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FUNDY: Suspected shapeshifters are tired of you speculating on their relationships with people who turned out to be morally corrupt. Stop doing it. Welcome to Las Nevadas.
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FUNDY: Listeners, we need to discuss the new house being built at the edge of town. The one made out of glowing lights that appears to be not a house but a group of hovering fireflies, but which insists it is a house through the Morse Code messages it keeps blinking out. However, it hasn't signed any contracts, and it hasn't been acknowledged in any way as legal, and I personally think that nobody should be allowed to simply call themselves a house. Unless, of course, you are a snail, a crab or a particularly vocal union of bricks, in which case you have every right to do so and I request that you please do not sue me again.
This so-called house has been sighted multiple times since it appeared last week. I myself happened upon it yesterday while taking a walk with my son, Yogurt.
"What's that?" he asked me as we walked by.
"It's just a few lights," I said. "Don't believe the lies it's telling you. It is not a house."
"Why would it be a house, dad?" he said. "Houses don't float."
Naturally, I corrected him, reminding him houses can, in fact, float and that to deny this would be rude to every house that has worked up the courage to float in the first place. "It wouldn't do to knock their self-confidence down," I told him.
"Okaay," he said. "Sorry, floating houses."
I hope all of my listeners with floating houses remember to stand outside and yell compliments at their houses for ten minutes today. It is, after all, House Appreciation Week. Anyone with a house, actually - go outside right now and shout positive things at your houses, whether or not it is floating right now. Who knows! Today could be the day it starts to float! Go on outside, I'll wait. Go on!
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FUNDY: While I wait, a word from our sponsor.
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FUNDY: Alright, are you all back from yelling at your houses? I'm going to assume that you are. So, where was I? Right! I was talking about my walk with my son, where we saw that house that did not look like a house, did not act like a house, and did not smell like a house, but called itself a house anyway. It smelt like fish actually. Salmon. I consider this a personal attack on my heritage. What a rude hou - not-house. How did you like that, floating lights? How did it feel to have your heritage and identity insulted? I bet it felt terrible.
Speaking of my heritage, my father dropped by to hang around the country's entrance and brood again today. Some of you might know him - president of the first independent country in this world, blew up a bunch of land, turned into a ghost for a bit, came back to life and started a failing little business? I know, I know, I don't mention him much, he's kind of the family embarrassment.
Anyway, he dropped by, and I think he was saying some stuff to the owner of our country? But that wasn't really very relevant or anything, or if it was I don't care, because more importantly, he still hasn't visited me! What does it take to visit your son, huh? A few months dead and suddenly he's too angsty for me or something, I can't believe it. I'm the one in the family who's meant to be the angsty one. More on this story as I get more annoyed about it.
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FUNDY: I'm just getting word that the glowing lights that call themselves a house have released a statement by blinking repeatedly at the watching reporters until one of them finally had the sense to get a Morse Code translator. The statement says, "We will sign whatever document is necessary for this house to remain here in Las Nevadas. We will do whatever it takes. We are a house. We are a house. We are a house." Then they repeated 'We are a house.' for another long stretch of time and - yep, apparently are still doing it right now. Some reporters are still listening to the translations from the bored translator, enthralled.
Well, I don't know about you guys, but that doesn't really seem like enough to me. According to my phone, because I just looked this up right now, a house is 'a building for human habitation, especially one that consists of a ground floor and one or more upper storeys and a basement full of war-worn weapons and the bones of monsters'. I'm pretty sure those floating lights don't have any of those, so.
I asked my intern, Slime, to go find out if the lights still smelt of salmon, and I'll tell you guys what they find out when they get back. Of course, I am doubting their ability to smell things in general, because they don't entirely appear to be human, but whatever. They need to get out of here more anyway, they keep leaving all these green patches wherever they sit and it's so annoying to clean up. They don't tend to return from tasks, though, so I might be out of luck on this investigation.
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FUNDY: Now for traffic.
Avoid the roads today. Not in any particular area. Just avoid them. Avoid them whether you're in your car, on your bicycle, on foot, or even time travelling. In fact, if you happen to be time travelling, avoid today. Take another route, listeners. Burrow under the ground, fly using wings if you have any (though if you do then the owner of our nation will confiscate them because they are, of course, entirely illegal), even just stay at home! But avoid the roads, whatever you do. It won't be worth it. It won't be. I swear.
This was traffic.
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FUNDY: Last month - I'm not sure if you remember - three reporters went missing after sighting Quackity (our country's owner and leader) returning from the direction of the prison covered in blood. Since then, it has been illegal to mention or even think about those reporters or sightings, so you might have forgotten, and you should probably forget now that I've reminded you before Quackity sends a god after you or something. Anyway, these reporters have in fact reappeared! They were spotted working in the newest casino, 'GET WHAT YOU DESERVE'. It seems they're staff there now! Good for them. It's a very beautiful casino, architecturally, built by a beautiful god. I'm glad that case is solved, and hope the reporters are doing well at their new jobs.
I reached out to one of them for a comment on where they have all been all of this time, and he said the following:
[Audio: A full minute of silence.]
Thank you for that, Brian. Your wife and children have been worried about you, and I'm sure this will be so, so rewarding. Honestly, these days people just don't even say a simple 'No comment'. You'd think a reporter would know!
You'd think a reporter would know.
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FUNDY: The house of floating lights is really starting to grow on me, listeners. The more I hear about its messages, the more it seems pretty agreeable to me. The translator gave up a while back, so they invited me down with my microphone and equipment and everything to help instead because I actually know Morse Code back from my old war days, and since then it's just been so kind. Saying things like "everything will be okay" and "you are so valid, Fundy" and "no I agree, your father can be a real bitch sometimes" and do you know what? I feel so heard. And right now - I'm still here right now, you see - it's telling me that it's glad I'm warming up to it. Oh, what's that, house of floating lights? Oh - awww, house, that's so lovely of you to say! You too, you too.
It's so nice to find supportive people - or animated objects and floating lights, I guess - who are there for you these days! I should come visit more often. In fact, I don't mind the salmon smell so much, it's really making me feel like this house could be... someone of a similar species to me... maybe even another -
Hey - hey! Hey, Quackity, stop, it said it was going to sign whatever papers it needed - Quackity! Leave the house alone!
While I settle this dispute - Quackity, no! - I bring you the weather. [fading away] Stop! Stop it!
# Weather: Mechanical Angel by Sunday Driver #
FUNDY: Welcome back, listeners. Sorry about that earlier. A lot of things have happened while you were listening to the weather.
So, first of all, I'm back at the station. I hurried back as soon as I could - well, no, that's a lie. I strolled up quite calmly and entirely on my own time, and I even stopped for ice cream. But I am back, and do I have a story to tell!
After I fought Quackity away from the house enough to reason with him, we finally settled on asking the house for a pledge of ultimate loyalty. Quackity said that it wouldn't be very helpful to have - and I quote - "some fucking glitter" in the army, but I convinced him that anyone who knows Morse Code would be pretty useful in some way for wartime, and he just rolled his eyes and agreed. Between you and me, listeners, I think he has a soft spot for me.
Just as it finally seemed it was all over, though, suddenly the entire house just exploded! No warning at all, just a very sudden explosion, kind of like fireworks. So as you can imagine, it was absolutely terrifying, and Quackity and I immediately started screaming and brandishing our swords. You guys know how it is.
But then who should come out of the light show but this - this magnificent, glowing being with a grand sword and a set of golden chains spinning around its head in these floating halos and - and these - he was very handsome, listeners. He reminded me a bit of my ex, I should say, except more godly and less of a scumbag. Quackity seemed pretty intimidated, but I stepped in to save the day - and maybe, if I ever see that god again, save the date, you know what I mean? Hah. For now, though, I just asked him politely if he was still up for pledging ultimate loyalty to Las Nevadas.
"Nah," he said. "I'm busy."
"Understandable, have a nice day," I said, and then he was gone. No flash of light or anything, he just - one second there, the next he wasn't!
It was very cool of him, I think.
Maybe some day, he'll come back. Maybe some day, my father will visit me. Maybe some day, my house will gain the confidence to float, and so will yours, and this city will be full of floating houses simply oozing with self-esteem. Maybe some day, we'll float away, and we will be able to do nothing to stop it. For now, though, we sit in our homes under the lights of the casinos and wait for the day something happens to arrive.
Stay tuned for the sound of revenge, betrayal and most significantly, legacy.
And as always, good night, Las Nevadas. Good night.