87 - The Trial of Hiram McDaniels
Weather: "Cocaine" by Holy Moly (cowpunkholymoly.bandcamp.com)
Music: Disparition, disparition.info.
Logo: Rob Wilson, robwilsonwork.com.
Produced by Night Vale Presents. Written by Joseph Fink & Jeffrey Cranor. Narrated by Cecil Baldwin. More Info: welcometonightvale.com, and follow @NightValeRadio on Twitter or Facebook.
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Transcript
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, 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 Night Vale Within the Wires and Random Horror 9.
Go to nightvalepresents.com for more or get those podcasts wherever you get your podcasts.
Numbers don't lie,
but humans using numbers lie all the time.
Welcome to Night Vale.
The trial of Hiram McDaniels, five-headed dragon, former mayoral candidate, and current presumed criminal, is coming to a close.
There are only a few minor legal technicalities to get through, such as testimony from the remaining witnesses, arguments from the lawyers, and deliberation from the jury.
And then we'll finally have all that bureaucratic mess out of the way and be able to get to the verdict.
We'll be covering the trial as it continues, so stay tuned here for all your trial info.
And now for community classifieds.
Item, Big Rico's Pizza is looking for a new cashier.
Must have retail experience and be good at not talking if they know what's good for them.
No funny business.
No secret wheat speakeasies.
Why would you even bring that up?
Who have you been talking to?
To apply, look at yourself in the mirror for a long time until your face no longer seems to be your own.
Item.
Have you seen a tall shadow where no shadow should be cast?
Have you seen a person exist in two places at the same time?
Have you seen a young girl with an upside-down face?
No, you haven't.
That would be ridiculous.
Grow up.
Sincerely, Richard.
Also, if anyone's seen my wife, please let me know.
Item, lost cat.
Blindingly bright, orb-shaped.
Often visible in the sky during daylight hours.
If found, please worship.
And finally, item,
I haven't forgotten you all.
I let you live the first time.
The next time you may not be so lucky.
Love, the woman from Italy.
This has been Community Classifieds.
The Nightvale Parks Department announced that after a multi-year, $5 million repair and renovation project, the Beatrix Lohmann Memorial Meditation Zone is once again open for public use.
The meditation zone, a state-of-the-art meditation facility, was destroyed by a multi-dimensional, sentient pyramid almost four years ago.
But the Parks Department used that crisis as an opportunity to update the meditation mats, equipment, and machines.
Now you can be hooked up and meditating in no time.
And it's almost twice as efficient as before, when measured in gallons per kilowatt.
The rebuilding was funded with a simple tax levied on every school child per school day they attended.
And the construction only went three years and $4.9 million over budget.
We look forward to enjoying the new Beatrix Lohmann Memorial Meditation Zone for years to come.
Today, the mayor herself, my former intern and current friend, Dana Cardinal, took the witness stand in Hiram's trial, the final witness in the trial of the century.
She looked at the citizen who had tried to overthrow her beating heart, to sabotage her lungs, to end the administration of life within her body.
And calmly, she met his eyes.
And then calmly, she met his eyes.
And then she met his eyes calmly.
And then, still calm, she met his eyes.
She did not even glance at the violet head, the only head who did not participate in the crimes against her.
Her hands were tight in front of her.
Her shoulders were back.
She looked tired, and she looked determined, and heavy with stress, and still barreling forward.
Judge Azdak asked her to swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but.
You want the whole truth?
Dana said.
Everyone got very quiet.
That is not a question that is asked often in a town like ours, and it carries a dangerous weight.
I will give you all of it, and nothing but, she said.
The defense attorney and the prosecutor, two identical men, both named Troy Walsh, objected in unison.
Although their objections were unclear and consisted of a high-pitched, panicked, no, stop her.
The judge upheld both objections, but Dana ignored all this.
Being mayor means carrying many secrets, she said.
I am so young to carry so much.
Now
you will share in my burden.
And she began to tell the truth.
All of it, as she knew it.
Obviously, we can report nothing of what she said.
Most of the crowd fled, horrified of what would be done with them if they heard even a fragment of the mayor's testimony.
The judge felt obligated to stay, but but put on the sound-cancelling headphones they assign all judges, so none of them will hear anything that might make life too complicated.
Only Hiram, already charged, already a criminal, listened with interest as Dana unfurled the shadows within her.
And then
she was done.
She said, Thank you, nodded to the judge, nodded to Hiram, collected her belongings and walked out of the courtroom.
So the trial is continuing just fine, and we should reach justice, whatever that means, quite soon.
Obviously, the transcript for this day of the trial will be burned, along with the court stenographer.
And now the children's fun fact science corner.
Up is up and down is down.
Left is right and right is left.
To the west there are the highest highs and to the east there are the lows.
The up top is where the bluebirds go and the witching happens down below.
If you need to cross the street, mind your shoes and mind your feet.
For there are more to streets than horns that bleat, or cars that speed, or lights that lead.
There is something something stranger yet that wants to take you.
Don't forget.
Yes, there is something stranger still, and if it can, it could, and it would, and it will.
Its teeth are sharp, its eyes are sharp, its voice a dulcet maze.
So walk real quick and step real light.
and always look both ways.
Look to the left to see your own death, and look to the right to avoid a great fright, and look for what hides under the cars that pass by, under the trucks that speed, under the pavement weeds, under the asphalt and sand, look for a quick, grasping hand.
Up is up, and down is down.
Left is right, and right is left.
To the west there are the highest highs, and to the east there are the lows.
The uptop is where the bluebirds go, and the witching happens down below.
This has been the Children's Fun Fact Science Corner.
The Nightvale Airport announced a trial run of international flights.
Previously, there were only the regular flights to LAX, JFK, XTA, Burbank, and of course, King City.
But now, Airport Administration is unveiling plans to reach more than 50 international destinations, including Mexico, Double Mexico, and Switzerland.
How these plans can be achieved in a one-terminal airport with no customs facilities and only the capacity to handle two passenger planes at a time has not been answered.
Martin McCaffrey, local representative of the TSA, waved away objections to the changes, standing in front of reporters and literally waving his arms in physical dismissal of the questions being raised.
He also added an occasional pss
and eye roll.
He then gave a statement.
Now that I have provided an official response to any technical questions on this matter, it's time to talk about what's important to this town.
He opened a box which contained hundreds, if not thousands, of hand-drawn sketches depicting a strange, elongated, dark
crawling out of a kitchen refrigerator.
Martin said, I find one of these on my pillow each morning when I wake up.
I don't know who is drawing them or why.
Who is doing this to me?
He collapsed to his knees, his face a perfect portrait of anguish, while above him the bright pink banner saying, celebrating a new airport for a new night veil, flapped loudly in the rising wind, each gust bringing a sharp bark of plastic as Martin, crouched beneath, retreated into a sad, helpless silence.
You know,
I haven't traveled out of the country in a long time.
I have half a mind to hop on one of those planes and head to Switz again.
Ooh, or even somewhere new.
Maybe Carlos and I could check out a nice resort, somewhere tropical.
Oh, that'd be so fun.
Martin is now weeping and crawling away from the podium, dragging his crumpled-up sketches with him, spit and snot dripping off his face, forming a trail in the dirt below him.
A tropical vacation.
Could be just what we need.
And finally, a word from our sponsors.
Today's show is sponsored by Kleenex brand Tissue Products.
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Update from the trial.
In a last-minute surprise, there has been a complete turnover in the makeup of the jury.
Previously, the jury was made up of seven humans and an AI simulating a five-headed dragon.
This was all pretty standard, but now, without warning, announcement, or any decision from the judge, the seven humans were removed from the jury.
In their stead were seven strangers.
The strangers were unmoving, unblinking.
They breathed audible, even breaths.
The hiss of air through their nostrils, eyes fixed on nothing.
Judge Asdak said that she does not approve of this change, but also that she's too scared to question it.
And anyway, she would find it hard to enforce any actions against it, since the bailiff, too, is now a stranger, unmoving, except that every time the judge looks away and looks back again, she swears the stranger is slightly closer than she was before.
The defense attorney, on behalf of the four heads he represents, offered strong objections from behind his desk, where he was hiding from the strangers.
The prosecuting attorney joined his objections and also joined him behind the desk.
There was very little comment from the observers in the gallery, as most of them too had been replaced by unmoving, breathing strangers.
Well, I guess we should get right to deliberations then, shouted the judge through the closed and locked door of her chambers.
But we haven't even given our closing arguments, said both attorneys simultaneously, sitting back to back so that they could keep their eyes on as many of the strangers as possible.
The judge considered this argument and responded by screaming that one of the strangers was in her chamber and how did he get in there?
The Troys did not have an answer for that, and so the deliberations begin.
Listeners, while we wait to hear the verdict to this eventful and historic trial, let us take a quick peek at the weather.
I've seen
the light
leave my father's eyes,
and he dies as he sighs and long goodbyes.
He blames his pain
on everything but shame
and he dies as he cries, still survives.
Who
will he ever blame,
cooker, cook-a
good cocaine
An apophetic drug?
We blame it on the drugs,
but why care?
It's not you,
so it seems fair.
Just close
your eyes
and kiss the pain goodbye.
Surprise,
I lied, the pain survived.
Who
will you
ever blame
Cutcap, Cutcap, Cutcap,
Cut Cocaine?
Indifference is the word,
and we are all absurd,
but not you,
you're cool, just pass on through
to see
the light
leaving all of your eyes,
and you die
as you sigh along
lies
Who
will we ever blame
Coca, Coca,
Coca
Cocaine?
Who
will we
ever blame
will
we
ever learn from shame?
There's one thing
that will never change.
Hey, it's Jeffrey Kraner with a word from our sponsor.
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Someone else is there.
Something else is there.
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.
You look down and see the mythical kraken.
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 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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The trial of Hiram McDaniels is over.
A verdict has been reached.
The jury that consisted of an AI simulation of a five-headed dragon and seven silent, unmoving strangers, only deliberated for a few minutes before returning with a verdict of guilty on all charges.
The strangers breathed heavy, visible breaths.
The AI booped and whistled.
It was all very quiet and polite and quick.
Hiram's heads responded in ways as different as their personalities.
Green, of course, roared and spat out a stream of fire unlike any ever seen from him before, white in its pure heat.
Gold nodded gravely, a politician politically accepting bad news.
Blue didn't react visibly at all.
Gray slumped and curled into his own long neck, a look of supreme dejection on his reptilian features.
And purple sat tall in satisfaction rather than celebration.
Judge Azdak said, well, let's get to sentencing then.
And Troy Walsh, lawyer for the defendants, prepared to speak, but the judge went on to say, there are no arguments to be made.
If Hiram is guilty of attacking the mayor, of attacking the very civic structure of our town, then Hiram must be put to death.
We have no choice, she concluded.
Even Troy Walsh, the prosecuting attorney, was taken aback by this sudden and severe sentence.
He met eyes with his identical legal opposition and made a small shrug.
What am I supposed to to do here?
He signaled through the expressive language of the body.
This isn't my problem, I guess.
It's a problem, but not my problem.
The judge continued.
Sentence to be carried out once all appeals have been received and disposed of.
The guilty four heads will be killed with a single bullet each, so as not to harm the lungs, heart, or any other part of the body shared with the violet head who is not charged by this court.
But, Violet shouted, but I am connected to them completely.
If my other heads die, then I will die too.
Green continued to roar, and for the first time,
there was a hard spine of anguish within the pulse of his anger.
Gray sobbed, loudly and unashamed.
Gold, still nodding at the court with a politician's poker face, surprised himself by throwing up, and in doing so gave up the pretense of geniality.
He too began to sob.
I'm afraid, said Judge Asdak, removing her glasses and cleaning them distractedly with a bit of her robe, that justice is more important than the life of every innocent who comes through this court.
If there is damage to more than the perpetrators, then that is unfortunate but unavoidable.
Take him away.
Since the bailiff was an unmoving stranger, the helpful but doomed court stenographer led Hiram away.
Violet howled that she couldn't do this, that he was not charged with any crime, but no one intervened.
A janitor trundled her cart forward to mop up the vomit left by gold.
The few humans left observing the court seemed at a loss for what to do and started to disperse in uncertain, uneven groups.
The AI did not move because it was a computer.
The strangers in the courtroom did not move either, although they seemed just a little closer to the onlookers than they were before.
And so,
that's it.
That was the trial of Hiram McDaniels.
He will be killed.
His violet head, innocent,
will also die.
So that's justice.
I guess.
I guess we've done it.
Good work, us.
I guess.
Stay tuned next for the awful void of your own doubts and feelings.
Good night.
I guess.
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.
Original music by Dispirition.
All of it can be found at disparition.info or at disparition.bandcamp.com.
This episode's weather was Cocaine by Holy Moly.
Find out more at cowpunkholymoly.bandcamp.com.
Comments, questions, email us at info at welcometonightvale.com or follow us on Twitter at nightvale radio.
Check out welcometonightvale.com for more information on this show, as well as all sorts of cool Nightvale stuff you can own.
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That'd be amazing.
Today's proverb: Them's the brakes, kid, said the most annoying driving instructor ever.
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 Dude 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 Unschooled wherever you get your podcasts.
And don't forget to hit the follow button.
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 Night Vale, 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 your podcasts.
Boo.