1.11 - Plague of Clicks
Hello, listeners. It is [click] in Mercy Mountain once [click], and I, Julian [click], am here to [click] your nocturnal souls.
[intro]
As you may [click] noticed, listeners, there is a [click] of a problem [click] town tonight. For [click] reason, every few words [click] replaced by a click [click] the tongue. This has [click] everyone in town. It is [click] annoying, especially as there [click] no way [click] predict which [click] the sound will replace. [click] has put me [click] a bad mood, to be [click]. I can’t even swear properly.
Moving [click]. Let’s [click] a look [click] town. The salesman [click] Dogwood Crest, the residential [click] just south of Mill Street. [click] stops by each house, [click] not everyone answers. Some [click] just aren’t looking to buy.
[click] Snyder, Mercy Mountain [click] College professor, [click] a hole in his backyard. [click] is already four feet deep, and [click] deeper. [click] is desperate to bury [click] map to Atlantis. Why now, [click] wonder?
Carter Bycofski is [click] a walk tonight instead [click] a run, as he sprained [click] ankle by falling [click] the stairs. Even his dog [click] a reflective vest. Cute.
Cara Pinkerton, [click] woman known [click] for keeping tennis [click] as pets, dances to [click] Beethoven composition that was recorded [click] he performed at Madison [click] Garden for the [click] time.
Penelope Dunlap on the west [click] of town is nowhere to be found.
The [click] wizard Znerp is frantically [click] together ingredients into [click] cauldron, as though [click] to undo a grave mistake.
And now [click] a word from [click] sponsor. Lipton. Break down [click] word. Lip. Ton. Isn’t that interesting? [begins to laugh nervously] [click] won’t make [click] lips weigh a ton. Why [click] you make a joke [click] that? [becomes serious, angry] Why would [click] make that joke. [click] not funny. It won’t happen. [calm] Lipton. Drink [click] tea. It won’t disfigure you.
[interlude]
[click] of you listeners [click] contacted the station asking [click] Shinji, how I’m doing, and [click]. I appreciate all the concern. [click] doing…well? No. I’m not. [click] don’t know how I’m doing, but [click] not well. I miss Shinji, [click] than anything. But Syd Jones [click] the other Missing Persons Investigators [click] find them.
In the meantime, [click]—my necromancer scientist friend—dragged [click] to the New River Summer Fest. I [click] not been wanting to go out [click], for…reasons. But [click] bought me some cotton candy, [click] I petted an alpaca, so [click] was nice. I suppose I [click] a fine time.
At [click] the folks from towns [click] the New River seemed to [click] a good time at [click] fest. Children chased each other, [click] laughed, homemade goods were sold [click] bought. Local bands played [click] the days and evenings. At night, lights [click] strung up along canopies [click] food trucks and were lit, [click] stars brought down to earth.
Listeners, I can see [click] Elderly Juniper [click] has cast her runestones to [click] to find the cause of [click] tongue-clicking [click]. They told her that [click] is a curse, sourced from [click] trailer on the edge of [click].
It [click] as though the self-proclaimed wizard Znerp [click]…messed up. He appears to [click] accidentally released the curse upon [click] Mountain, which was [click] for the kudzu taking over [click] porch. Now he has taken to [click] to the effigy of one of the old gods, [click] for a cure for the plague [click] hath wrought.
Oh, listeners. Did [click] lights just flicker? Those [click] at the station did. I am [click] out the window and [click] dark, greenish clouds blacking [click] the stars, and [click] see hail careening [click] from the clouds of [click]. There goes my car.
[click] to this prerecorded horoscope reading [click] I check this out.
July 15th. Cancer. Your day will be happier if you don’t go to that doctor’s appointment today, where bad news is likely. Eat apples instead, to stave off the doctors. Maybe the apples will also help with the cancer. That’s the bad news we warned you about. You have cancer, Cancer.
Good news, listeners! The plague of tongue-clicking is gone! How, you ask? The local coven crawled out of the refrigerator-accessible tunnels beneath the town where they live and summoned a powerful storm to wash away the curse. The entire town should now be cured.
The coven also revoked Znerp’s cauldron license and confiscated his cauldron so that he cannot do this again, at least not for another six months, when he will be allowed to regain his license and equipment.
[interlude]
The clouds are now steel gray, and the hail has faded into a steady rain that taps on the station roof. I love summer rain, listeners. Mostly, I love being inside while it rains; it is best when you make it inside the door just as it begins to fall. This kind of weather makes everything that much cozier, despite the season. Perfect for light blankets and tea and books and snuggles. Sometimes, though, it is fun to run in the rain, if the raindrops are not too cold nor too warm.
Though, when it stops, outdoors quickly become an oppressive, humid hell, and if you left your windows open to better hear the rain, you’d better close them quickly if you don’t want your home to steam you alive.
Anyway.
[sighs] Time to go home, I suppose.
Stay tuned for the sound of a lonely person lying quietly on their bed, staring up at the ceiling and wishing a certain person was home to hug her. Have a wonderful rest of your night, Mercy Mountain.
