“Good night, Night Vale. Good night.” I said into my very new and very high tech Microphone ending my broadcast. It looks like I’m going to need some more black paint because the first coating is starting to flake and it looks red again.. Not good. I took off my headset (Station Management wouldn’t give me enough allowance to buy a real one. Instead, Station Management lent me their old earmuffs. The girly pink kind that are too fluffy. I hope that dumb spoilsport Steve Carlsberg never sees me like this. He’d just ruin everything! Ooh… I hate that guy.) and leaned back. Tomorrow I’d have to tell Intern Dana about another successful broadcast and mention her to try and get some more paint from her dad. My relaxation was short lived as a great thrashing and thundering came from inside Station Managements office and the door was thrown open, light swirling and filling the little square illuminated from the open threshold.