49 - Old Oak Doors Part B

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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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 pipe?

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She opened Canva and got in the groove.

Both creating canvas sheets.

Create 50 signs fit for suburban streets.

Done in a quick, all complete.

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

Without darkness, without shadows, and without secrets.

Listeners, there is someone knocking on my station door, which must mean Carlos.

Carlos, is that you?

Come in and welcome home my sweet cart

No,

no, no, no, no, no,

no,

no,

Cecil, I was in the neighborhood and I wanted to stop by.

No, Steve Carlsberg.

You do not get to just stop by the studio.

You are not a radio professional.

All right, fair, but I've been driving in circles around your station all day listening to the show and it caught me thinking, you know, John Peters, you know the farmer.

Yes, I do know.

He was like, Hey, y'all, there's a smiling God and the world is unraveling because I was in 4-H Club.

And he's mostly right.

But I think that it's not a smiling god, but a secret underground missile testing site.

No, listen, the secret underground missile testing site is below the rec center, Steve.

Well, it's like the faceless old woman recently said while campaigning.

She said,

I'm replacing all of your digital photo albums with classified pictures of secret missile testing sites.

I think the faceless old woman understands what's really going on, whereas Hiram is like, well, I can't really be bothered with looking into government overspending because I am literally a five-headed dragon.

And then his blue head is like, when you consider the mathematics, there's no benefit to us.

And then Grace says, thinking about government interference makes me sad.

And Violet says, we must be free above all.

We must be free and also above all other things.

And then his last head just keeps roaring and saying, Your body burns quickly, soft human protesters.

But really, I was thinking about what your boyfriend Carlos said.

Don't you dare, Steve Carlsberg.

So

he said, I'm certain I can stop the light from entering Night Vale.

I have a simple device that will protect us.

I am not dating a munchkin from the Wizard of Oz.

That's not.

No.

You sure?

I'm quite sure.

All right.

Fair enough, but look, he's.

And no offense, Cecil, but he's an outsider.

He's not from here.

How do we know he's not part of the super underground secret military government that is testing missiles?

Steve Carlsberg, did you just accuse my boyfriend of being a secret operative?

Well, um, yeah,

because that'd be pretty cool, actually.

That'd be awesome.

It's dangerous, awesome.

But, but it is, nevertheless, it is not true, Steve.

Plus, how many times do I have to tell you that there is nothing secret about the secret missile testing?

It is as American as using drug-laced apple pie to test the effects of hallucinogens on innocent citizens.

I think he brings up a good good point, Cecil.

You

how did you get in here?

Hey, thanks, interloper!

Whoa!

Cool eyes!

Oh,

thank you.

I wish I could say the same.

Cecil, listen, it's hard to get work done when there's all this fighting.

And it's hard to smile when there's no working.

And if we aren't smiling, then what value do we have?

Watch me smile.

You

monster.

That was really gross.

Do it again.

Look at how much better we all feel from that.

But right now, no one is being productive.

There are angels.

Actually, there's not.

No.

Nope, not a thing.

And a desert army out there battling for what?

For hooded figures?

For forbidden dog parks?

For a glow cloud?

Oh,

the hail.

For the constant terror of a secret police who can invade your home at any time without so much as a letter from human resources?

But they are our hooded figures and it is our glow cloud.

Oh

hail

and this is our town and it is terrible.

But

it is ours.

And we...

We are fighting for it.

I used to feel that way about Desert Bluffs.

So many secrets and conspiracies and darkness in our days.

It all felt so important,

so permanent.

But then then we met the smiling God.

Oh,

it was wonderful!

The sun stopped setting.

Or maybe there wasn't a sun anymore.

Maybe there was just that other

brighter light.

Who knows?

I do know that I couldn't stop smiling.

None of us could.

And our smiles seemed better,

fuller,

wider.

Soon we had no need for government cover-ups or secrets.

Everything was transparent.

Literally, you could see through everything and everyone.

The bones, the blood, the scurrying insects inside every human body.

There was so much work to be done.

And such a wonderful company to do it for.

Even the ones that resisted the most at first soon found that they loved the smiling God

more than anyone.

Even the most resistant of radio hosts

soon found his way to productive work,

happy songs, and a wide gaping smile.

So

Let's do this together, Cecil.

Believe with me in a smiling God,

the Greater Night Vale and Desert Bluffs metropolitan area, a town with not one,

but two happy, helpful voices.

Listeners, Kevin has just opened up the studio door, only it is not the studio door.

It is an oak door and light, a blinding light is pouring in and everything is becoming translucent do you see friends

the beautiful majesty of living as one under the unrelenting love of a smiling god

wow i mean it's a very pretty light

you know that company picnic of yours sure wasn't fun but

I got more done in two weeks than in the rest of my life combined.

No, Steve, what are you saying?

No.

Kevin, before I step into your weird light, let me ask you about schools real fast.

Now, my stepdaughter Janice is 10 years old, and the elementary schools are okay, but I don't know if I can afford to send her to private school when she's.

Say no more, Steve Carlsberg.

Desert Bluff schools are top-notch.

Young Janice can take college prep courses as early as 12.

Our charter schools even have great medical programs where they can heal her of all her problems.

I'm sorry, uh,

I don't get it.

Yeah, um, Janice's uncle here, what do you mean by heal her?

She can't walk, right?

Yeah, no, she's burned.

She can't.

Well,

rather than build all those crazy ramps and elevators, we just fix people so that they can become better and more productive.

you are awful and gross and i was only being polite about your eyes they are weird now you listen to me listeners steve carlsberg has just picked up kevin by his blood-stained lapels

you will not change my hometown

You will not change my stepbrother and Kevin of Desert Bluffs.

You will not change or fix or do anything at all to my little girl.

And Steve,

Steve is carrying him to the open oak door, and he just pushed him through into that blinding, awful light.

And Kevin is gone.

I did not like that guy very much.

Me neither.

Thanks, Steve.

Anything for my girl.

Try and tell me there's something about her needs fixing.

You know, Steve,

we have our differences.

So many differences.

More differences than nothing.

But

I am glad that you are there to take care of Janice.

And

she could do a lot worse.

Cecil.

Oh.

Nope, nope, never again.

No, please leave my studio and just stop barging in here with your stupid ideas about the world.

Okay, I'll see you around, Cecil.

Oh, hey there!

Steve Carlsberg, aren't you important looking?

Dana!

Dana!

You are...

You're actually back in the studio.

And this is not just an image or an apparition?

I am.

I'm home.

Our time and space finally, finally meet.

Again.

This is a happy, happy day.

I am so glad to see you too, Cecil.

But I also came back to talk to the whole city.

People of Nightvale, there is a light drowning out our sun and our minds.

But there are angels and an army of masked warriors fighting back this terrible menace.

Nightvale, stay safe.

Stay home and do not get caught in the dangerous crossfire.

The desert army and the Angels, they are here to save us.

People of Night Vale.

Oh, um, Dana.

I'm sorry, Dana, but I think that's Tamika Flynn from her secret broadcast site.

People of Night Vale, hear me.

Tamika?

The Tamika Flynn?

Oh, hi, I'm Dana.

I have heard so much about you.

You are an inspiration.

You are a hero.

Thank you, Dana.

But I am not a hero.

Or we all are.

Or the word has no meaning.

We must all save our town and ourselves.

People of Nightvale, I'm calling you to arms.

There are beings claiming to be angels and this foreign army of giants fighting.

Why can't we?

Well, yes, that's good, but...

People of Night Vale!

Angels are definitely real.

They are powerful and recently very wealthy, and they are tough to kill, unlike humans who die easily and unexpectedly all the time from all sorts of little causes.

Just wait and let them save us.

People of Nightvale

do not be defined by how you can die, but how you can live.

It is like the great writer and orator Booker T.

Washington once said,

in all things social, we can be as separate as fingers, yet one as the hand in all things essential to destroying a smiling God.

Stay safe, Night Vale.

Stay indoors, and we will broadcast to let you know when it's all over.

Get out there, Night Vale.

Grab anything you can and fight.

Grab a slingshot and a book, say an Amy Bender short story collection or Milrod Pavich's dictionary of the Khazars.

Or, if not a book, grab a rock or the throwing stars that come standard in most issues of McSweeney's.

Grab anything you can and fight.

Do not believe in heroes.

Believe in citizens.

Be a citizen.

Dana, I know that you have planned this well and you are incredibly smart, but I think Tamika might be right.

No, I think we have to all do this together,

and let us not repeat our sin of inaction.

I mean...

Oh.

It has grown so bright.

And I cannot see much, but what I can see is nearly transparent, and

I am forgetting.

And everything is coming apart, and I can see the great glowing coils of the universe unwinding.

Nightvale, our time.

Our time is now.

Let us raise our fists and shout.

I can almost hear it.

I can almost hear a crowd shouting, take

down

strikes.

I can almost hear that crowd, but I cannot quite hear them.

They need to raise their hands and shout it louder.

They need to shout, take

down,

strikes.

Every single one of them, take

down, strikes, louder, take

down, strikes.

And they scream it, take down strikes, and then they stop, not because they do not care,

but because they are people that are far away and not part of this story.

They are part of a different story, a different fiction.

But

realizing this, they all shrug

and sadly murmur to each other:

Take down Strikes.

Take down Strikes.

Yeah, take down Strikes.

And then

they are quiet and they hope for that rarest element of all.

They hope

for the best.

But in this story, in this fiction,

I hear the sound of Night Vale fighting back.

And as the light of this smiling God grows brighter, and as the shouts of this defiant nightvale grow louder,

and as I reach for my own personal copy of Kate Chopin's The Awakening,

well, more specifically for the tear gas canisters that came attached to the hardback edition,

I take all of you,

all of us that are fighting, all of us together,

all of us,

All of us.

Welcome to the weather.

Last night, both and big buddy, and I knew you'd be there too.

Look at us all grown up in college Uh you'd choose to cross the board Just the decent thing to do Wish you could all been introduced You brought your new friend I brought my chain can't speak curtains do

And it takes it

You're asking, can't we just be friends?

But this bell in my chest still rings.

And it's better to just pretend that I can't see you waiting.

Can't hear you call my name.

I know how much you hate it.

Babe, I gotta walk away.

You once said if we were careful, that we could do this all our lives.

One of us got clumsy, both of us got wise.

And now we're not so young.

I wish it was more time.

We've been living

too long, too close.

And I'm ready

to let you go.

I'm ready to move you go.

I think she lives around here.

I see her almost daily.

All I can do to stop myself from saying something crazy.

I don't think badly over.

I hope she makes you happy.

It's just a lot to ask to watch your future walking past me.

And I know that jealousy is a perfect waste of time.

But left to my devices,

I've spent about time wasting mine.

I spent about two more wasting mine.

We've been living

too long, too close.

And I'm ready

to let you go.

I'm ready.

Call of your ghost.

And we've been living

too long, too close.

And I'm ready

to let you go.

I'm ready.

Call of your ghost.

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Hi, you've reached the voicemail of Cecil Palmer.

I'm off doing some important journalistic work.

Or maybe just petting Koshak.

But either way, leave me a message.

Cecil, hey,

it's Carlos.

I hate that I got your voicemail, but listen, I figured it out.

So we can't shut the oak doors unless everyone is back where they belong.

And every moment those doors are open, more of that light gets through into Night Vale.

I couldn't figure out why we couldn't just keep the doors closed for good.

And it was really frustrating to have a problem I couldn't solve.

And then I got sad because I couldn't solve it.

But then I did solve it, and I felt so happy.

So those are some, but not all, of the emotions that I had.

Here is what I found.

Night Vale is a place that is difficult to leave and difficult to enter and connecting a place as weird as that with a place as weird as this was causing a lot of strain on linear time and space.

So

those native to Nightvale, Dana, John, the angry woman in the intern shirt,

all had to return home.

And the masked army all had to come back here, which they did.

Just moments ago, the last of them came back through the door.

It is so exciting when you make a scientific discovery like that.

I was very happy.

But then,

as the last of the masked army members came through the door, it slammed shut and vanished.

And I remembered that I am not from Nightvale.

I remembered that, as far as the laws of the universe are concerned,

it is not where I belong.

Cecil,

I don't even remember how I got to Night Vale in the first place.

I mean, where is Night Vale even?

But I promise I will find a way back.

It'll just take a couple of days, a week, max.

I'll be fine.

I'm a scientist.

Cecil,

a scientist is usually fine.

Maybe a few weeks.

I don't know.

The upside is: Dana was right.

I have had 97% battery all day and decent reception.

So we'll at least get to talk every night.

Best of luck at home.

I love you.

Listeners,

Night Vale fought together.

Every citizen.

High school football coach Nasr al-Mujahid, in response to the strex workers' ghastly smiles, showed them that thing that he can do with his tongue,

which made many of them stop smiling and run screaming away.

A Balaclava-clad man wearing a miter, cloak, and a giant silver star, and speaking through a vocoder, you know, the man that we all believe to be the sheriff of Nightvale,

was dropping heavy bricks down on the invaders from his hover office

in the clouds.

Simone Rigideau, the transient who lives in the Earth Sciences building at the community college, found some experimental fish in the lab closet and put them into the fuel tanks of the yellow helicopters, which were already incapacitated by several plastic bags that had blown out of the forbidden dog park.

And then, you know, wrapped themselves up in the rotors.

And

Old Woman Josie and her supposed angel friends protected the empty lot where she plans to rebuild Nightvale's old

opera house.

The Strex attackers were picked up by her winged friends and flown far into the sky, higher than even the sheriff's hover office.

And, of course, a group of teenagers led by Tamika Flynn chased out everyone at Strex Corp headquarters by slingshotting copies of Stephen Covey's best-selling self-help book, Seven Habits of Highly Effective People.

And the civilization of tiny people living below lane five of the desert flower bowling alley and arcade fun complex.

Well, they did something.

I'm not terribly sure, but you know, because they're too tiny to be noticed amid all the action.

Which

is to say,

Strex

has retreated,

and the blood-covered office workers are gone.

And

the old oak doors,

they are also gone.

And with them, that penetrating, vicious light, and we are safely in darkness once again.

A very wealthy-looking and mostly nude being named Erica, who introduced themselves as,

you know, an angel or whatever,

then wrote a check to purchase Strex Corp.

And while they are not technically for sale, there was no one to decline the offer.

So, according to American business law, that is a legal acquisition.

it is not yet known what the angels will do with the vast corporation they now own

and i think at last

we are ourselves we are nightvale once again

Even here at the station, the Office of Station Management now

is just a stone slab covering a dark cave.

A pulsing red glow around its edges, filling my mind with sad and monstrous visions when I walk past the door.

So it seems like our old management is back in charge.

And that

is.

Well, I think that's a good thing.

I think.

I mean, it's possible that that is, in fact, terrifying news.

So, I think.

I guess

we won.

Speaking of winning.

Yes!

Right.

The election.

Okay.

Well, it looks like we didn't quite get all of the votes in yet.

So we are are going to speed things up.

Listeners, listeners, wherever you are listening to this, just follow along.

When I say the name of the candidate you prefer, raise your hand.

So I will say the name, you raise your hand, and the cameras that are everywhere in town watching your every move will count your vote.

So

raise your hand to vote for Hiram McDaniels.

I thought there would be more.

Do they not like me?

Raise your hands for me

or I will relieve you of the burden of having hands

up.

All right.

Okay.

Hands down.

Now, raise your hand for the faceless old woman who secretly lives in your home.

I am in your home at this very moment.

I am, in a way, your guest.

It would be rude as a host if you did not raise your hand for me while I was sitting right there, unseen, next to you.

It might make me angry.

I've never been angry.

I wonder what I'm like when I'm angry.

It will be interesting for us to find out together if you do not raise raise your hand for me.

Oh, okay.

Okay, great.

Hands down.

Now, I am fairly certain that some of you voted for both.

And thus negated yourselves.

You'll know if one of your friends did this because they will soon fade from existence forever.

Anyway,

that's all the votes in, but of course,

none of the votes matter

because the election is decided by the pulses coming from Hidden Gorge.

I am now being handed the results by an election official in full uniform, a plague doctor mask,

an off-brand snuggie,

and stilts.

And the next mayor of Nightvale is.

I just want to thank every person who voted for me.

You're all winners in my book.

And we've recorded all of your names right here in this book.

I just ate one of your highlighters.

I'm sorry.

I'm nervous.

I'll replace it with a crow's feather just as soon as I am mayor.

Oh, well,

it says here that the next mayor of Nightvale

is Dana Cardinal.

I'm sorry,

Cecil, I don't want to get obnoxious about this, but it's pronounced Hiram.

That wasn't even close.

I know, I'm sorry, this must be a disappointment to you both, but I'm just reading what the gorge is decreed.

Former intern, Dana, but she wasn't even a candidate.

And she's so young and not anxious.

Dana, the intern who came home, it is, like I told you once, you were always impressed.

This is unacceptable!

Prepare the bird!

And that you were always somebody, and now age has uncovered the you that was always...

Okay.

Hiram, please.

I'm in the middle of doing something right now.

It's the you that always...

No, it's the you that always was, but I can't remember what I said.

She can't be mayor.

She is a murderer.

She killed her own double.

Well, now, now, now, I don't know if murder should necessarily disqualify someone from

being irrelevant.

There is a 50% chance that the victim was Dana original and not Dana double.

Oh, yeah, thanks, Blue.

Forget that other thing I was saying about the murder.

She has no proof that she is not a double of herself.

That's right, there's no proof of.

Everybody knows that being a double is one of the few manifestations of reality that cannot be Nightvale mayor.

I do not accept these results.

I am continuing my campaign, and I will make sure that Dana does not stay mayor for long.

And I find myself agreeing with the faceless old woman.

We will not rest until one of us is rightfully mayor.

Or until nightvale burns to ashes and fumes.

Exactly, Green, yes.

Now, I really must object to all of this.

Come, Hiram.

You and I have planning to do.

Yeah.

Well,

once again,

it's just you and me, listeners.

The bustle of this day has come and gone, and now there is the quiet night.

The universe is unraveling.

It still is.

We won the day.

We won the battle.

We won whatever unit of measurement you care to say that we won.

We returned to the dangerous equilibrium we had before, which we can only assume or hope or wish is better.

But, of course,

we did not stop the unraveling of the universe.

The universe is not a thing that is.

It is not a thing at all.

It is the very action of its going.

It is in fact its own dissolves and our lives,

the entire span of human existence going back and back

and

if we are lucky, forward

and forward.

The entire span is spent within this dissolve.

So look at the fleeting stars with fleeting eyes and feel how the earth beneath you gives.

It is all a temporary manifestation of particles and it is all unraveling unraveling back to particulate silence.

The bustle of the human day

will come

and will go

and then

there will be

night.

But

how beautiful these moments within the dissolve.

What a temporary perfection we can find within this passing world.

Everything good ever done,

everything good that was done today,

and all the good people doing it, and back and back and forward and forward, all of that beauty within a universe unraveling.

Be proud of your place in the cosmos.

It is small, and yet it is

how unlikely,

how

fantastic

and stupid

and excellent

and

I'm sorry

I'm sorry um it looks like I have a voicemail from Carlos

he must have called during the weather um I apologize, listeners.

I have to check this.

So stay tuned next for more of us and more of me until that inevitable distant point where I and this and everything must end.

And as always,

good night.

Night Vale.

Good night.

Welcome to Night Vale as a production of commonplace books.

It is written by Joseph Fink

and by Jeffrey Kraner.

The voice of Night Vale is Cecil Baldwin.

The voice of Hiram was Jackson Public.

The voice of the faceless old woman was Mara Wilson.

The voice of Deb was Meg Bashwiner.

The voice of Lauren Mallard was Lauren Sharp.

The voice of Kevin was Kevin Rfree.

The voice of Tamiko was Symphony Sanders.

The voice of Dana was Jasika Nicole.

The voice of Carlos was Dylan Marin.

The voice of John Peters, you know, the farmer, was Mark Gagliardi.

The voice of intern Maureen was Maureen Johnson.

The voice of Steve was Hal Lovelin.

Original music by Disparition.

Disparition is led by John Bernstein featuring Deep Delleranta, Valerie Evering, and Mari Yamamoto.

Today's weather was Call Off Your Ghosts by Dessa

featuring Abby Wolf and Paper Tiger.

Today's proverb:

Wonder Wall is the only 90s song visible from space.

Hi guys.

So

one year ago we did a one-year anniversary party for Nightvale in a bar in lower Manhattan.

There was 115 people there.

I'm not great at math, but there's a little more than that tonight.

This is a thing that we love making and we have loved making it since we started it two years ago and we would love to continue making it and whether it's for 115 people or for you people or for anywhere we can do it and we just thank you for helping to make this happen.

Thank you guys so much.

Thank you so, so much.

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 at welcometonightvale.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 welcometonightvale.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 welcometonightveld.com/slash live.

And hey, see you soon.