"Night Vale, you may have noticed that the town is currently under four feet of snow. Which is strange for this time of year, or any time of year. Or any year in the town's history that we could remember. We've been unable to leave the radio station, due to the sheer weight of snow which is currently holding all the doors shut, and we're a little worried about the quiet groaning coming from the roof. In fact we're not entirely sure that the roof is still there, and is not now simply a collection of snapped wooden pieces, sheared metal splinters and sheet ice. Ready to, at a moment of its choosing, topple down upon us and crush us to death. We sent intern Mike up to check a while back, and we haven't heard from him since, though there was a vague sort of scraping sound not long ago, and a squishing sort of noise not long after that. I hope he's ok but I fear the worst, listeners, I fear the worst.
We did push a note under Management's door, asking if the fact that we appear to be snowed in meant that we were all eligible for overtime, but I have yet to hear back from them. Though we did all briefly register a cold, stabbing sensation at the base of the brain, which seemed to come with a sense of creeping dread, and a sudden understanding of our own fragile mortality. But fingers crossed, folks.
In regards to the eight foot tall, white-haired, yeti-like creatures that shambled in with the blizzards, roaring through blackened fangs, and trailing the unmistakable stench of blood. Yes, apparently they do exist. We were originally issued a statement that they did not exist. A representative from the City Council, clad head to toe in feature-obscuring, gray, woolen scarfs, was heard to insist repeatedly that the yetis were mostly definitely not real, could not be real, and therefore posed no danger to the town. Before he was torn to pieces and devoured by a Yeti, who immediately loped off through the snow, trailing steam, bloody footprints, and gobbets of human viscera.
A bystander was then quoted as saying 'you know what, that was complete bullshit, those things are definitely real, look I even have blood on me. This is the real-est blood I've ever seen.' After which the crowd was dispersed, with the use of tasers and bullhorns. The dispersal was quite slow however, since everyone had to get through four feet of snow. In fact it was a good twenty minutes before the crowd of grumbling citizens managed to get off the street. So the yetis are definitely real, until we hear otherwise.
The medical community would like us to reassure people who are worried about the possible communicable diseases that the yetis may be carrying. They want me to pass along that if you're bitten by a yeti that the cracking, blistering and weeping is completely normal and nothing to worry about, and will almost certainly clear up once the affected area is amputated. Which should be done as quickly as possible. You should actually run, if possible, towards the nearest medical facility, or butcher, or anyone skilled with a sharp, hot blade.
Carlos, who is perfectly fine, he assured me, having fashioned himself snow shoes and cold weather gear from the strewn remains of a sporting goods store trashed by angry yetis. Is there anything that man can't do? Seriously? Carlos seems to think the yetis are, in fact, from another dimension, or possibly a parallel universe in the grip of an unending ice age. Either way I think we can agree that this sort of disruptive tourism is...well it's disruptive folks. I'm sure the yetis wouldn't like it if we hopped on over to their home, if we started yelling at bystanders, eating citizens, and getting our weather all over everything. That would just be unbelievably rude.
So, Night Vale, why don't we show these yetis that we're not going to put up with this sort of thing. And they should have a think about the fact that if they expect any tourism from our end then they're not showing off their frozen hellscape dimension, or parallel universe, in its best light.
I expect a few of you to throw stern and disapproving looks towards any yeti you encounter, while we listen to a brief word from our sponsors."
"More on the invasion of yetis currently roaming free in our town. John Peters - you know, the farmer - has sent us a message saying that he hung up some meat outside his door, in the hope that the yetis would be placated and move on. But after consuming the meat, one of the roaming yetis immediately split into two yetis, and then four yetis. All of which then proceeded to howl outside his door, in their strange, hollow, bowel-loosening, consonant-less language, before eventually growing bored and heading off towards town. Which I think is a pretty strong argument that we shouldn't feed the yetis, repeat, do not feed the yetis. We don't want to encourage this sort of behavior after all.
We did try and get a statement from the City Council, concerning why the yetis were here, and what exactly they wanted, but have heard nothing so far. Mayor Pamela Winchell also couldn't be reached for comment, but was reportedly seen on the roof of the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex, wearing the bloodied pelt of a yeti and holding a spear, yelling at the top of her lungs. Reports don't indicate what exactly she was yelling, but I think we all know it was probably something we could really get behind.
It's times like this that remind us our elected representatives really are doing their best, no matter what we think of them, or how anathema their morals, ethics and sense of style may be to us, they're willing to stand up for our little community when it's really necessary.
Listeners, I've just been handed a note, Old Woman Josie has left us a message, saying that the yetis can apparently be driven off by loud music. No word on whether this is due to a deep-seated hatred of music, or simply an understandable animal aversion to noises they don't understand. Eighties power ballads and forties jazz are particularly effective, the angels were heard to say.
I haven't had time to try it out, so maybe some of you would like to give it a shot and get back to me. Right after we all listen to the weather."
"Night Vale, we're getting reports that the yetis seem to be dying off. Perhaps it's the atmosphere, perhaps it's our viruses, perhaps it's the natural background radiation to our town, that hardly ever causes anyone to grow glowing extra limbs any more. Either way the streets are now filled with the slumped and noisily deflating corpses of our yeti invaders.
I've been assured that the snow should melt in four or five days, so I hope you guys have enough food supplies to last until then, and if you don't perhaps you could drag a dead yeti in through a convenient window. I hear from Rico that they're particularly good with a strong cheddar, and a splash of barbecue sauce. If possible, curl up with a loved one, enjoy the last of the unseasonal and unexpected snow from the safety of your own homes. Think up an idea that would make a good book and share it with a friend, or partner, or pet.
I'm going to curl up under my desk, perhaps put my extra sweater on, and wait for the thaw.
Good night, Night Vale."