Near Midnight, September 22nd

Oskar: Well, that about wraps up our show for the night. And everyone knows what special night it is, right?
Mort: Ooooh, I know! It's a week and a day until Halloween!
Oskar: If you add another month, sure. Aaaaaand...?
Mort: Uhmm...yesterday was the full moon? Someone's birthday? The first time in a week that I didn't spill coffee on you?
Oskar: It's the Autumnal Equinox, you idiot. And, as I'm sure the rest of the court is aware, that means the Crown Exchange is tonight, in Autumn Court. The whole Freehold is expected to be there, and dear listeners, that includes us. We'll be reporting live from the event, so stay tuned.
Mort: But if they're at the event, and WE'RE at the event, who are we reporting for?
Oskar:...
Mort: Also, can I pick the last song for the night?
Oskar: Fine, you little fuck. Pick the song.
Mort: Raaaaaaaaadical! Alright then lovely listeners, we've got some Black Sabbath up for you tonight! It's a Dio classic--may his ever-rocking soul rest in peace--and with this whole transition coming up, I think it's pretty fitting.
Oskar: Just don't make us late by insisting on an air guitar solo.
Mort: I totally rock that air guitar, man. Hit it!

Oskar: Oh. OH. Ah, listeners, this just in...the crown did not go to Falk. Repeat, the crown did NOT go to Falk. I don't know what just happened, some reaction with the Wyrd, I...

(a long pause, with filtered noise and voices in the background)

Mort? Mort, did you just faint on me? Get up, we have reporting to do! Damn it! If Falk doesn't have the crown, who does? We'll let you know as soon as we can! At least, I will if this lughead doesn't get up soon!

Oskar: Hey listeners, we’re back from our break, and no closer to finding the crown. It’s like a friggin’ circus here in Autumn Court, as everyone runs around in search. I just hope no one runs into Falk--he looked about ready to give someone a glasgow grin to match his, last I saw him--

Mort: Wait. Hold up. Where am I? Am I...dead?

Oskar: You sure look like it, ya’ lazy bum. Not that that’s new. *sigh* Get up. You passed out when the crown disappeared.

Mort: The crown--oh! Yeah! So who has it now?

Oskar: If I knew, I’d tell you, but no one has a clue. But we’re hoping that soon--hold on, move over, I think I see someone coming out of the forest. Been awhile since anyone’s even come in, and this is the first time...hold up, is that Luce?

Mort: Luce? Does he even go here?

Oskar: Seems he does now. And listeners, he’s got the crown. Strutting through the streets like he owns the place. Er, well, I guess he does now.

Mort: The courtless feather-duster? Well shit, wasn’t expecting that.

Oskar: No one was, you idiot. That’s why we had to go looking! Who’d you think would get it?

Mort: Uhmm...me?

Oskar: Ha ha. Very funny. Hope he just doesn’t ask us to bow.

Mort: Like you should complain. You’re low enough to the ground already!

Oskar: Shut your hole before I knock you unconscious this time!

Mort: Oh, look. There’s Falk. Think he knows who’s got the crown?

Oskar: Judging by that expression...I’m afraid he does. Here, how about we hide and watch from the rooftops or something, where it’s safe?

Mort: Hiding. That’s like, our specialty! Oooh, I hope there’s a good brawl. *a long pause* Er, I mean, I hope not. Because that would be really problematic and stuff. But if there IS a brawl--

Oskar: Okay, next song now, we’ll keep you posted folks!