50 - Capital Campaign

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

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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.

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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 gotta know what a night veil is to like the show.

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Get your tickets to our live US plus Toronto tours right now at welcometonightveld.com/slash live.

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Home is where the heart is.

We found it it one day in the sink.

It hums things late at night, but they are not songs.

Welcome to Night Vale.

If there's one thing I've learned as a proud citizen of Nightvale, it's that horses are incredibly susceptible to suggestions from government satellites.

But I've also learned that Nightvale is a community that cares about education.

Nightvale is a community that fears education.

Nightvale is a community that allows education to happen the way terrified campers allow bears to eat their food.

Education is important,

say whispers with no obvious source we all hear every night.

College graduation rates in our little town are above the national average.

We bravely continue to promote literacy in spite of the terrible dangers associated with books.

Our truancy rates have significantly declined due to the Sheriff's Secret Police's program of humane, low-fatality taserings.

So, I know we can count on all of you to support the Night Vale Community College Capital Campaign, which was launched this past Monday to fund the establishment of a new science center for students.

Science, I especially believe, is very important.

College president Sarah Sultan announced, in our present rapidly changing technological environment, it is more important than ever to encourage students to consider study and careers in all the sciences.

Except astronomy, she added, pretending she was coughing.

Nobody cares about astronomy, she said obviously under a cough.

Reporters stood quiet and confused about how President Sultan could make such an announcement as she is a smooth, fist-sized river rock and has no visible mouth and likely no internal organs, muscles, or passageways that can create a human-sounding voice.

Telepathy, President Sultan said with a cough.

It's telepathy, you guys, she said, in all of our minds.

Fundraising opportunities like these can make a huge difference to small local colleges.

So please, Night Vale, consider making a contribution.

As always, you can give to the capital campaign by burying your check, cash, or credit card donation in warm, wet earth and whispering,

I know what you did.

I do not

forget.

I've gotten a lot of calls, emails, telegrams, and sympathetic glances the past couple of weeks from people who are wondering if Carlos the scientist has returned from the other world desert he is trapped in.

And here I remind you that he became trapped there while saving our city from treacherous, dark forces.

I remind you

he is a hero.

I remind you that my boyfriend is a hero.

Sadly, Carlos is still in the desert, the same desert our new mayor was once trapped in.

Fortunately, as Dana discovered, cell phone batteries last forever there, and there's pretty good Wi-Fi despite there being just vast amounts of sand and, apparently, a mountain.

But if our mayor can make it out fine, I think a scientist can too.

Scientists are always fine.

Listeners, I've been seeing all the reviews for that new restaurant, Tourniquet.

Sounds like executive chef LaShawn Mason has created a real culinary hit.

It's almost impossible to get a reservation there.

I tried to get a table for...

for just one, of course.

And the nearest available date was not for another two months.

And even then, it wasn't a reservation for tourniquet,

but for Applebee's.

Actually, you know what?

I think I've been looking at the Applebee's website.

It's very easy to misspell tourniquet.

Anyway,

Gia Samuel's review in the latest issue of the Night Vale Daily Journal mentioned tourniquet sous chef, Earl Harlan.

And that surprised me.

He was a childhood friend of mine, and I had no idea he was a professional chef.

It also surprised me because he was dragged away screaming by the herd of mute children at last year's Eternal Scout ceremonies.

Very few ever survive Boy Scout courts of honor.

Especially not those dragged away by the mute children.

So, it's good to see Earl back home and safe, and likely returning to his volunteer duties as Scout Master.

I hope, one day, I can get a reservation to his fine restaurant.

Um, let me see.

No, nothing.

Oh, wait!

Yes.

Yes, I got one.

I...

Oh, nope.

No, I'm on the Applebee's website again.

Never mind.

An update on the progress of the Nightvale Community College Capital Campaign.

Thanks to the generous donations of Nightvale citizens, the campaign has already reached 30% of its target goal.

A particularly notable gift was made by local eccentric recluse and proud alumna, Mrs.

Sylvia Wickersham.

The college fundraising staff was caught off guard by this donation as no one has heard from or seen Mrs.

Wickersham in over a decade.

Also the gift was a fine porcelain vase filled with two dozen English Angora rabbits.

College representatives expressed their gratitude for Mrs.

Wickersham's generous and super cute contribution, of course, but would like to remind the greater community that it is preferred that donations be made via cash, check, credit card, spinal columns, or other common negotiable currencies.

Money, college representatives added helpfully.

through the narrow crack of a slightly lifted manhole cover on Main Street.

You know, the kind you use to procure goods and services when you still have a physical form.

They added in spray-painted bubble graffiti on the side of an abandoned warehouse near the train tracks.

More on this, as there is more on this.

Night Vale, our new leader, is almost here.

This Friday is inauguration day for our new mayor, Dana Cardinal, who used to be an intern at this very radio station.

Dana may, in fact, be the most successful intern this station has ever had.

So few of our interns have ever gone on to do anything.

Important.

Gone on to do anything important.

Inauguration of new mayors includes a swearing in ceremony that takes place behind a thick velvet curtain.

The curtain is raised a few inches, and all the press and public are shown a few shuffling feet and hear loud, high-pitched shouts.

The mayoral swearing-in ceremony is the one point in Night Vale's political calendar where citizens may voice their opinions and beliefs without risking reprisal or imprisonment.

They are, in fact, encouraged to shout even the most forbidden beliefs and thoughts during the ceremony, openly and without fear.

The event will take place in an undisclosed location two hundred miles from downtown Nightvale, and will be exactly two minutes long.

Former mayoral candidates, the faceless old woman who secretly lives in your home, and Hiram McDaniels, who is literally a five headed dragon, have both declared this a botched election, and are filing for a recount by shouting their complaints into the side of a canyon wall they think might be Hidden Gorge.

No one can tell exactly where Hidden Gorge is, which is how it got its name, Gorge.

It doesn't matter.

I'm ecstatic for our new mayor.

It'll be weird having a former intern as a leader, but I just think she'll do a wonderful job.

Congratulations, old, young friend.

I've just been informed that Mrs.

Sylvia Wickersham has made another large donation to the Nightvale Community College Capital Campaign.

This one consisting of 1,000 live and extremely fluffy rabbits.

The Capital Committee is beginning to have difficulty finding space on campus to house her donations.

What foliage existed on campus has been immediately devoured.

Several of the botany program's greenhouses have been broken into and ransacked.

And many of the rabbits have reportedly entered the student center, refusing to wait in line before ordering at the snack bar and taking way more napkins than they need.

In an effort to make the most of this impressive endowment, the Capitol Committee is currently discussing the possibility of repurposing some of the rabbits toward residence life operations.

English Angora rabbits are well known for their thick, soft, silky wool, so the college's student housing office feels this presents an opportunity to make new blankets and rugs and hats and blindfolds for students, as well as winter cloaks for the coyote-faced advisors that lurk about the student program's office.

Representatives have attempted to contact Mrs.

Wickersham to discuss the possible redistribution of her generous gifts, but without success.

More curiously, when attempting to visit Mrs.

Wickersham's home, committee members were informed by her neighbors that they have never actually seen Mrs.

Wickersham, but they often have dreams of her.

I mean, she never looks like herself, each of the neighbors stated.

Generally, she appears as a hovering green box that pulses with light, and her voice sounds like an oboe playing a whole note, but like, in this dream kind of way, where I totally know it's her,

they concluded.

Some committee members raised questions about how an incorporeal dream being could donate wild animals.

And also, if maybe, she could stop doing that.

Those members were quietly removed from the room by other committee members.

In any case, Night Vale, let us hold Mrs.

Wickersham in our thoughts and of course, dreams, and hope for her safe return.

or possibly for an end to her rabbit donations.

Both would be nice, but let's not be greedy, Nightvale.

We all take what we can get in this life, you know?

We take what we can get.

Uh bad news from the Night Vale Community College, listeners.

A donation of 5,000 English Angora rabbits in the name of Mrs.

Sylvia Wickersham have just arrived at the college's fundraising headquarters.

It's uncertain how they found their way there, as said headquarters had already been relocated to the underground emergency fundraising-related disaster bunker constructed in the 1970s by Dr.

Erlis Bedermeyer, the community college's all-time second-least popular president.

As of last report, the rabbits have invaded and taken over control of fundraising headquarters, using dedicated telephone lines to make personal calls, uttering insensitive remarks about the body types of students and staff, and tilting the vending machines in clear violation of safety labeling.

Simone Rigidot, the transient who lives in the Earth Sciences building, says these are typical behaviors for this breed of rabbit and that she is not surprised.

She also repeated her claim that the world ended more than 30 years ago before grunting some French cuss words and disappearing into a small round hole in the wall.

The 6,800 rabbits, more rabbits now than students, are running amok throughout campus.

They have disrupted lectures and shown flagrant disrespect for faculty.

They have joined academic and social organizations and are engaged in irresponsible drinking.

There are even reports that these vulgar, cuddly rodents broke into the college president's office and licked viciously on President Sultan for several minutes before her administrative assistant could free her.

Listeners, this is an urgent situation.

These rabbits, well,

all rabbits, really, are a menace, and they now have access to all the advantages of higher education.

I advise you to lock your bookshelves, eat your diplomas, and place any vulnerable stones or rocks in your home on high, inaccessible shelves.

If you see a rabbit, Do not attempt to engage it in debate on post-structuralism, semiotics, gender politics, or sporting events.

Even as I speak to you, college officials and the sheriff's secret police are desperately searching for Mrs.

Wickersham, hoping to mitigate some of the damage that is being done.

I hope they find her, Night Vale.

I hope that the rabbits do not find us.

I hope that we all find something or someone that can keep the light on a little longer against the endless, pressing dark.

And in the meantime, I take you now to the weather.

People bring me casseroles and pray for his immortal soul.

They think I'm in widow's weeds, but pity's the last thing I need.

I dress in black and wear a veil to hide bright eyes and skin so pale.

And make sure that nobody sees the marks of love my lover leaves.

Since the day they told me he was gone,

haunts me faithfully in the dust till dawn.

Hear him whisper sweetly in my ear.

Can't you see we got a good

thing here?

Feel his fingertips caress my hair.

Turn around, and there is nothing there.

Phantom of the round me sleeping near.

Can't you see we got a good day here?

Can't you see we got a good day here?

When some people pass away, they don't reach the heaven that they've prayed.

Bitter about the fallacy their afterlife turned out to be

they bitch and moan and hide your keys or talk to psychics on tv

they just groan and shake the chains when i say my baby's on the physical plane

when i died up on that cold cold night

made a promise never leave her sight

now she knows that there's nothing to fear.

Can't you see we got a good thing here?

Run my fingers through her hair.

She turns around and there's nothing there.

Wrap my arms around her, seeping near.

Can't you see we got a good thing here?

Can't you see we got a good thing here?

My husband cooling in the grave, the worms crawling out

My lover's disembodied soul makes me so happy now

When they drew their pistols and they fired each one shot

How could I have imagined this sweet bliss would be my life?

I used to be an angry man, I wanted things that weren't mine At 15 paces in the sand, I left that all behind

now my spirits rise when she turns out her bedroom light

I gently haunt my lover in the cold and tender

night

they try to comfort me with blood

thing here?

Don't talk to me of death to us apart.

Between us, we share a beating heart.

Candles flicker in the shameler.

Can't you see we got a good thing here?

Can't you see we got a good thing here?

Can't you see we got a good thing

here?

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

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We have received information that agents of the Sheriff's Secret Police broke down the door to Mrs.

Sylvia Wickersham's neo-Victorian home on the east side of town.

Their search of the house found it completely empty and uninhabited, with the exception of a small, green tree lizard, sunning itself in the front parlor.

The sheriff's secret police grabbed the lizard and were on the verge of eating it, as none of them had had lunch that day.

Well, I mean, some raisins and a few roasted almonds, but that's not really a full lunch.

And lizards are a complete protein.

But the Capital Campaign Committee stopped them.

This

is misses Wickersham, said a committee member.

This is misses Wickersham?

said the secret police person.

Yes, the committee member said, explaining further that misses Wickersham was a high-level donor to the college.

At certain levels, donors receive benefits like mugs or tote bags or names carved into bloodstones.

At higher levels, donors receive very special benefits, like being able to invade the dreams of their neighbors or having all of their belongings taken from their home or being transformed permanently into a tree lizard.

Most of our benefactors choose a Gila or Skink or Chunkwalla, the committee member said, quoting from the college's own fundraising brochure, as the lizard form of misses Wickersham dangled and squirmed above the sheriff's secret police person's gaping purple maw.

Mrs.

Wickersham takes a lot of pride in her alma mater,

the committee member explained, and she has donated so much to the college.

None of it has ever been money, but she is a valued donor to the community, continued the committee member, as a brass band somewhere else in the world, and completely unrelated to this story, played eighth notes quickly, but softly.

Why did you make a big fuss about it and call us here?

said the secret police person.

Oh,

that,

said the committee member, shrugging.

It was just uh

good publicity for our capital campaign.

The Sheriff's Secret Police coaxed the tree lizard into a comfortable vivarium filled with fresh reptile bark, wrote evidence on the side of it in Sharpie, and removed it to an undisclosed location near the microwave in the Secret Police break room.

In her absence, Mrs.

Wickersham's next of kin was found to legally be her dry cleaner, Ben Burnham, who was amenable to the idea of retracting Mrs.

Wickersham's donation.

More specifically, what he said was, Yeah, sure, whatever, what do I care?

All the colleges are just factories for little socialist robots these days, anyway.

Beep, boop, beep, boop.

Free health care for everybody.

Beep, boop, beep, boop, beep, boop.

I'm a robot.

Then he began to, without breaking eye contact, eat the plastic hanging bags on his desk, starting from the top and working his way down.

The rabbits have been removed and redonated to the Night Vale Petting Zoo.

This worked out well, since until today, the Night Vale Petting Zoo has only ever housed emaciated wolves.

But now, thanks to Mr.

Burnham's donation on behalf of Mrs.

Wickersham, of nearly 8,000 cuddly rabbits, those wolves will will not be hungry again for months.

Despite all interruptions, the Nightvale Community College Capital Campaign has actually surpassed its undisclosed goal, and construction of the science center is slated to begin this coming summer.

The Capital Committee would like to extend its thanks to everyone who donated.

A community that cares for education, after all, is a community that cares for its future, with all the fear and respect and awe that the future is due.

Knowledge may be terrible, but we can only prefer it to ignorance.

Light may be terrible, but we can only prefer it to the dark.

Stay tuned next for a reality that cannot possibly match expectation.

And as always, good night, Night Vale.

Good night.

Welcome to Night Vale is a production of commonplace books.

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

This episode was co-written with Ashley Learman.

The voice of Night Vale is Cecil Baldwin.

Original music by Disparition.

All of it can be found at disparition.info or at disparition.bandcamp.com where he has a brand new album with guest work from Cecil Baldwin and Gabriel Royal.

This episode's weather was Ghost Story by Charming Disaster.

Find out more at charmingdisaster.com.

Comments, questions, email us at nightvale at commonplacebooks.com or follow us on Twitter at nightvale radio.

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Today's Proverb.

Soccer is also commonly known as football, Canadian baseball, American football, violent jogging, and World War II.

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-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 Kramer here to tell you about another show from me and my Night Vale 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.