Welcome to Night Vale - 106 - Filings

Episode Date: April 15, 2017

The angels go to the Hall of Public Records. The voice of the Faceless Old Woman was Mara Wilson. Weather: "All or Nothing" by The Dream Masons facebook.com/thedreammasons Music: Disparition, disparition.info. Logo: Rob Wilson, robwilsonwork.com. Produced by Night Vale Presents. Written by Joseph Fink & Jeffrey Cranor. Narrated by Cecil Baldwin. More Info: welcometonightvale.com, and follow @NightValeRadio on Twitter or Facebook. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Howdy y'all. It is Jeffrey Craneer. I'm not sure which episode of Welcome to Nightville you're listening to, but I am speaking to you from April of 2026. And I'm here to tell you we're going to be in Europe. If you want to see Nightville live and you're going to be in Europe, come check us out at the end of May. We're going to be in Edinburgh on May the 27th. We will be in Manchester on the 28th, London on the 29th, and Amsterdam on May the 30th. Just go to Welcome to Nightville.com slash live to see the show dates and to get your tickets. This is. our newest Nightville live show Murder Night in Blood Forest. It is so much fun. Please come check it out. Also, coming up this month here in April, it is the return of Alice Isn't Dead, brand new episodes of our other crazy hit podcast. This is written by Joseph Fink, produced and with music by Dysperition and starring Jacique and Nicole. So make sure you are still subscribed to Alice Isn't Dead and go get those on April the 13th as new episodes come out. Finally, speaking of other shows, do you want to hear us talk about other things? things. We have three other really great chat shows. First of all, there's Good Morning Nightvale for all of your Nightvale needs. You can hear Hal, Meg, and Symphony talk about every single

episode in order of Welcome to Nightvale. Also, we have Random Horror Number Nine. That is me and Nightville star Cecil Baldwin talking about horror movies one at a time in a random order. And then Joseph and Meg do best, worst, which is a really fun podcast where they look at hit TV shows and they review the best rated on IMDB, the worst rated on IMDB, and if you're a Patreon member, they will review the middlest rated on IMDB. So check out all of those at nightfallpresents.com or just wherever you get your podcast. And hey, thanks. Why do birds suddenly appear every time you are near? Tell me more about your special bird powers. Welcome to Nightvehapen. It's been a long couple of weeks, as the citywide emergency sirens that signal illegal public

acknowledgement of angels have been blaring almost non-stop. But, in spite of these archaic laws, I've been shouting, you're an angel at beings who look like angels and then making my most friendly finger-pointing gesture. The beings who call themselves angels, because that's what they are, have begun filing the paperwork for official existence. The Angels are still at the Hall of Public Records downtown waiting in line. They have made it to the front of the line three different times, but each time they were told they were missing a key form of ID or pre-application paperwork

or that the cameras could not record their image. They weren't told this using words. The Records Hall Clerk just stabbed their paperwork repeatedly with scissors, and then got a massive nosebleed, which is how they know their application was declined. Other citizens, waiting, have grown restless. As they do not acknowledge the existence of angels, the next person in line keeps walking up to a seemingly empty window

only to be brushed away by a clerk or an angel. These citizens have begun shouting and grumbling and curling into little balls and sobbing as large glowing cracks appear in the ceiling. It's been several days of waiting in line for the angels. We'll check back in on them soon. Oh, I have a new intern, listeners. He's a fine-looking young man with a beautiful voice.

I think he'll have a great future in radio. I've been trying to ask him his name, or who hired him. I certainly don't remember beginning the search for a new intern. He just appeared this morning and started working without a single word, which is the most professional behavior for anyone beginning a new job. Well, he seems hard at work. Even if every time I address him, he doesn't notice me. It's great having a competent replacement for Kareem.

Even if I have no idea how this new intern got here or who he is, as long as the filing is getting done. Alondra Ortiz, daughter of Joseph Fri, Fina Ortiz, who passed away last month, has carried on her fight against the angels. The angels are claiming ownership of old woman Josie's estate, since they live with her and helped her build the many artistic monuments and cultural foundations around town. Alondra said she doesn't care if angels are acknowledged or not. If they want to be recognized, fine.

But Alondra and her lawyer, Emilio Tavarez, have filed motions to be acknowledged to be. to maintain ownership of Alondra's mother's home, belongings, money, and memories. Just because a bunch of imaginary tall people with wings helped Josie change the light bulbs from time to time, Tavares said. That's no reason they are considered next of kin. Tavarez told Judge Chavon Azdak, if they don't exist, you must get kissed. Judge Asdak replied, Amelio, it's been four years. I'm remarried. We're done, okay? The angels have hired five-headed dragon Miriam Adelman as their counsel,

who issued a literally scathing response. Alondra is now suing Adelman and her team for medical bills resulting from second-degree burns. Alondra has already put Josie's home up for sale. She is willing to offer rebates for pre-existing damage, such as a serious, of large, glowing slits in the walls that lead to rooms that aren't possible, according to the official floor plan, nor the laws of physics. These rooms range from a 17th century ballroom to a crow's nest on a modern Navy destroyer to the space shuttle.

Plus, anachronistic people keep wandering in and out of these portals. She added, on second thought, since the house has more usable square footage than originally anticipated, and because there appear to be current renters, she's raising the sale price. So, I just sent my new intern to go pick up some lunch. Or at least I said, excuse me, young man, whose name I don't know yet, who I only think works here, can you go grab me a cob salad with extra whipped cream and pencil shavings from the missing frog salad bar? He didn't say yes, nor did he ever seem to see or hear me, but he did look really frightened and ran from the room crying, which was such a polite and respectful gesture to his superior. What a nice young man. Dress is kind of weird, though, so early 80s, with his double Windsor striped tie, polyester coat, and aviator goggles, just like we all wore back in the day.

I suppose most things eventually come back in fashion. Well, I can only assume he heard my lunch order. I'm starving. You're starving? Try not having a mouth. Oh, my God, you scared me. Listeners, we have an unplanned visit from the faceless old woman who secretly lives in your home. Or I guess in this case, your radio studio while you're still on the air.

Cecil, we need to talk about the distant prince. Few dare to speak of. of him so as not to draw his attention. What do you know? His harbingers are here. They are prepared to announce his arrival with their long, toothy beaks. Their stomach eyes see all. They've been rehearsing this announcement in their room

at the Hampton Inn on Route 800. They've been writing and rewriting their grand pronouncement and teaching it to the court shriekers to shriek out to all of night veil. What does that mean? What? Shriek? It's like a painful yell. Like this. Meanwhile, the mangled servants are gathering the ears of important Night Vale politicians.

Gross. Right? And they will sew the ears onto the walls of the Hampton Incontinental Breakfast Bar and use them as portals into many dimensions at once. Their plan is to destroy time itself and collapse Night Vale into a dense singularity. Why do they want to do this? It was suggested to him by a nice young woman from out of town. What young woman?

She... she... she... The woman from Italy brings fun and jest. Consuming all souls until none are left. Distant Prince and she planned a terrible plot, destroying all that is until all is not. I met her in dreams and found a dear friend. A woman, a mortal mind, can't comprehend. No God controls her. No physics can hold her.

She'll set the world a fire, but leave you all colder. Yeah, she and I are best friend. now. She's a lot of fun, really good poet. I gotta go. Steve Carlsberg is back home and I want to stand behind him in the mirror when he bends down to wash his face. His shrieks are the funniest. Oh, dumb old Steve. Be nice, okay. We're getting reports that a dense fog is now pouring from a giant glowing slash in the sky above the rec center. Some Tyrannadons have flown out of it, as well as a commercial airliner, and those who enter the fog reported hearing shouts, blood-curdling screams, and even the echo of drums.

But there's also the Battle of the Band's sound check happening right now at the rec center, so it's probably just that. Either way, keep a close eye out for these apparent, hairs in the fabric of our reality. Also, go check out the Battle of the Bands. I think Diane Creighton's son, Josh, and his boyfriend, Grant, are organizing that event. And now a word from our sponsors. Today's show is brought to you by a gray pigeon, whispering to you from your neighbor's backyard. The pigeon, his name is Alfonso, is telling you that you are,

are the one true God, and that He wants you to bring it a body part, a human body part. Doesn't matter which part. Just do it. Soon. Time's almost gone. The Bible was wrong. The Pigeon added, suddenly from your right shoulder, there never was a beginning. This has been a word from our sponsors. Reports continue from the last few weeks of people all over Nightveil experiencing false realities. The most believable visions are those of tall, winged beings roaming the streets and asking to borrow ten bucks. City Council is issuing daily press releases, claiming the existence of angels is important. possible and illegal.

City Council is threatening to no longer speak to anyone who acknowledges the so-called angels. You are uninvited to our birthday party. Today's press release reads, Too bad, there will be karaoke and mini-golf. Your loss, Angel Acknowledger. A series of fissures in reality have begun to open up, revealing truth. that should never have existed.

Like the 12th century Scottish castle sitting atop the staples over on Galloway. Francis Donaldson, at the Antiques Mall, reports suddenly knowing how to play the piano when before she only knew how to play keyboard. Larry Leroy, out on the edge of town, came home to find his wife, Cressette, mowing the lawn,

but he was never married. He last saw Cresset in high school when they were both in the lurching band, together. And Fire Chief Ramona Incarnacion said she found a rock in the shape of Harry Stiles' liver. I don't know how Harry is getting by without his liver, Incarnation said, or given how much mud was on this thing, how he was ever getting by with it. Night Vale. Beware the untruths which attempt to dismantle our town. Stay vigilant. Read your journals. Look at your photographs.

Do your best to remember what is real. Oh, man, speaking of real, I'm real hungry. I wish my intern would get back soon with my salad. It's been forever since he... Oh, wait. He left his wallet behind. Well, strike one, new intern. How are you supposed to buy lunch if you don't take any money?

Hope he has some cash in his pockets. I'm going to be so annoyed if lunch is late. This is a pretty nice wallet. Trifold. Ooh, photo pages. Human leather, money clip. I used to have one just like this. Maybe let's find out more about you, kiddo.

Bowling League card. Ooh, I love the guy. Young Reporter's League membership. Wow. It's after my own heart. Photos of him with a young man. he could probably be related to, and is that my... Who are you?

Wait, where's your driver's license? Oh, God. Listeners here... Just... Okay, here's the weather while I sort this out. My new intern never made it back. He never left. Or maybe.

Was never here at all. Or maybe still is here after all these years. After finding his My ID in his wallet, I ran out after him. But before I even got out of the building, I found him in the restroom. The door was slightly cracked, and the light was on. I heard a voice, a familiar young voice. Leonard said if I work hard, maybe I'll be a radio presenter myself someday, said the voice.

It was so frightened, but still, I looked into the washroom and he was standing in front of a mirror looking right at himself. I never look into those things, or at least I haven't in a long time. I think the radio station is fun, he said. I think the radio station is hidden. I think the radio station is like a dark planet lit by no sun. I think, therefore I see. soon won't be, he said. I wanted to cry out to warn him. My mother told me to stay away from mirrors, and I knew he was in danger. I opened my mouth and tried to step into the room, but I could not

speak, could not move forward. I'm looking in a mirror, he said. The mirror is not covered, he said. Stop, don't look into the mirror, I tried to say, but nothing came out of my mouth, only spit an inaudible wheeze. Tears stung my eyes. I waved frantically, trying to catch his attention. The flickering movement is just behind me, he said, and then he looked right at me in the mirror. His eyes grew wide and wet. He said, I. He said, again, I.

And then he choked. Then he screamed. Then I screamed. Only again no sound came out. He fell to the floor, and for a moment I remembered. I remembered blue lights and blood in my throat and a dark planet lit by no sun and then I forgot it, or at least what it looked like or only that it was, or never was, or still he is. His wallet was not. It was not. His wallet was no longer in my studio. His, my driver's license was no longer in my hand. My familiar teenage intern was no longer lying on the ground. The mirror he was looking into is now shattered into thousands of intersecting cracks like parched desert dirt. I approached the mirror, hoping to see a face I knew, a young man's face I just barely remember. But I only saw a multiplicity of me, a man, divided.

unrecognizably under razor-sharp lines, and behind me a glowing slash in the bathroom wall. When I turned, the hole in reality was gone. Only plain grey subway tiles. I don't know what is real. Myself is a younger intern. The woman from Italy, these holes in reality, Harry Stiles' liver. Harry Stiles? Are any of these things real?

One thing I know is real. Or the angels. After hours of waiting in line, their paperwork has been officially filed with the Hall of Public Records and a hearing date scheduled sometime between the last Friday of this month and the last Friday of 2003.

Night Vale. Reality is failing us. And strange forces are gathering. the distant prince, the woman from Italy, the dragons. Untokar, I don't know what we can do to save a failing reality. I only know we can make real that which we acknowledge and accept. Angels are real, Night Vale.

The actuality of people we rarely see or interact with may seem unimportant as fissures in our world threaten to collapse everything we know, but if you see an angel, tell them, you see them. Tell them they are real. Point at them and shout,

you're an angel. We can only make real. What we accept is real. Tell them, okay? Good night. Night Vale. Good night. Welcome to Nightvale is a production of Nightvale Presents. It is written by Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Kramer and produced by Joseph Fink. The voice of Nightvale is Cecil Baldwin. The voice of the faceless old woman was Mara Wilson.

Original music by Dysperition. All of it can be found at dispersion. info or at disparition.bancamp.com. This episode's weather was All or Nothing by The Dream Masons. Find out more at the dreammasons.bancamp.com. Comments, questions, email us at info at welcome to nightvail.com or follow us on Twitter at nightvail radio. Or open a book to a random page and do whatever it says. Check out welcome to nightvail.com for more information on this show and our other shows, including the new season of Alice Isn't Dead. And while you're there, consider clicking the donate link. Help us, help you to help us help you. Today's proverb, good things come to those who wait.

Good things come slithering down the unctuous brown stone walls to those who wait alone in the dark pit. Hey, Jeffrey Kraner here to tell you about another show from me and my Nightvale co-creator Joseph Fink. It's called Unlicensed, and it's an L.A. Noir-style mystery set in the outskirts of present-day Los Angeles. Unlicensed follows two unlicensed private investigators who small jobs looking into insurance claims and missing property are only the tip of a conspiracy iceberg. There are already two seasons of Unlicensed for you to listen to now, with Season 3 dropping on May 15th. Unlicensed is available exclusively through Audible,

free if you already have that subscription. And if you don't, Audible has a trial membership, and if I know you, and I do, you can binge all that mystery goodness in a short window. And if you like it, if you liked Unlicensed, please, please rate and review each season. our ability to keep making this show is predicated on audience engagement. So go check out Unlicensed, available now only at audible.com.