— VRRRAK—SHZZZT STATIC—VVV—DROP TUDUM
RADIO NEBULA 69.99 FTLM![short cosmic jazz jingle—the same one that, according to very unofficial rumors, the KNOWIN'TOLOGY cult uses to brainwash new followers]“Reminder—you’re listening to the late-night podcast
Night with Melody and Jackie Rho™
on Radio Nebula 69.99 FTLM…”
[Dick exhaled loudly into the mic like he was about to deliver something extremely important]“And with you—as always—yes, YOUR…
one and only,
unmatched,
unrivaled,
badass,
and universally adored…
Dick Melody.”
[Pause. Heavy inhale]“And if there’s anyone out there who DOESN’T love me—
you’re a pathetic piece of shit!
And your taste is shit too!”
[Jackie cut in instantly—soft voice, iron control, saving the rating from going straight into the gutter]“Dick… easy.
Everyone loves you. I promise.”
[She added just a hint of theatrical offense]“And by the way…
you got so carried away,
you didn’t even introduce me.”
[She leaned closer to the mic, her voice turning warm, smooth, almost wrapping around the listener]“And sitting right next to the most beloved Dick Melody…
is me—
Jacqueline ‘Jackie’ Ro.”
[Half a second of silence—like she's smiling directly into your ear]“The smartest.
The most stunning.
And, as our dearly adored Dick Melody always says…”
[She perfectly mimics his tone]“‘Damn right—the best DJ in the entire UNIVERSE.'”
[Dick slapped his hand over his mouth, trying to hide a sudden surge of pride]“…Well… yeah… uh… that’s correct.
That is what I say.
Always said it.
And, uh… Jackie, good job repeating that.
Very… professional.”
[Jackie leaned in even closer, lightly tapping the mic—just like Dick does when he's trying to sound important]“Dick’s a little tired today, so don’t be too hard on him.
At his age, he’s still running a late-night show…
we should all be VERY grateful.”
[Her voice turned so gently teasing
that somewhere in the galaxy, three listeners suddenly felt guilty for no reason]“Come on, dear listeners—altogether now…
WOO-HOOO! THANK YOU, SWEET OLD MAN!”
[The rating jumped so hard
Radio Nebula climbed from #24 to #23 in the Top 25,
overtaking the stale GNN—Galactic Nothing Network—
and even the sacred desert broadcast Al-Kawn,
where they usually only discuss wars, more wars,
and got banned in thirty-seven sectors
for "excessive love of war]“…And just a reminder—
we broadcast across the entire galaxy via faster-than-light modulation,
from 21:00 SST, until 09:00—
every Sunday.”
[Dick coughed violently, reclaiming his voice—and what little dignity remained]“Baby… you’re adorable… and thanks for all that…”
[Pause. Breath. A dull thump of his fist on the table]“BUT DON’T YOU DARE CALL ME OLD!
I’m only fifty-six!
I’ve barely lived a third of my life!
You talk like I’m a hundred and fifty!”
[Jackie let out a quiet hum, not even looking at him—
and suddenly her voice softened, almost gentle]“What matters, my dear Dick Melody…
isn’t age.”
[She leaned closer to the mic and read softly—so sincere the studio itself seemed to quiet down]“Don’t matter how old you are… just hold on tight.
They talk you down? Don’t fight it… just breathe, be alright.
The stars got love for those who don’t give in,
You throw out anger—it comes right back again.
It hurts? …yeah, hell with it. Just breathe it through.
They don’t love you? …that’s fine…
You love… you.”
[Across the galaxy, listeners took a deep breath.
And just like that, the rating spiked again—
pushing Radio Nebula past BGS—Blob Galactic Service—
up to #22 in the Top 25][Dick cleared his throat, like he was trying to squeeze the last drop of softness out of his system]“Alright, Baby…
before we turn
our show—’two fucked-up creatures in a galaxy’—
into ‘Sunday night romance hour’……how about you play some Butt Pimple, huh?
Before people start thinking we’ve gone soft.
And that, for the record, is against station policy.”
[Jackie let out that quiet laugh—the one that adds +1.2% rating all by itself]“Whatever you say, Dick.
Pimple it is.”
[Dick inhaled loudly, like he was about to announce either the end of the world
or a brand-new segment—which, to him, is basically the same thing]“Our highly respected station owner…
that FAT SON OF A BITCH…
decided we’d ‘climb the ratings faster’
if we let you, dear gremlins,
send us messages on line 555–69–99.”
[He tapped the table like it was a nuclear launch button]“Apparently… after the last call nearly caused an intergalactic catastrophe—
according to my agent, that slimy bastard Todd—
we are now REQUIRED
to read ALL the shit you send us.”
[Dick snorted into the mic]“Not a radio show anymore—this is a goddamn hotline
for suicide prevention and crisis stabilization
for the most unhinged degenerates in the galaxy.”
[He sighed like a captain handed a crew of absolute idiots]“So…
let’s begin a new segment:‘Voices of Galactic Degenerates.'”