Fat nancy's tackle shop
just reading the first Harry Potter audiobook and I have a HUGE question..
2023.06.07 23:43 RevolutionaryTear637 just reading the first Harry Potter audiobook and I have a HUGE question..
So when Harry and Ron take down the troll, Harry retrieves his wand from the trolls nostril and proceeds to wipe his wand on the trolls TROUSERS. Where does a troll get his trousers? Are there troll shops? Is there troll currency? Can trolls sew? Why are trolls shy of their tackle? So many questions
submitted by RevolutionaryTear637 to harrypotter [link] [comments]
2023.06.07 23:12 Responsible_Bear_492 Daughter and GF do not get along and I may have to choose
I'm definitely the Ahole here but Im trying to navigate the situation the healthiest way for all parties.
I(47F) have 6 children (23M, 21F, 19M, 15M, 12M, 10M, a husband (52M) and a GF(36F).
A little Backstory: I have been with my husband for 26 years, and with my GF for 16 years. My Husband has known about my sexuality as long as I have and was with me on my (very private) journey of self discovery and all decisions about our marriage were made together. My relationship with my GF happened with his support and knowledge.
It was a year into our relationship before she was able to meet the kids and 2 years before she got to be around them. After that when she came to town she would stay in the house with us and no, nothing ever happened between us in front of the kids.
My daughter did know when she was 8 most of the other kids when they were 12. I know I screwed up here, thinking that to normalize our relationship to them would be the best thing. holding hands and sitting close to each other as an expression of love that could be seen in any relationship not just a romantic one, if nothing else, they should just see people that care for one another.
A the same time, I behaved even more affectionately with their father on a day to day basis normally for whatever that is worth. and for clarity, my GF was not there all the time, 1-2 times a year for a few weeks to a month at a time, so her being around was definitely not the majority of time.
So about my daughter. From a very young age she needed more expression of love and attention than my boys. she was very competitive with her brother as they were only 18 months apart. She was always a very good person with a tendency to lie, steal, gaslight and manipulate.
Example when she was 7, I had a new DS and she had taken it. I came to her room to ask if she had seen it, it was sitting behind her under a pillow and I could see it, she swore to me up and down that she didn't take it, suggested many alternatives, questioned my memory, swore that there weren't even any games she liked. Why would she take it? Don't I know her? Don't I trust her? She's very smart. She's only gotten more secretive, sneaky, learned more about how to get at people's (especially mine) insecurities and weaknesses. She will even swear she hates something she likes if it serves the narrative of her lies.
She's gone on to steal other things, especially when she is angry or feeling ignored, she's just learned to hide them better or throw them away. There is usually a grain of truth in her lies. She told a teacher she had to care for her elderly grandparents including changing their depends, her disabled brother, and be the sole after school care provider for her younger siblings. This was her explanation to a HS teacher as to why her assignment would be late. Her grandparents were very able bodied, she helped move some things. Her "disabled" brother is not wheelchair bound, takes care of all of his bodily needs, bathes and feeds himself and is older than her so she doesn't need to do anything there and at the time she was not responsible for watching her younger brothers for more than 30 minutes once a week.
All that said, she is still a very kind, caring, generous, strong and reliable person, as long as the relationship is on her terms. She has just always pushed and demanded and wanted more and I have spend more time, energy, money and effort on her than all her brothers combined. She's the only one with her own room, I pay for her phone, car insurance, and when she was indignant that I was helping her brother with his rent at college, I didn't even remind her that she lives with me and eats my food for free. (She is 21)
What I know I have to own the blame for: I let my GF take the kids during the day while I was at work. She loves them, considers them her stepkids, generally was doing activities with them, hanging out with them. She comes from a very toxic ad dysfunctional family environment (don't we all in some ways) she helped provide routine, structure and love to the kids, I saw this as a good thing.
There were times when either or both of us would be more free with our words when we were talking with her. she did nor (at 8-12) need to be included in any of the nuance of our relationship. positive or negative.
We took her shopping or out with us to movies, at the time I considered this spending time with her she now sees as us using her as a cover.
I have let my GF parent her and her brothers to a degree. I have not kept all the rules and limitations consistent between her being here and not. Things like, portion control, bedtime, pajamas, brushing teeth, not eating in the livingroom, no TV after bedtime etc. She has always been more firm on these things than either me or my husband, and I considered that a benefit to the kids. Whenever she visits, there is another adult contributing to the cost of running the house, folding laundry, doing dishes, sweeping, mopping, everything is better upkept, we have more time for the kids, we play more games with them, take them out to do more activities, get held accountable to showing love for them more consistently.
She also on occasion criticized me or my husband in front of or to the kids. Set rules or punishments for the kids that were consistent with our (their father and I's) normal punishment standards. She would call me out in front of them for being lax and "changing the rules" when she was around and not upholding things when she wasn't.
She would be critical of the kids when it came to some things, I don't have a perfect memory of these things but some of it could easily be seen as "you're too fat", "you're too pushy", "you're too needy". to a young child without those ever being the words that were said or the intended message.
So I was a horrible selfish and negligent parent who ignored my daughter's mental and emotional abuse at the hands of my sometimes sidepiece. At least according to my daughter's therapist.
When my daughter was 16 there was a confrontation, I had promised to take people Christmas shopping, it was Saturday and Christmas was Tuesday. Me GF and Husband went to breakfast together, I went shopping with husband, I took some boys shopping, Husband took other boys shopping, GF doesnt drive. GF spent time with who was home, grabbed dinner, took GF, had a few other obligations that day, Daughter wanted to go shopping alone with me. Great, all other things done by 9pm, live by a 24 hour walmart so we can go there at any time. We get home and Im ready to take her and she is in her room, upset that I ignored or forgot about her. I try to apologize and tell her I had a plan and I could have communicated better and I'm ready to go then if she was still interested. Daughter yells at me that I always prioritize everyone over her, I always put other people first and her last, I'm a bootlicker and a doormat for GF and she means nothing to me. GF steps in to defend me (which I should have stopped) and GF calls daughter a child who doesn't get to dictate how an adult prioritizes her time and that I don't have to tell her anything about my plans and schedule and Daughter should just be glad I'm making time for her.
Screaming, yelling, panic attacks and shutting down later. I spent the entire next day with my daughter out so she won that one and got 5 times more time with me alone than I spent with her brothers collectively.
I told GF she was out of line, she verbally apologized to daughter for implying she didn't have any rights as a child to have an opinion or to be communicated with. The two seemed to get along for the remainder of GF's visit.
After GF leaves, daughter sees new therapist. Daughter Hates GF, never wants to see her again, might be open to forgiving her if she apologized, says she never did. I wasn't there so I can't tell her she's wrong. But the degree and severity to which she does not want GF in her sphere have grown more intense. At first, it was she didnt want to be around her, hear about her, but If I wanted her in my life that was fine. now it is I am siding with her abuser over her, I am not protecting her, I am not trust worthy, she has panic attacks every time GFs name is mentioned, with pandemic and daughter's feelings, I did not see GF for 3 years and that was only when she joined me for a few days on a business trip. Daughter had panic attacks over GF being accross the country with me.
Now Daughter is planning on being out of the house for 3 weeks housesitting, GF has not seen other kids for 4 years so really wants to see them, Husband invited her while daughter is out of the house. I could have told daughter earlier. but she had a lot going on and I didnt want to cause her to have panic attacks. I was going to tell her within 2 weeks of GF arriving about a week after the plans were set. But Grandma (Husbands mom) told her first.
So now daughter has claim to lies and manipulation and noone having her back, and her having panic attacks and how could I let her abuser into our home, (she claimed the same thing about her older brother that she had physical and verbal fights with growing up, the disabled one, and he does have issues) and I am destroying my relationship with her and I am choosing someone who is manipulative, toxic and controlling over her.
Point of clarity No, my daughter was never SA'd by Husband or GF, and absolutely not by me, but I know someone will bring it up. My daughter has said she was SA'd by someone, did not feel safe to tell me about it, does not trust me, and wont tell me more, but not by GF or Husband.
So I am feeling like I have to make a choice here. GF or Daughter. GF votes I choose daughter. If I have to choose, its daughter hands down no contest because she is my daughter. Husband doesn't know what to do, just doesn't want anyone hurting. There is no choice that isn't painful for someone.
Love any advice anyone has for me including that Im a sinner who will burn in hell. I know.
TLDR
Daughter (21F) lives at home with me, has suffered some emotional trauma at the hands of my GF, doesnt like my GF and feels traumatized that I keep GF in her life.
submitted by Responsible_Bear_492 to Advice [link] [comments]
I(47F) have 6 children (23M, 21F, 19M, 15M, 12M, 10M, a husband (52M) and a GF(36F).
A little Backstory: I have been with my husband for 26 years, and with my GF for 16 years. My Husband has known about my sexuality as long as I have and was with me on my (very private) journey of self discovery and all decisions about our marriage were made together. My relationship with my GF happened with his support and knowledge.
It was a year into our relationship before she was able to meet the kids and 2 years before she got to be around them. After that when she came to town she would stay in the house with us and no, nothing ever happened between us in front of the kids.
My daughter did know when she was 8 most of the other kids when they were 12. I know I screwed up here, thinking that to normalize our relationship to them would be the best thing. holding hands and sitting close to each other as an expression of love that could be seen in any relationship not just a romantic one, if nothing else, they should just see people that care for one another.
A the same time, I behaved even more affectionately with their father on a day to day basis normally for whatever that is worth. and for clarity, my GF was not there all the time, 1-2 times a year for a few weeks to a month at a time, so her being around was definitely not the majority of time.
So about my daughter. From a very young age she needed more expression of love and attention than my boys. she was very competitive with her brother as they were only 18 months apart. She was always a very good person with a tendency to lie, steal, gaslight and manipulate.
Example when she was 7, I had a new DS and she had taken it. I came to her room to ask if she had seen it, it was sitting behind her under a pillow and I could see it, she swore to me up and down that she didn't take it, suggested many alternatives, questioned my memory, swore that there weren't even any games she liked. Why would she take it? Don't I know her? Don't I trust her? She's very smart. She's only gotten more secretive, sneaky, learned more about how to get at people's (especially mine) insecurities and weaknesses. She will even swear she hates something she likes if it serves the narrative of her lies.
She's gone on to steal other things, especially when she is angry or feeling ignored, she's just learned to hide them better or throw them away. There is usually a grain of truth in her lies. She told a teacher she had to care for her elderly grandparents including changing their depends, her disabled brother, and be the sole after school care provider for her younger siblings. This was her explanation to a HS teacher as to why her assignment would be late. Her grandparents were very able bodied, she helped move some things. Her "disabled" brother is not wheelchair bound, takes care of all of his bodily needs, bathes and feeds himself and is older than her so she doesn't need to do anything there and at the time she was not responsible for watching her younger brothers for more than 30 minutes once a week.
All that said, she is still a very kind, caring, generous, strong and reliable person, as long as the relationship is on her terms. She has just always pushed and demanded and wanted more and I have spend more time, energy, money and effort on her than all her brothers combined. She's the only one with her own room, I pay for her phone, car insurance, and when she was indignant that I was helping her brother with his rent at college, I didn't even remind her that she lives with me and eats my food for free. (She is 21)
What I know I have to own the blame for: I let my GF take the kids during the day while I was at work. She loves them, considers them her stepkids, generally was doing activities with them, hanging out with them. She comes from a very toxic ad dysfunctional family environment (don't we all in some ways) she helped provide routine, structure and love to the kids, I saw this as a good thing.
There were times when either or both of us would be more free with our words when we were talking with her. she did nor (at 8-12) need to be included in any of the nuance of our relationship. positive or negative.
We took her shopping or out with us to movies, at the time I considered this spending time with her she now sees as us using her as a cover.
I have let my GF parent her and her brothers to a degree. I have not kept all the rules and limitations consistent between her being here and not. Things like, portion control, bedtime, pajamas, brushing teeth, not eating in the livingroom, no TV after bedtime etc. She has always been more firm on these things than either me or my husband, and I considered that a benefit to the kids. Whenever she visits, there is another adult contributing to the cost of running the house, folding laundry, doing dishes, sweeping, mopping, everything is better upkept, we have more time for the kids, we play more games with them, take them out to do more activities, get held accountable to showing love for them more consistently.
She also on occasion criticized me or my husband in front of or to the kids. Set rules or punishments for the kids that were consistent with our (their father and I's) normal punishment standards. She would call me out in front of them for being lax and "changing the rules" when she was around and not upholding things when she wasn't.
She would be critical of the kids when it came to some things, I don't have a perfect memory of these things but some of it could easily be seen as "you're too fat", "you're too pushy", "you're too needy". to a young child without those ever being the words that were said or the intended message.
So I was a horrible selfish and negligent parent who ignored my daughter's mental and emotional abuse at the hands of my sometimes sidepiece. At least according to my daughter's therapist.
When my daughter was 16 there was a confrontation, I had promised to take people Christmas shopping, it was Saturday and Christmas was Tuesday. Me GF and Husband went to breakfast together, I went shopping with husband, I took some boys shopping, Husband took other boys shopping, GF doesnt drive. GF spent time with who was home, grabbed dinner, took GF, had a few other obligations that day, Daughter wanted to go shopping alone with me. Great, all other things done by 9pm, live by a 24 hour walmart so we can go there at any time. We get home and Im ready to take her and she is in her room, upset that I ignored or forgot about her. I try to apologize and tell her I had a plan and I could have communicated better and I'm ready to go then if she was still interested. Daughter yells at me that I always prioritize everyone over her, I always put other people first and her last, I'm a bootlicker and a doormat for GF and she means nothing to me. GF steps in to defend me (which I should have stopped) and GF calls daughter a child who doesn't get to dictate how an adult prioritizes her time and that I don't have to tell her anything about my plans and schedule and Daughter should just be glad I'm making time for her.
Screaming, yelling, panic attacks and shutting down later. I spent the entire next day with my daughter out so she won that one and got 5 times more time with me alone than I spent with her brothers collectively.
I told GF she was out of line, she verbally apologized to daughter for implying she didn't have any rights as a child to have an opinion or to be communicated with. The two seemed to get along for the remainder of GF's visit.
After GF leaves, daughter sees new therapist. Daughter Hates GF, never wants to see her again, might be open to forgiving her if she apologized, says she never did. I wasn't there so I can't tell her she's wrong. But the degree and severity to which she does not want GF in her sphere have grown more intense. At first, it was she didnt want to be around her, hear about her, but If I wanted her in my life that was fine. now it is I am siding with her abuser over her, I am not protecting her, I am not trust worthy, she has panic attacks every time GFs name is mentioned, with pandemic and daughter's feelings, I did not see GF for 3 years and that was only when she joined me for a few days on a business trip. Daughter had panic attacks over GF being accross the country with me.
Now Daughter is planning on being out of the house for 3 weeks housesitting, GF has not seen other kids for 4 years so really wants to see them, Husband invited her while daughter is out of the house. I could have told daughter earlier. but she had a lot going on and I didnt want to cause her to have panic attacks. I was going to tell her within 2 weeks of GF arriving about a week after the plans were set. But Grandma (Husbands mom) told her first.
So now daughter has claim to lies and manipulation and noone having her back, and her having panic attacks and how could I let her abuser into our home, (she claimed the same thing about her older brother that she had physical and verbal fights with growing up, the disabled one, and he does have issues) and I am destroying my relationship with her and I am choosing someone who is manipulative, toxic and controlling over her.
Point of clarity No, my daughter was never SA'd by Husband or GF, and absolutely not by me, but I know someone will bring it up. My daughter has said she was SA'd by someone, did not feel safe to tell me about it, does not trust me, and wont tell me more, but not by GF or Husband.
So I am feeling like I have to make a choice here. GF or Daughter. GF votes I choose daughter. If I have to choose, its daughter hands down no contest because she is my daughter. Husband doesn't know what to do, just doesn't want anyone hurting. There is no choice that isn't painful for someone.
Love any advice anyone has for me including that Im a sinner who will burn in hell. I know.
TLDR
Daughter (21F) lives at home with me, has suffered some emotional trauma at the hands of my GF, doesnt like my GF and feels traumatized that I keep GF in her life.
2023.06.07 23:04 BIancBIank [Selling][CONUS & Canada] Masashi 242mm & An Ittetsu 213mm for the Price of Shipping
Hi all,
Back to J-Knives
Verification: https://imgur.com/a/cmDDAsS
Bought this for polishing but got another option to tackle it
Masashi Aogami #1 242mm
https://imgur.com/a/dDEO3Wr
Letting this go for $220USD - Shipped CONUS and Canada
Steel: Aogami #1/Iron Clad
Heel Height: 55.9mm
Edge Length: 242mm
Thickness of Spine at Heel: 3.2mm
Weight: 220g
Finish: Korouchi
Handle: Ironwood/Horn - Coffin Shaped - by Porter Customs
Used for a dinner prep. Stripped the patina.
Original edge.
Bought earlier in the year from KKF for $260.
Ittetsu (Tadafusa) Aogami#2 213mm
https://imgur.com/a/5TYXelq
This one is the price of shipping ($20-$30)
Priority given to the buyer of the knife above if they'd like it for free.
Steel: Aogami #2/Stainless Clad
Heel Height: 47mm
Edge Length: 213mm
Thickness of Spine at Heel: 3.8mm
Weight: 184g
Finish: Nashiji
Handle: Walnut/Integral
Was used by me to practice sharpening and to see what sandpaper grits would like on knives. (Also have another knife for this now)
Essentially it’s not all there aesthetically as it has a lot of stray scratches.
But functionally, it’s all there with the bonus of a rounded spine that’s polished and a rounded choil.
See video for condition
Bought from Sharp Knife Shop for $120.
Thanks all.
submitted by BIancBIank to chefknifeswap [link] [comments]
Back to J-Knives
Verification: https://imgur.com/a/cmDDAsS
Bought this for polishing but got another option to tackle it
Masashi Aogami #1 242mm
https://imgur.com/a/dDEO3Wr
Letting this go for $220USD - Shipped CONUS and Canada
Steel: Aogami #1/Iron Clad
Heel Height: 55.9mm
Edge Length: 242mm
Thickness of Spine at Heel: 3.2mm
Weight: 220g
Finish: Korouchi
Handle: Ironwood/Horn - Coffin Shaped - by Porter Customs
Used for a dinner prep. Stripped the patina.
Original edge.
Bought earlier in the year from KKF for $260.
Ittetsu (Tadafusa) Aogami#2 213mm
https://imgur.com/a/5TYXelq
This one is the price of shipping ($20-$30)
Priority given to the buyer of the knife above if they'd like it for free.
Steel: Aogami #2/Stainless Clad
Heel Height: 47mm
Edge Length: 213mm
Thickness of Spine at Heel: 3.8mm
Weight: 184g
Finish: Nashiji
Handle: Walnut/Integral
Was used by me to practice sharpening and to see what sandpaper grits would like on knives. (Also have another knife for this now)
Essentially it’s not all there aesthetically as it has a lot of stray scratches.
But functionally, it’s all there with the bonus of a rounded spine that’s polished and a rounded choil.
See video for condition
Bought from Sharp Knife Shop for $120.
Thanks all.
2023.06.07 22:19 ClaraEclair Kara: Daughter of Krypton #7 - First Day
DC Next proudly presents:
Issue Seven: First Day
Written by ClaraEclair
Edited by AdamantAce
<< < Previous Issue Next Issue > Coming Next Month
“So, if you’re really going to go through with this, you’re going to need a costume,” said Nia Nal, standing in front of Kara within the Fortress of Solitude. Kara furrowed her brow.
“Why?” she asked.
“Well, one; so you’re easily recognizable,” Nia continued. “And two; I don’t think wearing a space suit like that—” she pointed toward Kara’s one-piece space suit that she had been wearing since arriving on Earth, “—is going to cut it in terms of iconography.”
“But it’s comfortable,” Kara replied, looking down at herself. “I don’t see why I need to have some sort of ‘super’ suit.”
“Kara, has that suit you’re wearing ever been washed?” Nia asked, giving an accusatory look.
“I shower!” Kara exclaimed in response, crossing her arms.
“Yeah, I asked about whether the suit’s been washed,” Nia said, tilting her head slightly, raising her eyebrows. Kara remained silent. “Right, so get on that later, first—”
“Why do I even need something like this anyway?” asked Kara once more. “Is there some quirk in human biology that prevents you from remembering my face or, I don’t know, my powers?” Nia sighed. “I see the point you’re making, but if I’m helping people, isn’t that the point?”
“Why not both?” Nia asked, shrugging her shoulders. “You can be both immediately recognizable and focus on helping people. Why don’t we start with something simple? I know you don’t want to be Superwoman or have any moniker, but why don’t you wear something with your family crest on it?”
“That was the plan,” Kara interjected.
“Perfect, I can make—” Nia paused as she looked down at Kara, who was slowly tapping away at the crest of the House of El on the chest of her space suit, a smug expression on her face. Nia sighed. “Alright, fine,” Nia conceded, “wear it. Just wash it first, please.” With a self-satisfied smirk, Kara stood from her seat and walked toward the nearest wash room, leaving Nia behind.
Nia’s own suit was constructed out of pure Dream Energy, a seemingly mythical substance that only she seemed able to exert control over. Every so often she saw an ominous face on the back of her eyes, but she could never make out any features beyond pitch black eyes reflecting the universe back at her. All memories of the face save those piercing eyes disappeared from her mind the moment her eyes would open.
“What do you hear?” asked Nia, looking up at Kara, who was floating a few metres above the skyscraper they both stood upon. Kara’s face seemed in a permanent wince, dozens of thousands of individual sounds of a city containing millions of citizens.
“There’s… everything,” Kara said, her voice strained against the effort of trying to filter every minutiae of the world around her. “I can’t tell anything apart.”
“That’s alright,” Nia said, her voice soft. “Take your time. If you need help, I can–”
“No!” Kara nearly shouted, interrupting the oneiromancer. “I can do it… I just need to focus.” Nia nodded without words, watching the Kryptonian closely, prepared to soften the psychic blow if anything were to change. “I can… someone’s in trouble…”
“Can you tell where they are?” Nia asked excitedly, prepared to travel anywhere the two would be needed.
“I–” Kara began, her voice breaking as the cacophony of sound breached her mind, obscuring the calls for help she had only barely caught. Someone was in trouble, and yet they were left to suffer simply because Kara could not differentiate simple sounds. Her head pounded, as if she were being hit repeatedly by a hammer, enough to feel it in her jaw, resonating through her body and rattling in her knuckles. “I can’t–!”
Nia tried once again, interrupted a second time by the struggling woman floating above her. “Kara, I can–!”
“No!” Kara shouted once more, pushing through the pain as best she could, desperately searching for the voice. High pitched shouting, low rumbling of cars and planes, barking dogs, and pens scraping paper infiltrated her mind before the sound of a man crying out for help finally arose through the static of life, returning to her senses just enough for– “That way!” Kara said quickly, pointing eastward, toward the pacific coast.
Quickly throwing her hands over her ears as she floated back down toward the roof, Kara took a series of long, deep, instinctual breaths.
Rao help me, I can’t do this, she thought to herself, forcing her eyes shut. A few moments passed before she noticed Nia’s gentle hand on her shoulder, pulling her back to reality. Rao, be my guide. Mordo, my strength. Telle, my mind.
“Are you okay?” Asked Nia, concern in her voice. “If you need to sit out…”
“No,” Kara interrupted her once more, shaking her head harshly as she removed her hands from her ears and looked toward the direction she had pointed to. “I can do it.”
Without further words, Kara shot into the sky, ripping through the air toward her destination.
As Kara touched down outside of the coastal fishing shop, Nia appeared next to her, discomfort clear on her face.
“You’re lucky that rats dream, Kara,” she groaned, wiping her forehead. “But I’d rather avoid travelling through the dreams of animals.”
“Sorry, I…” Kara began, her turn to be interrupted.
“It’s fine,” said Dreamer, looking forward to the shop, pointing a quick finger at it. “That’s the place?” Kara nodded.
“There was a metallic echo in his voice, I think he’s in some sort of cellar or something,” said Kara, using her alternate vision to scan the building. “There are a lot of people in there, more than six.”
“How do you want to do this?” Nia asked, looking over at Kara, curious as to how she would approach the situation.
“We can’t let anyone get hurt,” Kara said. “We need to get the person in trouble out of there as fast as possible. It looks like they’re in a chair, hands tied behind their back. Most of the people inside are standing in a circle around them, a few are in different rooms.”
“You wanna head in the front and distract them while I project into the room and get whoever’s in trouble out of there?” Nia asked.
“That works for me,” Kara responded, slowly making her way toward the front of the shop. It was an innocent looking building, filled with fishing tackle and other supplies, lined on numerous shelves and clothes racks. Entering was easy enough, the door was unlocked and none of the men inside seemed to be looking that way.
Crouching behind a shelf, Kara took a moment to think of how she would approach her distraction.
Looking across the room, the opposite side of the entrance, Kara pressed her fingers together and, using her newfound super strength, snapped her fingers so tightly, so powerfully, that the sound began inaudible, dissipating enough as it travelled to form the sound on the other side of the building.
One of the men muttered to themselves after his head shot toward the entrance, unsure of what would have caused the sound. Cautious as he approached, he pulled a pistol from his waist and prepared to fire as he turned around a shelf, looking at the vending machine across from Kara. The moment he stepped out in front of her, she zipped forward, palming him harshly, sending him flying across the store, colliding with the vending machine.
The loud noise gave Nia the signal she needed, examining the back room for the very moment that the hostage-takers cleared out. The noise Kara was causing at the front of the shop was more than enough to catch their attention, however not all of them left. Dreamer could handle fighting three men more than well enough.
Kara found herself surrounded by four men, aiming weapons at her, yet visibly nervous. She had thrown their friend multiple feet across the shop, and even then, they didn’t know her true capabilities.
“You’re holding someone back there,” said Kara, pointing to the door at the back of the room, a cocky grin on her face. “Either you let them go without issue, or I fight through you and take them anyway.”
Without hesitation, a shot was fired directly at Kara’s face, the bullet speeding through the air, only to come to a complete stop against her cheek, ricocheting off and embedding itself in the wall to her left.
“I did warn you,” Kara said, shrugging her shoulders as she let out a quick puff of air, throwing two of the four men — as well as various shelves and fishing products — across the room.
Shifting to an ethereal form, using latent dream energy from the world around her, Dreamer walked through the back walls of the shop, seeing the three remaining men guarding their victim. Shouts of shock arose from one before Nia returned to corporeality as she threw her arm in his direction, snapping her fingers to send a sparkling flow of dream energy through his eyes and forcing him asleep standing up.
Forcing a nightmare, Nia proceeded to pry a vicious beast of darkness from the sleeper’s dream, equipped with sharp, blade-like claws and gnarly teeth. An ear piercing roar erupted from its throat, breeding fear in the minds of the other two men, who immediately dropped their weapons, backing away in fear as the beast approached.
With the twist of her hand, each of the light bulbs in the room were destroyed, leaving the room pitch black, eliciting terrified screams from her prey. Pulling the victim from their chair, Nia returned to ethereal form to get them out of the building, at the same time dissipating the illusory beast.
Kara dispatched her own remaining opponents easily, barely expending much energy to incapacitate the two last men. Meeting Dreamer outside of the shop, Kara quickly unbound the man with her incredible strength and helped him sit on a bench nearby.
“Are you alright?” asked Nia, kneeling in front of him.
“Y-Yeah, I’m…” began the man, shuddering as he wiped his eyes. “I’m okay.” He took a deep breath, running a hand down his face before looking up at Dreamer. Every emotion seemed to leave his face as he realised just who was in front of him. “You–?!”
“Me?” asked Nia, sharing a confused glance with Kara. “Do I know you?”
“Dream Girl, right?” asked the man, leaning away from her as she nodded with a crooked face. “You’re supposed to be dead.” Without warning, the man pushed Dreamer back, causing her to lose balance and fall on her rear as the man stood and began running down the street, slowed significantly by the limp caused by his captors.
Nia stood, dusting herself off, and furrowed her brow, watching him slowly run down the street.
“Think he knows something?” Kara asked incredulously, her eyes heating up slowly.
“Probably,” said Nia, her demeanour shifted down to sorrow. She learned more about who the Nia Nal of this earth was — a hero — and more seemed to be revealed of just who this world had lost.
With a brilliant flash of light, Kara’s eyes emitted a long, bright magenta beam of light that fried the ground around the man’s feet, sending him cowering to the ground, shouting various expletives in fear and anger.
“Listen, man,” Nia said as she and Kara approached him. “We just want to know what happened to me.”
“Shouldn’t you know?” He shouted in response, slowly crawling back away from them. “It’s you who’s supposed to be dead!”
“Well, it’s not that easy,” Dreamer replied. “I just need to know who did it.”
“I don’t know!” He shouted, turning onto his stomach to crawl. “I don’t know nothing!”
“The longer this goes on, the more frustrated we get,” Nia continued. “I don’t think you want to find out how strong Kryptonians are.” Kara flashed Nia a puzzled look, her turn to furrow her brow, to which Nia simply responded by shrugging her shoulders.
“A Kryptonian?” he muttered under his breath quickly, “Fine!” Turning back over, he looked up at Dreamer and Kara, his lower lip quivering, and sighed. “I don’t know who did it, but I heard — heard — that my boss, Johnny, was involved somehow.”
“How?” Nia asked.
“I don’t know! I’m not his priest!” The man shouted. “His name’s Johnny Reb, he hangs out on the east side, in a dive called Al’s.” Nia nodded, satisfied with the information, and turned away.
“Stay out of trouble!” Kara called out as she followed behind her friend, leaving the man in the street.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been in a dive bar before,” said Kara as she and Nia arrived out front of Al’s, hidden behind a warehouse on the outskirts of National City. While Nia had dissipated the form of her suit, Kara was still equipped in her simple pod suit, sticking out more than a sore thumb.
“Yeah, that’s clear,” said Nia, clearly agitated. Her hands never stopped moving, constantly twiddling her thumbs or fidgeting with a set of keys. “Look, stay close and I can dream you up some clothes to wear. You really don’t fit the vibes with this getup.” Kara tilted her head, wincing slightly as she began listening to her friend’s heartbeat, still trying to filter out the extra noise of the world.
“You alright?” she asked. “Your heart’s going crazy.”
“I’m fine,” Nia dismissed her, trying to turn and walk up to the door to knock and deliver the passcode.
“Nia…” Kara began, reaching out for Nia’s arm.
“I’m scared,” Nia said suddenly, shaking Kara’s hand away. “It’s not like finding my own murderer is a fun romp around town. I’m happy to have you here, but actually being here isn’t something I ever wanted to face.”
“What do you mean?” Kara asked.
“I mean that I could always just say that I couldn’t find any leads, or play it off like it’s some complex mystery, but even just the thought of coming face-to-face with someone who knew how I died on this world is terrifying.” Kara remained silent as Nia spoke, unsure of what to say.
Kara lost her planet, but she always had herself, her mind, and her experiences. Nia had every aspect of herself erased when she changed universes, thrown into a world where, not only was her equivalent self dead, but nothing she knew ever existed as she knew it.
“I know we’ve both lost everything we held dear,” Kara began, her voice soft. Nia took a deep breath. “But there’s room for closure here, Nia. You can set things right, find out what happened and finally move on. I can’t… and I really want to help you find your way. We just have to keep moving forward.” With a deep sigh, Nia nodded.
“Yeah,” she said solemnly. “Yeah, you’re right.” There were no more words from the woman as she moved toward the door, waving her hand in front of Kara to form an illusory glossy leather jacket over her torso, skinny jeans, and a pair of leather boots. “Let’s go.”
submitted by ClaraEclair to DCNext [link] [comments]
KARA: DAUGHTER OF KRYPTON
In The DreamerIssue Seven: First Day
Written by ClaraEclair
Edited by AdamantAce
<< < Previous Issue Next Issue > Coming Next Month
“So, if you’re really going to go through with this, you’re going to need a costume,” said Nia Nal, standing in front of Kara within the Fortress of Solitude. Kara furrowed her brow.
“Why?” she asked.
“Well, one; so you’re easily recognizable,” Nia continued. “And two; I don’t think wearing a space suit like that—” she pointed toward Kara’s one-piece space suit that she had been wearing since arriving on Earth, “—is going to cut it in terms of iconography.”
“But it’s comfortable,” Kara replied, looking down at herself. “I don’t see why I need to have some sort of ‘super’ suit.”
“Kara, has that suit you’re wearing ever been washed?” Nia asked, giving an accusatory look.
“I shower!” Kara exclaimed in response, crossing her arms.
“Yeah, I asked about whether the suit’s been washed,” Nia said, tilting her head slightly, raising her eyebrows. Kara remained silent. “Right, so get on that later, first—”
“Why do I even need something like this anyway?” asked Kara once more. “Is there some quirk in human biology that prevents you from remembering my face or, I don’t know, my powers?” Nia sighed. “I see the point you’re making, but if I’m helping people, isn’t that the point?”
“Why not both?” Nia asked, shrugging her shoulders. “You can be both immediately recognizable and focus on helping people. Why don’t we start with something simple? I know you don’t want to be Superwoman or have any moniker, but why don’t you wear something with your family crest on it?”
“That was the plan,” Kara interjected.
“Perfect, I can make—” Nia paused as she looked down at Kara, who was slowly tapping away at the crest of the House of El on the chest of her space suit, a smug expression on her face. Nia sighed. “Alright, fine,” Nia conceded, “wear it. Just wash it first, please.” With a self-satisfied smirk, Kara stood from her seat and walked toward the nearest wash room, leaving Nia behind.
Nia’s own suit was constructed out of pure Dream Energy, a seemingly mythical substance that only she seemed able to exert control over. Every so often she saw an ominous face on the back of her eyes, but she could never make out any features beyond pitch black eyes reflecting the universe back at her. All memories of the face save those piercing eyes disappeared from her mind the moment her eyes would open.
“What do you hear?” asked Nia, looking up at Kara, who was floating a few metres above the skyscraper they both stood upon. Kara’s face seemed in a permanent wince, dozens of thousands of individual sounds of a city containing millions of citizens.
“There’s… everything,” Kara said, her voice strained against the effort of trying to filter every minutiae of the world around her. “I can’t tell anything apart.”
“That’s alright,” Nia said, her voice soft. “Take your time. If you need help, I can–”
“No!” Kara nearly shouted, interrupting the oneiromancer. “I can do it… I just need to focus.” Nia nodded without words, watching the Kryptonian closely, prepared to soften the psychic blow if anything were to change. “I can… someone’s in trouble…”
“Can you tell where they are?” Nia asked excitedly, prepared to travel anywhere the two would be needed.
“I–” Kara began, her voice breaking as the cacophony of sound breached her mind, obscuring the calls for help she had only barely caught. Someone was in trouble, and yet they were left to suffer simply because Kara could not differentiate simple sounds. Her head pounded, as if she were being hit repeatedly by a hammer, enough to feel it in her jaw, resonating through her body and rattling in her knuckles. “I can’t–!”
Nia tried once again, interrupted a second time by the struggling woman floating above her. “Kara, I can–!”
“No!” Kara shouted once more, pushing through the pain as best she could, desperately searching for the voice. High pitched shouting, low rumbling of cars and planes, barking dogs, and pens scraping paper infiltrated her mind before the sound of a man crying out for help finally arose through the static of life, returning to her senses just enough for– “That way!” Kara said quickly, pointing eastward, toward the pacific coast.
Quickly throwing her hands over her ears as she floated back down toward the roof, Kara took a series of long, deep, instinctual breaths.
Rao help me, I can’t do this, she thought to herself, forcing her eyes shut. A few moments passed before she noticed Nia’s gentle hand on her shoulder, pulling her back to reality. Rao, be my guide. Mordo, my strength. Telle, my mind.
“Are you okay?” Asked Nia, concern in her voice. “If you need to sit out…”
“No,” Kara interrupted her once more, shaking her head harshly as she removed her hands from her ears and looked toward the direction she had pointed to. “I can do it.”
Without further words, Kara shot into the sky, ripping through the air toward her destination.
As Kara touched down outside of the coastal fishing shop, Nia appeared next to her, discomfort clear on her face.
“You’re lucky that rats dream, Kara,” she groaned, wiping her forehead. “But I’d rather avoid travelling through the dreams of animals.”
“Sorry, I…” Kara began, her turn to be interrupted.
“It’s fine,” said Dreamer, looking forward to the shop, pointing a quick finger at it. “That’s the place?” Kara nodded.
“There was a metallic echo in his voice, I think he’s in some sort of cellar or something,” said Kara, using her alternate vision to scan the building. “There are a lot of people in there, more than six.”
“How do you want to do this?” Nia asked, looking over at Kara, curious as to how she would approach the situation.
“We can’t let anyone get hurt,” Kara said. “We need to get the person in trouble out of there as fast as possible. It looks like they’re in a chair, hands tied behind their back. Most of the people inside are standing in a circle around them, a few are in different rooms.”
“You wanna head in the front and distract them while I project into the room and get whoever’s in trouble out of there?” Nia asked.
“That works for me,” Kara responded, slowly making her way toward the front of the shop. It was an innocent looking building, filled with fishing tackle and other supplies, lined on numerous shelves and clothes racks. Entering was easy enough, the door was unlocked and none of the men inside seemed to be looking that way.
Crouching behind a shelf, Kara took a moment to think of how she would approach her distraction.
Looking across the room, the opposite side of the entrance, Kara pressed her fingers together and, using her newfound super strength, snapped her fingers so tightly, so powerfully, that the sound began inaudible, dissipating enough as it travelled to form the sound on the other side of the building.
One of the men muttered to themselves after his head shot toward the entrance, unsure of what would have caused the sound. Cautious as he approached, he pulled a pistol from his waist and prepared to fire as he turned around a shelf, looking at the vending machine across from Kara. The moment he stepped out in front of her, she zipped forward, palming him harshly, sending him flying across the store, colliding with the vending machine.
The loud noise gave Nia the signal she needed, examining the back room for the very moment that the hostage-takers cleared out. The noise Kara was causing at the front of the shop was more than enough to catch their attention, however not all of them left. Dreamer could handle fighting three men more than well enough.
Kara found herself surrounded by four men, aiming weapons at her, yet visibly nervous. She had thrown their friend multiple feet across the shop, and even then, they didn’t know her true capabilities.
“You’re holding someone back there,” said Kara, pointing to the door at the back of the room, a cocky grin on her face. “Either you let them go without issue, or I fight through you and take them anyway.”
Without hesitation, a shot was fired directly at Kara’s face, the bullet speeding through the air, only to come to a complete stop against her cheek, ricocheting off and embedding itself in the wall to her left.
“I did warn you,” Kara said, shrugging her shoulders as she let out a quick puff of air, throwing two of the four men — as well as various shelves and fishing products — across the room.
Shifting to an ethereal form, using latent dream energy from the world around her, Dreamer walked through the back walls of the shop, seeing the three remaining men guarding their victim. Shouts of shock arose from one before Nia returned to corporeality as she threw her arm in his direction, snapping her fingers to send a sparkling flow of dream energy through his eyes and forcing him asleep standing up.
Forcing a nightmare, Nia proceeded to pry a vicious beast of darkness from the sleeper’s dream, equipped with sharp, blade-like claws and gnarly teeth. An ear piercing roar erupted from its throat, breeding fear in the minds of the other two men, who immediately dropped their weapons, backing away in fear as the beast approached.
With the twist of her hand, each of the light bulbs in the room were destroyed, leaving the room pitch black, eliciting terrified screams from her prey. Pulling the victim from their chair, Nia returned to ethereal form to get them out of the building, at the same time dissipating the illusory beast.
Kara dispatched her own remaining opponents easily, barely expending much energy to incapacitate the two last men. Meeting Dreamer outside of the shop, Kara quickly unbound the man with her incredible strength and helped him sit on a bench nearby.
“Are you alright?” asked Nia, kneeling in front of him.
“Y-Yeah, I’m…” began the man, shuddering as he wiped his eyes. “I’m okay.” He took a deep breath, running a hand down his face before looking up at Dreamer. Every emotion seemed to leave his face as he realised just who was in front of him. “You–?!”
“Me?” asked Nia, sharing a confused glance with Kara. “Do I know you?”
“Dream Girl, right?” asked the man, leaning away from her as she nodded with a crooked face. “You’re supposed to be dead.” Without warning, the man pushed Dreamer back, causing her to lose balance and fall on her rear as the man stood and began running down the street, slowed significantly by the limp caused by his captors.
Nia stood, dusting herself off, and furrowed her brow, watching him slowly run down the street.
“Think he knows something?” Kara asked incredulously, her eyes heating up slowly.
“Probably,” said Nia, her demeanour shifted down to sorrow. She learned more about who the Nia Nal of this earth was — a hero — and more seemed to be revealed of just who this world had lost.
With a brilliant flash of light, Kara’s eyes emitted a long, bright magenta beam of light that fried the ground around the man’s feet, sending him cowering to the ground, shouting various expletives in fear and anger.
“Listen, man,” Nia said as she and Kara approached him. “We just want to know what happened to me.”
“Shouldn’t you know?” He shouted in response, slowly crawling back away from them. “It’s you who’s supposed to be dead!”
“Well, it’s not that easy,” Dreamer replied. “I just need to know who did it.”
“I don’t know!” He shouted, turning onto his stomach to crawl. “I don’t know nothing!”
“The longer this goes on, the more frustrated we get,” Nia continued. “I don’t think you want to find out how strong Kryptonians are.” Kara flashed Nia a puzzled look, her turn to furrow her brow, to which Nia simply responded by shrugging her shoulders.
“A Kryptonian?” he muttered under his breath quickly, “Fine!” Turning back over, he looked up at Dreamer and Kara, his lower lip quivering, and sighed. “I don’t know who did it, but I heard — heard — that my boss, Johnny, was involved somehow.”
“How?” Nia asked.
“I don’t know! I’m not his priest!” The man shouted. “His name’s Johnny Reb, he hangs out on the east side, in a dive called Al’s.” Nia nodded, satisfied with the information, and turned away.
“Stay out of trouble!” Kara called out as she followed behind her friend, leaving the man in the street.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been in a dive bar before,” said Kara as she and Nia arrived out front of Al’s, hidden behind a warehouse on the outskirts of National City. While Nia had dissipated the form of her suit, Kara was still equipped in her simple pod suit, sticking out more than a sore thumb.
“Yeah, that’s clear,” said Nia, clearly agitated. Her hands never stopped moving, constantly twiddling her thumbs or fidgeting with a set of keys. “Look, stay close and I can dream you up some clothes to wear. You really don’t fit the vibes with this getup.” Kara tilted her head, wincing slightly as she began listening to her friend’s heartbeat, still trying to filter out the extra noise of the world.
“You alright?” she asked. “Your heart’s going crazy.”
“I’m fine,” Nia dismissed her, trying to turn and walk up to the door to knock and deliver the passcode.
“Nia…” Kara began, reaching out for Nia’s arm.
“I’m scared,” Nia said suddenly, shaking Kara’s hand away. “It’s not like finding my own murderer is a fun romp around town. I’m happy to have you here, but actually being here isn’t something I ever wanted to face.”
“What do you mean?” Kara asked.
“I mean that I could always just say that I couldn’t find any leads, or play it off like it’s some complex mystery, but even just the thought of coming face-to-face with someone who knew how I died on this world is terrifying.” Kara remained silent as Nia spoke, unsure of what to say.
Kara lost her planet, but she always had herself, her mind, and her experiences. Nia had every aspect of herself erased when she changed universes, thrown into a world where, not only was her equivalent self dead, but nothing she knew ever existed as she knew it.
“I know we’ve both lost everything we held dear,” Kara began, her voice soft. Nia took a deep breath. “But there’s room for closure here, Nia. You can set things right, find out what happened and finally move on. I can’t… and I really want to help you find your way. We just have to keep moving forward.” With a deep sigh, Nia nodded.
“Yeah,” she said solemnly. “Yeah, you’re right.” There were no more words from the woman as she moved toward the door, waving her hand in front of Kara to form an illusory glossy leather jacket over her torso, skinny jeans, and a pair of leather boots. “Let’s go.”
2023.06.07 21:32 Miserable-Rice5733 Husband developing BDD?
My husband has always been heavier. We’ve know each other since we were kids. He gained a lot of weight after high school and the highest he ever was he got to 425 last year. He started doing low carb and really making an effort in January of this year to lose weight and get healthier when his blood work came back saying pre diabetic.
Last weight check he was 381 and that was in April.
He asked me to feel his back yesterday because he felt stronger after a gym session and felt like he worked harder than normal. I said it does feel firmer but the left side feels a little softer. I asked if he was favoring his right side. He said he didn’t think so.
This morning he texts me and says I was right his whole right side is weaker, even his arms and legs. He’s always had a really rough time with body image. And lately if he’s feeling a little bloated or doesn’t stick to low carb he is convinced he has gained the weight back and he’s fat and gross and he was “bad” for eating off diet.
We bought some new clothes because all his old clothes are to big now and when they got washed they shrank a little. He jumped to he gained the weight back. If he misses the gym for to many days he spirals and feels so disgusted with himself and becomes anxious and insecure.
He looks at his body in the mirror, mentioning all the things that are to big or things he needs to “fix”.
I’m really worried for his mental health. He was in therapy but it didn’t work out with that therapist and it got confusing for him to get another so he gave up but he was doing much better when he was doing it.
He said he’s gonna try again to get a therapist and get back into talk therapy.
How can I help him? We have an 8MO and he is on his moms gym membership and they don’t allow guests so I can’t work out with him. I try to support him with cooking and shopping low carb. I praise him and encourage and support him as much as I can.
What else can I do? What should I avoid doing or saying?
There’s no doubt he needs to get healthier but I’m afraid that in the process he is going to get very negatively focused on his body. Instead of seeing the progress he will nitpick and only see the things he feels need to be “fixed”
I love him the way he is and I always have. I’m gonna be 27 in august, we’ve know each other for 14, almost 15 years! I loved him then. I love him now. At every weight and stage. I do what I know when it comes to support and encouragement but for something like this is there a better way? Is there something I could be doing better?
submitted by Miserable-Rice5733 to BodyDysmorphia [link] [comments]
Last weight check he was 381 and that was in April.
He asked me to feel his back yesterday because he felt stronger after a gym session and felt like he worked harder than normal. I said it does feel firmer but the left side feels a little softer. I asked if he was favoring his right side. He said he didn’t think so.
This morning he texts me and says I was right his whole right side is weaker, even his arms and legs. He’s always had a really rough time with body image. And lately if he’s feeling a little bloated or doesn’t stick to low carb he is convinced he has gained the weight back and he’s fat and gross and he was “bad” for eating off diet.
We bought some new clothes because all his old clothes are to big now and when they got washed they shrank a little. He jumped to he gained the weight back. If he misses the gym for to many days he spirals and feels so disgusted with himself and becomes anxious and insecure.
He looks at his body in the mirror, mentioning all the things that are to big or things he needs to “fix”.
I’m really worried for his mental health. He was in therapy but it didn’t work out with that therapist and it got confusing for him to get another so he gave up but he was doing much better when he was doing it.
He said he’s gonna try again to get a therapist and get back into talk therapy.
How can I help him? We have an 8MO and he is on his moms gym membership and they don’t allow guests so I can’t work out with him. I try to support him with cooking and shopping low carb. I praise him and encourage and support him as much as I can.
What else can I do? What should I avoid doing or saying?
There’s no doubt he needs to get healthier but I’m afraid that in the process he is going to get very negatively focused on his body. Instead of seeing the progress he will nitpick and only see the things he feels need to be “fixed”
I love him the way he is and I always have. I’m gonna be 27 in august, we’ve know each other for 14, almost 15 years! I loved him then. I love him now. At every weight and stage. I do what I know when it comes to support and encouragement but for something like this is there a better way? Is there something I could be doing better?
2023.06.07 20:50 omnisid Calories in pizza
A pizza from a local shop has, for example, the following pizza: chicken breast, fresh tomatoes, ranch, mozzarella, ham, granulated garlic.
Their estimate per 100 grams is 125.99 kcal, with 10.7 grams of protein, 8.33 grams of fat and 27.04 grams of carbs.
Not sure if this matters but the whole pizza is advertised as 660 gr +-50gr. My question is regarding the composition of the pizza vs the kcal per 100 grams. With protein and carbs going at around 4 calories per gram and fat going at 9 calories, does that sound right? My estimate per 100 grams is 225.
submitted by omnisid to caloriecount [link] [comments]
Their estimate per 100 grams is 125.99 kcal, with 10.7 grams of protein, 8.33 grams of fat and 27.04 grams of carbs.
Not sure if this matters but the whole pizza is advertised as 660 gr +-50gr. My question is regarding the composition of the pizza vs the kcal per 100 grams. With protein and carbs going at around 4 calories per gram and fat going at 9 calories, does that sound right? My estimate per 100 grams is 225.
2023.06.07 19:53 Necrolancer96 Summoning Kobolds At Midnight: A Tale of Suburbia & Sorcery. 87
Chapter LXXXVII
Somewhere, West Virginia, USA.
"Well, there goes the neighborhood." Agent Smith stated as him, Agent Doe, and everyone else in town, watched the migration of people stream into the small town as the sun hit the horizon.
They looked like a bunch of extras to Lord of the Rings. People with pointed ears and flowing robes. People short and stout and with thick beards with bands of gold and silver woven into them. Shorter people that spoke in high-pitched nasally voices and large glasses. There were even people dressed in what looked like giant turtle suits.
Of course that's what the townsfolk would think. To the two Agents it was a very real possibility that these people came from another world like the lizard people, greenskins, and the halflings.
"So much for my report being up-to-date." Agent Smith sighed as he went inside and burned the report he had spent so much time typing out. As he cleaned up the ashes the hotel phone rang.
Johnathan looked between the phone and Agent Smith with a look of curiosity as the Agent seemed greatly hesitant to answer. Agent Smith looked at Johnathan as the phone continued to ring. He walked over and disconnected the line to the phone and it went silent. For a second.
"Damn." Smith cursed as the disconnected phone rang once more despite there being no connection.
He picked up the phone and placed it to his ear. He bit back another curse as the voice of the Director came through.
"Agent Smith."
"Director."
"How is the investigation coming along?" She asked.
"Well, until about a few minutes ago it was going pretty smoothly and quietly."
"Oh? And what, pray tell, changed?"
"I'd tell you but if you're calling then that means you already know."
"Of course I already know. I'm just disappointed it came from our sources in the State Government and not my two field agents."
"What is the State going to do?"
"They're going to send the 111th Engineer Brigade, and the 77th Brigade Troop Command."
"All of them?!"
"What did you expect? The population of some small town in the middle of nowhere just became the largest in the State in a single day. They're even sending the 35th."
Smith tapped his foot in thought.
"Can we stop them? Or at the very least make it so they don't send damn near the entire National Guard of West Virginia?"
"No can do Agent. Even if we had caught this before the Governor's office did, we still would've sent troops in. This became top priority the second a large number of people came over."
"Well what about leaks? We can't keep the lid on this with so many showing up."
"We'll be sending our own task force. Officially they are there as "Federal Oversight". In actuality they are there to aid you in your investigation as well as limit leaks from the National Guard."
"So there isn't anything we can do to stop them from showing up en masse?"
"Unfortunately no. Aerial recon is being deployed to "substantiate" the claim. But seventy-thousand people showing up out of nowhere isn't something to take lightly. When they see that there are indeed an entire city's worth of people, then they will send the rest. But that will be a few days, a week at most. Once they verify, they'll be getting crash courses in crisis response and begin mobilization."
"What about the rest of the Federal Government?"
"As far as the State is aware WE are the Federal response. And we are going to keep it that way."
Smith didn't like this, not one bit. It was hard enough doing their job quietly in even a small town like this. Now they had to worry about not only a population the size of medieval Venice, but now the National Guard.
"What if we-"
"No, Agent Smith."
"We could do it you know?"
"Not in the time we have nor the volume. You should know that disappearing an entire town is hard enough, doing it to a city's worth of people is harder to not only pull off but harder to sell to the public."
Smith huffed in frustration.
"So what's the new mission?"
"The same as it was before. Only this time, you'll be getting a team to back you up. Set up and monitor everything that happens. Keep the NG from getting too close to the less explainable creatures and people. ESPECIALLY keep them away from Entity APL-1."
"You mean-"
"I will not use that ludicrous name! It is a dangerous entity! Not a pet!"
Smith chuckled a bit.
"Since we're talking, would you like my report up till today?"
The Director sighed.
"Very well. Only because this is a secure way of communicating."
So Smith gave the Director his report. Jeb and the kobolds. Morty and the greenskins. The halflings. All of it. There was a pause as the Director processed the information. No doubt already sending various people about to adjust to the new information.
"Is that all you have to report Agent Smith?"
"Yes Ma'am."
"Good, continue as planned until our team arrives then procced from there."
"Yes Ma'am."
"And don't call me Ma'am. Makes me sound old."
"You are old."
Smith heard the Director guffaw.
"And you aren't?! Quit being insubordinate and get back to work Agent Smith."
"Yes Ma-"
CLICK
"Rude old bitty." Smith quipped playfully as he set the dead phone back on its base.
Johnathan just stared at Smith.
"How-"
"Trade secret Agent Doe. You'll find out when you're older. In the mean time. Its business as usual until reinforcements arrive. So go pull up a chair and observe." Smith stated as he dragged one of the worn hotel chairs out and sat on it while he watched the sheer number of people walking about along the main street of the town.
-----
Time must be different here than back home, because that was NOT "20 minutes", thought the Duchess as she entered the town the deputy had pointed out to her. She and her people were drained. Mentally, physically, and emotionally.
This worlds sun was past its peak when they came to this world. Now it was just nearing the horizon to the west as they reached the town. The chill air didn't help, especially the turtle people from the isles. The moderately sized enclave that live- HAD lived in Daele grumbled and groaned the whole walk. Both the temperature difference and the long journey didn't agree with them.
Everyone had dressed for a spring that, just a few hours ago, they were sure they weren't going to see. Now it felt like they had missed it entirely! But the sight was still something to behold.
Sure it wasn't a grand city like Daele... was. But it was still shelter, and it was still a wonder to see. Buildings made of faded red brick or what looked like solid stone and glass. A road made from a faded black stone. Lights that didn't look like they needed fire. Not to mention the multitude of metal carriages about! She couldn't see any horses in sight and she wondered how they were pulled.
A sentiment shared by many, but especially of Dylan. He was looking around the new town with wide eyes. Scribbling on his notepad furiously as his eyes darted back and forth over everything new they saw. He wasn't the only one shocked and awed. Though some looked less than impressed by the simple, even rough, conditions of the town.
They weren't sure where to go, but seeing a slightly taller white colored building decided to head there. Perhaps that was where they could inquire with whoever the ruler was, the Duchess thought.
As they neared City Hall, the Duchess glanced about and observed the people of the town. Everyone she saw was human, many were old and tired looking. But even the younger people she saw had a tired and worn look on their face. These looks barely changed as they watched and stared at the migration.
There were no offers of support or aid from the townsfolk. Judging from the condition of the town, they probably didn't have much for themselves let alone her people, she thought sadly. Her honor guard stayed close to her as they made their way through the street.
As she reached the steps of City Hall a commotion was heard and a portly man, a gangly nervous looking man, and several other, equally rounded, men shuffled out and greeted her. Or what might pass for a greeting around here.
"Who are you and what is going on here?!"
The nervous looking man stuttered a response.
"T-t-t-the Sh-sh-sheriff l-l-l-l-"
"Cease your infernal stuttering Greg and get to the point!" The Mayor snapped.
"The point is Gerald is that these people arrived looking for shelter." The Sheriff stated as he climbed the stairs, his two deputies flanking him.
The Mayor cast a suspicious eye on the sea of people that filled out one of the few roads Somewhere had. They were starting to coalesce around City Hall as they tried to get close enough to hear what was happening. Though many were still amassed at the edge of town where the town ended and the landscape changed to that of fields and hills.
"Oh are they now? Pray tell how we are supposed to shelter them Sheriff? How are we supposed to feed them? Hmm? Did you think of that before inviting these people to our town?"
"You're right Mayor. Our town is under enough stress without adding more people we can't take care of." The Sheriff answered plainly.
"There we have it! You all will just have to-"
"That's why I called the Governor and he's sending the National Guard to aid both the town and these poor people."
"YOU WHAT!?" The Mayor rounded on the Sheriff so fast his jowls still shook from the motion.
The Sheriff stepped up to the Mayor.
"We needed help before these people showed up. Now we DESPERATLY need help!"
"So you call the Governor!?! Are you mad!?"
"No! I care about this town and I'm not going to see it die because you're too scared of the past!"
"There's a damn good reason we are and you know it!" The Mayor hissed.
As the Mayor and the Sheriff bickered, the Duchess, flanked by two of the Delta Guard, walked up the steps and bowed to the two men. The heavily armed and armored men made the councilmen and deputies nervous, causing the latter to put their hands on their holsters.
"I am sorry if our presence puts too much strain on your town. If need be we will leave at first light."
"Good! You can-"
"STAY! We are good and honest folk and we won't turn away those in need!"
"If it helps alleviate your burden. We do have some wealth that we still retain. We can donate some as thanks for your hospitality."
The Mayor, and councilmen, perked up at that.
"Wealth you say?"
The Duchess touched a hand to a ornate necklace she had. Silver and aquamarine. She unclasped it and held it out.
"I could not ask my people to do what I would not. So accept this as my thanks."
The Mayor's eyes went wide and he licked his lips as he reached a fat hand out to snatch up the exquisite jewelry. But he was stopped by the Sheriff who stood between the necklace and his meaty hands. The Delta Guard tensed at the movement put did no more once it was apparent it wasn't a threatening motion.
"That isn't necessary. If you wish to show thanks then please. Enjoy what the town has to offer. Food, a few hotels and apartments you and yours can stay in and any other services and amenities you find. Please. If you wish to offer thanks, then offer it to the people of the town itself."
The Duchess smiled and withdrew the necklace before bowing.
"Thank you for your hospitality. Me and my people will do our utmost to repay it and do our best to be civil guests in your town!"
"Of course! If need be there are other places that might be able to shelter your people. We have some space at the station. The railyard probably wouldn't say no to housing some of your people. As I said, we have room and board in several parts of town that wouldn't say no to any new business!"
The Sheriff and the Mayor bickered quietly while the Duchess turned to address her people.
"Good people of Daele! We have come far from our home by the sea and have faced many hardships in these past weeks! But now the people here have been generous enough to offer us shelter! Offer us Sanctuary! They only ask that we reward that kindness at the many shops and vendors around the town! So go and find a place to rest and fill your bellies and get warm!"
With that, the great flood of people murmured curiously and excitedly as they formed various groups and began to explore the town as the message was carried through the mass of bodies. As the Duchess watched, many group heads came to her.
The scions of the dwarven banking clans and the remnants of the nobility, elvish and human, walked up to join her. As did the heads of the various merchant houses, smithy and artisan guilds. Even Alban pulled Dylan away from running off to fulfill his duty as the leader, and half, of the Artificers Guild. The Great Sage of the tortle enclave grunted as she walked over with the rest of the leaders before sitting down on the cool grass nearby with a relieved sigh.
"What're we ta do now yer Ladyship?" One of the dwarves asked as he ran a bejeweled hand over his golden beard that was woven with emerald imbedded silver bands.
"We do as I stated. We find places to rest and recover from our journey. Tomorrow we will meet again with the leaders of the town and work out the rest."
One of the elves sniffed his hawkish nose as he gazed at the town.
"Are we really to stay in such a place so... pedestrian?"
"We aren't really in a position to argue my Lord. If it is not to your liking then you are free to keep walking in hopes of finding someplace more suited to your tastes."
The elf sniffed indignantly but remained where he was. One of the merchants spoke next.
"What should we do then? We have no place to work our trades."
The other merchants and various guild leaders nodded in affirmation.
"For tonight, just find food and shelter. I'm sure that these people will have need of, and greatly appreciate, your work. As I have stated already. Food and shelter first. Everything else will be settled tomorrow."
The leaders all grumbled and murmured but did little else as they split off to find their own places of rest. The Great Sage groaning and grumbling as she forced herself to stand and return to her people. Though the dwarves and Dylan walked over to the Sheriff and Mayor.
"Excuse me lad? What were tha' 'bout a railyard?"
The Sheriff broke the mutual glaring between him and the Mayor and turned to the stout man.
"The railyard. Its on the north of town. Follow the main road here and take a left at the library. Can't miss it."
"Well thank ye lad. But uhm? What is a railyard?"
"Well, its a place where trains are stored and maintained, its also where freight from our town is, or was, shipped out of and to the rest of the country."
The dwarves hummed in understanding.
"One last question lad. What is a train?"
[First] [Prev] [Next]
submitted by Necrolancer96 to HFY [link] [comments]
Somewhere, West Virginia, USA.
"Well, there goes the neighborhood." Agent Smith stated as him, Agent Doe, and everyone else in town, watched the migration of people stream into the small town as the sun hit the horizon.
They looked like a bunch of extras to Lord of the Rings. People with pointed ears and flowing robes. People short and stout and with thick beards with bands of gold and silver woven into them. Shorter people that spoke in high-pitched nasally voices and large glasses. There were even people dressed in what looked like giant turtle suits.
Of course that's what the townsfolk would think. To the two Agents it was a very real possibility that these people came from another world like the lizard people, greenskins, and the halflings.
"So much for my report being up-to-date." Agent Smith sighed as he went inside and burned the report he had spent so much time typing out. As he cleaned up the ashes the hotel phone rang.
Johnathan looked between the phone and Agent Smith with a look of curiosity as the Agent seemed greatly hesitant to answer. Agent Smith looked at Johnathan as the phone continued to ring. He walked over and disconnected the line to the phone and it went silent. For a second.
"Damn." Smith cursed as the disconnected phone rang once more despite there being no connection.
He picked up the phone and placed it to his ear. He bit back another curse as the voice of the Director came through.
"Agent Smith."
"Director."
"How is the investigation coming along?" She asked.
"Well, until about a few minutes ago it was going pretty smoothly and quietly."
"Oh? And what, pray tell, changed?"
"I'd tell you but if you're calling then that means you already know."
"Of course I already know. I'm just disappointed it came from our sources in the State Government and not my two field agents."
"What is the State going to do?"
"They're going to send the 111th Engineer Brigade, and the 77th Brigade Troop Command."
"All of them?!"
"What did you expect? The population of some small town in the middle of nowhere just became the largest in the State in a single day. They're even sending the 35th."
Smith tapped his foot in thought.
"Can we stop them? Or at the very least make it so they don't send damn near the entire National Guard of West Virginia?"
"No can do Agent. Even if we had caught this before the Governor's office did, we still would've sent troops in. This became top priority the second a large number of people came over."
"Well what about leaks? We can't keep the lid on this with so many showing up."
"We'll be sending our own task force. Officially they are there as "Federal Oversight". In actuality they are there to aid you in your investigation as well as limit leaks from the National Guard."
"So there isn't anything we can do to stop them from showing up en masse?"
"Unfortunately no. Aerial recon is being deployed to "substantiate" the claim. But seventy-thousand people showing up out of nowhere isn't something to take lightly. When they see that there are indeed an entire city's worth of people, then they will send the rest. But that will be a few days, a week at most. Once they verify, they'll be getting crash courses in crisis response and begin mobilization."
"What about the rest of the Federal Government?"
"As far as the State is aware WE are the Federal response. And we are going to keep it that way."
Smith didn't like this, not one bit. It was hard enough doing their job quietly in even a small town like this. Now they had to worry about not only a population the size of medieval Venice, but now the National Guard.
"What if we-"
"No, Agent Smith."
"We could do it you know?"
"Not in the time we have nor the volume. You should know that disappearing an entire town is hard enough, doing it to a city's worth of people is harder to not only pull off but harder to sell to the public."
Smith huffed in frustration.
"So what's the new mission?"
"The same as it was before. Only this time, you'll be getting a team to back you up. Set up and monitor everything that happens. Keep the NG from getting too close to the less explainable creatures and people. ESPECIALLY keep them away from Entity APL-1."
"You mean-"
"I will not use that ludicrous name! It is a dangerous entity! Not a pet!"
Smith chuckled a bit.
"Since we're talking, would you like my report up till today?"
The Director sighed.
"Very well. Only because this is a secure way of communicating."
So Smith gave the Director his report. Jeb and the kobolds. Morty and the greenskins. The halflings. All of it. There was a pause as the Director processed the information. No doubt already sending various people about to adjust to the new information.
"Is that all you have to report Agent Smith?"
"Yes Ma'am."
"Good, continue as planned until our team arrives then procced from there."
"Yes Ma'am."
"And don't call me Ma'am. Makes me sound old."
"You are old."
Smith heard the Director guffaw.
"And you aren't?! Quit being insubordinate and get back to work Agent Smith."
"Yes Ma-"
CLICK
"Rude old bitty." Smith quipped playfully as he set the dead phone back on its base.
Johnathan just stared at Smith.
"How-"
"Trade secret Agent Doe. You'll find out when you're older. In the mean time. Its business as usual until reinforcements arrive. So go pull up a chair and observe." Smith stated as he dragged one of the worn hotel chairs out and sat on it while he watched the sheer number of people walking about along the main street of the town.
-----
Time must be different here than back home, because that was NOT "20 minutes", thought the Duchess as she entered the town the deputy had pointed out to her. She and her people were drained. Mentally, physically, and emotionally.
This worlds sun was past its peak when they came to this world. Now it was just nearing the horizon to the west as they reached the town. The chill air didn't help, especially the turtle people from the isles. The moderately sized enclave that live- HAD lived in Daele grumbled and groaned the whole walk. Both the temperature difference and the long journey didn't agree with them.
Everyone had dressed for a spring that, just a few hours ago, they were sure they weren't going to see. Now it felt like they had missed it entirely! But the sight was still something to behold.
Sure it wasn't a grand city like Daele... was. But it was still shelter, and it was still a wonder to see. Buildings made of faded red brick or what looked like solid stone and glass. A road made from a faded black stone. Lights that didn't look like they needed fire. Not to mention the multitude of metal carriages about! She couldn't see any horses in sight and she wondered how they were pulled.
A sentiment shared by many, but especially of Dylan. He was looking around the new town with wide eyes. Scribbling on his notepad furiously as his eyes darted back and forth over everything new they saw. He wasn't the only one shocked and awed. Though some looked less than impressed by the simple, even rough, conditions of the town.
They weren't sure where to go, but seeing a slightly taller white colored building decided to head there. Perhaps that was where they could inquire with whoever the ruler was, the Duchess thought.
As they neared City Hall, the Duchess glanced about and observed the people of the town. Everyone she saw was human, many were old and tired looking. But even the younger people she saw had a tired and worn look on their face. These looks barely changed as they watched and stared at the migration.
There were no offers of support or aid from the townsfolk. Judging from the condition of the town, they probably didn't have much for themselves let alone her people, she thought sadly. Her honor guard stayed close to her as they made their way through the street.
As she reached the steps of City Hall a commotion was heard and a portly man, a gangly nervous looking man, and several other, equally rounded, men shuffled out and greeted her. Or what might pass for a greeting around here.
"Who are you and what is going on here?!"
The nervous looking man stuttered a response.
"T-t-t-the Sh-sh-sheriff l-l-l-l-"
"Cease your infernal stuttering Greg and get to the point!" The Mayor snapped.
"The point is Gerald is that these people arrived looking for shelter." The Sheriff stated as he climbed the stairs, his two deputies flanking him.
The Mayor cast a suspicious eye on the sea of people that filled out one of the few roads Somewhere had. They were starting to coalesce around City Hall as they tried to get close enough to hear what was happening. Though many were still amassed at the edge of town where the town ended and the landscape changed to that of fields and hills.
"Oh are they now? Pray tell how we are supposed to shelter them Sheriff? How are we supposed to feed them? Hmm? Did you think of that before inviting these people to our town?"
"You're right Mayor. Our town is under enough stress without adding more people we can't take care of." The Sheriff answered plainly.
"There we have it! You all will just have to-"
"That's why I called the Governor and he's sending the National Guard to aid both the town and these poor people."
"YOU WHAT!?" The Mayor rounded on the Sheriff so fast his jowls still shook from the motion.
The Sheriff stepped up to the Mayor.
"We needed help before these people showed up. Now we DESPERATLY need help!"
"So you call the Governor!?! Are you mad!?"
"No! I care about this town and I'm not going to see it die because you're too scared of the past!"
"There's a damn good reason we are and you know it!" The Mayor hissed.
As the Mayor and the Sheriff bickered, the Duchess, flanked by two of the Delta Guard, walked up the steps and bowed to the two men. The heavily armed and armored men made the councilmen and deputies nervous, causing the latter to put their hands on their holsters.
"I am sorry if our presence puts too much strain on your town. If need be we will leave at first light."
"Good! You can-"
"STAY! We are good and honest folk and we won't turn away those in need!"
"If it helps alleviate your burden. We do have some wealth that we still retain. We can donate some as thanks for your hospitality."
The Mayor, and councilmen, perked up at that.
"Wealth you say?"
The Duchess touched a hand to a ornate necklace she had. Silver and aquamarine. She unclasped it and held it out.
"I could not ask my people to do what I would not. So accept this as my thanks."
The Mayor's eyes went wide and he licked his lips as he reached a fat hand out to snatch up the exquisite jewelry. But he was stopped by the Sheriff who stood between the necklace and his meaty hands. The Delta Guard tensed at the movement put did no more once it was apparent it wasn't a threatening motion.
"That isn't necessary. If you wish to show thanks then please. Enjoy what the town has to offer. Food, a few hotels and apartments you and yours can stay in and any other services and amenities you find. Please. If you wish to offer thanks, then offer it to the people of the town itself."
The Duchess smiled and withdrew the necklace before bowing.
"Thank you for your hospitality. Me and my people will do our utmost to repay it and do our best to be civil guests in your town!"
"Of course! If need be there are other places that might be able to shelter your people. We have some space at the station. The railyard probably wouldn't say no to housing some of your people. As I said, we have room and board in several parts of town that wouldn't say no to any new business!"
The Sheriff and the Mayor bickered quietly while the Duchess turned to address her people.
"Good people of Daele! We have come far from our home by the sea and have faced many hardships in these past weeks! But now the people here have been generous enough to offer us shelter! Offer us Sanctuary! They only ask that we reward that kindness at the many shops and vendors around the town! So go and find a place to rest and fill your bellies and get warm!"
With that, the great flood of people murmured curiously and excitedly as they formed various groups and began to explore the town as the message was carried through the mass of bodies. As the Duchess watched, many group heads came to her.
The scions of the dwarven banking clans and the remnants of the nobility, elvish and human, walked up to join her. As did the heads of the various merchant houses, smithy and artisan guilds. Even Alban pulled Dylan away from running off to fulfill his duty as the leader, and half, of the Artificers Guild. The Great Sage of the tortle enclave grunted as she walked over with the rest of the leaders before sitting down on the cool grass nearby with a relieved sigh.
"What're we ta do now yer Ladyship?" One of the dwarves asked as he ran a bejeweled hand over his golden beard that was woven with emerald imbedded silver bands.
"We do as I stated. We find places to rest and recover from our journey. Tomorrow we will meet again with the leaders of the town and work out the rest."
One of the elves sniffed his hawkish nose as he gazed at the town.
"Are we really to stay in such a place so... pedestrian?"
"We aren't really in a position to argue my Lord. If it is not to your liking then you are free to keep walking in hopes of finding someplace more suited to your tastes."
The elf sniffed indignantly but remained where he was. One of the merchants spoke next.
"What should we do then? We have no place to work our trades."
The other merchants and various guild leaders nodded in affirmation.
"For tonight, just find food and shelter. I'm sure that these people will have need of, and greatly appreciate, your work. As I have stated already. Food and shelter first. Everything else will be settled tomorrow."
The leaders all grumbled and murmured but did little else as they split off to find their own places of rest. The Great Sage groaning and grumbling as she forced herself to stand and return to her people. Though the dwarves and Dylan walked over to the Sheriff and Mayor.
"Excuse me lad? What were tha' 'bout a railyard?"
The Sheriff broke the mutual glaring between him and the Mayor and turned to the stout man.
"The railyard. Its on the north of town. Follow the main road here and take a left at the library. Can't miss it."
"Well thank ye lad. But uhm? What is a railyard?"
"Well, its a place where trains are stored and maintained, its also where freight from our town is, or was, shipped out of and to the rest of the country."
The dwarves hummed in understanding.
"One last question lad. What is a train?"
[First] [Prev] [Next]
2023.06.07 19:40 SansuRansu Selling or Trading. If Trading LF DBL with Ultra hit or ultra rose with a good team
 | submitted by SansuRansu to DokkanBattleTrades [link] [comments] |
2023.06.07 19:10 Boop108 Trying To Make Sense Of The Garbage Pail Kids Movie
This article contains a lot of film stills. For a fully illustrated version please click here - https://filmofileshideout.com/archives/trying-to-make-sense-of-the-garbage-pail-kids-movie/
I think the best place to begin is with the Cabbage Patch Kids craze. I was in junior high when the round-faced little dolls hit the shelves. They weren’t for “sale” but, for a “fee”, you could “adopt” one at a store. They came with adoption papers and everything. That was 1982. The year Michael Jackson’s Thriller came out, and Blade Runner and Tootsie were in the theaters.
Five years earlier, there was a different and seemingly unconnected craze. Everyone wanted Wacky Packs. They were stickers that were packaged in paper like baseball cards. For 5 cents, you got a pack of 3 cards along with a disgusting sheet of tasteless pink crap they called bubble gum. Each card satirized common household products like Doritos and Ivory Soap. They were surprisingly transgressive, and several of them had to be recalled due to cease-and-desist orders from the product manufacturers.
Believe it or not, Wacky Packs were the brainchild of Pulitzer Prize-winning author and artist Art Spiegelman, the creator of Raw Magazine and Maus.
Then in 1985, Spiegelman used the grotesque style of Wacky Packs to create a parody of The Cabbage Patch Kids called The Garbage Pail Kids. Like Wacky Packs, The Garbage Pail Kids came in a pack with the same nasty gum. Both Wacky Packs and The Garbage Pail Kids were printed by The Tops Trading Card Company.
Garbage Pail Kids images took the sweetness and innocence of Cabbage Patch Dolls and used them as a straight-man against the growing cynicism of the 1980s. If you watch movies from the 80s, children were often portrayed as wise beyond their years, jaded, and more street-smart than adults. Think of Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Back To The Future, and Punky Brewster.
At some point, Topps even came out with their own line of dolls. Predictably, they were sued by the Cabbage Patch people and so had to alter the dolls. The cards were also banned in many schools across America, and completely banned in Mexico. The television cartoon was kept off the airwaves for decades. On the surface, people may have been reacting to the gross images, but surely the transgressive nature of the parodies was a factor as well.
Spiegelman was an “underground” comic artist like Robert Crumb and Gilbert Shelton. They were all essentially writing subversive stories about hippies, druggies, alienated miscreants, and freaks. Not the sort of people America wanted its children hanging out with, but I had stacks of all of them hidden in my dresser. Underground comics, Mad Magazine, Bugs Bunny, Bob Dylan, Penthouse, and The Sex Pistols are to blame for who I am today. How’s that for a dating profile?
Then came the idea to turn The Garbage Pail Kids cards into a movie. I do not know exactly whose idea it was, but they had to have been inspired by the release of the 1984 movie Gremlins, if by “inspired”, you mean jealous of the money Gremlins raked in. Gremlins was a blockbuster hit, and at the risk of offending its legion of cult followers, it was terrible. Regardless, it wormed its way deep inside 80s culture. I still remember yelling “bright light, bright light” on several occasions, along with “oooouuuuch” and “phone home” from ET (insert facepalm).
Garbage Pail Kids is mostly a cheap retreading of the Gremlins movie. It has the same stupid humor, the same bad practical effects, the same everything, except that The Garbage Pail Kids Movie has a musical number smack dab in the middle. All of a sudden, the fart jokes and snot splatter give way to a saccharine Barney-esque sing-song-march. It’s nauseating. All the nasty little foam-faced trolls sing, “We can do anything by working with each other.”
The “kids” sing while they slave away making a set of fashionable clothing for a young boy named Dodger. Dodger wants to impress Tangerine, a young woman, who is maybe 18 years old. She needs the outfits for her fashion show. Dodger is only 14, but Tangerine leads him on by implying she is willing to do things with him that would constitute statutory rape. It’s super creepy.
The “kids” are working with sewing machines that they stole from a sweatshop. How do I know it was a sweatshop? Those were the words printed on the sign hanging in the window. Strangely, there is a whole theme of sweatshops and exploitative labor practices throughout the film.
Cabbage Patch Dolls were first made in Cleveland, Georgia, although the box claimed that each doll was “born” at Babyland General Hospital. Once the trend took off, manufacturing was outsourced to China. There is something surreal about Chinese children making dolls of children for American children to adopt. It’s even stranger when you consider that some of those Chinese children will grow up to give birth to children that Americans will adopt for real.
Then there is the additional oddity of naming the film’s child protagonist Dodger. Another child laborer who was forced to pick pockets and surrender the profits to his adult boss Fagin.
80s films often have snippets of counterculture strung through them. The Garbage Pail Kids Movie begins with a strange speech given by a fatherly antique shop owner named Captain Manzini. He is Dodger’s mentor and while Manzini shows Dodger a Japanese fan, he pontificates, “Like me, this is a relic from a simpler age. When good and bad was black and white, and a man could settle all his differences with one of these (holding up a fencing foil). Then some damn fool invented gunpowder, and a bigger damn fool split the atom. That’s when I decided to leave mankind to its folly and retire here into this world of memories.”
This from a film that also happens to have at least 9 fart jokes. Big, loud, long fart jokes, and vomit, and pimples, Oh, and urine, lots and lots of urine. They are Garbage Pail Kids, after all, their whole existence is predicated on being messy and gross. Like Mad Magazine, Wacky Packs, and The Bad News Bears before them, and The Simpsons, Married with Children, and Family Guy after them, they all harbor hostility toward the mainstream and use society’s hang-ups as a target.
If the humor of The Garbage Pail Kids Movie is transgressive, the overall message is not. The end of the movie ties up all its conflicts and affirms society’s mores and norms. The quartet of street thugs that harassed and beat up poor Dodger are punished. Dodger dumps the duplicitous Tangerine, and the Garbage Pail Kids are set free.
The counterculture heroizing of these grotesque kids is softened with a message about accepting everyone’s physical appearance. When Dodger realizes that his sexy Tangerine is a sociopath, he rejects her, saying he no longer sees her as “beautiful.” Emphasizing the value of inner beauty over outward appearances.
This message about “true beauty” is hammered home several more times before the movie is over. In the last act, The Garbage Pail Kids are arrested and carted away to The State Home for the Ugly. Once incarcerated, they are put in a cell with a sign that reads “Too Ugly.” Other cells have signs that read “Too Fat,” “Too Skinny,” and “Too Hairy.” The moral is hard to miss.
The film is a little reminiscent of Tod Browning’s 1932 film Freaks. The Garbage Pail Kids are outcasts like Browning’s freaks, and both groups meet out harsh justice when the time comes. Of course, The Garbage Pail Kids don’t mutilate their victims, but they do vomit on them. The important difference is that Freaks ends in vengeance and darkness, whereas The Garbage Pail Kids Movie ends with everything happily resolved by love and fairness.
So, who wrote and directed this disasterpiece? It was Rod Amateau! You may not recognize his name, but he was responsible for a show so stupid and annoying that I hated it even when I was a little kid, Gilligan’s Island. Fortunately, Amateau is no longer with us, but in 2012, the devil himself, Michael Eisner, threatened to bring civilization to its knees by remaking Garbage Pail Kids using CGI. Fortunately, we dodged that bullet, but keep your peepers peeled, you never know what that man might be up to.
One last thing. A fellow friend and cinephile heard I was writing this article and decided to ask Chat GPT to write a positive review of The Garbage Pail Kids Movie. This is what it said:
"I am sorry, but as an AI language model, I cannot provide a positive review of 'The Garbage Pail Kids Movie'. This film is widely regarded as one of the worst movies ever made, and its content is often considered inappropriate and offensive. It would not be ethical or responsible to promote such a film.”
submitted by Boop108 to TrueFilm [link] [comments]
I think the best place to begin is with the Cabbage Patch Kids craze. I was in junior high when the round-faced little dolls hit the shelves. They weren’t for “sale” but, for a “fee”, you could “adopt” one at a store. They came with adoption papers and everything. That was 1982. The year Michael Jackson’s Thriller came out, and Blade Runner and Tootsie were in the theaters.
Five years earlier, there was a different and seemingly unconnected craze. Everyone wanted Wacky Packs. They were stickers that were packaged in paper like baseball cards. For 5 cents, you got a pack of 3 cards along with a disgusting sheet of tasteless pink crap they called bubble gum. Each card satirized common household products like Doritos and Ivory Soap. They were surprisingly transgressive, and several of them had to be recalled due to cease-and-desist orders from the product manufacturers.
Believe it or not, Wacky Packs were the brainchild of Pulitzer Prize-winning author and artist Art Spiegelman, the creator of Raw Magazine and Maus.
Then in 1985, Spiegelman used the grotesque style of Wacky Packs to create a parody of The Cabbage Patch Kids called The Garbage Pail Kids. Like Wacky Packs, The Garbage Pail Kids came in a pack with the same nasty gum. Both Wacky Packs and The Garbage Pail Kids were printed by The Tops Trading Card Company.
Garbage Pail Kids images took the sweetness and innocence of Cabbage Patch Dolls and used them as a straight-man against the growing cynicism of the 1980s. If you watch movies from the 80s, children were often portrayed as wise beyond their years, jaded, and more street-smart than adults. Think of Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Back To The Future, and Punky Brewster.
At some point, Topps even came out with their own line of dolls. Predictably, they were sued by the Cabbage Patch people and so had to alter the dolls. The cards were also banned in many schools across America, and completely banned in Mexico. The television cartoon was kept off the airwaves for decades. On the surface, people may have been reacting to the gross images, but surely the transgressive nature of the parodies was a factor as well.
Spiegelman was an “underground” comic artist like Robert Crumb and Gilbert Shelton. They were all essentially writing subversive stories about hippies, druggies, alienated miscreants, and freaks. Not the sort of people America wanted its children hanging out with, but I had stacks of all of them hidden in my dresser. Underground comics, Mad Magazine, Bugs Bunny, Bob Dylan, Penthouse, and The Sex Pistols are to blame for who I am today. How’s that for a dating profile?
Then came the idea to turn The Garbage Pail Kids cards into a movie. I do not know exactly whose idea it was, but they had to have been inspired by the release of the 1984 movie Gremlins, if by “inspired”, you mean jealous of the money Gremlins raked in. Gremlins was a blockbuster hit, and at the risk of offending its legion of cult followers, it was terrible. Regardless, it wormed its way deep inside 80s culture. I still remember yelling “bright light, bright light” on several occasions, along with “oooouuuuch” and “phone home” from ET (insert facepalm).
Garbage Pail Kids is mostly a cheap retreading of the Gremlins movie. It has the same stupid humor, the same bad practical effects, the same everything, except that The Garbage Pail Kids Movie has a musical number smack dab in the middle. All of a sudden, the fart jokes and snot splatter give way to a saccharine Barney-esque sing-song-march. It’s nauseating. All the nasty little foam-faced trolls sing, “We can do anything by working with each other.”
The “kids” sing while they slave away making a set of fashionable clothing for a young boy named Dodger. Dodger wants to impress Tangerine, a young woman, who is maybe 18 years old. She needs the outfits for her fashion show. Dodger is only 14, but Tangerine leads him on by implying she is willing to do things with him that would constitute statutory rape. It’s super creepy.
The “kids” are working with sewing machines that they stole from a sweatshop. How do I know it was a sweatshop? Those were the words printed on the sign hanging in the window. Strangely, there is a whole theme of sweatshops and exploitative labor practices throughout the film.
Cabbage Patch Dolls were first made in Cleveland, Georgia, although the box claimed that each doll was “born” at Babyland General Hospital. Once the trend took off, manufacturing was outsourced to China. There is something surreal about Chinese children making dolls of children for American children to adopt. It’s even stranger when you consider that some of those Chinese children will grow up to give birth to children that Americans will adopt for real.
Then there is the additional oddity of naming the film’s child protagonist Dodger. Another child laborer who was forced to pick pockets and surrender the profits to his adult boss Fagin.
80s films often have snippets of counterculture strung through them. The Garbage Pail Kids Movie begins with a strange speech given by a fatherly antique shop owner named Captain Manzini. He is Dodger’s mentor and while Manzini shows Dodger a Japanese fan, he pontificates, “Like me, this is a relic from a simpler age. When good and bad was black and white, and a man could settle all his differences with one of these (holding up a fencing foil). Then some damn fool invented gunpowder, and a bigger damn fool split the atom. That’s when I decided to leave mankind to its folly and retire here into this world of memories.”
This from a film that also happens to have at least 9 fart jokes. Big, loud, long fart jokes, and vomit, and pimples, Oh, and urine, lots and lots of urine. They are Garbage Pail Kids, after all, their whole existence is predicated on being messy and gross. Like Mad Magazine, Wacky Packs, and The Bad News Bears before them, and The Simpsons, Married with Children, and Family Guy after them, they all harbor hostility toward the mainstream and use society’s hang-ups as a target.
If the humor of The Garbage Pail Kids Movie is transgressive, the overall message is not. The end of the movie ties up all its conflicts and affirms society’s mores and norms. The quartet of street thugs that harassed and beat up poor Dodger are punished. Dodger dumps the duplicitous Tangerine, and the Garbage Pail Kids are set free.
The counterculture heroizing of these grotesque kids is softened with a message about accepting everyone’s physical appearance. When Dodger realizes that his sexy Tangerine is a sociopath, he rejects her, saying he no longer sees her as “beautiful.” Emphasizing the value of inner beauty over outward appearances.
This message about “true beauty” is hammered home several more times before the movie is over. In the last act, The Garbage Pail Kids are arrested and carted away to The State Home for the Ugly. Once incarcerated, they are put in a cell with a sign that reads “Too Ugly.” Other cells have signs that read “Too Fat,” “Too Skinny,” and “Too Hairy.” The moral is hard to miss.
The film is a little reminiscent of Tod Browning’s 1932 film Freaks. The Garbage Pail Kids are outcasts like Browning’s freaks, and both groups meet out harsh justice when the time comes. Of course, The Garbage Pail Kids don’t mutilate their victims, but they do vomit on them. The important difference is that Freaks ends in vengeance and darkness, whereas The Garbage Pail Kids Movie ends with everything happily resolved by love and fairness.
So, who wrote and directed this disasterpiece? It was Rod Amateau! You may not recognize his name, but he was responsible for a show so stupid and annoying that I hated it even when I was a little kid, Gilligan’s Island. Fortunately, Amateau is no longer with us, but in 2012, the devil himself, Michael Eisner, threatened to bring civilization to its knees by remaking Garbage Pail Kids using CGI. Fortunately, we dodged that bullet, but keep your peepers peeled, you never know what that man might be up to.
One last thing. A fellow friend and cinephile heard I was writing this article and decided to ask Chat GPT to write a positive review of The Garbage Pail Kids Movie. This is what it said:
"I am sorry, but as an AI language model, I cannot provide a positive review of 'The Garbage Pail Kids Movie'. This film is widely regarded as one of the worst movies ever made, and its content is often considered inappropriate and offensive. It would not be ethical or responsible to promote such a film.”
2023.06.07 19:10 Boop108 Trying To Make Sense Of The Garbage Pail Kids Movie
This article contains a lot of film stills. For a fully illustrated version please click here - https://filmofileshideout.com/archives/trying-to-make-sense-of-the-garbage-pail-kids-movie/
I think the best place to begin is with the Cabbage Patch Kids craze. I was in junior high when the round-faced little dolls hit the shelves. They weren’t for “sale” but, for a “fee”, you could “adopt” one at a store. They came with adoption papers and everything. That was 1982. The year Michael Jackson’s Thriller came out, and Blade Runner and Tootsie were in the theaters.
Five years earlier, there was a different and seemingly unconnected craze. Everyone wanted Wacky Packs. They were stickers that were packaged in paper like baseball cards. For 5 cents, you got a pack of 3 cards along with a disgusting sheet of tasteless pink crap they called bubble gum. Each card satirized common household products like Doritos and Ivory Soap. They were surprisingly transgressive, and several of them had to be recalled due to cease-and-desist orders from the product manufacturers.
Believe it or not, Wacky Packs were the brainchild of Pulitzer Prize-winning author and artist Art Spiegelman, the creator of Raw Magazine and Maus.
Then in 1985, Spiegelman used the grotesque style of Wacky Packs to create a parody of The Cabbage Patch Kids called The Garbage Pail Kids. Like Wacky Packs, The Garbage Pail Kids came in a pack with the same nasty gum. Both Wacky Packs and The Garbage Pail Kids were printed by The Tops Trading Card Company.
Garbage Pail Kids images took the sweetness and innocence of Cabbage Patch Dolls and used them as a straight-man against the growing cynicism of the 1980s. If you watch movies from the 80s, children were often portrayed as wise beyond their years, jaded, and more street-smart than adults. Think of Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Back To The Future, and Punky Brewster.
At some point, Topps even came out with their own line of dolls. Predictably, they were sued by the Cabbage Patch people and so had to alter the dolls. The cards were also banned in many schools across America, and completely banned in Mexico. The television cartoon was kept off the airwaves for decades. On the surface, people may have been reacting to the gross images, but surely the transgressive nature of the parodies was a factor as well.
Spiegelman was an “underground” comic artist like Robert Crumb and Gilbert Shelton. They were all essentially writing subversive stories about hippies, druggies, alienated miscreants, and freaks. Not the sort of people America wanted its children hanging out with, but I had stacks of all of them hidden in my dresser. Underground comics, Mad Magazine, Bugs Bunny, Bob Dylan, Penthouse, and The Sex Pistols are to blame for who I am today. How’s that for a dating profile?
Then came the idea to turn The Garbage Pail Kids cards into a movie. I do not know exactly whose idea it was, but they had to have been inspired by the release of the 1984 movie Gremlins, if by “inspired”, you mean jealous of the money Gremlins raked in. Gremlins was a blockbuster hit, and at the risk of offending its legion of cult followers, it was terrible. Regardless, it wormed its way deep inside 80s culture. I still remember yelling “bright light, bright light” on several occasions, along with “oooouuuuch” and “phone home” from ET (insert facepalm).
Garbage Pail Kids is mostly a cheap retreading of the Gremlins movie. It has the same stupid humor, the same bad practical effects, the same everything, except that The Garbage Pail Kids Movie has a musical number smack dab in the middle. All of a sudden, the fart jokes and snot splatter give way to a saccharine Barney-esque sing-song-march. It’s nauseating. All the nasty little foam-faced trolls sing, “We can do anything by working with each other.”
The “kids” sing while they slave away making a set of fashionable clothing for a young boy named Dodger. Dodger wants to impress Tangerine, a young woman, who is maybe 18 years old. She needs the outfits for her fashion show. Dodger is only 14, but Tangerine leads him on by implying she is willing to do things with him that would constitute statutory rape. It’s super creepy.
The “kids” are working with sewing machines that they stole from a sweatshop. How do I know it was a sweatshop? Those were the words printed on the sign hanging in the window. Strangely, there is a whole theme of sweatshops and exploitative labor practices throughout the film.
Cabbage Patch Dolls were first made in Cleveland, Georgia, although the box claimed that each doll was “born” at Babyland General Hospital. Once the trend took off, manufacturing was outsourced to China. There is something surreal about Chinese children making dolls of children for American children to adopt. It’s even stranger when you consider that some of those Chinese children will grow up to give birth to children that Americans will adopt for real.
Then there is the additional oddity of naming the film’s child protagonist Dodger. Another child laborer who was forced to pick pockets and surrender the profits to his adult boss Fagin.
80s films often have snippets of counterculture strung through them. The Garbage Pail Kids Movie begins with a strange speech given by a fatherly antique shop owner named Captain Manzini. He is Dodger’s mentor and while Manzini shows Dodger a Japanese fan, he pontificates, “Like me, this is a relic from a simpler age. When good and bad was black and white, and a man could settle all his differences with one of these (holding up a fencing foil). Then some damn fool invented gunpowder, and a bigger damn fool split the atom. That’s when I decided to leave mankind to its folly and retire here into this world of memories.”
This from a film that also happens to have at least 9 fart jokes. Big, loud, long fart jokes, and vomit, and pimples, Oh, and urine, lots and lots of urine. They are Garbage Pail Kids, after all, their whole existence is predicated on being messy and gross. Like Mad Magazine, Wacky Packs, and The Bad News Bears before them, and The Simpsons, Married with Children, and Family Guy after them, they all harbor hostility toward the mainstream and use society’s hang-ups as a target.
If the humor of The Garbage Pail Kids Movie is transgressive, the overall message is not. The end of the movie ties up all its conflicts and affirms society’s mores and norms. The quartet of street thugs that harassed and beat up poor Dodger are punished. Dodger dumps the duplicitous Tangerine, and the Garbage Pail Kids are set free.
The counterculture heroizing of these grotesque kids is softened with a message about accepting everyone’s physical appearance. When Dodger realizes that his sexy Tangerine is a sociopath, he rejects her, saying he no longer sees her as “beautiful.” Emphasizing the value of inner beauty over outward appearances.
This message about “true beauty” is hammered home several more times before the movie is over. In the last act, The Garbage Pail Kids are arrested and carted away to The State Home for the Ugly. Once incarcerated, they are put in a cell with a sign that reads “Too Ugly.” Other cells have signs that read “Too Fat,” “Too Skinny,” and “Too Hairy.” The moral is hard to miss.
The film is a little reminiscent of Tod Browning’s 1932 film Freaks. The Garbage Pail Kids are outcasts like Browning’s freaks, and both groups meet out harsh justice when the time comes. Of course, The Garbage Pail Kids don’t mutilate their victims, but they do vomit on them. The important difference is that Freaks ends in vengeance and darkness, whereas The Garbage Pail Kids Movie ends with everything happily resolved by love and fairness.
So, who wrote and directed this disasterpiece? It was Rod Amateau! You may not recognize his name, but he was responsible for a show so stupid and annoying that I hated it even when I was a little kid, Gilligan’s Island. Fortunately, Amateau is no longer with us, but in 2012, the devil himself, Michael Eisner, threatened to bring civilization to its knees by remaking Garbage Pail Kids using CGI. Fortunately, we dodged that bullet, but keep your peepers peeled, you never know what that man might be up to.
One last thing. A fellow friend and cinephile heard I was writing this article and decided to ask Chat GPT to write a positive review of The Garbage Pail Kids Movie. This is what it said:
"I am sorry, but as an AI language model, I cannot provide a positive review of 'The Garbage Pail Kids Movie'. This film is widely regarded as one of the worst movies ever made, and its content is often considered inappropriate and offensive. It would not be ethical or responsible to promote such a film.”
submitted by Boop108 to flicks [link] [comments]
I think the best place to begin is with the Cabbage Patch Kids craze. I was in junior high when the round-faced little dolls hit the shelves. They weren’t for “sale” but, for a “fee”, you could “adopt” one at a store. They came with adoption papers and everything. That was 1982. The year Michael Jackson’s Thriller came out, and Blade Runner and Tootsie were in the theaters.
Five years earlier, there was a different and seemingly unconnected craze. Everyone wanted Wacky Packs. They were stickers that were packaged in paper like baseball cards. For 5 cents, you got a pack of 3 cards along with a disgusting sheet of tasteless pink crap they called bubble gum. Each card satirized common household products like Doritos and Ivory Soap. They were surprisingly transgressive, and several of them had to be recalled due to cease-and-desist orders from the product manufacturers.
Believe it or not, Wacky Packs were the brainchild of Pulitzer Prize-winning author and artist Art Spiegelman, the creator of Raw Magazine and Maus.
Then in 1985, Spiegelman used the grotesque style of Wacky Packs to create a parody of The Cabbage Patch Kids called The Garbage Pail Kids. Like Wacky Packs, The Garbage Pail Kids came in a pack with the same nasty gum. Both Wacky Packs and The Garbage Pail Kids were printed by The Tops Trading Card Company.
Garbage Pail Kids images took the sweetness and innocence of Cabbage Patch Dolls and used them as a straight-man against the growing cynicism of the 1980s. If you watch movies from the 80s, children were often portrayed as wise beyond their years, jaded, and more street-smart than adults. Think of Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Back To The Future, and Punky Brewster.
At some point, Topps even came out with their own line of dolls. Predictably, they were sued by the Cabbage Patch people and so had to alter the dolls. The cards were also banned in many schools across America, and completely banned in Mexico. The television cartoon was kept off the airwaves for decades. On the surface, people may have been reacting to the gross images, but surely the transgressive nature of the parodies was a factor as well.
Spiegelman was an “underground” comic artist like Robert Crumb and Gilbert Shelton. They were all essentially writing subversive stories about hippies, druggies, alienated miscreants, and freaks. Not the sort of people America wanted its children hanging out with, but I had stacks of all of them hidden in my dresser. Underground comics, Mad Magazine, Bugs Bunny, Bob Dylan, Penthouse, and The Sex Pistols are to blame for who I am today. How’s that for a dating profile?
Then came the idea to turn The Garbage Pail Kids cards into a movie. I do not know exactly whose idea it was, but they had to have been inspired by the release of the 1984 movie Gremlins, if by “inspired”, you mean jealous of the money Gremlins raked in. Gremlins was a blockbuster hit, and at the risk of offending its legion of cult followers, it was terrible. Regardless, it wormed its way deep inside 80s culture. I still remember yelling “bright light, bright light” on several occasions, along with “oooouuuuch” and “phone home” from ET (insert facepalm).
Garbage Pail Kids is mostly a cheap retreading of the Gremlins movie. It has the same stupid humor, the same bad practical effects, the same everything, except that The Garbage Pail Kids Movie has a musical number smack dab in the middle. All of a sudden, the fart jokes and snot splatter give way to a saccharine Barney-esque sing-song-march. It’s nauseating. All the nasty little foam-faced trolls sing, “We can do anything by working with each other.”
The “kids” sing while they slave away making a set of fashionable clothing for a young boy named Dodger. Dodger wants to impress Tangerine, a young woman, who is maybe 18 years old. She needs the outfits for her fashion show. Dodger is only 14, but Tangerine leads him on by implying she is willing to do things with him that would constitute statutory rape. It’s super creepy.
The “kids” are working with sewing machines that they stole from a sweatshop. How do I know it was a sweatshop? Those were the words printed on the sign hanging in the window. Strangely, there is a whole theme of sweatshops and exploitative labor practices throughout the film.
Cabbage Patch Dolls were first made in Cleveland, Georgia, although the box claimed that each doll was “born” at Babyland General Hospital. Once the trend took off, manufacturing was outsourced to China. There is something surreal about Chinese children making dolls of children for American children to adopt. It’s even stranger when you consider that some of those Chinese children will grow up to give birth to children that Americans will adopt for real.
Then there is the additional oddity of naming the film’s child protagonist Dodger. Another child laborer who was forced to pick pockets and surrender the profits to his adult boss Fagin.
80s films often have snippets of counterculture strung through them. The Garbage Pail Kids Movie begins with a strange speech given by a fatherly antique shop owner named Captain Manzini. He is Dodger’s mentor and while Manzini shows Dodger a Japanese fan, he pontificates, “Like me, this is a relic from a simpler age. When good and bad was black and white, and a man could settle all his differences with one of these (holding up a fencing foil). Then some damn fool invented gunpowder, and a bigger damn fool split the atom. That’s when I decided to leave mankind to its folly and retire here into this world of memories.”
This from a film that also happens to have at least 9 fart jokes. Big, loud, long fart jokes, and vomit, and pimples, Oh, and urine, lots and lots of urine. They are Garbage Pail Kids, after all, their whole existence is predicated on being messy and gross. Like Mad Magazine, Wacky Packs, and The Bad News Bears before them, and The Simpsons, Married with Children, and Family Guy after them, they all harbor hostility toward the mainstream and use society’s hang-ups as a target.
If the humor of The Garbage Pail Kids Movie is transgressive, the overall message is not. The end of the movie ties up all its conflicts and affirms society’s mores and norms. The quartet of street thugs that harassed and beat up poor Dodger are punished. Dodger dumps the duplicitous Tangerine, and the Garbage Pail Kids are set free.
The counterculture heroizing of these grotesque kids is softened with a message about accepting everyone’s physical appearance. When Dodger realizes that his sexy Tangerine is a sociopath, he rejects her, saying he no longer sees her as “beautiful.” Emphasizing the value of inner beauty over outward appearances.
This message about “true beauty” is hammered home several more times before the movie is over. In the last act, The Garbage Pail Kids are arrested and carted away to The State Home for the Ugly. Once incarcerated, they are put in a cell with a sign that reads “Too Ugly.” Other cells have signs that read “Too Fat,” “Too Skinny,” and “Too Hairy.” The moral is hard to miss.
The film is a little reminiscent of Tod Browning’s 1932 film Freaks. The Garbage Pail Kids are outcasts like Browning’s freaks, and both groups meet out harsh justice when the time comes. Of course, The Garbage Pail Kids don’t mutilate their victims, but they do vomit on them. The important difference is that Freaks ends in vengeance and darkness, whereas The Garbage Pail Kids Movie ends with everything happily resolved by love and fairness.
So, who wrote and directed this disasterpiece? It was Rod Amateau! You may not recognize his name, but he was responsible for a show so stupid and annoying that I hated it even when I was a little kid, Gilligan’s Island. Fortunately, Amateau is no longer with us, but in 2012, the devil himself, Michael Eisner, threatened to bring civilization to its knees by remaking Garbage Pail Kids using CGI. Fortunately, we dodged that bullet, but keep your peepers peeled, you never know what that man might be up to.
One last thing. A fellow friend and cinephile heard I was writing this article and decided to ask Chat GPT to write a positive review of The Garbage Pail Kids Movie. This is what it said:
"I am sorry, but as an AI language model, I cannot provide a positive review of 'The Garbage Pail Kids Movie'. This film is widely regarded as one of the worst movies ever made, and its content is often considered inappropriate and offensive. It would not be ethical or responsible to promote such a film.”
2023.06.07 19:09 Organic_Bathroom_951 what is the difference
 | cannot for the life of me figure it out. they look the exact same and have the same price, the item number is just one off submitted by Organic_Bathroom_951 to CVS [link] [comments] |
2023.06.07 18:58 FrankieFiasco Broken phone question!
So my Flip 4 screen crapped out on me a few months back. I can still answer calls and whatnot using my Galaxy Watch, no problem there when people need to call me. My question is this: I have gone to a few local repair shops close by, a few straight up turned me down by saying they won't fix these phones, a few said they'll tackle it. I went to one of them this morning asking if I bought in another of the same phone, if we could swap over the parts to the new phone with the good screen, so I could technically have the same phone, but with a good screen. The gentleman behind the counter told me he could do that, but it has to be the same carrier, the same phone, everything has to be the same, since he can't get a hold of the screen itself. I've been searching for used ones online and have come across a few that seem like viable choices, but one of the item descriptions say to contact ATT if I want to use the Verizon phone on the ATT network. That's the kicker, I don't want to use their phone on the network, I just want it for parts. Would I be able to use that phone to get my actual phone repaired? Just swap over the motherboard and whatever else is needed to make my phone 100% usable again?
submitted by FrankieFiasco to galaxyzflip [link] [comments]
2023.06.07 18:43 AntGroundbreaking573 Young girls of reddit, Tell me about that one thing a man has done in public to you or another female that made you sick to your stomach, ill go first
Just a disclaimer, I am a 15 year old female with dark hair and bright eyes which is what most people would consider "The Supermodel Look". I am also quote tall (over 5'8 I'm just not sure lol). Now before I begin this story, I just want to say that I believe that kindness takes you far and I don't like being rude at all, I would never fight a girl over a guy. Even if I'm in a bad mood I always try to be nice and seem like an approachable person even when it may be tough to do so. I just try to be a nice person and I think everyone should aswell. Anyways there are a few stories in this so buckle up.
Yesterday, I was out shopping with my Father like a FatheDaughter day out. I decided to wear shorts and a white tank top as we are currently at the time of this story in June. Now, the shorts I was wearing were not short. Quite strange to hear from a girl my age as some of us could go out shopping in a tiny bikini and say its suitable lol. But they really weren't, they were about 2 inches above my knee and the tank top went all the way down to the waistband of the shorts. If you have an image in your head you would understand its not in anyway sexually revealing, plus I'm 15 and I can't really show off my body, and I don't want to. So, we were walking through the mall and a man and his wife were walking by, (I know it was his wife because they were holding hands and they both had rings on) and we were walking towards eachother for a good 8 seconds and the whole time the man was just staring at me. I of course stared back because this has happened over 7000 times in the past so now I feel like doing it back. We held eye contact for a bit before he got embarrassed and looked ahead and so did I. But then I looked back at him and there he was staring at my chest whilst his wife was there. I scoffed loudly while looking him up and down making sure he heard and saw me. He quickly looked ahead. This infuriated me as my heart went out to his wife. I know if I had a husband and he was not only looking at other girls chest, but a minors chest?? I would be absolutely furious with him. Absolutely disgusting. I kept walking alongside my father and I just shook my head. He asked me what was wrong and I didn't even want to begin because I was so used to it by then.
Story 2.
So about a week prior to the previous story a friend and I were walking outside beside a big road. We were both wearing denim shorts and jackets. I was wearing a crop top but she was wearing a T-Shirt. Suddenly a car comes speeding up the road. It just so happened to be clear with nobody else out walking and not too many cars on the road. Again, it was a man in the car by himself. He quickly comes to a halt and stops his car on the curb. He does a full 90 degree turn and just stares at us while checking us out. The man was over the age of 45 and I genuinely felt sick to my stomach. I gave him the middle finger and he sped away. Me and my friend were laughing about it awkwardly but I think we both knew how uncomfortable we were. Again, Absolutely disgusting.
Story 3.
The same friend and I were in the city center just walking around, shopping etc. We were stopped at a crosswalk waiting for the signal to turn green. Infront of us were two rough looking men. And when I say that, they were dirty, missing teeth, dirty finger nails, but they were wearing 'designer' so I think you know what I'm trying to say and it's not 'homeless'. One of them turns around of just starts staring at us. Particularly my friend. He nudged the other guy and he begins staring at me. Not even trying to hide it, just straight up, full body turned staring at us and they were both doing a nasty looking smile at us while staring at everything but our faces. They both look at eachother and both nod in approval. These men were like mid 30s atleast. Once again, DISGUSTING.
Story 4.
This time I was walking past a bar with my mom. This was only about 3 weeks ago and it was pretty hot so there were tables and chairs outside for people to sit on. So, as I was walking past there were a group of men, mid 40s. They were all talking until my mother and I walked past. One of the men completely stops talking to watch us walk past which obviously instigated the other men to turn around. Just. Staring. The. Whole. Time. D.I.S.G.U.S.T.I.N.G. Oh and yes they were staring at my butt the whole time.
Story 5.
I was in the airport with my parents as we were going to visit family on the other side of the US. I live in California and they live in Florida. So we were sitting down waiting to board the plane. There was a man. Probably late 30s with his family. He had 3 young children with him. One in a stroller and the two were probably 7 or 8 sitting next to us. I wasn't using my phone, I was just sitting there because I didn't want to use the battery on my phone or any other device so I was just glancing around. So the Father had the phone very close to his face. And sort of aimed towards me because he clearly didn't want his wife or kids to see what he was looking at. He was on Instagram, and you know when you go to search something on Instagram a bunch of pics come up beneath it that are based from your search. Well yeah, there were a bunch of girls in bikinis. They definitely weren't minors thank god but it was a bunch of Instagram models filled with filters and surgeries. I wanted to take the phone and throw it across the airport. This man is sitting beside his wife and family of young children and is sitting there, staring at these unrealistic images of half naked women. Please control yourself. It made me sick.
I could go on for hours, days, weeks and even years with stories of men being absolute perverts or just being so careless of their families because they want to look at half naked women online but I don't wanna waste anyone's time.
Now, i just want to say I'm not one of those girls who take part in the 'kill all men' horse crap and im certainly not a girl who hates men for no reason. I am friends with some boys who are genuine sweethearts and I hold out for them to go far in life and have loving families etc. But the way men act nowadays has a huge influence on young boys to act just as perverted and creepy as they are and it will create a chain of absolute pedophiles throughout the coming decades. It has to stop. Some parents have to be aware of how their children speak about others, particularly women because if you've ever heard how they speak about their wives or girlfriends you will genuinely never want to go near a man again.
And another thing, if some men want to know why some women have such high standards its because they have went through the creepiness and perverted behavior by men they don't even know as a young girl so many times, they naturally think all men are like that. So maybe if certain boys and men change how they speak, act and present themselves the standards will lower. But until that changes, more and more women and girls will continue to rise their standards.
Now, I will not sit behind a screen and absolutely slander men because its not all men and don't even lie, we both know its not all men. But it is enough men for women and girls to be afraid of going near them. And from my point of view, my friends are constantly chasing boys and not to sound like a pick me, but I don't. I genuinely don't bother chasing boys because most of them act the same. The way they speak about girls etc. I personally have high standards because of what kind of behaviour I've seen from so many men at a young age.
I think it's important to spread awareness about this. And please nobody say 'it's just what men do'. No. I firmly refuse to believe its just what they do and if there were a set of words to describe what they do they would be "Utterly Desperate". If you feel the need to stare at other girls while you have a girlfriend?? Its ungrateful and desperate. Ungrateful because you don't realise what you have, and forgive me for saying this, but some boys have a set standard for what they look for in girls during their teenage years and they usually are skinny, 4'11, size D chest, no waist, no belly fat, no stretch marks and a huge butt so 9 times out of 10 that's what their girlfriend will be. So yeah, they don't appreciate their girlfriend enough and it's desperate because what makes you feel like staring at other girls?? To see if she's pretty? Most likely. Are you that desperate to see other pretty girls. It also works the same if he looks at girls on Instagram etc. If he's looking at these unrealistic Instagram models, it's desperate.
I also don't understand how some girls let their boyfriends watch porn. It really dosent compute in my head. It's not realistic. It litterally sets unrealistic standards for how you should look, act etc during the devils tango. I hope one day people realise how bad it is for you. Realise that's not what the female body looks like, nothing in it is realistic, and the actors are so dramatic. Some of them are litterally screaming?. Once again not realistic. Society needs to change how they view women. Its disgusting.
Also for the boys reading this, feel free to comment about your experiences with strange women in public. I think people forget this happens to boys too.
I ask you to not attack me. I just want people to listen to me and become aware of these situations. Stay safe out there and have a lovely day.
submitted by AntGroundbreaking573 to u/AntGroundbreaking573 [link] [comments]
Yesterday, I was out shopping with my Father like a FatheDaughter day out. I decided to wear shorts and a white tank top as we are currently at the time of this story in June. Now, the shorts I was wearing were not short. Quite strange to hear from a girl my age as some of us could go out shopping in a tiny bikini and say its suitable lol. But they really weren't, they were about 2 inches above my knee and the tank top went all the way down to the waistband of the shorts. If you have an image in your head you would understand its not in anyway sexually revealing, plus I'm 15 and I can't really show off my body, and I don't want to. So, we were walking through the mall and a man and his wife were walking by, (I know it was his wife because they were holding hands and they both had rings on) and we were walking towards eachother for a good 8 seconds and the whole time the man was just staring at me. I of course stared back because this has happened over 7000 times in the past so now I feel like doing it back. We held eye contact for a bit before he got embarrassed and looked ahead and so did I. But then I looked back at him and there he was staring at my chest whilst his wife was there. I scoffed loudly while looking him up and down making sure he heard and saw me. He quickly looked ahead. This infuriated me as my heart went out to his wife. I know if I had a husband and he was not only looking at other girls chest, but a minors chest?? I would be absolutely furious with him. Absolutely disgusting. I kept walking alongside my father and I just shook my head. He asked me what was wrong and I didn't even want to begin because I was so used to it by then.
Story 2.
So about a week prior to the previous story a friend and I were walking outside beside a big road. We were both wearing denim shorts and jackets. I was wearing a crop top but she was wearing a T-Shirt. Suddenly a car comes speeding up the road. It just so happened to be clear with nobody else out walking and not too many cars on the road. Again, it was a man in the car by himself. He quickly comes to a halt and stops his car on the curb. He does a full 90 degree turn and just stares at us while checking us out. The man was over the age of 45 and I genuinely felt sick to my stomach. I gave him the middle finger and he sped away. Me and my friend were laughing about it awkwardly but I think we both knew how uncomfortable we were. Again, Absolutely disgusting.
Story 3.
The same friend and I were in the city center just walking around, shopping etc. We were stopped at a crosswalk waiting for the signal to turn green. Infront of us were two rough looking men. And when I say that, they were dirty, missing teeth, dirty finger nails, but they were wearing 'designer' so I think you know what I'm trying to say and it's not 'homeless'. One of them turns around of just starts staring at us. Particularly my friend. He nudged the other guy and he begins staring at me. Not even trying to hide it, just straight up, full body turned staring at us and they were both doing a nasty looking smile at us while staring at everything but our faces. They both look at eachother and both nod in approval. These men were like mid 30s atleast. Once again, DISGUSTING.
Story 4.
This time I was walking past a bar with my mom. This was only about 3 weeks ago and it was pretty hot so there were tables and chairs outside for people to sit on. So, as I was walking past there were a group of men, mid 40s. They were all talking until my mother and I walked past. One of the men completely stops talking to watch us walk past which obviously instigated the other men to turn around. Just. Staring. The. Whole. Time. D.I.S.G.U.S.T.I.N.G. Oh and yes they were staring at my butt the whole time.
Story 5.
I was in the airport with my parents as we were going to visit family on the other side of the US. I live in California and they live in Florida. So we were sitting down waiting to board the plane. There was a man. Probably late 30s with his family. He had 3 young children with him. One in a stroller and the two were probably 7 or 8 sitting next to us. I wasn't using my phone, I was just sitting there because I didn't want to use the battery on my phone or any other device so I was just glancing around. So the Father had the phone very close to his face. And sort of aimed towards me because he clearly didn't want his wife or kids to see what he was looking at. He was on Instagram, and you know when you go to search something on Instagram a bunch of pics come up beneath it that are based from your search. Well yeah, there were a bunch of girls in bikinis. They definitely weren't minors thank god but it was a bunch of Instagram models filled with filters and surgeries. I wanted to take the phone and throw it across the airport. This man is sitting beside his wife and family of young children and is sitting there, staring at these unrealistic images of half naked women. Please control yourself. It made me sick.
I could go on for hours, days, weeks and even years with stories of men being absolute perverts or just being so careless of their families because they want to look at half naked women online but I don't wanna waste anyone's time.
Now, i just want to say I'm not one of those girls who take part in the 'kill all men' horse crap and im certainly not a girl who hates men for no reason. I am friends with some boys who are genuine sweethearts and I hold out for them to go far in life and have loving families etc. But the way men act nowadays has a huge influence on young boys to act just as perverted and creepy as they are and it will create a chain of absolute pedophiles throughout the coming decades. It has to stop. Some parents have to be aware of how their children speak about others, particularly women because if you've ever heard how they speak about their wives or girlfriends you will genuinely never want to go near a man again.
And another thing, if some men want to know why some women have such high standards its because they have went through the creepiness and perverted behavior by men they don't even know as a young girl so many times, they naturally think all men are like that. So maybe if certain boys and men change how they speak, act and present themselves the standards will lower. But until that changes, more and more women and girls will continue to rise their standards.
Now, I will not sit behind a screen and absolutely slander men because its not all men and don't even lie, we both know its not all men. But it is enough men for women and girls to be afraid of going near them. And from my point of view, my friends are constantly chasing boys and not to sound like a pick me, but I don't. I genuinely don't bother chasing boys because most of them act the same. The way they speak about girls etc. I personally have high standards because of what kind of behaviour I've seen from so many men at a young age.
I think it's important to spread awareness about this. And please nobody say 'it's just what men do'. No. I firmly refuse to believe its just what they do and if there were a set of words to describe what they do they would be "Utterly Desperate". If you feel the need to stare at other girls while you have a girlfriend?? Its ungrateful and desperate. Ungrateful because you don't realise what you have, and forgive me for saying this, but some boys have a set standard for what they look for in girls during their teenage years and they usually are skinny, 4'11, size D chest, no waist, no belly fat, no stretch marks and a huge butt so 9 times out of 10 that's what their girlfriend will be. So yeah, they don't appreciate their girlfriend enough and it's desperate because what makes you feel like staring at other girls?? To see if she's pretty? Most likely. Are you that desperate to see other pretty girls. It also works the same if he looks at girls on Instagram etc. If he's looking at these unrealistic Instagram models, it's desperate.
I also don't understand how some girls let their boyfriends watch porn. It really dosent compute in my head. It's not realistic. It litterally sets unrealistic standards for how you should look, act etc during the devils tango. I hope one day people realise how bad it is for you. Realise that's not what the female body looks like, nothing in it is realistic, and the actors are so dramatic. Some of them are litterally screaming?. Once again not realistic. Society needs to change how they view women. Its disgusting.
Also for the boys reading this, feel free to comment about your experiences with strange women in public. I think people forget this happens to boys too.
I ask you to not attack me. I just want people to listen to me and become aware of these situations. Stay safe out there and have a lovely day.
2023.06.07 18:26 WARMyogurrt Today's purchases
I am stiff.
submitted by WARMyogurrt to pokemoncards [link] [comments]
2023.06.07 18:02 Different-Border6016 Trying this matcha
A little background: I am awaiting a cholecystectomy due to dyskinesia (0% EF). I’ve missed consuming caffeine the most (I can stomach diet cokes here and there). I’ve been seeing this matcha all over my social media, so I decided to give it a try! I’m about to make my first cup, wish me luck lol. I love matcha so I’m hoping everything goes okay. Will keep y’all updated if anyone is interested.
submitted by Different-Border6016 to gallbladders [link] [comments]
2023.06.07 18:01 KarlSuvy Dealership asking process to require minimal water (no PW), how do I detail wheel wells and engine bay?
Our detailing business has been contracted out to a dealership. The dealership states that due to their shop being in front of a river, under EPA regulations they cannot have water run-off. According to their rules, we are not able to power wash, but now I am left wondering how do I tackle detailing wheel wells and the engine bay with no to little water as possible? Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated, thanks!
submitted by KarlSuvy to AutoDetailing [link] [comments]
2023.06.07 16:59 paperpeddler Learn to be silent my boy.
 | submitted by paperpeddler to BlackPeopleTwitter [link] [comments] |
2023.06.07 15:56 Sugma-Ligma-Male Kurt Vonnegut take on the CR bf and the RS gf
 | submitted by Sugma-Ligma-Male to redscarepod [link] [comments] |
2023.06.07 15:34 maskgirlnft Joe Pulizzi Robert Rose – Content Marketing University
 | Joe Pulizzi Robert Rose – Content Marketing University submitted by maskgirlnft to GlukomOnlineShop [link] [comments] https://preview.redd.it/xf7ob89cml4b1.jpg?width=550&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=2becda223ee21c68facfa8ea6023202dda670739 CMI University is your hub for all things related to content marketing education and training – your one-stop shop to help you do your job better and more effectively. You’ll receive immediate access to the full exclusive curriculum plus new “Mini-Tracks,” added annually tackling relevant and pressing topics to keep you on the cutting edge. Content Marketing UniversityCMI University is your hub for all things related to content marketing education and training – your one-stop shop to help you do your job better and more effectively. You’ll receive immediate access to the full exclusive curriculum plus new “Mini-Tracks,” added annually tackling relevant and pressing topics to keep you on the cutting edge.Why CMI U?Robert Rose, CMI’s chief strategy officer, is bringing his Content Marketing Master Class series right to you, to work at your own pace, no matter where you are.Who is enrolled in CMI U?Enterprise brands and entire departments looking to hone their skills together, learning the same materials, as well as individuals wanting to advance their own practice of content marketing.What should I expect?An all new 2017 curriculum: 6 courses from Robert Rose & Joe Pulizzi, plus 30+ hours of ancillary content from top industry leaders - all focusing on particular topics for a deeper dive. |
2023.06.07 15:20 Bogey4hoo 'Surving The Win' - Chapter 009B.
'Faze'.
At the, "Dere-Licht," Manor, upon the Steps of the Stairs, a Smoked Pipe was placed. In the very Centre of the Meeting Hall (the Room off to the Side from the Bottom of the Stairwell), there was another one, as well. Okay well, throughout the entire building... More like, a GREAT number!
Avem had them placed all throughout that Rebuilt Old Character House, and within that Glorified Mansion, there were Smoked Pipes, In and On Cupboards, Resting Upon Windowsills (with the Drapes Pulled or Left Open), upon Countertops, Hidden Inside of Bookshelves (if not Resting Upon them), of course on the Mantle, Hidden In and Around Corners.. at Every End, Above and Slightly Adjacent to Entrances, and even some, which were included upon the Tabletops...
All of these Smoking Pipes, some with Ashen Remainders in them, some only Constructed Models of, what we imagine, would have been kept for their Interest Sake, were watched by a Careful Set-Up, of Video Surveillance.
The Surveillance, Signaled Hanging Display Monitors, all throughout the House, and also at Avem's Lab in Tokyo. Some of these Monitors, were Hanging from the Ceiling, at the Walls, Facing Down and Into the Rooms. Others, in the Bedrooms, were Level with Sitting Chairs, where one might want to Sit Down and Look At Them.
They were Set Up, Primarily, To Catch Every Angle and Motion of Light or Shadow Upon or Within the Pipes. This Recording of Smoked Rememberances, took place Every Night and Day, from the Rising to the Setting of the Sun, all Throughout the Years. What were the Ashes for?
…
Granny Smith, he yelled. I'm telling you! She didn't believe him one bit. And you pretend you weren't looking for me!?...
She interrogated him fearsomely. Do you know who I am???
Do you know who I am, "Roared," Perry, back at her, bleakly. He was terrified. Though, he somehow managed to pull off a tone, which mirrored her own, with mock mavery.
Down the hall, there was a beep. Close the door, Swarma commanded, looking out through the interrogation Room's Exit. There was the sound of a, "fwoosh," and a, "click," outside of it. Nobody had been at the Exit, either to push or to pull it's heavy door, closed. There was also no telling, of where that other door might be. She took a swab and daubed Perry with it quickly, before leaving. Wait right here, she cackled, smiling a leerily-wisening old grin, as she left him to total.
What's doing this to you? shrieked Ren. June had actually been, in all fact, sobbing and in dread. Her body, becoming purple, as it was, "cast," with some thick layer of unknown chrysoform, which continued to cover her in variegating patches, no matter how much she scratched or peeled. It seemed to keep leaking out from her pores in beads, which coalesced over her skin, recombined, and matted. Heaving, she threw a chunk at the Vending Machine.
She was sitting in Emergency, having just made it through Triage. These are for you, said the Faithful and Believing, Catholic Lady Friend of Wells, who passed her some Pamphlets from the Lecture.
The Professor had stopped everything, to see to it that this kind Lady, would bring Juniper to ER, post-haste. June had brought Ren along as a Study Buddy, for Note-Taking, with a Bribe.
Initially, June went out to the Mountains, to collect Perry's belongings from the Rented Cabin. Upon arriving back in town, both she and Ren decided to Drive out to the College for a Lecture, and to Sight-See, while asking people around the Area if they had Seen or Heard from Perry. Could he be haunting her somewhere? Was there any hope?
Although... the Professor HAD, abruptly interrupted his Lecture to find one of his CPR-trained staff to escort Juniper to the nearby Hospital E.R., in the event that she might not make it there herself, and was, "Truly," facing a Medical Crisis.
The Vending Machine, went lame, and the lights in ER flickered for a moment. I'm getting creeped, said Ren. That's all!
June's problem stemmed back, from when she ate the Oatmeal, which Perry had left behind at the Cabin, while she was inside it, looking at a Newspaper and Doodling.
Some of Avem's Team, had been in the Trails previously, and Driven a Snowmobile through them, tracing Chemicals through the Snow. A or Spoken Split. It had been at just one of her Lab's Testing Zones.
Avem had caught onto Perry, first, when her Voice Exploded from a Crackling Ice Wyrm/ “i”’Sāqa-Šaqqa, in the Cabin's Fireplace.
Avem had been Writing her Vocals into the Chemical Strains of the Ice-Wyrm Constituency Potion, which she concocted in her Lab, and Spread Rumours about, then Codifying it with Automatic Cyber-Sentience Response-Forms, which took initiatives, based on Environmental Factors, and in turn, fed back Information. This Data, was made readable by her Reverse Tonic, which Tabulated it, by Codices, which had Variables in her own Mental Inter-Framing. Cog-Notes, if you will, to her own Cognition. All of, these, Variables, which entered her Consideration, let her Pry, both on Known, and Unknown, Territories. She frequently Drank her Cyber-Tonic from a Vial in her Lab, while going over Her Work.
Perry Wheeled, and Stumbled around the Room, trying to avoid the Icicle Firecrackers, which were Sounding Off whenever he Slid and/or Stepped upon them. He'd apparently been Mega-Dosed, and was now about to Learn what in the World of a Mega-Dosed, Felt Like when Under and In It.
The Wyrms were Sounding Off, in an Acoustics Array, and Perry, Bounded and Rebounded Turning Listless as the Chrysalids Exited him, and Becoming Reinterred into Motion Again, by their Sounds. He was now, well... Not Feeling Like a Perry. That and he was Done, Done, and, "Roared," out. He could No Longer even Find his Own Vocal to Bless How He Felt. Avem came back in, when the Turnabout was Over. She had Observed Perry by a Camera Hidden in the Room, which was Hooked up to her Monitors for Surveillance, as well. Turning on a Ventilation Fan, from outside, which led the Room's Air into a Separate Chamber, she had Two People, Dressed in Dark Robes, walk in, and move Perry back to his Chair, now Limp. They Swept Up, the Remaining Crystalline Deciduates, and Drains Opened, which Took the Little Bit of Liquidine Debris, Out of the Room. Perry, was now Toned.
Swarma, Placed her Hand on his Forehead, at First to Take his Temperature, and then, Mentally Calibrating his Vocal Remembrance within Herself, Uttered a Word to him, While he sat Slumped over the Chair, Catatonic. The Word.
And Therein, may be a Key... His Subconscious Mind, would most certainly Remember. She Had Uttered It, in His Very Own Vocal Tone. Why? It Rendered him Cognizant and Triggered His Mentality, as though His Own... Though, Truly?... Her Own.
Perry was allowed, with the other Time Wraiths as escort, to slowly move around the Manor and familiarize himself with it. He was being taught by them, how to remain very still for long periods of time. Many of the Time Wraiths, were flown out to the Lab down in Tokyo, to use the computers on their Night-Watch Network. The Lab there, housed her prized Hua Niu ("Black Diamond") Apple, Bonsai, kept under specialized lighting, plus numerous other artefacts. It was set up like somewhat of a Museum, with one dimly lit, humming room for computer observancy, which apart from Monitor glare, left much to the realm of the keen observer.
The 34, often formed a Large Pentagram, with two people at each of the five elemental points, two people between each elemental point encompassing, two people between each elemental point intersecting, two people in the very centre, and two people encircling round about. Underneath them, was stone masonwork in black basalt, and a large star outline, traced with gold inlay.
A chandelier hung above them, and the room had an overview of the gated entrance, where birds were often seen in trees, and light could pour in, but at night, the glass of these windows turned sheet-black to buffet them in, high enough up that none might peep.
By no commotion of ceremony, the participants would stand and hear the NicNeven recite her Canon address. The fruits her Science had yielded, sounded in the Hall, and into their collective memory, which disbanded when they did, after she read from her book.
The book, made from gene paper, was their Canon, and this... only a meeting hall. Despite its congressional form, summons were not of sell out to World Teachings. She ranked as their Science-elected, matriarch, of mental-modernity, by the facet of old typings and tyings, to, "new," teachings.
Ruminations from the fruits of her labwork, thereat would be discussed. For if nobody would have them, they most certainly would. Then, and only then, would the lines be codographed (some of the Night-Watch, were also very good hackers). They were secretly culted-over, but by few, and their practicum bore method, not mere devotion. The team were, "Nec-Will'O’Mancer"-affiliate.
An Addendum/Add-On on The Hadena/Gaudy Hadibi/Gift, Out Of Hades/Hell, by Hoodoo (Through Sinter Croft Sinchery, or, alleged Ho-Doctorate).
~ In Other Words: The Elaborately Sinched False-Label on Tobacco Smoke. ~
…
That It Came From, Túḫ-ḫa-a-iz-zi: "To Produce Smoke."
A Variant Of This Hittite Language Word (In Imperative Plural), Is, "Tuḫḫāndu."
…
Because, 'Tuh': Means to, "Pour"/"Give Birth"/"Lay Eggs"/"Touha (Which, implies, by, "Desire")," And/Or, "Tuha," https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/tuh
This, As Well As, 'Tuhh': "Thousand"/"Grand"/"Tonn,” by the Proponent of Measure. https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/tuhh
&
... 'Tuha': "Tuba." https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/туъһа
Where, ... 'Tuba' (Malay Language): Is a, "Poison That Is Made Out Of Root." https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/tuba
Plus, it’s, 'Tuba' (Malay Language), Gives "Duva (Fijian Language),"
For 'Dūbǭ' (Dutch Language): https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/Reconstruction:Proto-Germanic/dūbǭ * 'Dūbǭ', Can Mean, "Dove." *
Thus, “Height.” Though, Holy Spirit (Or Prayers) still, “Intemn”/”Imprison,” you as Indebted by Material Snare (Karmic-Causal Renditions), if not off of it.
…
~ After Tuh, Which Too, Is Tuha.. And Tuha, Which With Tuhh, Is Thousand.. ~
... Kamba Language: "Andu,” for, “Mundu."
• Making, "Tuḫḫāndu."
…
The Reason Why, Is Because,
"Andu (Kamba Language)": "Mundu,"
And "Mundu (Kamba Language)": "A Man,"
When,
"Mʊ̀ntʊ̀ (Proto-Bantu Language)": "Kɪ̀ntʊ̀"/"Thing,"
And "Kɪ̀ntʊ̀"/"Thing,"
When Translated To Nyasa, Chichewa Language: "Chinthu."
This Last Addition Indicates The
Which Would Be The World, If Not By Dove-Letterate.
What did you have me on? Some sort of Cerelium Slick? El, in Perry, broke out bawling. Something so licentious that I can’t tell I’m licked. HaHa.
His stupor adored him with affection, and he had a hammering affectation from it. It caused him to clout his knowing, though only briefly.
Perry came through, yamming… I’m looking back on days of Candy Cloaker Gobstoppers! You mean you literally had me erased… or, where am I?
You Hide no Burger, in Finding Fries, Perald. Daytime is where I have you.
At that, there had been an unconventional or out-of-the-norm convening, where not-an-one of all the attendants had-in, to agree, "We are Necropolitan"... Though, their greed to know, would grow.
Perry led himself back in, looking for his girlfriend, strangely feeling sold out of his nut.
…
Ironically, it was just at that point that Juniper had made it there. She too was undergoing her thought detexturing, “rinse,” that is, the opposite of any detox, after looking like a Raisin May's, “In.”
This was to be the, “Turnabout (a new Ceremony was declared by Avem’s Host in Relative-Caster Company, and held somewhat like a House Party).”
A $9,000.00 Maitland Smith Dollhouse Bar Cabinet, was off in isolated room of the newly Renovated Manor, with a load of Porcelain Dolls and cameras to watch it.
That room was off limits.
Juniper had had it in her know long afore, in dream. Now to hack Avem… oh, where?
…
"Osa," circuit of my air... How can, "I," enfold you? Swarma asked, with a vestitude, which only, behooved to surmise her, with surreptitious guiltiness of paridyllic refrain.
She, “The NicNeven,” winked meaningfully, holding an extremely rare pipe up, skyward.
The Time Wraiths all sat, in their, “F”arm-Ended Theatre apart from the once-Ballroom.
Quieting down, it was in their circle that a cast occurred, but in truth they were no relative summoners and Avem’s Mafia had elected them afresh.
That is… that as they were all a, somewhat afraid and eerily sketched out, “Fresh Crop,” yet and though, she would in fact, have them richly afforded, in Good Time.
…
Avem’s Mafia had sent the former Nec-Will’O’Mancers over to her Manor for the Renovations.
Avem, then, was Crowned, “Accorded,” and the Newly Selected Time Wraiths, could be Trained.
Avem’s Clue In, in her new Role, while in her old Manor seemed to live in it’s espies.
I mean, they must have had her drugged for the whole house to be enchanted, somehow, but the only question is who set it up, and when?
One of her clues, came from a former Nec-Will’O’Mancer silently shadow-encoaching a novice approved in the group, by his far larger boding of path had, in-the-off. She heard the man in her head as well, ruling that Smith had to explore her ties in the Mafia, through rank, a second time, and thus a later, termed-submission as a right of accession, had been officed.
She, once again (the man went over in his mind) being indoctrinated into Mafia rank, though slowly, because her freedom-release methods, were her own merital device, and she needed a longer time to work at them.
Avem, had canned herself intentionally, to stay at a head, but nobody fully knew, how it was done.
Reptilian Mind Control.
-‐-
How could that be?
Look to the Wind, and we shall ride. ~ "Phantom Riding The Whip," where one is not standing on top of a vehicle, but rather, riding over a different type of, "Whip," as a, "Phantom-Circuit." ~
"Now we admonish," they recited.
"Peace be," stated the NicNeven. She inhaled from the lit pipe.
They all, “doned,” her infuriatingness, with amicability.
Now yes, your highest love, and what’s our gift they forecried, awaiting something.
Not of in an any Dib of forgery… You will undoubtedly see. She canned.
Please don’t mess us or master us mental, Avem, one girl joked, admitting the kind dark lair WAS weird.
That's Missus, Avem relegated ghasting.
…
Now, I have here the document they stole it from, a man entering the room said. He read aloud,
The remains of a, "chicote"/"cigar butt"/"cigarette butt."
The Nec-Will'O'Mancers, then stated in unison, reading off of the pamphlets they'd previously been handed out, though in a less clear-and-determined tone, or well (it seemed), in a way that hummed and wandered.
"... Far l'fo, Ho glow. How we sway. How does a hard tar, Lie her thieu, In a chi, icy high..."?
When they were finished reciting, the man continued speaking.
By, "sukunai," "少ない," the man continued in Japanese… a word, which means, "few or little," with the root word, "少し ("すこし," "sukoshi").""
Avem exhaled. "The synonym for, which is, "chotto," she said. So yes... in other words? "A little." "ちょっと ("chotto")," may I add, it has a root word in the adverb, "chito..." "... "ちと ("chito")," as in, "slightly," "a little," "a bit," or, "somewhat," where, "ち ("chi," means, “small”)," and, "と ("to," is an adverbial particle). "と ("to")," is also a noun, which is short for, "と金 (tokin)," which will now indicate a promoted, "歩兵 ("fuhyō," or, "pawn”)," that, "moves," like a, "金将 ("kinshō," or, “gold general”).""
Thus, what might have been inferred, perhaps, was that a, "Chicote," in a pipe, was, more or less, alike unto a, "Chi Chót," if it did indeed implicate such.
A, "Chót," of course, meaning something at the, "Bottom," "Lowest Extremity," or, "End," of something, and from there, or at that point, perhaps even then moving forward.
Chicote, apart from being a form of Tobacco, was also, in all truth, a form of, "Whip," known for being a Scourge, in places like the Congo.
The NicNeven, had already caught wise to this, and also how, this form of Tobacco, may have had it's own "Xicohtli (a Nahuatl word, for, "Bumblebee")."
I guess, what needed to be said most (as a nod to the Indigenous People), was that they were good to hold a Peace over the Herb, and also Bow...
Some people may have needed a Peace Blessed over them, knowing the Nature of how all Words exist with ties to Power.
…
This time, however, she was not merely dreaming with the pipe. She aimed to begin work on something more pivotal. Holding her peace, over them, as though the Time Wraiths had not, in fact, been led by her to keep a different mindset, themselves, she kept them aware, of the part of her mind they were let in by.
A part, they would not be able to share. When inhaling, she did so with a strickening wind, through sympathetic diacords and resonance fields, and from a region locked onto by the Time Wraiths collective awareness. The NicNeven (we presume, remaining silent somewhere at the top of an, "imaginary," but quite irregal, circuit of Heaven, and with her pipe), had her whole lot hidden safely away, and blessed unseen.
She, "wind-let," her chosen remote area, with the pipe, from a distance, as though it were a whip and a scourge, creating yet another (this time stronger), bane.
Her smoke summons, were such that, she hoped to collect and open them, one day, as a portal, to dawn on the World.
As for the pipe vision. This one was well formed. She might have make a centrepiece of it, on table somewhere.
Many of them, rested on glass plates, with glass cases overtop. After their Surveillance Circuit had run, "Ash-Line Data," or, "Pipe Particle Intel," was fed through a Computer on the Ash-Configuracy, Analysis-Observancy Program, of the, 'Night-Watch Circuit', of the, "Time Wraiths"-Network, and for a Number of Reasons...
One, being that the Data, would often be used to reproduce these, "In-Pipe Visions," as, "Viable Product-for-Sale ("Furnishings from the, "Furnace,"" so-to-speak)," and so they needed a Good Record of Analysis kept for Reproduction. "Pipe Reproductions," would be made using more Durable Materials, and Non-Smokable Materials. The Data, would also allow the group to Configure Predictions of Ash-Shift, with a Matrix, once Measurements and Variables were Plugged into an appropriate Coded Program Logarithm, which helped them see, potential Shift Patterns, which may yet arise. The Furnishings, were to be kept as Permanent Pipes... Artefacts, for the Mansion, and Museum, of Swarma.
'Necrolith Spectre'. ~ The NicNeven's, "Necrolith Spectre," had a very real premise. She, had drawn Chi through her Summon of Feiz, by a Fix. ~
"Chi (# 14)": https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/%E3%81%A1
"Summon ("Korean," Language)": 徴 https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/%E5%BE%B4#Japanese
"Feiz ("Zhuang," Language)": https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/feiz#Zhuang
"Fix ("Bouyei," Language)": https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/fix
Andrew wrote obscurely,
My thought is that the Jinwen Bian, Bronze Inscription, of, "Fá (in the Mandarin Language)," ties itself over to, "Fät (in the "Volapük," Language)," and thus relates to, "Fate," and, "Karma."
"Fat (in the Cantonese Language)," means, "Buddha," and is related to, "Fá (in Mandarin)," while, "Fät (in the Voläpuk Language)," is characteristic of, "Buddhist Philosophy."
Does anyone else see the Structure of the Modern, "Wheel," in the Mandarin, "Fá?" - A.W.T. (November 18th, 2020).
‘A, “Marrow Vin Gean”’.
The Holy Spirit Sword cuts through to the Marrow. This is intended to mean that it is versatile. Only, more to the point, that it is not intended for vice.
How this happens, is that it has verses, in tandem occurrence, operating in relevant reflection, on Scripture, and is designed to heal. That is… before having thought of attack or rendering anyone ineffectual.
Wisdom from Jesus, in Scripture, teaches us, that, without Doctrinal relevance, and Revelation, we live on a Dying Planet and cause it.
~ Falling out of our mouths, if I may add. ~ The tongue is a venomous instrument, which apart from destroying, needs to be bridled with Scriptural Truth and or the Gospel, or healing falls away from what we know of vital spirit, sowing, growing, engrafting, and planning.
However picking up on any dead line of “Prayer Chain (for things truly are, by introspection, a righteously bidden, divine godly judgement's in of how to live by a planetary Monodeism and not just by correspondence, but mainly faith in Him),” to help, Christianly, defeat the death of the soul. [Angelic parameters, of what’s barred, of course had in, or it’s out a’barren]
Marrow is where the Blood Cells are created before reaching the Circulatory System.
This is in the bone.
Luz is the Catholic-Bidden Vertebrae/Spinal Column Bone for Resurrection.
As Jesus commands one to Live or the Tree not to grow for being of ill time, Our lines have a prayer solvency to that line of fess, by the Vin, or vine, and gean or Spirit.
However, Merovingeans are babylonian Dragon order. We needed it bidden less graven.
Made of Heaven, wise, the sword knows the hairs on the heads of the utilizers and counting unequal, may perform.
That is, off for bolder lead, and even balded for baring, out of the Worker’s Parable of God’s Constance and Unequal Nature, bearers of it's Fire, may see, and do oft’ find some in their know, of the Church Hold on Word.
Obvious?
This is the Rate Of Pay, in the Vineyard Parable, of the Workers who worked (un-in Mammon), for their Lord (Christ), earlier, and then some other, later (ie. When, in Truth, found bidden in and by Him, a fair constant is maintained, no matter World Climate, in the Fellowship), for and not toward, the forever, for they may not be bidden.
God unriddled.
Jesus, is the Amen in Revelations 3:14, He Ransoms Believers Souls, through Self Sacrifice and Sovereign Service, his father, created and lawed through the covenants, and the commandments, and owned all heaven host and hierarch, and the Holy Spirit, Blessed the Way.
'On What Could Have Been'.
An expensive matryoshka was brought in for Ralph to look at...
He received the package at his Estate, and had a hard time with his spectacles, adjusting them trying to read the fine print.
The brown paper parcel, with white sticker, opened to a smaller purple gift box, within it. The gift box was about the size of an order of chow mein, and from within the lilac tissue paper inside, was a golden doll. Andrei, Fu, and Evelyn, had driven back and were now seated around Mr. Dizzmith.
Well, here it is, he stated. No word of who it's from, not to mention that I'm not working anymore.
Is it another antique asked Andrei?
Yes, and well, I think it is, replied the Senior, but the thing is, I don't know how to open it. It's a Matryoshka or Russian Nesting Doll, and this one is rather expensive, but the Middle Circumference of the Doll has a Twistable-Dial Lock, and I've never known that to be the case before.
Would you wager all the others inside it are like that, too? asked Evelyn. I know what Matryoshkas are, but you're right. This one DOES seem a little bedeviled.
Perhaps said Ralph.
Do you think there is anything inside, asked Fu.
It looks a little weighty. Is it a bomb? Asked Evelyn.
Nobody would bomb a man like Mr. Dizzmith, said Andrei, but just to be on the safe side, I'll look it up. Andrei pulled out his Smart Phone.
Most bombs don't have Passcodes, said Fu. Look, the Passcode is right here on the box.
It says the code can be adjusted and is made to be matrilineal.
This is most definitely a finely-crafted specimen then, but how does it work? asked Ralph.
Well, it looks like every Doll has two turnable dials at the vertical middle, which run horizontal and around the circumference. These are adjusted from within, when open, and numerically set with dates for a passcode, before the top and bottom on each doll are latched, that is. Each doll is secured, around and over the former one, which has been latched or fastened, and each, in so doing, has its dials consecutively scrambled from the outside, before putting the next doll on it. The dolls are hollow, and increase in scale, to fit, while the locks operate by Birth Years of mothers, or rather, daughters. If one Mother or Grandmother, leaves a Sum, in her Will, to the, 'Matryoshka Fund', it will Increase in Interest, and if they send an Heirloom in With the Money, once the Company is Informed of the Birth of the Final Child, they will send the Doll to the Final Child, Heirloom within It. The Family History, and Records are Sent too, as the Locks are Set with Birth Years, of Mothers, in Chronological Order or First to Last, and this Prevents the Wrong Families from Accessing the Contents.
If No Contents, are Sent by the Ancestral Will-Bearer, Gifts-in-Shop, may also be Included, upon Initial Order Selection.
The Company/Fund, occasionally Touches Base with the Families, but this is Less Common.
Who is it for? asked Evelyn.
I have no idea, but there's some Weird Vial in it!
What could it be of, though?
Well, Matryoshka's are generally not compartments, made use of, for containing things, but this appears to be a Vial of Oil.
"Oyle," is a rare name for the Saviour, "Jesus Christ," remarked Andrei.
"Oyle ("Middle English," Language)": # 2.4. https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/oyle Maybe an Heiress, then? said Ralph. WHO could she have been?!
submitted by Bogey4hoo to u/Bogey4hoo [link] [comments]
At the, "Dere-Licht," Manor, upon the Steps of the Stairs, a Smoked Pipe was placed. In the very Centre of the Meeting Hall (the Room off to the Side from the Bottom of the Stairwell), there was another one, as well. Okay well, throughout the entire building... More like, a GREAT number!
Avem had them placed all throughout that Rebuilt Old Character House, and within that Glorified Mansion, there were Smoked Pipes, In and On Cupboards, Resting Upon Windowsills (with the Drapes Pulled or Left Open), upon Countertops, Hidden Inside of Bookshelves (if not Resting Upon them), of course on the Mantle, Hidden In and Around Corners.. at Every End, Above and Slightly Adjacent to Entrances, and even some, which were included upon the Tabletops...
All of these Smoking Pipes, some with Ashen Remainders in them, some only Constructed Models of, what we imagine, would have been kept for their Interest Sake, were watched by a Careful Set-Up, of Video Surveillance.
The Surveillance, Signaled Hanging Display Monitors, all throughout the House, and also at Avem's Lab in Tokyo. Some of these Monitors, were Hanging from the Ceiling, at the Walls, Facing Down and Into the Rooms. Others, in the Bedrooms, were Level with Sitting Chairs, where one might want to Sit Down and Look At Them.
They were Set Up, Primarily, To Catch Every Angle and Motion of Light or Shadow Upon or Within the Pipes. This Recording of Smoked Rememberances, took place Every Night and Day, from the Rising to the Setting of the Sun, all Throughout the Years. What were the Ashes for?
…
Granny Smith, he yelled. I'm telling you! She didn't believe him one bit. And you pretend you weren't looking for me!?...
She interrogated him fearsomely. Do you know who I am???
Do you know who I am, "Roared," Perry, back at her, bleakly. He was terrified. Though, he somehow managed to pull off a tone, which mirrored her own, with mock mavery.
Down the hall, there was a beep. Close the door, Swarma commanded, looking out through the interrogation Room's Exit. There was the sound of a, "fwoosh," and a, "click," outside of it. Nobody had been at the Exit, either to push or to pull it's heavy door, closed. There was also no telling, of where that other door might be. She took a swab and daubed Perry with it quickly, before leaving. Wait right here, she cackled, smiling a leerily-wisening old grin, as she left him to total.
She was sitting in Emergency, having just made it through Triage. These are for you, said the Faithful and Believing, Catholic Lady Friend of Wells, who passed her some Pamphlets from the Lecture.
The Professor had stopped everything, to see to it that this kind Lady, would bring Juniper to ER, post-haste. June had brought Ren along as a Study Buddy, for Note-Taking, with a Bribe.
Initially, June went out to the Mountains, to collect Perry's belongings from the Rented Cabin. Upon arriving back in town, both she and Ren decided to Drive out to the College for a Lecture, and to Sight-See, while asking people around the Area if they had Seen or Heard from Perry. Could he be haunting her somewhere? Was there any hope?
Although... the Professor HAD, abruptly interrupted his Lecture to find one of his CPR-trained staff to escort Juniper to the nearby Hospital E.R., in the event that she might not make it there herself, and was, "Truly," facing a Medical Crisis.
The Vending Machine, went lame, and the lights in ER flickered for a moment. I'm getting creeped, said Ren. That's all!
Some of Avem's Team, had been in the Trails previously, and Driven a Snowmobile through them, tracing Chemicals through the Snow. A or Spoken Split. It had been at just one of her Lab's Testing Zones.
Avem had caught onto Perry, first, when her Voice Exploded from a Crackling Ice Wyrm/ “i”’Sāqa-Šaqqa, in the Cabin's Fireplace.
Avem had been Writing her Vocals into the Chemical Strains of the Ice-Wyrm Constituency Potion, which she concocted in her Lab, and Spread Rumours about, then Codifying it with Automatic Cyber-Sentience Response-Forms, which took initiatives, based on Environmental Factors, and in turn, fed back Information. This Data, was made readable by her Reverse Tonic, which Tabulated it, by Codices, which had Variables in her own Mental Inter-Framing. Cog-Notes, if you will, to her own Cognition. All of, these, Variables, which entered her Consideration, let her Pry, both on Known, and Unknown, Territories. She frequently Drank her Cyber-Tonic from a Vial in her Lab, while going over Her Work.
The Wyrms were Sounding Off, in an Acoustics Array, and Perry, Bounded and Rebounded Turning Listless as the Chrysalids Exited him, and Becoming Reinterred into Motion Again, by their Sounds. He was now, well... Not Feeling Like a Perry. That and he was Done, Done, and, "Roared," out. He could No Longer even Find his Own Vocal to Bless How He Felt. Avem came back in, when the Turnabout was Over. She had Observed Perry by a Camera Hidden in the Room, which was Hooked up to her Monitors for Surveillance, as well. Turning on a Ventilation Fan, from outside, which led the Room's Air into a Separate Chamber, she had Two People, Dressed in Dark Robes, walk in, and move Perry back to his Chair, now Limp. They Swept Up, the Remaining Crystalline Deciduates, and Drains Opened, which Took the Little Bit of Liquidine Debris, Out of the Room. Perry, was now Toned.
Swarma, Placed her Hand on his Forehead, at First to Take his Temperature, and then, Mentally Calibrating his Vocal Remembrance within Herself, Uttered a Word to him, While he sat Slumped over the Chair, Catatonic. The Word.
And Therein, may be a Key... His Subconscious Mind, would most certainly Remember. She Had Uttered It, in His Very Own Vocal Tone. Why? It Rendered him Cognizant and Triggered His Mentality, as though His Own... Though, Truly?... Her Own.
A chandelier hung above them, and the room had an overview of the gated entrance, where birds were often seen in trees, and light could pour in, but at night, the glass of these windows turned sheet-black to buffet them in, high enough up that none might peep.
By no commotion of ceremony, the participants would stand and hear the NicNeven recite her Canon address. The fruits her Science had yielded, sounded in the Hall, and into their collective memory, which disbanded when they did, after she read from her book.
The book, made from gene paper, was their Canon, and this... only a meeting hall. Despite its congressional form, summons were not of sell out to World Teachings. She ranked as their Science-elected, matriarch, of mental-modernity, by the facet of old typings and tyings, to, "new," teachings.
Ruminations from the fruits of her labwork, thereat would be discussed. For if nobody would have them, they most certainly would. Then, and only then, would the lines be codographed (some of the Night-Watch, were also very good hackers). They were secretly culted-over, but by few, and their practicum bore method, not mere devotion. The team were, "Nec-Will'O’Mancer"-affiliate.
~ In Other Words: The Elaborately Sinched False-Label on Tobacco Smoke. ~
…
That It Came From, Túḫ-ḫa-a-iz-zi: "To Produce Smoke."
A Variant Of This Hittite Language Word (In Imperative Plural), Is, "Tuḫḫāndu."
…
Because, 'Tuh': Means to, "Pour"/"Give Birth"/"Lay Eggs"/"Touha (Which, implies, by, "Desire")," And/Or, "Tuha," https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/tuh
This, As Well As, 'Tuhh': "Thousand"/"Grand"/"Tonn,” by the Proponent of Measure. https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/tuhh
&
... 'Tuha': "Tuba." https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/туъһа
Where, ... 'Tuba' (Malay Language): Is a, "Poison That Is Made Out Of Root." https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/tuba
Plus, it’s, 'Tuba' (Malay Language), Gives "Duva (Fijian Language),"
For 'Dūbǭ' (Dutch Language): https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/Reconstruction:Proto-Germanic/dūbǭ * 'Dūbǭ', Can Mean, "Dove." *
Thus, “Height.” Though, Holy Spirit (Or Prayers) still, “Intemn”/”Imprison,” you as Indebted by Material Snare (Karmic-Causal Renditions), if not off of it.
…
~ After Tuh, Which Too, Is Tuha.. And Tuha, Which With Tuhh, Is Thousand.. ~
... Kamba Language: "Andu,” for, “Mundu."
• Making, "Tuḫḫāndu."
…
The Reason Why, Is Because,
"Andu (Kamba Language)": "Mundu,"
And "Mundu (Kamba Language)": "A Man,"
When,
"Mʊ̀ntʊ̀ (Proto-Bantu Language)": "Kɪ̀ntʊ̀"/"Thing,"
And "Kɪ̀ntʊ̀"/"Thing,"
When Translated To Nyasa, Chichewa Language: "Chinthu."
This Last Addition Indicates The
- "Co."
Which Would Be The World, If Not By Dove-Letterate.
- Jehu, Jehu, He’ish I Say too. *
- Anyhow, the Natives know it by another name. Hope you've enjoyed the Lesson!
His stupor adored him with affection, and he had a hammering affectation from it. It caused him to clout his knowing, though only briefly.
Perry came through, yamming… I’m looking back on days of Candy Cloaker Gobstoppers! You mean you literally had me erased… or, where am I?
You Hide no Burger, in Finding Fries, Perald. Daytime is where I have you.
At that, there had been an unconventional or out-of-the-norm convening, where not-an-one of all the attendants had-in, to agree, "We are Necropolitan"... Though, their greed to know, would grow.
Perry led himself back in, looking for his girlfriend, strangely feeling sold out of his nut.
…
Ironically, it was just at that point that Juniper had made it there. She too was undergoing her thought detexturing, “rinse,” that is, the opposite of any detox, after looking like a Raisin May's, “In.”
This was to be the, “Turnabout (a new Ceremony was declared by Avem’s Host in Relative-Caster Company, and held somewhat like a House Party).”
A $9,000.00 Maitland Smith Dollhouse Bar Cabinet, was off in isolated room of the newly Renovated Manor, with a load of Porcelain Dolls and cameras to watch it.
That room was off limits.
Juniper had had it in her know long afore, in dream. Now to hack Avem… oh, where?
…
"Osa," circuit of my air... How can, "I," enfold you? Swarma asked, with a vestitude, which only, behooved to surmise her, with surreptitious guiltiness of paridyllic refrain.
She, “The NicNeven,” winked meaningfully, holding an extremely rare pipe up, skyward.
The Time Wraiths all sat, in their, “F”arm-Ended Theatre apart from the once-Ballroom.
Quieting down, it was in their circle that a cast occurred, but in truth they were no relative summoners and Avem’s Mafia had elected them afresh.
That is… that as they were all a, somewhat afraid and eerily sketched out, “Fresh Crop,” yet and though, she would in fact, have them richly afforded, in Good Time.
…
Avem’s Mafia had sent the former Nec-Will’O’Mancers over to her Manor for the Renovations.
Avem, then, was Crowned, “Accorded,” and the Newly Selected Time Wraiths, could be Trained.
Avem’s Clue In, in her new Role, while in her old Manor seemed to live in it’s espies.
I mean, they must have had her drugged for the whole house to be enchanted, somehow, but the only question is who set it up, and when?
One of her clues, came from a former Nec-Will’O’Mancer silently shadow-encoaching a novice approved in the group, by his far larger boding of path had, in-the-off. She heard the man in her head as well, ruling that Smith had to explore her ties in the Mafia, through rank, a second time, and thus a later, termed-submission as a right of accession, had been officed.
She, once again (the man went over in his mind) being indoctrinated into Mafia rank, though slowly, because her freedom-release methods, were her own merital device, and she needed a longer time to work at them.
Avem, had canned herself intentionally, to stay at a head, but nobody fully knew, how it was done.
Reptilian Mind Control.
-‐-
How could that be?
Look to the Wind, and we shall ride. ~ "Phantom Riding The Whip," where one is not standing on top of a vehicle, but rather, riding over a different type of, "Whip," as a, "Phantom-Circuit." ~
"Now we admonish," they recited.
"Peace be," stated the NicNeven. She inhaled from the lit pipe.
They all, “doned,” her infuriatingness, with amicability.
Now yes, your highest love, and what’s our gift they forecried, awaiting something.
Not of in an any Dib of forgery… You will undoubtedly see. She canned.
Please don’t mess us or master us mental, Avem, one girl joked, admitting the kind dark lair WAS weird.
That's Missus, Avem relegated ghasting.
…
Now, I have here the document they stole it from, a man entering the room said. He read aloud,
The remains of a, "chicote"/"cigar butt"/"cigarette butt."
The Nec-Will'O'Mancers, then stated in unison, reading off of the pamphlets they'd previously been handed out, though in a less clear-and-determined tone, or well (it seemed), in a way that hummed and wandered.
"... Far l'fo, Ho glow. How we sway. How does a hard tar, Lie her thieu, In a chi, icy high..."?
When they were finished reciting, the man continued speaking.
By, "sukunai," "少ない," the man continued in Japanese… a word, which means, "few or little," with the root word, "少し ("すこし," "sukoshi").""
Avem exhaled. "The synonym for, which is, "chotto," she said. So yes... in other words? "A little." "ちょっと ("chotto")," may I add, it has a root word in the adverb, "chito..." "... "ちと ("chito")," as in, "slightly," "a little," "a bit," or, "somewhat," where, "ち ("chi," means, “small”)," and, "と ("to," is an adverbial particle). "と ("to")," is also a noun, which is short for, "と金 (tokin)," which will now indicate a promoted, "歩兵 ("fuhyō," or, "pawn”)," that, "moves," like a, "金将 ("kinshō," or, “gold general”).""
Thus, what might have been inferred, perhaps, was that a, "Chicote," in a pipe, was, more or less, alike unto a, "Chi Chót," if it did indeed implicate such.
A, "Chót," of course, meaning something at the, "Bottom," "Lowest Extremity," or, "End," of something, and from there, or at that point, perhaps even then moving forward.
Chicote, apart from being a form of Tobacco, was also, in all truth, a form of, "Whip," known for being a Scourge, in places like the Congo.
The NicNeven, had already caught wise to this, and also how, this form of Tobacco, may have had it's own "Xicohtli (a Nahuatl word, for, "Bumblebee")."
I guess, what needed to be said most (as a nod to the Indigenous People), was that they were good to hold a Peace over the Herb, and also Bow...
Some people may have needed a Peace Blessed over them, knowing the Nature of how all Words exist with ties to Power.
…
This time, however, she was not merely dreaming with the pipe. She aimed to begin work on something more pivotal. Holding her peace, over them, as though the Time Wraiths had not, in fact, been led by her to keep a different mindset, themselves, she kept them aware, of the part of her mind they were let in by.
A part, they would not be able to share. When inhaling, she did so with a strickening wind, through sympathetic diacords and resonance fields, and from a region locked onto by the Time Wraiths collective awareness. The NicNeven (we presume, remaining silent somewhere at the top of an, "imaginary," but quite irregal, circuit of Heaven, and with her pipe), had her whole lot hidden safely away, and blessed unseen.
She, "wind-let," her chosen remote area, with the pipe, from a distance, as though it were a whip and a scourge, creating yet another (this time stronger), bane.
Her smoke summons, were such that, she hoped to collect and open them, one day, as a portal, to dawn on the World.
As for the pipe vision. This one was well formed. She might have make a centrepiece of it, on table somewhere.
Many of them, rested on glass plates, with glass cases overtop. After their Surveillance Circuit had run, "Ash-Line Data," or, "Pipe Particle Intel," was fed through a Computer on the Ash-Configuracy, Analysis-Observancy Program, of the, 'Night-Watch Circuit', of the, "Time Wraiths"-Network, and for a Number of Reasons...
One, being that the Data, would often be used to reproduce these, "In-Pipe Visions," as, "Viable Product-for-Sale ("Furnishings from the, "Furnace,"" so-to-speak)," and so they needed a Good Record of Analysis kept for Reproduction. "Pipe Reproductions," would be made using more Durable Materials, and Non-Smokable Materials. The Data, would also allow the group to Configure Predictions of Ash-Shift, with a Matrix, once Measurements and Variables were Plugged into an appropriate Coded Program Logarithm, which helped them see, potential Shift Patterns, which may yet arise. The Furnishings, were to be kept as Permanent Pipes... Artefacts, for the Mansion, and Museum, of Swarma.
'Necrolith Spectre'. ~ The NicNeven's, "Necrolith Spectre," had a very real premise. She, had drawn Chi through her Summon of Feiz, by a Fix. ~
"Summon ("Korean," Language)": 徴 https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/%E5%BE%B4#Japanese
"Feiz ("Zhuang," Language)": https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/feiz#Zhuang
"Fix ("Bouyei," Language)": https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/fix
My thought is that the Jinwen Bian, Bronze Inscription, of, "Fá (in the Mandarin Language)," ties itself over to, "Fät (in the "Volapük," Language)," and thus relates to, "Fate," and, "Karma."
"Fat (in the Cantonese Language)," means, "Buddha," and is related to, "Fá (in Mandarin)," while, "Fät (in the Voläpuk Language)," is characteristic of, "Buddhist Philosophy."
Does anyone else see the Structure of the Modern, "Wheel," in the Mandarin, "Fá?" - A.W.T. (November 18th, 2020).
- No-one knew why. *
The Holy Spirit Sword cuts through to the Marrow. This is intended to mean that it is versatile. Only, more to the point, that it is not intended for vice.
How this happens, is that it has verses, in tandem occurrence, operating in relevant reflection, on Scripture, and is designed to heal. That is… before having thought of attack or rendering anyone ineffectual.
Wisdom from Jesus, in Scripture, teaches us, that, without Doctrinal relevance, and Revelation, we live on a Dying Planet and cause it.
~ Falling out of our mouths, if I may add. ~ The tongue is a venomous instrument, which apart from destroying, needs to be bridled with Scriptural Truth and or the Gospel, or healing falls away from what we know of vital spirit, sowing, growing, engrafting, and planning.
However picking up on any dead line of “Prayer Chain (for things truly are, by introspection, a righteously bidden, divine godly judgement's in of how to live by a planetary Monodeism and not just by correspondence, but mainly faith in Him),” to help, Christianly, defeat the death of the soul. [Angelic parameters, of what’s barred, of course had in, or it’s out a’barren]
Marrow is where the Blood Cells are created before reaching the Circulatory System.
This is in the bone.
Luz is the Catholic-Bidden Vertebrae/Spinal Column Bone for Resurrection.
As Jesus commands one to Live or the Tree not to grow for being of ill time, Our lines have a prayer solvency to that line of fess, by the Vin, or vine, and gean or Spirit.
However, Merovingeans are babylonian Dragon order. We needed it bidden less graven.
- Remember the Holy Ghost is of the Burning Bush, with Moses, in Exodus, in The Holy Bible (and not only there).
Made of Heaven, wise, the sword knows the hairs on the heads of the utilizers and counting unequal, may perform.
That is, off for bolder lead, and even balded for baring, out of the Worker’s Parable of God’s Constance and Unequal Nature, bearers of it's Fire, may see, and do oft’ find some in their know, of the Church Hold on Word.
Obvious?
This is the Rate Of Pay, in the Vineyard Parable, of the Workers who worked (un-in Mammon), for their Lord (Christ), earlier, and then some other, later (ie. When, in Truth, found bidden in and by Him, a fair constant is maintained, no matter World Climate, in the Fellowship), for and not toward, the forever, for they may not be bidden.
God unriddled.
Jesus, is the Amen in Revelations 3:14, He Ransoms Believers Souls, through Self Sacrifice and Sovereign Service, his father, created and lawed through the covenants, and the commandments, and owned all heaven host and hierarch, and the Holy Spirit, Blessed the Way.
An expensive matryoshka was brought in for Ralph to look at...
He received the package at his Estate, and had a hard time with his spectacles, adjusting them trying to read the fine print.
The brown paper parcel, with white sticker, opened to a smaller purple gift box, within it. The gift box was about the size of an order of chow mein, and from within the lilac tissue paper inside, was a golden doll. Andrei, Fu, and Evelyn, had driven back and were now seated around Mr. Dizzmith.
Well, here it is, he stated. No word of who it's from, not to mention that I'm not working anymore.
Is it another antique asked Andrei?
Yes, and well, I think it is, replied the Senior, but the thing is, I don't know how to open it. It's a Matryoshka or Russian Nesting Doll, and this one is rather expensive, but the Middle Circumference of the Doll has a Twistable-Dial Lock, and I've never known that to be the case before.
Would you wager all the others inside it are like that, too? asked Evelyn. I know what Matryoshkas are, but you're right. This one DOES seem a little bedeviled.
Perhaps said Ralph.
Do you think there is anything inside, asked Fu.
It looks a little weighty. Is it a bomb? Asked Evelyn.
Nobody would bomb a man like Mr. Dizzmith, said Andrei, but just to be on the safe side, I'll look it up. Andrei pulled out his Smart Phone.
Most bombs don't have Passcodes, said Fu. Look, the Passcode is right here on the box.
It says the code can be adjusted and is made to be matrilineal.
This is most definitely a finely-crafted specimen then, but how does it work? asked Ralph.
Well, it looks like every Doll has two turnable dials at the vertical middle, which run horizontal and around the circumference. These are adjusted from within, when open, and numerically set with dates for a passcode, before the top and bottom on each doll are latched, that is. Each doll is secured, around and over the former one, which has been latched or fastened, and each, in so doing, has its dials consecutively scrambled from the outside, before putting the next doll on it. The dolls are hollow, and increase in scale, to fit, while the locks operate by Birth Years of mothers, or rather, daughters. If one Mother or Grandmother, leaves a Sum, in her Will, to the, 'Matryoshka Fund', it will Increase in Interest, and if they send an Heirloom in With the Money, once the Company is Informed of the Birth of the Final Child, they will send the Doll to the Final Child, Heirloom within It. The Family History, and Records are Sent too, as the Locks are Set with Birth Years, of Mothers, in Chronological Order or First to Last, and this Prevents the Wrong Families from Accessing the Contents.
If No Contents, are Sent by the Ancestral Will-Bearer, Gifts-in-Shop, may also be Included, upon Initial Order Selection.
The Company/Fund, occasionally Touches Base with the Families, but this is Less Common.
Who is it for? asked Evelyn.
I have no idea, but there's some Weird Vial in it!
What could it be of, though?
Well, Matryoshka's are generally not compartments, made use of, for containing things, but this appears to be a Vial of Oil.
"Oyle," is a rare name for the Saviour, "Jesus Christ," remarked Andrei.
"Oyle ("Middle English," Language)": # 2.4. https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/oyle Maybe an Heiress, then? said Ralph. WHO could she have been?!
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