//------------------------------//
// The Library 
// Story: Welcome, Listeners 
// by MisterMoniker 
//------------------------------//

	That moon. That old moon. One day that moon’s going to fall… and, perhaps, crush us all.

Welcome… to Ponyville.





Good evening, listeners. I assume it is a good evening, as none of you have been abducted by the mysterious hooded figures that have begun roaming the streets of our fair town since last week’s opening of the Pony Pet Play Park. That would be impossible, as there have been no confirmed accounts of the hooded figures abducting anypony at all, and even if somepony were to be, quote-on-quote, “abducted,” there would almost certainly be at least one witness. That, listeners, is simply how it is. We are all perfectly safe. Our thoughts and prayers go out to dear Ditzy Doo, who has barricaded her home from a supposed infiltration by these same figures. 

Miss Doo, I’ve already told you. You and your children are safe. Terribly so. There is absolutely no living thing that can reach you now. 

And now, on to the news.

Following last week’s splendid opening of the Play Park, today is the day that much of Ponyville’s scholastic community has been waiting for. That’s right, listeners, the Golden Oaks Public Library has been reopened. Boasting a much larger collection of titles both fiction and nonfiction, the library has been improved in every way. Former librarian, Princess Twilight Sparkle, had this to say about the renovations of what was once her home and place of business:

“It’s a disgrace! These new, so-called ‘librarians’ won’t even let me in the front door! They’re not even ponies! This is my house, you jerks!”

What a racist asshole.

Narrow-minded remarks about the new librarians and the delicate subject of their race aside, what sort of princess - no, what sort of pony - wouldn’t gladly give up her home in pursuit of a social and scholastic achievement that benefits the entire town? Would she rather continue to force our children to live by her, well, utterly spartan catalogue system and complete disregard for any powerful academic mind other than her personal idol, Star Swirl the Bearded? We’ve seen your frightening attempts at cosplay, Princess, and we at Ponyville Community Radio believe that your obsession over just one of the many role models that our young ones should have an opportunity to look up to is just selfish.

The new Golden Oaks Public Library offers an autobiography section that includes not only Star Swirl’s collected memoirs, but the twelve-and-a-half City Council-approved volumes of the 67-volume Encyclopediae Puddinghead collection.

Besides that, the new Golden Oaks Public Library can provide an entirely dragon-free reading experience, something Princess Twilight’s library failed to achieve. And as we all know, listeners, dragons are not to be trusted. They have also been known to spread germs. But don’t take my word for it; read all about the true nature of dragons and learn for yourselves. At the library.

Listeners, I want to be the first to thank you all for your assistance this past week in the ongoing search for our ex-intern, Featherweight. Several days ago I requested your help in finding our wayward employee who had been dispatched in the general vicinity of the Pony Pet Play Park. He has been missing for five days now and, according to Station Management, is now declared deceased for the purpose of posthumous separation from the Ponyville Community Radio service. The five day, town-wide search has been officially called off by the secret police with only four casualties to speak of. Those numbers aren’t bad, everypony, but I believe we can do better next time if we give it our all.

To the parents of Featherweight, the intern, we regret to inform you that your son was lost in the line of community radio duty. He will be missed. Perhaps someday Featherweight will find a way to make it home to us all. In the event that he does return from the grave to haunt you, dear listeners, call Prince Shining Armor’s secret police. They are fully equipped to deal with rogue phantasms and disgruntled employees alike. And now, a moment of silence.

Immediately followed by a word from our sponsor.

[The keening of dozens of crickets and a single weeping foal rises in volume and intensity for several minutes, followed by exactly 57 seconds of radio silence.]

This message has been brought to you by the Ponyville City Council. 

I have something exciting to tell you, listeners. Do you remember Lyra Heartstrings, the adventurous, entrepreneurial scientist that last week announced her plans to study our beautiful town? 

Sweet, sweet Lyra. Her cerulean mane, with a dignified stripe of vanilla racing out from behind her ear… that flawless mane that frames such a winning smile. Her laugh, soft with peals of tinkling celeste sharps and an almost undetectable sultry undertone. 

Lyra stopped by the station earlier this morning, listeners. She wished me a very good morning as she did her best to avoid the door to the Station Management offices on her way in. She seemed almost in a hurry, but I managed to busy her with small talk. Her favorite color is orange, because nothing rhymes with it. Lyra and her perfect mane then left me with a parting gift: it appears to be a small, black metronome with a curious purple gem embedded in the top of the device. She stated, in a voice not unlike the sweet vibrato of an angel, that I should “keep it close.” I’ll admit, listeners, that I’m not entirely sure what to do with this gift. I haven’t been musically inclined since my own years of internship here at the station. But it being a present from a very dedicated team of scientists and, of course, Lyra, I’ll cherish it all the same. 

And now for today’s weather.

There is something lurking in the Whitetail Woods.

I’m not talking about the last tatters of the Changeling swarm, dear listeners. Far from it. First of all, most of the remaining Changelings that had been making the Woods their temporary home have been taken home by loving and understanding Ponyville families. After their mandatory Friendship Assurance Indoctrination, courtesy of Prince Shining Armor’s secret police, of course. 

Second of all, whatever is out there appears to be feeding on the last of them.

Big Macintosh - you know, the farmer - told Sleet Swift, the intern, his point of view on the budding situation: 

“Reckon that’s a lotta bodies. Eeyup.”

Further investigation of the Sweet Apple Acres farming compound revealed, accounting as best we could given the nature of the corpses, approximately twenty Changeling drones scattered around the property. Many of the bodies appeared to have been chewed upon. Tooth marks inconsistent with any of the Everfree Forest’s natural predators were found in the remains. A series of shuffling tracks in the soil are the only clue we have to the location of our visitor: whatever it is, the tracks confirm that it left bearing west for the Whitetail Woods. Old Mare Granny Smith speculated on the nature of the creature leaving these grisly reminders on her doorstep.

“It’s that dern’d Walker agin, y’ idjits! Ol’ Walker comes ‘round here once inna blue moon, takes what’e wants, who’e wants, whene’er ‘e wants! Wuzzah… ? Soup’s on?”

Further questions revealed that she was told this by angels. You know the ones.

Whatever the case, listeners, if you live near the western edge of town, I advise you keep a close eye and a short leash on your pets. The Walker will return. Old Mare Granny Smith’s angels said so. More on this story as it develops.

Last night’s grudge match hoofball game between the Ponyville Elementary Pickle Barrels and the Appleloosa Aardvarks was interrupted briefly during the fourth quarter as an unidentified presence possessed one of the players on the field. Pickle Barrels receiver, Scootaloo, was struck by an ochre bolt of lightning at the kickoff. Blazing with infernal light from her mouth and eyes, she managed to catch the ball in a telekinetic field of fetid energies and sprint to the endzone as the Aardvarks’ defensive line failed to hold onto her now-incorporeal body. 

Double Tap, the Appleloosa Aardvarks hoofball coach, attempted to call for a penalty against the Pickle Barrels as the use of active or passive magic, unicorn or otherwise, is against league rules. The presence possessing Scootaloo found Double Tap in contempt of the entire game and promptly escorted the surly stallion from this plane of existence. With Double Tap indefinitely suspended from life, the Aardvarks were forced to forfeit the win to Ponyville. 

After the game, Scootaloo was reported as saying she was glad that whatever helped her out there was a big fan of the Pickle Barrels, and that she invited it back for future events. The Pickle Barrels were then treated to a pizza party at Tortellini’s Pizza Place for their exemplary performance on the field. 

The Aardvarks, on the other hoof, undoubtedly returned to their homes, if they have any, where it is assumed they were punished with no supper. We can only imagine that many Appleloosan fathers wept bitter tears tonight. 

Goodness, they’re dreadful.

Before we finish up for the night, listeners, I have a short list of upcoming town events that has been released by the City Council. 

Next week, we can look forward to the grand re-opening of the Ponyville Lanes Bowling Alley and Arcade, as well as everypony’s favorite: Pre-Election Day Insurance Collection Day. Remember, Prince Shining Armor’s secret police will be visiting your homes to relieve you of an item or loved one of great sentimental value to ensure that you make the correct choice come Election Day. I know we’ll all do whatever it takes to ensure the continuing safety of those closest to us.

The following week will largely be dominated by the upcoming preparations for Winter Wrap-Up. Make sure you purchase enough ammunition this year, listeners; nopony appreciates running dry while wrapping up the season. 

I apologize. The rest of the list appears to be coated in a viscous, black substance that renders all following weeks unintelligible. That’s curious. I can just make out the words “void,” “crucible,” and something about the Homeowners Association. Well, I’m sure it’s nothing terribly important. 

Well, everypony, our time tonight is at an end. I’ll leave you with these thoughts:

A swarm in May is worth a load of hay; a swarm in June is worth a silver spoon. A swarm in July should be wary. July is open season and market prices skyrocket.

Good night, listeners. Good night.





Today’s weather performed by the Cantabile Orchestra. Originally composed by Damjan Mravunac.
Welcome to Night Vale is owned by Commonplace Books.