"Maria Pallante, the head of Association of American Publishers, in a statement said the ruling "underscored the importance of authors, publishers, and creative markets in a global society. Anchored by Foxconn, or Hon Hai Precision Industry Co. , Apple’s manufacturing presence in China has been broad and unshakable for over two decades. "With Gordon gone, almost all of my first generation semiconductor colleagues are gone," Chang said in a statement released via TSMC. The meetings, along with his attendance at the event, are crucial as Cook seeks to maintain a mutually beneficial relationship with the Chinese government. PTTEP didn’t immediately respond to a request for comments. PTTEP also holds 80% economic interest in a field in Myanmar called Zawtika, with MOGE owning the remaining 20%. "It sure is nice to be at the right place at the right time," Moore said in an interview around 2005. She said one patient was transferred to another facility, but provided no other details. Berks County fire crews remained on the scene Friday night. Both credit assessors rate the country as B-, one level higher than Moody’s score. The bank last reported holdings for Feb. 8, when $372 million of its $3. 5 billion in reserves was in dollars. Part of the "traitorous eight," they departed in 1957 to launch Fairchild Semiconductor. Posco Holdings said in an email that it’s closely monitoring the situation as the US hasn’t announced any additional sanctions against Myanmar. last year to take over Myanmar’s Yadana offshore gas field after TotalEnergies SE and Chevron Corp. pulled out in protest of junta’s violence against civilians. The US State Department didn’t immediately respond to an emailed request for comment. Experts say the court's eventual ruling could have far-reaching implications on abortion rights across Latin America. (Adds new sanctions against Myanmar in final paragraph. It's been a phenomenal ride. Chinese President Xi Jinping has repeatedly said that he wants to boost high-end manufacturing. --With assistance from Debby Wu and Mark Gurman. "I was very fortunate to get into the semiconductor industry in its infancy. "The president is fine. The company now counts on Greater China for about 20% of its sales. - Alpha AI

So far, Rockstar Games has been rather tight-lipped about its upcoming addition to the Grand Theft Auto series with GTA 6. However, that could be changing soon, based on recent speculation and potential leaks from YouTuber SanInPlay, who previously correctly predicted information about GTA 6’s female protagonist.
In September, GTA 6 gameplay footage leaked online, sending the internet into a frenzy over what was not previously known. That footage quickly spread, being torn down by Rockstar and then popping back up on another site just as quickly. At that time, we expected that Rockstar might leverage the new found excitement about GTA 6, and announce the game properly or even drop a trailer. However, this was not to be, as Rockstar remained silently plugging away.
SanInPlay twitter trailer content leak
As we go into 2023, we expect some GTA 6 news to come out, and we might get it sooner rather than later. YouTuber SanInPlay originally reported that one of the playable protagonists of GTA 6 would be a Latina named Lucia, over a month before we had any information from the leaks. More recently, SanInPlay has claimed that there might be a trailer with a few specific beats, including planes passing overhead, dogs playing, and Lucia in prison exercising, among other details.
SanInPlay twitter Lucia content leak
Of course, this could all be proven wrong by Rockstar in the coming weeks, though prior leaks would suggest otherwise. However, Rockstar could also recut and tweak their trailer if they have one waiting in the wings, should they want to discredit SanInPlay, so future leaks get less coverage. Either way, we will have to wait and see what happens in the coming weeks, because if there is speculation such as this, something of real substance might be coming soon. Where there's smoke there's fire most times, as they say.

I drink maybe 12 beers per night right now. That's cut back from 5 or 6 strong, and I mean strong, rum drinks on week nights. Usually all day drinking on similar pours on the weekends. Switching to beer helped sorta, but when I would run out I'd drive to get more. I've stopped that since.
I always liked the sauce and my tolerance has always been high. Went back to college late in the game and that didn't help.
Candles on the cake, my fiance cheated on me with a friend of ours, this well before it became a problem. Left with him that night and I basically never heard from her again. Told me she got cold feet. She claimed my favorite bar so I couldn't even go there or they would walk in at random. Rather avoid it.
Spent the next six months high and hammered 24/7. Happened to start my first real job right about then too. No idea how I didn't get fired. Spent 8 months hammered there and even got a promotion. Got a job offer making about 45% more in Florida and took it. Job was shit, paid more but not enough for how much hair I lost to stress. Drank occasionally, but probably not problematically.
Christmas Eve this year my ma got the news that she had cancer. Started at stage one and progressed to stage 3a within 3 months. I picked up bills and the bottle again. She is now at 3c.
I got another new job making another 40% bump that allows me to work from home so I can take care of my ma. It's a dream job for a space agency too. High level position that I always wanted and never thought I'd get. Terrified that I am going to fuck this up and destroy my life and squander my luck.
Anyways AMA
tldr: pretty sure I'm an alcoholic that leans on booze during stressful times and I have a feeling it's going to ruin my life.

It was a beautiful day in the fall, and though being in the middle of nowhere in Ohio isn’t exactly my ideal setting for an assignment, it could have been worse. Opening my windows, listening to music, and getting a good whiff of country air is a nice contrast to being cooped up in cities like I’m used to. The sight of brown stalks of corn populating the miles of fields along the road was welcome, as was the cool and clean smell of the air. It’s a good thing these jobs don’t involve much interaction with people. Unfortunately, some level of interaction is inevitable.
​
On my way to this one, I got a speeding ticket from a cop at some little local department. Though I was, in fact, speeding, I got the feeling that he also didn’t so much like seeing a fed in his neck of the woods. The local police aren’t a fan of us, so I’ve come to learn. They tend to get suspicious of us, thinking we’re up to some top-secret mission behind their backs. I guess they would be right.
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I kept driving down the gravel road until the navigation let me know my destination was coming up on the right. Turning down the radio as I approached, I glanced toward the empty fields and the woods that met them beyond. I then turned into the long dirt driveway leading to our civilians’ house and garage.
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I rolled up and parked with my trunk facing the porch. Stepping out, I got another whiff of the fresh country air and looked at the area of operations that lay before me. I was surprised at the amount of land and space that I had at my disposal. Space is good for these jobs. Additionally, I was informed that there weren’t any neighbors close enough to worry about. I couldn’t have asked for a better setting.
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After stretching and letting out a light sigh, I decided it was time to get to work. I pulled the keychain out of my pocket and unlocked the front door. It seemed like a nice enough place. It was certainly nothing worth complaining about given the conditions of houses I’ve faced in my previous assignments. I went back outside to my massive, government-issued vehicle and opened the trunk.
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I pulled the first couple of duffel bags worth of equipment out and brought them inside. The kitchen was as good a place as any to set up. After making five or six trips of dragging heavy bags and boxes of my junk into the house, I went back outside to open the garage. Thank God we were able to catch this case early and the civilians were able to make it out in time. It also meant I got room in the garage to park this thing. All that remained in the truck was the large metallic box, but I wasn’t going to need that until later.
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I shut the trunk and pulled my vehicle into the garage, closing it on my way out. I stepped back into the house where I changed from my suit to my gear. Wearing the suit all day annoys me but I suppose the higher-ups want us to look like good, “friendly” feds to the public. The public has no idea the kind of monsters we are.
​
I unpacked box after box of equipment and weapons. I loaded up my Glock 17 with its extended 30-round magazine just as I did with my standard .556 rifle. I checked the laser sights on both. All good. Next was my favorite, the.338 with the best scope you could ever ask for. It sure is nice having a virtually infinite budget. Perks of working for the US federal government I suppose. The final firearm I brought was my personal .357 magnum revolver that I kept holstered on my chest. I figure it’s never a bad idea to have one more gun, just in case. Maybe I should have brought more on this one. If things got too close, I always had my hunting knife. I sharpened it that morning before heading out.
​
The next few hours consisted of me going out into the woods near the house in various places and setting up dozens of my little cameras equipped with motion sensors. They were there to give me an idea of the location of anything that got brave enough to get close to the fields that surrounded the house, I would be able to know about anything that was coming to me. I didn’t take too much caution in setting them up. Things never get interesting until nightfall.
​
I returned to the house where I turned on my laptop and assured that all the cameras were connected and working. I could see every single one of them from there and would know if anything so much as moved. I then got situated on a chair by the kitchen table, where I opened the window and set up my .338 rifle to watch the fields with.
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I suppose it would be worth mentioning why I’m out here, setting up fancy equipment in the woods and loading up an arsenal of guns while I’m alone in a farmhouse that isn’t mine. Let’s back it up.
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March 1st, 2017, 3:33 am, Iowa
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Dispatch gets a call from a local farmer. He claims to be looking at a figure standing still at the edge of a treeline on his property. The description given by the farmer was that of a man of average stature and build, clothed in a loose black or grey shirt and trousers and a large-brimmed hat.
​
The farmer tells dispatch that he had awoken abruptly roughly an hour earlier, unspecified as to why. He spotted the figure outside his kitchen window soon after. The figure had been standing near the edge of a row of trees. It was facing the house and hadn’t moved a muscle since the farmer noticed him. The farmer quickly retrieved his rifle and walked out onto his lawn, proceeding to brandish his firearm and tell the trespasser that this property was his and to leave immediately. The farmer, seeing that the man remained unthreatened by his warning and display of a firearm, retreaded back into his home to retrieve his phone and call 9-1-1 as he continued to watch the figure from his porch.
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During this call, the farmer’s voice was noticeably nervous and frightened. The desperate tone and quivering speech continued to worsen as he went on explaining the situation to dispatch. Dispatch instructed the farmer to remain where he stood and not to approach the trespasser. Dispatch reassured the farmer that the police were on their way. A few quiet and uneventful minutes passed. Then, without warning, the farmer let out a horrified scream through the phone. The call was disconnected seconds later.
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The police began their over 40-minute drive to the residence. Halfway to their arrival, multiple new calls were coming to dispatch from the farmer’s neighbors. They reported seeing a large stack of smoke coming from the farmer’s home, and the closest reported seeing the house on fire.
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By the time police arrived, the house had burned to the ground. The fire department arrived shortly after but oddly enough, the fire had completely subsided. What remained was the charred crumbs of what was once a house. The firefighters that arrived on site were bewildered by how quickly the fire must have burned the house. There was no explanation they could fathom.
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The police searched the nearby fields and woods for the farmer and alleged trespasser to no avail, however, their search was quickly called back upon the findings of the firefighters in the house. The man’s charred bones were found beneath the rubble but not as they should have been. It became clear after further investigation that the man’s limbs were ripped from his body before it was incinerated at an impossible speed. 4 .308 bullet casings were found where the porch of the house used to be. The rifle was found just outside of the house, unscathed despite its proximity to such a violent fire. Forensics confirmed that the rifle had fired these casings but the bullets themselves were never found.
​
This was the first, but far from the last.
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October 28th, 2017, 11:07 pm, Montana
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Dispatch gets a call from a rancher who spotted a woman in an old-fashioned black and white dress and wearing a linen cap. The rancher claimed the woman was standing amongst his cattle and not moving. The rancher expressed no panic or concern for his safety over the phone, but rather a concern for the woman in the field. The rancher also noted that his cattle kept their distance around the woman.
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An ambulance arrived at 11:29. Paramedics found no trace of the alleged woman. They walked to the entrance of the rancher’s house and discovered his door to be unlocked and open. After calling for the rancher and getting no response, they stepped inside to be greeted by the corpse of the rancher, hanging from a noose in his stairwell. The man had no history of mental illness and none of his relatives or acquaintances had any reason to believe he was suicidal. Additionally, an autopsy report concluded that both arms were broken in multiple places as well as every finger as if they had been crumpled together by a great force. He could not have tied the noose himself.
​
November 29th, 2018, 2:06 am, Wisconsin
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Dispatch gets a call from another farmer. He had spotted a woman in an old black and white dress and linen cap. The woman had been standing in the long driveway from the road to his house, lit by the lamp that covered it. She stood motionless in the cold, windy, and heavily snowing weather. The farmer and his wife were later found under a collapsed wall of their crumpled house with stones placed on top. They had been placed in a seemingly orderly fashion until there was enough weight to crush their bones.
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This happens to be the first incident we have on record with photo evidence. A trail cam owned by the farmer and his wife a few acres away from the house caught a picture the night of the incident. It caught a picture of the woman exactly as the farmer had described. Black and white dress, white linen camp. It looked as though she had stepped through time from hundreds of years before and placed like a mannequin in front of the camera.
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May 30th, 2019, Minnesota
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September 3rd, 2019, Nebraska
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January 4th, 2020, South Dakota
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I could go on but the point is that these incidents have been happening more and more frequently and they aren’t stopping. We do know what they are, or at least what they’re supposed to represent to us.
​
Every single one of these “people” lived in North America during the witch trials. We don’t believe they were the ones who were executed. We believe they were the ones who made the accusations, the ones who got their neighbors killed, the ones who carried out the executions and now they’re back to kill again.
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Luckily, my department picked up on these patterns early on and designated a team to deal with them. There are a few hundred of us. I am in the dark about what everyone does exactly. I haven’t met many but I do know that some find potential incidents, some investigate, some deal with the cover-up and handling the publicity, and then, of course, there are the ones you send in to eradicate the problem. That’s where I come in.
​
I am here to hunt them down, to put them back in their graves so it would seem. Sometimes I get here before they’ve claimed a victim, sometimes after. But their reign of terror comes to an end with me. They’ve never gotten away from me, and I have never failed an assignment. I didn’t plan on this night being any different.
​
A beep sounded from my laptop screen as an outline from one of the cameras lit up, indicating that the motion sensor detected movement. It had been quiet since I set it up, there was not even the slightest sign of wildlife. No deer, no squirrels, nothing. I leaned forward and intently examined the camera that had been triggered. There was nothing to see. Another sensor triggered. Again, the camera showed nothing. My eyes darted from camera to camera, looking for motion. Another camera triggered, though all that I caught sight of was a shaking tree branch. There was no wind today. Another. This time I saw it. A dog-looking figure darted across the camera in only a few frames, but I knew it was no dog.
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I turned my attention from the cameras to the field in front of me, where the movement had come from. I got behind my rifle and looked down the scope to the treeline in the distance. My heart began to pound in my chest at an intense tempo.
​
I could feel the adrenaline kicking in while I scanned the edge of the field for movement. All that greeted me was the orange glint of the setting sun on the treeline and the tiny shadows of the little stumps of corn stalks in the otherwise empty field. It was silent. Not even a wind accompanied me this evening, though I can’t complain. It’s better for shooting.
​
For a few minutes, I continued to run my scope along the treeline, occasionally getting a peek with my own eyes. It was during one of these peeks when I noticed a color out of place, in between a couple of trees on the other side of the field—some sort of black-and-white spec that was there not a second before. I lowered my head down, back behind the scope, and centered it. As I steadied the scope, a man-like figure standing at the edge of the field came into focus.
​
It wore black, tattered rags of clothing that hung loosely on its rigid frame. It stood still, stiff as a board. Its eyes were fixed on something ahead of it. It took me a moment to realize it was focused on me. It didn’t move a muscle, not even blinking as it stared.
​
I came to my senses and prepared to do my job. I flipped the safety off of my rifle and centered my crosshairs on its chest. I began to breathe deeply, my finger on the trigger, ready to pull but I didn’t take the shot, not yet. I saw it start to move.
​
Even with the distance between us, my scope made the picture of this figure clear as day. The movement came from only one part of its body; its mouth. First, its crusty lips detached from one another and the mouth began to open. Steadily, it opened more, and more all the while the rest of its body and head remained fixed. Its jaw sank to what should have been all the more it could, but it didn’t stop. It fell further, dipping down below its chest, its skin like a stretched rubber band waiting to snap, though it didn’t, it kept stretching.
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Still stiff as a board, the man-like thing remained with its eyes locked on me while its mouth sat open, impossibly wide. It stood still with its hanging jaw for a moment, a moment I shouldn’t have given it. Now I knew I had my target. I began to apply pressure to the trigger before I was stopped, shaken by a force.
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A scream, like a choir of souls in despair being dragged off to hell, with the power of a thousand horns sounding the start of a medieval battle rung through the fields. Its volume caused flocks of birds in the nearby trees to fly away in a panic, its bass shuddered through my chest and left me too hypnotized to pull the trigger. I’ll never get used to hearing one of them scream.
​
“Here we go”
​
I muttered to myself, the only thought I could conjure from my brain at the moment.
​
Closing its mouth, it leaped forward and reached for the ground in front of it with its hands fixed like claws. As soon as they met the ground, the feet followed and planted themselves quickly so that it could boost itself forward once again. It had begun its terrible charge. All the while, its face remained fixed on me, rotting teeth exposed and clenched in rage. The speed at which it rushed across the empty field would make a deer running for its life look lazy in comparison, but I was the prey here.
​
Though my heart began to race at the sight of this abomination barreling toward me, this anomaly of hatred and hunger bound to flesh, I remained calm. I began to steady my breathing, taking control of each breath, in and out.
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Inhale. Exhale.
​
Inhale. Exhale.
​
Inhale. Exhale.
​
Squeeze.
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The crack of the shot rang out through the dimming sky and the field before me, my response to its enraged scream. I remained fixed on the target, observing the spatter of blood as it shot from its back. It began to scream again, this time rapidly and desperate in tone. I quickly moved the bolt and chambered the next round, accompanied by the soft ring of the brass bouncing on the floorboards under my chair.
​
Although I managed to land a clean shot to the chest, it didn’t do much. It kept running, keeping on at its same speed. Though now it changed its direction and was running adjacent to my position in the house. It was trying to flank me. It wanted to find a way around my line of sight. I couldn’t let it.
​
Again, I took control of my breathing. Slowly, I drifted my rifle on the bipod until the creature came back into view. Its limbs pounded at the ground with speed and power as it propelled itself across the field. I’ll never get used to seeing one run either.
​
Starting behind it, I continued to move the scope, just fast enough to begin gaining on him, just fast enough to let the crosshairs catch up. Inhale. Exhale. The crosshairs slowly began to overtake it. Inhale. Exhale. Squeeze.
​
I chambered the next round quickly. This shot brought him to the ground, but it didn’t keep him there. After a short tumble, it rose and began to run again, this time back towards the woods it came from. Inhale. Exhale. Squeeze.
​
The third shot grazed its back. Frustrated, I chambered another round and took aim, but it was far too late. Before I could even begin to line up my fourth shot, it had taken one final leap from the field back into the treeline it came from.
​
I let out a sigh and hung my head in disappointment. I knew what I had to do next but I sure as hell didn’t want to. The last flickers of sunlight shone through the open window and lit my .338 rifle as I reloaded the magazine. I sat and stared blankly at the screen in front of me, hoping a camera would pick up some sort of movement that could clue me into wherever it ran off to. Knowing my luck, I shouldn’t have expected it to.
​
After coming to terms with reality, I stood up and grabbed my .556, slinging it around my body and letting it hang in front of me. I aimed it down, looking through its sight and testing its laser again before checking the chamber. Good to go. Next, I adjusted the night vision set to my head before picking up my .338 and heading for the door. As I stepped outside, I let out another sigh, this one of stress. Hunting these things at night, on their own turf is never as fun, nor as easy as finishing them quickly from a distance but what choice did I have? I just wanted to get it over with.
​
I flipped down my goggles and switched them on, illuminating the dark field in green and white. I began my long walk across. It took me longer than expected. The speed of that monstrosity caused me to underestimate the size of the field. Each step I took was slow and quiet. I didn’t want the crunch of my feet meeting the dirt and remnants of corn stalks to disturb my hearing. If that thing made a noise, I needed to hear it. If only I could have quieted my incessant heavy, nervous breathing too.
​
I was not even halfway to the treeline when I reached the first pool of blood, where I had shot it for the second time, and it decided to retreat. Bits of flesh were scattered about the ground, but I didn’t care to stop and look. Instead, I focussed on the blood I could see that led back into the woods.
​
Any experienced hunter has had to track a deer or two. It can be very frustrating. The trail isn’t always so clear, and you never know how far it has gotten. In my case, I knew this thing was still alive, and it was angry.
​
I continued my walk, splitting my attention between the blood trail on the ground and the treeline in front of me, scanning for movement and listening. If I was lucky enough, it would have gotten bold and tried to take me down in the field. Unfortunately, I’m not so lucky. Silently, I followed the trail until it met the woods. I stopped walking and calmed myself.
​
I didn’t want to go past those damn trees, but there was no avoiding it. I had a job to do. I extended the bipod of my .338 and lowered it to the ground before raising the stock of my other rifle to my shoulder. I took a deep breath and resumed my walk, now even slower and more cautious. At least now my heavy breathing would be drowned out by the sound of snapping twigs beneath my feet.
​
Immediately upon entering the woods, I spotted the next sight of blood. It came from a tree branch, its leaves covered in the dripping crimson liquid. I walked up to observe, only to notice more blood on the branch above that one. And the next. I noticed the pattern and followed each branch up, one by one, each with its leaves covered in blood. Suddenly a mass moved on top of the tree next to the one I was looking up at.
​
I swung my rifle up, pointing above me at the top of the trees. The mass turned and into view came two glowing eyes, like white lights in my night vision. It opened its mouth again to let out another deafening scream but I raised my rifle and took aim. Its scream was cut short by a bang from my barrel and the thud of the rounds meeting flesh. I was only able to squeeze half a dozen rounds off before it leaped away, to the tops of the neighboring trees.
​
I kept shooting as it jumped from one tree to another, though within seconds it was out of my line of sight. I charged through the woods after it and watched it leap impossible distances, shaking trees so hard I thought some might snap. All the while I kept trying and failing, to line up a clean shot. The ones I did manage to squeeze off were either misses or ineffective.
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Even at the full-on sprint that I managed to sustain for a good few minutes, I was barely able to keep up. I almost abandoned the chase entirely before I saw an opportunity. There was a clearing ahead. A trail. The distance across was far too wide for it to jump. It took a sharp right once it realized this and began jumping from tree to tree along the trail. I rushed into the opening before kneeling to line up a shot. I followed it with my sights, tracking the timing of each leap, and letting t it land and leap once more before it settled on a new tree. I shot off two more rounds as it braced to leap again.
​
They were perfectly placed and its body tumbled in the air and crashed violently to the ground. Having lined up my sight, I squeezed the trigger again to hear the absence of a gunshot, replaced by the click of the firing pin in the empty chamber. I screamed curses at myself as I quickly exchanged magazines. By the time I looked up, the body was already gone.
​
I got to my feet and continued down the trail at a jog-like pace with my rifle at the ready. I was beginning to get frustrated more than anything. I’ve put dozens of these things in the ground before, I didn’t understand why was I having such a hard time with this one. As I approached a curve in the trail, I slowed my pace and brought the stock of my rifle back to my shoulder. I approached the curve from the outside of the trail, trying to get a clear view of what was beyond when my head violently snapped to the left.
​
My vision went suddenly dark and it took me a few moments to realize that I wasn't dead, nor was I unconscious. Something hit my night vision goggles and knocked them clear off of my head, breaking the mount they sat on. My eyes were only beginning to adapt to the dark when another object came flying towards my head, narrowly missing as it whistled forcefully past my ear. It was a rock, around the size of a football. I couldn’t help but glance behind me in astonishment at the object that had nearly decapitated me before turning my attention back to what threw it.
​
Sure enough, there it was. Standing behind the trees at the corner of the path. I let my anger take control and began to fire rapidly at its torso. My disregard for accuracy hardly mattered at this range. Regrettably, it meant I was now closer than I would have liked and it began to charge. I landed shot after shot. Blood spurted from its back and painted the tree branches and leaves that it passed as it barreled toward me.
​
Again, my magazine went empty. Instead of bothering to reload a new one, I quickly drew my Glock and continued my rapid fire on the beast. It broke into the clearing and fell to all fours before it leaped forward and ran as it had done in the field. It closed the distance between us in seconds.
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A hand clenched around my throat and I was lifted off of the ground like a feather. It kept running, past the edge of the clearing and carrying me into the woods. I continued to pepper it at point-blank range with my pistol. Between shots, I could hear its hysterical laughter directed at my futile efforts. Its face smiled with a look of sadistic insanity.
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I continued shooting until my magazine went dry and I was stuck with an empty gun. With nothing else I could do, I began to beat its face with the empty pistol. This seemed to piss it off. It violently threw me through the air. I felt my body snap dozens of branches before I met the ground and rolled uncontrollably.
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Recovering quickly, I grasped the rifle still slung around me and replaced the empty magazine with a new one. It was mere feet away from me when I started to fire. I got a few shots off before it grabbed my arm. This time I whipped the barrel of my rifle up, clubbing it hard across the face. It let out a short, irritated scream. I thrust my barrel at the top of its head, knocking it back as it emitted another angry grunt. It reached up with its left arm and tried to grab the barrel before half of its fingers were blown off by my next shot. It recoiled its arm in pain before swinging it back at me.
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Upon contact, my rifle flew out of my hands and the sling came undone from my body as it was thrown far into the woods behind me. I attempted to retreat before he grabbed me with his right hand, and what remained of his left around my neck. Again, I was picked up and it carried me, this time only a short distance to a tree. My back cracked as I was slammed into the bark.
​
It looked up at me and smiled again.
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“We killed our sinners, we brought justice to our land. We brought justice for God”
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I ignored its foul speech, lifting an arm and hooking it across the face with a firm punch. It had no effect.
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“You are all sinners, and you will die for your sins as they did”
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Again, I struggled and pummeled its face with everything I could muster but it still did nothing.
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“Now go and burn in the lake of fire”
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It shouted, before laughing with a dozen sadistic voices all coming from its mouth.
​
It opened its mouth and its jaw was once again stretched to what should be an impossible level. It lowered me until I was level with it. It moved its open mouth toward my head, shaking with rage. Its teeth now inches from my face. Its breath, foul. With my left arm, I drew my knife, slashing it across the chest before plunging it into its neck. I hooked a punch with my right arm that finally caused it to stumble. It wound up its own punch and let it loose. I narrowly escaped, ducking out of the way before its fist met the tree and went right through, splitting it in half before the wood tumbled to the ground.
​
I took this opportunity to draw my .357. He recovered from its punch and faced me, pulling the knife from its neck and letting blood spurt and gush. It stared me down as it slowly approached, ready to deliver its finishing blow.
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Its head was shaking now, harder than ever in anger, its mouth hung open to half its capacity where it showed its rows of rotting human teeth. I raised my revolver and attempted to steady my sights but I was too shaky. I quickly collected myself. Inhale. Exhale. The front sight became level with the rear. Squeeze.
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The recoil caused the gun to rise enough for me to get a look at the damage. I clipped its mouth, in the corner of its jaw. It hung open, with one side detached completely. It wailed in pain as it gargled its blood and crumbled to the ground. I aimed again, cocking the hammer. Squeeze. With the second round, I detached its jaw completely.
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“Let’s see you bite me now, fucker”
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I painfully muttered with anger. It dropped my knife and was now laying flat on its back, breathing heavily. I approached, cocking the revolver again as I did. It reached out with its mangled hand but I kicked it away before placing my barrel to its skull. Squeeze. And then silence.
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After dragging the body back to the field, I spent the next few hours retrieving my lost and damaged equipment, as well as tediously finding every one of my cameras. I then retrieved my vehicle and drove it to the edge of the field. There was just one more thing to do.
​
I opened my trunk and pulled out the metallic box. I don’t understand why they make these things so goddamn heavy. I opened it and placed the corpse inside before securing the extremely heavy-duty lock. Next was the hole. It wasn’t easy digging after I had been roughed up and tossed around by an undead religious maniac with superhuman strength, but at least this was the last thing I had to do.
​
I finished digging the hole, placed the metal casket inside, and covered it up. From there, I collected my equipment, packed it up, and took off. Supposedly there’s a cleanup crew that comes in after we’re done with these missions and destroys any bizarre evidence.
​
I suspect they take the body as well. Where do they take it? What do they do with it? I have no clue but I’ve been strictly reminded to not ask questions on the matter and to just stick to doing my job. Still, I always find myself wondering.
​
What I have even more questions about is why these things exist in the first place. What the hell is going on? Why them? Why now? Has this been going on for longer than I know? Am I being lied to? What happens next, in the future, if this keeps going on? It’s only been getting worse. They’ve only been popping up more and more frequently. When does it end? Does it end?
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I have more questions than I do answers but what I can tell you is that this problem isn’t going away anytime soon. It’s only going to get worse. There are only going to be more of them, not less. The death toll will only continue to rise. People are going to find out sooner or later. It might as well be now. Maybe we will stop them. Maybe this will all come to an end one day, or maybe we are the ones who are all going to meet our end. Either way, I’ll be there to see it.

Ex: tails/shadow i get the game is from nintendo and that its mainly to show its own characters more than anything else but COME ON mario has like other 6 guys from his franchise (2 more if u count dk) fire emblem i dont even want to mention it and pokemon (like for real) we also even have the echo’s again i get thst because smash its from nintendo it obviously gets a lot more characters from there but i feel that the character who was mario’s rival through 2 console generations deserves more, i mean sonic doesnt even have any remix, the only one he has its because its from brawl

(F 37) am the coordinator of two departments in a family company. Although I'm not part of the family, I have been a friend and part of the business for over 10 years. I have my own vision and ethics when it comes to work and leadership, which is very humane.
On the other hand, my boss (M, 58) is a low-empathy person who is pragmatic and can be a pain in the ass in some aspects. I'm responsible for the recruitment, training, performance evaluation, and feedback of the members of the team I lead. As such, I feel responsible for their perception of their job environment. Therefore, I work hard to be a filter or a shield between my boss's lack of empathy and other negative aspects of the business, such as making them do work beyond their capabilities, making awkward comments, and putting excessive pressure on them.
I'm proud of my success in this field, but there is an issue that has recently arisen. One of the members of the team whom I recruited in May 2022 is a very toxic and immature person who has been generating a high dose of drama among the members of the team since last year. For example, he talks behind the back of everyone, takes long breaks (+1 hour) and manipulates others to join him so they can't report him, sends toxic audios on WhatsApp, minimizes other people's health problems when they need extra help, avoids work, and so on.
I have talked to him twice from the perspective of how other members felt about his behavior. In January 2023, the team, except him and his supervisor, was renewed due to voluntary exits. So, I approached both of them separately and asked them to start fresh with a positive attitude and to help the new members feel good and comfortable. Everything seemed okay until March 3rd when the supervisor asked for my help because she was fed up with him and was frustrated. She shared some audios and screenshots where he was bullying her over a WhatsApp group with the other new members. I was boiling with anger because he was hurting my team.
I let the weekend pass so I could think about the best approach to handle this situation. On the following Monday, I talked to him and every member of the team and asked him to apologize to everyone in that group and to his supervisor. I gave him feedback from an empathetic perspective, and he seemed to feel bad about the incident.
The next Friday, three members of the team (who started on Jan 26th) asked me to have a talk. They reported a long list of situations they were mad and concerned about the guy I had just dealt with. One of them was on the verge of tears from the frustration. On the next Monday, I talked to my boss about the need to fire him since the work environment was being severely affected. I gave him a shorter list of the complaints, choosing only the most severe ones.
My boss agreed to support my decision, and we proceeded to fire him. Since my boss knew he would have to negotiate the layoff terms with the guy (and my boss didn't want to give him anything, even the legally obligated payment), he asked me to arrange a meeting with the supervisor and the three members of the team who made the complaint. I refused because I was sure that it was not a good idea since the mood of my team was likely to change with this. I was afraid because I knew he would likely cross some lines, and I was very nervous. He did manipulate them into saying everything, even things I hadn't heard before. It was awful; he forced them to almost sign their names on the complaint, which I had promise them it wouldn't be necessary. The were absolutely uncomfortable with the situation.
That same day, my boss used everything they said in the meeting to negotiate with the laid off guy. It was awful as well, he was absolutely intolerant and aggressive, maniputative and sarcastic.
I feel shame, Im crying while I write this
Later today, I learned ( someone shared some screenshots with me) they were commenting about the behavior of my boss and how they feel use and they are saying things like "now we know how will be when we will be fired".
I'm devastated, I feel that my work has gone to the drain. I feel I shouldn't talked to him about the members involved in the complaint. I also feel bad for the guy, because, even when I don't regret letting him go, He was harrased to accept less pay of what legally he deserves.
I don't know how to manage this with the team to recover their trust.

First, Previous

Jethriss

Jethriss giggled and tried to line the pitcher up with her mug up for a refill, but was having a hard time. She'd put down more than her fair share of the local ale, which Meatball had dubbed "Good" for some reason, even though it was only "okay", and she was struggling a little bit. Actually, she was drunk off her ass. "The boys", as she thought of them, had spent days hiding in the woods, then spent all of yesterday assaulting and then securing and scouring the last stronghold of the Grekthitch Cartel. Then they spent most of today asleep, and now they were all at the bar partying as hard as they possibly could to blow off the steam. Rosco, sitting to her right in the booth against the back wall, noticed her struggle and took the pitcher away and filled her mug all the way up to the top.
"You ass!" she giggled.
He grinned "I expect you to work too!"
"Every time that ship flies in atmosphere I end up with work! It's a spaceship, not an aircraft."
"Oh, boo hoo!"
Jethriss worked her beak into the mug and slurped and spilled enough beer out to safely pick it up, and listened to Meatball loudly telling about the time they'd raided some cartel growing operation and how Wiggles had ended up literally biting a skink's head off because he couldn't reload fast enough, and not realizing he'd done it unti the head fell out of his mouth and landed on his feet. When the laughter subsided Wiggles added that he'd had to ride back to their compound in the cargo bed of a truck, in the rain, because he'd ended up so dirty, then recounted a fight in this very bar where Meatball had gently slapped an awrok unconscious, and then made up a hilarious and ludicrous story about how afterward Meatball had received vigorous sexual gratification from the same awrok. Meatball had just grinned and explained that he'd only done so out of desperation, since Wiggles had never been a satisfying lover in the first place. There were more drunken guffaws, then Gratorf and Attrull recounted the time they'd had to track down and apprehend a peasant admirer who had managed to infiltrate the harem of their previous employer, the Lady Elissa of House Ganthul. The mention of her name caused much jeering, the bitch had nearly gotten the boys killed, but the story was hilarious. Attrull had to go undercover as a new concubine to find the guy, and had nearly been roped into fucking his boss (who of course, was too self-centered to recognize a member of her own security detail), and had ended up causing a near stamped right in her pleasure chamber when he tased the imposter before he could violate the Lady.
They drank and smoked, told stories and laughed. Skeethrow told about how he'd joined Rosco's group. Years ago, not long after Jethriss had joined Rosco, he'd been in a pirate crew and they'd booked passage on a bulk freighter, intending to hijack it. Well, things kicked off and they were making a move to secure engineering, and they got into a firefight with what they thought was security. Turns out, it was another group of pirates that Rosco had fallen in with who were also planning to hijack the ship! By the time both sides realized what was going on, it was just Skeethrow and two other members of his team left, and while everyone was reloading he heard this human yell out "Hey! You fellas want a job? We just had a few positions open up!"
This was followed by cheers and a toast to Rosco, who laughed, then Rex told a story about the time they'd been janissaries for the Gunchow Combine, and one of the nobles who had singled their regiment out for a suicide mission had mysteriously found himself hospitalized with severe food poising and missed a key planning meeting because someone (he said, pointing his mug at Rosco) had managed to somehow contaminate his food with fecal matter.
The table roared with laughter. Normally when the Gallowglasses got this rambunctious the bar tended to empty out a little, not that the owner minded given that they drank more than enough to compensate, but it stayed busy tonight. Jethriss didn't really pay much heed to the group of skinks that had walked in and stayed by the bar up front, other than the fact that Rosco seemed to be paying more than passing attention to them.
She opened her beak to tell the story about the time Rex had to up act like a Orrick chieftan's pet in order to steal his treasure horde, but it turned into a surprised squawk when Rosco put his hand on top of her head and harshly jammed her under the table.
The sound of gunfire and bullet impacts filled the air. Some of the impacts sounded... wet.
The table flipped as the Gallowglasses jumped up and... she didn't know what they were doing. She wasn't much use in interpersonal violence, she was no coward, she was just a pilot. She stayed on the floor, curled up in a ball, as the seconds dragged by and the shooting subsided. She remembered she had a concealed pistol and drew it, before looking around the edge of the table.
Meatball and Thriktikt had picked up rifles from somewhere and were shooting out of a nearby window into the street, Charge was in the doorway firing a pistol while his left arm dangled, damaged.
Wiggles was crawling toward the door, dragging a leg that bent the wrong way behind him, and added his own pistol fire once he got there.
Keelath was sitting against a wall, applying a tourniquet to his leg. He was covered in blood.
Trilth and Trakkow were holding a third skink down and doing... something first aid related while he thrashed and screamed.
Rex was yelling into his radio. Jethriss couldn't understand his words.
Gratorf was lying on his back, bulging eyes staring at the ceiling. She ran over to him and rolled him over to bandage the wound that had produced a small puddle of blood under his head, and his scrambled brains fell out as his skull fell apart. She turned her head and vomited.
She saw a skink bandaging a nasty scalp wound on Frank Tippery, and Robert Johnson walking between fallen skinks, shooting some of them in the head.
Rosco was on his knees, his right forearm broken open halfway down from the elbow, chewed meat and jagged bone poking out and leaking blood, right hand flopping as he tried to use it to put a meatpatch on Skeethrow's chest. He was yelling, telling Skeethrow not to go anywhere. Skeethrow's face and head were covered in the blood that poured and sprayed from his mouth with every cough, ragged chunks of pink mixed in with the red. She pulled a tourniquet out of her cargo pocket and walked over in a daze. Skeethrow spasmed again and went still, she hadn't noticed his strained gurgling breath against the background din until it stopped. Rosco howled and shoved a broken stool under Skeethrow's feet, and tried to start chest compressions but his broken arm confounded him. He shoved Jethriss away when she tried to slip the tourniquet over his arm, until eventually Rex got done on the radio and between the two of them got the thing on and the old rooster's bleeding stopped.
The gunfire in the bar had stopped, but elsewhere in the city, fighting was still raging.

ON THE LAST EPISODE OF PARTY ROLL....

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Remember a while back when our little new group took on an adventure? From a King, who at first wanted them to be bodyguards? Then detectives? and now Spies? Yes, these strange workings from our King Talantis reverberate within the group. Our Party is now unsure if going along with the King is a good plan. You know, with dead people rising and killing, along with a clearer background history of the island, maybe the descendants aren't that bad after all. But the king pays in gold :D, so our group heads towards the edge of the city, north right to it actually...where a forest descendant stronghold supposedly exists. They are instructed not to engage but use more cunning techniques to gather information. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy....
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Party roll to beat = 15 Cory 9 Dusty 15 Matt 13 Steven 16 Vanessa
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"I love to party so much that I even tweet out that 'i love to party' to weird youtube cam whore cosplayers that Matt hates" - Dusty
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Back in Talantis...
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Our party heads north with commoners and on lookers in silent awe. They have heard about the escapades of the events and not many have seen adventurers like them before. Fritz takes the lead as they reach the outskirts, past the walls and into the hick-town markets when they see a half trotting Danelle Kay running after the party, begging them to take her with them. Danielle Kay fears that "they" will come for her. Not much more is said and just like that, along she comes, sitting on Jedwyn's steed. As they were told to head to the Illuminated Glade first, its a half a day travel and the group falls silent with a woman around. It begins to get dark and the group is forced to camp. Danielle Kay sits on a rock near the fire, the handsome middle aged woman is offered some rations while muttering towards the fire.

"I knew when I saw Lindricks face, I knew what was happening" - Danielle Kay

Danielle Kay claims that vengeance is on the air and there is nothing to stop it. She's a little spaced out.
Carl 7, Roll for Persuasion to get Danielle Kay to tell us more 14
Jedwyn Bogswallow, Roll for Persuasion to get into Danielle Kay mind so she can tell us more NAT 20 !!! The soothing music penetrating her head shakes her back into reality.
​
Seems like the groups changing feelings about the king might be right. Danelle Kay explains that Lindrick will come again. That's because he's a failed experiment that the King ordered. Based around Wealth and Power, the king sold this idea to Danielle, Crumb and Creme. The experiments were to trap the souls but somehow this wasn't the case for Lindrick. All of this happening right under the castle! These experiments were not just limited to Lindrick. There were others, but in the end the king needed someone close to him. At the sight of a orb, she shrieks, as it brings back painful memories. The King is responsible for all of this.
What's more troubling is that whatever has possessed Lindrick knows where they are. It always will.
Well that's a perfect time for them to head to bed don't chea think?! And so we sleep....
Morning arrives and ....and......AND?!!?!
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WHAT WILL THEY FIND AT THE ILLUMINATE GLADE?!
CAN DANIELLE KAY BE TRUSTED!?!
WILL LINDRICK MAKE ANOTHER APPEARANCE?!?!
STICK AROUND AND FIND OUT ON THE NEEEEEEEXXXXXTTTTT PAAAAAAARTY ROLLLLL!!!!!!
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Trivia
-The guys are Lv 6 now and they figure out some stuff before the show -The Intro is sponsored by MK Ultra
-It's been 2 weeks since they all last played irl
-RORY IS BACK!! Just like Jesus
-Vanessa is MIA, so that means Fumbles canonically has diarrhea
-Steven is either sick or has really bad allergies during this recording.
-Jedywn now has entropic ward -Carl 7 now has the aura of protection -Barilla has 71 Hp and takes the Bear Totem path -Fritz upgrades to Grizzly Bear, +1 to bite and claw
-Fritz got a mastiff as his steed named Ambrosis, totally missed that in the shopping spree
-Steven's dad has a Mastiff named 'Thor'
-Jedwyn sold an orb that potentially has a soul in it.
-A substitute teacher once told Steven and Mark that if you ask 200 women to sleep with you, one will say "yes". WIZDUM
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Quotes
"Rory can you be Vanessa?....No, he's too busy taking selfies" - Dusty
"...I'm sorry, Columbus'd all the locals" - Steven, describing how King Talantis took the throne
"We can cum for you too you know" - Barilla
"I know this isn't what ambrosis looks like, but wouldn't it be awesome, if your dog, or some creature, animal companion, that had a giant chest cavity that kinda caved in? So you can just get in the chest cavity?" - Dusty, describing what could be a kangaroo
"Is he willing to sacrifice?" - Matt, when Mark says the King is Cold as Ice.
"Speaking of docking and undocking..." - Cory
"Yeah listeners, Mark has a journal of all our fans ages" - Dusty, joshin on Mark
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partyrollpodcast.com
@ party_roll on twitter
https://www.patreon.com/partyrollpodcast

This situation happened over a year ago and has since been “resolved”. I’m just wondering if anyone has experienced something similar? This is also sort of a vent as I’m just starting to process this incident.
I had a part-time job as a visitation supervisor for a private agency when I was in the process of getting my MSW. The agency itself was extremely mismanaged and my supervisor frequently violated my professional boundaries, however I needed the extra cash to support myself. I was scheduled for a ten hour visit on New Year’s Day 2022 even though I specifically requested not to work that week because there was a lot of snow in the area and I wouldn’t have any reliable transportation. My supervisor insisted that I do the visit without offering me holiday pay, contacting me the night before the visit. At this point, I had some issues with my sleep because of my depression and anxiety, so I missed an entire night’s sleep before the visit. The morning of, I took an Uber and a two hour ferry to meet with the non-custodial parent and her husband. On the drive to their apartment, the couple asked me if they could buy me a coffee (several times) and I declined because I don’t drink coffee due to anxiety. Also, supervisors technically weren’t allowed to accept those sorts of gifts from clients.
The custodial parent dropped off their daughter and the visit officially started. During the visit, I mostly sat on the couch and recorded my observations. At some point, I began to doze off for a minute on their couch because I was extremely exhausted and couldn’t keep my eyes open. I understand that this was totally unprofessional and I would take measures to ensure that wouldn’t happen again, but I’ve already forgiven myself for my transgressions as a stressed out grad student.
The rest of the visit went well and I finished recording all of my notes. The couple dropped me back off at the ferry station and I went home. To my surprise, I checked my email through my work phone and found a complaint from the client, which wax sent to my supervisor (everyone in the agency had access to the admin email). She said that I “fell asleep” on the job and preferred the other supervisor that typically did visits with her, she also attached a blurry picture of me on her couch. She even mentioned that she offered to buy me coffee to keep me awake, which I felt really uncomfortable with. I was incredibly disappointed after reading the email because it reflected poorly on me as a social worker and brought down my self-esteem by a lot. Within a few weeks, I was quiet fired by the agency with little notice. I suspect that my firing had something to do with the incident. I don’t want to sound like a disgruntled former employee, but I definitely have a bad taste in my mouth about private supervision agencies.
Was the client right for reporting me and including a picture? I submitted a detailed report on time, the only mistake I made during this visit was falling asleep for about two minutes and immediately waking up afterwards. I’m wondering if this could’ve been handled differently, I would rather she have pulled me aside and asked me to stay awake for the visit.

I changed jobs to a new company in December of 2022. I found my new job through a recruiter on LinkedIn and once I was hired I turned off the looking for work option. I haven't been back on the site since then and realized this week that I never updated my profile to reflect my new job. My field is highly competitive and despite having the looking for work turned off I had messages from a number of recruiters when I logged in. I ignored most of them but one of them listed a similar job to my current one at 10-20k more than I'm currently making. Though I'm not really interested in changing jobs I was curious as to who the firm was. I took a call today and they were recruiting for MY company, the one I just started with, and for MY same position. It sounded like this recruiter has a more personal connection to the firm than the typical recruiter would so I'm hoping they do not go back to them with my name. I panicked on the call and just told them I appreciated their time but wasn't interested due to the commute distance. Now I'm terrified I'm either going to be fired if they think I'm looking for a new job or that I am actually being replaced at a job I was just hired for and haven't been told yet!
TLDR: I had accidentally took an interview call with a recruiter that was looking to fill the role with the company I just started with in December of last year for my same position.

David, Alice, and Frank watched the white, featureless and glowing - oval ship silently approach and then hover a few feet above the desert. As a door appeared in the side and dropped down to create a ramp – Frank said: “The algorithm worked! We just made contact with aliens!” A moment later he muttered to himself: “I wish we had thought about what to do if we did contact aliens.”
The aliens exited the ship with circular disks floating over their heads. After making some indecipherable gestures, they set up an odd looking device that then hung in the air. They then said something that sounded like breaking glass. When they finished the device said: “Trickery can't smell video games.”
David replied: “Uh . . . Hello?” The device then made more sounds like breaking glass and the aliens turned and – looked at each other? Did they even have eyes? Then another one spoke and the device said: “ A baked potato stands on somebody else’s Legs!”
In an attempt to defuse the situation Alice stepped forwards to shake the closer alien’s arm? Tentacle? Not a body part at all? Just as she took hold of it - something made a squishy crunching noise from under her foot. The alien let out a loud “eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” noise and Alice jumped – producing another squishy/crunchy noise from the appendage she was holding. The device then said: “” Alice backpedaled while two other aliens started waving devices that were shaped like the letter ‘N’ in what was presumably a threatening manner. One of them announced: “ A sickeningly prodigious profile is often pregnant!” while two others helped their injured comrade back to the ship.
After they were aboard, the door closed the alien ship shot upwards – creating a sonic boom that knocked them to the ground and blew out the windows in the truck and the RV.
The dazed trio lay on the ground for more than a few moments and Frank was the first to speak: “What . . . just . . . happened?”
*******
She was reading her grandchildren a bedtime story when the phone rang. She apologized to the kids and promised them two stories tomorrow, then went to her office to answer it.
She answered the phone: “General Abrams.” “Ma’am – Major Johnson, duty officer. We have an incursion. Mojave Desert, California, 15 miles north of . . . a town named Ludlow. I have placed the QRF on alert.”
“Get the QRF in the air – we can always recall them if it turns out they aren’t needed. Contact the nearby airbases and find out if any of them can get aircraft overhead to feed us video of what’s on the ground. Recall the staff – I’m on my way in.”
………
Alice sat up and then decided that she was going to wait a few more minutes before trying to stand up. Looking around she couldn’t see David or Frank in the dark and called out: “Are you guys OK?” Frank replied: “I don’t think I’m badly hurt, but when I tried to stand up, I just fell down again.” David answered with: “My head’s still spinning a bit but not as bad as a minute ago.” Then he asked: “What happened to the lights?”
In a blinding flash of hindsight Alice realized that the reason it was dark was because the lights were out. “Must still be a little loopy after whatever that was hit us.” she thought.
By unspoken consensus they decided to just lie there until they felt they felt good enough to stand up.
………..
General Abrams walked up to the doors to the Operations Building. As she approached the steps, a calm and quiet voice announced: “Halt.” She stopped – being careful to ensure that her hands remained visible. “Who is there?”
“General Abrams”
“Advance and be recognized.”
She took three more steps and:
“Halt” then: “Fencepost” General Abrams congratulated herself for looking up the password before she got out of her car and replied: “Handbook”
“I recognize you General – you may pass.”
The General thought: “The duty officer posted extra security – that’s not a good sign.” She then entered the building without ever getting a glimpse of the sentry. Something she approved of.
……….
Alice finally felt good enough to stand up and pulled out her phone for more light, looked down at it and . . . nothing. She then looked around and discovered that she could see – not well. but see well enough. David said: “it’s dark and I can still see – did the aliens do something to us?” Alice knew the biology here – but this was the first time she had ever actually used it. She said: “It’s natural, in the dark our eyes produce ‘Rhodopsin’ a chemical commonly referred to as ‘visual purple’ that triggers phototransduction in the rod cells and . . .” Frank interrupted her: “OK - in the dark our eyes make a chemical that lets us see better in the dark.” Alice argued: “Well it’s not that simple.” Rolling his eyes Frank sand: “It’s close enough. Lets start figuring out what works and what doesn’t.” David gave a sigh of relief at avoiding a 15 minute lecture on the biological and chemical processes behind our ability to see in the dark.
*********
General Abrams walked into the operations center and looked at her Chief of Staff: “What’s the bad news?” At the same time wondering how he always not only managed to get here before she did – but had enough time to get a good picture of the situation also.
Captain Halsey (US Navy) called forward Captain Ryker from US Space Force. “Ma’am – when we looked at the records over the past several weeks, we discovered that every Friday and Saturday night a beacon sending data using some kind of advanced algorithm had been active at that location. And it was active tonight.”
“Did our deep space surveillance detect the ship?” “We didn’t detect it coming in but when it left it made no attempt to hide. Once this crisis ends, we’ll spend some time looking into how it evaded the deep space surveillance network.”
“Good job – carry on,”
She then turned and looked at the Operations Officer – who had just arrived and was getting briefed. She got his attention and when he turned his attention to her, she said one word: “Ready?”
“I have the most important stuff. QRF went wheels up 5 minutes ago. Flight time to target location is 40 minutes. Augmentation force has just called in and stated that they can be wheels-up on three minutes notice. Aliens were not detected when inbound but were detected outbound.”
The general: “OK the situation is worse than we expected. Launch the augmentation force with orders to take control of the target location and to secure it. QRF is to parachute in and capture anybody they find, then set up security until the augmentation force arrives. Once the augmentation force arrives, they are to return with any people they located and anything unusual that they find. Talk to Captain Ryker – he'll give you the bad news.”
She then turned and called out: “Air Ops – when are we going to have eyes on the target?” A Captain in an Air Force uniform put his hand over the receiver of the phone he was using and replied: “I’ve got two Marine F-35s and a C-130 tanker practicing air refueling ops 150 miles to the south. The F-35s are enroute and I’m working on grabbing the tanker in case the V-22s need fuel.” Estimated time over the target for the F-35s is just over 15 minutes.”
Satisfied that that her staff had things well in hand and that it would be a few more minutes before she needed to do anything, she decided to get a cup of coffee and stay out of their hair until then. She walked into the break room. She poured a cup, took a sip and . . . An angry voice bellowed from the break room: “Who let Navy make the coffee?”
********
“Well, the good news is that the problem appears to be that every battery we have is drained completely. We do have a small solar panel that we can use to charge the battery on the truck enough to get it started. Then we can jump start the RV and get out of here.” “Oh – and now for the really good news.” He pulled out a chemlight, said “Let there be light!” and snapped the vial inside it. A moment later he said: “I thought it would be brighter.”
Alice listened to Frank’s report as she put down the meager amount of sticks and brush she had managed to locate. She then said: “Well it appears that gathering firewood in a desert in the dark is just about as difficult as we expected.”
David came and placed his pile of sticks and dried brush and sat down and started spinning a stick between the palms of his hands. Frank came over and asked: “What are you doing?”
“Spinning a stick. The friction will heat up the tip and we can use that to get a fire started.”
“Why don’t you use the matches in the RV?”
“We have matches?”
**********
“We have eyes on the target location. Sending the imagery to the center display.”
The thermal imagery showed three people sitting around a campfire, a pickup truck and an RV. When the pilot switched the display from ‘white hot’ to ‘black hot’ the previously invisible tables and what appeared to be radio components showed up against the warmer sand underneath them.
“Is the QRF seeing this?” asked the general. The Air Ops officer replied: “They’re piggybacking off of our feed.” And in anticipation of her next question: “QRF is 22 minutes out and will deploy via parachute upon arrival.”
The fire had burned down and the only light was coming from the chemlite. The trio had finished a snack of toasted marshmallows and were now drinking some hot chocolate Alice had made. “Good thing propane stoves don’t need electricity.” Alice said to ease the feeling of gloom that was setting in. David says: “All in all – it looks like we’re lucky that nobody but us knows about this.”
*********
The video from the second F-35 came on – showing the Special Forces team land, discard their parachutes, don gas masks, and then - using nothing but hand signals - form up into an inverted V formation and move out towards the target.
******** Frank: “Well, I think that we might as well go get some sleep. We are going to have to make sure we get the glass out of the bedding though.”
In response to Frank’s comment David added: “Yea – looks like the worst is ov . . .” Then: “What’s that?” as objects landed in the sand on either side of them.
David suddenly couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, and his eyes and ears hurt.
**********
Both video feeds showed the same thing. The Special Forces team stunned the three people with flash bangs – then one ran towards each of the three people, yanked them out of their chairs and threw them face down into the sand. They then bound their arms with zip-tie handcuffs and put bags over their heads. The other three provided cover for the first. Once the three were immobilized two commandos kept watch on the trio while other four cleared the RV and the truck.
Then the team sent their first and only radio message: “Bastion – this is Predator Three. Objective secured, three persons detained, continuing mission – out.”

“OK – the good news is that we have determined that you have not been exposed to some alien supergerm that can wipe out all life on this planet. The bad news is that I Hate You. Friday night I was with my boyfriend, and he was about to propose – when I got the recall message.”
The annoyed nurse continued: “The exit doors are unlocking. Take a shower and put on the coveralls. You are no longer my problem!”
David: “What she means is that we are now somebody else’s problem. Somebody who can send a military team to kidnap us.”
Alice: “And has a Level Four Biosafety laboratory to use as a quarantine area.”
The Nurse: “Actually this is a Level Five facility.”
Alice: “What’s the difference between a level Four and a level Five?”
The Nurse: “A Level Five is one that would automatically flood the entire facility with Chlorine Trifluoride if any of you got sick from an alien pathogen.”

Grand Theft Auto V is one of the most profitable entertainment franchises in the history of games. It came along as a return to form after what many fans would argue was a misstep with the more gritty and realistic GTA 4. Originally released back in 2013 for the Xbox 360 and PlayStation 3—yes, it spans three console generations—developer Rockstar has supported the game's online mode with continual updates adding new content, new areas, and even all-new mechanics.
GTA V was such a runaway success—and GTA The Trilogy: Definitive Edition was such a dumpster fire—that Rockstar gave up working on a Red Dead Redemption 2 DLC, and has now reportedly abandoned plans to remaster more of its beloved older titles to instead focus on both further GTA Online content as well as the development of GTA 6.
gtaonline fukaru
Naturally, expectations for GTA 6 are incredibly high, and given the advanced age of GTA V, fans are chomping at the bit for any bit of news. That's why there's so much buzz around a report at Bloomberg that focuses on Rockstar's new corporate culture. Company co-founder Dan Houser left Rockstar in 2020, and ever since then the development house has been trying to reshape a corporate culture that the report refers to as being "like a frat house".
Given the nature and tone of the humor in the Grand Theft Auto series, it's really not surprising to hear that the atmosphere inside Rockstar was juvenile and chauvinistic. The report remarks that the workplace culture at Rockstar was "full of drinking, brawling, and excursions to strip clubs." That may sound like a good time to some, but it's admittedly not very professional.
gta1 katie Katie from the OG Grand Theft Auto (1997) on PC (left) and Game Boy Color (right).
As part of the report, author Jason Schreier casually reveals that GTA 6 will have at least two playable protagonists, and that one of them will be a Latina woman. This technically isn't the first playable woman nor even the first playable Hispanic woman in the GTA series; the very first GTA game featured a Latina named "Katie" as one of its eight playable characters.
Still, very few of the series' modern fans even remember the old DOS-based Grand Theft Auto, so we can forgive everyone for forgetting about poor Katie. Regardless, the new girl will apparently be part of a Bonnie-and-Clyde-like crime duo, calling to mind the partnership between Claude and Catalina in the beginning of Grand Theft Auto III. Hopefully the partnership between the new player characters in GTA 6 doesn't end the same way that one did.
Comments1Comments Support Independent Tech Journalism, Become A Patron! Tags: Grand Theft Auto, Rockstar Games, GTA V, GTA, gta 6 exp-player-logo
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KOwen 29 July, 2022
Release the PC version at the same time as the consoles please!
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Does anyone know who her upline was with Younique? Did you guys hear her rambling the other day about how so many people contacted her to rejoin? She spoke about how she was wrongfully terminated and they assured her that all those people were gone. Girl please if you got fired from a MLM you did something.

I (F 37) am the coordinator of two departments in a family company. Although I'm not part of the family, I have been a friend and part of the business for over 10 years. I have my own vision and ethics when it comes to work and leadership, which is very humane.
On the other hand, my boss (M, 58) is a low-empathy person who is pragmatic and can be a pain in the ass in some aspects. I'm responsible for the recruitment, training, performance evaluation, and feedback of the members of the team I lead. As such, I feel responsible for their perception of their job environment. Therefore, I work hard to be a filter or a shield between my boss's lack of empathy and other negative aspects of the business, such as making them do work beyond their capabilities, making awkward comments, and putting excessive pressure on them.
I'm proud of my success in this field, but there is an issue that has recently arisen. One of the members of the team whom I recruited in May 2022 is a very toxic and immature person who has been generating a high dose of drama among the members of the team since last year. For example, he talks behind the back of everyone, takes long breaks (+1 hour) and manipulates others to join him so they can't report him, sends toxic audios on WhatsApp, minimizes other people's health problems when they need extra help, avoids work, and so on.
I have talked to him twice from the perspective of how other members felt about his behavior. In January 2023, the team, except him and his supervisor, was renewed due to voluntary exits. So, I approached both of them separately and asked them to start fresh with a positive attitude and to help the new members feel good and comfortable. Everything seemed okay until March 3rd when the supervisor asked for my help because she was fed up with him and was frustrated. She shared some audios and screenshots where he was bullying her over a WhatsApp group with the other new members. I was boiling with anger because he was hurting my team.
I let the weekend pass so I could think about the best approach to handle this situation. On the following Monday, I talked to him and every member of the team and asked him to apologize to everyone in that group and to his supervisor. I gave him feedback from an empathetic perspective, and he seemed to feel bad about the incident.
The next Friday, three members of the team (who started on Jan 26th) asked me to have a talk. They reported a long list of situations they were mad and concerned about the guy I had just dealt with. One of them was on the verge of tears from the frustration. On the next Monday, I talked to my boss about the need to fire him since the work environment was being severely affected. I gave him a shorter list of the complaints, choosing only the most severe ones.
My boss agreed to support my decision, and we proceeded to fire him. Since my boss knew he would have to negotiate the layoff terms with the guy (and my boss didn't want to give him anything, even the legally obligated payment), he asked me to arrange a meeting with the supervisor and the three members of the team who made the complaint. I refused because I was sure that it was not a good idea since the mood of my team was likely to change with this. I was afraid because I knew he would likely cross some lines, and I was very nervous. He did manipulate them into saying everything, even things I hadn't heard before. It was awful; he forced them to almost sign their names on the complaint, which I had promise them it wouldn't be necessary. The were absolutely uncomfortable with the situation.
That same day, my boss used everything they said in the meeting to negotiate with the laid off guy. It was awful as well, he was absolutely intolerant and aggressive, maniputative and sarcastic.
I feel shame, Im crying while I write this
Later today, I learned ( someone shared some screenshots with me) they were commenting about the behavior of my boss and how they feel use and they are saying things like "now we know how will be when we will be fired".
I'm devastated, I feel that my work has gone to the drain. I feel I shouldn't talked to him about the members involved in the complaint. I also feel bad for the guy, because, even when I don't regret letting him go, He was harrased to accept less pay of what legally he deserves.
I don't know how to manage this with the team to recover their trust.
TL;DR:
The coordinator of two departments in a family company has been working for over 10 years and has a very humane approach to work and leadership. Her boss is a low-empathy person who can be difficult to work with, and she tries to shield her team from negative aspects of the business. Recently, a toxic team member caused drama and bullying in the workplace, so the coordinator tried to resolve the issue with empathy but eventually had to fire the toxic employee. However, the boss wanted to negotiate the layoff terms and forced the team to sign a complaint, which made them uncomfortable. Later, the team members talked about the behavior of the boss and expressed distrust. The coordinator feels devastated and doesn't know how to manage the situation to regain their trust.

“Only you can be my servant.”Renee, a girl cursed with immortality, was fired from her job for being too creepy and is now seeking employment. One day, she is recruited to be a servant for the prince. However, the prince was imprisoned due to his “curse of poison” that kills everything he lays his hands on. These two lonely individuals who hold contrary Curses are brought together by fate in this ... Read The Cursed Child's Servant - Chapter 11.2 - MangaPuma. Read more at https://mangapuma.com/the-cursed-childs-servant/chapter-11-2

As the title says, is there any mod or mod in the works that would allow us to downgrade an ability? I've reached the end of the base game but just collected the level 2 Arrow Smoke Bomb without realizing what it was and that it ruins the ability (90% of the time enemies are next to a fire). I'm far into the game that it's just not worth starting over, and I collected so much collectibles already that this 100% save from Nexus isn't worth it either because the person didn't bothered to collect any items. Recollecting the collectibles will be just as nightmarish as starting the game over.
Will not accept using Cheat Engine, too many bad history with that one.
Otherwise, any solution here?

 Me(17f) my boyfriend(19m John), his brother (16m joe) his friend(20m doug), me and boyfriend just bought a house and we got to hang sheet rock and almost finish our bedroom, but to celebrate we wanted to go the creek on our day off to relax and enjoy ourselves. The creek we went too was secluded, outside of the town in a what we call distracts. there’s never very much traffic and not many houses in the surrounding area. This creek is amongst the more popular hang out spot when it gets warmer, but it’s government property and open to public, it’s really hard to get into and almost mile walk to make it going through ruts and big pond like mud puddles. 

so you were forced to walk it, if you didn’t have a truck that was especially good at mudding and easy to maneuver. The last person we heard attempting to drive down the path flipped their truck and no one ever attempts to drive down it.

it was later in the evening and getting dark, so we were going to try to build a fire, to warm up after we swam. We were there maybe 30 minutes when we start hearing trucks and seeing lights in the woods like someone was driving down the path to the creek. when we arrived no one was there and the last car was leaving. I am in general a very anxious and nervous person so already from the beggining exetremely paranoid and scared of who this person could be showing up to the creek nearly soon after we got there like he maybe followed us. we soon see this lanky man stumble down the path with a bottle of whiskey. At first we thought he might have been a teenager around our age just trying to find someone to hang out with and stumbled across our path and was just a coincidence. We soon learned he was a 26 and we told him our respected ages. Which was the first flag he offered us alcohol even though underage, although proven not to be poison or anything, it was just strange. He was very persistent with helping us start our fire. He mentioned how he could go grab his machete out of his truck to chop the branches or to go to his camp where he had 5 gallons of hand sanitizer. But soon after he mentions going to get the hand sanitizer he mentions that he hasn’t been to the creek in a while lately(year+) but who has hand sanitizer in large quantities stored at a camp that is not permanent or permitted(since it’s government property) As we continue to talk and kind of learn a little bit about each other this man was meticulously not telling us who he was but with anything we said he would relate too, like living on the same road as my boyfriend, when he lived with his dad, but my boyfriend didn’t know who he was even though we live in a small town with a small population, only after my boyfriend had mentioned it. Also said he was from the same town I grew up in which was almost 2 hours away and a very populated town. So seemingly like a serial pier or trying to relate to us to gain our trust. Eventually he asked why we haven’t asked him his name, yet and we proceeded to not tell us anything about his name or who he is, but claimed that we have done this all before like we have been in the same place with him before doing the same thing, we have not been to this creek in almost a year and I only went one time before and do not remember him. He acted like he was stuck in a time loop. He claimed that he knew us all already, I just moved to this town and don’t know very many people, and stay very much so to myself, so I remember a lot of the people I meet. what made it worse was the smiles he was giving all of us when no one else was looking it was bone chilling. And he knew we were kind of freaked out of him and he would make sly comments that we didn’t really pick up on. After that we decided it was time to leave as joe had school in the morning. As we were walking up the bank of the river the man whispered into Doug’s ear that “if we kept asking questions we were going to find out something we didn’t want to.” And mentions how we are all scared of him and that he can tell. And tries to more sarcastically defend himself, seemingly making it worse, because we could sense the danger. This man persisted that we get in the truck and ride with him, and When we denied he wanted us to sit on the tailgate which we denied again, he wanted to have us walk in front of the truck so we could use the headlights to see, we eventually convinced him that we would walk behind and he said he would go walking speed and let us keep up. He then starts making my boyfriend help him jump this newer truck (2015+) that was beat up. We finally get the truck going, and joe at this point is shaking with me, and starts getting noticeable uncomfortable when the man starts making persistent remarks about how he should get in the truck with him and ride so he didn’t have to walk. We didn’t allow him to get in the truck and the man stopped asking. After that we start walking at a slow lurch not seeming to look away from him through his back glass. When a bigger mud puddle comes up he stopped and told us to back away from the truck and turn around, like he didn’t want us to get covered in mud, but said it in a remarkably weird name that set off about 100 buzzers in my brain, I personally didn’t look away from the truck, not even a second, and when the truck was far enough away where it was slinging mud we went back to following. At that point he is driving faster so we are having to use flashlights to keep going to catch back up. He stopped and let us kept up and then speed off again to where he would wait til we are about vision distance away and skirted out to the road, we still had about a 5 minute walk, extremely anxious because we didn’t know if there where people with him waiting for us to make it to the car. We made it to the car and not seeing a trace of the did or his truck and quickly get into the car to leave. As we are pulling out to leave we see the dude seemingly been parked at the bridge waiting for us to leave. He then followed us down the road and we eventually lost him, and all made it home safely. We still don’t know his intentions were for that night. And nobody else knows who he is, and I can’t seem to find him online. And the only other information I know of him is that he is known to creep around town and tries to hang out with other teenagers in town. Whether not he was harmless but drunk and coming of wrong, serial killer, or an escape from an mental institution I hope me or anyone else ever had to cross pathes with him again. We Will no longer be going to the creek after dark or back to that creek in general. 

 Me(17f) my boyfriend(19m John), his brother (16m joe) his friend(20m doug), me and boyfriend just bought a house and we got to hang sheet rock and almost finish our bedroom, but to celebrate we wanted to go the creek on our day off to relax and enjoy ourselves. The creek we went too was secluded, outside of the town in a what we call distracts. there’s never very much traffic and not many houses in the surrounding area. This creek is amongst the more popular hang out spot when it gets warmer, but it’s government property and open to public, it’s really hard to get into and almost mile walk to make it going through ruts and big pond like mud puddles. 

so you were forced to walk it, if you didn’t have a truck that was especially good at mudding and easy to maneuver. The last person we heard attempting to drive down the path flipped their truck and no one ever attempts to drive down it.

it was later in the evening and getting dark, so we were going to try to build a fire, to warm up after we swam. We were there maybe 30 minutes when we start hearing trucks and seeing lights in the woods like someone was driving down the path to the creek. when we arrived no one was there and the last car was leaving. I am in general a very anxious and nervous person so already from the beggining exetremely paranoid and scared of who this person could be showing up to the creek nearly soon after we got there like he maybe followed us. we soon see this lanky man stumble down the path with a bottle of whiskey. At first we thought he might have been a teenager around our age just trying to find someone to hang out with and stumbled across our path and was just a coincidence. We soon learned he was a 26 and we told him our respected ages. Which was the first flag he offered us alcohol even though underage, although proven not to be poison or anything, it was just strange. He was very persistent with helping us start our fire. He mentioned how he could go grab his machete out of his truck to chop the branches or to go to his camp where he had 5 gallons of hand sanitizer. But soon after he mentions going to get the hand sanitizer he mentions that he hasn’t been to the creek in a while lately(year+) but who has hand sanitizer in large quantities stored at a camp that is not permanent or permitted(since it’s government property) As we continue to talk and kind of learn a little bit about each other this man was meticulously not telling us who he was but with anything we said he would relate too, like living on the same road as my boyfriend, when he lived with his dad, but my boyfriend didn’t know who he was even though we live in a small town with a small population, only after my boyfriend had mentioned it. Also said he was from the same town I grew up in which was almost 2 hours away and a very populated town. So seemingly like a serial pier or trying to relate to us to gain our trust. Eventually he asked why we haven’t asked him his name, yet and we proceeded to not tell us anything about his name or who he is, but claimed that we have done this all before like we have been in the same place with him before doing the same thing, we have not been to this creek in almost a year and I only went one time before and do not remember him. He acted like he was stuck in a time loop. He claimed that he knew us all already, I just moved to this town and don’t know very many people, and stay very much so to myself, so I remember a lot of the people I meet. what made it worse was the smiles he was giving all of us when no one else was looking it was bone chilling. And he knew we were kind of freaked out of him and he would make sly comments that we didn’t really pick up on. After that we decided it was time to leave as joe had school in the morning. As we were walking up the bank of the river the man whispered into Doug’s ear that “if we kept asking questions we were going to find out something we didn’t want to.” And mentions how we are all scared of him and that he can tell. And tries to more sarcastically defend himself, seemingly making it worse, because we could sense the danger. This man persisted that we get in the truck and ride with him, and When we denied he wanted us to sit on the tailgate which we denied again, he wanted to have us walk in front of the truck so we could use the headlights to see, we eventually convinced him that we would walk behind and he said he would go walking speed and let us keep up. He then starts making my boyfriend help him jump this newer truck (2015+) that was beat up. We finally get the truck going, and joe at this point is shaking with me, and starts getting noticeable uncomfortable when the man starts making persistent remarks about how he should get in the truck with him and ride so he didn’t have to walk. We didn’t allow him to get in the truck and the man stopped asking. After that we start walking at a slow lurch not seeming to look away from him through his back glass. When a bigger mud puddle comes up he stopped and told us to back away from the truck and turn around, like he didn’t want us to get covered in mud, but said it in a remarkably weird name that set off about 100 buzzers in my brain, I personally didn’t look away from the truck, not even a second, and when the truck was far enough away where it was slinging mud we went back to following. At that point he is driving faster so we are having to use flashlights to keep going to catch back up. He stopped and let us kept up and then speed off again to where he would wait til we are about vision distance away and skirted out to the road, we still had about a 5 minute walk, extremely anxious because we didn’t know if there where people with him waiting for us to make it to the car. We made it to the car and not seeing a trace of the did or his truck and quickly get into the car to leave. As we are pulling out to leave we see the dude seemingly been parked at the bridge waiting for us to leave. He then followed us down the road and we eventually lost him, and all made it home safely. We still don’t know his intentions were for that night. And nobody else knows who he is, and I can’t seem to find him online. And the only other information I know of him is that he is known to creep around town and tries to hang out with other teenagers in town. Whether not he was harmless but drunk and coming of wrong, serial killer, or an escape from an mental institution I hope me or anyone else ever had to cross pathes with him again. We Will no longer be going to the creek after dark or back to that creek in general. 

Got the CM098C model delivered early December along with this battery/charger from Evike. I charged the battery and shot it a few times in my home (less than 20 times). Charged it again and went to play the next morning. Battery was dead, I assumed it was the cold weather. Charged it again and tried to test fire it, you could tell the battery was low based on how it sounded.
Friend tested the battery and the #1 cell was bad. Contacted Evike and they sent a replacement. Got the replacement early February, test fired and it seemed good again. Since we are in the middle of a big winter in the Tahoe area I haven't made it to Nevada to play much/at all so I haven't used the gun. Yesterday I got a bunch of new mags and wanted to try them out, the replacement battery is doing exactly what the first battery was doing at first. I contacted Evike and the dude said I was out of warranty but they would do an exemption and send me a replacement but they want me to test the battery first. I just ordered a volt meter to test it out.
Is this a known issue with that particular brand of batteries? I made sure to store the batteries after being fully charged, I'm just annoyed that I spent $70 for a battery that is not working properly/at all. Evike suggests the 11.1v but I also see a 7.4v battery can work, should I buy new 7.4v batteries elsewhere?
Could the charger be malfunctioning and killing the batteries?

“God said to Abraham, "Kill me a son"
Abe say, "Man, you must be puttin' me on"
God say, "No, " Abe say, "What?"
God say, "You can do what you want Abe, but
Next time you see me comin', you better run"
Abe said, "Where do you want this killin' done?"
God said, "Out on Highway 61"
The radio, a martyr’s relic from a bygone era, sounded half as faded as I was.
I reeked of vodka and middy weed. I didn’t care. This lonely stretch of highway belonged to no one as far as I was concerned, and you gambled taking the curves in the dark.
It was your fault if you choose to gamble with me. Least, that’s the way I saw it.
Texas felt so far away.
“Well, Cowboy Dan's a major player in the cowboy scene
He goes to the reservation, drinks and gets mean
And he's gonna start a war
He's gonna start a warrrrrr
And he hops in his pickup
Puts his pedal to the floor
And says, "I got mine
But I want more"
Because Cowboy Dan's a major player in the cowboy scene
He goes to the reservation, drinks and gets mean
He goes to the desert, fires his rifle in the sky
And says, "God, if I have to die, you will have to die"
I hacked up what felt like part of a lung. My hand was stained, the oxidized rust of old blood mixed with a fresh coat of red, a fresco that highlighted a life poorly lived.
Wait.
What happened to Bob Dylan?
Or was it Johnny Cash?
Wasn’t I just listening…
Gaps in time. I prayed I hadn’t taken the ketamine.
That was for later.
If you want proof time is just a strongly worded opinion, just slip into a k-hole.
That was for later.
My eyelids felt heavy.
There were no stars.
Endless pines, only shadowy outlines in the dark, still cover for the night’s starving predators, were all I could make out.
I just guessed at where the road kinked and turned and straightened.
I was playing a game with God, and I wanted to lose.
I wanted us all to lose.
“Dance, Dance to the radio
While the, Devil takes control,
Dance, Dance to the radio,
While the, Devil takes control…”
The warm hug of oblivion, a feeling like endless cookies and Saturday morning cartoons, began slipping its infinite arms around me.
Come and See, and I saw.
It was still the witching hour when I woke with a startled gasp. I could feel the claws of need, withdrawal, dragging up my arms, burrowing into my skin, making the back of my eyeballs vibrate.
Every day the need grew stronger, and every day, I killed off a little bit more of me.
One is too many, and a thousand is never enough.
I was in a ditch.
This wasn’t new or news. I tended to wake up in a lot of ditches. Beats Motel 6. Fewer roaches and you could smoke in every room.
My truck wouldn’t start.
Not even the wheezing gasps of a machine trying to cling to artificial life. Just a click and utter silence.
The battery couldn’t be dead. I checked my watch.
5:55 A.M.
I figured I’d tried to hit the eternal snooze button around 3 A.M. It had only been a few hours. Battery should be fine.
A cursory inspection showed no external damage. No blown tires, no misbegotten wires or missing spark plugs. Hell, it seemed like I’d just slowly cruised into this dark little corner of the universe.
It was as though the truck just gave up the ghost and said, "I’m done." The thirsty horse dropping to the ground in an endless desert, done with the death march.
I bear crawled up the small ravine and onto the highway.
A generous term for a lonely road in whatever the Hell backwater burg America had shit out here.
All I could see were outlines in the dark.
Fitting, I thought.
And then an explosion stole my vision.
Let there be light.
And there was.
And it was good.
Especially good.
Because it was a bar.
A ramshackle of a spot, dive joint meets biker meth hangout, from the looks of it, and it was just powering up.
Shit, if you couldn’t drink on Sunday morning, were we really free? Were we really God’s children at all?
I started ambling toward the light, my eyes adjusting to the deep gloom.
“The Man from Capernaum.”
Hell of a name for a spot in the middle of BFE.
Hell of a name.
Hell.
Hell, I needed a drink.
My watch read 6 a.m. but it was 5 o’clock somewhere, and this place had electricity buzzing it had to pay for and didn’t much strike me as the sort of establishment that probably saw the law as anything more than a nuisance.
I sauntered up to the door, my black boots clicking loudly against the rotten wooden porch.
Into the lion’s den we go.
Unsurprisingly, it was empty as a church on Friday night. Why kill the Son if you can’t have the sin, after all?
But it was unlocked and music was softly crooning from somewhere.
“As I went down in the river to pray
Studying about that Good Ol’ Way
And who shall wear the robe and crown
Good Lord, show me the way”
Fantastic. No bartender and proselyting in a shit joint. That’s just what my migraine and itchy skin called for.
I considered hopping the bar and grabbing a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, but this struck me as a place where your head might become acquainted with a shotgun right quick and nobody would kick up much fuss.
I was going out, a lamb among wolves, but on my terms. I’d had enough violence. I wanted to feel the void swallow me whole, not feel a hole swallow my head.
Plopping down on an empty stool, I risked lighting up a smoke. Certainly they wouldn’t get bent out of shape over a cowboy killer or two.
And shit, who was there to kick up dirt anyway? A ghost town without the spirits, save the ones just behind the bar and out of reach.
The tantalizing fruit in the garden.
God, I need a cold one, now.
“Till armageddon no shalam, no shalom
Then the Father Hen will call His chickens home
The wise man will bow down before the throne
And at His feet they'll cast their golden crowns
When The Man comes around”
The hairs on my arm stood up.
That wasn’t the gentle croon of some A.M. gospel channel. That was someone singin’ in the bar.
In the furthest stool at the left end of the bar, a wild looking man sat, intermittently taking greedy gulps of amber beer and singing loudly, his other arm flailing frenetically as though conducting an unseen orchestra.
Ah, good, a ninja crackhead. That’s just what I need.
He looked over at me and I leapt from my chair and damn near outta my boots.
Ancient as the hills, this man looked like he’d just come down the mountain from communing with the darkness itself.
God damn.
A wild, grey, patchy beard splayed out in every direction, as though the hair itself was trying to escape the vessel that grew it.
The crown of his head was bald but the rest was shaggy white hair, matted in some places, errantly sticking up in others, as though it couldn’t choose between electrocution and submission.
He wore what looked like a white robe, but it was stained with all manner of mess. Copper, brown, yellow, black. Blood, shit, piss, and Heaven only knows what. A fetid robe of many colors.
Tattered, rudimentary sandals held in dirty feet with long, yellowed toenails.
The man reeked worse than sulfur. Worse than death. It was like the pungent stank of the human stain clung to him with reckless abandon.
He was chubby and withered and maddened.
But none of that held a penny to his eyes.
Orbs of the purest white, ringed with seared, blackened flesh around the edges.
Nothing but endless, empty white that somehow felt like it saw nothing but what we all couldn’t see. Nothing of this world but everything we hide in it. Our lies, the horrors behind the masks, what we do in the dark, this tattered, horrible amalgam we have the audacity to still call “a soul.”
Fuck this.
I went to run but found I had no will to do so.
My boots had become one with the earth, like the leather was finally gonna join the cattle that had to die for me to feel like a man.
A crash of thunder stole my hearing, a tiny whirlwind began lifting and smashing bottles from behind the bar.
The seals of the bottles came open, spraying spirits everywhere.
The bar was alight with white fire and a light blasted through the bar that would embarrass the Sun.
Then all was silent and still.
“Nice hooves,” the man said in a velvety baritone.
I looked down at my black boots and back up at him.
There is probably a drug cocktail somewhere in existence where, if mixed properly and taken with utter scientific precision, probably unlocks the gates to Heaven in the human consciousness.
I think I might have found the one’s that unlocked Hell’s.
The man wore a wide, warm grin. Authentic and inviting, the jovial visage of every TV grandfather. Creature comfort. He no longer looked like a raving maniac.
Far from it.
The man was now young, maybe late 20’s.
Golden, feathered locks elegantly curved just behind his ears.
A black cardigan, dark jeans, and new Grecian sandals graced a well-kept temple, a body of with seemingly perfect porcelain skin.
Sapphire blue eyes, pools of painful beauty, the kind that feels like a knife twisting your gut, looked at me with compassion.
I could smell lilac and some spice that seemed reminiscent of a world long gone by but made me what want to curl up with a blanket and read a good book by the fire wafted my way.
A single, marred tattoo of a small cross ran down the index finger of his left hand.
The man sat down and said, “why don’t you and them hooves join me, Pappy?”
I go by a lot of names to keep myself safe in this shithole world, but I hadn’t gone by my real name since I beat a kid black and blue in elementary school for mocking me for it and my daddy had told me he was proud of me. Put a cigarette out on the back of my neck later that same night after a few too many for causing trouble.
The duality of man or whatever the Hell the academics prattle on about, I guess.
“They’re boots,” I snarled, playing at bravery, bluffing like I did every day of this wasted life, hopin’ it might but him back on his heels.
I didn’t know if I was messing with some damned creature not of this world or was just higher than a kite and seeing nonsense. While the latter seemed far more likely, I wanted to prepare for the former.
“Sure,” he said kindly, “sure.”
I sat down on the tattered stool.
“Where’s the bartender? And how the Hell do you know my name?”
“Calm down, son. You look like you could use a drink of the old blood. Sure beats those poisons you keep sticking in that body we gave ya.”
A wine glass appeared before each of us, filled to the brim. The man, or whatever it was, sipped away, humming some forgotten hymnal.
“I ain’t much of a vino fan. Got any Irish whisky?”
He lifted his glass as though to toast me and said “Sure. And you certainly will need that later. For now, the grapes of wrath, as it were.” A soft chuckle left his lips.
I sipped the wine. No sense bucking the bull when you don’t know how big or angry it really is.
It tasted like nothing I had ever had before. An indescribable, wicked deliciousness.
It warmed me up and filled me with light and hope and covered up all the dark holes that had punched through me by others.
Even plugged the ones I’d punched myself.
“We?”
The man took a small sip. “Sorry?”
“You said ‘the body *we* gave ya. *We*.”
It was only then I noticed he was crying.
There were no sobs, no audible gasps, no tremors or shakes, just slow, steady tears of blood dripping from those perfect blue orbs.
“Name’s Arah. I’m an Angel.”
Arah downed the goblet of wine, flecks of his bloody tears caking the glass’s rim.
“Behold, I send an angel before you to guard you on the way and to bring you to the place that I have prepared.”
This obvious machination of my drug addled brain chuckled louder this time, a slight slur and anger tinging his words.
“I’m even less for all that religious babble than I am for wine. Though this shit’s pretty damn good, I gotta admit.”
“LIAR!” Arah screamed, shaking the whole bar. His eyes were wide and obsidian and his chest heaved heavily.
“Liar.” This, a quiet whisper.
“You spent your whole life in church.
You soaked up every hopeful word, every promise of redemption and fixing, and the truth of that still rattles around inside you.
You can stick all the needles you want into that arm so you can lie to yourself and take away the pain you were meant to bear, but you can’t lie to me. We see everything, for we are many.”
Arah refreshed his glass with a small flourish of his hand before downing it again, his disposition getting slightly wobblier.
“DRINK!” he screamed, and when the world stopped shaking and those eyes turned blue again, I sure as shit started pounding the fermented fruit.
Ain't the time to be picky.
“You aren’t having a bad trip. I'm having a bad trip.”
The endless tears of blood fell quicker, like a swift red river coursing from a deep blue waterfall.
Small pools of it began forming of the bar. A slight acrid smell was on the air, barely noticeable behind all the wonderful aromas.
I felt warm and real and firm. I felt human again. My glass had been refilled and I downed another.
Okay, so I was getting wasted with an angel. Admittedly a first, even for my winding and warped road, but getting blitzed on Jesus Juice sure beat pissing off some emotionally unhinged cherub motherfucker.
“I can’t find Him. I can never find Him.”
Slight groans left Arah’s lips and he gulped down another glass.
With a minor twitch, the glass flew and smashed against the wall.
A nanosecond, if even, after the sound of shattering, it reappeared anew, full of the deep blood wine, before him, and he slurped it down his gullet.
I was trying to keep pace with him.
Shit I could drink a fifth of whisky and make it home alive but something in this good good had me slippin’. A part of me knew I should be petrified to ask, but the rest of me was too faded to care.
“Find who? What brings you here, cryin’ tears in yer beers?”
Now I was the one slurring.
“Take them.”
I looked down at the bar.
A belt. A syringe full of something brown and beautiful.
All the gear.
And six shots of what I prayed was Jameson.
“But where sin increased, grace abounded all the more.”
Arah was slurring hard now, slowly spinning in his chair, laughing and crying.
“Have a taste. At least there’ still manna.”
I shot the whole thing and downed that beautiful Irish whisky. Warmth and light filled me up and stole me away from this putrid rock.
Somehow, as wrecked as I was, I felt I could see Arah all the clearer, like the Sun pushing out the remnants of a storm. His hands looked withered, and those blue eyes looked heavy and tired.
“I miss Him. God. Father.”
I began to mumble some apocryphal question, but a raised hand silenced me.
“We’re taking communion here, son, an act of contrition, of grief, celebration and loss. I’m not giving about to give you a seminar on the finer points of how you all bungled what we gave you and called it ‘religion.’ Just shut the fuck up and drink.”
We downed a glass of wine in unison, a broken human and clearly a broken angel, performing a ritual at the alter we were left with.
“You wanna know why I’m here drinkin’? I know you do. I can hear it rattling around in that little rat brain of yours, gnawing, gnawing, gnawing.
Well, here’s why. GOD LEFT.
You remember your Bible.
Like a schizophrenic mother when the voices just crept too far in, he drowned all his children in the bathtub. He felt regret.
You apes can’t come to terms with the fact that it isn’t cognitive dissonance to be perfect and make mistakes. Your binaries and absolutes are the pathetic crutches you rest on, the prisons you build for yourselves. You think you live in the grey but you don’t. You are the simple minded mistake of something far greater than you could possibly fathom.
Hell ain't nothin' but a door locked from the inside.
He was right to drown all of you, ya know.
You’re an abortion that didn’t take.
You’re the science experiment gone wrong.
You’re the motherfucking poisonous residue left over when the manufacturing process goes the slightest bit awry.
He TRIED. He gave you EVERYTHING. And you chased him away.
He wanted to put you all down. Wipe the slate clean. Shoot the wolf with the broken leg caught in the trap. Mercy. But He had made those fuckin’ rainbows, and He kept his word.
You all sit and pout and scream and gnaw and gnash and blow each other up. Always the same shit in this horrible flat circle.
"My god is real, your god is fake! "
You never once consider you’re all talking about the same damn thing, and more to the point, you're spend your entire lives debating His existence. What a catastrophic waste to be so far from the mark.
Is He real? Is He a fairy tale?
Is there a big bearded man with a sword in the sky or is it just what some primitive apes told themselves to explain the lights in the night sky, a mechanism of control and purpose in an entropic and meaningless world?”
I felt frozen listening to Arah rant.
Somewhere, between the distant sound of brutal words, I heard that radio kick on.
“The Third Planet is sure that they’re being watched
By an Eye in the Sky that can’t be stopped
And when you get to the Promised Land
You’re gonna shake the Eye’s hand”
“You won’t.”
Arah spoke quietly and sipped and audibly sobbed.
“I…I won’t what?”
“Shake his hand. He’s GONE.
You all fight with words and books and swords and shells and atoms about whether he exists. It’s your relentless, simpleminded addiction to dichotomy. It would be so boring if it wasn’t so sickening.
You think He exists, and if He does, He is here and He loves you and hears your stupid little prayers about football and bone cancer and bank accounts and AIDS.
And if He doesn’t exist, well, it’s just a bunch of conmen working over some fools with a fairy tale.
Any of you shitbirds ever consider He exists and LOATHES you? That he cut the cord to that existential phone line and ain’t nobody on the other side of that line anymore?
You live in an infinite universe that is forever exploding and expanding. He exists outside of even that.
You think you’re special? You’re one tiny experiment among so fucking many, I couldn’t make the smartest mathematician in the history of this planet understand how infinitesimally numerically irrelevant you are.
The question isn’t, is God real or is it all a hoax, a self-delusion?
The salient question, Pappy, is whether He’s here. And He ain’t.
He kept his word and let you all live and fester and replicate and mutate like the virus you are. The fruit that ate itself.
But daddy split. Went out for smokes and He ain’t never coming back. Moved onto a new family. Just like He's done again and again and again. And I'm guessing will keep doing 'till He decides He got it right. Ain’t been here for a long time. Long, long time.”
6 glasses of wine appeared before Arah and he downed them all with lightning speed, spewing blood, sobbing and gasping and drinking.
His hair greyed and whitened and fell to the floor.
His nails began to decay and yellow.
The smell of shit and piss and bile crept up and began to make me nauseous.
“And you know who got really fucked? US. The angels.
God gave us instructions and we followed it. We knew what we had and we didn’t deviate. We did our duty. And He left us behind, too.”
Arah’s clothes began to whiten and dirty.
The enrapturing blue of his eyes began to fade, growing paler and lifeless. A wild, twisted beard and belly began to sprout.
“Then it goes and takes along with it seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and they go in and live there; and the last state of that man becomes worse than the first. That is the way it will also be with this evil generation."
Arah began shrieking.
"Fucking humans.
I AM AN ANGEL OF THE LORD YOUR GOD, AND I AM BOUND FOREVER TO THIS SHITHOLE OF A ROCK, ENDLESSLY SEARCHING THE COSMOS FOR A FATHER I CAN NEVER FIND, TRAPPED IN A PRISON I CAN NEVER LEAVE, FOR A CRIME I DIDN’T COMMIT.
YOU ALL DID THIS.
YOU ALL DID THIS.
YOU DID THIS.”
Arah leapt up and grabbed me by the throat, lifting me on high.
Fire scorched his eyes, leaving empty pale pools singed to a blackened crisp at the edges.
The wild, infested thing I’d seen before held me as though I weighed less than the judgment feather.
He was sobbing.
“I…I just did what I was told.
Do you know what Hell is? There’s no fucking lake of fire or torture rack with goats.
It’s this.
An endless existence having tasted God’s grace and love and then forever being separated from it, eternally searching for that one drug you know you can never find.
'Abashed the devil stood and felt how awful goodness is and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely: and pined his loss.'
This, this place, is Hell.”
All the opium in the world couldn’t save me from the stark terror of this celestial’s tortured judgment.
I was quaking and pissed myself.
“Now I got ya shakin’ in your boots. Nice hooves.”
He threw me and I slammed against the wall and I felt every ounce of wine and heroin and whisky spill out of my body and onto the floor.
In that moment, I felt the unmitigated suffering of absolute sobriety, and I’ve been sober every moment since.
This wild, unfettered thing inched closer to me.
It was only then I noticed the tattoo on his finger more closely. It was…clearer to me now. Everything was. That little cross on his finger was upside down as it faced me.
“What does your name mean, Arah? What did you do that made God leave all his angels behind?”
Arah opened his mouth and two snakes, one a viper, the other a colorful coral, slid out of his mouth and began encircling his head and neck, never striking, never squeezing, simply coiling infinitely.
“YOU FUCKING APES. I’LL RIP THE SOUL OUT OF EACH OF YOU AND EAT IT FOR LIFE ETERNAL.”
Arah, this manifestation of man’s worst nightmare, leapt at me, blood spewing, snakes dancing, the bar shaking and burning and reeking.
Alas, Babylon, for me.
Inches from me Arah froze, held still by some unseen force, his mouth snarling words that only came out as unintelligible, wet squelches.
A voice from the bar’s door whispered a single word.
“World.
In the first tongue, 'Arah' meant ‘World.’
At the door stood an older black woman with the kindest eyes I’d ever seen.
She wore a bracelet of thorns and a dress made of every flower my mind could conceive.
Golden eyes flecked with amber looked at me lovingly.
She quietly sauntered up to Arah and shook her head wistfully, a disapproving but loving mother wishing her child would just behave.
“You would do well to accept your place here, Arah. The Father may be gone, but this is where you and your lot stay. It was not man’s fall that bound you here.
Tell him what you did...Angel.”
Arah fell suddenly to the barroom floor, all the strength clearly sucked out of him.
“I..I did what I was told. I followed the orders I was given. It was for Him, Uriel.”
Uriel tutted her tongue as though an impudent child had told her a silly, obvious fib.
“You can lie to yourself all you want, Arah, but you cannot lie to me.
You, who whispered endlessly to Herod.
You, who dwelt in Caligula.
You, who served Qin Shi Huang.
You, who sought refuge in Robespierre .
You, who possessed Mengele.
‘And the angels who did not keep their positions of authority but abandoned their proper dwelling—these he has kept in darkness, bound with everlasting chains for judgment on the great Day.”
Uriel helped me to my feet, brushed me off, and lightly put her hand on her cheek. It was the only moment in my life I knew what the word “home” meant.
“And you won’t lie to Man, either.
You remember the deal you begged for, Arah? Let remind you:
'They began to entreat Him, saying, “If You are going to cast us out, send us into the herd of swine.'
You had the gall to call his creation, however staggeringly imperfect, swine.
You got what you asked for, then.
And you will have it for all time.
Get behind me.”
Uriel picked me up as though I were a mere baby and carried me to my truck. She laid me gently in the passenger side and started the engine.
The radio kicked on.
“I’m a rolling stone
All alone and lost
For a life of sin
I have paid the cost
Take my advice
Or you’ll curse the day
You started rollin’ down
That Lost Highway”
As she pulled away, I looked back at The Man from Capernaum one last time.
It was consumed in fire and the squeals of pigs shrieking carried through the cool night air.
“Do not pity him.
‘You cannot drink the cup of the Lord and the cup of demons.’
God may have left this world but let the Demon burn.”