Welcome to Night Vale - 198 - Them Woods Are a Maze

Episode Date: November 15, 2021

There’s a secret art showing in the Whispering Forest. Weather: “Dream” by Nata https://soundcloud.com/natadov Transcript available at http://welcometonightvale.com/transcripts New novel from Jeffrey Cranor & Janina Matthewson: YOU FEEL IT JUST BELOW THE RIBS https://www.withinthewires.com/ Hot Night Vale merch! https://topatoco.com/wtnv Patreon is how we exist! If you can, please help us keep making this show: http://patreon.com/welcometonightvale/ 2022 US TOUR WEATHER ARTISTS ANNOUNCED! March 27 - June 24, we’ll be all over America with “The Haunting of Night Vale” Tickets on sale now! http://welcometonightvale.com/live Music: Disparition http://disparition.bandcamp.com Logo: Rob Wilson http://robwilsonwork.com Written by Joseph Fink & Jeffrey Cranor. Narrated by Cecil Baldwin. http://welcometonightvale.com Follow us on Twitter, Facebook, or Instagram. Check out our books, live shows, store, membership program, and official recap show. Produced by Night Vale Presents. http://nightvalepresents.com 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 Dissin 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 9. 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. Those who live in glass houses should at least hang curtains around their bathroom. Welcome to Night Vale. Listeners, let's talk about community. Too often we stay in our little neighborhoods with our doors and windows closed,

cameras on our porches, signs in our yards that say, keep out Todd. I mean, Todd is a little too chummy, if I'm honest. But I think there's a happy medium between getting to know our neighbors and being Todd. I've mentioned Larry Leroy before on this show. He lives out on the edge of town. He's an artist and a kind old man. I've always considered his. him a friend, though I'm not sure why. I had never been to visit him, nor him me. I see him here at the station and around town from time to time, but that's about it. And I don't know. Something came over me the other day, have no idea what it was, merely a suggestion floating in the ether, I suppose, that I should go visit Larry, that I should be more social in my own community. Larry built a

new house, not far from where his old house was destroyed a few years back by a subterranean vortex. And his new place is gorgeous. It's a little one-and-one bungalow with a wrap-around porch and a bay window. His rock garden was decorated with homemade lawn art, mostly abstract towers of sharpened scrap metal and piles of reused plastic twisted into colorful pyramids. All of the art inside his house was his own too. He had self-portraits holding bowls of fruit, self-portraits with dogs, nude self-portraits while wearing powdered wigs, and self-portraits of him painting self-portraits. And of course, Larry is famous for his dioramas.

Lots of detailed historical depictions like George Washington Carver inventing the Cathode-Ray tube, Frida Callo and Diego Rivera playing badminton. And there was a really cool diorama he constructed from teeth he found under his pillow of Malcolm X watching Season 2 of what we do in the shadows. I took my husband Carlos with me. We left Esteban with my niece for the morning because she just finished her semester and had some free time to entertain her little cousin. Carlos and I were anxious to get away, even if only for a couple of hours, to visit a another adult. More on our adventure with Larry in a moment. But first, I wanted to update you all about Koshek. Lots of you have written in to ask if my cat Koshek is feeling any better. I don't

remember mentioning that he was sick, but apparently last month, people heard nearly 30-minute-long broadcasts on this very radio station of a cat screeching and hissing. Uh, not sure how that happened. Sorry about that, listeners. But yes, Koshak was extremely sick, with an abscessed tooth which got terribly infected. His eyes had nearly swollen shut, and I had to call in a vet to save him. Dr. Joe Hinson, one of the most highly recommended vets in town, came to the rescue. Dr. Hinson gave Koshchek a couple of shots and prescribed some pills which I have to hide in Koshchek's wet food.

I honestly didn't think Koshchak was going to be. to make it. He's getting pretty old and he had taken to trying to claw and bite me. But once Dr. Hinson worked his magic, Koshak healed right up. He's feeling so much better, just purring and meowing all the time. Every time I go visit him, in fact, almost like he's trying to tell me a story. It's so cute. He's like a little radio show host. He's taking after his human dad. Aw. Unfortunately for Dr. Hinson, though, Koshak scratched him pretty badly. He thought he would just need some antibiotic ointment for his wound, but he also lost about a liter of blood and the infection spread so rapidly that he had to have his feet amputated. And after that, his skin began to bubble and discolor

like a simmering beef chili until the pain and terror grew so great in him that Dr. Henson retired to spend more time dissolving into a smoking pulp. He will be missed. To the family and friends of Dr. Joe Hinson. He was a good vet, but not super great with cats. Anyway, Koshak's doing great. Thanks for all your emails. Okay, back to our morning with Larry Leroy. When I reached out to Larry the other day,

I asked if he'd like to have a coffee one morning. You know, something simple like that. There's a great new coffee shop in the Barista District called Katana, where they grind the beans by throwing them in the air. air and slicing them with swords. It's supposed to really maximize the flavor profile. But Larry suggested we come out his way. He'd make us breakfast, show us his new house, and then take us to an art exhibit. I didn't even know that we had an art museum in Night Vale. Larry said we don't, but there's apparently a super secret gallery showing out in the

whispering forest. It's rumored that there are original works by Ludwig Detman, Jim Dine, Augusta Savage, and Louis Bouchoir. Now, I had never heard of any of those people, but I definitely nodded my head like I did. Larry didn't notice, though, because the entire conversation was over email. I did tell him that going into the whispering forest sounded incredibly dangerous because, well, it's enchanted. The trees whisper compliments to you until you eventually become a tree yourself. Larry agreed that the journey would be a treacherous one.

but said that this is pretty standard for an art museum. I mean, MoMA has the 60-foot-high tightrope above the pit of razor wire at their entrance. The Tate Modern in London gives you a riddle that must be solved before you can get in. And those who fail the riddle are fed to pigs. Even Lackma requires visitors to have immunity to neurotoxic gases. Plus, he said that Michelle Wynne from Dark Al Records has been out there several times, but it's easy for her because, well, she's impervious to compliments. I consulted Carlos first, of course, and he thought it was a great idea.

I'm not sure he fully understood the risks. He was merely thrilled to have a brief moment not around an energetic toddler. So we agreed. More on that in a minute. But first, let's have a look at traffic. Listeners, the exciting news is our station just spring. for a helicopter. Cool, right?

Now we'll be able to bring you the most accurate traffic reports imaginable. And our eye in the sky, our helicopter liaison, Yeji Lim, will give you the lowdown on how traffic looks out there in Night Vale. And according to our first ever, helicopter traffic report, Lim says, All the roads look weird. It's mind-blowing from this vantage point. Lim said that from high up in her traffic copter the streets look like veins. Not like strips of asphalt upon which move aluminum and steel vehicles, but mother-blanken veins.

It's so weird, Lim said. And like the cars moving around, it's like blood. So gross, Lim added. Yuck. What the hell am I seeing? She said. Our city looks like a living organism, but one that's a living organism. but one that's been cut open so you can see all of the blood pulsing through it.

We cut this thing open and it's still alive, Lim shrieked. It's still alive, she repeated, her lower jaw quivering, her watery eyes bulging. What hath God wrought? Lim then said quietly as if to no one, before flying higher and higher into the firmament, until her helicopter was just a tiny speck and a distant husband. And now back to our adventure in the whispering forest. Carlos, Larry, and I set out to the woods around eight this morning. Carlos devised a brilliant plan to protect each other from the trees.

Using basic science, Carlos realized that enchantments can be offset by more powerful enchantments. You know, the saying, fight fire with fire? Carlos asked us. Of course, Larry and I had heard it before, but we never stopped to ask. ask what it meant or even tried to understand through context clues. It was just a string of words to us. Well, Carlos continued, it comes from the scientific principle that the only way to stop a fire is to use a larger fire to put it out. Enchantments, even powerful ones that use flattery,

work the same way. We were in awe of how vast Carlos's scientific knowledge was, and we both felt super safe. As we entered the forest, the compliments came hard and fast from the trees. Oh, wow, you have perfect skin. And your hair is so shiny and voluminous. I could see Larry slowing down, almost breaking under the incredible kindness of the woods. But Carlos countered them by saying, Larry, you have the coolest shoes. And I've never met a more talented artist than you. And that's a manly stride you have there, Larry, very confident. Carlos' strategy worked. How was he able to do this? I asked him.

And Carlos said the secret to a great compliment is to focus on the subject's choices, not their bodies. We can choose fashion, careers, aesthetics, vibes, all that, much more easily than what our bodies look like. It feels good when someone notices what you have made for you. yourself. We reached the center of the woods in what felt like only 15 or 20 minutes, though we would learn soon enough that this was a lie. At a clearing in the trees, we found it. We found art. Hanging from vines, leaning against rocks and shrubs were some of the finest paintings I have

ever seen. The brushwork, extravagant, and the colors? divine. I know nothing about art, and even I could understand these were all masterpieces. From 20th century postmodern abstracts to the rough and realistic Renaissance mythologies, to the deconstructed still lifes of 19th century Impressionism. We were so taken by the beauty of the exhibit that we did not at first notice the figure in the dead center of the glade. wearing a black cloak, a small crown with two horns, and a name tag that said, Hello, my name is, and then the words, Mino, she, her, scrawled in black Sharpie below.

I had to presume this to be the proprietor of the gallery, and that their name was Mino. Our eyes all met Minos at once, and Minos said, You should not have come. Looking up, we all became aware that the day was gone. Or at least the sun was. The sky was black, though it couldn't have been yet nine in the morning. You'll never find your way out, Mino said. Them woods are a maze, Larry muttered.

I usually say labyrinth, Mino said, but yes, that. Wait, time out. Sorry, I got to pee. like really bad. Let's go to the weather. and we are, on a cover, down'n' down, given me from

from m'lashino of rink, you're going, what you want to see? God in garage and pustin'n

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You'll just- Smyorish on me in the you'll bechish by line of Mora Doganat Ulethuech

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Morsko I'm not all new krujks for tea D'Eye Restele, with my Ochoin'estmintenie and Bessonich'

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Bessonichmue RADDiettee and bea And in the GERininin'i I'll be, I've you, just So I was just in the

So I was just in the bathroom here at work where Koshek is always, and I mean always hovering at exactly four feet off the ground in exactly the same place. Every day. For the last nine years since I found him, his kittens were all there, but they only glared at me not saying anything. Probably because they're cats. But also probably because they're jerks. I mean, that Venn diagram is almost a perfect circle. I'm a bit alarmed, but I'm sure he's fine. He's a cat.

He'll come back. I hope. Anyway, we're in the clearing in the middle of the dark woods, in what should have been mid-morning. We're told that the woods are a maze. Carlos, like the prepared scientist he is, pulls a compass from his shoulder compass holster, which was hidden beneath his black leather lab coat. And for those of you wondering, yes, Carlos is licensed to carry a concealed compass.

But when we looked at it, the needle just spun wildly. I pulled out my phone, but the GPS could not locate us. We turned to Mino and begged to be released from the labyrinth. We promised to tell no one about the art. work. Maybe you stole this art? We won't tell. I stammered. I mean, I'm not saying you stole it. I bet you own it outright legally. You know, on the up and up. I didn't mean to suggest that, shut up, Cecil. Sorry, I said that out loud. I was a nervous wreck. Carlos pleaded that we had a son at home who would miss his fathers terribly, and we were two fathers who would miss our son terribly.

Plus, Carlos added, we told the babysitter where we were going. and she's a very responsible young woman who would immediately call the police if we weren't back by a certain time. And the police would come looking for us, probably, at some point, if they felt like it. Mino laughed, then pointed at two large spruce trees which were wearing blue FBI jackets. The authorities have been looking for me for years, Mino said. A couple of them even found me, but they couldn't resist. the curse of these woods. Gentlemen, Myno continued,

I am not keeping you here. I myself am kept here. I enchanted this forest years ago. But the spell has grown more powerful than its speaker. Even I am trapped in this labyrinth of my own making. Mino then made a fist and shook it to the heavens, which I thought was funny, but Carlos thought it was a little hackneyed.

Larry took out his sketchbook. He'd been doodling in it all morning. He used it during our walk into the whispering forest to help distract himself from the generous praise of the trees. Mino said it was no use. The forest cannot be filmed or recorded or even drawn. Larry slumped upon seeing his sketchbook pages completely empty. Over my shoulder, I heard one of the trees chattering trying to enchant us. It was too far away to have any effect, but I realized, I recognized that tree. It was the one that had complimented me on my beautiful resonant voice.

I clearly remember it telling me that. We definitely passed that one, I said. Close your ears and follow me, I called as I headed toward the familiar path out. Carlos, Larry, and Mino followed close behind. Their palms clapped to their sides of their heads. Shortly after that, I saw another tree I do. It was the one that had said it enjoyed my community calendars. I enjoyed them too, tree.

Further along the path, to the left, there was the tree that had said it found me a trustworthy voice of local journalism. How true. How true. In appreciation, I autographed the tree's trunk with my pocket knife. Always loved to meet a fan. I pulled the others along the twisting path until we finally returned to the entrance of a pocket knife. the whispering forest. The sun was shining once again. The four of us stood on the edge of the woods, panting and smiling. Carlos had to go pick up Esteban from Janice's dorm. I needed to go get to work. Larry wanted to go try out his new dark room. And Mino? Though finally freed from their

own prison, Mino had no home in Night Vale. She wasn't from here. Larry offered Mino room on his couch, but she declined. I will find my way, she said. I have an old friend here in town I would like to see. Mino turned and walked alone across the dusty hills toward town. Before we left, Carlos asked me, Larry and Mino and I had to plug our ears as we escaped the labyrinth. How were you able to take in all those compliments, sweetie, and still not turn into a tree?

I said, I'm excellent at what I do. It's not a compliment if it's the truth, babe. Carlos just said, huh. I said, I love you. See you tonight. And I will.

But first, I need to print out some missing cat posters. It's not like Koshchak to disappear like that. Stay tuned next for the gravity of the moon. And as always, good night, night fail. Good night. Welcome to Nightvale is a production of Nightvale Presents. It is written by Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Kramer and produced by Dysperition. The voice of Nightvale is Cecil Baldwin.

Original music by Dysperition. All of it can be found at disparition.bancamp.com. This episode's weather was Dream by NADA. Find out more at Soundcloud.com slash Neda, DOV. Comments, questions, email us at info at welcome to nightv. Or follow us on Twitter at Nightvale Radio or dance a waltz in front of the handsome prince. Check us out at welcome to nightfail.com for info about great holiday gifts that you should buy now if you want them in time because of reasons. Today's proverb, ask your doctor about their health. It's always you, you, you.

Conversation is a two-way street. Hi, we're Meg Bashminer and Joseph Fink. of Welcome to Nightveil, and on our new show, The Best Worst, we explore the Golden Age of Television. To do that, we're watching the IMDB viewer-rated best and worst episodes of classic TV shows. The episode of Star Trek, where Beverly Crusher has sex with a ghost, the episode of the X-Files, where Skelly gets attacked by a vicious house cat. And also, the really good episodes, too. What can we learn from the best and worst of great television?

Like, for example, is it really a bad episode, or do people just hate women? The Best Worst. available wherever you get your podcasts.