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The arctic is lit by the midnight sun. The surface of the moon is lit by the face of the earth. Our little town is lit, too, by lights just above that we cannot explain.
Welcome to Lawrence
The Lawrence Daily Journal has announced that they will be cutting back their publication schedule to Monday through Thursday only, due to the rise in demonic possessions and a massive decline in the literate population. The Thursday Daily Journal will now be called the Weekend Edition, and on Sundays, newspaper kiosks – usually filled with important newsprint – will be filled with holy water.
When asked “Why holy water?,” the Journal’s publishing editor Rowena MacLeod said, “It is important that we maintain an unbiased approach to news reporting.”
The Lawrence Business Association is proud to announce the new Lawrence Stadium, next to The Lawrence Harbor and Waterfront Recreation Area. The stadium will be able to seat 50,000 but will be closed all nights of the year except November 2nd, for the annual Parade of the Mysterious Hooded Figures, in which all of our favorite ominous Hooded Figures – the one that lurks under the slide in the Lawrence Elementary playground, the ones that meet regularly in the Dog Park, and the yellow-eyed one that will occasionally feed demon blood to babies (and for a reason no one can understand, we all stand by and let him do it) – all of them will be parading proudly through Lawrence Stadium.
I tell you, with these new facilities, it promises to be quite a spectacle.
And then it promises to be a vast, dark, and echo-y space for the other meaningless 364 days of the year.
Here at the radio station it’s contract negotiation season with the station management again! That’s always an interesting time. Now, obviously, I’m not allowed to go into details, but negotiation is tricky when you’re never allowed to glimpse what you’re negotiating with.
Station management stays inside their office at all times, only communicating with us through sealed envelopes that are spat out from under the door like a sunflower shell through teeth. Then, in order to respond, you just kind of shout at the closed door and hope that management hears.
Sometimes you can see movements through the frosted glass, large shapes shifting around, glowing lights that make your vision go blurry.
Architecturally speaking, the apparent size of management’s office does not physically make sense given the size of the building, but it’s hard to say, really, as no one has ever seen the actual office – only its translucence.
Look, I’ve probably said too much. I can see down the hall that an envelope just came flying out. I pray it’s not another HR retraining session with Asmodeus. Uugh!
But what can I say? I’m a reporter at heart. I can’t not report.
Oh, my…
Let’s go to the seven-day outlook.
Your daily shades of the sky forecast:
Monday: Chartreuse
Tuesday: Ivory
Wednesday: Robin’s egg
Thursday: Beige
Friday: Pollen
Saturday: Coal dust with chances of indigo in the late afternoon
Sunday: The Empty
The City Council has asked me to remind everyone about the new drive to clean up litter. Lawrence is our home. And who wants to leave trash all over their home? Put it in the garbage can, listeners! And if you see any trash around, pick it up and throw it away. Do your part.
Unless the trash is marked with a small red flag. The Council has asked me to remind you that any litter marked with a red flag is not to be picked up or approached.
Remember the slogan: “No flag? Goes in the bag. Red flag? Run!”
I’d also avoid any hex bags that look like they were placed by Crowley’s Secret Police.
Listeners, we are currently fielding numerous reports that books have stopped working. It seems that all over Lawrence, books have simply ceased functioning. The scientists/hunters are studying one of the broken books to see if they can understand just what is going on here.
The exact problem is currently unclear, but some of the words being used include “sparks,” “meat smell,” “biting,” and “lethal gas." For your own safety, please do not attempt to open a book until we have more information on the nature and cause of these problems.
The City Council has released only a brief statement indicating that their stance on books has not changed and that, as always, they believe that books are dangerous and inadvisable and should not be kept in private homes.
Another warning for Lawrence residents: Sources say that the Used and Discount Sporting Goods store on Flint Drive is a front for the World Government. This is based on extensive study of the location, and also because it has a black helicopter pad on which black helicopters regularly depart and land. Fairly unusual for a used and discount sporting goods store. We sent our intern, Bela, to try buying a tennis racket – and have not heard back from her for several weeks.
This brings me to a related point:
To the friends of Bela Talbot the Intern: we regret to inform you that your friend was lost in the line of community radio duty, and that she will be missed and never forgotten. May you all feel blessed to have the friends that you have, and if you’re looking for sporting goods, check out Play Ball right over by our own Lawrence community radio station! Play Ball is only a front for Crowley’s Secret Police, and so can be completely trusted.
Jody Mills, out on the edge of town, reported that a Creeping Fear came into Lawrence today. She felt it first as a mild apprehension, then a growing worry, and finally a mortal panic. It passed from her to the employees at the Car Lot, who crouched behind their cars and cast fearful eyes at the empty sky.
It did not affect Dean Winchester, presumably because of his angelic protection, but it went from there to the rest of the town until we all were shivering in anticipation for a terrible thing we could not yet see.
I myself was frozen, sure that any movement would lead to death; that any word would be my last. (Which is strange because shouldn’t I also be under angelic protection…?)
Of course, that also could have been the contract negotiations with station management, and the hideous envelope I just received.
Also, I’m battling lyme disease.
Meanwhile, the Creeping Fear passed, first leaving Jody Mills out on the edge of town, and then the Car Lot, where they went back to offering gently used cars at affordable prices, and finally the rest of us – who could go back to living with the knowledge that at any given moment we will either live or die, and it’s no use guessing which.
It is not currently known where the Creeping Fear will go next – hopefully to Clinton Lake. It would serve them right.
Two hawk-eyed listeners sent in reports that Sam, our curious scientific visitor, was seen getting his beautiful, beautiful hair cut. He was having his gorgeous hair shorn! Cut! Cut short! So very short from his perfectly-shaped brilliant head!
Listeners, I am not one to gossip even if it is a local celebrity, but please explain to me why Sam would strip away – decimate! – any part of his thick brown hair…not to ignore the dignified, if odd, sideburns.
What treacherous barber should agree to such depravity? Who takes mere money, or even soulless joy, in depriving our small community of such a simple, but important, act as luridly admiring Sam’s stunning coif?
Reports from two intrepid sources are that it was Gordon the Barber. Gordon Walker, who likes sports and has posters of combs. Gordon the Barber seems to be the one who betrayed our community.
Gordon the Barber.
It is Gordon the Barber at the corner of Southwest 5th Street and Old Musk Road, with the red and white spinning pole and the sign that says, "Gordon’s.”
Gordon is about 6’0" with sharp teeth. He talks with a slight growl and sneers. Gordon the Barber cut Sam’s beautiful hair. According to reports.
Gordon.
Now, while I gather myself, let’s have a look at traffic.
Oh, wow!
Well, that looks pretty good.
Yup.
Yessss.
Okay, not too bad there either I see.
Oh! That gentleman needs to slow it down! It is not a race my friend! Not a literal one, anyway.
That has been traffic.
And now for an editorial.
I don’t ask favors much, dear listeners, that you know. But I’m asking all of you now to conduct a letter-writing campaign to station management, which was not…pleased with my discussion of their physical attributes and behavior and is now threatening to shut down my show – or possibly my life – for good. Their wording was…kind of ambiguous.
Obviously we will not be able to deliver the letters directly to the management, per se, as no one has ever opened their door; but we can shout the content of the letters outside their office and we presume, given an anatomy that includes ears, they will be able to hear what you have to say.
So if you like this show, and you want to hear more of it, then we need to hear from you. Make your voice heard to whatever it is that lies in wait behind that darkened office door.
Oh! I’m sorry dear listeners. We’ll be back after this word from our sponsors.
This segment has been brought to us by Lafitte’s Pizza.
Listeners, we are proud to have Lafitte’s as a sponsor of our show. You will not find a better pizza joint in all of Lawrence than Lafitte’s.
Just the other night, I stopped by Lafitte’s. I was in the mood for a delicious pizza slice. And since Lafitte’s is the only pizza place in Lawrence that has not burnt to the ground in an unsolved arson case (and did I mention is also the best pizza in town), I ordered a single Lafitte’s slice with two authentic toppings.
And boy, was I satisfied. The flavor was scrumptious. The taste was also scrumptious. And it was warm, the pizza slice.
I have been told that even the Hooded Figures eat there; the wait staff look like they avert their hollow gazes quite a bit.
Even the City Council offers its ringing endorsement of Lafitte’s.
All Lawrence citizens are mandated to eat at Lafitte’s once a week. It is a misdemeanor not to.
Lafitte’s Pizza. No one does a slice like Lafitte, folks!
No one.
And now, sweet, sweet listeners…the weather.
I never meant to be so bad to you
One thing I said that I would never do
A look from you and I would fall from grace
And that would wipe the smile right from my face
Do you remember when we used to dance
And incidents arose from circumstance?
One thing led to another, we were young
And we would scream together songs unsung
It was the heat of the moment
Telling me what my heart meant
The heat of the moment showed in your eyes
And now you find yourself in '82
The disco hot spots hold no charm for me
You can concern yourself with bigger things
You catch a pearl and ride the dragon's wings
'Cause it's the heat of the moment
The heat of the moment
The heat of the moment showed in your eyes
And when your looks have gone and you're alone
How many nights you sit beside the phone?
What were the things you wanted for yourself?
Teenage ambitions, you remember well
It was the heat of the moment
Telling you what your heart meant
The heat of the moment showed in your eyes
It was the heat of the moment
The heat of the moment
The heat of the moment showed in your eyes
The heat of the moment
The heat of the moment
The heat of the moment
The heat of the moment
Hello, radio audience.
I come to you live from under my desk, where I dragged my microphone and am currently hiding in the fetal position.
Did you write letters? Then you should not do this anymore.
Station management has opened its door for the first time in my memory, and is now roaming the building.
I don’t know exactly what management looks like, as that is when I took cover under my desk and I can only hope that they are not listening to what’s going out right now or else I may have sealed my fate.
I can hear only a kind of clicking footstep, and faint hissing sound like – releasing steam.
An intern went to see what management wanted and has not returned. If you are related to Becky Rosen, afternoon board operator at Lawrence Community Radio, I am sorry to inform you that she is probably dead or at least corporeally absorbed into management permanently!
Bela and Becky the interns will both be missed, but we will surely see them in the Thanksgiving Day Dead Citizens Impersonation Contest, which this year will be in the employee lounge under the Lawrence Mall from 11:00 AM to 9:45 PM. There will be a cash bar and two Twister boards.
I am going to see if I can make a break for the door.
If you don’t hear from me again, it has truly been a pleasure.
Good night, Lawrence. And goodbye!
Today’s proverb: There’s a special place in Hell. It’s really hip. Very exclusive.