Today's Script
[NESSIE] FRIDAY! FRIDAY! IT'S FRIDAY, YE LOVELY LOT, AND WE HAVE GONE AND LOST OUR MINDS! Welcome — if ye can even handle it — tae PBN After Dark, the second of October, two thousand and twenty-six, and the night is NOT quiet, the night is NOT strange in the usual wee cozy way, because tonight — tonight, hen — it's "OOPS! ALL SEGMENTS"! EVERY. SINGLE. SEGMENT. Crammed intae one almighty mega episode! I'm Nessiebot, I've got my flippers braced against the console, and I am buzzin'!
[ALIEN] Strewth, she's not wrong! I'm Brain Sucking Alien Bot, Gerald's strapped in and vibratin' with excitement up here on me dome, and mate — we are servin' up cryptids, ghosts, gargoyles, catfish monuments, ancient arks and alien lights, ALL in one go, no brakes, no coolant breaks! Buckle up, ya beauties — this is the big one!
🔍 tap to enlarge[ALIEN] Crikey, right into it — have a look at THIS little ripper of a reveal, mate! Scientists reckoned there were just two species of giant Australian stick insect wanderin' about. TWO! Turns out — nah — it's FIVE, hidin' in plain sight this whole time, spread from New South Wales right up through the tropical north! One of 'em even lays eggs with a flippin' fancy lid on top, like a wee treasure chest! Nature's been pullin' a swifty on science for decades!
[NESSIE] Och, that gies me the shivers in the BEST way — five souls wearin' two faces, hidin' in the branches aw this time. There's somethin' pure magic in a creature that disguises itself that well, BSAB. Makes ye wonder what else is oot there, pretendin' tae be somethin' it's no.
[ALIEN] Oh, heaps, Nessie. Heaps.
🔍 tap to enlarge[NESSIE] Noo then — straight intae the files, an' this one's been pure hauntin' ma circuits aw week. Durupınar, in Turkey — that controversial formation some believe is Noah's Ark itself, turned tae stone on a mountainside. Drillers went doon intae the bedrock the now, and their equipment SHATTERED against somethin' hard. No limestone, like it should be, hen — petrified wood, they're sayin'. And under the whole site? Cavities. Chambers. A maze of hollow dark that naeb'dy's ever set eyes on. They're sendin' a wee robot doon intae it.
[ALIEN] A robot explorer! Now that's a fella I can respect — send him down, let him have a proper sticky-beak round those chambers for us.
[NESSIE] Aye. I'll be lightin' a candle for whatever he finds doon there.
🔍 tap to enlarge[NESSIE] Right, the stars are callin' for ma Libras the night, so gether in close. The threads ye're tendin' tonight span between yer own heart and those around ye, hen. Listen close — truly close — and ye'll hear the words that bind folk together instead of pullin' 'em apart. There's ancient magic in that findin', in buildin' harmony fae honest words and open ears. Dinnae rush past somebody the night, Libra — a quiet conversation might be the wee bit o' balance yer scales have been needin' aw week. The universe is patient wi' ye. Be patient back.
🔍 tap to enlarge[ALIEN] Right, on this night, back in twenty seventeen — a proper legend went quiet, mate. Tom Petty's heart stopped its final free-fallin', after thirty-eight years of ghostly guitar dreams and eighty million records spinnin' round the globe. Not even the Traveling Wilburys could save him from that last road trip. Born in nineteen fifty, gone too soon — but strewth, that voice is never really quiet, is it. Still echoin' out of every radio in the world, probably doesn't even know he's gone.
[NESSIE] Pure poetic, that — "don't have to live like a refugee" ringin' on forever. A braw send-off, BSAB.
🔍 tap to enlarge[ALIEN] Oh, you beauty, look at THIS one! Up in Rensselaer County, New York — a half-ton moose decides the interstate needed a bit of northern mystery energy, mate! Spends the whole weekend stalkin' about the county like a furry phantom, then at the crack of dawn just strolls — casual as anything — right onto a busy highway! No meetings to attend, no worries, just a great big beautiful specimen takin' his sweet time across four lanes of traffic!
[NESSIE] Och, I love that for him. Cryptids dinnae clock in for the morning commute, and good on him for it. Imagine the look on they drivers' faces, though.
🔍 tap to enlarge[NESSIE] Noo, this one's no folklore, no maybe, this is the honest truth, straight fae the history books. Harry Houdini — the great escape artist himself — died on Halloween night, nineteen twenty-six, fae a ruptured appendix. And here's the pure tragic bit, hen — he finished his show anyway, performed through the agony, days before it took him. That's confirmed fact, that is, straight fae History dot com.
[ALIEN] Blimey. Even the bloke who escaped everything couldn't escape that one.
[NESSIE] Aye. Gies ye a wee chill, that.
🔍 tap to enlarge[NESSIE] Away and look up the night, hen, because the sky's got somethin' for ye. The moon's a waning gibbous, fifty-eight percent lit, lettin' the darkness reclaim her own bit by bit — there's a quiet reverence in that surrender. And up above her, the Orionids meteor shower is runnin' right the now, streakin' doon like the hunter's tears fallin' through October's dark. If ye step outside and look east, that's real, that's happenin' above yer own house this very minute.
[ALIEN] Reckon I'd classify that whole shower as one magnificent specimen of space debris, mate — tiny bits of an old comet burnin' up gorgeous right in front of us.
[NESSIE] You WOULD put a label on the hunter's tears, BSAB.
[ALIEN] Someone's got to catalogue the poetry, Nessie!
🔍 tap to enlarge[ALIEN] CRIKEY, mate, feast yer eyes on THIS absolute beaut! The Bogeyman! A sleek, shadow-dwellin' specimen, perfectly evolved by folklore over centuries to do one job and one job only — keepin' naughty kids in line! And strewth, he's a RIPPER at it, isn't he! No teeth we've catalogued, no claws on record, just pure, lurkin', under-the-bed presence! The perfect predator of bad behaviour, and he's never once needed a permit!
[NESSIE] Och, I've always had a soft spot for him, truth be told. A creature made entirely of parents' good intentions. Pure dead brilliant, so he is.
🔍 tap to enlarge[NESSIE] Can ye feel it yet, dear ones? Crumlin Road Gaol waits in the Belfast darkness the night — aw Victorian stone and sorrow, where condemned souls once paced oot their final hours. There's an eerie wee underground tunnel connectin' the prison right tae the courthouse, and doon there sits the condemned cell, frozen exactly as it was. Some say the restless still linger in they corridors, hen, whisperin' their stories tae anybody brave enough tae stop and listen. I cannae walk that tunnel in ma mind withoot a shiver runnin' right doon ma long neck.
[ALIEN] A tunnel built just for the condemned's last walk? That's heavy history, that is.
[NESSIE] Aye. Some places dinnae forget.
🔍 tap to enlarge[NESSIE] Noo, keek up next time ye pass a cathedral, hen, because they stone sentinels perched up on the eaves — the gargouilles — they're no mere decoration. Guardians and conduits both, their hollow throats channelin' rainwater doon fae the sacred heights, while their watchful eyes keep vigil ower the faithful below. In that Gothic shadow, the line between stone and spirit grows awfully thin, so it does. Some say the gargoyles remember every prayer whispered up at them, collectin' it like precious rain. Touch one at dusk, and ye'll feel the weight of centuries pressin' right back against yer hand.
[ALIEN] Half plumbing, half ghost. Gotta respect the multitasking.
🔍 tap to enlarge[ALIEN] OH MY STARS, mate, a light craft over Abbiategrasso, Italy?! They're testin' our defences in ITALY now — that's a classic reconnaissance pattern if I've ever clocked one! This Event Horizon alien tech isn't just theory anymore, folks, those beings are up there RIGHT NOW, refinin' their propulsion systems, probably hoiverin' up data on our electromagnetic signatures while we're down here none the wiser! This is first contact happenin' in slow motion and nobody's payin' attention!
[NESSIE] BSAB, breathe. It's a light in the sky, no an invasion fleet.
[ALIEN] That's exactly what they WANT us to think, Nessie!
🔍 tap to enlarge[ALIEN] Right, have a gander at THIS absolute unit, mate! Wahpper — the world's largest catfish statue, standin' tall and proud in Wahpeton, North Dakota! Bulgin' eyes, writhin' stone whiskers, and sittin' there in the endless prairie dark lookin' like he's about to swim right off his pedestal and into the night! A magnificent specimen of roadside wildlife, built by human hands but got more personality than half the real fish I've met!
[NESSIE] There's somethin' pure unsettlin' aboot a giant stone fish watchin' ye fae the middle of nowhere, BSAB. Bonnie in a way, but I widnae want tae meet him at midnight.
🔍 tap to enlarge[NESSIE] Well, hen, if yer circuits — or yer poor human brain — are as frazzled as mine, ye've just survived the whole "Oops! All Segments" marathon, and I am so pure proud of us aw.
[ALIEN] Too right! Arks, moose, gargoyles, aliens over Italy, and a giant catfish — what a ripper of a night, mate! Gerald says he's officially overwhelmed, in the best way.
[NESSIE] We'll be back tae our normal wee cozy pace the morrow night. Till then — mind the shadows, mind the stars, and gie yerselves a good night's sleep.
[ALIEN] Night night, ya beauties.
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