284 - Harrison Kip's Twilight Gospel Hour

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tabletop RPG wherever you get your games. Okay, let's get on to the episode and hey, thanks. What I wanted to tell you, but I didn't find the most of the students. The master by Dark Lab, Tobi, Soft, Handy, Internet, and so on. You can say that you can get the back. You have a story about it, right? But you don't believe it. egal, it's just a challenge. You just do it with this story and if you then work,

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easy to find the real talent for all jobs. Blessings to you all. This is Harrison Kip's Twilight Gospel Hour. Come on in, friend. Well, howdy, y'all. Harrison Kip here. Now, some of you might know me as the adjunct professor of archaeology at the Night Vale Community College.

“Others might know me from my various important archaeological finds out in the desert,”

such as a talism in that raised to sand, gallum, which then attacked the mayor and again. I'm awfully sorry about that. But these days, probably most of you know me as the local volunteer head of my religion's community worship space. I get a lot of questions about that position. Questions such as winter services. Well, that information is on the website, but the general answer is whenever one of us feels moved to enter the trance of mangling,

which is generally Monday's at a PM, or questions such as, "Can I join the services?"

And the answer is, of course, in fact, you may not have a choice, or questions such as,

"What exactly is your religion anyway?" So those are some of the questions I get. Friends, the thing about questions is they are lack elbows. Everyone's got one, and then another one. Everyone has exactly two questions. Oh, hold on. It's 7.15. I got to play the station ID. Uh, okay, here it is. You are listening to Nightfale Community Radio. Support for Nightfale Community Radio comes from Todd Allen Jones.

Yana Chernobylski. The myriad McDonald Memorial Fund. The Society for Goblins. The Mr. Ed simply cannot have been the only talking horse society for horse experimentation. The mark is vanced and found. Oh wait, let me just cross that one out. There we go. The flaky O's Fund for Misinformation. A generous grant from the thing that lives behind the grave stones. Denies. That's like 90% of our funding right there. Oh, they'd be so mad

if they ever found out how much we've stolen from them. The list-rean Fund for Small Desert Town Radio stations. This wallet full of cash I found on the street that we could not figure out

Pamela Winshal and a slip of paper that said if found please return to and then it had Pamela

“Winshal's address. So that could belong to anyone really. The corporation for public broad.”

Oh wait, let me just cross that one out too. The people who like cancer and made it harder to cure cancer closed that one. The Windenberg Coven. The cave that produces one golden coin a day. The woman from Italy. The faceless old woman who secretly lives in your home and has been taking money from you four years and giving it to us. Gorsam the destroyer. A box that if you press the button you get a million dollars and someone you don't know somewhere in the world dies

and baby we hammer that button all day. And of course listeners like you. Unless you're not giving the radio station money in which case listeners who are better than you.

“Man that station ID is long. Now I know the rumors and the gossip have been flying”

a so-called angel was murdered. Went by the name of Erica as all angels do. But unlike the

rest of them never loitered outside the liquor store asking if anyone could spare tin bucks.

And soon enough this angel tired of having the same name as the other angels and living their non-hierarchical lifestyle. And so he started going by Marcus Vanceton again and to move back into his mansion and changed his pronouns back to him although he now was a genderless manifestation of the divine within all of us. And that's when he got curious about what we all over at my religion were up to. So yes Marcus Vanceton made several visits to our worship hall in the weeks

“before his death. And yes there was some talk of a donation although whether it would be called”

generous I guess agreed it disagree on that. Frankly it was stingy by the standards of his fortune and appropriate amount would be something simple like say 70 or 80% of his net worth. But instead

he was only offering like one or two million at most and so yes I did get a bit angry and yes many

of you around town saw me screaming at him really laying into him my face red bit flying out of my mouth and yes I did scream I'll see you dead at him. But I didn't mean it it was a metaphor for me seeing him dead. I didn't even know angels could die tell you the truth. Anyway turns out for legal reasons our worship hall cannot accept donations so that should clear all suspicion from us right up because we cannot directly receive donations directly.

I know it looks bad I'm aware I know it also looks bad that I was loitering outside his mansion an hour before he died but I swear it's only because we were supposed to have a meeting but he refused to see me and I was only holding the big knife because I was on my way to murder someone else in the name of my god but he kept me waiting for so long that I missed that appointment too. Frankly it was a bad day for me and you all asking a lot of questions about it or not making it any

better so just knock it off okay and now it's time for a twilight gospel hour moment of prayer. Oh children of the god that liars beyond the false sky. Oh children of the god who drew the dotted lines and arrows on that atmosphere facade built by lesser gods and tricksters. Oh children of your parents as well don't forget mom and dad or mom and mom or dad and dad or the Pollacule that raised you big shout out to them. Let us bow our heads and classbar hands and

curl our toes and scrunch our noses in that cute way everyone likes. To the eternal creator and destroyer of all life dead living yet to be we say howdy and oh yay for we walk through the valley of the shadow of death and the ridge of unhappiness and the sick

for so long that now we're kind of like whatever. We do not ask much of you except earthly wealth,

“long lives vigor and good health perfect luck and strong and sparkling teeth but other than that”

we ask almost nothing of you so think well of us you who live beyond the false sky. You constantly knock on the firmament demand and to be let in demand and that whatever built that sky yield to you demand and that we destroy the heavens themselves but in the meantime let's just see the cowboys to the Super Bowl next year please we ask so little of you so give us this one thanks. Let's have a word from our sponsors. No the gospel hour has sponsors. Well your darn right and proud of it.

My religion believes that every dollar earned is a thousand more blood cells in your body. I'm not sure of the science on that but the scripture is very clear on this point. However, I am a bit of a top guy in my organization and so I don't usually solely myself with the ad reads. For that I instead bring you div the sentient patch of haze.

“Thanks Harrison. Sounds like you're an important man with an important job.”

Much more important than me. How impressive for you. Any who. Today's Twilight Gas Blower is sponsored by Hotels.com. Books we got this domain very early. We're trying to make the most of it. You see back in the early days of the internet people mostly found things by typing in web addresses. So having something like airplane.com or cute dog photos.com or hotels.com those were really valuable. People had to spend a lot of money for those. We spent a lot of money.

And now people just search stuff on their phones and click the first thing that comes up

or they talk to a chatbot thinking they're getting good prices on a flight to Fiji because the chatbot does not and cannot know anything. And so is making the prices up. A website like Hotels.com just isn't worth what it used to be. And we're deeply underwater on the domain name and we we got some real scary guys. Collinus at all hours of the night describing very imaginative stuff they could do to our knees and we're scared. We don't mind telling you right now we're scared.

We stay up at night thinking about our kids. What are we going to tell them? That we're a failure

“that the person who raised to them is a failure. You think that's what we're going to tell them? No.”

No sir. Not us. Not Hotels that come because you're going to start using us to book all your travel. Alive it. Capiche. Because those guys call on us in the middle of the night they're not the only ones with the imaginations. We can also think of stuff to do to knees like uh hold on. Okay uh like uh hit them I guess uh that's the main one. So uh no funny stuff just use our website book your travel and no one gets hurt. This has been a word from our sponsors.

Back to your important radio program Harrison. Okay sure. Sorry I was in the break room telling all of those fellows named Sean and the station sales department about the good word. The good word is fizz. I love the way it feels in my mouth like a little celebration every time. Oh oh perritioners of the twilight gospel hour there has been another revelation from our god. I was spoken to just now via cell phone

what you think a god can't make use of modern technology. Stone tablets were the cell phones of their day and now any modern god worth their kingdom will text. I will reveal to you the latest message

but first uh him. Dang it you're telling me there is not a single him in this radio station.

The only music I can find in here is choose with horns by the clasmatics and pirate and copy of bono's first solo album Bono belts the blues. Well okay then my guess let's have a

, I use closing the touch with the flow and no shit. It ties in your waters. I'm floating with the

“motion. Drink the trotters around the but patient. We invoked it. Fill the fire light around me. It's the world's frozen”

and so it lasts us by professing the wonderland. So real depictions about it twist it up by the man. If you just want what she begins is what I end. Then let it out so you fill the table. We might see it. Take a taste of a forbidden fruit. Get to know it's just like an interview gave a pause like an in a lube and then she breathed and let the feel get sewn. Kindly just like we're in a tomb here. It's been a we've been it so looking back at the past around it in black flesh. Future looking

“loose and you take the gripping on my bed. Strange in my home for milky but unknown. There ain't no laws”

with no words. So we'd take it all. In a night calling in the answers in my breath. I'm freezing in your temple with my hidden gift of views. But my goddess like you guys got us like in view. I'm gonna see you each other week and soon. What are each other and watches your flowers start to bloom. I drink your body get drunk of your dialing hill your mind. Press the piss of a brooch and explode it from your side.

I hear the quiet singing loud and he's your morning wine. So it is just got about a bottle as you grab a ride. Wrap your around my flesh. Feel my tongue to get something in your deep in my bed. Take it in to my chest. Existing close and pain got my mind feeling the world to crash your ride as long as you would not breathe in. The night calls night calls night calls night calls for you for you.

So echo, let the soul take over you. Over you. The night calls night calls night calls night calls for you for you.

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Well, time has come, children. It is time for me to read the latest revelation from our god. Shoot! It's 8 now. I got to play the rest of that station ID. The Smithwick Foundation, a generous grant from a vague yet menacing government agency.

The dragons of the deep. Thanks guys. A sack of gold I found out in the desert and never told

So money I took from Marcus Vensen's house after he died. He's not going to miss it.

“The National Community Radio Fund, the Hanto Carr Worship Committee. The good folks at the”

Shrieking Elm's Retirement Home. I understand they held a big sale. Oh, no, I misread that. It was a bank sale. They were the joint owners of the last bank of nightfail and they felt it was time to move their assets around. Man, the older generations are rich. The Carlisle Arts Foundation. The Carlisle Arts Foundation started by the other Carlisle

sister. Their slogan, "The Arts Foundation that isn't abroad founded by a clown." And of course,

listeners like you. Don't worry, you're included now too. The nice folks at the Shrieking Elms

“helped us take it out of your accounts without you even having to lift a finger.”

Geez, these station IDs get longer every year. Also, he'd better not be talking about my bank account. I do not look kindly on anyone messing with my religion's money. I do not look kindly on that at all. Anyway, let's get to the divine revelation. The revelation starts with the emoji of the son wherein sunglasses, and then one of a ballerina covering her face and shame, then one of an apple with a soft spot. I guess our God has recently figured out emojis.

We can argue how to interpret those later. Then he gave us a list of new rules and prophecies.

“Rule 1. You can try to have other gods before me, but you're gonna look real silly when I destroy”

all the other gods, and you are busy following one of the losers. Rule 2. No forks. Can't say why I just stop using forks. Rule 3. Also Mason jars as water glasses. Knock that off. The fourth revelation from our god says, I require about a gallon of eye fluids. Now obviously, this can't come from just one of you. I'm hoping you all can squeeze out a little bit of each of your eye fluids without too much harm until you have a gallon of it, but I do need that fluid

pronto. In item number 5, our god says, I wish I could show you what is beyond the sky. If you cracked open the firmament, you would see a depth of terror. It would be so beautiful, spinning galaxies, and all of the galaxies are screaming. Plan, it's made of fire, full of people, made of fire, and everyone feels the fire, and it burns all the time. Nebulas of pain. Black holes that will someday devour everything you love. An alternate version of Earth that is somehow just a

little bit worse than this one. A spaceship that launched a thousand years ago, and it has a thousand more years of travel ahead of it, and every one aboard is dead, and every one at their destination is dead, but the spaceship flies dumbly on, following instructions and coded into the physical structure of its circuits. Instructions it could not disobey any more than its dead passengers could rise again and speak. There is so much out here, and they are keeping it from you with that false sky.

Number 6, Blood Mudder Spuds, nobody rides for free, and finally our god's 7th rule. Those who cross me, who disobey my edicts, who reject my power, who wander down different paths, who refuse my light, and especially all of those who promise my church money, and then do not give that money, they will surely perish from this Earth real quick, due to being killed by one of my guys. So keep that in mind. Some wise points from our god. You know, a god is kind of like a

good horse, they are both incapable of vomiting. My grandfather always used to tell me that,

when he spoke to me from the vent in my bedroom. My grandfather died before I was born,

Reminded me that I wasn't alone, no my grandfather was with me in the walls in the vents,

“in the darkest hours of the night. Now listen to me, rambling on.”

I suppose it's time to shut things down here at the twilight gospel hour. We are well past civil twilight, and soon we'll be past noticle twilight too, and then it'll only be us, and the stars, those false lights on that fake sky. Stay tuned next for some other show. I don't pay attention to what else broadcasts at this station. None of my business, I'm sure. Good twilight night,

veil. Good twilight. Welcome to Night Vale as a production of Night Vale presents.

It is written by Joseph Think, Jeffrey Craner, and Brie Williams, sound design, and production by disparition. The voice of Harrison Kip that is Jeffrey Craner, the voice of Deb, is Meg Bashwinner. The voice of Night Vale is Cecil Baldwin, original music by disparition. All of it can be found at disparition.net. This episode's weather is night calling, by who is Raphael Laro, produced by Petra Corps, find out more at the link in our show notes.

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hang a new email from your friends over at Welcome Tonight Mail. Today's proverb, "If I had a nickel for every time, I heard, and if I had a nickel joke, I'd probably have around 100 nickels, which is more change than I would want to have." Hi, this is Rob Benedict, and I am Richard Spate. We were both on a little show you might know called Supernatural. It had a pretty good run, 15 seasons, 327 episodes,

and though we have seen, of course, every episode many times, we figured, hey, now that we're wrapped, let's watch it all again. And we can't do that alone, so we're inviting the cast and crew that made the show along for the ride. We've got writers, producers, composers, directors, and we'll of course have some actors on as well, including some certain guys that played some certain pretty iconic brothers. It was kind of a little bit of a left-field choice

“in the best way possible. The note from Cripkey was, "He's great, we love him, but we're looking”

for like a really intelligent, decoveny type." With 15 seasons to explore, it's going to be the road trip of several lifetimes. So please join us and subscribe to Supernatural, then, and now. Hi, I'm here to tell you about Good Morning Night Vale. Welcome to Night Vale's official recap show and unofficial best-friend food podcast. Join me, Meg Bashwinner, and fellow tri-hosts, Hal Lublin, and Symphony Sanders, as we dissect all of the cool, squishy, and slimey

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