Rico’s Pizza and Entertainment Zone, whenever it opens up again. I imagine they’ll be closed for repairs for at least another few life cycles of an insect, as they say.

Stay tuned for a one-hour uninterrupted rock block of boulders plummeting down a mountainside. Tune out before they get too close.

Goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight.