271 - The Festival

Hey hey, Jeffrey Kraner from welcome to Night Vale here.

Apart from Night Vale, we make other podcasts.

If you're already a big Night Vale fan, check out Good Morning Night Vale, where cast members Meg Bashwiner, Symphony Sanders, and Hal Lublin break down each and every episode.

Or if you're looking for more weird fiction, there's Within the Wires, an immersive fiction podcast written by me and novelist Janina Mathewson.

Each season is a standalone tale told in the guise of found audio.

Finally, maybe you like horror movies or are scared of horror movies but are horror curious, curious, check out Random Number Generator Horror Podcast Number 9, where me and the voice of Night Vale Cecil Baldwin talk about a randomly drawn horror film.

We have new episodes every single week.

So that's Good Morning Nightvale Within the Wires and Random Horror 9.

Go to nightvalepresents.com for more or get those podcasts wherever you get your podcasts.

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Hello, hi there.

This is Joseph Fink of welcome to Nightfail.

I'm going to try to just do this one off the dome.

We just got back from the road.

We took out our new show, Murder Night in Blood Forest, all over the Northeast and parts of the Midwest.

And it was so much fun.

This show turns out to be an absolute blast in the room.

You know, we take these things out.

You never know until you get in front of people what exactly it's going to do.

And this one has turned out to just be an incredibly fun one to perform, an incredibly fun one to have in the room.

We are back from that tour, but do not worry, we go out again soon, September 9th, starting out in State College, Pennsylvania, which I think is basically Philadelphia, question mark.

And then we are going to all sorts of locations in September, in October, and then in January in the West.

So you still have plenty of opportunities to see this live show with incredible live music guests like Adult Mom and Erin McYeon.

Frankly, the live shows are where I feel like Nightville is the most Nightville.

Like we really put the heart of what we do into these live shows, telling these stories in a room where we're all physically together.

It feels great.

And also Cecil Baldwin and Timothy Sanders rule live.

You should see them do that.

All right, buy tickets at welcometonightville.com slash live and know that I love you personally, you.

I love you.

And hey, thanks.

Don't count your chickens before they hatch.

You never know what's going to come out of those eggs.

Welcome to Night Vale.

You're soaring above the desert as the sunset unfolds dramatically across an expanse of rock formations and sand.

A lens flare turns everything golden, then white, like a nuclear blast.

In slow motion, a supermodel sitting on the hood of a vintage convertible takes off their sunglasses and laughs for no reason, nodding and beckoning to you with their almost reptilian eyes.

Hypnotic synthesizer beats pulse as glow sticks and white smiles flash in the dark.

On-screen text reads, push the boundaries of experience.

Dune buggies careen over the sun-baked earth.

They are packed with supermodels, each holding a different breed of puppy.

No one seems to be driving.

Everyone is laughing hysterically, having the most fun of their entire lives.

They're They're laughing so hard their eyes are nearly swollen shut, their faces streaked with tears and dirt.

On-screen text reads, Join us in a remote desert oasis.

A time-lapse video shows a makeshift city being built, a place of precarious stone towers and mud sculptures and rusted metal contraptions.

Hundreds more supermodels stampede toward you, slamming tiki drinks down their gullets and screaming, their frothing mandibles open wide, their sun-kissed thoraxes gyrating, and their eyes changing color in the shifting light.

On-screen text reads, The festival is

here.

Then, GPS coordinates corresponding to the dead center of the Night Vale sand wastes.

Listeners, I know many of you have seen this video and have the same questions I do.

I'm here today today to hopefully find the answers to those questions, but so far, we only know two things for sure.

One,

some kind of festival has chosen Nightvale as its host city without informing any of the town officials or residents, and two,

it seems to be happening soon.

Judging by the hordes of strangers wearing elaborate outfits and camping backpacks that are currently being dropped off by the busload at the Estes truck stop on Route 800.

More on this story as it develops.

In other news, Dark Owl Records is hosting a vinyl listening party on Saturday.

Vinyl is the only format worth listening to, store owner Michelle Wynn proclaimed in her public invitation.

It has a richness and texture that you don't get from your little MP3s or whatever.

Do you even stop to think what your songs on Spotify are made of?

Nothing.

Less than air.

No substance whatsoever.

You're practically imagining them.

Michelle continued.

Come down to Dark Owl this weekend for a dose of sonic reality.

We will provide an array of scratching implements, including nails, screwdrivers, knives, files, chisels, and ice picks, so you can experience all the pops, shrieks, and skips that real music is supposed to have.

These sounds prove that the music you're listening to has a physical form and isn't some disembodied trickster.

Digital songs are ghosts.

If you want to listen to a hollow shell of a corpse,

go ahead.

But if you want to listen to the obscure Icelandic black metal band Hollow Shell of a Corpse, then come down to Dark Owl this weekend and we will give you that record on vinyl and provide you with a potato peeler so you can really get in there and find the music.

Because music is not about the melody or the instruments or the vocals.

It's about the imperfect changing nature of a physical medium.

So put down your airy little perfect nothing songs that you can just play over and over with no consequences whatsoever and wake up.

Vinyl is reality.

And reality is effing physical, you babies.

Reality is about the damage caused by loving something too much.

Reality is about our inevitable degradation over time.

Do you think you're going to live forever or something?

Then why should your music?

Oh.

And that's the end of the invite.

No time listed.

Not sure if there's going to be snacks or drinks or anything.

Well,

either way, sounds like fun.

See everyone there.

In fast food news, Arby's is unveiling a plant-based menu to be more inclusive to our vegetarian and vegan community members.

Offerings will include soy beef hearts, mushroom tripe, and tempeh calves' liver, wheat gluten duck embryo, tofu lamb's brain, jackfruit horsemeat, lentil fish guts, fried rat's feet.

Oh, nope, sorry, that one was from the meat side of the menu.

Lots of exciting new additions for everyone.

Speaking of new additions, the influx of festival tourists has reached a fever pitch down at Estes truck stop.

The buses just keep coming, Byron Villalobos, truck stop owner, remarked in excitement.

And those kids, they're buying all kinds of things.

I'm thinking of raising my bottled water prices through the roof.

Not to mention the chips and soda, and coffee and batteries, and hats, and shampoo, and fuel.

Maybe a cover charge just to walk in the door, Byron mused, who has been waiting his whole life for a situation like this to capitalize on.

They seem to be going hard for the road flares and Halloween masks at the moment.

I think those are what I'll jack up first, he concluded, his eyes sparkling with dollar signs, which are etched into his contact lenses.

Byron then hurried off to rebrand his dusty stock of recalled energy drinks as Festival Juice.

It is still uncertain exactly what kind of festival it is and who's organizing it.

Will there be music?

Will there be art?

Is it a rave like the ones for my youth where we all gathered in a vacant warehouse and dared each other to eat large quantities of horseradish till the sun came up?

Luckily, I have found one actual Nightvale citizen who is attending the festival and can help us answer these questions and more.

Resident Shapeshifter and on-again, off-again community college student Josh Creighton is en route to the festival right now and has agreed to keep us informed with some on-the-scene reporting.

He is also unsure about what exactly is going to be happening out in the sand wastes this weekend and only bought tickets because he saw the video on social media and it seemed like, quote, I don't know, something to do, I guess.

He is currently taking the form of an out-of-towner wearing a unicorn costume in order to blend in.

More on this developing story soon.

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Now breaking news from the sand wastes.

Undercover festival informant Josh Creighton has just updated me that he has arrived at the provided GPS coordinates and things are not off to a smooth start.

There's evidence that the organizers tried to build some infrastructure, but the project seems to have been abandoned halfway through.

A partially constructed stage.

A makeshift shower building with all the boxes of plumbing hardware still sitting in the dirt.

A medic yurt with no staff inside.

A single porta potty.

Scaffolding everywhere.

It's also clear that several sinkholes opened up at some point and swallowed much of the building materials and possibly the organizers as well, which is, of course, a common occurrence in the sand wastes, and the reason why everyone brings double or triple the usual amount of supplies and crew when doing any sort of work out there.

Shortly after Josh's arrival, a Cessna business jet plummeted to its fiery end just south of the festival grounds, which caused a panic among the attendees, even though that's also a common occurrence in the sand wastes.

I mean, look around, people.

You literally cannot count the amount of charred fuselages out there.

Anyway, apparently many people started running and screaming, which has led to several attendees colliding with the venomous cacti and sustaining serious bite wounds.

At least one person has hurtled.

straight off of Skeleton Gorge.

Josh quickly dropped his out-of-towner disguise and is just being himself now, trying to act as a local representative so that he can assure the tourists that there's nothing to be alarmed about.

He has tried to tell them that the venomous cacti will not bite unless they are provoked, and that you can't fall off Skeleton Gorge if you stay at least six feet away from the edge.

And that the sentient mirages will not target you if you're hydrated enough.

And to watch out for the tumblebees because they're made of twisted metal from all the airplane wreckage and they'll slice you up real good if they brush past you.

He says most people are not listening to him and in fact seem to be afraid of him too.

I'm just trying to get everyone to calm down so we can get this party started and have a fun, chill time like in the video, Josh told me via voice note, sounding disappointed.

Sorry to hear things are off to a bumpy start out there, Josh.

Hopefully it will even out soon and you can still have a great weekend.

Keep us posted.

Now a letter to the editor.

Dear Cecil, this is in response to the fake meat they're selling down at the Arby's.

Vegetarians and the likes say killing cows for food is cruel.

Well, did you ever think that if we didn't breed cows for food, then less cows would be born.

Denying a creature's entire existence sounds more cruel than letting them live and turning them into meat patties later on.

I'd be proud to end up as a meat patty.

Sign me up, Buckaroo!

In conclusion, I like eating beef, and the fact that there's an option to eat something other than beef is personally insulting to me.

Personally.

I propose stopping the sale of fake meat products immediately as it is discriminatory to carnivores.

The existence of vegetarians in general is judgmental of my lifestyle.

I would like that to stop also.

Signed, an anonymous, you know, farmer.

Thank you for the letter, Anonymous.

I have it on good authority that Arby's, as a singular corporate consciousness, does listen to our show, and I'm sure they'll consider your viewpoint.

Now, back to Josh in the sand wastes.

Here, let me me just play his latest voice text.

Well, she just rolled up.

Her 2023 Hyundai Ionic looks super good, by the way.

She did a great job restoring it.

So, I thought she was gonna like try to help calm everyone down since she's the town founder and everything, but she looks pretty hungry today.

And a lot of people are doubled over on the ground after drinking the the bottled water, because I guess our water can make people sick if you haven't grown up drinking it and built up an immunity to it and everything.

Anyway, a lot of them look like they want to run away, but they can only writhe around in the sand.

I'm gonna go ahead and turn myself into a creosote bush so she doesn't come after me and I can keep an eye on things.

Okay,

there we go.

Okay, she's approaching the crowd.

She's making those weird cooing sounds she makes and cocking her head back and forth, which is never a good sign.

Yeah, she's starting to do that thing where she opens up her jaws real big.

Damn, she looks really hungry today.

Thanks for the update, Josh.

Hope to hear from you again soon.

While we wait, let's go to the weather.

Stretching in and wondering where it is I'll be going.

Paths of common creates new visions of what I've been wanting.

Torturing my body right down to the bottom, I'm hiding.

How can I release the burdens that I'm always holding?

Oh no.

Rip me from the numbed outlines.

Fill the hells with barbed.

Let us not just watch and wait anymore.

Let it go, na-na, let it go, na-na, let it go, na-na-na.

Let it go, na-na, let it go, na-na, let it go, na-na-na.

Let it go, na-na, let it go.

Sometimes I start to wonder what the grinding grades for.

Drowning in the thunder,

blind to what went wrong.

I won't let them tell me

the pain was meant to kill.

When light embraces darkness,

the feeling is a swear

alone.

Every time I start to think, and yeah, I start to wonder

how can I live a life on a road that's higher

dancing on the pavement, watching the rain start rolling.

Every time I hear the truth, yeah, I begin to whisper.

Oh, don't

rip me from the numbed out lines.

Fill the house with borrowed time.

Let us not just watch and wait anymore.

Let it go, man.

Let it go, man.

Let it go, na-na-na.

Let it go, na-na, let it go, na-na-na, let it go, na-na-na.

Let it go, na-na, let it go.

Sometimes I start to wonder what the grinding grit is for.

Drowning out the thunder,

blind to what went wrong.

I wanna let them tell me the pain was meant to kill.

The light and waves is darkness.

The feeling is a swell.

Let me say it again, let me say it again.

Throughout

my years, that have

come to pass.

Pray in this darkness, woe less

throughout

my years that have come to pass.

Praise this darkness woolen

of my years that have

come to pass.

Praise this darkness woe less.

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I've just been talking with Josh Creighton, and you'll all be relieved to know that things have turned around for the better out there since we last heard from him.

All the out-of-towners have either been eaten by our ravenous founder, Tabitha Littlefield, or succumbed to their various injuries and ailments.

That in itself isn't the good news, of course, it's merely the neutral news that paves the way for the good news.

Once the bloodbath ended, and Tabitha drove away, barely able to squeeze into her Ionic after feasting so hard, Josh was about to call the weekend quits.

He reported being, quote, bummed about the whole thing.

As he turned back from a creosote bush into the form of a young man in glasses and khaki shorts, he spotted movement behind the smoking wreckage of the Cessna.

At first, he thought it was one of the sentient mirages sensing that he was low on electrolytes, but he saw that it was actually a human being.

A young woman, big and tall and powerful looking.

She wore a safari vest and a red bandana and a muscle tee featuring Percy's the Greek god of destruction, and her face was covered in soot, the sole survivor of the Out-of-Towners.

She grimaced as they walked toward each other.

Wonder if we can get our money back, she said.

Josh asked her where she was from, and she told him she couldn't remember.

Once she entered the city limits, she said, she seemed to forget a lot of things about the past.

Oh, that's normal, Josh said.

That's good, she said.

I thought it was weird, but now that you say it's normal, it seems totally okay.

Josh wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic or sincere, but he liked it either way.

He was about to offer her a ride back to town when another vehicle appeared on the horizon.

It was an old school bus with festival spray-painted across the side, and it was filled with people and musical gear.

A band started to sit up amidst the half-eaten bodies and smoldering heaps of debris.

Josh recognized them immediately.

It was the extracurricular project of some of the culinary students at the community college, a French cookery-themed hardcore band called Krusty Baguette.

Josh was super into them, and shows were rare.

Hey, they're pretty good, said the woman in the red bandana, nodding along as the band began to play their first song, Creep Suzette.

Totally, Josh said.

And as far as I know, Josh and his new out-of-towner friend are still out there, enjoying the music and making the most of their festival weekend.

So it seems like everything is just fine after all this, and the whole thing wasn't a huge disaster that some of us predicted.

Sometimes things do work out against all odds.

Stay tuned for a special announcement from Byron Villalobos about the big sale down at Estes Truck Stop with prices slashed to almost normal.

Good night, Nightvale.

Good night.

Welcome to Night Vale is a production of Night Vale Presents.

It is written by Joseph Fink, Jeffrey Kraner, and Bree Williams.

Sound design and production by Disparition.

The voice of Josh Creighton was Bree Williams.

The voice of Nightvale is Cecil Baldwin.

Original music by Disparition.

All of it can be found at disparition.net.

This episode's weather was Stretching Thin by Mad Woman.

Find out more at the link in our show notes.

Comments, questions, email us at info at welcometonightvale.com or follow us on Blue Sky at Nightvale Radio or on Instagram, Tumblr, and TikTok at Nightvale Official.

Or call your representative and ask them to, you know, stop doing all that, please.

But mainly check out welcometonightvale.com, where we have a twice-monthly mailing list that is the best way to keep up to date directly from us to you.

Today's proverb: once bitten, twice shy, twice bitten, quadruple shy,

thrice bitten, sextuple shy, and so on.

I'm Amy Nicholson, the film critic for the LA Times.

And I'm Paul Scheer, an actor, writer, and director.

You might know me from the League Veep or my non-eligible for Academy Award role in Twisters.

We love movies, and we come at them from different perspectives.

Yeah, like Amy thinks that, you know, Joe Pesci was miscast in Goodfellas, and I don't.

He's too old.

Let's not forget that Paul thinks that Dune 2 is overrated.

It is.

Anyway, despite this, we come together to host Unschooled, a podcast where we talk about good movies, critical hits, fan favorites, must-season, and case you missed them.

We're talking Parasite the Home Alone, From Greece to the Dark Knight.

We've done deep dives on popcorn flicks, we've talked about why Independence Day deserves a second look, and we've talked about horror movies, some that you've never even heard of, like Kanja and Hess.

So if you love movies like we do, come along on our cinematic adventure.

Listen to Unspooled wherever you get your podcasts.

And don't forget to hit the follow button.

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 LA Noir-style mystery set in the outskirts of present-day Los Angeles.

Unlicensed follows two unlicensed private investigators whose 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 three 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.