100 - Toast

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 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, 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 welcometonightvelle.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 US plus Toronto tours right now at welcometonightveld.com/slash live.

And hey,

see you soon.

Once upon a mundane morning, Barbs Day got busy without warning.

A realtor in need of an open house sign, no, 50 of them and designed before nine.

My head hurts.

Any mighty tools to help with this punt?

Aha!

Barb made her move.

She opened Canva and got in the groove.

Both creating Canva sheets.

Create 50 signs fit for suburban streets.

Done in a click, all complete.

Sweet.

Now, imagine what your dreams can become when you put imagination to work at canva.com.

I know many of you have a few things you'd like to say, so let me start things off.

Welcome to Night Vale.

Hi, folks.

Leonard Burton here, host of Nightvale Community Radio.

Or I was once.

I'm not anymore.

Anyway,

I appeared suddenly at this microphone holding a champagne flute, so I suppose I must be giving a toast.

Congratulations!

En voyage.

I'm excited about the new baby, the brand new career,

the graduation, your hundredth birthday, whatever is being celebrated.

Whatever time is being marked.

Well done!

You've done it!

Or are about to.

What is this party anyway?

Cecil, is that you?

Why, you don't look a day older than

when you first started working for me.

You know what's delicious?

Mice.

I found out recently I'm allergic, though, so if you've been noticing more mice in your house, it's because I get a rash whenever I eat them.

Sorry.

Everyone's staring at me now.

Oh, and Teddy Williams just fainted.

Acting like he's never seen an old woman without a face holding a glass of Merlot on a microphone.

Whom do you think refolds all of your dollar bills into origami origami spiders and staples them to your ceiling while you sleep, Teddy?

Whom?

This is good wine.

What?

Don't look shocked.

Can't an old woman without a face take a drink of wine without public judgment?

Just because I don't have a mouth.

Oh, I've spilled it all down my dress.

Never mind, that's just blood.

What was I saying?

Sorry about the mice infestations everywhere.

Maybe if it's such a bother for you, you could eat them yourselves.

Like I said, they're delicious.

Not super flavorful.

It's more about the texture, I guess.

Anyway, your future will be filled with love and joy.

I can say that much.

I don't mean it, but I can say it.

Wow, that's really good.

Cheers.

I,

uh, I'm Diane Creighton.

I'm very sorry to cut this short.

I have to go.

Josh has a dance recital tonight.

He grew several extra legs just for this recital.

He would be so disappointed.

This is great.

It's great.

I'm sorry, Josh is getting impatient.

I know because he always grows horns when he's impatient.

Cheers, everyone.

Hi, folks.

I'm John Peters.

You know, the farmer?

Oh,

yes, John, we always know.

You're a farmer.

We get it.

Oh, okay, Sheriff.

I'm happy to be here.

Happy to be anywhere.

As a farmer, I have to think a lot about statistics.

For instance, statistically, the world is unlikely to have happened.

And so, as a pragmatic fellow, I have to assume that it didn't.

And that what I'm experiencing is a manifestation of my own denial about the ghastly nothing that surrounds me.

To sum up, congratulations.

Great party I'm imagining here.

Hi, I'm Deb, a sentient patch of haze, and I'm here to give a toast on behalf of Ritz Crackers.

You know how you humans have hands because you're mentally weak and unable to lift objects with your mind?

And you know how you might accidentally jam your hand against something, and a finger might bend painfully back, back so far that the bone snaps?

A gunshot within your own body?

Pain.

Unbelievable pain.

But before the agony, first comes the simple, clean snap.

Separation.

Pop.

Ritz crackers.

When you think Ritz, think about breaking your finger.

Also, congratulations.

This seems like a pitifully mortal affair.

Hello, Night Vale.

If you are seeing this, then there must be some sort of party going on that I am not at.

I prepared this video from present in case there might be a future party that I can't get to.

Or that I wasn't invited to.

Because I don't think anyone truly likes it.

Enough self-pity!

We find meaning within ourselves without waiting for meaning to be assigned to us.

And if anyone doesn't like it, we burn them alive!

Right, right.

And also, congratulations to whoever this party we're not at is for.

Whatever reason you're having a party, good job on that.

I'm glad it happened.

I can't state an emotional response to an event that is still unknown to me, but there is a high probability that I would be happy about this party.

Yes, except if you're hearing this, then I am not at the party, which means there is a higher probability that I am not happy about it.

Okay, great.

Violet, anything you want to add?

I don't trust recorded communication.

You never know what the government will do with it.

I'll just say congratulations the next time I see everyone.

Okay, then.

Cheers, y'all.

Happiness is pretty popular, I guess.

Everyone's always trying to be happy, so I don't really want to be happy.

But I am, and it's fine, I guess.

Once I ironically went to a Katy Perry concert, but ended up having a great time, especially the finale where she peeled off all her skin and proclaimed that beauty is right here.

And then she pulled out her own heart and swatted it like a beach ball ball toward her backup dancers.

But then I found out James Blake used to do the same thing at his shows, so...

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is

this is nice.

Or whatever.

You're nice.

Good job attempting to be happy.

Yeah, I agree with Michelle.

I tried to be happy once when I was 13, just to prove a point.

I only made it a couple of weeks and I gave up when I found out that other people were copying me.

I'm happy now.

Happy I'm here.

Also, I'm not mad anymore.

No one asked Maureen.

Geez.

That's not true though.

I asked.

I asked myself, Maureen, are you still angry?

And then I answered that question out loud just now.

Anyway, we're cool, okay?

Ugh, did you just say cool?

No.

Hello.

I am Maggie Pennebaker and this is my husband, Donald Pennebaker.

If you'd like a joke at the start of this toast, press one.

That's just some telephone menu humor.

Now, most of you have probably spoken to us at some point or another when you've called any of your local services and gone through our telephone tree.

But today isn't about us, it's about a celebration of love.

Here's to you.

Here's to love.

Here's to our town in which love happens.

All of your electric bills are due immediately.

Failure to pay might result in a meteor strike.

Have a great party, everyone.

Hi,

all you beautiful, happy people.

Unfortunately, I couldn't be there because I was told that if I try to enter Night Vale, you will all attack me.

And while that is very welcoming, I'm just too busy in desert bluffs too.

But I'm sending this tape to congratulate you.

Congratulations!

Oh, for those that don't know me, I'm Kevin.

And I'm Lauren.

Oh, yes.

Lauren Mallard is here too.

Remember her?

Well, most of you might remember me as your boss when Strexcorp owned your little town.

I've spent the last couple of years dry-lipped and starving and wandering an endless looping desert otherworld before stumbling here on this town that is just like the town I once lived in.

And we are tickled to have you here, Lauren.

Especially once I explain to you that I'm in charge now.

Not Strex Corp.

I'm in charge

and happy to do it.

Yes, yes, it took some

explaining.

But I do understand that now.

Well, we won't take up any more of your time.

I know that your hearts must be bursting with joy right now.

And nothing makes us happier than bursting hearts.

Boom!

No, there you go.

We just wanted to send you this video of us smiling.

Yes, Night Vale, watch us smile.

What are they doing?

I've never seen a living thing do that.

Turn that off.

Turn that tape recorder off right.

Hi, Melanie Pennington here.

I don't know who any of you are, but it seems like a good time to say, um,

yay!

You seem so happy.

So that's good, I think.

People can be happy for nefarious reasons, I suppose, so I should temper my comfort a bit.

Anyway, while sitting through whatever strange ceremony we just sat through, I fixed some of the bugs in one of my first programming projects.

See?

Welcome to human joy.

I am computer.

I brought you a gift.

The computer is printing out a picture of a gift-wrapped box.

Thanks, Computer.

You are welcome, Melanie.

I just want to add that I'm so happy for this day and so very proud of you both.

It's been a real honor to help cater this event.

I hope you like the cake.

I made it from scratch using farm fresh cream, eggs, red snapper, and ground cumin.

Thank you, person next to me.

I don't remember your name.

It's Earl Harlan.

Melanie, we came to this together.

We've been friends for years.

Computer simulates happiness for humanity.

Okay, shutting you down now.

Hi, I'm sure most of you know me.

No, Basima, you're the best.

Unless you mean it unarmed combat, then I'm the best.

Given the occasion, I thought it might be nice to read a passage from one of my favorite books.

This is Sonnet 43 from Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Sonnet from the Portuguese.

How do I love thee?

Let me count the ways.

I love thee when thou bringest coffee in bed or suggest that we go to brunch instead.

I eat French toast, but take bites of thine eggs, like,

oh dude, I love thee with so much grace and praise and poise and style and pizzazz,

each day's most quiet need and all that jazz.

Love thee just as much as I love the cave, that cave in our yard from which voices sound, demanding all our smiles, tears, and breath.

When the voices speak, time goes all unwound.

Merciful cave, we grovel, offer flesh.

We will enter the cave, crawl underground.

I shall but love thee better after death.

A famous love poem, but for good reason.

May you never forget that at the heart of any strong relationship, there is a cave.

A cave you will both someday crawl into and never be heard from again.

Cheers.

Cheers.

It is such a big day.

As mayor, I declare that today is a big day.

I always knew today would come.

Just look at any calendar and you can see every single day that will come.

They're all laid out right there.

For a long time, I thought I wouldn't get to see today in person, but here I am.

Our time and our place matching here within the simple geometry of a monthly planner.

The city council sends their regards as well.

Before I left, they glowered and glowed, and I could hear a soft growl.

Not the growl of madness or of being mad, it was the kind of growl you hear from rainwater drains along the curbs late at night.

A sweet, caring growl.

Also, our director of emergency press conferences, Pamela, came too.

She wanted to wish you the best.

Yes, thank you, Mayor Cardinal.

People of Nightvale, people below Nightvale, and all of the people prepositionally existing somewhere.

I I am here to tell you that the planets are all wrong.

I have spent weeks staring into the sky and I can tell you the planets are all wrong.

Misaligned, sure, but more than that, they are so small.

Planets should not be that small.

Thank you for listening.

Be safe, Night Vale.

What Pamela means is congratulations.

I refuse to congratulate anything that is not the right size.

Oh, sorry, everyone.

I'm being told we need to move this inside because of,

well, you know, the weather.

It may not be too long, and it may all come out wrong, But I wrote you a second song eventually

It may go out of tune and it may end all too soon But I wrote you a second song eventually, eventually

Still kids when we met, we're not kids anymore

We've set sail for time's distant shore

I'm not afraid of aging, not with you by my side

Life ain't long but it is wide

So it may have a couple faults But I wrote you this little waltz Yes, I wrote you a second song eventually

And it still could fall apart But at least it had a start

Cause I wrote you a second song eventually

Eventually

travel so much that nowhere feels like home except the home that we've made in our bones.

And you know that I know that we know the way.

Go hand in hand into each day

from our bed without lifting our heads

La da da da da da da da

Mountains and stars, drifting snow, no cars

La da da da da da da da

La da da da da da da da

I don't know what is next,

but I know what is now

Taking all joy life allows

Took six years to write this, but just say the word Tomorrow I'll write you a third

It may come out all wrong and it may not be too long But I wrote you a second song eventually

It may go out of tune and it's gonna end really soon But I wrote you a second song eventually, eventually.

I don't have song enough to say.

You've changed my life in every way.

But I wrote you a second song eventually,

eventually.

You chose to hit play on this podcast today.

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yeah sure whatever i have nearly infinite powers so it's pretty basic helping you to a mic no need to brag

okay

well

cecil i remember when you finally grew old enough to join the bowling team who's this kid think he is we all thought and you have to be honest with yourself you weren't that good at the time

but you were friendly and entertaining to talk to.

Sometimes it's more important to have delightful people around you than it is to succeed at some arbitrary goal you've given yourself.

That's one of the many things I've learned on my way from Little Josie Ortiz to Old Woman Josie.

And speaking of delightful people, Carlos,

you might not have noticed, but we're suspicious of newcomers around here.

We tend to point and shout, Interloper!

But you understood that people are just silly about change.

And the older we get, the sillier about change we get.

Carlos, you are a delightful person.

I don't know how much longer I have.

I guess none of us do, except those of us who peaked at our death date in the Hall of Public Records.

But I lived long enough to see you two on this day.

I surrounded myself with delightful people.

You can't hope for a better life than that.

Erica, help me down from here.

They're tired of listening to an old woman talk.

They all want to eat cake.

Erica!

Yeah, okay, I'm coming.

Whatever.

I'm gonna get emotional, but I'll try to hold it together.

You know, Cecil and I first met at one of these things.

Seems like we should have met earlier than that.

I had dated his sister for a while.

But Cecil is busy.

He serves his community.

He really gives himself to his community.

Who do you live for, you know?

Who do you give yourself to?

Those are questions we should all be asking ourselves.

There are many questions we should all be asking ourselves.

Question everything, I guess, would be my main advice.

Oh, the sheriff is making throat-cutting gestures to me, indicating I should stop talking about that.

And also to threaten that they'll cut my throat if I keep going.

Sorry, Sam!

And Carlos.

Unlike most of us, you don't tell yourself a story of what you want the world to be.

You wait for the world to tell you what it is.

And then you take it as it reveals itself to you.

What a rare and precious gift.

When I met you, I could tell you saw me for me, not for any stories you had been told about me.

I love you, Carlos.

And I love you, Cecil.

We don't always see it eye to eye, but more and more, we have stood shoulder to shoulder, members of the same family.

I'm getting teary-eyed.

I said I would.

To Cecil and Carlos, I'm proud to be able to call you family.

I said once that a home is just a grouping of objects connected by a shared personal experience of time,

which was just a fancy way of really just asking you to move in with me, and

it worked.

But I wasn't wrong, and I know now that a relationship is just a grouping of moments connected by that same shared personal experience of time.

What it means to make a life together is to take the experience of two different lives and choose to interpret them as a single shared narrative.

So, in other words, changing the story about you, or the story about me, into a story about us.

Do you remember before the throat surgery when I sounded like this?

Science is neat.

Well, science is neat, and I still believe that.

But I know now that a lot of things are neat.

Having a quiet breakfast with another person is neat.

Calling someone over to experience a particularly noisy sunset is neat.

This town is neat.

Night Vale is neat.

Love is neat.

Love is very neat, actually.

And

you are neat.

That first night when we sat on the trunk of my car and looked at the lights above the Arby's, when we got up to leave, I looked at you and I tried to think of how to say everything I was feeling, but I've never really been good at describing feelings.

I'm only good at describing facts and love, love isn't a fact.

You know, love, it's a hunch at first, and then later it's a series of decisions, a lifetime of decisions.

That's love.

And

I didn't know how to express that.

And so I just said, I'm glad I decided to call you.

And now,

tonight, I say I'm glad again for this decision and all the decisions that will come every day after.

Which is to say,

scientifically speaking, of course, speaking from the point of view of mere facts and logic and, you know,

what with this science and all,

I just thought that it was time for us to make a life together.

I guess it's my turn now.

Um,

it's funny, I make my living speaking to you all, and now I'm up here, and I don't quite know what to say.

In the last few years, we have experienced truly terrifying things and wonderful things.

We have lost our town and regained our town.

We have met new people.

We have met incredible new people.

I don't have to tell you that Carlos has perfect hair and teeth like a military cemetery.

You have eyes, most of you.

Sorry, faceless old woman.

I don't need to tell you that his voice is oaky or that his enthusiasm about science is inspiring and also deeply erotic.

So instead, I will tell you this.

It hasn't always been an easy few years,

but through it all, just

knowing that Carlos was there, that no matter what else happened, we would come back to each other, holding hands like two kids flirting on a first date, that's what kept me believing in this town.

My love for Nightvale and my love for Carlos

are the same love.

It is the love of someone who has given their life completely to something beyond themselves.

I once described Nightvale as a friendly desert community.

where the sun is hot, the moon is beautiful, and mysterious lights pass overhead while we all pretend to sleep.

And it still is.

I know, nowhere friendlier.

I know nowhere hotter.

The moon is still beautiful.

Mysterious lights still pass overhead.

And Carlos,

I can't wait for every night I get to pretend to sleep next to you.

Um, whew!

That's it for the party.

Thanks to everyone who came and all the kind things you said.

Stay tuned next for a drunk, newly married couple long after the well-wishers have left, piling up bags of garbage and stacking chairs in a rented banquet hall because they want to get their deposit back.

Good night.

Oh, yes, thanks, Lacey.

And good night, Night Vale, and every person who can hear my voice.

Good

night.

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

It is written by Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Kraner and produced by Joseph Fink.

The voice of Night Vale is Cecil Baldwin.

The voices you heard today were James Urbaniak, Mara Wilson, Annie Savage, Mark Gagliarti, Emma Franklin, Meg Bashwiner, who also has been saying these credits to you for 100 episodes or so.

It's me,

Jackson Public, Kate Jones, Maureen Johnson, Erica Livingston, Christopher Lohr, Kevin R.

Free,

Lauren Sharp, Felicia Day, Molly Quinn, Fred, the OS computer voice, Will Wheaton, Symphony Sanders, Allie Chan, Josica Nicole, Desiree Birch, Mark Evan Jackson, Reta, Hal Lublin, Dylan Marin, Jeffrey Craner, and Flore Delees Perez.

Original music by Dispirition.

All of it can be found at disparition.info.

Gret disparition.bandcamp.com.

This episode's weather was Second Song by Joseph Fink.

You can download it and his weather songs from the first year of Night Vale at josephfink.bandcamp.com.

Comments, questions, email us at info at welcometonightvale.com or follow us on Twitter at nightvale radio or come up with as many dog names as possible.

Check out welcometonightvale.com for more information on this show as well as to see what's new with us and check in.

And while you're there, consider clicking the donate link.

Let's make another 100 episodes.

Today's proverb, it's always darkest before the dawn.

We are often reassured by people who are totally wrong about how the sun works.

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 9, where we watch and discuss horror movies in a random order.

Find, here's the short version, Random Horror 9, wherever you get your podcasts.

Boo.