“What? Oh, Jesus Christ… you’re not the one who’s allowed to come to that conclusion. By bringing it up, you’re making me want to hold out longer.”
“Blood and… violence, Carlos?” He paused to look up at the dripping ichor that was coming from the ceiling. Well, coming from something that was on the ceiling. Hard to fit a giant man in a small booth after all. That sure was one heck of a handshake.
“I’m not sure what you mean by that. I’ve never liked that sort of thing. I have to close my eyes and drink plenty of herbal tea before I can handle a single minute of Nanalan.”
“Your words for it are merely different from mine – it’s the same thing,” Carlos said. “Call it… ‘Language Variation’, I guess. What you call ‘violent’ isn’t necessarily what I would call ‘violent’.”
“Oh– so this is some sort of cultural thing?” His finger left the button momentarily so that he could adjust the microphone better. This sounds like some good wholesome bonding, here. “I see! Just like how in science-talk the word ‘consequence’ can mean something good or bad. So what does ‘violent’ mean to you then?”
Carlos made a slightly-annoyed groaning noise. “Um… it’s… that thing you do… the uh… what you call ‘decorating’. THat’s… I would consider that violent.”
The noise from the other end of the call indicated that something had fallen off of the ceiling and fell with a wet smack. It’s for the best that Carlos not know what part of what just came loose in there.
“… Oh. Is that why you wouldn’t go inside your newly-furnished lab that one time? Gosh, I’m so sorry Carlos. I When I come over should I warn you next time?”
“You’re not coming over,” Carlos said firmly. “Not at all, do you understand? No language variation – I mean exactly what I said.” He was going to stop this train right there.
“Buuuut it’s already on my planner. Annnnd I already reserved a few vacation days by working overtime.” He didn’t seem to be taking Carlos’ reprimand very seriously. Already he was flipping through the pages of his planner to find the date. “I just thought it would be fair to ask if the restraining order was dropped or not before I came into Night Vale.”
“No! No, it is not! I think the entirety of Night Vale still has a restraining order against you, Lauren, and any other ex-Strex employees!”
What? His brow furrowed as he tried to puzzle this out. “I? Hm? That’s… that’s strange, there. If there’s a restraining order on me then why was I invited?” He tapped at the pop filter trying to figure it out. It resulted in an echoic tapping feedback that was poor manners indeed for a professional radio host.
“Aaaare you sure? Because the letter that was wish-mailed to me says here that I’m invited to some sort of ‘overdue judgement’ party. It’s in cursive which is the friendliest font next to Comic Sans.”
“What?? How the hell –”
Carlos stopped himself. Kevin was mistaken – that’s all it was. Wishful-thinking on his part.
“The answer is No, Kevin,” Carlos said instead.
“Carlos– your swearing–” He winced at the verbal rebuking he received.
“… Alright. I’m terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you, Carlos. You are a busy man after all.” Kevin sighed and leaned back in his chair. He shouldn’t be using the booth for personal affairs but having an audience of one was certainly better than the eternal desert isolation. “I must admit I am a… bit… disappointed to have my plans canceled. I haven’t received an invitation that tersely-worded since the Picnic.”
“Maybe invite yourself to your own tea party,” Carlos suggested, half-dripping with sarcasm. “I am very busy, Kevin. Too busy. Now leave my radio alone.”
The Perfect Scientist 