One person’s trash is another person’s treasure. Especially if the second person is a raccoon or a rat or just has a really low bar for treasure.

Welcome to Night Vale.

The Sanitation Department is hosting the first ever Night Vale Regional Swap Meet this weekend. Everyone in the Greater Night Vale Area, including residents of Pine Cliff, Red Mesa, and Cactus Park, are invited to bring their unwanted items to the county fairgrounds for two glorious days full of bargains, exchanges, deals, and fun in the sun.

If you’ve never been out to the fairgrounds before, which would be understandable given that we’ve never had a county fair, it’s an easy twenty-minute drive north of wherever you are right now. A little oasis in the heart of the desert, surrounded by towering hills of dirt and agave plants. Just drive until you see the billboard that says “World’s Biggest Asphalt Lot”.

Not sure how verified that claim is, but I think the rule is that if you make any superlative declaration, it’s true until someone proves otherwise.

You’ll then see miles of blacktop stretching across the valley floor.

“So this is the county fairgrounds, huh,” you might say to yourself. “Where are the rides and games and deep fried locusts?”

But the Parks Department would like me to remind our listeners that fairgrounds only represent the potential of a thing, not the thing itself. Like an empty bank account or a spicy text message, it’s what you put into it afterward that makes the difference. They would like me to remind you that intention isn’t even remotely the same thing as action. They would like to apologize for delivering this harsh truth to you, but they’re also pretty sure you needed to hear it right now, didn’t you? So additionally, you’re welcome.

As you may recall, the Sanitation Department has strict guidelines for what is and is not allowed at the landfill facility. The landfill facility does not accept physical objects. The landfill facility only accepts non-physical waste such as memories, ideas, relationships, behavior, thoughts, and regrets.

The county fairgrounds, however, are not the landfill facility. The county fairgrounds are a godless land where chaos reigns supreme. In order to respect the sovereign anarchy of the fairgrounds, the Sanitation Department has a more general guide to share for this weekend’s Swap Meet, less about rules and more about how to make good swaps. Bad swaps can be disastrous for all involved, and the Sanitation Department, as always, is here to help you to purge and acquire responsibly.

But first, movie reviews.

Carlos and I took Esteban to the cineplex last weekend to see the new documentary When a Stranger Calls, all about the famous duel between Thomas Edison and Alexander Graham Bell that resulted in the invention of the telephone. Esteban was riveted and even did a little popsicle stick diorama of the murder scene when we got home. But he also had a lot of questions for us about what a telephone is. As you can imagine, some of those questions were tough to answer, but Carlos and I sat him down and did the best we could. It’s a discussion that every family has to have at some point. And I’m proud to say we were able to provide Esteban with factual, non-sensationalized information about landlines, rotary dials, star codes, and answering machines. I highly recommend this movie if you’re looking for a way to open the door on having this difficult conversation with your loved ones.

Now, traffic.

Mikayla Sanborn loved cars. Specifically, she loved engines. There was nothing more fascinating to her than mechanical energy. She owned a successful garage downtown for many years—until the day she received a special delivery letter requesting an interview for a job that could not be named in a location that could not be disclosed.

Mikayla took the interview and was hired, all without knowing what the job actually was. She soon found herself living in a cavern underneath a warehouse filled with glowing crates, working on something referred to only as the Machine. She worked on the Machine day and night. She grew to both love and hate the Machine. At times, she questioned the ethics of what she and the other mechanics were doing. But she never said anything out loud. Until she met Rae.

Rae had questions about what they were doing too, and they found themselves whispering together behind closed doors when the others were asleep. Their concerns about the Machine grew until they couldn’t stand by any longer. Over time, they persuaded others to join their cause. The mechanics greatly outnumbered the overseers, after all—and the mechanics were the only ones who understood how the Machine really worked.

After the sabotage, Mikayla, Rae, and the other survivors returned to the surface and tried to live normal lives. They never told anyone about what happened down there. Or what might have happened if they had not intervened.

Besides Rae, Mikayla Sanborn’s greatest love was her chrome and purple Hummer with the spinner rims and solid gold bulldog hood ornament. She never stopped driving it, even after she was too old to remember her own name.

In lieu of a casket, Ms. Sanborn will be interred in her beloved purple Hummer at Rattlesnake Rest cemetery this Sunday, following a private memorial service. She was 94.

This has been traffic.

Sorry, my bad!

This has been obituaries. Traffic coming up later.

Now, we return to the Sanitation Department’s guide for this weekend’s upcoming Swap Meet.

The most important thing to remember is: no money is allowed at the Swap Meet. This weekend is for swaps ONLY. And to answer the first three questions that just popped into your mind: Yes, there will be a hot dog vendor. No, they will not be accepting money. Yes, they will be requiring payment.

If you are caught bringing money into the Swap Meet, even loose change in your pockets or a good luck penny or a leftover Euro from your 2022 vacation to Luftnarp or dolphin teeth from the Solomon Islands, it’s an automatic detention. And if you’ve never been sent to Swap Meet Detention, trust me. You do not want to.

If the following sounds familiar to you, yes, these are direct quotes from the Sanitation Department’s monthly newsletter called “Junk Mail”.

Let’s check out their Frequently Asked Questions section.

Question: What makes a good swap?

Some of the best swaps include things that can be traded straight across, one thing for a conceptually equal but substantively different thing. Think: souls, bodies, contact info if you think someone’s cute and they think you’re cute, the memory of your all-time worst birthday in exchange for the memory of someone else’s all-time worst birthday, power dynamics, Meyers-Briggs personality types, or jelly jars filled with matter of some kind.

Question: What makes a bad swap?

Some of the worst swaps include things that bring you more joy and excitement than you’ve felt in a long time. For example, something that feels so alarmingly good, so right, that you’re immediately suspicious of it. But you push the suspicion aside because that’s self-sabotage, that’s what your therapist would say. Or at least, that’s what your friend who’s been to a lot of therapy and gives you free advice because you can’t afford an actual therapist would say. She’s right, you think. I’m going to stop second-guessing everything. I’m going to live in the moment and accept that I deserve good things. No. That I deserve great things.

Until you realize the universe is not random. It’s a fair and balanced place. The pendulum swings both ways. However good you’re currently feeling—that’s the intensity of pain coming your way, my friend. If you make a swap like this, a swap you didn’t even know you were making in the first place, god help you. The Sanitation Department certainly can’t. The universe won’t. Check yourself before you wreck yourself, that’s all we’re saying. If you start to feel something suspiciously good happening in your life, we recommend you drop it off at the landfill facility immediately before things get out of hand.

Question: What is a Faustian deal and is it a good idea to make one?

A Faustian deal involves making short term gains at the expense of long term loss. Some examples include: receiving musical talent in exchange for eternal damnation, eating fruit in exchange for being ashamed of your body, personal financial wealth in exchange for mass existential destruction, cancer cells replicating until they no longer have a place to live, being mean to one of your closest friends so the popular kids will think you’re cool, drinking delicious unpasteurized orange juice that’s gone a bit fizzy, choosing a life of art over making money, choosing a life of money over making art, all manner of euphoria-inducing toxins, zip-lining into shark-infested waters, and telling someone how you really feel about them.

Deals like this are generally considered safe.

If you’re interested in making a Faustian deal this weekend, be sure to visit the group of demons who will be tailgating near the display of fleece blankets with images of galloping stallions and flaming skulls on them. Right next to the table of stereo components and unauthorized celebrity biographies. Behind the tent with wigs, laser discs, and beer helmets. Kitty-corner to the classic car meetup spot. Where people are just hanging around in their classic cars for some reason. Just sitting there, sometimes turning the engines or radios on, but usually staring straight ahead in silence with the windows rolled up. Sometimes nodding to each other. Never speaking. Definitely waiting for something.

Now, traffic.

Steve was trying to give his stepdaughter Janice a driving lesson, and it was not going well. For one thing, his ‘76 Dodge Dart was not equipped to support her spina bifida-related needs. She had trouble with the foot pedals, and that was frustrating to her. And probably not the safest, though they were just practicing out in the Sand Wastes, one of the emptiest places in Night Vale in terms of its void-to-substance ratio. All Janice wanted lately was to drive, to gain a little more independence, but Steve was starting to realize they really needed to get a better car, one with modifications. Hand controls so she wouldn’t have to deal with the foot pedals. A rotating driver’s seat to make the wheelchair transfer easier. But his job at the bank wasn’t paying enough for those things, even though he was their best employee. In fact, they lowered his salary by ten percent every year because he was their best employee—“best” meaning least likely to complain. Something has to change, he thought to himself with determination as Janice put the car in park and looked at him like she was ready to give up.

This has been traffic.

Back to tips and tricks from the Sanitation Department for this weekend’s Swap Meet.

Now that we’ve covered the general guidelines, it’s time to get specific. Let’s talk about you. Unlike your usual dump runs to the landfill facility, this is a chance to not just purge an unwanted item but to get something for it in return. So think hard. And think big. What’s something you’re dying to get rid of that may actually have value to another person?

And as a reminder, since the fairgrounds cannot be governed by the rules of the Sanitation Department, all non-physical and physical items are welcome. This is your opportunity to swap houses, crushes, wood chippers, the gym membership you’ve never used, and points of view on the world today—with the exception of the opinion that things are headed in the wrong direction and that we need change, because everyone already has that belief.

If you’re dissatisfied with something like your job or your marriage, you do not have to merely swap the feeling of dissatisfaction—for this weekend only, you can swap the entire job or marriage itself, provided all parties agree. An Arby’s assistant manager position can be traded for a career as a big game hunter or surgeon. A husband named Arnold can be traded for a husband called Mark. A husband called Mark could be swapped for a gently used kitchen appliance. A toaster oven might be traded for the memory of a romantic road trip through Croatia. A kiss shared during a thunderstorm along the Adriatic coast could be bartered for an irregular Guns N Roses concert tee, or a pipe carved out of soapstone, or a hot dog with mustard and sauerkraut over at the food vendor pod.

A feeling of overwhelming inadequacy can be turned into one of powerful confidence—again, if both possessors of these qualities agree to the trade. But you may be surprised to learn that trades like this are not uncommon. You think everyone who walks through life feeling beautiful, smart, and talented is just content with that unshakable sense of self-assurance? No. They want to be stopped. Deep down, they’re dying to be stopped. Now’s your chance. Now’s their chance.

Because this event isn’t just about getting rid of things. It’s about transformation.

With that in mind, the Sanitation Department recommends that you stop whatever you’re doing and start looking through your closets, your basement, your skull, your soul, your deepest fears and desires, and your storage unit on Somerset to figure out what you’ll be bringing to the Swap Meet.

It may be one of the most important decisions of your life.

While you figure that out, let’s go to the weather.

[WEATHER]

Listeners, I for one am really looking forward to heading out to the fairgrounds this weekend. I love swap meets. Haven’t been to one since I was a teenager, whenever that was. It’s kind of hazy, but I remember clouds of dust. Cut-off jean shorts. Tents. Crumbling statues of demigods. Floating orbs. Disembodied voices. A cloaked figure telling me that I had to make an important choice, and that once I made it, I wouldn’t remember anything from before. Only the new memories and the future would be mine. That’s probably why it’s hazy. But whatever I ended up trading that day, I remember getting an awesome switchblade comb and a mirror-painting of Mephistopheles wearing sunglasses and riding a surfboard.

The comb wasn’t actually useful, but it made me look cool and that was important to me at the time. I’d just transferred to a new school and wanted to make an impression. And it worked! Got a lot of compliments on that comb. Almost too many? Then I was elected class president even though no one knew who I was. Started getting all As, even though I didn’t do my homework. Lettered in track. Dated the captain of the football team. Had a real popularity streak there for a while. Until I lost that comb. Then things really went downhill. Got impeached, put in remedial math, couldn’t get a date. Of course [nervous laugh] none of that had to do with a silly comb, obviously.

Anyway, can’t wait to see everyone out at the fairgrounds, hawking their wares. And wearing their hawks, if we have any falconers among us. See you all this weekend!

Stay tuned for the shining wall of black granite where your house used to be.

Goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight.