[Intro — Accordion, light rain, microphone crackle] [Barnacle — Gravelly spoken voice] Blackwater Broadcast. Titans Maw. Tack asked for somebody else to do the weather. [Brine — Proudly] And I have prepared a professional report. [Mara] Is it longer than the weather? [Brine] Quiet at the back. [Fiddle pickup] [Verse 1 — Barnacle] Brine put his snout beside the mic, Said, “Rain is possible later tonight.” One drop landed on Mara’s book. She closed it tight and gave him a look. Another hit the empty tin, Then half the afternoon came in. Tack looked up through a strip of sky— [Tack] Does “later” mean “directly in my eye”? [Chorus — Mara leads; crew answers] WE’VE GOT WEATHER ON THE INSIDE! RAIN UPON THE FLOOR! A lovely coastal atmosphere— We couldn’t ask for more! There’s a drip beside the microphone, A puddle by the chair— Blackwater’s bringing you the outside Whether you want it there! [Brine — Spoken] A very immersive broadcast. [Mara] Fetch the canvas. [Verse 2 — Mara, lively female lead] Barnacle moved the desk back dry, Tack kept one wing above his eye. A loose strip of thatch went off downwind; Brine said, “I meant the rain coming in.” I found the folded canvas sheet, Kept my ledger clear of dripping feet. Tack said, “I can take the book.” I nearly said no— Then took another look. [Mara — Spoken] Dry crate. Under the shelf. Not a page missing. [Tack] Does that include the fish account? [Mara] That one’s settled. [Tack] Just checking. [Chorus — Mara and Barnacle; full crew] WE’VE GOT WEATHER ON THE INSIDE! RAIN UPON THE FLOOR! A lovely coastal atmosphere— We couldn’t ask for more! There’s a drip beside the microphone, A puddle by the chair— Blackwater’s bringing you the outside Whether you want it there! [Instrumental — Fiddle and accordion race] [Rain-tin rhythm joins the stomps] [Verse 3 — Barnacle] Tack shut the crate, then took the cord, Flew the light end over the board. Ptera wings through the silver rain, Dropped it by the outside peg again. Brine kept the other end down low, Deino jaws wouldn’t let it go. Mara spread the canvas over the gap, Tied it down while the corners flapped. [Barnacle — Spoken] Captain, any change in the forecast? [Brine — Muffled, holding the cord] Mmmph. [Mara] His most accurate report so far. [Bridge — Gentle accordion; Mara leads] Under that patch, we caught our breath, Listened to the rain we’d finally kept On the other side of where we stood. One corner dripped— But the canvas held good. Tack brought the ledger, cover wiped dry, All the pages safe inside. I said, “Thank you.” He said, “See? Occasionally, you can leave things with me.” [Brine] Can somebody take this rope? [Mara] It’s tied now. You can let go. [Beat of silence] [Brine] I knew that. [Build — Full fiddle, stomps and crew laughter] [Final Chorus — Mara, strong female lead; crew responses] WE HAD WEATHER ON THE INSIDE! NOW IT’S MOSTLY OUT! One small drip has kept its job— We’re working that one out! There’s a canvas on the rooftop, There’s a tin beneath the leak— Blackwater’s still on the air, Though the roof has learned to speak! [Barnacle] Any final words from our weather expert? [Brine — Grandly] Current conditions: Wet outside. Less wet inside. End of report. [Tack] I could get used to this. [Outro — Accordion fades; one drip into a tin] [Mara — Spoken] Roof needs a proper repair. The crossing’s still closed. And the older debts are dry and readable. [Brine] An unfortunate side effect. [Barnacle] Blackwater Broadcast. Same crew. Slightly more sky than advertised. [One final drip]
