Y'all, it is Jeffrey Craneer from Welcome to Nightville, and I'm here to tell...
my co-writers, Josephic, Brie Williams and I, we have Britain, a brand new audio drama.
And you're thinking, "Well, these guys created Welcome to Nightville. I know what this is going to be like, and you're right. We wrote a straight-up normal world romance. It is called this will ruin the tour. It's set in a single day in New Orleans as a young writer, interviews a middle-aged pop superstar.
If you are a fan of, before sunrise, Roman Holiday, or the musical ones, I think you will love this will ruin the tour. It's going to be available wherever you get your audio books on October 26th, 2026, pre-order this thing right now.
“Remember that really helps writers a whole bunch.”
Pre-order this thing, and you'll have a romantic Halloween treat waiting for you next month. You can learn more at Welcome to Nightville.com and click on books to go get this will ruin the tour. I'm so excited.
Oh, and if you like books, Joseph thinks Horan Ovella the Nudge is already out, and it's an awesome read for the spooky season. And if you're in California, you can go see Joseph live at one of his book signing/reetings this month. He'll be at bookshop Santa Cruz on the 28th and booksmith in San Francisco on the 29th.
Finally, why don't you smell more like Nightville?
Why don't you go get our signature scent?
“It's called Mostly Void, Partially Stars, and it is created by the amazing people over”
at Sukrabil. And I'm not kidding when I tell you this thing smells like a cool night in the desert, sage, sand, eucalyptus, it is very clean. I put a link in our show notes to go get the scent, Mostly Void Partially Stars. That link is in the show notes are most recent episode 294.
So go get Mostly Void Partially Stars through that show notes link or just go to our website Welcome to Nightville.com. You can get any and all other Nightville merch at welcome to Nightville.com. You click on the store. We've got really cool t-shirts this month, say work weird, play weird, and everything else
from mugs to calendars to blankets to shorts that say creepy on the bud. Go do all of that, and hey, thanks. Home is where the heart is. You can hear it beating as you approach the front door. Blood pumps freely out the windows.
The Aorta is in the attic. Welcome to Nightville. It's good to be back listeners. Feels like it's been forever, so much has changed in the last few months. Not here in town, the things are exactly the same, even down to the half-eaten egg-salad
sandwich I left on my desk Delicious, but a lot has changed for me. I'm sure many of you are wondering where I've been for the last few months. It's a hard question to answer. Through darkness, I have seen things. Through silence, I have heard things.
Through emptiness, I have found substance. I've been on a journey inside of myself questioning everything I thought I knew. I've been behind the sky, specifically to a really nice mountain cabin retreat behind the sky.
“Did you know that there are mountains behind the sky?”
There are tons of them, and this one has a lake and a ski lift, and it was super quiet out there because there are no birds. Birds can only live inside the sky and will die instantly if they get behind it, which happens sometimes and isn't the most fun thing to watch. But if you hang strands of paracord evenly spaced at two inch intervals along the back
of the sky, it does help prevent avian deaths.
And I was required to do this for eight hours a day when I first arrived.
But let me back up. You may recall that right after I broke the story about Marcus Vanceden being killed by God for the sin of promising money to Harrison Kipps religion, I had a visitor in my studio, an entity we know as Harrison Kipps God. The God's name is Dale, and Dale had recently torn through the sky and entered the streets
of our town, a man with a face that flickers like a television screen who stood on the
Ceiling and reached out for me.
That was the last you heard from me, listeners, but for me, it was only the beginning.
More on that, after the headlines. In political news, election season is heating up. If you're anything like me, you find it easy to get overwhelmed by voter handbooks, full of dense, contradictory propaganda.
“To make things easier, I've compiled a primer on some of the most important measures”
and candidates. Measure 27. Ban on cake walks.
This is proposed safety legislation to make it illegal to use cake walks as a fundraising
activity because of that one time at the community center when an unfortunate combination of yelling random numbers and playing music and marching backwards in a circle accidentally summoned a demon. For those who survived that night, I'm sure yes vote is a no-brainer. For those who were possessed that night, I'm guessing, you're voting no.
This is an addendum to the existing legislation that bands hopscotch bingo and musical chairs for the same reason.
“There are a record number of candidates this year for the coveted municipal position that”
oversees the rodeo, literally, by watching it from really high up and wearing an Urmine cape and waving a scepter to declare the winners. There's Larry Lee Roy, out on the edge of town, whose qualifications include having had a horse. It wasn't his horse, more of a pet sitting gig, but he says he got a lot out of it.
There's Shifty Carter, an old cowboy ghost who normally resides at rattlesnake rest, cemetery but gets one day a year to travel outside the graveyard, as long as it's within city limits. And this is what he wants to do with that time. And there's Missy Wilkes from Kessler Street, who once shot a man. And because of that, believes she possesses the necessary grit and western spirit to perform
the job.
“Whew, it's a tough decision, and you really just have to go with your gut on this one.”
However, the teacher's union has endorsed Missy Wilkes. Looks like there's a lot more to get through on the ballot, so I'll continue breaking down these hot button political issues as election season continues. Now back to what I did on my summer vacation. Ah, I guess I can't quite call it a vacation, since I was technically abducted and held
against my will. But Dale told me many times that I was his guest and not his captive. And I did water ski at one point, so it's a bit of a grey area. The place I was brought to is known as the cleansing grove, and it's located between the false sky and the realm beyond like a layer of cream filling between wafer cookies.
If one wafer is a flat facade and the other is incomprehensible infinity. Dale said I wasn't ready to see the realm beyond because the beauty of it would be so overwhelming that I would instantly claw my own eyes out. He told me I would be safe and happy in the cleansing grove. And that if I followed his divine revelations, I would be allowed to text my family on his
burner phone once a week to let them know how safe and happy I was. I told him that's under fair and he was well pleased. All guests of the cleansing grove must first undergo a personal development workshop led by Dale, called "Finding the Real You Within" by crawling inside your own mouth. It was a lot more physical than I anticipated and really pushed my boundaries of comfort
but luckily I didn't have to go too far inside. The real me was in fact located about halfway down my esophagus. It was soft and small and colourless, like a like a wad of well-tuned gum.
And within it, I witnessed the most essential core of my being.
More on that, after today's word "jumble".
The following five words will, when their letters are rearranged, produce a simple phrase
we all know well. Get your pens and paper out. Here are this week's words. Giraffe Thalance
Unfathomable Blustery Miracle
“Reassemble the letters of those words into a common phrase.”
You won't win anything but you'll feel a short burst of self-satisfaction.
The answer to last week's "jumble" was the common idiom. In the indifference of nature, the life of man is valued no higher than the badger or the dandelion. Human kind has become a disease of rapidly dividing cells destroying its host, but it can only succeed as far as its own destruction.
The host will recover and move on. The fate of the badgers and the dandelions remains to be seen. Good luck Now back to the most transformative summer of my life. Aside from August 2011, when the moonlight all night diner was offering all you can eat
“Nutella banana crates for a dollar, I learned a lot about myself then too, about my limits”
and what I'm capable of. But that's another story. When I was behind the sky, confronted with the gummy wad of my eternal essence, I was surprised to find that it contained only one thing, a small transmitting device. It beeped and flashed and appeared to be sending and receiving signals constantly.
First I was alarmed, I thought someone had bugged my core that my inner most self was
being surveilled, that my very soul was being tracked by unknown watchers for sinister purposes, which yes, maybe true. But through intense self-examination I came to realize that the transmitter, while definitely physical and real, is also a symbol of who I am. And that's the more important thing to focus on.
I am a communicator.
“My purpose in life is to receive and interpret and relay information.”
Once I correctly deciphered this personal revelation from Dale, I was rewarded with fun activities like lying around alone on the dark silent beach. There's no wind in the cleansing grove, which adds to the extreme quiet, and there's no sun or moon either, so it's pitch black all the time, super relaxing. Part of the lifestyle there is being removed from all stimulus, so that you start to wonder
if you even have a body or if your thoughts are your own, or if time is real. This makes you open to receiving Dale's more extreme revelations when the time comes. Oh, one day an envelope blew down the beach toward me. As I said earlier, there's no wind, so that told me the message was supernatural and important. The envelope had a wax seal featuring some kind of cloud and wings design, which I later
found out was the logo of the vape shop that Dale owns out in Red Mesa. Inside was an invitation, which said, "The time has come." Before I get to that, let's check in with traffic. There are new pavement markings at the intersection of Earl and Desert Elm Drive. These are not the typical stop lines or directional arrows or inverted pentagrams of the
transportation department, but Puffy Red Welts rising from the surface of the asphalt. Some have erupted into fluid-filled boils, while others more closely resemble a scattering of hives or pucks. The nightville medical board has agreed that this is most likely an allergy reaction or a stress response.
It may be a performance anxiety due to a rerouting of the elementary school pickup line that has caused an increase in activity through the intersection on weekday afternoons. It might have to do with loose pet hair coming from the groomers on the southwest corner who recently switched to an air conditioning unit that blows exhaust into the street. Or, it could be some personal issue going on at the intersection that's none of our business.
As psychologists Carl Young said, one can use an intersection every day, but ...
truly know an intersection.
“Please refrain from driving through it to four five to seven days to prevent further irritation.”
It will most likely clear up on its own. Now back to my time at the Cleansing Grove. The invitation I received contained instructions to meet Dale in his office of devout righteousness, which is a freestanding room out in the middle of the lake. It kind of drifts around, so I'd swim in circles for a while to find it, flailing out
in the darkness with my arms and legs until I finally hit something solid.
At first, I wasn't sure how to enter since it's a floating cube with no doors. Then realized I could dive down underneath.
“There's no floor or ceiling in Dale's office, only the skyless sky above and the murky”
water below. Dale was inside waiting for me, hovering in the air with his arms folded and his face flickering. He was no furniture except for a bobbing desk with a skull on it. Almost human, but not quite. I treaded water and complimented him on his massive collection of velvet paintings of animals
and clowns, which covered every inch of the interior walls. Then Dale delivered his new revelations to me.
The first one was that all other gods are out of touch with humanity and he is the one
true god of the people.
“Most gods are nephogods, he explained, they come from a long line of deities and become”
gods through birthright and divine succession. Dale, however, was once a mortal man. He attended a rigorous religious studies program and bootstrapped his way to god status through years of hard work and education. He showed me his diploma, a blood soaked hide hanging on the wall between a velvet juggling
harloquin and a velvet hammerhead shark with sunglasses.
The second revelation was that a full blown apocalypse is eminent.
There is a great turmoil brewing between the gods in night veil right now and low. It will not end well. He doesn't like to be an alarmist because he considers himself a pretty laid-back eye, as far as god's go, but he is 100% positive about this one. Both because he has a deep knowledge of apocalyptic history, which he minored in, and also
because of the visions he's been having, unspeakable visions that he spoke about had great length and in horrific detail. More on that in a moment. First the weather. Black waves rolling, dunk it in any scene, make us tankin' foul within, is this how it all begins.
Undounted by the wind, howling in the lane and night, picking teeth with children's bones and feeding on man's ground, no footprints on the grass, long fingers in the dark, and all the roses in the park were with it as it passed. So from the bride drawn to the land by lustful blood, or Satan's hand, the silent assassin in every slain still looks in the shadows at the end of the lane.
Black god and the ICD, draws breath from selling the sky, the people between we, not even ask you why.
Free the shadows pass you over, chill both and steal the heart, if one stop w...
fall, but all is for God, or Satan's hand, the silent assassin in every slain still
“looks in the shadows at the end of the lane.”
So, that's it. The biggest advantage of shopping for me is that we don't need any technical support, we can all go back to the front and go back to the front and go back to the front. Now, back to Dale's apocalyptic visions.
First he said everyone in town will start singing the same song and won't be able to stop.
The singing will be constant and forever, and each day a little louder than the day before.
“He isn't sure what the song will be yet, but man, no matter what it is, it's going to”
get real annoying real quick. Then the sun will turn into a lava lamp and the water will turn to milk, rivers, oceans, ocean faucets, all water, milk will be drinking only milk, boiling our pasta in it, washing our clothes in it, bathing in it, watering our lawns with it. Next comes the plague of lemurs.
That will be cute at first, but a plague of anything is no picnic, except of lemurs.
They will be feasting on everything in sight from crops to items in the grocery stores to the food in our houses. This will be followed by a plague of locusts, but that will be too bad because the lemurs will also eat the locusts, so that one's kind of cancels out. Then the dead will rise from their graves and be hanging around everywhere, grunting and
smelling bad, which will be gross. The stars will cry, you won't see it, but you'll hear it.
And finally, the trees will vomit, like any time, and without warning.
You could be going for a walk around the block and suddenly, from way up high, a tree will just unload all over you. At this point, Dale stopped speaking to me in words, but as I stared into his flickering face, I saw the vision play out in my mind as real as if I was standing there. What I observed was truly a nightmare, especially the tree vomit part.
You'd think it would be like earthy, like dirt or mulch or something, but look, man, I don't know what the trees are eating, y'all, but let's just say they're much more omnivorous than you think. I know there are a lot of doomsday gods out there, Dale said, and I know they have plenty
“of followers, though I honestly think a lot of those are bots and click farms, but that's”
not what I'm trying to do. I'm out here trying to prevent doomsday, I know that makes me a little controversial, in addition to all the blood sacrifices my congregation makes at my direct behest, but I really
Do have the best interests of the citizens of Night Vale at heart, and you're...
one who can help me, Cecil.
“And he told me the third and final revelation, and set me home, armed with a doomsday prevention”
strategy that I'll get into with everyone very soon. For now, all I want to do is hug my family, and take a nap. It's good to be back with you all, in the brightness and noise of the world below the false sky. Stay tuned for two roads diverging ahead of you.
One leads to a life of happiness, the other, to misery, and death.
They look identical, kind of a coin-flip thing, good luck, and good night, Night Vale, good night.
“Welcome to Night Vale as a production of Night Vale Presents, it is written by Joseph”
Think, Jeffrey Craner, and Bree Williams, sound design, and production by Disparition. The voice of Night Vale is Cecil Baldwin, original music by Disparition. All that can be found at disparition.net.
This episode's weather was "End of the Lane" by murdered by pirates.
Find out more at the link in our show notes. Onments, questions, email us at info@welcome to Night Vale.com, or follow us on Blue Sky at Night Vale Radio, or on Instagram, Tumblr, and TikTok at Night Vale official, or zip-it. No one likes a snitch. But mainly, check out Welcome to Night Vale.com, where we have a twice monthly mailing
“list that is the best way to keep up to date directly from us to you.”
There are even recommendations from Joseph and Jeffrey about things they are loving that month in each newsletter. So check them out. Speaking of which, if you are able to, please support us on Patreon. There is a Night Vale book club, hangouts with Jeffrey and Joseph, bonus episodes, but mostly
the fact that this show could not be made without you. Also please buy Joseph's novel, The Nudge. Out right now, wherever you buy or summon books. It's available in audiobook, performed by Cecil Baldwin and Kevin R. Free, or in hardcover with creepy illustrations by Jessica Hayworth.
There's no wrong answer. Today's proverb, "Where there's a will, there's a way to get your name in there and collect some inheritance." Hello everyone, I would like to thank you for accepting the offer position for the examination.
I repair expedition out to Alpost Freestet. "My God, are you feeling this? Can I hear it? "Fuck, and go do it then, if we can leave, we need to get moving." It's not advised.
The white vault, available for free, however you listen to podcasts.
