Cecil nodded knowingly. "Imps!" he said brightly. "What can you do?" He looked around the plaza, wondering if he might be able to find this mysterious radio station, and what could be done about the imps. Maybe Carlos was around somewhere... Carlos would know how to fix it. With science!
Cecil did not truly know where he was -- but then, has he ever truly known where he was? Or has he always been a collection of atoms arranged in bones, and blood, and viscera, moving through space? Still, he smiled, grateful that if he had to leave his beloved Night Vale, at least he wasn't in Desert Bluffs.