Speak strangely and carry an incomprehensible stick. Welcome to Night Vale.

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We apologize once again for accidentally providing a platform to Dr. Janet Lubelle of the University of What It Is. A couple of weeks ago, I was tricked away from my post here at the station, and she was allowed to broadcast freely over our airwaves. I’m sure many of you experienced anger, sorrow, ear ulcers, and maybe even peed yourself a bit. And that’s my fault. I should not have been so easily duped by her assistant Dr. Blake Jones. He was so convincing with his tiny little mustache, narrow eyes, and knife-wound of a mouth. I’m more disappointed in myself than you are, Night Vale.

But, there’s no such thing as an error, only a learning experience. For instance, the Night Vale Spiderwolves’s infield committed 4 learning experiences last night in a 7-run loss to the Red Mesa Ant Carpenters. It can only get better from here.

And as Station Manager, I’ve doubled up the locks on the doors to keep Dr. Lubelle and her lackeys out of here.

I’ve received some kind and understanding emails from listeners, and I’m really appreciative of those. Like this one from Morris Sanderson, who said: “Love your show Cecil. I always listen while running my blender. I love running my blender. It is very loud, and I love fast-moving blades. I wish I could wear the blender as a hat every day. I hope you’ll do a show about hats some day. Anyhoo, I was very sad to hear Dr. Lubelle’s voice on the radio, because it is not as good as yours. Also because she’s a scientist, and I think maybe we should run the scientists out. They don’t deserve to know about my hat ideas.”

Thank you, Morris. But I do want to caution you all that we’re not against science. Remember that we’re all on the same side, which is against Dr. Lubelle. But we’re also on the side that science is good. As my husband Carlos says: “Science is objectively, empirically, and measurably very neat.” And he’s right. Let’s love science, but hate the University of What It Is.

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And now the news. Night Vale Coroner Ryan Medellin has issued a report on the body dug up in the sandwastes earlier this month. Officials believed these remains to be of former mayor Dana Cardinal’s doppelganger, or possibly Dana herself. While interning at this radio station in 2013, Dana murdered her doppelganger with a stapler. Or perhaps it was the other way around. And the Sheriff’s Secret Police, as well as those terrible researchers at the University of What It Is were hoping that this body would close the case on this mystery.

Here now is Coroner Medellin’s printed report: [reads this while eating]

So, uh, yeah, I got a trash bag a couple weeks ago from the sheriff’s office, and I finally got around to checking it out. Mmm. This is good. What is this? A reuben? It’s very messy. And, yeah, so yeah, I finally got around to checking it out. I was a little busy because I adopted a new dog, and she’s been keeping me awake at night flapping her wings in my face and screeching. But she’s at least eating all of the mosquitos, so I love her. I named her Robert.

Oh dang this bread is good too. Rye? Definitely rye. Ooh, marbled!

Anyway, after careful examination, I, Ryan Medellin, Night Vale Coroner, can confidently declare that these remains are not of Dana Cardinal, nor her doppelganger. I know these remains to be a pile of Atari video game cartridges of the much-maligned film-tie-in game E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial. Peace!

And with that report, it seems that the case is not closed on Dana Cardinal. In fact, Dr. Lubelle has demanded a second opinion on the coroner’s report. She claims that coroners don’t have to be actual medical professionals, and Mr. Medellin clearly wasn’t analyzing the body, but instead rummaging through a garbage bag he found out back of the Antiques Mall.

Coroner Medellin then issued a follow-up statement, which I will read here verbatim: LA LA LA LA LA Can’t hear you, Lady! LA LA LA

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I’m thrilled that Night Vale is refusing to cooperate with these monsters, but sadly, it doesn’t seem to be working. The University of What It Is has trailers and campers set up just outside the town limits. They’ve legally obtained this land and there’s no law to prevent them from entering our city.

Freezing them out has been impossible. But there’s a new approach coming. Tamika Flynn, who is a member of our City Council, has taken on the role of diplomat. Tamika wants to negotiate and reason with the University, imploring them to stop their scientific Explanations because they’re destroying everything we love.

Tamika began talks today with Dr. Blake Jones. She has suggested that Pine Cliff is a much more scientifically interesting town, because everyone there is a ghost. Maybe check that place out instead. But it was a no-go. So she said why not Sagebrush Valley. They have cacti there that grow in the shape of horses. They also have horses that have cactus-like skin. Surely there’s an interesting paper to publish from that, Tamika said. But again, Dr. Jones reiterated that there is no town more scientifically interesting than Night Vale. They’re not going anywhere.

Sadly, listeners, I’m not so sure this tactful, adult Tamika is as effective as teenage militia-leader Tamika. In fact, young people all across our city are calling for the formation of a new militia if Tamika has abdicated her responsibilities with the old one.

I love how civically-minded youth today are, and I know diplomacy hasn’t worked yet. But let’s give it a chance.

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And now, financial news. The invisible corn market has collapsed. Futures are trading at less than one cent after scientists from the University of What It Is explained that the many acres of Invisible Corn belonging to John Peters (you know the farmer?) are just infertile dirt fields. He’s been selling empty crates and calling it produce. Everyone buying his invisible corn was being ripped off, according to these awful people.

Because of this, John has lost his entire clientele, his whole identity, his livelihood. Plus, there is a massive shortage of invisible corn, or perhaps a glut of it. No one is sure what they’ve been eating if it was never real to begin with.

John says he’s doing fine and that no one should cry for him. He’s been meaning to pivot to a new career as a singer-songwriter. He just put out a new album called Quiet Covers: 12 Completely Silent Versions of Folk Classics. So look for it on bandcamp, or just pretend you already have it. He hopes you’ll love it.

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An update on diplomatic efforts. Tamika’s second round of meetings with the University did not go well. They just laughed and laughed when she offered tax-based financial incentives to focus their studies outside of Night Vale. Dr. Jones said they’re too productive to leave. Why, this morning alone, they explained away Invisible Corn as non-existent, the demon-possessed girl on Williams Street as having an allergic reaction to her cats, and the Brown Stone Spire as an unusual rock formation that someone wedged a Bluetooth speaker into. Dr. Jones said there’s no way they could leave this gold mine of a city.

Unless, he said, unless there was an incredible story. Something that was truly arcane or even supernatural. Dr. Jones said so much of what they’ve explained away so far has been commonplace. There was the Chupacabra that was simply a rabid coyote. And the UFO which was a single engine Cessna that forgot to file a flight plan. That’s boring, Dr. Jones said, but what if there was something truly beyond explanation. Something that would take us months, maybe even years to resolve.

And then Dr. Jones got a glint in his eye and asked: “What about the man Josh Crayton? We hear he is a shapeshifter. Someone said he turned into a waterfall? In class? If we could study him, we’d absolutely take him and then leave town. That would be the discovery of the century.”

Tamika, truly insulted, said no. She refused to hand over any one of her citizens to these madmen. She even went to Josh’s mother Diane to warn her, but Diane said Josh wasn’t even in town. Diane said he had gone to visit his father, but she looked away when she said it, like she didn’t even believe her own lie. No one has seen Josh in days. I hope he’s okay. Keep a look out for a 23-year old man who could look like absolutely anything. And if you do find him, keep it to yourself. We hope Josh is safe, wherever he is.

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And now a public service announcement from the Night Vale Medical Community. It’s never too early to start thinking about your colon. First thing in the morning. Think about that colon. Really envision it. Colors, shape, texture. Doesn’t matter how early. It’s never too early to completely visualize your own colon. Gross, you say? Well, that’s just your opinion, man. Maybe you’d be healthier if you didn’t think of your own body as a disgusting garbage pit of blood and poo. Attitude matters, and we don’t like the energy you’re bringing to this conversation. Not one bit. You should learn to love yourself, even the parts of you that handle the commode stuff.

Oh, look at you cringing and going eewwwwwwwww. Grow up. You’re a child.

This has been a PSA from the Night Vale Medical Community.

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Frustrations have swelled to a new high in Night Vale after Councilmember Tamika Flynn’s failed diplomatic attempts with the University of What It Is. Tamika tried offering them everything from limitless use of the scrublands to a coupon book full of cute tasks like free backrubs. She even offered an extra hour in the ball pit at the Night Vale Convention Center. But Dr. Lubelle and all of her henchmen will not budge. They want Josh Crayton. They’d also settle for The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Our Homes. They even asked if Hiram McDaniels was still around. But Tamika would not give them any single person.

We are all so tired of these people destroying our citizens through scientific explanations. But we’re also tired of nothing working. So in lieu of the diplomatic breakdown, Night Vale citizens have formed a vigilante group to combat the University.

Night Vale, I beg you that while nonviolence hasn’t worked YET, and in the scope of history it has worked way less often than you were taught, it still can. We cannot resort to physical aggression. Sure the Sheriff’s Secret Police might look the other way if you did a harmless little arson or a friendly coordinated assault against the University of What It Is, but is it right? What are we? Are we a community? Or are we a mob? A gang? Are we a gang? Do we have cool gang uniforms and matching hats and turf that we protect using switchblades and dancing? Is that what we are Night Vale?

I don’t always know what’s right from wrong, especially when emotions run high. (I sure did want to punch Dr. Jones in the face, so I get it.) Take a moment to think first. While you do, here is… well, sadly, it’s not the “weather” anymore, now that Dr. Lubelle explained that away. It’s just a song. Here’s a song for you to listen to.

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SONG

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At dusk, the mob gathered outside the mobile trailers of the University of What It Is, just on the edge of town, torches lit, axes sharpened, throwing stars tucked into cute little crisscrossing sashes. At the forefront of our frontier justice was the Sheriff themself.

Sheriff Sam stared down Dr. Janet Lubelle, just outside her trailer. Both Sam and Dr. Lubelle had diabolical glints in their eyes and tight sinister grins. Dr. Blake Jones looked uncharacteristically nervous just over Dr. Lubelle’s shoulder. He held his head high, but you could see a slight falter to his jaw, a hesitancy in his breath. At one point, he whispered to Dr. Lubelle. No one knows what he said to her. Possibly he pleaded for a truce. Possibly he called for war. Possibly he just had some thoughts on the new season of Succession. We can’t be sure. But we did know he could be shaken.

Conflict was imminent. Hundreds of people ready to fight, maybe even die, or worse, kill for what they believed in. The grumbles from the crowd grew into a chant of “Down With Science! DOWN WITH SCIENCE!” which eventually devolved into cacophony. And as the dam was about to burst, at the moment just before the first torch was tossed or punch thrown, Tamika Flynn arrived. And Dana Cardinal was with her.

Tamika stood between the Night Vale mob and the University staff. She made her final offer for a truce. She had the supposed remains of Dana Cardinal (or her double). Tamika agreed to give it over to the University of What It Is. It would be an incredible scientific discovery to prove the existence of doppelgangers. “That’s what you want, right?” Tamika asked. “To make a name for yourself with an unprecedented find?”

Dr. Lubelle did not say yes, but she did not say no, either.

Tamika said that if the remains were of Dana or her double, then Dana would accept justice for her actions. Dana was tired, tired of running from her past, tired of the guilt, tired of the University literally digging up her worst memories. It had all gone too far. And if Dr. Lubelle wanted to study her doppelganger, so be it. But after that, the University of What It Is had to agree to leave Night Vale and never return.

Dr. Lubelle said “show me the body,” and a cadaver pouch on a gurney was rolled over to her. The crowd was quiet but tense, hanging on every word. They felt terrible for Dana, but they were so proud of her heroism, her honesty. Many in this crowd had killed their own doubles 10 years ago, too, but would they sacrifice themselves for this cause? They weren’t certain that they would.

Sheriff Sam took Dana into custody until the remains could be inspected by Dr. Lubelle. It could be days, or weeks, or longer until the study was complete. As the Sheriff’s prowler drove away, so did the crowd dissipate quietly, heads full of anger, sadness, and confusion.

Only Councilmember Flynn and Dr. Lubelle remained. They shook hands, but just as Tamika loosened her grip, Dr. Lubelle squeezed harder and pulled Tamika close.

“You realize,” Dr. Lubelle said, “that if this bodybag has no doppelganger in it, we’re staying. We’re staying indefinitely. We’ll never leave. We’ll explain your librarians, your angels, your dog parks, your houses that don’t exist. We’ll explain everything until you understand Night Vale is just an bland little town full of normalness as far as the eye can see.”

Tamika smiled, a friendly smile full of poison. “No, you won’t. I anticipated you might go back on your promise, so I’ve drafted a city ordinance making the practice of science a felony. We vote on it in two weeks. I already know it will pass unanimously. You have until then to be gone.”

And as Tamika drove away, Dr. Lubelle, all alone on the edge of the desert, bit her lip, and tried to imagine what it must be like to not get what she wants.

Councilmember Flynn, Night Vale, all you listeners out there. I urge you not to take such extreme measures. Yes, I’m biased because my husband Carlos is a scientist. It would ruin him, but it would ruin everything. Science is so… neat. It’s… the best. It’s vital to teach it and practice it. You can’t just outlaw science. Right?

Right?

Stay tuned next for bathwater being thrown out. Among other things.

Good night, Night Vale. Good night.

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PROVERB: Revenge is a dish best served cold. A grilled cheese is a dish best served hot, unless it's a revenge grilled cheese, in which case that also should be cold.