Welcome to Night Vale - 265 - Labyrinth HQ

Episode Date: April 1, 2025

There’s a strange broadcast coming from deep with in Labyrinth headquarters. Weather: "What Really Matters" by Arielle Silver The voice of Leonard Burton is James Urbaniak Original episode art by Jessica Hayworth Read episode transcripts 2025-26 TOUR DATES Just Announced! UNLICENSED Season 2 is here! Only on AudiblePre-order the Welcome to Night Vale Roleplaying Game today! Sign up for the Night Vale newsletter for good news and recommendations. Patreon is how we exist! If you can, please help us keep making this show. Music: Disparition Logo: Rob Wilson Written by Joseph Fink, Jeffrey Cranor & Brie Williams Narrated by Cecil Baldwin Follow us on BlueSky, Facebook, and Instagram. Check out our books, live shows, store, membership program, and official recap show at welcometonightvale.com A production of Night Vale Presents. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Hey, Nightville, it is Jeffrey Craneer speaking to you from April of 2026 with a couple of cool things coming up. First off, we're going to be in Europe touring our newest Nightville live show, Murder Night in Blood Forest. We're going to be in Edinburgh, UK, on May 27th. We'll be in Manchester on the 28th. We will be in London on May 29th, and we will be in Amsterdam on May the 30th. You can get tickets for these shows at Welcome to Nightville.com slash live, and hopefully we'll have more. shows coming up later this year. Who knows? Just get on our newsletter. Go to Welcome to Nightville.com. Sign up for our newsletter. We will send you emails twice a month to let you know all of the news that you

need to know about Welcome to Nightville. One of the big news things to tell you right now is that our other hit podcast, Alice Isn't Dead, is coming back on April the 13th, written by Joseph Fink, produced by Disparition and starring Jacica Nicole. More episodes of Alice Isn't Dead return on April the 13th. so make sure you are still subscribed to that podcast. Finally, do you want some cool Nightville merch? Go to Welcome to Nightville.com, click on Store, and we have all kinds of cool t-shirts, things for the summer, tank tops, beach towels. And if you like coffee mugs, if you want calendars, if you want backpacks,

all kinds of cool stuff there. So check out Welcome to Nightville.com and click on Store, click on live. If you want to see our live shows, we will see you in Europe. And hey, thanks. appearances can be deceiving. So can sounds, smells, sensations. Basically anything could be a lie. Welcome to Night Vale. Hello from the Great Outdoors, or at least from the street outside the radio station. Yes, I am back on the mobile broadcasting equipment today. I was perturbed over the last couple weeks to discover that my old mentor,

Leonard Burton, has been back on the air, sometimes even broadcasting on the same frequency as our station. This is upsetting for two reasons. One is that it's rude to broadcast on a frequency that is already being used by a fellow broadcaster, any more than you would butt ahead of someone else in line at a store. The other reason is that I saw Leonard Burton get absolutely creamed by a truck decades ago. He died. He is dead. I know this. And so how could he be broadcasting on our airwaves again? If he is alive, if I am mistaken, then I must find him. If he is dead, and his voice is being faked somehow, I must discover who is behind this twisted deed. In either case, there is a wrong here and I must write it. To make matters more complicated,

we have tracked the source of Leonard's broadcast. And by we, I mean some friends who would like to remain anonymous, who work for a vague yet menacing government agency. Thanks, Alex and Jenny. And the source of the broadcast is, Labyrinth, that tech company that Steve has been working for. What is going on here? I must go to Labyrinth and discover for myself.

but I must also do a radio show. Thus, the mobile broadcasting equipment. You're all coming with me. But as we walk, let's do the headlines. In the news today, there is a small, tiny, totally not worrying infrastructure crisis. It's no big deal. No one is going to starve for like a few months. So please, be chill about this.

It's just that it turns out Night Vale is really hard to find, and to leave, and to enter. In general, its relationship with the rest of the world is ill-defined and tenuous. Mostly, people wander here when called by forces none of us understand for purposes revealed in the form of visions and prophecies, normal American stuff, right? Well, it turns out that's not great for the shipping of fresh produce and other perishable food stuffs. Food suppliers and distributors say that trucks full of cabbages, frozen chicken, pennies, and other valuable consumables have gone missing or have arrived in the wrong destinations, sometimes would the driver transformed into a baby or a very old person. As a result, food shipments have become scarce.

Now, you shouldn't panic. Of course, we won't run out of food. The reason I say this is because that would be very scary if it happened. And isn't the kind of thing that feels like it could ever happen in a normal town like this. And that means it can't happen and never will. Simple. In other news, the town founder has continued her rampage through Night Vale. Ever since, and I hate to bore you with a tedious recitation of a story you've heard a thousand times before,

but ever since the town founder hatched out of her own statue, she has been eating citizens. Polling has been bad on this subject with 80% of Democrats and 5% of Republicans saying town founders should not get to eat people alive in front of their screaming families. More on this story, as long as I am not the one who, who is devoured next. Always possible, I guess. This has been today's headlines. I am now outside of Labyrinth headquarters. It's a slick tech campus with everything you'd expect. A juice bar, a hammock forest, a charging station for cryptids. But it's in a weird part of town. The industrial district on Sandpiper Road. Near the warehouse flats and the parking lot full of

1996 Toyota Corolla's. Other than the Labyrinth campus, there is not much on this stretch of road. Just a pre-owned bathroom tile business and an old woman selling frozen enchiladas out of a cooler. Let me go inside. Okay, there is a very hip little foyer, a reception desk with no one at it, a living wall made entirely of cactus, so cute and... So spiny. There is a neon sign that says rise and grind. And another one that says, positivity is key. And another that says, speak not of what you have seen,

O pilgrims of this sacred order. Basic corporate cliches. But, you know, the effect is still nice. Hello? Hello? There isn't anyone here. I don't. I don't.

I actually don't see any way to continue further into the building. This voyeur has no doors, except the one to the outside I just came through. How is one supposed to visit this place? Steve? Are you here, buddy? There's an excellent barista setup, although no barista is currently operating. I suppose I could make myself a cup of coffee, but I prefer to use my own hammer for that. I'm kind of particular about coffee. hammers. Wait. In the living wall of cactuses there is a small round hole. Hardly seems big enough

for a person, but I think I see a light on the other side. Could that be the entrance? Surely not. And yet, let me just... Owry? Okay, these cactuses are definitely real and their spines have not been trimmed or blunted in any way. Ah, ah. And I'm through. Okay. I'm now in a large office room full of cubicles, so I guess that was the entrance.

Trey avant-garde. Oh, I should do some radio stuff. Right. A word from our sponsors. For many decades now, Campbell's Soup was known for our distinctive red and white cans. and our premium soup products. But all of that changes today,

because we are, right now, about to drop several thousand gallons of seawater on a Broadway performance. Which Broadway performance? We won't say. Because then they might stop us. Why? Well, now, when you think of Campbell's, you'll think, wait, the company that dropped thousands of gallons of seawater on a Broadway performance and then got sued into a...

oblivion? This is how you change your reputation by boldly acting and thinking later, if at all. Campbell's Soup. Here it goes. Three, two, one. The Lion King. More like the sea lion king. This has been a word from our sponsors. This cubicle farm is empty. It's almost as if it was full moments ago, but emptied out right as I was coming in. There are coffees still warm on some of the desks. A chair is spinning lazily from the momentum of unseen escape. A clunky black office phone sits off the hook,

a small tinny voice saying, Hello? Hello? from its receiver? Where did the workers go? Were they fleeing me? Or is this from danger here that I am unknowingly putting myself in? I press on. There is a whiteboard.

It looks like they were in the middle of a meeting and taking notes. Some of the notes. What if we all jumped at the same time, could that be enough? Another note. Larry suggests sewing needles. Another note. Juggling supplies? Question mark.

And then what looks like a paragraph of text scrawled frantically at the bottom of the whiteboard and just as frantically wiped off with the sweaty palm of a hand. In the back there are a few offices of what are probably the head honchos, desks made of actual wood. windows with a panoramic view of the parking lot, pictures on the wall that are either family members or photogenic strangers. And here, the office ends. Once again, there does not appear to be any way forward.

Except, I'm noticing a light shining from the waste paper basket in this office. Looking down, yes, yes, I can see a tile floor down there. Again, it's an opening barely enough for a person, but I will... Ah! Good thing the mobile broadcasting equipment is so small. Whoa! I've fallen through to the next level. Um, more on that soon.

But first, an important message from the dental underground. Hello, it's us again. Don't worry, you're safe. We would never hurt you in ways you would know about. We are here for your kids. Oh, sorry, we misspoke. We are here about your kids. We want to talk about them, your kids.

We want you to know that we would never snatch them away. We would never creep into your house in the narrow hours of the night and replace your children with doubles, who are in every way your child, except they are missing a soul. We would never do that to you. We've done it to others, obviously, but we are not currently planning to do it to you, is the point. Instead, we want to talk about your kids' teeth. We are, after all, merely dentists, merely dentists who live underground. There is nothing weird going on here.

Did you know that your child's teeth might rot? Might rot clean away? Why, with the way things are today, it might happen quicker than you think. A healthy child, and then, bam! Rotting teeth! Imagine it. Picture it. Imagine it graphically.

That's why, for your child's safety, it is best to... remove their teeth. Just take their teeth away and keep the teeth somewhere safe, where they can never get food or sugar on them, all that yucky stuff, and they can never rot, where they can stay pristine forever. If that sounds difficult to do, don't worry. We've already done it. We crept into your house in the narrow hours of the night, and we took all of their teeth. So don't worry. Their teeth are safe. And we only promised we wouldn't take your entire child.

We keep our promises to the letter. And only to the letter. This has been important dental information from the dental underground. We love you. Having fallen through the waste paper basket, I am now in, I guess, the bathroom? It's a long tile hallway lined on both sides by an endless row of identical stalls. All the stalls are a jar and empty. They are perfectly clean, so compliments to the janitorial staff, wherever they are.

There's no one here. Which is good, I guess. I would feel weird recording while someone was in here. Both directions look the same, so I'm going to pick one and start walking. Hello? Nothing. Wait. Was that a flush?

Hello? Sorry to bother you? Years. Wait, no, there it is again. It's a voice. It's the voice of Leonard Burton. Hold on, Leonard. I'm coming.

I've reached the end of the bathroom. It ends at a wall of mirrors and, well, it stinks. Unlike the toilets, the sinks and mirrors are filthy. The soap dispensers are empty. There is graffiti scratched into the glass. Things like, for a good time, try ballroom dancing, and to live is to suffer, baby, and employees must wash hands after using the bathroom. Once again, a dead end.

But I still hear Leonard's voice echoing somewhere. Let's see. Can't go down the train. and I am not crawling into a toilet, so... Let me check the stalls. All identical. All identical. Okay, well, this one is different.

It's empty of any features of a bathroom stall. There is a square hole in the floor with a ladder leaning down. Well, don't have to ask me twice. Here I go into the hole in the bathroom floor. I'll have to strap the broadcasting equipment. to my back, so what a great time to check in on the weather. I find myself in a warehouse. We must be deep underground.

I was climbing on that ladder for what felt like two minutes and 30 seconds plus 30 to 60 seconds for ads. This warehouse is lit by dim lights hanging high above from a ceiling that I cannot seen. There is still no sign of anyone else here, but there are hundreds, if not thousands, of wooden crates. The air is heavy and stale. I feel like I might be the first person to enter this dusty sanctum. There is no indication what is inside them, but from somewhere in this warehouse, I hear the voice of my mentor, broadcasting on as though he did not die in front of me, blood on asphalt, a soul dissipating. So I keep moving forward, deeper and deeper.

And this brings me no nearer to the voice. I reach out, brush my hand against the wood of one of the crates, and then I open it. Oh, inside there is a woman. She is dressed in a work shirt and jeans. she gets up and says, Hey, thanks, and walks off into the darkness of the warehouse. Let me try another one. This one has a small toy train. There is a posted note on the train that says, let me see.

Highly cursed, do not play with. If the words choo-choo are said near it, the consequences could be dire for us all. Oh. Huh. Um, the inside of the look. locomotive is lighting up and steam is pouring out of its tiny stack.

I'm starting to think I shouldn't have read that note out loud. I'm just going to close the crate again. There we go. All good now, I'm sure. Leonard's voice is even louder over here. Um, uh, another crate. Okay. This crate opens into what looks like a hotel hallway.

I am stepping down into it. into it, and even as I do, gravity shifts sickeningly, and now I am standing upright in the hallway. Leonard's voice is coming from somewhere in here, and walking down the hall. Every door is boarded shut, except one. Room 2A. I push, and the door swings open. What?

How? Hi. Oh, hi. Leonard? Is... Is that you? I think so. Self becomes such a confusing subject past a certain point, doesn't it? I saw you die!

I expect you did. Do you know where we are, by chance? We're at the headquarters of Labyrinth. Ah, that makes a lot of sense, actually. Did you know that one time I tried to do an investigative report on Labyrinth, and they ran me over with a truck? Yes. I was there. Of course, you said.

I think they've trapped me here to send secret messages to their agents in the field. At first, I was content to be in front of a microphone, but how long have I been broadcasting? Oh, about two weeks? Ah, see, from my point of view, it's been, if I check my watch here, about 2,000 years. An upsetting amount of time for anyone, I'd think. Well, thank you for opening the door. I suppose I should be getting along then. Where will you go?

Right? Who even knows? Well, hopefully I see you again under better circumstances, or at least different ones. Bye, Leonard. And with that, he ambles out of the hotel room and down the hallway, before disappearing around a corner. Well, I do feel good having a round.

rescued my old friend and mentor. I am not feeling great about the fact that Labyrinth captured his soul somehow, maybe. And what does all of this mean for Steve working here? All in all, kind of a mixed day. Time to return the equipment to station. Oh no. The exit from the crate disappeared. So, I'll first.

have to find my way out of this vast otherworldly hotel. I hate it when this happens. Stay two next. For the new hit single from Chapel Rhone, I don't have eyes, and you shouldn't either. Good night, night veil. Good. Oh, great.

All of the doors disappeared. And there go the lights. This is going to take a while. Good night. Welcome to Nightvale as a production of Nightvale Presents. It is written by Joseph Think, Jeffrey Kraner, and Bree Williams, and produced by Dysperition. The voice of Leonard Burton was James Urbaniac. The voice of Night Vale is Cecil Baldwin.

Original music by Dysperition. All of it can be found at disparition.bancamp.com. This episode's weather was What Really Matters by Ariel Silver. find out more at the link in our show notes. Comments, questions, email us at info at welcome to nightvale.com or follow us on blue sky at night veil radio or on Instagram, Tumblr, and TikTok at Nightvale Official. Or dance like no one's watching because you're the only one left in some sort of apocalypse

scenario. But mainly, check out Welcome to Nightveal.com, where we have a twice monthly mailing list. That is the best way to keep up to date directly from us. us to you. Today's proverb, hats off to you, socks off to you, and a shirt that doesn't quite fit off to you. We'll say, in the phone, all the world can be a guy of the finance. Not to have a gross mongrel in art, to play to golf, or to be an pro of the crypto. Not a business.

In any way, you have always made these affairs, and the apply negotiator T-T-T-T-D you add to renouwer with your instinct of negotiation. With some support 24 hours per day, no amount on minimum, nor fray mensuel. You're made for negotiate, and the appellee-negoti-tit-tit-T-D is made for you help.

Telecharge it right now. Hey, Jeffrey Kraner here to tell you about another show from me and my Night Vale 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.