251 - Detours

Did you know that Nightfall is not just a podcast, it's also books?

That's right.

It's like movies for your ears, but in written word form.

We have four script collections that are fully illustrated with behind-the-scenes intros for every single episode.

And then we have three novels.

The first Welcome to Nightfall novel, in which two women have their lives turned upside down by a mysterious man in a tan jacket.

We reveal the origin of that, the man man in the tan jacket in that one.

Then the New York Times best-selling thriller, It Devours, in which we really try to get to the bottom of a certain smiling god.

Finally, my favorite, the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home.

Part Pirate Adventure, Part Haunted House, all Faceless Old Woman.

Find the three novels and four script books wherever you get books.

Okay,

enjoy this episode of a podcast.

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Life is not about the destination.

It's about avoiding the destination at all costs welcome to night vale

Buckle up listeners today I'm not broadcasting to you from down at the station.

I'm broadcasting to you from out in the world, via a little radio transmitting device and headset that I picked up at the Arlo DeCardna's estate sale last weekend.

Big shout out to Arlo.

Thanks so much for posthumously selling me your stuff.

And thanks also for giving your life to save us from those wasp mountain goat minotaur looking things.

What were those even?

Where did they come from?

Are there more?

Anyway, RIP pal.

So, this device has a single watt signal which normally only reaches about two to three miles, but thanks to the inordinate amount of satellites constantly passing overhead, it actually bounces around town pretty well.

As many of you heard me testing out on Saturday night with an improvised stand-up set about how my swamp cooler is full of scorpions again and how super hilarious that is.

Which was not in any way a passive aggressive message meant for Will Barka of Barka's pest removal, who keeps rescheduling our extermination appointment due to his overwhelming calendar and incapacitating arachnophobia.

Speaking of pest removal, there's a fresh heap of roadkill on the corner of Fifth and Shea, in case anyone from the sanitation department is listening.

Right between the Ace Hardware and the Hazy Mirage tanning salon, kind of half in the street and half half in the alley.

I can't tell what kind of animal it was.

Maybe one of the monsters Arlo killed?

I don't know.

But it's wearing a blood-soaked Argyle sweater vest and is approximately human-sized.

I gotta say, it's exciting to be out here where the action's happening in real time.

Instead of relying on secondhand reports and looking out the window and trying to imagine what the local news might be.

Now I'm really living the news and bringing it to you as it happens.

Theoretically, nothing's really happening out here, per se, but don't worry, I won't just be walking around town all night cataloging Roadkill like they do on Pod Save America.

Boring.

I do have a special adventure planned for us that I'll tell you about as soon as I get to the headlines.

In international news, there is a dark planet of awesome size.

It is lit by no sun and covered by black forests, jagged mountains, and turbulent oceans.

Its howling depths are void of all life.

Nothing nests in the barren branches or finds shelter amid the vertical peaks.

The wind is endless thunder, echoing across chasms.

Nothing can be seen on any horizon from any vantage point.

It is more of a feeling place than a seeing place.

The feelings are the astonishment of terror, the wonder and reverence of vertigo, the sensation of tumbling over and over and over as if caught in a cosmic spin cycle, acid indigestion, upset tummy, a hunger that can't be satisfied, deja vu,

Presca-vu, jamais vu,

oblivion.

The enormous abyss of an empty world falls through space free of orbits or gravities.

It cannot be located or visited, but everyone will see it one day.

Or, at the very least, everyone will feel it.

In local news, the Greater Nightville Area has an exciting new transportation service.

In the past, we have only known the term taxicab to be short for taxidermied cabbage.

But now, thanks to the vision of a small business called Detour, which I believe is French for of towers, there is an alternate definition for taxicab, a car that you can hire to take you places.

This concept was created by Ryan LaFleur, the freshly adult son of tourism board director Madeleine LaFleur, in response to her insistence that he, quote, do something with his life.

Mom was really getting on my back, Detour CEO Ryan LaFleur muttered at a press conference when asked about the inspiration for his entrepreneurship.

Besides the standard ride model, there will also be a driverless option which employs the ghosts of dead cab drivers to operate vehicles using completely invisible otherworldly powers.

We wanted to take a stand against discrimination of the non-living in the workplace, which we're seeing far too much of these days, company spokesperson and the CEO's best friend, Kayla Spano said, stepping in for Ryan as he got bored and drifted away from the press conference.

Plus, we're also committed to the environment and we're pretty sure it uses some kind of green energy, she concluded.

Detour is currently hiring, with applications open to all citizens and interlopers who have a clean DMV record and any ghosts who did not die from at-fault auto accidents.

This story brings me to the special adventure I promised you all earlier.

Being on the forefront of local happenings, I, of course, signed up to be part of the beta test group for the new driverless taxis.

And I was just approved to hail rides via the Detour app, all hail.

So I thought, since I have this new remote broadcasting setup, Why not bring everyone in town along with me on my very first driverless ride?

Let's see, I'll I'll just put my location in here, Fifth and Shea,

and

where do we want to go, listeners?

Maybe a short ride since we're just testing things out.

How about, oh, the pancake house?

That's only a few blocks away and the high school art club has been painting a mural on the outside that I've been meaning to check out.

It's supposed to depict the dawn of time, with the phrase, living things arise from lifeless matter, written across the length of the building in Mary and Berry syrup.

Okay,

pancake house.

There we go.

It says it's matching me with a car.

Ooh, this is exciting.

And we have a match.

Zerphath will be picking me up in a red Nissan Versa.

Of course, I won't be able to interact with or see the phantasmic energy that's operating the vehicle, but there's still an ID picture here for some reason.

That's a nice personal touch, I guess.

It's a grainy black and white photo from inside an empty house, looking out a broken window at an expanse of sun-cracked desert.

The flower pattern curtains are old and faded.

Outside, a shadow stretches across the ground.

It has long, spindly legs and a bent neck.

The sky is bright white, with rolling black clouds on the horizon.

The app says it will take four minutes for Zerfath to arrive.

So while we wait for our driverless car, I'm going to connect us back to the studio for a moment where Deb, a sentient patch of haze, is ready with a word from our sponsors.

Deb, are you there?

Thanks, Cecil.

Today's show is sponsored by vending machines.

There is truly no better way to put money into a big box and have something come out, a little door.

Now conveniently located all over town, including the bank, the hospital, the mall, the lobby of the Cactus Growers Commission, blocking driveways, floating in swimming pools, falling from the sky, smashing cars, and tipped over out in the sand wastes.

Thanks to the ceaseless appearance of vending machines right now, it's easier than ever to exchange coins for novelties.

And not just coins, some of the machines are accepting trade too.

Put any object inside and a different object of a slightly lesser value comes out.

A crow feather for a kernel of corn.

A tennis ball for a loose handful of RC cola.

A live spider wolf for a scratched DVD of all the president's men.

An eye for an eye.

A tooth for a gumball.

A piece of advice for a broken wedding cake topper.

Vending machines.

You must give to receive.

Thanks, Deb.

Okay, it says the car is arriving in one minute, which is great because it's starting to rain, at least over here at Fifth and Shea.

Yes, I see it coming.

A red Nissan Versa with no one in the driver's seat.

I feel like a real nerd with how excited I am right now.

As I get older, I find that I'm more and more interested in technological innovation and trying new things.

I know that goes against the stereotype of middle-aged people being resistant to change, but maybe it comes with being married married to a scientist.

I'm getting in the car now, sliding into the back seat.

Here we go.

And closing the door.

And we're pulling away from the curb.

This is so cool.

The steering wheel is turning all by itself and I can see the gas and brake pedals being pushed.

Oh, we just stopped for a traffic light.

Wow.

It follows all the laws and everything.

Oh, and it just breaks for an armadillo.

Great reaction time.

Better than most human drivers, actually.

Also, I've never seen an armadillo in Nightmare before, so that's cool too.

It looks exactly like the picture in Esteban's illustrated encyclopedia.

Leathery armor, nine legs, skittering upside down and backwards with a red eye of Horace on its thorax.

I'll try to get a photo.

and have our intern Joseph post it on the community radio website.

Ah, it's too blurry.

Those little guys move so fast.

This is a bit strange.

We're going pretty far out of our way to get to the pancake house, like the complete opposite direction.

Maybe there's a traffic accident or something.

Probably because of the rain.

You gotta trust the process with new tech like this.

The invisible systems are always a few steps ahead of human comprehension.

Oh, looks like we're headed toward the housing development of Coyote Corners.

Nothing really out here but old tract homes.

They've added a community garden since I was here last, though, and there's a thriving crop of tumbleweeds.

Really brightens up the neighborhood.

Now we're pulling up in front of a sage-green, split-level house with peeling paint.

One of the windows is broken.

Old flower-pattern curtains flutter in the wind.

Looks like it's been vacant for a while.

And we're just

idling here.

Let me check my app.

Maybe I put in the wrong location.

No, it says we're still on the best possible route to my destination.

That's reassuring, but I have this weird urge to go inside that house.

To kneel down and pet a cat the color of a toasted marshmallow.

To play a quick scale on the piano that I know is tucked neatly into the corner of the living room, even though I can't see it from here and I definitely can't play the piano.

Well, the car door is locked anyway.

I couldn't get out even if I tried, and I'm trying quite hard.

That's also reassuring.

Must be a safety feature.

Oh, we just peeled out and we're back on the road.

Going quite a bit faster now.

And we are leaving Coyote Corners.

And we are still not going toward the pancake house.

We just got on Route 800, heading toward the open desert.

Oops, swerved a little on the wet pavement there.

Ha ha ha.

Okay, having a good time out here.

This is great.

Shoot, I'm losing my signal.

I must be getting out of range, or maybe it's this summer storm.

We better check in with the weather.

It's hard to feel invested in a race.

When you know the road can only lead to one place.

I'll never amount to anything.

Just another

failure, another disgrace.

We could run forever,

but we know how

that would fail.

They always told us

we'd end up homeless and cat and rest.

homebound and gang.

I don't wanna hear you groan about how right you were, and how

I was wrong.

Soon as I walk through the door, the lecture will start the same dance and song.

So faithful later.

But when I'm not so bitter at you,

in the end, there's

only one place I'm headed to.

Home,

where it's always cold.

Empty fields in all directions.

Home

Where the years go by right before our eyes like seconds

Home

Where it's always cold Empty fields in all directions

Home

Where the years go by right before our eyes like seconds

Home,

where it's always cold, and it feels in all directions.

Home,

where the years go by.

Right before our eyes, like psychos.

There's a place to where it feels like

time

could stand still.

We could stay there

until all our problems have passed.

Home

at last.

Hey, it's Jeffrey Kraner with a word from our sponsor.

You're on a desert island, but not a deserted island.

Someone else is there.

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In the water surrounding you, lurks a mythical beast with two large eyes and many long arms.

You're just now hearing of this beast, but you're not afraid because you don't plan to swim.

Though that water looks nice, you're good at talking yourself into things, and soon you are in the sea, frolicking and splashing.

You even squeal, thinking you're all alone.

But you forgot what I just said.

You're not alone.

Something wraps itself around you, it lifts you high in the air, waving you about at dizzying heights.

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You start to scream, but in its other tentacles are bottles of kraken black spiced rum and kraken gold spiced rum.

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It winks and tells you kraken rum is ideal for Halloween cocktails and disappears back into the dark, briny depths.

Visit the official sponsor of Welcome to Night Vale, Kraken Rum.com to release the Kraken this Halloween.

Copyright 2025, Kraken Rum Company, Kraken Rum.com.

Like the deepest sea, the Kraken should be treated with great respect and responsibility.

You chose to hit play on this podcast today.

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Listeners, I have no idea where I am right now.

But I'll get to that in a moment.

First, let me catch you up on the places I've been.

The car drove me out to the desert, but I couldn't say exactly where since it was so stormy.

The only landmark I could make out was that enormous windowless warehouse.

You know, where the glowing crates are stacked and stored for a while and then moved somewhere else.

Of course, that's not a great landmark because the warehouse itself also changes location frequently.

On the road, we saw a man who was not short motioning for us to go back the way we came.

Up in a guard tower, a man who was not tall, except of course for his position in a super tall tower, made similar turnaround motions with his hand.

My driverless car was somehow able to interpret this, and I was very impressed that it did in fact turn around as directed.

It still did not, however, take me to the pancake house.

It turned up the long winding road to Rattlesnake Rest Cemetery, which was a nice drive because the rain had finally cleared up and I got a beautiful view of the sunset over the landfill facility down below.

Unfortunately, I didn't get to see it for long because once we got to the graveyard, my taxi drove straight into an open crypt and the gates shut behind us.

Then the engine turned off and the car doors unlocked, but I couldn't move.

I felt like I was tied to something heavy, like an anchor keeping me in place.

I remembered things like birthday parties I'd never had and vacations I never went on and people I never met and things I never did.

Then the memories of these things that hadn't happened turned into little pinpoints of light that all blurred together into one hazy orb that became blinding and then went dark again.

And I suddenly felt like I was cut free from that anchor and flying upward, weightless, through a black ocean toward a surface I couldn't see.

And then

I felt nothing at all.

I sat in the dark.

for a while longer, but it seemed kinda like this was the end of my ride, so I got out of the car.

The crypt gates wouldn't budge, but I found a staircase leading to an underground tunnel.

I've now been walking for quite a while, and as I mentioned earlier, I have no idea where I am.

I did pass by a tarantula a few minutes ago, but they were so absorbed in reading Chuck Klosterman's The 90s that I did want to interrupt by asking for directions.

I hate to say this, but I'm starting to lose faith in the Detour company.

It's a great idea, but maybe too complicated to work, or maybe they're trying to do too much too soon?

I don't know.

I'm not a very satisfied customer right now.

I don't blame my driverless phantom Zeraphath or even CEO Ryan LaFleur, but something's gone wrong somewhere.

Because I really don't think I was supposed to end up down here.

There's all these freaky, ancient symbols carved carved into the walls like tildes and umlauts and semicolons

and the place is absolutely infested with armadillos.

They're not nearly as cute when they're dropping from the ceiling hissing and chittering.

Wait, I think I see a light up ahead.

Oh, I hope that means I'm coming to the end of the tunnel.

Yes, it's definitely a light.

Oh.

Oh, look at that!

that.

Listeners, I have emerged onto the street.

I'm back in town and I'm standing right in front of the glowing sign of the pancake house.

A giant neon spatula flickering with its classic slogan, all the pancakes you deserve and several more that you don't.

And the app just told me I've reached my destination.

How about that?

It does work after all.

I gotta admit, I feel pretty embarrassed that I was second-guessing the process.

Like I said, the limits of human comprehension.

It's mortifying to be a person sometimes, isn't it?

Now that I'm here, I might as well go inside and get a short stack.

Really worked up an appetite with that bonus exercise.

I guess that's green energy at work.

I officially take back all my earlier criticisms.

Le Fleurs d'Etour, four stars.

Stay tuned for the last scraps of sun sinking into the landfill, responsibly disposing of another day.

Good night, Nightvale.

Good night.

Welcome to Nightvale is a production of Nightvale Presents.

It is written by Joseph Think, Jeffrey Kraner, and Bree Williams and produced by Disparition.

The voice of Deb is Meg Bashwinner.

The voice of Night Vale is Cecil Baldwin.

Original music by Disparition.

All of it can be found at disparition.bandcamp.com.

This episode's weather was homebound and gagged by Snowden.

Find out more at snowedin.bandcamp.com.

Comments, questions, email us at info at welcometonightvale.com or follow us on Instagram and Tumblr at nightvaleofficial.

We now have a TikTok at Night Vale Official as well if you like watching short videos.

Most importantly, 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.

This is the most reliable way to hear about new stuff we are doing.

Today's proverb, a dog is a man's best friend.

An owl is a woman's best friend.

Everyone else on the gender binary gets to pick their animals.

I hear capybears are great listeners.

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 Unspooled, a podcast where we talk about good movies, critical hits, fan favorites, must-sees, and in 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 Unschooled wherever you get your podcasts.

And don't forget to hit the follow button.

Hey y'all, it is Jeffrey Kraner speaking to you from the year 2025.

And did you know that Welcome to Night Vale is back out on tour?

We are.

We're going to be up in the northeast in the Boston, New York City area, going all the way over to the upper Midwest in Minnesota.

That's in July.

You know, kind of draw a line through there and you'll kind of see the towns we'll be hitting.

We'll also be doing Philly down to Florida in September.

And we'll be going from Austin all the way up through the middle of the country into Toronto, Canada in October.

And then we'll be doing the West Coast plus the Southwest plus Colorado in January of 2026.

You can find all of the show dates at welcome to nightvale.com slash live.

Listen, this brand new live show is so much fun.

It is called Murder Night in Blood Forest, and it stars Cecil Baldwin, of course, Symphony Sanders, Sanders, me, and live original music by Disparition, and who knows what other special guests may come along for the ride.

These tours are always so much fun and they are for you, the Die Hard fan, and you, the Night Vale new kid alike.

So feel comfortable bringing your family, your partner, your co-workers, your cat, whatever.

They don't got to know what a night veil is to like the show.

Tickets to all of these live shows are on sale now at welcome to nightvale.com slash live.

Don't let time slip away and miss us when we are in your town because otherwise we will all be sad.

Get your tickets to our live U.

S.

Plus Toronto tours right now at welcome to nightveld.

com slash live.

And hey, see you soon.