Blueface and chrisean rock sex tapes
[STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 50.000$+ INVENTORY. M9 Fade, M4 Poseidon, BFK Freehand, Crimson Kimono, Nomad Fade, Skeleton, Kara Lore, Bayo Autotronic, AWP Fade, Kara Damas, BFK Ultra, Kara Freehand, Kara Bright, M9 Damas, Omega, Tiger Strike, Flip MF, Bayo Tiger, Deagle Blaze, Talon & More
2023.05.30 22:25 _Triple_ [STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 50.000$+ INVENTORY. M9 Fade, M4 Poseidon, BFK Freehand, Crimson Kimono, Nomad Fade, Skeleton, Kara Lore, Bayo Autotronic, AWP Fade, Kara Damas, BFK Ultra, Kara Freehand, Kara Bright, M9 Damas, Omega, Tiger Strike, Flip MF, Bayo Tiger, Deagle Blaze, Talon & More
Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory
Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.
All Buyouts are listed in cash value.
KNIVES
★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $2500
★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $822
★ Butterfly Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $616
⎯★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $1300
★ Bayonet Autotronic FN, B/O: $1050
★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW, B/O: $629
★ Bayonet Bright Water FT, B/O: $326
★ Bayonet Safari Mesh BS, B/O: $233
⎯★ Karambit Lore FT, B/O: $1110
★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $840
★ Karambit Freehand MW, B/O: $784
★ Karambit Bright Water MW, B/O: $759
⎯★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $751
⎯★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1156
★ Nomad Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $544
★ Nomad Knife Blue Steel WW, B/O: $318
⎯★ Flip Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $646
★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $574
★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $552
★ Flip Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $257
★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $255
★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $287
⎯★ Huntsman Knife Lore FN, B/O: $461
★ Huntsman Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $436
★ Huntsman Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $353
★ Huntsman Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $212
★ Huntsman Knife Bright Water FT, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT MW, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT BS, B/O: $123
★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $375
★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $363
★ Bowie Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $269
★ Bowie Knife Crimson Web WW, B/O: $192
★ Bowie Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $159
★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $126
⎯★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $616
★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $412
★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe FT, B/O: $227
⎯★ Falchion Knife Lore FT, B/O: $214
★ Falchion Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $192
★ Falchion Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $105
⎯★ Survival Knife Crimson Web BS, B/O: $216
★ Survival Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $198
★ Survival Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $111
⎯★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $368
★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $228
★ Shadow Daggers, B/O: $201
★ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $108
★ Shadow Daggers Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $105
★ Shadow Daggers Black Laminate FT, B/O: $99
★ Shadow Daggers Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $85
⎯★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $1700
★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $223
★ Gut Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $203
★ Gut Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $191
★ Gut Knife Case Hardened BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $138
★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $111
⎯★ Classic Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $146
★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $168
⎯★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $476
★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $375
⎯★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $1137
★ Talon Knife, B/O: $608
★ Paracord Knife, B/O: $305
★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97
GLOVES
★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $204
★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $142
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
⎯★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1215
★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $672
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $305
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander BS, B/O: $140
★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web BS, B/O: $137
★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot FT, B/O: $75
⎯★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $359
★ Driver Gloves Imperial Plaid BS, B/O: $229
★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $77
★ Driver Gloves Racing Green FT, B/O: $48
⎯★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $739
★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $733
★ Sport Gloves Arid BS, B/O: $292
⎯★ Hand Wraps Giraffe MW, B/O: $212
★ Hand Wraps Leather FT, B/O: $160
★ Hand Wraps Desert Shamagh MW, B/O: $101
⎯★ Broken Fang Gloves Yellow-banded MW, B/O: $185
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point FT, B/O: $67
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point WW, B/O: $59
⎯★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened BS, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald FT, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald BS, B/O: $62
WEAPONS
AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130
AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70
AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge FT, B/O: $72
⎯AWP Fade FN, B/O: $1039
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Wildfire MW, B/O: $95
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP Duality FN, B/O: $81
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Electric Hive FT, B/O: $55
⎯Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $623
Desert Eagle Emerald Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $241
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Printstream FT, B/O: $54
⎯M4A1-S Blue Phosphor FN, B/O: $434
StatTrak™ M4A1-S Bright Water MW, B/O: $55
⎯M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1465
M4A4 Asiimov BS, B/O: $55
M4A4 Hellfire MW, B/O: $50
⎯USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $72
USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69
StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $139
⎯AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $234
P90 Run and Hide FT, B/O: $147
Five-SeveN Candy Apple FN, B/O: $61
Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory
Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.
Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.
Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.
2023.05.30 22:25 fiercepitboss In July 1975, a young woman disappeared from her apartment complex without a trace. Ten years later, a nearby electrician would commit two shocking child murders in South Carolina. Was Denise Newsom Porch the victim of a suspected serial killer?
Background
Denise Porch and her husband of one year, Rodney, lived in Charlotte, North Carolina, having recently moved there from the nearby town of Denton. The 21-year-old was the apartment manager for Yorktown Apartments off Tyvola Road, where she and her husband also resided. Theirs was regarded as a loving marriage between two childhood sweethearts. At the time of her disappearance, she and her husband were eagerly awaiting an upcoming concert for the soft rock group Seals & Croft.
Disappearance
On July 31, 1975, Rodney returned home from work at 8 p.m. He found a note from Denise taped to the front door, which said she had slipped out to show apartments to a prospective renter and expected to arrive back before 3 p.m.
There were a number of red flags: the television had been left on, and her Chevy Camaro was still in the driveway. She hadn’t taken her pocketbook with her. Neighbors had reported seeing Denise talking to a man outside that afternoon, but none of this eyewitness information ever lead to any leads.
Denise was declared legally dead in 1982.
Larry Gene Bell
At the time of her disappearance, an unassuming electrician named Larry Gene Bell lived about 300 yards away from Yorktown Apartments.
Bell, originally from Alabama, had spent his adult years shuffling back and forth between the Charlotte and Columbia, South Carolina areas, holding a series of unremarkable jobs. Eventually settling in Lexington County, South Carolina, the seemingly normal former Marine would go on to commit two shocking murders.
Shari Faye Smith, 17, was abducted outside her home on May 31, 1985. After a series of mocking phone calls to her family, Bell had forced Shari to write a “Last Will and Testament” to her parents before ultimately killing her.
Only two weeks later, Debra May Helmick, 9, had been found murdered following a continued dialogue between Bell and the Smith family—it is widely believed that Shari Smith’s older sister, Dawn, was the initial object of his infatuation, and Debra’s murder was nothing more than boiled-over frustration taken out on yet another young blonde.
Advancements in handwriting forensics ultimately led to Bell’s capture. Following a trial largely characterized by his numerous unhinged outbursts, Bell was eventually sentenced to death. He died via electric chair on October 4, 1996.
Bell’s Possible Involvement in Denise’s Disappearance
Aside from the fact that he was living nearby at the time of her disappearance, authorities have other reasons—albeit, coincidental—to believe he could have been involved.
For one, Denise was a young woman with blonde hair in her early twenties; the same profile as another object of his murderous lust, Dawn Smith. It is known that Bell liked to target specific blondes but would settle on killing another one if the opportunity arose.
There are also shades of similar MO’s involved in Shari’s capture and murder and Denise’s disappearance. Shari’s kidnapping took place in broad daylight, right at the end of her own family’s driveway. The unidentified suspect in Denise’s disappearance met with her outside in the middle of the day, which would seem equally brazen given that she was well-known in that area due to her status as apartment manager.
Without a body or a game-changing new lead, solving this nearly 50-year mystery doesn’t seem very possible. But the close proximity of an infamous predator to the scene of the disappearance, combined with the victim’s profile, may provide us with some clues.
Links
The Disappearance of Denise Porch
Charley Project
Charlotte Observer Article, 2012
Missing Persons Wiki: Denise Porch
Forensic Files Episode “Last Will”
submitted by fiercepitboss to UnresolvedMysteries [link] [comments]
Denise Porch and her husband of one year, Rodney, lived in Charlotte, North Carolina, having recently moved there from the nearby town of Denton. The 21-year-old was the apartment manager for Yorktown Apartments off Tyvola Road, where she and her husband also resided. Theirs was regarded as a loving marriage between two childhood sweethearts. At the time of her disappearance, she and her husband were eagerly awaiting an upcoming concert for the soft rock group Seals & Croft.
Disappearance
On July 31, 1975, Rodney returned home from work at 8 p.m. He found a note from Denise taped to the front door, which said she had slipped out to show apartments to a prospective renter and expected to arrive back before 3 p.m.
There were a number of red flags: the television had been left on, and her Chevy Camaro was still in the driveway. She hadn’t taken her pocketbook with her. Neighbors had reported seeing Denise talking to a man outside that afternoon, but none of this eyewitness information ever lead to any leads.
Denise was declared legally dead in 1982.
Larry Gene Bell
At the time of her disappearance, an unassuming electrician named Larry Gene Bell lived about 300 yards away from Yorktown Apartments.
Bell, originally from Alabama, had spent his adult years shuffling back and forth between the Charlotte and Columbia, South Carolina areas, holding a series of unremarkable jobs. Eventually settling in Lexington County, South Carolina, the seemingly normal former Marine would go on to commit two shocking murders.
Shari Faye Smith, 17, was abducted outside her home on May 31, 1985. After a series of mocking phone calls to her family, Bell had forced Shari to write a “Last Will and Testament” to her parents before ultimately killing her.
Only two weeks later, Debra May Helmick, 9, had been found murdered following a continued dialogue between Bell and the Smith family—it is widely believed that Shari Smith’s older sister, Dawn, was the initial object of his infatuation, and Debra’s murder was nothing more than boiled-over frustration taken out on yet another young blonde.
Advancements in handwriting forensics ultimately led to Bell’s capture. Following a trial largely characterized by his numerous unhinged outbursts, Bell was eventually sentenced to death. He died via electric chair on October 4, 1996.
Bell’s Possible Involvement in Denise’s Disappearance
Aside from the fact that he was living nearby at the time of her disappearance, authorities have other reasons—albeit, coincidental—to believe he could have been involved.
For one, Denise was a young woman with blonde hair in her early twenties; the same profile as another object of his murderous lust, Dawn Smith. It is known that Bell liked to target specific blondes but would settle on killing another one if the opportunity arose.
There are also shades of similar MO’s involved in Shari’s capture and murder and Denise’s disappearance. Shari’s kidnapping took place in broad daylight, right at the end of her own family’s driveway. The unidentified suspect in Denise’s disappearance met with her outside in the middle of the day, which would seem equally brazen given that she was well-known in that area due to her status as apartment manager.
Without a body or a game-changing new lead, solving this nearly 50-year mystery doesn’t seem very possible. But the close proximity of an infamous predator to the scene of the disappearance, combined with the victim’s profile, may provide us with some clues.
Links
The Disappearance of Denise Porch
Charley Project
Charlotte Observer Article, 2012
Missing Persons Wiki: Denise Porch
Forensic Files Episode “Last Will”
2023.05.30 22:16 Safe_Performance_670 Difficulty with arousal and erections without physical stimulation
A few months ago my girlfriend of 4 years and I were making out. However I noticed I wasn’t getting an erection which has never happened. This alarmed me and I started trying really hard to get one which made it worse. I should note I had been smoking weed all day. I gave up and told her I wasn’t in the mood, she said it was okay but looked visibly upset. The next time I saw her I was very anxious it would happen again and my self esteem was very low. I was anxious and I usually get rock hard from just hugging and cuddling this girl but I was very soft. I normally make the first move so when she went to grab something I jerked off and got hard but didn’t really feel aroused. We started to make out and have sex but it was the worst sex we’d ever had and I lasted like 10 minutes. I could tell she was dissatisfied and this was right before we went long distance for the next 3 months. This entire time she was gone I was very anxious and looked into ways to counter the issue. I stopped smoking weed entirely after 3 years of heavy use, started going to the gym 6 days a week, and quit watching porn for the most part. When I visited her a few weeks ago after 3 months apart I was very nervous. She had been mentioning that I should start wearing condoms and I thought this was a good time to start. I brought a pack and flew down to her house for a week. She picked me up at the airport and when I got in her car I kissed her. I didn’t get hard but tried not to worry about it. We stopped at a store and I kissed her again and this time it was very passionate and I got hard and she looked flustered. That night I was nervous because I was anticipating the moment and didn’t want to mess anything up. We kissed and I got hard and I went to put on the condom. I struggled to get it on though and I started to soften and internally freak out. This was awkard because she was watching and probabaly expected it to be a repeat of the first time. I got it on though and we had sex it was good but wasn’t great. The next night was much better we made out and I put on the condom we had very passionate sex. The next day however she asked me to take a shower spontaneously. I agreed and followed her into the bathroom where we started kissing. It was happening again though I couldn’t get hard or aroused. I felt very anxious and she was upset she pretty much kicked me out of the bathroom and once I got hard outside she didn’t want me to come back in. I flew back home feeling like I let her down. A week later I went to visit her again for prom. I got in her car at the airport kissed her and didn’t get hard again. I was squeezing her leg though and got hard from that. When we got back to her house her parents weren’t home and she went in the bathroom. She came out and climbed on top of me and started kissing me. I couldn’t get it up though. I didn’t want to give up this time so I flipped her on her back and started kissing and grinding against her. I got hard and put on a condom. We had very passionate sex. Now she’s back in my town for the summer. I don’t want to have the issue again. The other night was my birthday and she came over. We started kissing and I got hard right away. We had the best sex we’ve ever had the 4 years we’ve been dating it was very passionate. I’m still struggling to get erect without physical stimulation though I used to get hard from thinking about her, cuddling her, and looking at pictures of her. I’m having these constant intrusive thoughts, “Am I really attracted to her?” “What if I’m gay?” “What if I can’t get an erection?”
submitted by Safe_Performance_670 to sex [link] [comments]
2023.05.30 22:01 DifferentOpinionHere Typing Help: 1w9, 5w6, or 6w5? (Also, instinctual variants)
Hello, I’ve been unsure of my Enneagram type for a long time now, and am coming to the community for typing help. I think that I’ve narrowed my type down to 1w9, 5w6, and 6w5, but I am totally unsure of my instinctual variants.
For and Against 1w9:
I have a weird obsession with moral purity (no drugs, no smoking, no drinking, no extramarital/premarital sex, no gambling, etc.), despite being an atheist. These are my guidelines for living, not necessarily those that religion tells me to have (although I am a former Christian, so it almost certainly influenced my thinking to some degree). I often take hardline moral stances, but this is tempered by a potential 9 wing, where I don’t really try to enforce my morality on others. A potential 9 wing makes me seem very calm and collected, but I have a firm interior. Despite all of this, I wouldn’t really consider myself a perfectionist, in the general sense. I do have obsessions with moral purity and some OCD-ish concerns with my personal items, but I’m no Type A perfectionist (once again, this could be the potential 9 wing). I left Christianity partially because I found it immoral and found that my personal beliefs (antinatalism, teetotalism [Jesus’ first supposed miracle was getting people drunk], etc.) were incompatible with it. I’m an antinatalist for the typical antinatalist reasons, but I’m also childfree partially because I know that my potential children could never live up to my high moral standards and would inevitably be disappointments.
For and Against 5w6:
I do relate to the 5’s concern for cutting themselves off from others to save energy and resources and avoid embarrassment. I’m a very private person and not inclined to share my world with people who aren’t my close friends. I surround myself with home videos (DVDs and Blu Rays) and books, and hoard them in a selfish manner, with, as I mentioned in the 1w9 section, an OCD-ish manner. A strong introvert, I fear interaction with people I don’t know particularly well and generally try to minimize in-real-world interactions with people who I’m not very close friends with. I like to collect as much information as humanly possible before coming to a decision. However, I am quick to moral judgments (which is supposedly more 1ish). That being said, I’m generally more of an observer than a participant. I mean, I wish I could be a participant in life, but I have zero clue how to. Any potential “gifts” I’ve been given are either negated by my timidity or are useless in the arena of life.
For and Against 6w5:
For a long time, I thought I was a 6w5, partially because I thought that I wasn’t good enough to be a 1 or smart enough to be a 5 (yeah, 6s definitely get the short end of the stick in typing descriptions). I have an average/normal level of anxiety, but I am often governed by what people think of me. I generally agree with the United States’ Democratic Party’s policies, but I refuse to vote, to avoid rocking the boat with my fascistic family (I just pretend to not care about politics, for the most part). I am a genuine, certified coward. However, I generally lack the affiliative nature of the 6, preferring to not be a joiner and be more of an individualist. It may be because joining a group may compromise who I actually am. With issues not related to moral judgment, I need a lot of guidance and help. For example, financial stuff completely bewilders me, and I am at the mercy of whoever is helping me.
Alright, let’s move on to instinctual variants
For and Against SP:
I am very concerned with self-preservation, but doesn’t SP-first seem a little – er – immoral and selfish? I mean, SO and SX revolve around making others happy or providing for their needs, while SP is just…me, me, me. I’m highly reserved and hoard what I have, but isn’t this wrong?
For and Against SO:
One of my greatest desires is to make a contribution to the world to make it a better and more bearable place. However, I have no clue on how to realistically do this and am far too easily cowed to actually make a difference.
For and Against SX:
I’ve never been in a relationship with another person in my entire life, but it is one of my strongest desires. Sometimes, I think that such a thing would bring wholeness to my life. However, I’m not a fiery or passionate person.
Okay, that’s all for now. If you have any questions that might help me discover my Enneagram type and/or instinctual variants, feel free to ask.
submitted by DifferentOpinionHere to Enneagram [link] [comments]
For and Against 1w9:
I have a weird obsession with moral purity (no drugs, no smoking, no drinking, no extramarital/premarital sex, no gambling, etc.), despite being an atheist. These are my guidelines for living, not necessarily those that religion tells me to have (although I am a former Christian, so it almost certainly influenced my thinking to some degree). I often take hardline moral stances, but this is tempered by a potential 9 wing, where I don’t really try to enforce my morality on others. A potential 9 wing makes me seem very calm and collected, but I have a firm interior. Despite all of this, I wouldn’t really consider myself a perfectionist, in the general sense. I do have obsessions with moral purity and some OCD-ish concerns with my personal items, but I’m no Type A perfectionist (once again, this could be the potential 9 wing). I left Christianity partially because I found it immoral and found that my personal beliefs (antinatalism, teetotalism [Jesus’ first supposed miracle was getting people drunk], etc.) were incompatible with it. I’m an antinatalist for the typical antinatalist reasons, but I’m also childfree partially because I know that my potential children could never live up to my high moral standards and would inevitably be disappointments.
For and Against 5w6:
I do relate to the 5’s concern for cutting themselves off from others to save energy and resources and avoid embarrassment. I’m a very private person and not inclined to share my world with people who aren’t my close friends. I surround myself with home videos (DVDs and Blu Rays) and books, and hoard them in a selfish manner, with, as I mentioned in the 1w9 section, an OCD-ish manner. A strong introvert, I fear interaction with people I don’t know particularly well and generally try to minimize in-real-world interactions with people who I’m not very close friends with. I like to collect as much information as humanly possible before coming to a decision. However, I am quick to moral judgments (which is supposedly more 1ish). That being said, I’m generally more of an observer than a participant. I mean, I wish I could be a participant in life, but I have zero clue how to. Any potential “gifts” I’ve been given are either negated by my timidity or are useless in the arena of life.
For and Against 6w5:
For a long time, I thought I was a 6w5, partially because I thought that I wasn’t good enough to be a 1 or smart enough to be a 5 (yeah, 6s definitely get the short end of the stick in typing descriptions). I have an average/normal level of anxiety, but I am often governed by what people think of me. I generally agree with the United States’ Democratic Party’s policies, but I refuse to vote, to avoid rocking the boat with my fascistic family (I just pretend to not care about politics, for the most part). I am a genuine, certified coward. However, I generally lack the affiliative nature of the 6, preferring to not be a joiner and be more of an individualist. It may be because joining a group may compromise who I actually am. With issues not related to moral judgment, I need a lot of guidance and help. For example, financial stuff completely bewilders me, and I am at the mercy of whoever is helping me.
Alright, let’s move on to instinctual variants
For and Against SP:
I am very concerned with self-preservation, but doesn’t SP-first seem a little – er – immoral and selfish? I mean, SO and SX revolve around making others happy or providing for their needs, while SP is just…me, me, me. I’m highly reserved and hoard what I have, but isn’t this wrong?
For and Against SO:
One of my greatest desires is to make a contribution to the world to make it a better and more bearable place. However, I have no clue on how to realistically do this and am far too easily cowed to actually make a difference.
For and Against SX:
I’ve never been in a relationship with another person in my entire life, but it is one of my strongest desires. Sometimes, I think that such a thing would bring wholeness to my life. However, I’m not a fiery or passionate person.
Okay, that’s all for now. If you have any questions that might help me discover my Enneagram type and/or instinctual variants, feel free to ask.
2023.05.30 21:58 Anubus_the_Wayfinder Brooklyn-99 has broken my brain...
 | Saw this Remy Martin advert and realized..."Every Inch Matters", title of Serena's sex tape? Ehh? It works, right? submitted by Anubus_the_Wayfinder to brooklynninenine [link] [comments] |
2023.05.30 21:39 xtremexavier15 TSWT 22 (pt 2)
The episode resumed with another shot of the pile of boulder as Chris began to speak. "Welcome back to Total Drama World Tour," he greeted as the shot panned back over to him and Chef. "We're here on beautiful Rapa Nui," the camera zoomed in on Chef as he got ready to push another stone sphere, "where somebody is about to go Rapa splat-splat! Wait for it...," the host said with an eager smile.
\
"It's bad enough we had to climb the statues just to find these breakable eggs," Topher said as the focus returned to him and the others. "Now there's boulders?"
"Those are just there to make the challenge harder for us," Ezekiel explained.
"One of us has to be the lookout and seek for boulders so we can avoid them and keep our eggs intact," Eva said.
"Allow me to be in front of the Izzy train!" Izzy exclaimed. "All aboard!"
\
The scene flashed back to Mal in the tunnel, a slight rumbling sound barely audible. He noticed the sound that was coming closer, and tripped and stumbled into the wall, getting knocked back into the path of the boulder and being crushed into a hole of himself.
"Are my eggs still intact?" Mal said, looking at his own basket only to find the cracked eggs on the ground. "That's just great!"
\
The shot returned to the alliance hiding in a hole as the boulder rolled over them. They poked themselves out once the boulder was gone.
"That was a close one!" Ezekiel panted.
"Tell me about it," Eva remarked.
"So you guys have become a quartet," Mal laughed when he came into view. "How heartwarming."
"Mock us all you want, but we still have our eggs while yours are broken," Topher grinned.
"I'm not going to fret on it. I can find a batch of eggs quickly and effectively," Mal boasted proudly while walking away.
"Have fun coming in last place!" Izzy yelled as she and her alliance got themselves out of the hole.
"We better get out of here if we don't want him to catch up," Ezekiel said. "He's able to use Manitoba Smith's investigation skills to help himself."
\
The scene cut to the beach, the shot focusing on the stone heads of Sky and Noah.
"This place is clear of eggs," Mal said as he climbed up Noah's statue. He found something in Noah's ear, which turned out to be a bunch of books that promptly piled out and knocked him off his perch.
The scene skipped ahead to Mal looking into Owen's mouth and taking out assorted items. "Toast? Sausage? A coconut?" he wondered in an upset tone. "Owen, you are so useless!"
The statue suddenly burped out a blue egg, and Mal managed to catch it. "Good. Now where next?"
The shot cut to Mal taking an egg out of Jo's hair. "Jo was actually cooperative for once!" he said. "I'm still in the game!"
Mal got off the statue just as a piercing cry and a large winged shadow passing overhead caught the man's attention.
"That is a giant condor," Mal said with a rising panic as the perspective turned upwards to show a large condor soaring overhead looking down at him. "That explains the size of these eggs!"
He looked back at the condor, which screeched and dived towards him. Mal took off towards the cave, the condor screeching and swooping right behind him.
\
The scene flashed back to the tunnels, where the four were steadily making their climb. "So even though you were helping Mal, you don't have any real tips on how to stop him?" Eva asked Topher.
"All we need is luck, and with Mal being nowhere to be seen right now, it's already granted upon us," Topher said.
"Luck never gets me anywhere," Ezekiel lamented. "I have to try my butt off if I want to achieve things in life, like graduating elementary and middle school."
"Aren't you homeschooled?" Izzy asked. "It should be easier for you."
"We're educated differently, but I struggle as much as you guys do, so don't call homeschooling easy," Ezekiel said.
"Geez. I was just trying to be nice," Izzy spoke out.
The panicked howl of Mal suddenly came from behind them, surprising the quartet.
"And he caught up with us sooner than I thought," Eva thought aloud as she and her team turned to look back down the tunnel.
Mal was shown running towards them, holding his three eggs while the giant condor flew and screeched right behind him.
"The condor is why!" Topher yelled in panic, the group turning to run with Mal.
\
Back outside the higher cave exit, Chris was measuring parts of a giant stone Chef head as the man himself prepared to push it.
"Dude," Chris said as he moved his tape measure around, "we gotta get back to boulders."
A quintet of screaming voices caught the attention of both men, the camera zooming out just as Mal ran out of the cave, followed by Eva, Ezekiel, Topher, and Izzy. They stopped together just past Chef, but Izzy tripped on a rock, allowing for her eggs to slip out from her grasp and break on the floor.
"My eggs are cracked, and all the king's horses and men won't be able to put them together again!" Izzy whined.
"Man, you guys are really competing!" Chris commented with a happy smile.
He was answered by several frantic and disjointed pleas which, overall, asked that the cave be closed off. Chef promptly complied, pushing the statue of his head over to block the cave entrance.
Moments later the condor crashed into it with a painful crunch, its feet and a few feathers jutting out between a few gaps.
"Oh man, so close!" Chris lamented as he looked back at the blocked cave. "Way to ruin the fun! We may as well move on to the next challenge," he said, turning back to the contestants and bending down to pick something up. "Since Mal was the first one out," he said before tossing the dark alter an umpire's mask.
"I'm playing baseball?" Mal asked with uncertainty.
"Thankfully no," Chris replied. "You must climb this rock pillar all the way up to...," he explained, the camera showing the cast looking behind them before panning up a tall, thin, and craggy pillar with a large bird's nest at the very top.
"A giant condor nest?" Eva said as the shot zoomed in on the nest.
"You already know they can get pret-ty crabby," Chris explained. "But did you know female condors are even bigger than the dude birds?"
The five contestants were shown looking at him with blank shock before a loud screech turned their attention upwards, where a large condor silhouette was looking down at them. "She's a big one!" Ezekiel commented in horror.
"Yup, twelve-foot wingspan," Chris said matter-of-factly.
"That's almost as wide as two of me," Mal said.
Confessional: Izzy
"One Mal is already bad enough," Izzy said to the camera. "With two, they could usurp Darth Vader and Ra's al Ghul combined!"
Confessional Ends
"See, she's kinda peeved 'cause you guys stole her eggs," Chris told the cast.
"We didn't steal the eggs!" Topher frantically tried to tell the bird. "He's the one that did!" He turned apologetic. "Sorry Chris!"
"So now you have to try to shimmy up to the nest, and give 'em back," Chris continued, "in the order in which you arrived here, last place to first. Of course, Mama's got a whole lot more eggs up there," the shot cut to the mother condor perched angrily on the edge of her nest, "so, she's bound to be a tad protective."
The mother condor let loose a screech that shook the camera.
"So that's the reward," Ezekiel said as Mal put his umpire's mask on. "The giant condor can peck the eyeballs of their predators."
"And I'm not going to be its prey!" Mal said cruelly.
"Since my eggs are broken, does this mean I'm out of the challenge?" Izzy raised her hand.
"'Fraid so. Deposit all three eggs and you win," Chris explained. "And if nobody makes it, we'll try it again! It's gonna be that much fun."
Topher grabbed his eggs out of Izzy's basket and stuffed them down his pants. "Win for us since I can't," Izzy ordered the boy moving forward.
"Oh," Chris interrupted, causing the Chris fan to flinch, "and one more thing."
"Come on," Topher muttered. "What else could you-"
He was answered by the familiar ding and icon that signaled a musical number. "It's for your own protection," Chris told them. "Keeps the birds calm. I'm lying," he said with a mischievous smirk, "or I'm not! You choose!"
///\
[A Latin melody began to play, and the mother condor screeched again from atop its nest.]
"I'm smooth, I'm gelled, I'm young, I'm handsome!"
[Topher opened, the camera flashing in sequence from a close-up of his tapping feet, to his swaying hips, to his waggling butt, and lastly to a side view of his eyes and smile.]
"I'm coming to bring back your small ones... So calm down you, condor."
[The condor was shown bobbing and bouncing in enjoyment of the music as Topher steadily climbed up the rock spire. He reached the top of the nest, and the condor screeched at him.]
"I will win and you'll see. So try, attack me! But, I am committed! I don't mind that pecking, so, keep being ticked!"
[Topher paused for a few beats in confidence, and the condor pecked him to no avail. As the mother bird continued its fruitless assault, Topher started placing the red eggs he was carrying into the nest: first one, then another.]
"Quiet, condor. Let me in the Final Four!"
[Topher told it as he held out the third egg he'd brought. He was answered by a wing sweep that knocked him clear off the pillar.
"No!" he groaned on his back on the ground, just before the third egg splattered on his face.
"Next!" Chris said, popping into view on the right.]
"Iiiii, oh Ii~ii~ii do not like condors, do not like condors!"
[Ezekiel sang next, looking upwards while the basket containing his eggs hung off his shoulder as he climbed.]
"Whyyyy, oh whyy~yy~yy, am I doing this. I ponder!"
[He added as he grabbed the next handhold, the shot panning up to the nest to show the condor enjoying the song again.]
"Trust meeee, oh trust me~ee. I don't want to soar, so let me in the Final Four!"
[Ezekiel sang as he finally managed to pull himself up to the nest level. He quickly put the first two eggs into the nest under the stern gaze of their mother, but the moment he ended his line the condor headbutted him in the gut and caused him to fall from the pillar.
The shot immediately cut down to show Ezekiel groaning on the ground. "My eggs!" he shouted until the basket with all three eggs landed on his chest.
"Good news!" Chris told him as the camera panned to the left just a little bit to show him standing over him. "You can have another chance later, but first..." He looked back to the left, and the song continued over a shot of Eva's determined face.]
"I'm a winner, so don't be giving me flak!"
[Eva called up forcefully towards the nest, climbing steadily with her three green eggs inside her bjorn.]
"'Cause my fist packs a big punch, and you don't want to see that!"
[She reached the top, and began to place eggs in the nest just as the two before her had. The mother condor, though still bobbing to the beat, seemed to be displeased nonetheless.]
"Listen, condor. Let me into the Final Four!"
[She was answered by the condor growling at her in anger. "So… I could've said that better," she gulped.
The camera stuck to Mal as Eva fell past her, and Chris called out "Mal?" in an expectant and impish tone.]
"Iiiii, how Ii~ii~ii, how I really hate these birds, and I am not mincing these words!"
[Mal sang, not missing a beat even at the thud of Eva's landing.]
"Theeeese inferior punks, are causing me pain. And you're the one I have to blame. For the last time...
[He reached the nest and immediately squinted at the condor, all the while continuing to sing. He placed two blue-colored eggs in the nest before pausing to take a deep breath, and...]
Stay in your lane!"
[Mal finished with a smile. The shot cut back to the condor as it screeched in retaliation, then nuzzled the eggs as she placed the last one next to them.]
"Yes! Thanks to this condor, now I'm in the Final Fourrrrr!"
[Mal finished with a triumphant pose, the music ending with a rapid strum as the camera cut to the four contestants furiously looking at their targeted enemy.]
///
"Mal takes the win!" Chris announced as the shot cut back to the ground.
"Can someone get me down from here?" Mal's voice came from the nest.
Confessional: Mal
"With immunity claimed for today, now it's time to decide who's getting the boot. Ezekiel and Topher are easy to beat in the finale, so they're off my list for sure," Mal mentioned.
"I could vote for Izzy, but compared to Eva, she's lacking some bit of muscle. So with that, Eva's the one that's going to go today," he snickered. "She's a powerhouse, and it'll leave Izzy vulnerable."
Confessional Ends
The plane was shown flying high over the moai statues as Chris announced "And, it's time to vote!"
The scene immediately flashed to a close-up of the host in the elimination chamber as he read through the five stamped passports. He smiled, and the shot zoomed out to show the five contestants waiting expectantly in the stands.
"The first person to be nominated for the Drop of Shame is...Eva!" Chris announced as the female bully was shown shrugging. "Next vote, Topher...," the camera cut to the boy gasping.
"Next vote, Ezekiel...," Chris continued, the shot cutting to show Ezekiel's shocked face. "And the fourth and final vote says this week's loser is...Eva!"
Eva and Izzy's eyes widened as they were both shocked, but Mal broke the silence by laughing. "Tough break! That's just how the bread rolls!"
Izzy was furious with Mal, but Eva surprised everyone by raising her fist and swinging it in Mal's face, sending him unconscious before he plummeted.
Confessional: Ezekiel
"I thought about voting off Topher, but I realized it wouldn't make any sense given that he and Mal would be voting for Eva," Ezekiel said. "I voted for her as well because she's too strong."
Confessional Ends
"In case anyone was wondering, I'm not going to rage out like I did before," Eva assured everyone. "I just took my anger out on Mal instead."
"No no, we get it. Good job," Topher smirked with respect.
"I had to vote for you," Ezekiel said. "You are too powerful."
"I get it," Eva responded and turned to Izzy. "Izzy, you're the last member of Team E-Scope standing. Do not disappoint us!"
"It won't be as fun without you, but I'll keep carrying on!" Izzy promised.
Eva grabbed her parachute pack and made her way to the exit. "Unlike the rest, I can hop out of this plane normally." And with that, she hopped through the exit.
"Mal!" Chris focused on the alter, who now had a swollen eye. "Because you won, your prize awaits you in first class. And, as usual, you can bring the loser of your choice."
Mal rubbed his swelled up eye in annoyance. "Izzy's been up there enough and Topher's stayed there before, so I'll have to choose Ezekiel."
"I have to spend first class with you!?" Ezekiel fumed. "That's unbelievable!"
"You better believe and accept it, Zekey!" Mal held up his fist and spoke slowly. "My eye needs treatment, and I don't want to mess up my fist by punching you!"
This got Ezekiel to gulp. "Thank you for inviting me!"
\
The scene cut away to the cockpit, Chris trying to reach for the control again but getting his hand slapped away by Chef. The host grunted, the series's capstone theme beginning as he turned his attention to the camera. "Come back next time, for more spills, chills, and planet-endangering thrills right here, on Total! Drama! World Tour!"
The shot zoomed out as usual, and a resounding slap was heard.
(Roll the Credits)
\
(Bonus Clip)
"I was disappointed with my performance back on the island," Eva explained as she was descending down on her parachute. "I was eliminated early for my temper, and when I rejoined, I got re-eliminated for my temper still."
"Fortunately, I managed to make it all the way to fifth place. I didn't win, but I can feel like a winner with Izzy representing herself, me, and Noah as Team E-Scope," Eva followed up. "That's all I have to say, so in the most polite way I can say it, leave me be!"
She soon landed on the condor's nest, much to her disappointment. "What happened to Mama Condor? Shouldn't she be here?" Her answer came when the condor swooped in and grabbed Eva by her shoulders, dragging her away from the camera's view.
18th: Shawn
17th: Amy
16th: Lindsay
15th: Rodney
14th: Jo
Eliminated: Owen
13th: Duncan
12th: Sky
11th: Heather
10th: Cody
9th: Ella
8th: Noah
7th: Sadie
6th: Owen
5th: Eva
submitted by xtremexavier15 to u/xtremexavier15 [link] [comments]
\
"It's bad enough we had to climb the statues just to find these breakable eggs," Topher said as the focus returned to him and the others. "Now there's boulders?"
"Those are just there to make the challenge harder for us," Ezekiel explained.
"One of us has to be the lookout and seek for boulders so we can avoid them and keep our eggs intact," Eva said.
"Allow me to be in front of the Izzy train!" Izzy exclaimed. "All aboard!"
\
The scene flashed back to Mal in the tunnel, a slight rumbling sound barely audible. He noticed the sound that was coming closer, and tripped and stumbled into the wall, getting knocked back into the path of the boulder and being crushed into a hole of himself.
"Are my eggs still intact?" Mal said, looking at his own basket only to find the cracked eggs on the ground. "That's just great!"
\
The shot returned to the alliance hiding in a hole as the boulder rolled over them. They poked themselves out once the boulder was gone.
"That was a close one!" Ezekiel panted.
"Tell me about it," Eva remarked.
"So you guys have become a quartet," Mal laughed when he came into view. "How heartwarming."
"Mock us all you want, but we still have our eggs while yours are broken," Topher grinned.
"I'm not going to fret on it. I can find a batch of eggs quickly and effectively," Mal boasted proudly while walking away.
"Have fun coming in last place!" Izzy yelled as she and her alliance got themselves out of the hole.
"We better get out of here if we don't want him to catch up," Ezekiel said. "He's able to use Manitoba Smith's investigation skills to help himself."
\
The scene cut to the beach, the shot focusing on the stone heads of Sky and Noah.
"This place is clear of eggs," Mal said as he climbed up Noah's statue. He found something in Noah's ear, which turned out to be a bunch of books that promptly piled out and knocked him off his perch.
The scene skipped ahead to Mal looking into Owen's mouth and taking out assorted items. "Toast? Sausage? A coconut?" he wondered in an upset tone. "Owen, you are so useless!"
The statue suddenly burped out a blue egg, and Mal managed to catch it. "Good. Now where next?"
The shot cut to Mal taking an egg out of Jo's hair. "Jo was actually cooperative for once!" he said. "I'm still in the game!"
Mal got off the statue just as a piercing cry and a large winged shadow passing overhead caught the man's attention.
"That is a giant condor," Mal said with a rising panic as the perspective turned upwards to show a large condor soaring overhead looking down at him. "That explains the size of these eggs!"
He looked back at the condor, which screeched and dived towards him. Mal took off towards the cave, the condor screeching and swooping right behind him.
\
The scene flashed back to the tunnels, where the four were steadily making their climb. "So even though you were helping Mal, you don't have any real tips on how to stop him?" Eva asked Topher.
"All we need is luck, and with Mal being nowhere to be seen right now, it's already granted upon us," Topher said.
"Luck never gets me anywhere," Ezekiel lamented. "I have to try my butt off if I want to achieve things in life, like graduating elementary and middle school."
"Aren't you homeschooled?" Izzy asked. "It should be easier for you."
"We're educated differently, but I struggle as much as you guys do, so don't call homeschooling easy," Ezekiel said.
"Geez. I was just trying to be nice," Izzy spoke out.
The panicked howl of Mal suddenly came from behind them, surprising the quartet.
"And he caught up with us sooner than I thought," Eva thought aloud as she and her team turned to look back down the tunnel.
Mal was shown running towards them, holding his three eggs while the giant condor flew and screeched right behind him.
"The condor is why!" Topher yelled in panic, the group turning to run with Mal.
\
Back outside the higher cave exit, Chris was measuring parts of a giant stone Chef head as the man himself prepared to push it.
"Dude," Chris said as he moved his tape measure around, "we gotta get back to boulders."
A quintet of screaming voices caught the attention of both men, the camera zooming out just as Mal ran out of the cave, followed by Eva, Ezekiel, Topher, and Izzy. They stopped together just past Chef, but Izzy tripped on a rock, allowing for her eggs to slip out from her grasp and break on the floor.
"My eggs are cracked, and all the king's horses and men won't be able to put them together again!" Izzy whined.
"Man, you guys are really competing!" Chris commented with a happy smile.
He was answered by several frantic and disjointed pleas which, overall, asked that the cave be closed off. Chef promptly complied, pushing the statue of his head over to block the cave entrance.
Moments later the condor crashed into it with a painful crunch, its feet and a few feathers jutting out between a few gaps.
"Oh man, so close!" Chris lamented as he looked back at the blocked cave. "Way to ruin the fun! We may as well move on to the next challenge," he said, turning back to the contestants and bending down to pick something up. "Since Mal was the first one out," he said before tossing the dark alter an umpire's mask.
"I'm playing baseball?" Mal asked with uncertainty.
"Thankfully no," Chris replied. "You must climb this rock pillar all the way up to...," he explained, the camera showing the cast looking behind them before panning up a tall, thin, and craggy pillar with a large bird's nest at the very top.
"A giant condor nest?" Eva said as the shot zoomed in on the nest.
"You already know they can get pret-ty crabby," Chris explained. "But did you know female condors are even bigger than the dude birds?"
The five contestants were shown looking at him with blank shock before a loud screech turned their attention upwards, where a large condor silhouette was looking down at them. "She's a big one!" Ezekiel commented in horror.
"Yup, twelve-foot wingspan," Chris said matter-of-factly.
"That's almost as wide as two of me," Mal said.
Confessional: Izzy
"One Mal is already bad enough," Izzy said to the camera. "With two, they could usurp Darth Vader and Ra's al Ghul combined!"
Confessional Ends
"See, she's kinda peeved 'cause you guys stole her eggs," Chris told the cast.
"We didn't steal the eggs!" Topher frantically tried to tell the bird. "He's the one that did!" He turned apologetic. "Sorry Chris!"
"So now you have to try to shimmy up to the nest, and give 'em back," Chris continued, "in the order in which you arrived here, last place to first. Of course, Mama's got a whole lot more eggs up there," the shot cut to the mother condor perched angrily on the edge of her nest, "so, she's bound to be a tad protective."
The mother condor let loose a screech that shook the camera.
"So that's the reward," Ezekiel said as Mal put his umpire's mask on. "The giant condor can peck the eyeballs of their predators."
"And I'm not going to be its prey!" Mal said cruelly.
"Since my eggs are broken, does this mean I'm out of the challenge?" Izzy raised her hand.
"'Fraid so. Deposit all three eggs and you win," Chris explained. "And if nobody makes it, we'll try it again! It's gonna be that much fun."
Topher grabbed his eggs out of Izzy's basket and stuffed them down his pants. "Win for us since I can't," Izzy ordered the boy moving forward.
"Oh," Chris interrupted, causing the Chris fan to flinch, "and one more thing."
"Come on," Topher muttered. "What else could you-"
He was answered by the familiar ding and icon that signaled a musical number. "It's for your own protection," Chris told them. "Keeps the birds calm. I'm lying," he said with a mischievous smirk, "or I'm not! You choose!"
///\
[A Latin melody began to play, and the mother condor screeched again from atop its nest.]
"I'm smooth, I'm gelled, I'm young, I'm handsome!"
[Topher opened, the camera flashing in sequence from a close-up of his tapping feet, to his swaying hips, to his waggling butt, and lastly to a side view of his eyes and smile.]
"I'm coming to bring back your small ones... So calm down you, condor."
[The condor was shown bobbing and bouncing in enjoyment of the music as Topher steadily climbed up the rock spire. He reached the top of the nest, and the condor screeched at him.]
"I will win and you'll see. So try, attack me! But, I am committed! I don't mind that pecking, so, keep being ticked!"
[Topher paused for a few beats in confidence, and the condor pecked him to no avail. As the mother bird continued its fruitless assault, Topher started placing the red eggs he was carrying into the nest: first one, then another.]
"Quiet, condor. Let me in the Final Four!"
[Topher told it as he held out the third egg he'd brought. He was answered by a wing sweep that knocked him clear off the pillar.
"No!" he groaned on his back on the ground, just before the third egg splattered on his face.
"Next!" Chris said, popping into view on the right.]
"Iiiii, oh Ii~ii~ii do not like condors, do not like condors!"
[Ezekiel sang next, looking upwards while the basket containing his eggs hung off his shoulder as he climbed.]
"Whyyyy, oh whyy~yy~yy, am I doing this. I ponder!"
[He added as he grabbed the next handhold, the shot panning up to the nest to show the condor enjoying the song again.]
"Trust meeee, oh trust me~ee. I don't want to soar, so let me in the Final Four!"
[Ezekiel sang as he finally managed to pull himself up to the nest level. He quickly put the first two eggs into the nest under the stern gaze of their mother, but the moment he ended his line the condor headbutted him in the gut and caused him to fall from the pillar.
The shot immediately cut down to show Ezekiel groaning on the ground. "My eggs!" he shouted until the basket with all three eggs landed on his chest.
"Good news!" Chris told him as the camera panned to the left just a little bit to show him standing over him. "You can have another chance later, but first..." He looked back to the left, and the song continued over a shot of Eva's determined face.]
"I'm a winner, so don't be giving me flak!"
[Eva called up forcefully towards the nest, climbing steadily with her three green eggs inside her bjorn.]
"'Cause my fist packs a big punch, and you don't want to see that!"
[She reached the top, and began to place eggs in the nest just as the two before her had. The mother condor, though still bobbing to the beat, seemed to be displeased nonetheless.]
"Listen, condor. Let me into the Final Four!"
[She was answered by the condor growling at her in anger. "So… I could've said that better," she gulped.
The camera stuck to Mal as Eva fell past her, and Chris called out "Mal?" in an expectant and impish tone.]
"Iiiii, how Ii~ii~ii, how I really hate these birds, and I am not mincing these words!"
[Mal sang, not missing a beat even at the thud of Eva's landing.]
"Theeeese inferior punks, are causing me pain. And you're the one I have to blame. For the last time...
[He reached the nest and immediately squinted at the condor, all the while continuing to sing. He placed two blue-colored eggs in the nest before pausing to take a deep breath, and...]
Stay in your lane!"
[Mal finished with a smile. The shot cut back to the condor as it screeched in retaliation, then nuzzled the eggs as she placed the last one next to them.]
"Yes! Thanks to this condor, now I'm in the Final Fourrrrr!"
[Mal finished with a triumphant pose, the music ending with a rapid strum as the camera cut to the four contestants furiously looking at their targeted enemy.]
///
"Mal takes the win!" Chris announced as the shot cut back to the ground.
"Can someone get me down from here?" Mal's voice came from the nest.
Confessional: Mal
"With immunity claimed for today, now it's time to decide who's getting the boot. Ezekiel and Topher are easy to beat in the finale, so they're off my list for sure," Mal mentioned.
"I could vote for Izzy, but compared to Eva, she's lacking some bit of muscle. So with that, Eva's the one that's going to go today," he snickered. "She's a powerhouse, and it'll leave Izzy vulnerable."
Confessional Ends
The plane was shown flying high over the moai statues as Chris announced "And, it's time to vote!"
The scene immediately flashed to a close-up of the host in the elimination chamber as he read through the five stamped passports. He smiled, and the shot zoomed out to show the five contestants waiting expectantly in the stands.
"The first person to be nominated for the Drop of Shame is...Eva!" Chris announced as the female bully was shown shrugging. "Next vote, Topher...," the camera cut to the boy gasping.
"Next vote, Ezekiel...," Chris continued, the shot cutting to show Ezekiel's shocked face. "And the fourth and final vote says this week's loser is...Eva!"
Eva and Izzy's eyes widened as they were both shocked, but Mal broke the silence by laughing. "Tough break! That's just how the bread rolls!"
Izzy was furious with Mal, but Eva surprised everyone by raising her fist and swinging it in Mal's face, sending him unconscious before he plummeted.
Confessional: Ezekiel
"I thought about voting off Topher, but I realized it wouldn't make any sense given that he and Mal would be voting for Eva," Ezekiel said. "I voted for her as well because she's too strong."
Confessional Ends
"In case anyone was wondering, I'm not going to rage out like I did before," Eva assured everyone. "I just took my anger out on Mal instead."
"No no, we get it. Good job," Topher smirked with respect.
"I had to vote for you," Ezekiel said. "You are too powerful."
"I get it," Eva responded and turned to Izzy. "Izzy, you're the last member of Team E-Scope standing. Do not disappoint us!"
"It won't be as fun without you, but I'll keep carrying on!" Izzy promised.
Eva grabbed her parachute pack and made her way to the exit. "Unlike the rest, I can hop out of this plane normally." And with that, she hopped through the exit.
"Mal!" Chris focused on the alter, who now had a swollen eye. "Because you won, your prize awaits you in first class. And, as usual, you can bring the loser of your choice."
Mal rubbed his swelled up eye in annoyance. "Izzy's been up there enough and Topher's stayed there before, so I'll have to choose Ezekiel."
"I have to spend first class with you!?" Ezekiel fumed. "That's unbelievable!"
"You better believe and accept it, Zekey!" Mal held up his fist and spoke slowly. "My eye needs treatment, and I don't want to mess up my fist by punching you!"
This got Ezekiel to gulp. "Thank you for inviting me!"
\
The scene cut away to the cockpit, Chris trying to reach for the control again but getting his hand slapped away by Chef. The host grunted, the series's capstone theme beginning as he turned his attention to the camera. "Come back next time, for more spills, chills, and planet-endangering thrills right here, on Total! Drama! World Tour!"
The shot zoomed out as usual, and a resounding slap was heard.
(Roll the Credits)
\
(Bonus Clip)
"I was disappointed with my performance back on the island," Eva explained as she was descending down on her parachute. "I was eliminated early for my temper, and when I rejoined, I got re-eliminated for my temper still."
"Fortunately, I managed to make it all the way to fifth place. I didn't win, but I can feel like a winner with Izzy representing herself, me, and Noah as Team E-Scope," Eva followed up. "That's all I have to say, so in the most polite way I can say it, leave me be!"
She soon landed on the condor's nest, much to her disappointment. "What happened to Mama Condor? Shouldn't she be here?" Her answer came when the condor swooped in and grabbed Eva by her shoulders, dragging her away from the camera's view.
18th: Shawn
17th: Amy
16th: Lindsay
15th: Rodney
14th: Jo
Eliminated: Owen
13th: Duncan
12th: Sky
11th: Heather
10th: Cody
9th: Ella
8th: Noah
7th: Sadie
6th: Owen
5th: Eva
2023.05.30 21:34 EntertainmentDailyED Adrien Ad Laurent And Lea Mary's Alleged Sex Tape Leaks
 | submitted by EntertainmentDailyED to u/EntertainmentDailyED [link] [comments] |
2023.05.30 20:53 Sea-Sympathy5350 I Got My Dad Arrested
My name is Alice, and my best friend for the past 9 years is Carol, we’ve have been friends since middle school when we were both 10, she was by all rites my sister, I was an only child, and she filled the void of not having any brothers or sisters of my own. We would spend most days together at my house, she was one of five siblings, her parents managed, but struggled to keep up with all the bills, so her spending nights at my house were frequent, I’m talking about 20 to 30 times a year. My parents treated her like a daughter, my mom would even spend time in private talks with her and without me, like mother, daughter talks. Of course, me and my mom had the same type of relationship, but Carol’s mom was too busy to have these kinds of talks with her, so my mom was the mother figure to her. Carol was part of our family, and we all respected each other. When she would spend those nights with me, my dad would always drive her home the next day. When my dad would take her home, he always returned 30 minutes later, but she only lived 5 minutes away, He would always walk in with a half-drunk Slurpee when he returned. I never really thought much about it then, life went on as normal. When she would spend those nights at my house for sleepovers, my mom would look in on us maybe once a night if at all, but my dad would check in 3 to 4 times and always say something or try to join in our conversations.
Fast forward 8 years, we just graduated high school, at the end of summer I was heading off to college in another state, she was going to remain in our little town and go to the state university about 20 miles away. We live in a small town 10 miles from a large city, but our town has only about 10,000 people, just enough for 2 elementaries and 1 high school so everyone knows everyone. Carol some how always had money, but she didn’t have a job, I had money from a part-time job and my parents both had great jobs, my mom was a RN for a large hospital in the city and my dad was a partner of a law firm he started right out of college and had build himself up as the top law firm in the city. He did a lot of charitable work and was on several committees helping small businesses. I could ask for anything, but they gave me just what I needed, like a car and paying for my college, the rest I tried to earn for myself. One day Carol drives up in a used car and I asked where it came from, she replied that her uncle gave it to her as a gift for her graduation. I had never heard about this uncle, she said that he was around, but didn’t get along with the rest of her family so she never spoke of him. Carol was a beautiful girl with long black hair, she hadn’t cut it since before we met, it hung down her back all the way to her butt, she always kept it in a ponytail, you could always tell it was her even from the back because it was unique. I am a pretty good-looking girl, I have no problem finding dates or boyfriends, Carol on the other hand, never once had a boyfriend, not because they didn’t ask, she would always turn them down, saying she wasn’t ready to get tied down to any guy.
One day my mother took me out to lunch and told me that she suspected my dad is having an affair, she said she looked over the bank statements, he was taking money from their accounts weekly, between 500 to 800 dollars each Friday and never had anything to show from it. She said that she may hire a PI to help her get to the bottom of it. I said let me investigate it first, I was going to college for journalism, this would be great practice for me, my dream job was to become an investigative reporter. She said okay, I have the summer, then when I left for college, if I hadn’t found anything she would hire a PI and I agreed. We finished our lunch and told her not to say anything to dad, because it would be harder to catch him if he thought she may know anything, she agreed, this would be our secret.
I told Carol about the situation, she said that she couldn’t believe my dad would ever cheat on his family, she said that both my mom and I were crazy. But said she would help me, she said that she wanted to prove he was doing nothing wrong, but she would keep an open mind. That Saturday I followed my dad as he left the house and he ended up at the library, I walked in and I saw him in the law section reading and he was alone, I walked out and sat in my car for 4 and a half hours. He drove to a restaurant, I could see him from the parking lot as he sat alone, he had a slice of pie and a soda. He left there and just took a walk to the local park, I stayed out of sight, he just sat on a park bench and pulled his phone out, texting someone for the next 30 minutes. He got up and walked back to his car and drove home. I kept driving to kill 30 minutes before returning home, I had found nothing and was disappointed with myself, but happy for my mom. I told Carol what I seen but all she said was I told you your dad’s not a cheater. I looked at her and said this was only day one and who was he texting for 30 minutes. She said maybe another lawyer. I knew she was right, I was grasping at straws, but something didn’t feel right, I was going to continue the investigation.
The following Saturday I had to work, Carol said she would follow him and take notes as to what he was doing and report back to me later that night. I thanked her, I told her she didn’t need to get involved, but she said she felt like she owed it to our family, because of all the years being treated like a daughter. That night Carol and I met up at a coffee shop and she said she followed him to a mall and he went into a bunch of stores but never bought anything, she said he was alone the entire trip other than when he went to the food court and sat with another couple, but it appeared he sat there because no other tables were open, he just sat and ate without saying anything to the couple. I thanked her and we just had a normal evening and went to see a movie. The next Saturday came up and I followed him again and he did exactly the same as I watched him two weeks ago right down to the pie and texting in the park. Carol was just too easily willing to give up, but I wasn’t done yet. She said I was wasting my time that could be better spent studying for college to get a head start. I found this very strange, she never cared about my studies while we were in school why now.
I told her I had to work on the following Saturday, she said she would watch him again. I started to get a gut feeling something was off. I took that day off and I followed them both to the mall. I put on a hoodie that I borrowed by a guy friend, I kept the hood on as I watch and videoed them from my phone as my dad and Carol walked the mall hand in hand, stopping at stores as he bought her clothes, shoes, and they even stopped into a jewelry store and looked at rings together, I had it all on tape. When they left, I continued to follow as they took my dad’s car to a motel, and I saw him get the key from the office and signal her to join him. They both walked into the room. As I was waiting, I was livid, how could my best friend do this to our family. 3 hours later they emerge from the room, he returns the key, then they drive back to the mall, and they say their goodbyes with a long kiss. He drove home and Carol called me as she was still sitting in the mall parking lot to tell me, she watched him all day, but he just walked the mall like her previous investigation, but I knew the truth. I didn’t say anything and thanked her for all her time.
I needed to find out when it started and I just knew it was on her phone, so I went to her house and was immediately told she was in her room. I walked in to see her reading a book, I said I just met these two amazing guys, they wanted to meet up at a new under 21 dance club. She was reluctant to go, but I pleaded with her, she said she had to wash her hair and get ready. This is what I was hoping for, as soon as I heard the shower, I opened her phone messenger and started typing in my dad’s phone number, the name Michael showed up, my dad’s name is Tony. I open the texts and there are thousands of them going back to when she was just 15 years old, the first text was her thanking him for her new phone. I forwarded the entire chat to my home PC and it took 20 minutes. There were so many, I closed her phone just in time for her to re-enter the room. We went to the dance club, I said I didn’t see them, they never existed so of course I didn’t see them, so we left after about an hour. Went to get a bite to eat and drove her home.
That night I spent it going through all of the text starting from the first one and documenting them all. There were talks about how much she enjoyed sharing a Slurpee with him before he dropped her off from our sleepovers. And the car that he bought her, not the uncle as she told me, my freaking dad bought her a car. I even had proof when they had sex for the first time, when she was 16. It also was a bunch of thank yous, for paying for her car insurance and the money my dad had given her weekly, that’s why she always had money. I put this on a thumb drive along with the edited video I had taken during the day. I made 6 copies of the thumb drives, I placed them into envelopes and on the outside it was typed LAWYER IS A CHILD MOLESTER. Inside I had typed a cover sheet stating that a prominent lawyer in the city, was a child molester and the proof was in the thumb drive included.
I had one bit of revenge for my best friend, I asked her out for dinner at the restaurant I worked at, she agreed, I set the table up where her back was facing the kitchen, I went to get our dinner or she thought, when I returned I was so quiet, I walked up as she was writing a text to my dad. I took her hair as I had done many times before, she slammed her phone down on the table face down. And I said how nice it looked today, pulled out the freshly sharpened knife and a final how nice it looked, I lopped it off as she sat there, I walked next to our table as she was grabbing the back of her head, I dropped the ponytail on the ground as I stared into her eyes. She immediately tried to pick up her hair as if she could glue it back on or something, I said this is what you get for having an affair with my dad.
I had sent the thumb drives to the city mayor, the DA’s office, The police department, The local news station one to her parents and one I gave to my mother. When Carol got home the reporters were already camped out on her front lawn. When I returned home, we had news crews and cameras staking out our house also, along with 3 police cars, I watched my dad being taken out of the house wearing handcuffs. He was arrested and will lose everything. I was consoling my mom, when we got a call from CNN looking for a statement, I declined, but was told this was going to get aired tonight, so this was our chance to make a statement, but we still declined. I turned on the TV and my dad was everywhere, every station local news and network news stations. He was on the front page of our local newspaper and the city newspaper. His story was even in the New York post.
Mom and I took a long vacation and disappeared for the next month and let things calm down. When we returned my dad had moved all his clothes out of the house, now he lives in a rundown apartment trying to find a lawyer that will work for him. Carol was kicked out of her family’s home due to the disgrace she brought onto her family, Carol left our town due to shame. Nobody that I know knows where she went or what happened to her, I guess the police must know because she will have to testify against my father at some point. We are still in the thick of things, but I have put college off for the near future to help my mom as this works through the courts and as she files for divorce. We are going to family counseling and trying to piece our lives back together. My dad faces so many charges starting with child molestation because of the text when the first sexual encounter was, he is also facing charges for manipulation of a minor for sexual purposes, and other charges stemming from his affair. He is looking at a possible 10 years of incarceration. I have no feeling for either of them, they manipulated me and my mom for years, they can both rot in hell for all they did to us.
submitted by Sea-Sympathy5350 to FictionWriting [link] [comments]
Fast forward 8 years, we just graduated high school, at the end of summer I was heading off to college in another state, she was going to remain in our little town and go to the state university about 20 miles away. We live in a small town 10 miles from a large city, but our town has only about 10,000 people, just enough for 2 elementaries and 1 high school so everyone knows everyone. Carol some how always had money, but she didn’t have a job, I had money from a part-time job and my parents both had great jobs, my mom was a RN for a large hospital in the city and my dad was a partner of a law firm he started right out of college and had build himself up as the top law firm in the city. He did a lot of charitable work and was on several committees helping small businesses. I could ask for anything, but they gave me just what I needed, like a car and paying for my college, the rest I tried to earn for myself. One day Carol drives up in a used car and I asked where it came from, she replied that her uncle gave it to her as a gift for her graduation. I had never heard about this uncle, she said that he was around, but didn’t get along with the rest of her family so she never spoke of him. Carol was a beautiful girl with long black hair, she hadn’t cut it since before we met, it hung down her back all the way to her butt, she always kept it in a ponytail, you could always tell it was her even from the back because it was unique. I am a pretty good-looking girl, I have no problem finding dates or boyfriends, Carol on the other hand, never once had a boyfriend, not because they didn’t ask, she would always turn them down, saying she wasn’t ready to get tied down to any guy.
One day my mother took me out to lunch and told me that she suspected my dad is having an affair, she said she looked over the bank statements, he was taking money from their accounts weekly, between 500 to 800 dollars each Friday and never had anything to show from it. She said that she may hire a PI to help her get to the bottom of it. I said let me investigate it first, I was going to college for journalism, this would be great practice for me, my dream job was to become an investigative reporter. She said okay, I have the summer, then when I left for college, if I hadn’t found anything she would hire a PI and I agreed. We finished our lunch and told her not to say anything to dad, because it would be harder to catch him if he thought she may know anything, she agreed, this would be our secret.
I told Carol about the situation, she said that she couldn’t believe my dad would ever cheat on his family, she said that both my mom and I were crazy. But said she would help me, she said that she wanted to prove he was doing nothing wrong, but she would keep an open mind. That Saturday I followed my dad as he left the house and he ended up at the library, I walked in and I saw him in the law section reading and he was alone, I walked out and sat in my car for 4 and a half hours. He drove to a restaurant, I could see him from the parking lot as he sat alone, he had a slice of pie and a soda. He left there and just took a walk to the local park, I stayed out of sight, he just sat on a park bench and pulled his phone out, texting someone for the next 30 minutes. He got up and walked back to his car and drove home. I kept driving to kill 30 minutes before returning home, I had found nothing and was disappointed with myself, but happy for my mom. I told Carol what I seen but all she said was I told you your dad’s not a cheater. I looked at her and said this was only day one and who was he texting for 30 minutes. She said maybe another lawyer. I knew she was right, I was grasping at straws, but something didn’t feel right, I was going to continue the investigation.
The following Saturday I had to work, Carol said she would follow him and take notes as to what he was doing and report back to me later that night. I thanked her, I told her she didn’t need to get involved, but she said she felt like she owed it to our family, because of all the years being treated like a daughter. That night Carol and I met up at a coffee shop and she said she followed him to a mall and he went into a bunch of stores but never bought anything, she said he was alone the entire trip other than when he went to the food court and sat with another couple, but it appeared he sat there because no other tables were open, he just sat and ate without saying anything to the couple. I thanked her and we just had a normal evening and went to see a movie. The next Saturday came up and I followed him again and he did exactly the same as I watched him two weeks ago right down to the pie and texting in the park. Carol was just too easily willing to give up, but I wasn’t done yet. She said I was wasting my time that could be better spent studying for college to get a head start. I found this very strange, she never cared about my studies while we were in school why now.
I told her I had to work on the following Saturday, she said she would watch him again. I started to get a gut feeling something was off. I took that day off and I followed them both to the mall. I put on a hoodie that I borrowed by a guy friend, I kept the hood on as I watch and videoed them from my phone as my dad and Carol walked the mall hand in hand, stopping at stores as he bought her clothes, shoes, and they even stopped into a jewelry store and looked at rings together, I had it all on tape. When they left, I continued to follow as they took my dad’s car to a motel, and I saw him get the key from the office and signal her to join him. They both walked into the room. As I was waiting, I was livid, how could my best friend do this to our family. 3 hours later they emerge from the room, he returns the key, then they drive back to the mall, and they say their goodbyes with a long kiss. He drove home and Carol called me as she was still sitting in the mall parking lot to tell me, she watched him all day, but he just walked the mall like her previous investigation, but I knew the truth. I didn’t say anything and thanked her for all her time.
I needed to find out when it started and I just knew it was on her phone, so I went to her house and was immediately told she was in her room. I walked in to see her reading a book, I said I just met these two amazing guys, they wanted to meet up at a new under 21 dance club. She was reluctant to go, but I pleaded with her, she said she had to wash her hair and get ready. This is what I was hoping for, as soon as I heard the shower, I opened her phone messenger and started typing in my dad’s phone number, the name Michael showed up, my dad’s name is Tony. I open the texts and there are thousands of them going back to when she was just 15 years old, the first text was her thanking him for her new phone. I forwarded the entire chat to my home PC and it took 20 minutes. There were so many, I closed her phone just in time for her to re-enter the room. We went to the dance club, I said I didn’t see them, they never existed so of course I didn’t see them, so we left after about an hour. Went to get a bite to eat and drove her home.
That night I spent it going through all of the text starting from the first one and documenting them all. There were talks about how much she enjoyed sharing a Slurpee with him before he dropped her off from our sleepovers. And the car that he bought her, not the uncle as she told me, my freaking dad bought her a car. I even had proof when they had sex for the first time, when she was 16. It also was a bunch of thank yous, for paying for her car insurance and the money my dad had given her weekly, that’s why she always had money. I put this on a thumb drive along with the edited video I had taken during the day. I made 6 copies of the thumb drives, I placed them into envelopes and on the outside it was typed LAWYER IS A CHILD MOLESTER. Inside I had typed a cover sheet stating that a prominent lawyer in the city, was a child molester and the proof was in the thumb drive included.
I had one bit of revenge for my best friend, I asked her out for dinner at the restaurant I worked at, she agreed, I set the table up where her back was facing the kitchen, I went to get our dinner or she thought, when I returned I was so quiet, I walked up as she was writing a text to my dad. I took her hair as I had done many times before, she slammed her phone down on the table face down. And I said how nice it looked today, pulled out the freshly sharpened knife and a final how nice it looked, I lopped it off as she sat there, I walked next to our table as she was grabbing the back of her head, I dropped the ponytail on the ground as I stared into her eyes. She immediately tried to pick up her hair as if she could glue it back on or something, I said this is what you get for having an affair with my dad.
I had sent the thumb drives to the city mayor, the DA’s office, The police department, The local news station one to her parents and one I gave to my mother. When Carol got home the reporters were already camped out on her front lawn. When I returned home, we had news crews and cameras staking out our house also, along with 3 police cars, I watched my dad being taken out of the house wearing handcuffs. He was arrested and will lose everything. I was consoling my mom, when we got a call from CNN looking for a statement, I declined, but was told this was going to get aired tonight, so this was our chance to make a statement, but we still declined. I turned on the TV and my dad was everywhere, every station local news and network news stations. He was on the front page of our local newspaper and the city newspaper. His story was even in the New York post.
Mom and I took a long vacation and disappeared for the next month and let things calm down. When we returned my dad had moved all his clothes out of the house, now he lives in a rundown apartment trying to find a lawyer that will work for him. Carol was kicked out of her family’s home due to the disgrace she brought onto her family, Carol left our town due to shame. Nobody that I know knows where she went or what happened to her, I guess the police must know because she will have to testify against my father at some point. We are still in the thick of things, but I have put college off for the near future to help my mom as this works through the courts and as she files for divorce. We are going to family counseling and trying to piece our lives back together. My dad faces so many charges starting with child molestation because of the text when the first sexual encounter was, he is also facing charges for manipulation of a minor for sexual purposes, and other charges stemming from his affair. He is looking at a possible 10 years of incarceration. I have no feeling for either of them, they manipulated me and my mom for years, they can both rot in hell for all they did to us.
2023.05.30 20:24 thesilverpoets96 Song of the Week: Radio Song
https://youtu.be/0XhYEqz2Hu8
https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/rem/radiosong.html
Hello everyone, I hope all is well. Last week we took a listen and closer look at one of the band’s most beloved songs. And this week, even though I have the feeling most people on here will hate it, we are going to be taking a closer look at one of the bands more “hated” songs. Now this band is one where there seems to be a fan of every song. Sure, the general consensus is most of Around the Sun is forgettable, and that songs like “Stand” and “Shiny Happy People” can be annoying. But the song we are going to talk about today is “Radio Song.”
Now I know what you’re probably thinking, “this song is suppose to be satire! It’s suppose to sound like that, the music is representative of its title. It’s no different than ‘Pop Song 89’ or ‘Shiny Happy People’.” And to that, I say you’re right! Michael even said that he was “taking the piss of everyone” including himself with this song. But unlike those other songs I mentioned, this song is an odd combination of two styles of music and includes a rap outro.
Released as the fourth single, and opener for Out Of Time, “Radio Song” begins with hip hop artist KRS-One saying “Hey, I can't find nothing on the radio. Ah, yo turn to that station.” It’s proceeded by a beautiful electric riff from Peter that almost reminds me of a lullaby. Michael’s vocals sing of turning up the radio and not being able to hear it, and at first this song seems like it’s going to be a gentle start to the album.
But suddenly the drums kick in and we get this more energetic, almost funky kind of sound instead. There’s organs, there’s fast guitar strums, and somewhat odd background vocals. It’s a sound that was probably modern at the time but now sounds a bit dated. Michael is singing about calling “someone out” and making them cry. It’s somewhat vague, and lines like “it’s makes me sad” or the “hey hey hey” line that’s repeated throughout the song seems odd coming from Michael.
What’s even more confusing is how the song goes back and forth from that funky rock sound of the verses and that softer sound of the intro. You also have KRS-One doing his adlibs in the background which is…interesting to say the least. The song also features a decent amount of strings and even horns during the softer parts of the song, maybe in an attempt to contrast the parts even more from each other.
The song definitely has dynamics, the question is whether they work or not. That includes the lyrics, because if Michael is singing about the state of radio, it’s not always clear. He sings about the DJ playing a song that sucks, but he also sings “I’ve everything to show, I’ve everything to hide. Look into my eyes, listen to the radio.”
The most concrete message we get from the song comes at the very end with KRS-One’s rap verse that closes out the song. He says “That stuff is driving me crazy. DJs communicate to the masses, sex and violent classes. Now our children grow up prisoners, all their life, radio listeners.” And again, I know this song is suppose to be tongue in cheek, but it still feels strange coming from this band, in this particular way with conflicting sounds and rapping.
So I’m very curious, what do you think of the song? Is this one of the band’s blunders? Or is it a harmless track that you enjoy? What do you think the song is about? What are your favorite lyrical or musical moments from it. And did you ever catch it live?
submitted by thesilverpoets96 to rem [link] [comments]
https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/rem/radiosong.html
Hello everyone, I hope all is well. Last week we took a listen and closer look at one of the band’s most beloved songs. And this week, even though I have the feeling most people on here will hate it, we are going to be taking a closer look at one of the bands more “hated” songs. Now this band is one where there seems to be a fan of every song. Sure, the general consensus is most of Around the Sun is forgettable, and that songs like “Stand” and “Shiny Happy People” can be annoying. But the song we are going to talk about today is “Radio Song.”
Now I know what you’re probably thinking, “this song is suppose to be satire! It’s suppose to sound like that, the music is representative of its title. It’s no different than ‘Pop Song 89’ or ‘Shiny Happy People’.” And to that, I say you’re right! Michael even said that he was “taking the piss of everyone” including himself with this song. But unlike those other songs I mentioned, this song is an odd combination of two styles of music and includes a rap outro.
Released as the fourth single, and opener for Out Of Time, “Radio Song” begins with hip hop artist KRS-One saying “Hey, I can't find nothing on the radio. Ah, yo turn to that station.” It’s proceeded by a beautiful electric riff from Peter that almost reminds me of a lullaby. Michael’s vocals sing of turning up the radio and not being able to hear it, and at first this song seems like it’s going to be a gentle start to the album.
But suddenly the drums kick in and we get this more energetic, almost funky kind of sound instead. There’s organs, there’s fast guitar strums, and somewhat odd background vocals. It’s a sound that was probably modern at the time but now sounds a bit dated. Michael is singing about calling “someone out” and making them cry. It’s somewhat vague, and lines like “it’s makes me sad” or the “hey hey hey” line that’s repeated throughout the song seems odd coming from Michael.
What’s even more confusing is how the song goes back and forth from that funky rock sound of the verses and that softer sound of the intro. You also have KRS-One doing his adlibs in the background which is…interesting to say the least. The song also features a decent amount of strings and even horns during the softer parts of the song, maybe in an attempt to contrast the parts even more from each other.
The song definitely has dynamics, the question is whether they work or not. That includes the lyrics, because if Michael is singing about the state of radio, it’s not always clear. He sings about the DJ playing a song that sucks, but he also sings “I’ve everything to show, I’ve everything to hide. Look into my eyes, listen to the radio.”
The most concrete message we get from the song comes at the very end with KRS-One’s rap verse that closes out the song. He says “That stuff is driving me crazy. DJs communicate to the masses, sex and violent classes. Now our children grow up prisoners, all their life, radio listeners.” And again, I know this song is suppose to be tongue in cheek, but it still feels strange coming from this band, in this particular way with conflicting sounds and rapping.
So I’m very curious, what do you think of the song? Is this one of the band’s blunders? Or is it a harmless track that you enjoy? What do you think the song is about? What are your favorite lyrical or musical moments from it. And did you ever catch it live?
2023.05.30 20:19 thesilverpoets96 Song of the Week: Coffee Girl
https://youtu.be/-kFYS7ppF40
https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/tragicallyhip/coffeegirl.html
Hello everyone, I hope all is well. Last week we took a listen and closer look at one of the band’s most beloved songs. And this week, even though I have the feeling most people on here will hate it, we are going to be taking a closer look at one of the bands more hotly debated songs, “Coffee Girl”.
Now it’s no surprise that a good amount of fans had to adjust to the band’s two Bob Rock produced albums. World Container had some fantastically written songs so I feel like it had less hate, but We Are The Same is an album that often gets overlooked due to its overproduction and somewhat more basic songwriting. And one of the songs that has been criticized for both those things is the album’s 4th song, “Coffee Girl.”
Much like the rest of the album, the song has a more acoustic sound to it, but this time with a pop production to it. The song features a simple acoustic guitar progression from Paul that almost never changes throughout the song as Rob plays a pretty sparse guitar line over it. Johnny’s drumming is tight but far from his best work and Sinclair is not all that audible thanks to Bob Rock. So if you aren’t into contemporary rock/pop, this song isn’t for you.
And if you are thinking that Gord can save this song, well….about that. Vocally, this song is kinda odd for him because it was around this time period where he was doing more yelling/screaming, especially during live songs. And yet, this song is the complete opposite. He’s singing is extremely reserved to the point that some might think he sounds almost bored. His voice never raises above the volume in which it starts at the beginning of the song.
Lyrically, this song is the most straightforward that Gord has even been. He begins by singing about a girl begrudgingly waking up and walking to work where she is a barista at a coffee shop. He goes on to sing about how she prepares for the day by taking the chairs off the table and turning on the lights. Then we get the chorus which is pretty vague; “Hey there coffee girl, beautiful and disaffected It was perfect till, he came along and wrecked it.”
That last line of the chorus is so what disappointing because it sounds like something that would be sung in a throw away pop song. Like who is this “he?” Gord is not only extremely vague with these characters, we don’t hear this other character until the bridge of the song.
The second verse at least has some actually interesting lyrics. Gord sings about “outdated” mix tapes including Cat Power and “classic Beck.” Gord also uses the word “purveyors” which in the context of this simple song, seems sticks out. But that’s also “classic Gord.”
Arguably, the most interesting aspect of the song comes with a trumpet solo after the second chorus! It’s played by guest musician Derry Byrne and it’s actually quite lovely. It’s not over the top nor does it take away from the already subtle soundscapes of the song. It adds a lot to a somewhat empty song and it makes me question if the Hip should have actually had a permanent horn player in the band.
The last bits of lyrics we get before the song ends with a last chorus is also kinda confusing. Gord is singing about how this coffee protagonist is given an ultimatum from this guy that we know nothing about. This whole song basically has no stakes. Like, is there anything to this song other than “coffee girl?”
Now I’m not going to say that everything about this song is disappointing. The trumpet bit works well and does elevate the song. And I actually like Gord’s vocals on this song, it’s nice to hear a more gentle side of his voice.
That said, this song is very far from their best. The band does not have a lot to do in this song musically, the lyrics don’t say a whole lot and Paul doesn’t even get backing vocals on this song! I’m pretty sure Bob Rock just had Gord record his own backing vocals. It’s a song that seems to go in one ear and out the other. If this song was written by Matchbox Twenty, no one would bat an eye. But this is the Hip! They are more special than that.
But what do you think? Is this one of that band’s least creative song? Or is it one you enjoy? What do you think the song is about? Favorite lyrical or musical moments? And did you ever catch it live?
submitted by thesilverpoets96 to TragicallyHip [link] [comments]
https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/tragicallyhip/coffeegirl.html
Hello everyone, I hope all is well. Last week we took a listen and closer look at one of the band’s most beloved songs. And this week, even though I have the feeling most people on here will hate it, we are going to be taking a closer look at one of the bands more hotly debated songs, “Coffee Girl”.
Now it’s no surprise that a good amount of fans had to adjust to the band’s two Bob Rock produced albums. World Container had some fantastically written songs so I feel like it had less hate, but We Are The Same is an album that often gets overlooked due to its overproduction and somewhat more basic songwriting. And one of the songs that has been criticized for both those things is the album’s 4th song, “Coffee Girl.”
Much like the rest of the album, the song has a more acoustic sound to it, but this time with a pop production to it. The song features a simple acoustic guitar progression from Paul that almost never changes throughout the song as Rob plays a pretty sparse guitar line over it. Johnny’s drumming is tight but far from his best work and Sinclair is not all that audible thanks to Bob Rock. So if you aren’t into contemporary rock/pop, this song isn’t for you.
And if you are thinking that Gord can save this song, well….about that. Vocally, this song is kinda odd for him because it was around this time period where he was doing more yelling/screaming, especially during live songs. And yet, this song is the complete opposite. He’s singing is extremely reserved to the point that some might think he sounds almost bored. His voice never raises above the volume in which it starts at the beginning of the song.
Lyrically, this song is the most straightforward that Gord has even been. He begins by singing about a girl begrudgingly waking up and walking to work where she is a barista at a coffee shop. He goes on to sing about how she prepares for the day by taking the chairs off the table and turning on the lights. Then we get the chorus which is pretty vague; “Hey there coffee girl, beautiful and disaffected It was perfect till, he came along and wrecked it.”
That last line of the chorus is so what disappointing because it sounds like something that would be sung in a throw away pop song. Like who is this “he?” Gord is not only extremely vague with these characters, we don’t hear this other character until the bridge of the song.
The second verse at least has some actually interesting lyrics. Gord sings about “outdated” mix tapes including Cat Power and “classic Beck.” Gord also uses the word “purveyors” which in the context of this simple song, seems sticks out. But that’s also “classic Gord.”
Arguably, the most interesting aspect of the song comes with a trumpet solo after the second chorus! It’s played by guest musician Derry Byrne and it’s actually quite lovely. It’s not over the top nor does it take away from the already subtle soundscapes of the song. It adds a lot to a somewhat empty song and it makes me question if the Hip should have actually had a permanent horn player in the band.
The last bits of lyrics we get before the song ends with a last chorus is also kinda confusing. Gord is singing about how this coffee protagonist is given an ultimatum from this guy that we know nothing about. This whole song basically has no stakes. Like, is there anything to this song other than “coffee girl?”
Now I’m not going to say that everything about this song is disappointing. The trumpet bit works well and does elevate the song. And I actually like Gord’s vocals on this song, it’s nice to hear a more gentle side of his voice.
That said, this song is very far from their best. The band does not have a lot to do in this song musically, the lyrics don’t say a whole lot and Paul doesn’t even get backing vocals on this song! I’m pretty sure Bob Rock just had Gord record his own backing vocals. It’s a song that seems to go in one ear and out the other. If this song was written by Matchbox Twenty, no one would bat an eye. But this is the Hip! They are more special than that.
But what do you think? Is this one of that band’s least creative song? Or is it one you enjoy? What do you think the song is about? Favorite lyrical or musical moments? And did you ever catch it live?
2023.05.30 20:06 USGuyWithGun The Flex!
 | My new board. Oh boy I had to do lots to this. The GMMK Pro features: Gateron box ink pink V2 switches GMK inukuma keycaps Gateron Ink V2 stabs lubed and tuned PE switch pad foam A polycarbonate plate with flex cuts Poron Plate foam Triple gasket mount mod Tape mod (3 layers) And the included case foam submitted by USGuyWithGun to MechanicalKeyboards [link] [comments] The board rocks. |
2023.05.30 19:51 defidefi [WTS] Black Phantom, Pacific Rock Moss, 40 Knots, Oud For Greatness, Haltane, Layton, BR540 EDP & Grand Soir, Nishane, Le Labo, YSL Tuxedo, Designers & More! (Decant)
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submitted by defidefi to fragranceswap [link] [comments]
- Shipping: Starts at $4.00 to anywhere in the US with tracking for the first few decants (depending on size), then $8.00 for more decants (I will let you know if it's required). Almost all orders go out next business day.
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- The glass atomizers are 3ml, 5ml, and 10ml (stubby now!), but I could do any variation of the sizes, just ask. They are decanted fresh from the bottle via syringe once payment has been made. I use ptfe tape to seal the bottle to the atomizer. They will also be labeled.
https://imgur.com/a/WQAUpoq
| 30ml Shipped | 60ml Shipped | |
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| Le Labo (if in stock) | $85 | -- |
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2023.05.30 19:23 TheDeliciousMeats Bone Music: Chapter 13
Previous
That night Simon and Nemeria watched from the rooftop of a rented apartment in Coven as shooting stars fell over Homeworld for the first time. "Make a wish, my love." She said as she put her head in his lap, the rapidly disintegrating space station above filling the sky with streaks of light that reflected in her eyes.
He thought about it for a second. "Should I tell you what it is?"
"No, definitely not." Nemeria replied. "Then it won't come true."
"Oh… then I will not." Simon said as he played with her hair. For a moment he felt as if he were standing at a crossroads, straddling two potential futures, then the feeling faded. He had wished for them to have a happy life together. He felt they at least deserved that after all they had been through and all the time they had spent apart.
The morning after Haven fell something interesting happened. Pirate radio stations began to emerge, filling the airways with music, but it wasn't like anything they had heard before. It was something new.
"Good morning Homeworld!" Called out a rough but enthusiastic voice in Dansk from the clock radio on the dresser. It was out of arm's reach, probably so the person being woken up would have to actually get out of bed to shut it off. "This is not a test, this is rock and roll! Time to rock it from Katzenlund to the Winter lands! Is it too early to be this loud? Too late!"
Simon frowned at the clock radio. He didn't remember scheduling an alarm. "I'm Mr. Bones and this is human music! I'm going to start off with a favorite of mine, Zombie by the Cranberries!"
He went to turn it off but Nemeria tackled him before he could reach the button. "Do you dare." She said as she pulled him back into bed. "That song is a classic."
So instead of starting the day early they stayed in bed and listened to The Doors, Elvis Presley, Fleetwood Mac, Jimi Hendrix, Lou Reed, and Pink Floyd. It was surprisingly good, even if his wetware had a hard time translating the lyrics.
"Human music on the radio." Nemeria mused, her head on his chest. "I never thought I would see the day."
"Oh? I just assumed you people didn't like to share." Simon tousled her hair, it was starting to change from dull brown to a more vivid copper red.
"No. There are countermeasures in place, Haven would have sent a kill team to destroy anyone who tried or just blasted the site from orbit. We had a black market, exchanging things from the old world, books, music, things to keep us sane. But it was very hush hush." Nemeria looked at him, her eyes were different too, they were an almost opalescent green. Something had changed in her. "I want to read you something."
"Alright." Simon sat up, his muscular shoulders against the headboard and he listened as she recited Edna and Shakespeare from memory, beautiful human words, full of sentiment and meaning.
"That was beautiful." Simon said. "Why haven't you shared this with me before?"
"It wasn't allowed. You would have felt compelled to share it and then Haven would have come for you." She smiled, but for once there was no pain behind it, or guilt. Perhaps it was the first real smile he had even seen on her face. It was like a weight had been lifted. "But now, there is no Haven. We don't have to worry about them anymore. We can live our lives, start anew."
"You seem different… unburdened." Simon observed.
"I am. I woke up this morning and realized that I don't have to feel guilty for something someone else did. Something that I never played a part in. I should have realized it sooner, but something was blocking me from making the connection." She laid back in bed. "I feel… new? Is that the word? Yes, new. I feel like I'm not the same person who went to sleep last night."
The old hund's words echoed in Simon's mind. He had said he would crack Haven like an egg, destroy the Howl, then set everyone free. So was he free? How different would he be now that his programming no longer bound him to her?
Before they had parted the old hund had given him a piece of advice. He had told Simon that love was a choice, not a feeling. That if he wanted things to work out with Nemeria he would have to choose her, and keep choosing her, to decide once and for all that he would always love her. And to stand by that choice.
"Would you please give me your ring?" Simon asked. "There's something I need to do."
Nemeria slipped the silver band off her finger and handed it over. Then Simon sat her on the edge of the bed and knelt down. "The world is new, we are new, so I ask… will you marry me? Will you be my wife?"
Nemeria paused, realizing that she had a choice to make. Before then she had been hard coded to love him, hard coded to believe that she was someone, now all that was falling away. Her mind was free, unshackled. Unburdened. She remembered so much that had been kept hidden from her.
The Red Titan had stolen one of Esmerelda's backup clones and poured their mind into it, essentially putting the mind of one warden into the body of another. But that didn't make her them. She was someone else, someone new. She didn't have to pay for their mistakes anymore.
But what about Simon? Did she love him? Could she love him? Did she want to commit to this when her whole life was ahead of her? And the child, she had agreed to raise a child! Did she even know that she would like being a mother? Or that she would be a good one?
A soft caress brought her back to reality. It was Simon, touching her cheek with the tips of his fingers. "I don't know what is going on, or what tomorrow will hold, or even how I will feel, and it terrifies me. But I know that together we can face anything. We have a chance to choose for ourselves, and I choose you. I promise that I will always choose you."
Then as he went to slip the ring on her finger he repeated what she had told him when she handed him his first Vampirzahn. He didn't know where it came from or what it meant. But the sentiment had been clear, that she couldn't protect him from the world, that she couldn't keep him safe, that this was all she could give and she hoped that it would be enough. "It's dangerous to go alone, take this."
Nemeria laughed and accepted the ring. "Yes it is, isn't it? I suppose you're stuck with me now."
"Damn. Perhaps I should rethink things?" Simon laughed as he pulled her back into bed. "No, I think I like this." He gave her a playful nip on the side of the neck. "Yes, I believe I do."
They made love until the afternoon then went out for pastries and provisions. Somehow it felt right, finally choosing each other. They walked hand in hand, ignoring the looks of surprise at a human and a hund so boldly displaying their affection. GG had said she would contact them when the child was ready to be picked up.
"I can't believe Haven is actually gone." Nemeria said as she sat on a bench eating an ice cream cone. Technically they were in a graveyard, but between the sunshine and the families with their strollers it felt just like any other park.
She took a second to make sure nobody was listening. "I joined some of the old nets anonymously and asked around. Everyone says it was some kind of system failure, or possibly sabotage. Apparently the boosters just went haywire, spun it until it fell apart."
"It's hard to believe it." Simon looked up at the clear sky, there wasn't a single sign of the once proud space station. "I wonder if there will be a backlash against humans now that there isn't anything stopping us from getting even."
"Possibly, but we're resilient and useful. With Haven destroyed I expect you will see a lot of human tech being sold to the highest bidder. And not just tech, entertainment as well. There are a bunch of black market music and books that are going to see the light for the first time in centuries."
Simon felt a call come in from GG and he accepted it. The encryption in their wetware made sure nobody else could listen in. She got straight to the point.
"Someone took out all of the Howl's senior leadership last night." She said over the link, "It was a bloodbath."
Simon blinked in surprise. "What happened? And why wasn't I invited? Was it Las Brujas?" He replied back, his wetware translating thoughts to words.
"Details are sparse but apparently they had an emergency meeting to discuss what to do about the Haven situation and someone took the opportunity to clean house. It was some kind of commando style raid, nobody knows who or why. All the tapes and satellite images were erased. Just a lot of dead bodies." She sent him a few choice photos. "Multiple locations were hit simultaneously. All locations were remote and heavily guarded. Looks like whoever this was they hit hard and fast. Local security was packbound and armed to the teeth, didn't help. They were put down with precise shots and a minimum of fuss. Look familiar?"
He sucked in his breath. Somebody had been using a Jagdkommando carbine, he recognized the tiny entrance and massive exit wounds. Yes, they looked familiar. He had carried that same rifle.
Even five decades after their defeat Döbi still produced some of the most sought after weapons. Half the militaries on Homeworld used their hardware. But these were old classics, pre-war. Someone was sending a message.
New tech was all about drones and smart munitions. Why risk a soldier's life when you could lob a smart grenade through a window that would identify friend from foe and destroy the latter with smart shrapnel? No, this was old school. Someone looked them in the face and pulled the trigger.
Apparently the old hund hasn't been lying when he said he would destroy the Howl. But what kind of power vacuum would that leave? And who would step in? The Howl wasn't just a supremacist group. They ran weapons, narcotics and black market tech all over the globe. They had strongholds in various capital cities and major political protection.
"Any noise on who is going to step up now that they're out of commission?" Simon asked.
"It's too soon to say but my money is on the Bone Syndicate. They've been looking to expand and with the Howl out of the way they'll probably jump at the chance. They've been staying out of the news but my sources say they have been muscling out smaller gangs and taking over their turf. Nobody seems to mind because there aren't gunfights in the streets anymore. But it's still organized crime."
Simon was familiar with the Bone Syndicate, he had even done some work for them after they restructured a few decades back. Territory under their control tended to be mostly peaceful and safe, so long as you followed the rules. They even helped out during national disasters. But the line between gangsters and good samaritans tended to blur.
They might extort local restaurants then give them money to rebuild after a fire. They would blackmail politicians… to ensure a new school got funded. Or to pass a social welfare bill. It was almost as if they had decided that the best way for them to make money was to improve the areas which they controlled. And it was working.
They operated almost in the open and had so thoroughly greased all levels of local government that any attempt to take them down would cause a major budget crisis. But when they did choose violence, it was with massively overwhelming force and military precision. Yes, this sounded like their way of doing things. The old hund must have tipped them off.
"Any news on our bundle of joy?" Simon asked.
"Yes, she is en route." GG confirmed. "She should arrive in a few hours. We have papers for her ready as well as a safe house in Porto."
Porto? Now that was a surprise. "Why Porto?"
"Because they acknowledge mixed species marriages and it's one of the few places you have amnesty." GG reminded him. "You are technically a war criminal. Even if most of the world thinks you are dead."
After the war Porto had offered him amnesty in return for helping them hunt down and kill those responsible for the genocide of their fellow katzen. Porto was after all a mostly katzen nation and they knew how to hold a grudge. So he had joined a task force of other enhanced hunds and katzen with a similar thirst for blood and they had done their best to kill every last one of the people responsible. Afterwards he had gone into the private sector, but it was true, he did have a place to go if he ever felt like retiring.
He contemplated that for a moment. If he was going to raise a child he couldn't exactly run off for months at a time to do contract work. Perhaps it was time to retire, at least until she was grown. It wasn't like he needed the money. Perhaps it was time to become the warrior in the gardens like the old hund had said.
"How do you feel about moving to Porto?" Simon asked after he broke the connection.
"Oh, I have a little place near Intra, on the coast." Nemeria frowned. "I don't think I've been back in quite some time though. Let me check something…"
Her eyelids fluttered as she scanned the net. "Yes, the management company I hired is renting it out. I can have them cancel the bookings and make it ready for us, if that's what you want." She smiled. "It's quite well defended, I purchased it in my post-war phase when I thought everyone was out to get me. We could hold off an army there."
"Perfect." Simon said, squeezing her hand three times and receiving three squeezes back in reply. In the camps that had been their secret way of saying "I love you" and he was happy to see that she still remembered.
He looked out across the park and frowned. "Darling, was that church always there?"
Nemeria followed his gaze, her eyes narrowed. "No… I'd say it wasn't. Now the question is, was it hidden or did it just appear?"
Simon cocked his head to the side, surprised at the flexibility of her thought process. It was like she was waking up, becoming bright again, becoming the person he had fallen in love with in the camps. "Shall we investigate?" He asked.
"Oh yes. Definitely." Nemeria made a gesture with her fingers and he could almost swear there was a faint rainbow flickering of light in the palm of her right hand.
"Dearest, what was that?" He asked as they stalked across the graveyard.
"Oh, it's something old. It goes nicely with the something new." Nemeria said playfully, nudging him with her hip.
Simon mentally filed that strangeness into a drawer marked "wife/human stuff" and put it out of his mind. There was no sense trying to understand it all, to attempt to do so was to invite madness.
The church was old, hundreds of years old. With moss growing from the roof and black stones making up the walls. Which made it very strange indeed that it seemed to have just appeared out of nowhere and hadn't been there yesterday.
"Fascinating." Nemeria said as she turned around, not looking at the church but at the people around them. "Absolutely fascinating."
Simon didn't get it. "What is so interesting, my love?"
"It's an SEP field." Nemeria replied.
"And that is?" Simon pressed.
"Someone else's problem." She turned to him and smiled. "They can all see it, they just ignore it. But look at them. Really look."
Simon did as requested, they seemed like normal hunds to him. There were certainly more bicycles than he was used to but then again this was Coven. Then he looked with his other senses and he quickly realized that what was going on was anything but normal.
Almost everyone in the park was running some form of wetware, even the pups. Warhunds shared data along a kind of mesh network that mixed low power local signals with satellite uplinks and repeaters to allow them to communicate nearly instantly and move as a team. This was something similar but with vastly more users.
He looked up with his mind and touched a commercial recon satellite, purchasing some time through a shell company, accessing its spectral analysis capabilities. The whole city was a hotbed of activity, and the network was growing at an exponential rate.
A wave of digital traffic was spreading out over the country, awakening new mesh nodes as it went, strengthening and spreading the network. Soon it was in Döbi, Möhi, Sühi, and the rest of the continent.
He looked down, his own wetware telling him something very important. It wasn't just the living who were part of the network. Somehow it seemed to be leveraging the dead as well.
Some of the more recent graves seemed to be exchanging packets with the network. Answering queries perhaps? But what could the dead possibly have to say?
"Many things, I would imagine." Said a raspy voice from the entrance of the church, seemingly reading his thoughts. It was an old Döbian with high cut ears, but it was hard to say if it was the same one he had met in his dream. He was wearing plain black clothes and a white priest's collar rubbed with sandalwood, the traditional scent of his station. "Come, you don't want to be late for the wedding."
Nemeria and Simon exchanged a knowing look. "It's our wedding, isn't it?" Simon asked.
"Of course." The old hund said with a dry chuckle. "Who's else would it be? You know that this is one of the few places you two can get married, don't you? Why else bring you here?" He gestured for them to come inside.
Nemeria shrugged and walked towards the door, that same strange shimmer dancing around the fingertips of her right hand. "You said you brought us here. Why?"
"As bait, mostly." The old hund laughed as he turned his back on her and entered the building, talking as he walked. "But also because I have fond memories of this city. Plus the whole marriage thing. It was owed to you, a chance at a happy ending."
Nemeria looked at Simon and raised an eyebrow.
Simon just shrugged. "He's a friend… I think."
The church was well maintained, if dusty. The windows were not particularly ornate and the altar didn't hold anything worth stealing. Simon tried not to let his hackles rise at the idea of being used as bait. But bait for what? He wondered.
The old hund spun on his heel and faced Simon. "Bait… for a warden." He explained. "A very nasty warden who has quietly been growing their power and influence since the war. A cancer which, if unchecked, will spell the end of this world and all within it. Also he is a threat to my granddaughter, so that means he must die."
"How are you reading my mind?" Simon demanded angrily. It seemed like all he had to do was think of a question and the hund would answer it.
"Because to think of a question when we share a network, dear brother, is to ask it." The old hund replied cryptically. "Your wetware is querying me for information, seeing if I have an answer."
Simon frowned. "I know you… don't I? From before the war? You said we were like half brothers…" He felt a name coming to his lips, but it was as if the memory was fighting him. "Are you Gershwin's son? The pup he brought back from the dead? The reason for all this madness?"
"Yes, I am Kerner. As are many others." The old hund shrugged. "I suppose it is a very common name where I come from. Perhaps more common now."
Simon blinked. "Copies… you and the other hund I spoke with… you're copies of Kerner. The same mind spread out over different bodies." He could see it now, the advanced age made it hard to tell but this wasn't the same hund he had met in virtual.
"Duplicates yes, but not necessarily equals. Not until today." The old hund explained. "Only one of us at a time had the ability to make more, to overwrite wetware at will, to influence the Gravekeeper. But he patched out those vulnerabilities yesterday after Haven fell and the Howl was brought low. Now we are all just regular warhunds. The more recent of our number may revert back to their former selves, others will find a middle ground, and the old ones will most likely remain the same. After all, I have been Kerner for most of my life. I see little reason to change now."
"But how many of you are there?" Simon pressed.
"Many." Kerner said with a shrug. "Though now that I have revealed myself perhaps that number will decrease rapidly." The old hund chuckled, gesturing towards Nemeria. "Your other half will see to that if I am unable to stop him."
Now it was Nemeria's turn to be confused. "You don't mean Simon, do you?"
"No, I do not." The old hund sat down on an old wooden chair, looking up at the bare altar. "The problem with making copies is that the original still remains. I was made when Kerner was murdered by his sister during a training exercise. He jumped out of an airplane and realized half way down that his parachute had been sabotaged. I remember feeling his fear, his desperation, and I remember seeing him hit the ground."
The old hund looked back over his shoulder at her. "You my dear are one possible answer to a question. What does one do when the body does not fit the mind? Either the being must suffer, the body must change, or the mind must change."
The old hund went back to looking at the altar. "It's amazing how paths can split. You went one way, and he went another. You took a form to fit your mind, and he altered his mind to accept his form."
There was a polite knock on the ancient timbers of the open church door as a tall well built man with flaming red hair entered the building.
He looked at Simon and smiled. "Hello, Puppy." He said softly. It was Nemeria's old form, her old identity, the Red Titan, very much alive.
Simon realized now that the dead body he saw in the lab as they were fleeing had been a fake. This was Raul Reyes, in all his glory. A flash of anger rose in Simon as he realized that Raul had tricked him, made him think that he was alone for all these years. What a cruel thing to do to someone that you said you loved. The betrayal of it wrenched at Simon's heart, tearing open old wounds.
Simon reached out and took Nemeria's left hand, squeezing it firmly three times. "I choose you." He said. "I will always choose you. Fuck him, he's dead to me."
Nemeria squeezed back three times. "I have your back, whatever happens."
submitted by TheDeliciousMeats to HFY [link] [comments]
That night Simon and Nemeria watched from the rooftop of a rented apartment in Coven as shooting stars fell over Homeworld for the first time. "Make a wish, my love." She said as she put her head in his lap, the rapidly disintegrating space station above filling the sky with streaks of light that reflected in her eyes.
He thought about it for a second. "Should I tell you what it is?"
"No, definitely not." Nemeria replied. "Then it won't come true."
"Oh… then I will not." Simon said as he played with her hair. For a moment he felt as if he were standing at a crossroads, straddling two potential futures, then the feeling faded. He had wished for them to have a happy life together. He felt they at least deserved that after all they had been through and all the time they had spent apart.
The morning after Haven fell something interesting happened. Pirate radio stations began to emerge, filling the airways with music, but it wasn't like anything they had heard before. It was something new.
"Good morning Homeworld!" Called out a rough but enthusiastic voice in Dansk from the clock radio on the dresser. It was out of arm's reach, probably so the person being woken up would have to actually get out of bed to shut it off. "This is not a test, this is rock and roll! Time to rock it from Katzenlund to the Winter lands! Is it too early to be this loud? Too late!"
Simon frowned at the clock radio. He didn't remember scheduling an alarm. "I'm Mr. Bones and this is human music! I'm going to start off with a favorite of mine, Zombie by the Cranberries!"
He went to turn it off but Nemeria tackled him before he could reach the button. "Do you dare." She said as she pulled him back into bed. "That song is a classic."
So instead of starting the day early they stayed in bed and listened to The Doors, Elvis Presley, Fleetwood Mac, Jimi Hendrix, Lou Reed, and Pink Floyd. It was surprisingly good, even if his wetware had a hard time translating the lyrics.
"Human music on the radio." Nemeria mused, her head on his chest. "I never thought I would see the day."
"Oh? I just assumed you people didn't like to share." Simon tousled her hair, it was starting to change from dull brown to a more vivid copper red.
"No. There are countermeasures in place, Haven would have sent a kill team to destroy anyone who tried or just blasted the site from orbit. We had a black market, exchanging things from the old world, books, music, things to keep us sane. But it was very hush hush." Nemeria looked at him, her eyes were different too, they were an almost opalescent green. Something had changed in her. "I want to read you something."
"Alright." Simon sat up, his muscular shoulders against the headboard and he listened as she recited Edna and Shakespeare from memory, beautiful human words, full of sentiment and meaning.
"That was beautiful." Simon said. "Why haven't you shared this with me before?"
"It wasn't allowed. You would have felt compelled to share it and then Haven would have come for you." She smiled, but for once there was no pain behind it, or guilt. Perhaps it was the first real smile he had even seen on her face. It was like a weight had been lifted. "But now, there is no Haven. We don't have to worry about them anymore. We can live our lives, start anew."
"You seem different… unburdened." Simon observed.
"I am. I woke up this morning and realized that I don't have to feel guilty for something someone else did. Something that I never played a part in. I should have realized it sooner, but something was blocking me from making the connection." She laid back in bed. "I feel… new? Is that the word? Yes, new. I feel like I'm not the same person who went to sleep last night."
The old hund's words echoed in Simon's mind. He had said he would crack Haven like an egg, destroy the Howl, then set everyone free. So was he free? How different would he be now that his programming no longer bound him to her?
Before they had parted the old hund had given him a piece of advice. He had told Simon that love was a choice, not a feeling. That if he wanted things to work out with Nemeria he would have to choose her, and keep choosing her, to decide once and for all that he would always love her. And to stand by that choice.
"Would you please give me your ring?" Simon asked. "There's something I need to do."
Nemeria slipped the silver band off her finger and handed it over. Then Simon sat her on the edge of the bed and knelt down. "The world is new, we are new, so I ask… will you marry me? Will you be my wife?"
Nemeria paused, realizing that she had a choice to make. Before then she had been hard coded to love him, hard coded to believe that she was someone, now all that was falling away. Her mind was free, unshackled. Unburdened. She remembered so much that had been kept hidden from her.
The Red Titan had stolen one of Esmerelda's backup clones and poured their mind into it, essentially putting the mind of one warden into the body of another. But that didn't make her them. She was someone else, someone new. She didn't have to pay for their mistakes anymore.
But what about Simon? Did she love him? Could she love him? Did she want to commit to this when her whole life was ahead of her? And the child, she had agreed to raise a child! Did she even know that she would like being a mother? Or that she would be a good one?
A soft caress brought her back to reality. It was Simon, touching her cheek with the tips of his fingers. "I don't know what is going on, or what tomorrow will hold, or even how I will feel, and it terrifies me. But I know that together we can face anything. We have a chance to choose for ourselves, and I choose you. I promise that I will always choose you."
Then as he went to slip the ring on her finger he repeated what she had told him when she handed him his first Vampirzahn. He didn't know where it came from or what it meant. But the sentiment had been clear, that she couldn't protect him from the world, that she couldn't keep him safe, that this was all she could give and she hoped that it would be enough. "It's dangerous to go alone, take this."
Nemeria laughed and accepted the ring. "Yes it is, isn't it? I suppose you're stuck with me now."
"Damn. Perhaps I should rethink things?" Simon laughed as he pulled her back into bed. "No, I think I like this." He gave her a playful nip on the side of the neck. "Yes, I believe I do."
They made love until the afternoon then went out for pastries and provisions. Somehow it felt right, finally choosing each other. They walked hand in hand, ignoring the looks of surprise at a human and a hund so boldly displaying their affection. GG had said she would contact them when the child was ready to be picked up.
"I can't believe Haven is actually gone." Nemeria said as she sat on a bench eating an ice cream cone. Technically they were in a graveyard, but between the sunshine and the families with their strollers it felt just like any other park.
She took a second to make sure nobody was listening. "I joined some of the old nets anonymously and asked around. Everyone says it was some kind of system failure, or possibly sabotage. Apparently the boosters just went haywire, spun it until it fell apart."
"It's hard to believe it." Simon looked up at the clear sky, there wasn't a single sign of the once proud space station. "I wonder if there will be a backlash against humans now that there isn't anything stopping us from getting even."
"Possibly, but we're resilient and useful. With Haven destroyed I expect you will see a lot of human tech being sold to the highest bidder. And not just tech, entertainment as well. There are a bunch of black market music and books that are going to see the light for the first time in centuries."
Simon felt a call come in from GG and he accepted it. The encryption in their wetware made sure nobody else could listen in. She got straight to the point.
"Someone took out all of the Howl's senior leadership last night." She said over the link, "It was a bloodbath."
Simon blinked in surprise. "What happened? And why wasn't I invited? Was it Las Brujas?" He replied back, his wetware translating thoughts to words.
"Details are sparse but apparently they had an emergency meeting to discuss what to do about the Haven situation and someone took the opportunity to clean house. It was some kind of commando style raid, nobody knows who or why. All the tapes and satellite images were erased. Just a lot of dead bodies." She sent him a few choice photos. "Multiple locations were hit simultaneously. All locations were remote and heavily guarded. Looks like whoever this was they hit hard and fast. Local security was packbound and armed to the teeth, didn't help. They were put down with precise shots and a minimum of fuss. Look familiar?"
He sucked in his breath. Somebody had been using a Jagdkommando carbine, he recognized the tiny entrance and massive exit wounds. Yes, they looked familiar. He had carried that same rifle.
Even five decades after their defeat Döbi still produced some of the most sought after weapons. Half the militaries on Homeworld used their hardware. But these were old classics, pre-war. Someone was sending a message.
New tech was all about drones and smart munitions. Why risk a soldier's life when you could lob a smart grenade through a window that would identify friend from foe and destroy the latter with smart shrapnel? No, this was old school. Someone looked them in the face and pulled the trigger.
Apparently the old hund hasn't been lying when he said he would destroy the Howl. But what kind of power vacuum would that leave? And who would step in? The Howl wasn't just a supremacist group. They ran weapons, narcotics and black market tech all over the globe. They had strongholds in various capital cities and major political protection.
"Any noise on who is going to step up now that they're out of commission?" Simon asked.
"It's too soon to say but my money is on the Bone Syndicate. They've been looking to expand and with the Howl out of the way they'll probably jump at the chance. They've been staying out of the news but my sources say they have been muscling out smaller gangs and taking over their turf. Nobody seems to mind because there aren't gunfights in the streets anymore. But it's still organized crime."
Simon was familiar with the Bone Syndicate, he had even done some work for them after they restructured a few decades back. Territory under their control tended to be mostly peaceful and safe, so long as you followed the rules. They even helped out during national disasters. But the line between gangsters and good samaritans tended to blur.
They might extort local restaurants then give them money to rebuild after a fire. They would blackmail politicians… to ensure a new school got funded. Or to pass a social welfare bill. It was almost as if they had decided that the best way for them to make money was to improve the areas which they controlled. And it was working.
They operated almost in the open and had so thoroughly greased all levels of local government that any attempt to take them down would cause a major budget crisis. But when they did choose violence, it was with massively overwhelming force and military precision. Yes, this sounded like their way of doing things. The old hund must have tipped them off.
"Any news on our bundle of joy?" Simon asked.
"Yes, she is en route." GG confirmed. "She should arrive in a few hours. We have papers for her ready as well as a safe house in Porto."
Porto? Now that was a surprise. "Why Porto?"
"Because they acknowledge mixed species marriages and it's one of the few places you have amnesty." GG reminded him. "You are technically a war criminal. Even if most of the world thinks you are dead."
After the war Porto had offered him amnesty in return for helping them hunt down and kill those responsible for the genocide of their fellow katzen. Porto was after all a mostly katzen nation and they knew how to hold a grudge. So he had joined a task force of other enhanced hunds and katzen with a similar thirst for blood and they had done their best to kill every last one of the people responsible. Afterwards he had gone into the private sector, but it was true, he did have a place to go if he ever felt like retiring.
He contemplated that for a moment. If he was going to raise a child he couldn't exactly run off for months at a time to do contract work. Perhaps it was time to retire, at least until she was grown. It wasn't like he needed the money. Perhaps it was time to become the warrior in the gardens like the old hund had said.
"How do you feel about moving to Porto?" Simon asked after he broke the connection.
"Oh, I have a little place near Intra, on the coast." Nemeria frowned. "I don't think I've been back in quite some time though. Let me check something…"
Her eyelids fluttered as she scanned the net. "Yes, the management company I hired is renting it out. I can have them cancel the bookings and make it ready for us, if that's what you want." She smiled. "It's quite well defended, I purchased it in my post-war phase when I thought everyone was out to get me. We could hold off an army there."
"Perfect." Simon said, squeezing her hand three times and receiving three squeezes back in reply. In the camps that had been their secret way of saying "I love you" and he was happy to see that she still remembered.
He looked out across the park and frowned. "Darling, was that church always there?"
Nemeria followed his gaze, her eyes narrowed. "No… I'd say it wasn't. Now the question is, was it hidden or did it just appear?"
Simon cocked his head to the side, surprised at the flexibility of her thought process. It was like she was waking up, becoming bright again, becoming the person he had fallen in love with in the camps. "Shall we investigate?" He asked.
"Oh yes. Definitely." Nemeria made a gesture with her fingers and he could almost swear there was a faint rainbow flickering of light in the palm of her right hand.
"Dearest, what was that?" He asked as they stalked across the graveyard.
"Oh, it's something old. It goes nicely with the something new." Nemeria said playfully, nudging him with her hip.
Simon mentally filed that strangeness into a drawer marked "wife/human stuff" and put it out of his mind. There was no sense trying to understand it all, to attempt to do so was to invite madness.
The church was old, hundreds of years old. With moss growing from the roof and black stones making up the walls. Which made it very strange indeed that it seemed to have just appeared out of nowhere and hadn't been there yesterday.
"Fascinating." Nemeria said as she turned around, not looking at the church but at the people around them. "Absolutely fascinating."
Simon didn't get it. "What is so interesting, my love?"
"It's an SEP field." Nemeria replied.
"And that is?" Simon pressed.
"Someone else's problem." She turned to him and smiled. "They can all see it, they just ignore it. But look at them. Really look."
Simon did as requested, they seemed like normal hunds to him. There were certainly more bicycles than he was used to but then again this was Coven. Then he looked with his other senses and he quickly realized that what was going on was anything but normal.
Almost everyone in the park was running some form of wetware, even the pups. Warhunds shared data along a kind of mesh network that mixed low power local signals with satellite uplinks and repeaters to allow them to communicate nearly instantly and move as a team. This was something similar but with vastly more users.
He looked up with his mind and touched a commercial recon satellite, purchasing some time through a shell company, accessing its spectral analysis capabilities. The whole city was a hotbed of activity, and the network was growing at an exponential rate.
A wave of digital traffic was spreading out over the country, awakening new mesh nodes as it went, strengthening and spreading the network. Soon it was in Döbi, Möhi, Sühi, and the rest of the continent.
He looked down, his own wetware telling him something very important. It wasn't just the living who were part of the network. Somehow it seemed to be leveraging the dead as well.
Some of the more recent graves seemed to be exchanging packets with the network. Answering queries perhaps? But what could the dead possibly have to say?
"Many things, I would imagine." Said a raspy voice from the entrance of the church, seemingly reading his thoughts. It was an old Döbian with high cut ears, but it was hard to say if it was the same one he had met in his dream. He was wearing plain black clothes and a white priest's collar rubbed with sandalwood, the traditional scent of his station. "Come, you don't want to be late for the wedding."
Nemeria and Simon exchanged a knowing look. "It's our wedding, isn't it?" Simon asked.
"Of course." The old hund said with a dry chuckle. "Who's else would it be? You know that this is one of the few places you two can get married, don't you? Why else bring you here?" He gestured for them to come inside.
Nemeria shrugged and walked towards the door, that same strange shimmer dancing around the fingertips of her right hand. "You said you brought us here. Why?"
"As bait, mostly." The old hund laughed as he turned his back on her and entered the building, talking as he walked. "But also because I have fond memories of this city. Plus the whole marriage thing. It was owed to you, a chance at a happy ending."
Nemeria looked at Simon and raised an eyebrow.
Simon just shrugged. "He's a friend… I think."
The church was well maintained, if dusty. The windows were not particularly ornate and the altar didn't hold anything worth stealing. Simon tried not to let his hackles rise at the idea of being used as bait. But bait for what? He wondered.
The old hund spun on his heel and faced Simon. "Bait… for a warden." He explained. "A very nasty warden who has quietly been growing their power and influence since the war. A cancer which, if unchecked, will spell the end of this world and all within it. Also he is a threat to my granddaughter, so that means he must die."
"How are you reading my mind?" Simon demanded angrily. It seemed like all he had to do was think of a question and the hund would answer it.
"Because to think of a question when we share a network, dear brother, is to ask it." The old hund replied cryptically. "Your wetware is querying me for information, seeing if I have an answer."
Simon frowned. "I know you… don't I? From before the war? You said we were like half brothers…" He felt a name coming to his lips, but it was as if the memory was fighting him. "Are you Gershwin's son? The pup he brought back from the dead? The reason for all this madness?"
"Yes, I am Kerner. As are many others." The old hund shrugged. "I suppose it is a very common name where I come from. Perhaps more common now."
Simon blinked. "Copies… you and the other hund I spoke with… you're copies of Kerner. The same mind spread out over different bodies." He could see it now, the advanced age made it hard to tell but this wasn't the same hund he had met in virtual.
"Duplicates yes, but not necessarily equals. Not until today." The old hund explained. "Only one of us at a time had the ability to make more, to overwrite wetware at will, to influence the Gravekeeper. But he patched out those vulnerabilities yesterday after Haven fell and the Howl was brought low. Now we are all just regular warhunds. The more recent of our number may revert back to their former selves, others will find a middle ground, and the old ones will most likely remain the same. After all, I have been Kerner for most of my life. I see little reason to change now."
"But how many of you are there?" Simon pressed.
"Many." Kerner said with a shrug. "Though now that I have revealed myself perhaps that number will decrease rapidly." The old hund chuckled, gesturing towards Nemeria. "Your other half will see to that if I am unable to stop him."
Now it was Nemeria's turn to be confused. "You don't mean Simon, do you?"
"No, I do not." The old hund sat down on an old wooden chair, looking up at the bare altar. "The problem with making copies is that the original still remains. I was made when Kerner was murdered by his sister during a training exercise. He jumped out of an airplane and realized half way down that his parachute had been sabotaged. I remember feeling his fear, his desperation, and I remember seeing him hit the ground."
The old hund looked back over his shoulder at her. "You my dear are one possible answer to a question. What does one do when the body does not fit the mind? Either the being must suffer, the body must change, or the mind must change."
The old hund went back to looking at the altar. "It's amazing how paths can split. You went one way, and he went another. You took a form to fit your mind, and he altered his mind to accept his form."
There was a polite knock on the ancient timbers of the open church door as a tall well built man with flaming red hair entered the building.
He looked at Simon and smiled. "Hello, Puppy." He said softly. It was Nemeria's old form, her old identity, the Red Titan, very much alive.
Simon realized now that the dead body he saw in the lab as they were fleeing had been a fake. This was Raul Reyes, in all his glory. A flash of anger rose in Simon as he realized that Raul had tricked him, made him think that he was alone for all these years. What a cruel thing to do to someone that you said you loved. The betrayal of it wrenched at Simon's heart, tearing open old wounds.
Simon reached out and took Nemeria's left hand, squeezing it firmly three times. "I choose you." He said. "I will always choose you. Fuck him, he's dead to me."
Nemeria squeezed back three times. "I have your back, whatever happens."
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submitted by Limp-Investigator964 to u/Limp-Investigator964 [link] [comments]
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"Okay," Sookie called out. "That's a wrap!"
A ragged cheer went up from the cast and crew. Deacon walked around, clapping his hands and cheering loudly, making sure everyone else was cheering, too. Sookie walked over to her chair and sank into it, her feet throbbing in time to the cheering people around her. She smiled at anyone who caught her eye and just relaxed.
This was the end of a grueling, forty-five day shooting schedule that had been supposed to be ten hour days, but had ended up being more like thirteen to eighteen hour days for her. They weren't done filming the season. Far from it, in fact. But these were the worst shots, and the cast and crew involved had all agreed to push through hard until it was done. After this, they had about two more months of shooting on a more normal schedule, and then editing could begin.
Deacon, despite his enthusiasm for the end of the push, had not had to attend most of the shots they got, and had instead, been spending 'quality' time with a couple of local groupies and the White Lady. Sookie didn't begrudge him this, of course. She worried a little about the amount of booger sugar going up his nose at times, but his agent had repeatedly assured her that he was using far more often during shoots than during his off time.
Besides, it was only fitting that the star of the show should enjoy the fruits of his fame. Sookie herself had picked up a bisexual couple a week or two ago, when they had a shoot end 'early' (at nine PM) and the next's day's shoot wasn't scheduled to begin until eight AM. She had left set almost immediately and headed to a local gay bar, where someone had recognized her from her OnlyFans days and insisted upon introducing his boyfriend.
She sighed, remembering the sensation of two well-endowed men thrusting into her, and how she'd simply melted when the one behind her leaned forward and around to kiss the other. Bi men were soooo hawt...
She promised herself she'd try to find another bisexual 'gay' couple, now that she had the time.
Deacon had finally got everyone sufficiently enthusiastic -which was a credit to his charisma, really, as everybody was exhausted- and came over to sit next to her in his own chair.
"I am so ready for a couple weeks off," he said.
"It's one week," Sookie reminded him. "And then you need to be ready for the fight scenes. Have you been working with your choreographer?"
"I haven't really had the time..." Deacon whined, causing Sookie to sigh.
"Deek," she said, sitting up in her chair and turning to face him. "You haven't needed to be on set for the past two weeks. You've been coming to, in your own words, 'help keep morale up'. And while I do appreciate your efforts in that regards, it is far more important for you to be ready to shoot your fight scenes in a week. I'm serious here. You need to get with your choreographer and get your moves nailed down tight. We don't have time to push those shoots back any further."
Deacon held up his hands in surrender. "I'll be down at the dojo tomorrow, I swear."
"Tomorrow morning," Sookie insisted.
"Tomorrow morning," Deacon agreed. "In fact, I'm going to get the playbook and go over it tonight, to try to get a head start."
Sookie smiled and patted him on the knee as she rose. She didn't want to be here anymore. The PAs and crew could finish cleaning everything up so the teardown crews could get started tomorrow.
She found her personal assistant and instructed her to make sure everyone knew to do their own breakdowns, then left. Filming on set had certain advantages, including the fact that she was within walking distance of her hotel.
The security guard that Julie had insisted she maintain since that incident a few years ago with the psycho stan peeled herself off the wall she'd been holding up and fell into step behind her. Sookie wouldn't have minded so much, except Julie had carefully picked married, monogamous men and women to fill her security schedule with, to avoid any 'conflicts of interest'.
This gal, Linda Gottlieb, was probably the worst of all. She had a girlfriend and a boyfriend, and yet refused to sleep with anyone else. On top of that, she was as slender as Sookie, flat chested (which Sookie found to be a major turn on) and hard as a rock, with veiny arms and shoulders and even a few visible on her belly.
Sookie was a woman of many tastes, but skinny girls with visible veins and no tits were one of her more notable favorites, and so Linda's categorical refusal to so much as let Sookie slip a hand down her pants was grating.
Linda wasn't wearing a uniform. She wore a tight tank top and a loose flannel with the sleeves rolled up and the front unbuttoned over a pair of blue jeans and hiking boots. Sookie knew she had a gun on her somewhere, but couldn't speculate as to where.
Well, that's not true. Sookie imagined the handle sticking of her ass, riding up between the cheeks of that ass that all flat-chested women seemed to have that was categorically unfair to better-if-still-modestly endowed women like Sookie. She slowed down to get a peek at it.
"Looking at my ass again?" Linda asked.
"Yes," Sookie said. "I was wondering if you keep your gun there. The handle could fit between those cheeks and nobody would be the wiser."
Linda laughed and lifted her flannel to show a handgun tucked into her belt on her hip. "Sorry to disappoint," she said. "But I kinda need to keep it where I could easily get at it."
Sookie sighed, her pleasant illusion ruined.
They turned left out of the studio gates and walked up the road. Despite the presence of the studio, this was kind of a rough area, so Sookie appreciated having some security as she made the walk. Not that she couldn't handle herself, but she'd learned the hard way that being taken by surprise left her as vulnerable as anyone.
They hadn't gotten more than a half a block before a ragged looking man approached them, reeking of booze and shit. His clothes were filthy and torn and he had a scraggly beard that ranged from a centimeter to three inches long, seemingly at random.
"Spare a dollar?" he asked.
"No," Linda said, stepping forward to catch his attention so Sookie could slip past.
"S'just a dollar, lady. I'll lick your pussy for it!" The man leered at Linda, who didn't blink or flinch, but rather gave him a hard shove back.
"Don't you fucking crowd me, talking shit like that," she said menacingly, taking another step forward to keep him off balance.
"Be respectful," she added with force. The man looked like he wanted to argue, but something in the way she looked or held herself made it clear to him that Linda was not to be trifled with. He stepped back until his back was to the wall of the building behind him and watched as Linda turned and caught back up to Sookie, who was watching the whole thing over her shoulder.
"Fucking Dykes!" the man shouted. "Suck my dick!"
"You'd think that at least one of them would figure out that being aggressive like that doesn't work," Sookie mused.
"It doesn't work on you or me, but that's because we know we could take his head off if he tried to get violent," Linda said. "Most women aren't fighters. They'll give him cash just to get him to stop harassing them."
"Fair enough," Sookie said.
This was a common occurrence. Almost every time Sookie walked to her hotel, at least one homeless person would try to panhandle her. Sometimes, if she had any cash, she'd give them some. Once in a blue moon, one would engender enough sympathy for a good payout, a hundred bucks or so. But most of the time, they struck her as entitled ruffians, living on the street thanks to their own bad decisions and trying to get by on other people's labor.
She knew that was an old-fashioned mindset. She knew a lot of these people would, if they got clean of whatever they were using, sort out their lives and take care of business. She knew that the DCM Group even had a charitable arm who straight up gave condos and large sums of money to many homeless people, who immediately used that gift to get back on their feet. She knew the stats, too.
But this particular area seemed to attract the sort of homeless people whom right-wing motards used as an archetype for all homeless people. Twice, someone from the crew had been assaulted, causing Sookie to declare that she and the stunt coordinator were the only ones allowed to walk to and from the studio.
"I wonder if they're actually even homeless," Linda said, her thoughts echoing Sookie's.
"Me too," Sookie said. "I mean, it's a very poor neighborhood, adjacent to a place where very wealthy people work. There's no rule that says you have to be homeless to panhandle."
Linda nodded. Sookie wondered idly if she'd been following her own logic, or seeking out a belief that made her feel better about judging the people here. She wasn't sure which, really.
The area they moved through got progressively nicer as they continued. They turned the last corner, with three blocks still to go when Sookie saw the next one.
This one was older. he only had about a week's worth of beard on his face, though Sookie could see that it was mostly gray. He wore similar clothes to the other one, the once-vibrant colors having long since faded towards a muted gray tone. His clothes, however, looked cleaner and the holes had all been neatly stitched. As they drew close, Sookie could read his sign.
Please help Leave a dollar or take a resume Will work for food
Sure enough, he had a stack of resumes weighted down with a rock next to him. Sookie stopped, intrigued and bent down to retrieve one. She handed the man a folded ten dollar bill at the same time. A reward for creativity in his panhandling, she thought.
She looked at it. The man had a pair of enlistments in the Marine Corps at the top of his work experience. It was back in the early 2000s, and it mentioned Helmand Province, which Sookie recalled had been at the center of a lot of the fighting in Afghanistan.
The next few lines were security companies, starting with a high-end competitor to the Group, and then a long sequence of construction and day-labor work, ending on his current work, which was "Self Employed - Private Investigations". Below that, he had a string of qualifications, including armed security, close protection and bail enforcement.
"This is actually quite a good resume," Sookie told him. She glanced up at the top to get his name, Richard Nixon.
"Richard Nixon?" Sookie asked. "Like the president?"
Richard nodded. "I'll work," he said hopefully. "I can swing a hammer and do plumbing. I'll do a full day's work for lunch and dinner, or a hundred bucks, whichever you prefer."
Sookie handed the resume to Linda, who looked down at it.
"Ain't much different than mine," she said. "Oorah."
"Oorah," Richard muttered back, seemingly on pure instinct.
"So why are you out here, Richard?" Sookie asked. "Your resume says you're self-employed as a private eye."
Richard shrugged. Sookie noted the redness and swelling of his nose. "Work's been scarce," he said. "Been getting fewer jobs for the last few years. Fewer jobs means less money, less money means losing my office, not being able to afford nice clothes, which leads to fewer jobs."
Sookie looked a question at Linda, who shrugged. "We're always looking for investigators. It can be hard to recruit former cops, and those we do are often old enough not to stay on for more than a few years before retiring."
Sookie smiled and nodded, turning back to Richard. "You want an interview?"
"Hell yeah," he said with some enthusiasm. "As long as they don't mind me looking a little rough around the edges."
"Where do you live?" Sookie asked. Richard gestured around. "Lost my apartment last month," he said. Sookie pursed her lips and then nodded and held out a hand to him.
"Come on, Richard. I'm Sookie, and this is Linda. I'll make you a deal. I'll get you a nice outfit to wear and arrange an interview at the LA office tomorrow. I'll put you up on my couch for the night, too. That way, you can shower and shave and look presentable for it. What do you think?"
Richard took her hand and let her help him up. "Are you serious?" he asked. Sookie nodded.
"Holy crap, thank you, lady. Sookie, I mean. Thank you." His eyes began to get watery. "I don't... I don't even know what to say. That would be amazing."
Sookie smiled, her heart wrenching for the guy. She knew he had a drinking problem, but she also remembered all those people the Group's charities helped. Get someone on their feet, and there was a good chance they'd stay there.
"Do you have stuff to get?"
"I uh... I have a storage shed. It's paid up through the end of the year," he said. "My stuff is safe there, I just need to go get my toiletries."
"Don't worry about that," Sookie said, stepping to the edge of the sidewalk and waiting for the traffic to clear enough to cross the road. "We can stop by a drug store, too."
----
Sookie and Linda took Richard shopping and got him everything he needed. Which wasn't much, really. Sookie had a spare toothbrush, razors, shaving cream and cologne at her hotel room. It was all stuff she kept on hand to be the best slut she could be, and make her dishes du jour feel welcome. They bought him deodorant and an electric beard trimmer, and decided to take a pit stop at a hair and nails salon next to the pharmacy.
The girls there had cooed and gooed over Sookie and Linda helping this man out, and refused to accept any money for the trim he got. Unfortunately, they weren't set up to shave a man (all of the other clients inside were women), but Richard protested that he was perfectly capable of shaving himself, so it all worked out.
The next stop was, at Sookie's insistence, one of the ultra-high-end men's clothing stores near her hotel. Linda had protested that simply taking a car to Walmart would be good enough, but Sookie would have none of that.
"Linda, it's been over six years since I've seen a person in Walmart that I'd be willing to give a handy to. It's been even longer since I've seen any clothing there that looked like it didn't come from Walmart, especially the suits. We're not going to Walmart."
As a result, Richard got fitted for a custom-tailored suit and outfitted with a tie that was a pleasant, deep blue, bespeckled with tiny, gold-embroidered Marine Corps logos. He seemed pleased with it, and had to keep wiping his eyes as he repeatedly and profusely thanked her.
When all was done, they finally went to the hotel. Sookie had a full suite on the top floor. It wasn't the biggest suite, but it was close, with two spare bedrooms, a living room and a full kitchen, in addition to a balcony that afforded her a great view of the city (so long as the smog wasn't too bad) and a private elevator to the rooftop pool.
Linda took her usual spot at the door to await her relief for the evening while Sookie showed Richard the large bathroom and made sure he had everything he needed. While he showered and shaved, she decided to review the script.
She walked over to the safe in the living room and carefully punched in her combination on the keypad.
The scripts for The Legend of Jimmy were like solid gold. Every studio out there wanted to get their hands on one, to steal ideas from. Every fan wanted to get one, just for the thrill of knowing what was going to happen next. During the second season's filming, they'd had multiple scripts stolen and leaked, and Sookie had learned to crack down on that. As a result, she was the only one who ever had a full set of scripts for any given season. She kept them safely under lock and key at all times.
She pulled out her working copy, which was different from the 'archive' copy she also kept in the safe. The working copy had all of her handwritten notes on it. She closed the safe back up and locked it, then sat down at the table and flipped open to the scenes they would be filming after the break. Using a red pen, she made notes for herself, things to remember during shooting, like camera angles and notes on the VFX.
She heard the shower turn off, but she was engrossed in her work when the door opened.
"Thanks again," Richard said, causing her to look up. He had a towel around his waist, but Sookie noted that he had a lean torso, with some muscle still there, despite a rough life. Clean shaven now, he looked much better. He'd never get a gig as a model, but he was handsome enough in his own way. Sookie smiled at him.
"You don't have to keep thanking me," she said. "I'm happy to help."
She closed her script and stood, walking it over to the safe. Obscuring her hands with her body, she punched in the code again and placed the script inside. She hadn't yet closed the door when she heard Richard mutter "Oh shit."
She turned to look and froze. He'd turned back towards the bathroom, and then dropped his towel by accident. He was currently in the process of picking it up, affording Sookie a great view of his ass and what might well have been considered a third leg hanging from between the other two.
It came almost to his knees.
A flush of heat went through her, washing away all thoughts of largess and generosity, and kindling a very selfish desire. She heard the spattering on the hardwood floor where she crouched as her usual over-the-top wetness kicked into high gear and soaked through her pants in seconds. She could feel herself throbbing as she eyed Richard's enormous member.
Her disguise slipped and the horns erupted from her head, her tail curled up painfully inside her pants and her skin turned red, with large patches of scales. Operating purely on instinct, she magicked up a veil of mundanity. She didn't want Richard to freak out, and this would keep him from registering her appearance as anything out of the ordinary.
He retrieved his towel and made to wrap it back around his waist, but Sookie shot to her feet and spun, already ripping her shirt off.
"Wait," she said. Richard froze, then turned to look at her over one shoulder. She tossed her shirt on the couch and peeled off her pants. She wasn't wearing any underwear or bra, of course. She never did.
"I just thought of a way you could thank me," she purred, taking a languid step forward. Richard reacted immediately to the sight of her naked, turning, his hog's leg stiffening and rising from its vertical hang slightly.
"Are you, uh... I mean... I'm not..." Richard stammered. Sookie stepped closer to him and put her hands on his shoulder, then ran them down his chest.
"I am damn sure I want to do this, if that's what you're asking," she said, her hands reaching lower as she stepped close enough to press her breasts into his ribs. She took hold of him and felt him grow almost immediately rock hard as he gasped.
"Wow," he said. "This is... This is like something from a porno with a bad script..." he said.
"Uh huh," Sookie said. "And we're about to do the fun parts of it." She pressed her lips into his, and then squealed in delight as he grabbed her by the ass and hoisted her up.
"Where?" he asked into her mouth.
"Pussy, mouth and ass," she replied. She felt the heat rush through his cheeks.
"I meant where in this room," he said.
"I don't fucking care," Sookie responded, lining his huge cock up with her most convenient hole and squirming down onto it with a loud gasp.
"In the bedroom!" Linda shouted. "Please, for the love of god, in the bedroom!"
----
Sookie awoke the next morning and rolled over to see if Richard was up for a little wake-and-shake. Her hands slapped the empty bed and she pouted.
"Richard?" she called, a wonderful aroma meeting her nose as she did. "Are you making coffee already? I'll fall in love with you, or deepthroat you, your choice, if you are!"
He didn't answer.
She opened her eyes and saw that his new suit was missing. An empty hanger was hooked to the coathanger next to the closet. She climbed out of bed, frowning, and walked out into the living room.
It was empty. She could smell the coffee even stronger, and she walked into the kitchen to find the coffee pot full and a business card sitting next to it. She picked it up and peered at it with sleep-bleary eyes.
"Eric Stephens, Private Investigations, Corporate Espionage, Bail Bonds, Security Consultation," she read out loud. There was a QR code on it, so she picked up her phone from where it had been flung to the floor last night and scanned it. While the page loaded, she glanced in the bathroom to see Richard's old clothes still piled there.
She glanced at her phone to see a very clean-shaven and well-dressed Richard smiling at the camera at the top of a very tastefully designed web page. She scrolled through it for a moment, confused. This was clearly him, but why had he given her a fake name? She supposed he could have had this nice website built back when he was still working enough to afford it, but... It seemed off. It didn't fit. Sookie didn't get it.
That was, until she looked to her own pile of clothes by the safe and saw the door still hanging open. With a gasp, she rushed over only to find the safe empty. Both of her scripts were gone!
"Shit!" she shouted.
The door opened and a large, muscular man dressed like a lawyer rushed in, a gun in hand.
"Miss Ohma, is everything all right?" he asked after scanning the room and peering through the open doors.
"No," Sookie wailed. "I just got my scripts stolen!"
"The gentleman who left this morning?" her guard asked. She nodded. "I'm so sorry, Miss Ohma. I would have stopped him if I knew."
"No, you did fine," Sookie said as her eyes filled with frustrated tears. "You're used to men heading out in the morning. Usually they do it after I wake up and we can get another good fuck in, but still... You didn't do anything wrong."
"He left a note," the guard said. "I saw it taped to the inside of the door." Sookie looked over and saw a folded piece of paper taped there. She stalked over and ripped it down, sniffling angrily and wiping at her eyes to read it.
"Motherfucker!" she shouted. The guard winced, but said nothing.
"He scammed me," Sookie said. "Got a nice new suit out of me, seduced me with that redwood growing between his legs and then ran off with my fucking scripts!"
She let her claws form and dug them into her thighs, carving bloody furrows that healed almost as fast as she made them. The guard started and rushed over.
"Ma'am, please," he said. "I'm not supposed to let you hurt yourself."
Sookie let him pull her hands up to her chest. She leaned into him for a moment. "You're married, aren't you?" she said.
"Uh, no," he said. Sookie turned her head to regard him. She didn't recognize him. "What's your name?"
"Devin, Ma'am," he said. "Devin Iglesias. This is my first shift on your detail."
"Who put you on this shift?"
"Uhh, Missus Williams. She said I'd enjoy this detail, and I agreed. I'm a huge fan of your show, Miss Ohma."
"Are you gay?" Sookie asked. Devin blinked. "Uh, no, Ma'am."
Sookie smiled. "I need you to do two things," she said.
"The second, and most important thing, I need you to call the office and ask for any information they have on a private investigator named Eric Stephens who works out of LA."
Devin nodded. "Yes, ma'am. And the first thing?"
Sookie smiled wider. "I need you to find out the real reason why Inanna thought you'd enjoy this posting."
submitted by MjolnirPants to JerryandtheGoddesses [link] [comments]
A ragged cheer went up from the cast and crew. Deacon walked around, clapping his hands and cheering loudly, making sure everyone else was cheering, too. Sookie walked over to her chair and sank into it, her feet throbbing in time to the cheering people around her. She smiled at anyone who caught her eye and just relaxed.
This was the end of a grueling, forty-five day shooting schedule that had been supposed to be ten hour days, but had ended up being more like thirteen to eighteen hour days for her. They weren't done filming the season. Far from it, in fact. But these were the worst shots, and the cast and crew involved had all agreed to push through hard until it was done. After this, they had about two more months of shooting on a more normal schedule, and then editing could begin.
Deacon, despite his enthusiasm for the end of the push, had not had to attend most of the shots they got, and had instead, been spending 'quality' time with a couple of local groupies and the White Lady. Sookie didn't begrudge him this, of course. She worried a little about the amount of booger sugar going up his nose at times, but his agent had repeatedly assured her that he was using far more often during shoots than during his off time.
Besides, it was only fitting that the star of the show should enjoy the fruits of his fame. Sookie herself had picked up a bisexual couple a week or two ago, when they had a shoot end 'early' (at nine PM) and the next's day's shoot wasn't scheduled to begin until eight AM. She had left set almost immediately and headed to a local gay bar, where someone had recognized her from her OnlyFans days and insisted upon introducing his boyfriend.
She sighed, remembering the sensation of two well-endowed men thrusting into her, and how she'd simply melted when the one behind her leaned forward and around to kiss the other. Bi men were soooo hawt...
She promised herself she'd try to find another bisexual 'gay' couple, now that she had the time.
Deacon had finally got everyone sufficiently enthusiastic -which was a credit to his charisma, really, as everybody was exhausted- and came over to sit next to her in his own chair.
"I am so ready for a couple weeks off," he said.
"It's one week," Sookie reminded him. "And then you need to be ready for the fight scenes. Have you been working with your choreographer?"
"I haven't really had the time..." Deacon whined, causing Sookie to sigh.
"Deek," she said, sitting up in her chair and turning to face him. "You haven't needed to be on set for the past two weeks. You've been coming to, in your own words, 'help keep morale up'. And while I do appreciate your efforts in that regards, it is far more important for you to be ready to shoot your fight scenes in a week. I'm serious here. You need to get with your choreographer and get your moves nailed down tight. We don't have time to push those shoots back any further."
Deacon held up his hands in surrender. "I'll be down at the dojo tomorrow, I swear."
"Tomorrow morning," Sookie insisted.
"Tomorrow morning," Deacon agreed. "In fact, I'm going to get the playbook and go over it tonight, to try to get a head start."
Sookie smiled and patted him on the knee as she rose. She didn't want to be here anymore. The PAs and crew could finish cleaning everything up so the teardown crews could get started tomorrow.
She found her personal assistant and instructed her to make sure everyone knew to do their own breakdowns, then left. Filming on set had certain advantages, including the fact that she was within walking distance of her hotel.
The security guard that Julie had insisted she maintain since that incident a few years ago with the psycho stan peeled herself off the wall she'd been holding up and fell into step behind her. Sookie wouldn't have minded so much, except Julie had carefully picked married, monogamous men and women to fill her security schedule with, to avoid any 'conflicts of interest'.
This gal, Linda Gottlieb, was probably the worst of all. She had a girlfriend and a boyfriend, and yet refused to sleep with anyone else. On top of that, she was as slender as Sookie, flat chested (which Sookie found to be a major turn on) and hard as a rock, with veiny arms and shoulders and even a few visible on her belly.
Sookie was a woman of many tastes, but skinny girls with visible veins and no tits were one of her more notable favorites, and so Linda's categorical refusal to so much as let Sookie slip a hand down her pants was grating.
Linda wasn't wearing a uniform. She wore a tight tank top and a loose flannel with the sleeves rolled up and the front unbuttoned over a pair of blue jeans and hiking boots. Sookie knew she had a gun on her somewhere, but couldn't speculate as to where.
Well, that's not true. Sookie imagined the handle sticking of her ass, riding up between the cheeks of that ass that all flat-chested women seemed to have that was categorically unfair to better-if-still-modestly endowed women like Sookie. She slowed down to get a peek at it.
"Looking at my ass again?" Linda asked.
"Yes," Sookie said. "I was wondering if you keep your gun there. The handle could fit between those cheeks and nobody would be the wiser."
Linda laughed and lifted her flannel to show a handgun tucked into her belt on her hip. "Sorry to disappoint," she said. "But I kinda need to keep it where I could easily get at it."
Sookie sighed, her pleasant illusion ruined.
They turned left out of the studio gates and walked up the road. Despite the presence of the studio, this was kind of a rough area, so Sookie appreciated having some security as she made the walk. Not that she couldn't handle herself, but she'd learned the hard way that being taken by surprise left her as vulnerable as anyone.
They hadn't gotten more than a half a block before a ragged looking man approached them, reeking of booze and shit. His clothes were filthy and torn and he had a scraggly beard that ranged from a centimeter to three inches long, seemingly at random.
"Spare a dollar?" he asked.
"No," Linda said, stepping forward to catch his attention so Sookie could slip past.
"S'just a dollar, lady. I'll lick your pussy for it!" The man leered at Linda, who didn't blink or flinch, but rather gave him a hard shove back.
"Don't you fucking crowd me, talking shit like that," she said menacingly, taking another step forward to keep him off balance.
"Be respectful," she added with force. The man looked like he wanted to argue, but something in the way she looked or held herself made it clear to him that Linda was not to be trifled with. He stepped back until his back was to the wall of the building behind him and watched as Linda turned and caught back up to Sookie, who was watching the whole thing over her shoulder.
"Fucking Dykes!" the man shouted. "Suck my dick!"
"You'd think that at least one of them would figure out that being aggressive like that doesn't work," Sookie mused.
"It doesn't work on you or me, but that's because we know we could take his head off if he tried to get violent," Linda said. "Most women aren't fighters. They'll give him cash just to get him to stop harassing them."
"Fair enough," Sookie said.
This was a common occurrence. Almost every time Sookie walked to her hotel, at least one homeless person would try to panhandle her. Sometimes, if she had any cash, she'd give them some. Once in a blue moon, one would engender enough sympathy for a good payout, a hundred bucks or so. But most of the time, they struck her as entitled ruffians, living on the street thanks to their own bad decisions and trying to get by on other people's labor.
She knew that was an old-fashioned mindset. She knew a lot of these people would, if they got clean of whatever they were using, sort out their lives and take care of business. She knew that the DCM Group even had a charitable arm who straight up gave condos and large sums of money to many homeless people, who immediately used that gift to get back on their feet. She knew the stats, too.
But this particular area seemed to attract the sort of homeless people whom right-wing motards used as an archetype for all homeless people. Twice, someone from the crew had been assaulted, causing Sookie to declare that she and the stunt coordinator were the only ones allowed to walk to and from the studio.
"I wonder if they're actually even homeless," Linda said, her thoughts echoing Sookie's.
"Me too," Sookie said. "I mean, it's a very poor neighborhood, adjacent to a place where very wealthy people work. There's no rule that says you have to be homeless to panhandle."
Linda nodded. Sookie wondered idly if she'd been following her own logic, or seeking out a belief that made her feel better about judging the people here. She wasn't sure which, really.
The area they moved through got progressively nicer as they continued. They turned the last corner, with three blocks still to go when Sookie saw the next one.
This one was older. he only had about a week's worth of beard on his face, though Sookie could see that it was mostly gray. He wore similar clothes to the other one, the once-vibrant colors having long since faded towards a muted gray tone. His clothes, however, looked cleaner and the holes had all been neatly stitched. As they drew close, Sookie could read his sign.
Please help Leave a dollar or take a resume Will work for food
Sure enough, he had a stack of resumes weighted down with a rock next to him. Sookie stopped, intrigued and bent down to retrieve one. She handed the man a folded ten dollar bill at the same time. A reward for creativity in his panhandling, she thought.
She looked at it. The man had a pair of enlistments in the Marine Corps at the top of his work experience. It was back in the early 2000s, and it mentioned Helmand Province, which Sookie recalled had been at the center of a lot of the fighting in Afghanistan.
The next few lines were security companies, starting with a high-end competitor to the Group, and then a long sequence of construction and day-labor work, ending on his current work, which was "Self Employed - Private Investigations". Below that, he had a string of qualifications, including armed security, close protection and bail enforcement.
"This is actually quite a good resume," Sookie told him. She glanced up at the top to get his name, Richard Nixon.
"Richard Nixon?" Sookie asked. "Like the president?"
Richard nodded. "I'll work," he said hopefully. "I can swing a hammer and do plumbing. I'll do a full day's work for lunch and dinner, or a hundred bucks, whichever you prefer."
Sookie handed the resume to Linda, who looked down at it.
"Ain't much different than mine," she said. "Oorah."
"Oorah," Richard muttered back, seemingly on pure instinct.
"So why are you out here, Richard?" Sookie asked. "Your resume says you're self-employed as a private eye."
Richard shrugged. Sookie noted the redness and swelling of his nose. "Work's been scarce," he said. "Been getting fewer jobs for the last few years. Fewer jobs means less money, less money means losing my office, not being able to afford nice clothes, which leads to fewer jobs."
Sookie looked a question at Linda, who shrugged. "We're always looking for investigators. It can be hard to recruit former cops, and those we do are often old enough not to stay on for more than a few years before retiring."
Sookie smiled and nodded, turning back to Richard. "You want an interview?"
"Hell yeah," he said with some enthusiasm. "As long as they don't mind me looking a little rough around the edges."
"Where do you live?" Sookie asked. Richard gestured around. "Lost my apartment last month," he said. Sookie pursed her lips and then nodded and held out a hand to him.
"Come on, Richard. I'm Sookie, and this is Linda. I'll make you a deal. I'll get you a nice outfit to wear and arrange an interview at the LA office tomorrow. I'll put you up on my couch for the night, too. That way, you can shower and shave and look presentable for it. What do you think?"
Richard took her hand and let her help him up. "Are you serious?" he asked. Sookie nodded.
"Holy crap, thank you, lady. Sookie, I mean. Thank you." His eyes began to get watery. "I don't... I don't even know what to say. That would be amazing."
Sookie smiled, her heart wrenching for the guy. She knew he had a drinking problem, but she also remembered all those people the Group's charities helped. Get someone on their feet, and there was a good chance they'd stay there.
"Do you have stuff to get?"
"I uh... I have a storage shed. It's paid up through the end of the year," he said. "My stuff is safe there, I just need to go get my toiletries."
"Don't worry about that," Sookie said, stepping to the edge of the sidewalk and waiting for the traffic to clear enough to cross the road. "We can stop by a drug store, too."
----
Sookie and Linda took Richard shopping and got him everything he needed. Which wasn't much, really. Sookie had a spare toothbrush, razors, shaving cream and cologne at her hotel room. It was all stuff she kept on hand to be the best slut she could be, and make her dishes du jour feel welcome. They bought him deodorant and an electric beard trimmer, and decided to take a pit stop at a hair and nails salon next to the pharmacy.
The girls there had cooed and gooed over Sookie and Linda helping this man out, and refused to accept any money for the trim he got. Unfortunately, they weren't set up to shave a man (all of the other clients inside were women), but Richard protested that he was perfectly capable of shaving himself, so it all worked out.
The next stop was, at Sookie's insistence, one of the ultra-high-end men's clothing stores near her hotel. Linda had protested that simply taking a car to Walmart would be good enough, but Sookie would have none of that.
"Linda, it's been over six years since I've seen a person in Walmart that I'd be willing to give a handy to. It's been even longer since I've seen any clothing there that looked like it didn't come from Walmart, especially the suits. We're not going to Walmart."
As a result, Richard got fitted for a custom-tailored suit and outfitted with a tie that was a pleasant, deep blue, bespeckled with tiny, gold-embroidered Marine Corps logos. He seemed pleased with it, and had to keep wiping his eyes as he repeatedly and profusely thanked her.
When all was done, they finally went to the hotel. Sookie had a full suite on the top floor. It wasn't the biggest suite, but it was close, with two spare bedrooms, a living room and a full kitchen, in addition to a balcony that afforded her a great view of the city (so long as the smog wasn't too bad) and a private elevator to the rooftop pool.
Linda took her usual spot at the door to await her relief for the evening while Sookie showed Richard the large bathroom and made sure he had everything he needed. While he showered and shaved, she decided to review the script.
She walked over to the safe in the living room and carefully punched in her combination on the keypad.
The scripts for The Legend of Jimmy were like solid gold. Every studio out there wanted to get their hands on one, to steal ideas from. Every fan wanted to get one, just for the thrill of knowing what was going to happen next. During the second season's filming, they'd had multiple scripts stolen and leaked, and Sookie had learned to crack down on that. As a result, she was the only one who ever had a full set of scripts for any given season. She kept them safely under lock and key at all times.
She pulled out her working copy, which was different from the 'archive' copy she also kept in the safe. The working copy had all of her handwritten notes on it. She closed the safe back up and locked it, then sat down at the table and flipped open to the scenes they would be filming after the break. Using a red pen, she made notes for herself, things to remember during shooting, like camera angles and notes on the VFX.
She heard the shower turn off, but she was engrossed in her work when the door opened.
"Thanks again," Richard said, causing her to look up. He had a towel around his waist, but Sookie noted that he had a lean torso, with some muscle still there, despite a rough life. Clean shaven now, he looked much better. He'd never get a gig as a model, but he was handsome enough in his own way. Sookie smiled at him.
"You don't have to keep thanking me," she said. "I'm happy to help."
She closed her script and stood, walking it over to the safe. Obscuring her hands with her body, she punched in the code again and placed the script inside. She hadn't yet closed the door when she heard Richard mutter "Oh shit."
She turned to look and froze. He'd turned back towards the bathroom, and then dropped his towel by accident. He was currently in the process of picking it up, affording Sookie a great view of his ass and what might well have been considered a third leg hanging from between the other two.
It came almost to his knees.
A flush of heat went through her, washing away all thoughts of largess and generosity, and kindling a very selfish desire. She heard the spattering on the hardwood floor where she crouched as her usual over-the-top wetness kicked into high gear and soaked through her pants in seconds. She could feel herself throbbing as she eyed Richard's enormous member.
Her disguise slipped and the horns erupted from her head, her tail curled up painfully inside her pants and her skin turned red, with large patches of scales. Operating purely on instinct, she magicked up a veil of mundanity. She didn't want Richard to freak out, and this would keep him from registering her appearance as anything out of the ordinary.
He retrieved his towel and made to wrap it back around his waist, but Sookie shot to her feet and spun, already ripping her shirt off.
"Wait," she said. Richard froze, then turned to look at her over one shoulder. She tossed her shirt on the couch and peeled off her pants. She wasn't wearing any underwear or bra, of course. She never did.
"I just thought of a way you could thank me," she purred, taking a languid step forward. Richard reacted immediately to the sight of her naked, turning, his hog's leg stiffening and rising from its vertical hang slightly.
"Are you, uh... I mean... I'm not..." Richard stammered. Sookie stepped closer to him and put her hands on his shoulder, then ran them down his chest.
"I am damn sure I want to do this, if that's what you're asking," she said, her hands reaching lower as she stepped close enough to press her breasts into his ribs. She took hold of him and felt him grow almost immediately rock hard as he gasped.
"Wow," he said. "This is... This is like something from a porno with a bad script..." he said.
"Uh huh," Sookie said. "And we're about to do the fun parts of it." She pressed her lips into his, and then squealed in delight as he grabbed her by the ass and hoisted her up.
"Where?" he asked into her mouth.
"Pussy, mouth and ass," she replied. She felt the heat rush through his cheeks.
"I meant where in this room," he said.
"I don't fucking care," Sookie responded, lining his huge cock up with her most convenient hole and squirming down onto it with a loud gasp.
"In the bedroom!" Linda shouted. "Please, for the love of god, in the bedroom!"
----
Sookie awoke the next morning and rolled over to see if Richard was up for a little wake-and-shake. Her hands slapped the empty bed and she pouted.
"Richard?" she called, a wonderful aroma meeting her nose as she did. "Are you making coffee already? I'll fall in love with you, or deepthroat you, your choice, if you are!"
He didn't answer.
She opened her eyes and saw that his new suit was missing. An empty hanger was hooked to the coathanger next to the closet. She climbed out of bed, frowning, and walked out into the living room.
It was empty. She could smell the coffee even stronger, and she walked into the kitchen to find the coffee pot full and a business card sitting next to it. She picked it up and peered at it with sleep-bleary eyes.
"Eric Stephens, Private Investigations, Corporate Espionage, Bail Bonds, Security Consultation," she read out loud. There was a QR code on it, so she picked up her phone from where it had been flung to the floor last night and scanned it. While the page loaded, she glanced in the bathroom to see Richard's old clothes still piled there.
She glanced at her phone to see a very clean-shaven and well-dressed Richard smiling at the camera at the top of a very tastefully designed web page. She scrolled through it for a moment, confused. This was clearly him, but why had he given her a fake name? She supposed he could have had this nice website built back when he was still working enough to afford it, but... It seemed off. It didn't fit. Sookie didn't get it.
That was, until she looked to her own pile of clothes by the safe and saw the door still hanging open. With a gasp, she rushed over only to find the safe empty. Both of her scripts were gone!
"Shit!" she shouted.
The door opened and a large, muscular man dressed like a lawyer rushed in, a gun in hand.
"Miss Ohma, is everything all right?" he asked after scanning the room and peering through the open doors.
"No," Sookie wailed. "I just got my scripts stolen!"
"The gentleman who left this morning?" her guard asked. She nodded. "I'm so sorry, Miss Ohma. I would have stopped him if I knew."
"No, you did fine," Sookie said as her eyes filled with frustrated tears. "You're used to men heading out in the morning. Usually they do it after I wake up and we can get another good fuck in, but still... You didn't do anything wrong."
"He left a note," the guard said. "I saw it taped to the inside of the door." Sookie looked over and saw a folded piece of paper taped there. She stalked over and ripped it down, sniffling angrily and wiping at her eyes to read it.
Dear Sookie, Last night was probably the best night I've had in my life. It's certainly the best night I can remember. If you ever want to do it again, just let me know. I left you a card by the coffee machine, and there's a full pot for you, as well. If you don't ever want to see me again, well, I guess I understand. I'm sorry to have left the way I did, but I'm a man of my word, and my client was willing to pay a lot of money for that script. I hope this doesn't hurt you too much. For what it's worth, I'm sorry if I upset you. Wishing you all the best, EricSookie crumbled up the paper and angrily threw it across the room.
"Motherfucker!" she shouted. The guard winced, but said nothing.
"He scammed me," Sookie said. "Got a nice new suit out of me, seduced me with that redwood growing between his legs and then ran off with my fucking scripts!"
She let her claws form and dug them into her thighs, carving bloody furrows that healed almost as fast as she made them. The guard started and rushed over.
"Ma'am, please," he said. "I'm not supposed to let you hurt yourself."
Sookie let him pull her hands up to her chest. She leaned into him for a moment. "You're married, aren't you?" she said.
"Uh, no," he said. Sookie turned her head to regard him. She didn't recognize him. "What's your name?"
"Devin, Ma'am," he said. "Devin Iglesias. This is my first shift on your detail."
"Who put you on this shift?"
"Uhh, Missus Williams. She said I'd enjoy this detail, and I agreed. I'm a huge fan of your show, Miss Ohma."
"Are you gay?" Sookie asked. Devin blinked. "Uh, no, Ma'am."
Sookie smiled. "I need you to do two things," she said.
"The second, and most important thing, I need you to call the office and ask for any information they have on a private investigator named Eric Stephens who works out of LA."
Devin nodded. "Yes, ma'am. And the first thing?"
Sookie smiled wider. "I need you to find out the real reason why Inanna thought you'd enjoy this posting."
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2023.05.30 18:58 MommyHonkerDonkers My Copilot Is A Neckbeard #45
Hey there ReddX gang, it looks like I finally got a bit of time to write, so let’s not delay any longer and get into another story about Chris.
Who is Chris? Chris is a very fat and sweaty man surrounded by an impenetrable aura of poopycum stinkystank. He is a grotesque goblin content to dwell in his own personal dark triad of meth, anime, and lot lizards. Chris and I both used to work for a trucking company – a major one – and him and I would take turns driving our big rig down the road. Things were usually okay when Chris was driving, but when Chris’s shift would come to an end, or worse yet, when we would pull over for the night, Chris would find himself free to do Chris things. You know the things. Then, despite my best efforts to make him bathe and behave, it was all in vain, and we would descend just a little bit further into madness. Thankfully, I no longer have to ride with Chris.
Last installment we were introduced to Christina. Do you not know who Christina is? Well, maybe you should go and look up that last post, or better yet, go and listen to the narration of it as done by our good pal ReddX. Christina really was the feminine counterpart to the poopycum man. Well, after some sly maneuvering, I managed to escape the clutches of this wily bovine.
Now, I woke up the following morning to find both truck doors still locked and I thanked myself that my comfortable sanctuary had not been breached in the night by the poopycum people. I looked at my clock and realized that we were getting a bit late in the morning and that we needed to get on the road. Begrudgingly, I got out of bed, put on my shoes, and went out into the travel plaza to locate the gruesome twosome. I didn’t have to go far. I found Chris and his sister outside of the convenience store, wolfing down microwaved carbs, grease, and high fructose corn syrup like they a couple pigs in a trough. I came up, Chris dismissively remarking hey, and Christina replying with a sultry “good morning honker donkers” which I ignored. I turned to Chris, pretending his sister didn’t exist, and said, “we gotta get on the road, dude. Are you ready?” He shoved half a hot dog down into his mouth as if to deep throat the thing and said, “yeah, let’s go. Come on Christina.”
We all got back to the truck and I jumped in the passenger seat first that morning, taking us out of our parking space and further down the road. I figured I’d get my drive time out of the way first so that I could make my money without having to fight with Chris, and alternatively, if Christina drove the afternoon, I could spend it in relative peace without fear of molestation. Of course, that first shift was hell. Christina was still in heat – swampy, musky heat – and kept trying to coo her way into giving me road head. Thankfully, Chris was still the same scum that he was from yesterday and made things too awkward even for the beast beside me for her to make her moves. Every time she got a little too close to me, I’d find some way to rouse Chris’s attention and he would fluster her with his incestuous masturbatory desires.
When my shift finally came to an end, I got up and headed to the back to relax in my bunk while Chris and Christina fought over the driver’s seat. Chris shouted, “dude! I haven’t drove at all this whole trip! I need to make money so I can get some new figures for my army. Get up Christina,” to which Christina replied, “shove it. Just ask dad for some money. I wanna drive the truck.” Well, Chris wasn’t having it. I guess dad had been cutting him off as of late and gave the landwhale a hard shove, sending her careening into the side of the truck, causing the whole rig to rock back and forth. She came back and lunged at Chris and they started throwing blows at each other. I didn’t intervene, of course. I sincerely doubted either of them had the required upper body strength to actually injure the other. No, I let them get tired. Christina gave up first and said, “fine! Drive the damn truck! I’ll just go hang out with honker donkers.” At this, my ears perked up, I got up from my bunk, and plopped down in the passenger seat – a place only big enough for one person mind you – and Christina cast me a sour look. She knew I didn’t want to be anywhere near her, but that didn’t seem to stop her from still trying to put on the moves. With a dejected sigh, she waddled towards the back, and I screamed, “you better not lay down on my bunk,” and she said, “fuck you, I’m not going to lay in your bed.” Chris did his pre-drive checklist before casting a glance over to me, mumbling, “women, am I right or what, bro,” before putting his phone on the dongle and pressing play. We pulled onto the road to the throaty cries of “nani? Baka!”
As we drove, I did my best to ignore the people about me, grateful that I was safe with Chris driving the truck. I descended into my book as best I could while the poopycum man took us down the road. I was doing a good job pretending I wasn’t there, of course, but it certainly didn’t last forever. Somewhere around the hour mark, however, a symphony of squeaking bedsprings arrested my attention. Chris even looked away from his podcast for a minute and locked eyes with me, and we exchanged a what the fuck moment. Cautiously, I looked over my shoulder towards the back of the cab.
The ham planet had made herself comfortable in my bed, alright. Too comfortable. Her languid, throaty breaths punctuated the awkward scene before me. Her swollen red ass was firmly planted on my bed and she sat there, one hand lifting up her sagging belly, the other fondling her yawning crevasse. She smiled coyly as she saw that I had turned around and motioned for me to approach, but I did not dare to do so. I recoiled in absolute disgust, letting out a “what the Hell are you doing?” Chris swerved a bit at my outburst but managed to stay on the road. My disgust only elevated exponentially when I saw that the hand that touched her rancid cooch held something in it. “What the fuck is that?”
She smiled wryly as she held up a dirty old sock, and I practically gagged. She replied, “Even if you don’t come here inside me, I’ve got your come inside me.” I dry-heaved for a moment as Chris said, “what the Hell is going on back there?” Pale as a ghost, I mumbled, “dude, she’s masturbating with an old sock.” Chris swerved again. “Oh fuck. Christina, where did you get that sock?”
Things got real quiet real fast. Christina mumbled, “I got it off of honker donker’s laundry hamper. I can tell he must have been thinking about me when he used it.” I shuddered. I don’t beat off into socks in the back of the truck cab, and even if I had done it, I certainly hadn’t done it today. Whatever hypothetical cum sock she had found would have been long dried up from the night before if I had made one. No, somebody else’s cum was on that sock. She smiled wryly as she lifted it up and played with a sticky strand of goo that adhered to the fabric before pulling her fingers down to her snatch and I gagged.
“Christina,” I said slowly, “that isn’t my sock.” She retorted, “don’t lie, it was on your hamper,” and I practically yelled at Chris “why are you throwing your cum socks in my laundry basket, bro?” Chris said, “I didn’t throw a cum sock in your laundry basket honker donkers, for fuck’s sake. What the Hell is Christina doing back there?” I described the scene to Chris, telling him, “well, she must have found a cumsock of yours from today and she’s rubbing it into her ax wound.” Christina paused for a minute, a strand of that goopy jizz hanging from her lips to the sock and I practically threw up. I rolled down the window and heaved for a minute as the gravity of the situation was dawning on me. Christina had grabbed one of Chris’s cumsocks, thinking that somehow it was mine and still had a trace of viable seed on it, and began rubbing it into her vagoo.
Christina cooed, “what’s wrong, honker donkers? I’m sure you taste even better when you’re fresh,” and I practically shouted, “That’s Chris’s sock!” Things got real quiet as the gravitas of the situation kicked in for both Chris and Christina. Christina instantly flew into a rage, throwing down the cumsock and waddling up behind the driver’s seat and began to beat Chris on the back of the head. The truck swerved left and right, and I started yelling, “Chris! Brakes!” I pressed the hazards and grabbed the wheel while he tried to shield his head and slowly decelerate us to a stop while Christina screeched about how Chris had just raped her. The whole deceleration, Chris was pummeled by his sister’s hamfists, until we finally made it to the shoulder of the road with the hazards on. The whole time, Christina, half-naked and shrieking, accused Chris of having tricked her into inseminating herself with his poopysplooge.
Chris got up from where he sat and started to throw blows against his sister, the useless and ineffectual impacts of each combatant wailing upon each other’s heads with little to no actually damage inflicted. I figured they would tire themselves out eventually, and when things finally did settle down, Christina collapsed into a sobbing, half-naked mess, still clutching the gnarly sock that contained her brother’s fetid ejaculate. She lifted up a corner of it and used to wipe a tear that trickled down her cheek. Across from her, Chris stared ahead for a thousand miles, comatose and catatonic.
I didn’t break the silence. I just listened to the wails in meditative silence. Finally a choked sob came from Christina. “You’re… you’re just messing with me, right?” I came back hard and unapologetic. “At what time between then and now did you think I went into the back and rubbed one out? In the two minutes you guys were fighting over the driver’s seat, did you think I whipped it out and spanked it? I’m not gross like either of you two.” The wails intensified. Chris continued to gaze into the abyss, wondering just what in the Hell had led to this culmination of events. When things started to calm down, Christina whined and sniveled and said, “well, what happens now?”
I remarked that she should probably go head to a hospital and get checked for STDs. I mentioned Chris’s long history of having unprotected sex with truck stop tutes, which he fervently denied in the moment, calling me a liar, but I persisted and said that that was the best course of action for her. She should probably go get checked out. She curled into a ball in the back while Chris looked at me with a scowl and said, “dude, I can’t believe you’re telling lies about me like that. Why would I ever sleep with a prostitute bro? I’m an alpha pussy magnet.” I said, “whatever, fat boy, get back in the driver’s seat and get your sister to the hospital so they can take a look at her.”
Begrudgingly, he got up from where he sat and got to the driver’s seat, starting the truck up again and taking us off the shoulder in a tense and awkward silence. Not even the cries of “nani? Baka!” serenaded us as we went down the road, the gravitas of such a situation apparent to even one poopycum man who was otherwise oblivious about everything. We rode for about an hour before we finally came off the interstate on the of Amarillo, and Chris drove us into a hospital. Christina got up from the back and sullenly walked towards the hospital entrance while Chris and I sat there in quiet.
We exchanged a look between each other, a silent, “so what do we do now,” before Chris mumbled, “I guess I’ll call in to dispatch and let them know what’s going on.” I replied that that would be the best, and so Chris picked up the radio receiver and Chris told dispatch, verbatim, “hey, uh, dispatch, this is Chris, and we’ve had to stop at a hospital. I guess my sister found one of my cum socks and used it to masturbate and now she needs to get checked out because she’s worried about STDs or something.” The line crackled in awkward silence. I tried not to cackle with laughter. He could have stopped at “I had to drop my sister off at the hospital” and that was that. Well, it took about a minute to get a response. I’m sure dispatch was wondering just what the Hell Chris was even talking about, and trying to come to terms with that awkward sentence he had given them. Eventually, dispatch got back to us. They wanted to know how long we would be. Chris said there was no current ETA at the moment.
Eventually, we were told to sit tight, and Chris and I sat back in the truck, letting the hours whittle away while we waited for Christina to get checked out. He was a man of few words then, just repeating to himself, “I can’t believe this happened,” and “god, my sister is such a stupid slut.” I couldn’t disagree on either of those points, of course, and so I held my tongue too. We must have sat in that lot for several hours, before Chris shot upright and yelled, “it’s not fair!”
I didn’t reply. Something was bothering the big guy, obviously, and I wasn’t about to invite it out of him because I didn’t give a damn. He launched into a rant about how he never wanted to take his stupid sister out on the road anyway because women don’t know how to drive trucks and she was a disgusting beast who shouldn’t have masturbated with his laundry and now he was gonna be late for the drop off which was eating into his time for roaming the lots looking for drugs and lizards. All these things were true, but like I said, the last thing I wanted to do was encourage him. When finally he tuckered himself out with all his whining and complaining, he collapsed into the driver’s seat once again in sullen silence. I have anticipated for him to start up, again. Quietly, he mumbled, “so, do you think she’s gonna keep it?”
I was mortified at the thought. Another hour passed in awkward silence before we could see Christina come barreling down the parking lot towards the truck. When she hoisted herself into the cab, the truck lurched under her weight and she came in, sullen faced and more disturbed than ever. I didn’t ask her what happened, but Chris was eager to know. The short summary is that the hospital gave her something called prep, which is basically a medicine to guard against HIV infection, and a morning after pill for her to take on her own time. When Chris heard the mention of the morning after pill, he started up, “so you’re just gonna kill our baby like that?” Christina loudly voiced what everyone was thinking. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Chris? Ugh, god forbid if anything even took root, of course I’m going to kill it.”
This precipitated a long argument as Chris pulled us out of the lot, shouting over his shoulder that his sister was a disgusting infanticidal sow and that it was morally repugnant for her to terminate the life of a small child, even, yes, if it was forged in the poopycum passion of a serial molester’s mistake. I let this get more and more heated, of course. I wanted it to end, don’t get me wrong, but at this point, I was banking on them becoming so antagonistic to each other that either Chris or Christina quiet and I could continue the night in relative peace. The good lord must have been listening to my prayer that evening, because eventually Christina shouted, “screw you! I’m calling daddy!” and she whipped out her phone to call her father.
She ranted into the mouthpiece that Chris was a disgusting subhuman troglodyte (accurate) and that he was also a gross pervert (also a fact) and that she didn’t think she could hack the trucking lifestyle if she had to copilot with Chris. Her father, doting on daddy’s girl, I can only assume, responded something, and she continued, “fine, I’ll be there in an hour.” She turned to Chris in a huff and told him to take her to the airport. My reprieve had come. Chris didn’t do that, though. He pulled over the truck, told her to go screw herself with a used splooge sock, and that she could walk home. Christina did get out of the truck, presumably to call a cab.
I never did encounter Christina again, but according to Chris’s reckoning, their dad placed her in another truck to learn under someone else, and my heart went out for that poor soul who inevitably was sexually assaulted by her discolored nipnops and yeasty odor. Thankfully, no poopycum child was ever forged by Christina’s spoiled eggs and Chris’s stagnant seed, either, because that, my friends, would have truly been an abomination against all that is holy. I don’t know if Christina got the clap or the herp or any of that, but my best is safely on, yes, it happened.
After she left, Chris and I were surprisingly sympatico for the next two days. I almost felt a debt to the poopycum man for saving me from his sister’s sexual wiles by way of his own disgusting degenerate nature, but I never expressed it. The last thing I wanted him to think was that I was approving of him jacking off in the truck again and giving him carte blanche to do so. We never spoke of her again, though from time to time, when I would walk through the yard office back in California, I would catch the odd wafting fragrance of curdling yeast and wondered if Christina actually did manage to get herself into a company truck. I would not be surprised.
And that, my friends, concludes today’s installment, but don’t you guys a worry, because even though the real world is calling my name, I’ll be back in the not too distant future with yet another story about everyone’s favorite opprobrious little cumstain, Chris.
submitted by MommyHonkerDonkers to u/MommyHonkerDonkers [link] [comments]
Who is Chris? Chris is a very fat and sweaty man surrounded by an impenetrable aura of poopycum stinkystank. He is a grotesque goblin content to dwell in his own personal dark triad of meth, anime, and lot lizards. Chris and I both used to work for a trucking company – a major one – and him and I would take turns driving our big rig down the road. Things were usually okay when Chris was driving, but when Chris’s shift would come to an end, or worse yet, when we would pull over for the night, Chris would find himself free to do Chris things. You know the things. Then, despite my best efforts to make him bathe and behave, it was all in vain, and we would descend just a little bit further into madness. Thankfully, I no longer have to ride with Chris.
Last installment we were introduced to Christina. Do you not know who Christina is? Well, maybe you should go and look up that last post, or better yet, go and listen to the narration of it as done by our good pal ReddX. Christina really was the feminine counterpart to the poopycum man. Well, after some sly maneuvering, I managed to escape the clutches of this wily bovine.
Now, I woke up the following morning to find both truck doors still locked and I thanked myself that my comfortable sanctuary had not been breached in the night by the poopycum people. I looked at my clock and realized that we were getting a bit late in the morning and that we needed to get on the road. Begrudgingly, I got out of bed, put on my shoes, and went out into the travel plaza to locate the gruesome twosome. I didn’t have to go far. I found Chris and his sister outside of the convenience store, wolfing down microwaved carbs, grease, and high fructose corn syrup like they a couple pigs in a trough. I came up, Chris dismissively remarking hey, and Christina replying with a sultry “good morning honker donkers” which I ignored. I turned to Chris, pretending his sister didn’t exist, and said, “we gotta get on the road, dude. Are you ready?” He shoved half a hot dog down into his mouth as if to deep throat the thing and said, “yeah, let’s go. Come on Christina.”
We all got back to the truck and I jumped in the passenger seat first that morning, taking us out of our parking space and further down the road. I figured I’d get my drive time out of the way first so that I could make my money without having to fight with Chris, and alternatively, if Christina drove the afternoon, I could spend it in relative peace without fear of molestation. Of course, that first shift was hell. Christina was still in heat – swampy, musky heat – and kept trying to coo her way into giving me road head. Thankfully, Chris was still the same scum that he was from yesterday and made things too awkward even for the beast beside me for her to make her moves. Every time she got a little too close to me, I’d find some way to rouse Chris’s attention and he would fluster her with his incestuous masturbatory desires.
When my shift finally came to an end, I got up and headed to the back to relax in my bunk while Chris and Christina fought over the driver’s seat. Chris shouted, “dude! I haven’t drove at all this whole trip! I need to make money so I can get some new figures for my army. Get up Christina,” to which Christina replied, “shove it. Just ask dad for some money. I wanna drive the truck.” Well, Chris wasn’t having it. I guess dad had been cutting him off as of late and gave the landwhale a hard shove, sending her careening into the side of the truck, causing the whole rig to rock back and forth. She came back and lunged at Chris and they started throwing blows at each other. I didn’t intervene, of course. I sincerely doubted either of them had the required upper body strength to actually injure the other. No, I let them get tired. Christina gave up first and said, “fine! Drive the damn truck! I’ll just go hang out with honker donkers.” At this, my ears perked up, I got up from my bunk, and plopped down in the passenger seat – a place only big enough for one person mind you – and Christina cast me a sour look. She knew I didn’t want to be anywhere near her, but that didn’t seem to stop her from still trying to put on the moves. With a dejected sigh, she waddled towards the back, and I screamed, “you better not lay down on my bunk,” and she said, “fuck you, I’m not going to lay in your bed.” Chris did his pre-drive checklist before casting a glance over to me, mumbling, “women, am I right or what, bro,” before putting his phone on the dongle and pressing play. We pulled onto the road to the throaty cries of “nani? Baka!”
As we drove, I did my best to ignore the people about me, grateful that I was safe with Chris driving the truck. I descended into my book as best I could while the poopycum man took us down the road. I was doing a good job pretending I wasn’t there, of course, but it certainly didn’t last forever. Somewhere around the hour mark, however, a symphony of squeaking bedsprings arrested my attention. Chris even looked away from his podcast for a minute and locked eyes with me, and we exchanged a what the fuck moment. Cautiously, I looked over my shoulder towards the back of the cab.
The ham planet had made herself comfortable in my bed, alright. Too comfortable. Her languid, throaty breaths punctuated the awkward scene before me. Her swollen red ass was firmly planted on my bed and she sat there, one hand lifting up her sagging belly, the other fondling her yawning crevasse. She smiled coyly as she saw that I had turned around and motioned for me to approach, but I did not dare to do so. I recoiled in absolute disgust, letting out a “what the Hell are you doing?” Chris swerved a bit at my outburst but managed to stay on the road. My disgust only elevated exponentially when I saw that the hand that touched her rancid cooch held something in it. “What the fuck is that?”
She smiled wryly as she held up a dirty old sock, and I practically gagged. She replied, “Even if you don’t come here inside me, I’ve got your come inside me.” I dry-heaved for a moment as Chris said, “what the Hell is going on back there?” Pale as a ghost, I mumbled, “dude, she’s masturbating with an old sock.” Chris swerved again. “Oh fuck. Christina, where did you get that sock?”
Things got real quiet real fast. Christina mumbled, “I got it off of honker donker’s laundry hamper. I can tell he must have been thinking about me when he used it.” I shuddered. I don’t beat off into socks in the back of the truck cab, and even if I had done it, I certainly hadn’t done it today. Whatever hypothetical cum sock she had found would have been long dried up from the night before if I had made one. No, somebody else’s cum was on that sock. She smiled wryly as she lifted it up and played with a sticky strand of goo that adhered to the fabric before pulling her fingers down to her snatch and I gagged.
“Christina,” I said slowly, “that isn’t my sock.” She retorted, “don’t lie, it was on your hamper,” and I practically yelled at Chris “why are you throwing your cum socks in my laundry basket, bro?” Chris said, “I didn’t throw a cum sock in your laundry basket honker donkers, for fuck’s sake. What the Hell is Christina doing back there?” I described the scene to Chris, telling him, “well, she must have found a cumsock of yours from today and she’s rubbing it into her ax wound.” Christina paused for a minute, a strand of that goopy jizz hanging from her lips to the sock and I practically threw up. I rolled down the window and heaved for a minute as the gravity of the situation was dawning on me. Christina had grabbed one of Chris’s cumsocks, thinking that somehow it was mine and still had a trace of viable seed on it, and began rubbing it into her vagoo.
Christina cooed, “what’s wrong, honker donkers? I’m sure you taste even better when you’re fresh,” and I practically shouted, “That’s Chris’s sock!” Things got real quiet as the gravitas of the situation kicked in for both Chris and Christina. Christina instantly flew into a rage, throwing down the cumsock and waddling up behind the driver’s seat and began to beat Chris on the back of the head. The truck swerved left and right, and I started yelling, “Chris! Brakes!” I pressed the hazards and grabbed the wheel while he tried to shield his head and slowly decelerate us to a stop while Christina screeched about how Chris had just raped her. The whole deceleration, Chris was pummeled by his sister’s hamfists, until we finally made it to the shoulder of the road with the hazards on. The whole time, Christina, half-naked and shrieking, accused Chris of having tricked her into inseminating herself with his poopysplooge.
Chris got up from where he sat and started to throw blows against his sister, the useless and ineffectual impacts of each combatant wailing upon each other’s heads with little to no actually damage inflicted. I figured they would tire themselves out eventually, and when things finally did settle down, Christina collapsed into a sobbing, half-naked mess, still clutching the gnarly sock that contained her brother’s fetid ejaculate. She lifted up a corner of it and used to wipe a tear that trickled down her cheek. Across from her, Chris stared ahead for a thousand miles, comatose and catatonic.
I didn’t break the silence. I just listened to the wails in meditative silence. Finally a choked sob came from Christina. “You’re… you’re just messing with me, right?” I came back hard and unapologetic. “At what time between then and now did you think I went into the back and rubbed one out? In the two minutes you guys were fighting over the driver’s seat, did you think I whipped it out and spanked it? I’m not gross like either of you two.” The wails intensified. Chris continued to gaze into the abyss, wondering just what in the Hell had led to this culmination of events. When things started to calm down, Christina whined and sniveled and said, “well, what happens now?”
I remarked that she should probably go head to a hospital and get checked for STDs. I mentioned Chris’s long history of having unprotected sex with truck stop tutes, which he fervently denied in the moment, calling me a liar, but I persisted and said that that was the best course of action for her. She should probably go get checked out. She curled into a ball in the back while Chris looked at me with a scowl and said, “dude, I can’t believe you’re telling lies about me like that. Why would I ever sleep with a prostitute bro? I’m an alpha pussy magnet.” I said, “whatever, fat boy, get back in the driver’s seat and get your sister to the hospital so they can take a look at her.”
Begrudgingly, he got up from where he sat and got to the driver’s seat, starting the truck up again and taking us off the shoulder in a tense and awkward silence. Not even the cries of “nani? Baka!” serenaded us as we went down the road, the gravitas of such a situation apparent to even one poopycum man who was otherwise oblivious about everything. We rode for about an hour before we finally came off the interstate on the of Amarillo, and Chris drove us into a hospital. Christina got up from the back and sullenly walked towards the hospital entrance while Chris and I sat there in quiet.
We exchanged a look between each other, a silent, “so what do we do now,” before Chris mumbled, “I guess I’ll call in to dispatch and let them know what’s going on.” I replied that that would be the best, and so Chris picked up the radio receiver and Chris told dispatch, verbatim, “hey, uh, dispatch, this is Chris, and we’ve had to stop at a hospital. I guess my sister found one of my cum socks and used it to masturbate and now she needs to get checked out because she’s worried about STDs or something.” The line crackled in awkward silence. I tried not to cackle with laughter. He could have stopped at “I had to drop my sister off at the hospital” and that was that. Well, it took about a minute to get a response. I’m sure dispatch was wondering just what the Hell Chris was even talking about, and trying to come to terms with that awkward sentence he had given them. Eventually, dispatch got back to us. They wanted to know how long we would be. Chris said there was no current ETA at the moment.
Eventually, we were told to sit tight, and Chris and I sat back in the truck, letting the hours whittle away while we waited for Christina to get checked out. He was a man of few words then, just repeating to himself, “I can’t believe this happened,” and “god, my sister is such a stupid slut.” I couldn’t disagree on either of those points, of course, and so I held my tongue too. We must have sat in that lot for several hours, before Chris shot upright and yelled, “it’s not fair!”
I didn’t reply. Something was bothering the big guy, obviously, and I wasn’t about to invite it out of him because I didn’t give a damn. He launched into a rant about how he never wanted to take his stupid sister out on the road anyway because women don’t know how to drive trucks and she was a disgusting beast who shouldn’t have masturbated with his laundry and now he was gonna be late for the drop off which was eating into his time for roaming the lots looking for drugs and lizards. All these things were true, but like I said, the last thing I wanted to do was encourage him. When finally he tuckered himself out with all his whining and complaining, he collapsed into the driver’s seat once again in sullen silence. I have anticipated for him to start up, again. Quietly, he mumbled, “so, do you think she’s gonna keep it?”
I was mortified at the thought. Another hour passed in awkward silence before we could see Christina come barreling down the parking lot towards the truck. When she hoisted herself into the cab, the truck lurched under her weight and she came in, sullen faced and more disturbed than ever. I didn’t ask her what happened, but Chris was eager to know. The short summary is that the hospital gave her something called prep, which is basically a medicine to guard against HIV infection, and a morning after pill for her to take on her own time. When Chris heard the mention of the morning after pill, he started up, “so you’re just gonna kill our baby like that?” Christina loudly voiced what everyone was thinking. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Chris? Ugh, god forbid if anything even took root, of course I’m going to kill it.”
This precipitated a long argument as Chris pulled us out of the lot, shouting over his shoulder that his sister was a disgusting infanticidal sow and that it was morally repugnant for her to terminate the life of a small child, even, yes, if it was forged in the poopycum passion of a serial molester’s mistake. I let this get more and more heated, of course. I wanted it to end, don’t get me wrong, but at this point, I was banking on them becoming so antagonistic to each other that either Chris or Christina quiet and I could continue the night in relative peace. The good lord must have been listening to my prayer that evening, because eventually Christina shouted, “screw you! I’m calling daddy!” and she whipped out her phone to call her father.
She ranted into the mouthpiece that Chris was a disgusting subhuman troglodyte (accurate) and that he was also a gross pervert (also a fact) and that she didn’t think she could hack the trucking lifestyle if she had to copilot with Chris. Her father, doting on daddy’s girl, I can only assume, responded something, and she continued, “fine, I’ll be there in an hour.” She turned to Chris in a huff and told him to take her to the airport. My reprieve had come. Chris didn’t do that, though. He pulled over the truck, told her to go screw herself with a used splooge sock, and that she could walk home. Christina did get out of the truck, presumably to call a cab.
I never did encounter Christina again, but according to Chris’s reckoning, their dad placed her in another truck to learn under someone else, and my heart went out for that poor soul who inevitably was sexually assaulted by her discolored nipnops and yeasty odor. Thankfully, no poopycum child was ever forged by Christina’s spoiled eggs and Chris’s stagnant seed, either, because that, my friends, would have truly been an abomination against all that is holy. I don’t know if Christina got the clap or the herp or any of that, but my best is safely on, yes, it happened.
After she left, Chris and I were surprisingly sympatico for the next two days. I almost felt a debt to the poopycum man for saving me from his sister’s sexual wiles by way of his own disgusting degenerate nature, but I never expressed it. The last thing I wanted him to think was that I was approving of him jacking off in the truck again and giving him carte blanche to do so. We never spoke of her again, though from time to time, when I would walk through the yard office back in California, I would catch the odd wafting fragrance of curdling yeast and wondered if Christina actually did manage to get herself into a company truck. I would not be surprised.
And that, my friends, concludes today’s installment, but don’t you guys a worry, because even though the real world is calling my name, I’ll be back in the not too distant future with yet another story about everyone’s favorite opprobrious little cumstain, Chris.
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submitted by Small-Win-9042 to u/Small-Win-9042 [link] [comments]
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