Welcome to Night Vale - 284 - Harrison Kip's Twilight Gospel Hour
Episode Date: March 15, 2026Blessings to you all. This is Harrison Kip’s Twilight Gospel Hour. Come on in, friend. Weather: "Night Calling" by Who Is Raphael Leraux (prod. by Petrichor) The voice of Harrison Kip is Jef...frey Cranor The voice of Deb is Meg Bashwiner Original episode art by Jessica Hayworth Episode transcripts 2026 TOUR DATES Tix on sale now! Listen to UNLICENSED by Joseph Fink & Jeffrey Cranor. Only on Audible Welcome to Night Vale Roleplaying Game Subscribe to the Night Vale newsletter for news and stories Patreon is how we exist! Music: Disparition Logo: Rob Wilson Written by Joseph Fink, Jeffrey Cranor & Brie Williams Narrated by Cecil Baldwin Follow us on BlueSky, Facebook, TikTok, Tumblr, and Instagram A production of Night Vale Presents Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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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 Dissan 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
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they will review the middleest rated on IMDB. So check out all of those at nightfallpresents.com
or just wherever you get your podcast. And hey, thanks.
Blessings to you all. This is Harrison Kipp's Twilight Gospel Hour. Come on in, friend.
Well, howdy, y'all? Harrison Kipp here. Now some of you might know me as the adjutant
adjunct professor of archaeology at the Nightvale Community College.
Others might know me for my various important archaeological finds out in the desert,
such as a talisman that raised a 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 Mondays at 8 p.m.
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 like 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 Nightvale Community Radio.
Support for Nightvale Community Radio comes from Todd Allen Jones,
Yana Chernobylski
the Miriam MacDonald Memorial Fund
the Society for Goblins
The Mr. Ed
simply cannot have been the only
Talking Horse Society for Horse experimentation
The Marcus Vanceden found
Oh wait
Let me just cross that one now
The Flaky O's Fund for Misinformation
A generous grant from the Thing
That Lives Behind the Gravestones
Denny's
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 Listerine Fund for Small Desert Town Radio Stations. This wallet full of cash I found on the street
that we could not figure out who it belonged to, because all it had in it was the money, a driver's
license in the name of Pamela Winchell, and a slip of paper that said, if found, please return to,
and then it had Pamela Winchell's address, so that could belong to anyone, really.
The corporation for public brought...
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 for 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 ten 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 Vansden again,
and to move back into his mansion and changed his pronouns back to he, 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 in my religion were up to.
So yes, Marcus Vansden 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 Jenner,
I guess agree to disagree on that.
Frankly, it was stingy by the standards of his fortune.
An 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 it.
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 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 are 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 lives beyond the false sky.
Old children of the god who drew the dotted lines and arrows on that atmospheric facade built by lesser gods and tricksters.
Old children of your parents as well, don't forget mom and dad or mom and mom or dad and dad or the pollicule that raised you.
Big shout out to them.
Let us bow our heads and clasp our 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 and yet to be, we say howdy.
And oh yea, for we walk through the valley of the shadow of death and the ridge of unhappiness and the sycamore grove of jealousy.
But we fear not evil because we're just kind of over it.
We were afraid 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 who constantly knock on the firmament demanding to be let in,
demanding that whatever built that sky yield to you,
demanding 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, you're 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 sully myself with the ad reads.
For that, I instead bring you Deb, the Cindy.
and 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.
Anywho, today's Twilight Gospel Hour is sponsored by Hotels.com.
Folks, 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 got some real scary guys
calling us 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 them is a failure?
You think that's what we're going to tell them?
No.
No, sir.
Not us.
Not hotels.com.
Because you're going to start using us to book all your travel.
All of it.
Capiche?
Because those guys calling us in the middle of the night,
they're not the only ones with imaginations.
We can also think of stuff to do to knees.
Like, hold on, okay.
Like, hit them, I guess.
That's the main one.
So, 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 fellas 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.
Peritioners 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 text,
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, a hymn.
Dang it, you're telling me there is not a single hymn in this radio station.
The only music I can find in here is Jews with horns by the klezmatics and pirated copy of Bono's first
solo album Bono Belts the Blues.
Well, okay then, I guess let's have a weather report instead.
In the sky, a house will burn around our heads.
Ice closing the touch with poking, the flowing ocean.
Baptizing your waters, I'm floating with emotion.
Drink the drown, I'm surrounding my passion we invoke it.
Feel the fire light around me as the world is frozen.
And so it leads a spiral fares in the winterland.
So real depictions, the body's twisted upon demand.
Refuse is one where she begins is what I end
Nile at her altar and fill a tap what we might seein
Take a taste of a forbidden fruit
Get to know it just like an interview
Gave a pause like an in the loo
And then she breathing let the field consume
Kill it just like we're in the tomb here is spinning we spin it too
Looking back at the past surrounded in black flags
Future looking loosey you tightly gripping on my bed
Strangie in my home
Familiar but unknown
There ain't no laws within no order so we're taking a hole
Night falling, clouds are burned around our heads, feeling the ground pouring, as it melts beneath our legs, feeling the light sprawling, as we're hanging off the ledge, feeling the night calling, hear the answers in our prayers, yeah, I'm praising in your temple with my ear to get some pews, but my god is lacking, God has got us lag in view, only seeing your
You each other we consume water each other and watches your flowers start to bloom.
I drink your body get drunk off your thighs and heal your mind.
Precipice of eruption exploding from inside.
I hear the choir singing lively as you moaning wine.
Sweet as muscatto body bottle that she cur my flesh.
Feel my tongue against your neck.
Finging nails deep in my back.
Teet digging into my chest.
Existency and closing pain.
Got my mind feaning.
The world could crush around as long as you and I breathe in.
This episode is brought to you by an espresso.
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Viarai, the voice that we love.
Very informative. So remember to carry an umbrella around this week.
The time has come, children. It is time for me to read the latest revelation from our God.
Shoot! It's eight now. I gotta 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 anyone about it because it had these dark stains on it and frankly I don't want to know.
Some money I took from Marcus Vanston's house after he died.
He's not going to miss it.
The National Community Radio Fund.
The Honto Car Worship Committee.
The good folks at the Shrieking Elms Retirement Home.
I understand they held a bake sale.
Oh, no, I misread that.
It was a bank sale.
They were the joint owners of the last bank of Night Vale,
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 a fraud 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 sun wearing sunglasses
and then one of a ballerina covering her face and shame,
and 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 one.
You can try to have other gods before me,
but you're going to look real silly when I destroy.
all the other gods, and you were busy following one of the losers.
Rule two, no forks. Can't say why, just stop using forks.
Rule three, 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 five, 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.
Planets 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 everyone aboard is dead, and everyone at their destination is dead.
But the spaceship flies dumbly on, following instructions encoded 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 six, blood, mud, or spuds, nobody rides for free.
And finally, our God's seventh 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,
so it was always nice to hear his thin, cruel voice whistling out in the dark hours.
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 will be past
nautical 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 broadcast at this station.
None of my business, I'm sure. Good twilight night veil.
Good twilight.
Welcome to Nightvale as a production of Nightvale Presents.
It is written by Joseph Fink, Jeffrey Cranner, and Bree Williams.
Sound design and production by Dysp by Dyspiration.
The voice of Harrison Kipp is Jeffrey Kraner.
The voice of Deb is Meg Bashwinner.
The voice of Night Vale is Cecil Baldwin.
Original music by Dysperition.
All of it can be found at Dysperition.net.
This episode's weather is Night Calling.
by Who is Raphael Leroux.
Produced by Petricor.
Find out more at the link in our show notes.
Comments, questions, email us at info at welcome to nightbale.com.
Or follow us on blue sky at nightvail radio.
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Or slip into something a little bit more comfortable, like a big sleeping bag.
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that is the best way to keep up-to-date
directly from us to you.
Beep, beep, go the computers.
And then, hey, a new email
from your friends over at Welcome to Nightmail.
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.
Are you squeamish about horror movies,
but kind of want to know what happens?
Or are you a horror lover
who likes thoughtful conversation
about your favorite genre?
Join me, Jeffrey Kraner and my friend from Welcome to Nightville, Cecil Baldwin,
for our weekly podcast, Random Number Generator Horror Podcast Number Nine,
where we watch and discuss horror movies in a random order.
Find, here's the short version, Random Horror Nine, wherever you get your podcasts.
Boo.
