52 inch white hugger ceiling fans

Would this be a good deal ? I'm trying to up my pc part picking skills to have reliability at a lower price ! (Unsure of flair)

2023.06.02 17:31 MonsieurGrey Would this be a good deal ? I'm trying to up my pc part picking skills to have reliability at a lower price ! (Unsure of flair)

submitted by MonsieurGrey to buildapc [link] [comments]

2023.06.02 17:25 dobromangregorio Strange stains appear on ceiling overnight.

A mystery for you to help me solve. At some point in a four day window, marks appeared on my living room ceiling. There are thousands of them and some, though very few, speckle a wall here or there, none more than 18 inches from the ceiling. Each mark has a heavy and then a pointed end. They are very small, tiny even. They are a dark reddish brown and they appear in two large arc like groupings. The two arcs are equally distant from the center of the room, and the arcs span from one long wall to the other, which make an odd sort of ellipse. But there are none along the long lengths of each wall. Yes, there is a ceiling fan, but the splatter patterns are in no way a spin art like image. They go every which way, no single origin direction. The marks come off somewhat easily with water, and leave a reddish brown stain on a tissue or rag when removed. I couldn’t find marks on flooring, fabric, furniture, and they do not appear outside the room. Greg imagined an injured bat, circling the room repeatedly hitting the ceiling and leaving blood splatter. That’s our best working theory, but no carcass has been found and no blood pooled anywhere or smeared. Help. What do you think?

submitted by dobromangregorio to Whatisthis [link] [comments]

2023.06.02 16:01 RandomHypnotica 00s Pop Punk Rate

Hello all-american rejects, mothers of Stacy and Hoobastankarinas! It is finally time to rate one of the subgenres of all time - pop punk! Welcome to the 00s Pop Punk Rate.

Introduction - What Is Pop Punk?

Pop punk is a genre that was invented by musical artist Machine Gun Kelly in the year 2020.
No but really, despite the sendup of it MGK contributed, the subgenre actually has a long and storied history dating back to the 1970s. One could argue bands such as The Ramones were essential foundations for the genre, if not themselves being a pop punk band. A reaction to the emergence of punk in the 70s, pop punk takes the energetic thrashings of punk music and overlays the sensibilities of pop song-crafting. Pop-punk saw an explosion of popularity in the late 90s with the rise of bands such as Blink-182, Green Day and The Offspring, and arguably hit its peak in the 00s with the creation of Van’s Warped Tour, a touring music festival that featured a lineup of some of the biggest pop-punk, post-punk and metal acts of the time. Alongside its rise, it would come to incorporate elements of ska, college rock, emo and post-punk.
Another element of pop-punk that differentiates it from punk is its lyrical focus. While punk’s focus tends to be heavily political and explicitly anti-authoritarian, pop-punk trades that topical focus for poppier subjects - love, lust, drunkenness, and how much the singers truly hate this town (worth mentioning that while this is in general true, especially of more mainstream pop punk acts, there are some notable exceptions).
In discussions of subgenres of punk, pop-punk tends to be largely ignored or snidely dismissed by both pop and punk communities but I think this is unfair. Yes, its lyrical subjects are often sophomoric and steeped in teen angst. Yes, the pop focus can cause the songs to feel derivative for some punk listeners. Yes, the culture surrounding pop punk has given us moments that are unintentionally hilarious. However, there is a reason this genre gained such attention - to borrow a phrase from pop, because it slaps. It takes pop music and thrashes it around. It fills the listener with nostalgic angst with power chord after power chord. It is an ode to the immaturity of youth. It is wildly influential; you can see pop-punk’s fingerprints in tons of modern genres - emo rap, hyperpop, and even Billboard-smashing pop songs.
Pop-punk is fun and raucous and a fantastic send-up to the teenage years many of us reminisce about. Today, it gets its due. Happy rating. - u/seanderlust
If you already know the drill because you're a regular rater, feel free to get rolling with the rate. Below are links to submit, a Pastebin ballot, and playlists for both Spotify and Apple Music:
Link to send in your scores
Pastebin Ballot
Spotify Playlist │ Apple Music Playlist

The songs

BONUS

Okay, so.
The 00s pop punk era of course coincided with the rise of a number of other genres. Seeing an opportunity for a genre overlap in the interest of gaining fans from other genres, indie punk and metal label Fearless Records put out a series of compilation albums over the 00s and 10s. These CDs contained tracks of punk bands doing covers of pop, metal, and various other genres. They referred to it under the umbrella term Punk Goes… and featured such titles as Punk Goes Metal, Punk Goes 80s, and Punk Goes Crunk.
The most popular though, and the one that garnered the most subsequent albums was Punk Goes Pop. In this series, punk bands covered various pop songs that were popular at the time in punkier stylings. Think of it as Now That’s What I Call Music, but if all the songs were sung by Mayday Parade. It was an interesting idea and gained the involved punk bands attention outside of their core fanbase. I mean come on - pop?! AND punk??!! What is this, a crossover episode?
For our bonus rate, we will be rating a sample of tracks that were recorded for the Punk Goes… series. Some of these are quite good! Some of these are certainly pieces of music that musicians decided to record! But which is the best? That is for you, dear popheads, to decide.

To be clear: Rating these songs is optional. You can give a score to one of them, two of them, all nine, or any number in between. You cannot use your 0 or 11 on any of them.

Rules & Instructions

PLEASE READ THESE THOROUGHLY TO AVOID HAVING TO DEAL WITH ANY PROBLEMS WITH YOUR BALLOT LATER.

You must listen to and score every song in the main rate. Ballots with missing scores will not be accepted.
Your scores must be on a scale from 1 to 10 and can include one decimal place but no more. So 7.3 is fine, but 7.31 is not.
You may give one song in the whole rate a score of 11 and one other a score of 0, so if you want to award these scores, save them for your favourite and least favourite songs in the rate, respectively. You must leave a comment on the songs you give an 11 or a 0, and they must be songs from the main rate, not the bonus.
We encourage you to leave comments of your general thoughts or reasoning behind your scores on any songs you wish. If you choose to do so however, they must be in this format, simply leaving one space after your score:

```
One Of THOSE Nights: 3 They wanna be Juicy J feat. The Weeknd soooooo bad ```
Any other formats will get your ballot rejected. WRONG EXAMPLES:
```
I Woke Up In A Car: Yeah but did you wake up in a new Bugatti? (8) (WRONG!)
The Curse Of Curves: 7: me getting a D+ on my trigonometry homework (WRONG!)
```

Your ballot must be formatted exactly like the template in the message link, so make sure you use it, or the template in the backup pastebin, for your scores to be accepted.
Your scores are not confidential. They will be revealed, along with any comments, with your username attached.
DO NOT SABOTAGE the rate by giving outrageously low/high scores for the sole purpose of skewing the results, we reserve the right to exclude any ballot we suspect of this. If you're worried your scores could be mistakenly perceived as such, all you need to do is leave comments explaining the reasoning behind them.
If you want to change any of your scores or comments after you've already submitted your ballot, feel free to message myself or my cohost u/seanderlust before the submission deadline to sort it.

The rate is Due on July 15th, if you think you need a small extension please let one of the hosts know!

Finally, here are the links you'll need to start rating:

Submission Link

If there's a problem with it, here's the backup pastebin.

And the playlists of all the songs in the rate.

Enjoy!

submitted by RandomHypnotica to popheads [link] [comments]

2023.06.02 14:15 Fun-Horror-9523 48 Inch Ceiling Fan

https://preview.redd.it/spkr224njl3b1.png?width=733&format=png&auto=webp&s=d647bfc0566f10bff41108b52783567818e22d6d
For home and commercial environments that require effective air circulation and cooling, A 48 inch Ceiling Fan is a popular option. This kind of ceiling fan is distinguished by its broad blade spread, which enables it to efficiently move a lot of air in a space. Find Below the top Rated Ceiling fan Brands In India.

Havells
Orient Electricals
Crompton
Usha Fans
Luminious
Bajaj.

submitted by Fun-Horror-9523 to u/Fun-Horror-9523 [link] [comments]

2023.06.02 14:11 well_nesscoach Apply Rs.50 Off Coupon : Anchor BLDC Ceiling Fan with Remote (Cream White)@ 2349

submitted by well_nesscoach to lootdeals_offers [link] [comments]

2023.06.02 12:30 FappidyDat [H] TF2 Keys & PayPal [W] Humble Bundle Games (Also Games From Past Bundles)

Notes:

I am EXTREMELY busy, but I check my messages and DMs at least ONCE per day. Please be patient and wait at least 24 hours for my response if I don't get back to you immediately.
I buy only in Unrevealed Key Link Format or Plain Steam Keys. No gift links.
For PayPal, I am in the US region and I only send via G&S. Please note there will be PayPal fees (including international/conversion and purchasing fees) to consider.
All games that you sell to me should ideally be REGION-FREE. Please ensure the games are not region-locked/bound to a specific country.
You must be willing to fill a spreadsheet with steam keys.

I pay with the following:
TF2 & PayPal

I BUY HB Games	with TF2	with PayPal	Currently Active Humble Bundle?
- Ratz Instagib -	0.9 TF2	$1.72 PP	-
20XX	0.4 TF2	$0.88 PP	-
5D Chess With Multiverse Time Travel	2.6 TF2	$5.19 PP	-
60 Parsecs!	0.8 TF2	$1.5 PP	-
7 Billion Humans	1.5 TF2	$2.91 PP	-
7 Days to Die	1.1 TF2	$2.16 PP	-
A Game of Thrones: The Board Game - Digital Edition	1.4 TF2	$2.78 PP	-
A Hat in Time	4.5 TF2	$8.98 PP	-
A Juggler's Tale	0.5 TF2	$1.07 PP	-
A Plague Tale: Innocence	1.9 TF2	$3.81 PP	-
AMID EVIL	0.6 TF2	$1.18 PP	-
AO Tennis 2	0.7 TF2	$1.3 PP	-
Absolver	1.8 TF2	$3.51 PP	-
Aeterna Noctis	1.6 TF2	$3.15 PP	-
Age of Empires Definitive Edition	1.2 TF2	$2.46 PP	-
Age of Empires III: Definitive Edition	1.3 TF2	$2.6 PP	-
Age of Wonders III Collection	0.9 TF2	$1.86 PP	-
Age of Wonders: Planetfall - Deluxe Edition	0.4 TF2	$0.88 PP	-
Age of Wonders: Planetfall	0.8 TF2	$1.6 PP	-
Airport CEO	2.8 TF2	$5.62 PP	-
Alan Wake Collector's Edition	0.8 TF2	$1.68 PP	-
Alien: Isolation	1.8 TF2	$3.52 PP	-
Aliens: Colonial Marines Collection	1.2 TF2	$2.45 PP	-
Aliens: Fireteam Elite	1.0 TF2	$1.99 PP	-
Amnesia: The Dark Descent	1.1 TF2	$2.25 PP	-
Among Us	1.2 TF2	$2.42 PP	-
Ancestors Legacy	0.6 TF2	$1.24 PP	-
Ancestors: The Humankind Odyssey	2.1 TF2	$4.07 PP	-
Aragami	0.5 TF2	$0.9 PP	-
Arizona Sunshine	2.1 TF2	$4.21 PP	-
Arma 3 Apex Edition	1.6 TF2	$3.24 PP	-
Arma 3 Contact Edition	2.4 TF2	$4.84 PP	-
Arma 3 Jets	0.9 TF2	$1.77 PP	-
Arma 3 Marksmen	0.9 TF2	$1.74 PP	-
Arma 3	1.9 TF2	$3.78 PP	-
Assetto Corsa Competizione	2.9 TF2	$5.83 PP	-
Assetto Corsa Ultimate Edition	5.0 TF2	$9.93 PP	-
BATTLETECH - Mercenary Collection	2.4 TF2	$4.79 PP	-
BIOMUTANT	1.6 TF2	$3.12 PP	-
BPM: BULLETS PER MINUTE	0.9 TF2	$1.75 PP	-
BROFORCE	1.1 TF2	$2.17 PP	-
Baba Is You	1.5 TF2	$3.01 PP	-
Back 4 Blood	3.0 TF2	$5.96 PP	-
Bad North: Jotunn Edition	0.9 TF2	$1.77 PP	-
Baldur's Gate II: Enhanced Edition	0.5 TF2	$1.01 PP	-
Baldur's Gate: Enhanced Edition	0.4 TF2	$0.83 PP	-
Bang-On Balls: Chronicles	2.6 TF2	$5.14 PP	-
Banished	2.2 TF2	$4.34 PP	-
Barotrauma	6.5 TF2	$12.95 PP	-
Batman - The Telltale Series	1.0 TF2	$1.9 PP	-
Batman Arkham Collection	1.2 TF2	$2.44 PP	-
Batman: Arkham Knight	0.4 TF2	$0.85 PP	-
Batman: The Enemy Within - The Telltale Series	1.1 TF2	$2.18 PP	-
Batman™: Arkham Knight Premium Edition	1.3 TF2	$2.55 PP	-
Batman™: Arkham Origins Blackgate - Deluxe Edition	0.4 TF2	$0.85 PP	-
Batman™: Arkham Origins	0.8 TF2	$1.67 PP	-
Batman™: Arkham VR	0.8 TF2	$1.5 PP	-
Battle Chasers: Nightwar	0.6 TF2	$1.21 PP	-
Battlefleet Gothic: Armada II	2.1 TF2	$4.17 PP	-
Battlefleet Gothic: Armada	0.9 TF2	$1.72 PP	-
Battlezone Gold Edition	2.2 TF2	$4.3 PP	-
Bendy and the Dark Revival	~~0.4 TF2~~ Refer To My Other Thread	~~$0.88 PP~~ Refer To My Other Thread	Humble Choice (May 2023)
Besiege	1.5 TF2	$2.92 PP	-
Beyond Blue	2.5 TF2	$4.94 PP	-
Beyond Two Souls	1.9 TF2	$3.83 PP	-
BioShock Collection	1.1 TF2	$2.18 PP	-
BioShock Infinite	0.9 TF2	$1.78 PP	-
BioShock Remastered	0.9 TF2	$1.78 PP	-
Bioshock Infinite: Season Pass	0.7 TF2	$1.34 PP	-
Blade of Darkness	1.2 TF2	$2.47 PP	-
Blair Witch	1.2 TF2	$2.3 PP	-
Blasphemous	~~1.3 TF2~~ Refer To My Other Thread	~~$2.58 PP~~ Refer To My Other Thread	Must-Play Metroidvanias Bundle
Blood Bowl 2 - Legendary Edition	0.7 TF2	$1.48 PP	-
Blood: Fresh Supply	0.4 TF2	$0.78 PP	-
Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night	~~1.7 TF2~~ Refer To My Other Thread	~~$3.37 PP~~ Refer To My Other Thread	Must-Play Metroidvanias Bundle
Boomerang Fu	0.6 TF2	$1.2 PP	-
Borderlands 2 VR	5.5 TF2	$10.93 PP	-
Borderlands 3 Super Deluxe Edition	~~3.1 TF2~~ Refer To My Other Thread	~~$6.19 PP~~ Refer To My Other Thread	May Multiplayer Bundle
Borderlands 3	1.6 TF2	$3.23 PP	-
Borderlands 3: Director's Cut	1.3 TF2	$2.51 PP	-
Borderlands: The Handsome Collection	3.4 TF2	$6.76 PP	-
Borderlands: The Pre-Sequel	0.6 TF2	$1.18 PP	-
Brutal Legend	0.8 TF2	$1.51 PP	-
Bus Simulator 18	2.1 TF2	$4.18 PP	-
CHUCHEL Cherry Edition	0.5 TF2	$0.97 PP	-
Call of Cthulhu	1.1 TF2	$2.25 PP	-
Call of Juarez: Gunslinger	0.5 TF2	$0.96 PP	-
Call to Arms - Gates of Hell: Ostfront	9.3 TF2	$18.38 PP	-
Car Mechanic Simulator 2018	0.7 TF2	$1.36 PP	-
Carcassonne - Tiles & Tactics	0.6 TF2	$1.22 PP	-
Celeste	1.8 TF2	$3.6 PP	-
Chess Ultra	0.6 TF2	$1.25 PP	-
Children of Morta	0.7 TF2	$1.43 PP	-
Chivalry 2	3.8 TF2	$7.45 PP	-
Chivalry: Medieval Warfare	0.7 TF2	$1.37 PP	-
Cities: Skylines Deluxe Edition	1.6 TF2	$3.18 PP	-
Cities: Skylines	1.4 TF2	$2.73 PP	-
Clone Drone in the Danger Zone	4.2 TF2	$8.32 PP	-
Cloudpunk	1.0 TF2	$2.02 PP	-
Code Vein	1.7 TF2	$3.3 PP	-
Coffee Talk	2.5 TF2	$4.98 PP	-
Company of Heroes 2 - The Western Front Armies	1.0 TF2	$1.94 PP	-
Company of Heroes 2	0.5 TF2	$1.0 PP	-
Company of Heroes	1.9 TF2	$3.79 PP	-
Conan Exiles	1.6 TF2	$3.26 PP	-
Construction Simulator 2015	1.3 TF2	$2.48 PP	-
Contagion	0.6 TF2	$1.11 PP	-
Control Ultimate Edition	2.0 TF2	$3.93 PP	-
Crash Bandicoot™ N. Sane Trilogy	9.6 TF2	$19.06 PP	-
Creed: Rise to Glory™	2.3 TF2	$4.47 PP	-
Crusader Kings II: Imperial Collection	10.0 TF2	$19.73 PP	-
Crusader Kings III	5.9 TF2	$11.73 PP	-
CryoFall	0.5 TF2	$0.92 PP	-
Cultist Simulator Anthology Edition	1.4 TF2	$2.79 PP	-
Cultist Simulator	0.6 TF2	$1.22 PP	-
DEATH STRANDING DIRECTOR'S CUT	2.6 TF2	$5.21 PP	-
DEATHLOOP	2.8 TF2	$5.47 PP	-
DIRT 5	4.3 TF2	$8.44 PP	-
DMC - Devil May Cry	1.0 TF2	$1.93 PP	-
DRAGON BALL FIGHTERZ - Ultimate Edition	10.0 TF2	$19.74 PP	-
DRAGON BALL XENOVERSE 2	1.9 TF2	$3.81 PP	-
DRAGON BALL XENOVERSE	0.6 TF2	$1.18 PP	-
DRAGONBALL XENOVERSE Bundle Edition	1.1 TF2	$2.16 PP	-
DRIFT21	0.6 TF2	$1.12 PP	-
Dark Deity	0.4 TF2	$0.85 PP	-
Dark Souls II: Scholar of the First Sin	8.7 TF2	$17.31 PP	-
Dark Souls III	12.6 TF2	$24.91 PP	-
Darkest Dungeon	0.7 TF2	$1.37 PP	-
Darksiders Genesis	1.3 TF2	$2.67 PP	-
Darksiders II Deathinitive Edition	1.1 TF2	$2.17 PP	-
Darksiders III	0.6 TF2	$1.26 PP	-
Darkwood	0.6 TF2	$1.16 PP	-
Day of the Tentacle Remastered	0.4 TF2	$0.88 PP	-
DayZ	7.6 TF2	$15.03 PP	-
Daymare: 1998	0.4 TF2	$0.79 PP	-
Dead Estate	1.0 TF2	$1.99 PP	-
Dead Island - Definitive Edition	0.8 TF2	$1.66 PP	-
Dead Island Definitive Collection	1.7 TF2	$3.3 PP	-
Dead Island Riptide - Definitive Edition	0.7 TF2	$1.4 PP	-
Dead Rising 2: Off the Record	1.2 TF2	$2.42 PP	-
Dead Rising 3 Apocalypse Edition	1.9 TF2	$3.7 PP	-
Dead Rising 4 Frank’s Big Package	2.5 TF2	$4.96 PP	-
Dead Rising 4	0.9 TF2	$1.73 PP	-
Dead Rising	1.0 TF2	$1.96 PP	-
Dead Rising® 2	1.1 TF2	$2.26 PP	-
Death Road to Canada	2.4 TF2	$4.84 PP	-
Death's Gambit	0.6 TF2	$1.15 PP	-
Deep Rock Galactic	3.3 TF2	$6.63 PP	-
Descenders	0.6 TF2	$1.15 PP	-
Desperados III	1.0 TF2	$1.93 PP	-
Destroy All Humans	0.7 TF2	$1.41 PP	-
Deus Ex: Human Revolution - Director's Cut	1.1 TF2	$2.25 PP	-
Deus Ex: Mankind Divided	1.1 TF2	$2.16 PP	-
Devil May Cry HD Collection	1.8 TF2	$3.5 PP	-
Devil May Cry® 4 Special Edition	1.6 TF2	$3.13 PP	-
DiRT Rally 2.0	5.1 TF2	$10.11 PP	-
Dinosaur Fossil Hunter	0.5 TF2	$0.9 PP	-
Distant Worlds: Universe	0.7 TF2	$1.29 PP	-
Doom Eternal	2.5 TF2	$4.94 PP	-
Door Kickers	1.9 TF2	$3.84 PP	-
Dorfromantik	2.0 TF2	$3.93 PP	-
Dragons Dogma - Dark Arisen	0.8 TF2	$1.57 PP	-
Drake Hollow	0.5 TF2	$0.91 PP	-
Drone Swarm	0.4 TF2	$0.81 PP	-
Dungeon Defenders	2.8 TF2	$5.47 PP	-
Dungeon Defenders: Awakened	2.8 TF2	$5.59 PP	-
Dungreed	0.9 TF2	$1.81 PP	-
Dusk	2.0 TF2	$3.91 PP	-
EARTH DEFENSE FORCE 4.1 The Shadow of New Despair	2.2 TF2	$4.28 PP	-
ELEX	1.1 TF2	$2.18 PP	-
EVERSPACE™	1.6 TF2	$3.16 PP	-
Elite: Dangerous	1.3 TF2	$2.67 PP	-
Empire of Sin	1.3 TF2	$2.55 PP	-
Endzone - A World Apart	0.5 TF2	$1.04 PP	-
Euro Truck Simulator 2	1.1 TF2	$2.19 PP	-
Exanima	2.6 TF2	$5.24 PP	-
FTL: Faster Than Light	1.0 TF2	$1.92 PP	-
Fable Anniversary	3.7 TF2	$7.32 PP	-
Fallout 76	2.1 TF2	$4.22 PP	-
Fantasy General II	0.6 TF2	$1.25 PP	-
Farming Simulator 17	0.6 TF2	$1.13 PP	-
Firefighting Simulator - The Squad	3.8 TF2	$7.47 PP	-
First Class Trouble	0.6 TF2	$1.12 PP	-
For The King	1.0 TF2	$1.92 PP	-
Forager	1.3 TF2	$2.6 PP	-
Forts	2.3 TF2	$4.52 PP	-
Friday the 13th: The Game	3.0 TF2	$5.86 PP	-
Frostpunk	1.0 TF2	$2.07 PP	-
Full Metal Furies	0.6 TF2	$1.15 PP	-
Furi	0.8 TF2	$1.62 PP	-
GRID - Ultimate	2.0 TF2	$3.97 PP	-
GRID	0.9 TF2	$1.81 PP	-
GRIS	0.5 TF2	$0.92 PP	-
Gang Beasts	3.0 TF2	$5.89 PP	-
Garden Paws	1.0 TF2	$2.05 PP	-
Gas Station Simulator	1.9 TF2	$3.68 PP	-
Gears 5	11.7 TF2	$23.1 PP	-
Gears Tactics	4.5 TF2	$8.93 PP	-
Generation Zero®	~~1.5 TF2~~ Refer To My Other Thread	~~$2.93 PP~~ Refer To My Other Thread	May Multiplayer Bundle
Goat Simulator	0.4 TF2	$0.88 PP	-
Godlike Burger	1.1 TF2	$2.1 PP	-
Golf With Your Friends	0.9 TF2	$1.69 PP	-
Gordian Quest	1.8 TF2	$3.58 PP	-
Gotham Knights	5.5 TF2	$10.83 PP	-
GreedFall	0.8 TF2	$1.54 PP	-
Grim Dawn	5.2 TF2	$10.28 PP	-
Grim Fandango Remastered	0.6 TF2	$1.09 PP	-
Guacamelee! 2	0.6 TF2	$1.19 PP	-
HITMAN™2 Gold Edition	3.1 TF2	$6.16 PP	-
HIVESWAP: Act 2	2.1 TF2	$4.18 PP	-
HOT WHEELS UNLEASHED™	1.8 TF2	$3.66 PP	-
HROT	1.9 TF2	$3.7 PP	-
Haiku, the Robot	~~1.3 TF2~~ Refer To My Other Thread	~~$2.56 PP~~ Refer To My Other Thread	Must-Play Metroidvanias Bundle
Hard Bullet	1.2 TF2	$2.38 PP	-
Hearts of Iron IV: Battle for the Bosporus	1.8 TF2	$3.53 PP	-
Hearts of Iron IV: Cadet Edition	2.7 TF2	$5.3 PP	-
Hearts of Iron IV: Death or Dishonor	0.9 TF2	$1.74 PP	-
Hearts of Iron IV: Waking the Tiger	1.9 TF2	$3.68 PP	-
Heave Ho	0.6 TF2	$1.1 PP	-
Heavy Rain	2.1 TF2	$4.15 PP	-
Hell Let Loose	5.2 TF2	$10.32 PP	-
Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice	1.1 TF2	$2.26 PP	-
Hello, Neighbor!	0.5 TF2	$0.91 PP	-
Hellpoint	0.4 TF2	$0.75 PP	-
Hero's Hour	0.5 TF2	$0.92 PP	-
Heroes of Hammerwatch	0.6 TF2	$1.13 PP	-
Hitman Absolution	0.4 TF2	$0.79 PP	-
Hitman Game of the Year Edition	1.3 TF2	$2.61 PP	-
Hollow Knight	~~2.8 TF2~~ Refer To My Other Thread	~~$5.48 PP~~ Refer To My Other Thread	Must-Play Metroidvanias Bundle
Homefront: The Revolution	0.8 TF2	$1.68 PP	-
Homeworld: Deserts of Kharak	0.4 TF2	$0.77 PP	-
Horizon Chase Turbo	0.4 TF2	$0.72 PP	-
Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number Digital Special Edition	0.7 TF2	$1.46 PP	-
Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number	0.6 TF2	$1.15 PP	-
Hotline Miami	0.8 TF2	$1.56 PP	-
House Flipper VR	0.9 TF2	$1.73 PP	-
House Flipper	2.8 TF2	$5.5 PP	-
Human: Fall Flat	0.9 TF2	$1.88 PP	-
HuniePop	0.4 TF2	$0.89 PP	-
Huntdown	1.3 TF2	$2.6 PP	-
Hurtworld	2.1 TF2	$4.07 PP	-
Hyper Light Drifter	1.6 TF2	$3.11 PP	-
Hypnospace Outlaw	0.8 TF2	$1.55 PP	-
I Expect You To Die	1.4 TF2	$2.68 PP	-
I-NFECTED	6.3 TF2	$12.5 PP	-
INSURGENCY	1.6 TF2	$3.16 PP	-
Icewind Dale: Enhanced Edition	0.4 TF2	$0.73 PP	-
Imperator: Rome Deluxe Edition	1.1 TF2	$2.09 PP	-
Imperator: Rome	0.8 TF2	$1.6 PP	-
Injustice 2 Legendary Edition	0.9 TF2	$1.76 PP	-
Injustice 2	0.7 TF2	$1.46 PP	-
Injustice: Gods Among Us - Ultimate Edition	0.7 TF2	$1.32 PP	-
Into the Breach	1.5 TF2	$2.93 PP	-
Into the Radius VR	2.9 TF2	$5.84 PP	-
Ion Fury	1.6 TF2	$3.12 PP	-
Iron Harvest	1.4 TF2	$2.74 PP	-
Jalopy	0.9 TF2	$1.87 PP	-
Job Simulator	6.6 TF2	$13.01 PP	-
Jurassic World Evolution 2	2.4 TF2	$4.81 PP	-
Jurassic World Evolution	0.7 TF2	$1.43 PP	-
Just Cause 2	0.5 TF2	$1.06 PP	-
Just Cause 3 XXL Edition	1.3 TF2	$2.63 PP	-
Just Cause 4: Complete Edition	2.0 TF2	$3.97 PP	-
KartKraft	3.2 TF2	$6.3 PP	-
Katamari Damacy REROLL	1.1 TF2	$2.24 PP	-
Katana ZERO	1.1 TF2	$2.23 PP	-
Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes	2.7 TF2	$5.42 PP	-
Kerbal Space Program	0.8 TF2	$1.6 PP	-
Killer Instinct	8.8 TF2	$17.49 PP	-
Killing Floor 2	0.6 TF2	$1.2 PP	-
Killing Floor	0.9 TF2	$1.69 PP	-
Kingdom Come: Deliverance	1.5 TF2	$2.93 PP	-
Kingdom: Two Crowns	1.0 TF2	$1.95 PP	-
LEGO Batman 3: Beyond Gotham Premium Edition	0.5 TF2	$0.9 PP	-
LEGO Batman Trilogy	1.6 TF2	$3.07 PP	-
LEGO Harry Potter: Years 1-4	0.4 TF2	$0.79 PP	-
LEGO Harry Potter: Years 5-7	0.6 TF2	$1.11 PP	-
LEGO Lord of the Rings	0.4 TF2	$0.83 PP	-
LEGO Star Wars III: The Clone Wars	0.5 TF2	$1.05 PP	-
LEGO Star Wars: The Complete Saga	0.6 TF2	$1.13 PP	-
LEGO® City Undercover	0.7 TF2	$1.34 PP	-
LEGO® DC Super-Villains Deluxe Edition	1.7 TF2	$3.28 PP	-
LEGO® DC Super-Villains	0.4 TF2	$0.78 PP	-
LEGO® Jurassic World™	0.4 TF2	$0.71 PP	-
LEGO® MARVEL's Avengers	0.4 TF2	$0.78 PP	-
LEGO® Marvel Super Heroes 2 Deluxe Edition	0.9 TF2	$1.83 PP	-
LEGO® Marvel Super Heroes 2	0.7 TF2	$1.34 PP	-
LEGO® Star Wars™: The Force Awakens - Deluxe Edition	1.1 TF2	$2.25 PP	-
LEGO® Star Wars™: The Force Awakens	0.6 TF2	$1.15 PP	-
LEGO® Worlds	1.1 TF2	$2.12 PP	-
LIMBO	0.4 TF2	$0.71 PP	-
Labyrinth City: Pierre the Maze Detective	0.7 TF2	$1.47 PP	-
Labyrinthine	1.9 TF2	$3.76 PP	-
Lake	0.8 TF2	$1.51 PP	-
Last Oasis	1.6 TF2	$3.11 PP	-
Layers of Fear 2	6.3 TF2	$12.52 PP	-
Layers of Fear	0.6 TF2	$1.12 PP	-
Legion TD 2	1.7 TF2	$3.33 PP	-
Len's Island	4.2 TF2	$8.26 PP	-
Lethal League Blaze	1.5 TF2	$3.06 PP	-
Lethal League	0.8 TF2	$1.58 PP	-
Library Of Ruina	3.2 TF2	$6.42 PP	-
Life is Feudal: Your Own	0.7 TF2	$1.39 PP	-
Life is Strange 2 Complete Season	0.7 TF2	$1.33 PP	-
Life is Strange Complete Season (Episodes 1-5)	4.5 TF2	$8.95 PP	-
Little Misfortune	2.3 TF2	$4.47 PP	-
Little Nightmares Complete Edition	1.6 TF2	$3.22 PP	-
Little Nightmares	1.0 TF2	$2.06 PP	-
Lobotomy Corporation Monster Management Simulation	5.0 TF2	$9.99 PP	-
Loot River	3.3 TF2	$6.47 PP	-
Lost Ember	1.4 TF2	$2.76 PP	-
Luck be a Landlord	~~2.4 TF2~~ Refer To My Other Thread	~~$4.77 PP~~ Refer To My Other Thread	Luck of the Draw: Roguelike Deckbuilders Bundle
METAL GEAR SOLID V: The Definitive Experience	1.5 TF2	$2.89 PP	-
MONSTER HUNTER RISE	4.1 TF2	$8.09 PP	-
MORTAL KOMBAT 11	1.8 TF2	$3.53 PP	-
MX vs ATV Reflex	0.4 TF2	$0.71 PP	-
Mad Max	1.2 TF2	$2.32 PP	-
Mafia II: Definitive Edition	3.6 TF2	$7.11 PP	-
Mafia III: Definitive Edition	2.1 TF2	$4.21 PP	-
Mafia: Definitive Edition	2.2 TF2	$4.36 PP	-
Magicka 2 - Deluxe Edition	0.9 TF2	$1.69 PP	-
Magicka 2	0.6 TF2	$1.18 PP	-
Maneater	0.8 TF2	$1.63 PP	-
Manhunt	1.1 TF2	$2.18 PP	-
Mars Horizon	0.8 TF2	$1.53 PP	-
Mass Effect™ Legendary Edition	7.8 TF2	$15.36 PP	-
Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne	0.6 TF2	$1.22 PP	-
Max Payne	1.0 TF2	$2.06 PP	-
MechWarrior 5: Mercenaries	2.5 TF2	$5.02 PP	-
Medal of Honor	2.1 TF2	$4.24 PP	-
Mega Man Legacy Collection	0.5 TF2	$0.9 PP	-
Men of War: Assault Squad 2 - Deluxe Edition	0.9 TF2	$1.69 PP	-
Men of War: Assault Squad 2 War Chest Edition	0.8 TF2	$1.6 PP	-
Men of War: Assault Squad 2	0.8 TF2	$1.6 PP	-
Metro 2033 Redux	0.5 TF2	$1.05 PP	-
Metro Exodus	1.4 TF2	$2.79 PP	-
Metro Redux Bundle	1.1 TF2	$2.17 PP	-
Metro: Last Light Redux	1.1 TF2	$2.26 PP	-
Middle-earth: Shadow of Mordor Game of the Year Edition	0.9 TF2	$1.71 PP	-
Middle-earth™: Shadow of War™	0.9 TF2	$1.8 PP	-
Middleearth Shadow of War Definitive Edition	1.2 TF2	$2.37 PP	-
Midnight Ghost Hunt	~~2.5 TF2~~ Refer To My Other Thread	~~$4.93 PP~~ Refer To My Other Thread	May Multiplayer Bundle
Mini Ninjas	0.5 TF2	$1.05 PP	-
Mirror's Edge	2.2 TF2	$4.36 PP	-
Miscreated	1.4 TF2	$2.87 PP	-
Monster Hunter: World	3.5 TF2	$6.89 PP	-
Monster Sanctuary	0.6 TF2	$1.26 PP	-
Monster Train	0.5 TF2	$0.92 PP	-
Moonlighter	0.4 TF2	$0.85 PP	-
Moons of Madness	1.8 TF2	$3.48 PP	-
Mordhau	1.7 TF2	$3.32 PP	-
Mortal Shell	1.4 TF2	$2.77 PP	-
Motorcycle Mechanic Simulator 2021	0.8 TF2	$1.58 PP	-
Motorsport Manager	1.3 TF2	$2.55 PP	-
Move or Die	0.7 TF2	$1.46 PP	-
Moving Out	1.4 TF2	$2.82 PP	-
Mutant Year Zero: Road to Eden - Deluxe Edition	1.5 TF2	$3.01 PP	-
My Friend Pedro	1.0 TF2	$1.91 PP	-
My Time At Portia	0.7 TF2	$1.43 PP	-
NARUTO SHIPPUDEN: Ultimate Ninja STORM 4 Road to Boruto	2.6 TF2	$5.23 PP	-
NARUTO SHIPPUDEN: Ultimate Ninja STORM Revolution	0.8 TF2	$1.5 PP	-
NASCAR Heat 5 - Ultimate Edition	0.6 TF2	$1.1 PP	-
NBA 2K13	4.8 TF2	$9.52 PP	-
Naruto Shippuden: Ultimate Ninja Storm 4	1.6 TF2	$3.14 PP	-
Naruto to Boruto Shinobi Striker - Deluxe Edition	1.6 TF2	$3.13 PP	-
Naruto to Boruto Shinobi Striker	0.4 TF2	$0.83 PP	-
Necromunda: Hired Gun	0.7 TF2	$1.45 PP	-
Neon Abyss	0.5 TF2	$1.01 PP	-
Neverwinter Nights: Complete Adventures	3.7 TF2	$7.33 PP	-
Nine Parchments	2.2 TF2	$4.27 PP	-
No Time to Relax	2.9 TF2	$5.75 PP	-
Northgard	~~3.9 TF2~~ Refer To My Other Thread	~~$7.64 PP~~ Refer To My Other Thread	May Multiplayer Bundle
Not For Broadcast	0.7 TF2	$1.36 PP	-
ONE PIECE BURNING BLOOD GOLD EDITION	2.0 TF2	$3.91 PP	-
ONE PIECE BURNING BLOOD	0.7 TF2	$1.46 PP	-
ONE PIECE PIRATE WARRIORS 3 Gold Edition	1.2 TF2	$2.38 PP	-
Observer	0.4 TF2	$0.74 PP	-
Oddworld: New 'n' Tasty	0.4 TF2	$0.72 PP	-
One Step From Eden	0.5 TF2	$1.03 PP	-
Operation: Tango	~~0.4 TF2~~ Refer To My Other Thread	~~$0.8 PP~~ Refer To My Other Thread	Humble Choice (May 2023)
Opus Magnum	1.1 TF2	$2.13 PP	-
Orcs Must Die! 3	1.9 TF2	$3.69 PP	-
Outlast 2	0.6 TF2	$1.17 PP	-
Outlast	0.5 TF2	$1.06 PP	-
Outward	1.5 TF2	$2.94 PP	-
Overcooked	1.0 TF2	$2.02 PP	-
Overcooked! 2	1.3 TF2	$2.59 PP	-
Overgrowth	0.8 TF2	$1.53 PP	-
Overlord II	0.4 TF2	$0.85 PP	-
Owlboy	1.0 TF2	$2.04 PP	-
PAYDAY 2	0.4 TF2	$0.82 PP	-
PC Building Simulator	0.7 TF2	$1.32 PP	-
PGA TOUR 2K21	0.6 TF2	$1.24 PP	-
Paint the Town Red	2.4 TF2	$4.73 PP	-
Parkitect	5.5 TF2	$10.98 PP	-
Party Hard 2	0.4 TF2	$0.71 PP	-
Pathfinder: Kingmaker - Enhanced Plus Edition	0.6 TF2	$1.25 PP	-
Pathologic 2	0.5 TF2	$1.04 PP	-
Pathologic Classic HD	0.4 TF2	$0.85 PP	-
Per Aspera	0.7 TF2	$1.39 PP	-
Phantom Doctrine	0.4 TF2	$0.85 PP	-
Pillars of Eternity Definitive Edition	1.3 TF2	$2.66 PP	-
Pillars of Eternity II: Deadfire	1.0 TF2	$2.07 PP	-
Pistol Whip	6.2 TF2	$12.33 PP	-
Plague Inc: Evolved	1.6 TF2	$3.23 PP	-
Planescape: Torment: Enhanced Edition	0.4 TF2	$0.78 PP	-
Planet Coaster	1.8 TF2	$3.55 PP	-
Planet Zoo	2.0 TF2	$3.93 PP	-
Planetary Annihilation: TITANS	6.0 TF2	$11.91 PP	-
Portal Knights	1.3 TF2	$2.62 PP	-
Power Rangers: Battle for the Grid	2.8 TF2	$5.48 PP	-
PowerBeatsVR	1.0 TF2	$1.99 PP	-
PowerSlave Exhumed	1.4 TF2	$2.79 PP	-
Praey for the Gods	0.6 TF2	$1.16 PP	-
Prehistoric Kingdom	1.5 TF2	$2.93 PP	-
Prison Architect	0.4 TF2	$0.76 PP	-
Pro Cycling Manager 2019	1.3 TF2	$2.61 PP	-
Project Hospital	2.4 TF2	$4.82 PP	-
Project Wingman	2.6 TF2	$5.21 PP	-
Project Winter	1.1 TF2	$2.17 PP	-
Propnight	0.7 TF2	$1.32 PP	-
Pumpkin Jack	0.4 TF2	$0.84 PP	-
Quantum Break	2.0 TF2	$4.0 PP	-
RESIDENT EVIL 3	2.3 TF2	$4.49 PP	-
RUGBY 20	1.3 TF2	$2.58 PP	-
RWBY: Grimm Eclipse	3.3 TF2	$6.62 PP	-
Ragnaröck	3.5 TF2	$6.93 PP	-
Rain World	~~1.1 TF2~~ Refer To My Other Thread	~~$2.19 PP~~ Refer To My Other Thread	Must-Play Metroidvanias Bundle
Raw Data	1.1 TF2	$2.17 PP	-
Re:Legend	1.1 TF2	$2.13 PP	-
Red Faction Guerrilla Re-Mars-tered	0.5 TF2	$0.95 PP	-
Red Matter	4.5 TF2	$8.95 PP	-
Resident Evil / biohazard HD REMASTER	1.1 TF2	$2.23 PP	-
Resident Evil 0 / biohazard 0 HD Remaster	1.2 TF2	$2.35 PP	-
Resident Evil 5 GOLD Edition	1.8 TF2	$3.53 PP	-
Resident Evil 5	1.1 TF2	$2.16 PP	-
Resident Evil 6	1.4 TF2	$2.81 PP	-
Resident Evil: Revelations 2 Deluxe Edition	2.5 TF2	$4.88 PP	-
Resident Evil: Revelations	0.8 TF2	$1.5 PP	-
Retro Machina	0.5 TF2	$1.02 PP	-
Risen 2: Dark Waters Gold Edition	1.5 TF2	$2.88 PP	-
Risen 3 - Complete Edition	1.0 TF2	$2.07 PP	-
Risen	0.9 TF2	$1.82 PP	-
Rising Storm 2: Vietnam	0.7 TF2	$1.34 PP	-
River City Girls	1.4 TF2	$2.87 PP	-
Roboquest	0.5 TF2	$1.06 PP	-
RollerCoaster Tycoon Deluxe	1.1 TF2	$2.09 PP	-
Rollercoaster Tycoon 2: Triple Thrill Pack	1.7 TF2	$3.28 PP	-
Rubber Bandits	0.8 TF2	$1.52 PP	-
Ryse: Son of Rome	1.7 TF2	$3.38 PP	-
SCP: Pandemic	2.2 TF2	$4.28 PP	-
SCUM	3.0 TF2	$5.96 PP	-
SOMA	2.4 TF2	$4.8 PP	-
SONG OF HORROR Complete Edition	0.7 TF2	$1.42 PP	-
STAR WARS® THE FORCE UNLEASHED II	0.8 TF2	$1.62 PP	-
STAR WARS™: Squadrons	1.6 TF2	$3.23 PP	-
SUPERHOT VR	2.3 TF2	$4.51 PP	-
SUPERHOT	0.8 TF2	$1.59 PP	-
SUPERHOT: MIND CONTROL DELETE	0.5 TF2	$1.02 PP	-
Saint's Row The Third Remastered	2.3 TF2	$4.5 PP	-
Saints Row 2	0.6 TF2	$1.16 PP	-
Saints Row IV Game of the Century Edition	1.1 TF2	$2.25 PP	-
Saints Row IV	1.0 TF2	$2.05 PP	-
Saints Row the Third - The Full Package	1.0 TF2	$1.93 PP	-
Saints Row: The Third	0.6 TF2	$1.27 PP	-
Salt and Sanctuary	1.1 TF2	$2.15 PP	-
Sanctum 2	0.5 TF2	$1.06 PP	-
Satisfactory	6.6 TF2	$13.01 PP	-
Second Extinction	2.1 TF2	$4.11 PP	-
Secret Neighbor	0.9 TF2	$1.85 PP	-
Serious Sam 2	0.8 TF2	$1.58 PP	-
Serious Sam 3: BFE	1.0 TF2	$1.99 PP	-
Serious Sam 4	4.0 TF2	$7.94 PP	-
Serious Sam: Siberian Mayhem	2.3 TF2	$4.51 PP	-
Shadow Man Remastered	1.0 TF2	$2.0 PP	-
Shadow Tactics: Blades of the Shogun	0.4 TF2	$0.85 PP	-
Shadow Warrior 2	0.9 TF2	$1.76 PP	-
Shadow of the Tomb Raider	3.2 TF2	$6.37 PP	-
Shenmue 3	1.3 TF2	$2.58 PP	-
Shenmue I & II	1.3 TF2	$2.58 PP	-
Shining Resonance Refrain	0.5 TF2	$0.96 PP	-
Sid Meier's Civilization VI : Platinum Edition	3.0 TF2	$6.03 PP	-
Sid Meier's Civilization VI	0.7 TF2	$1.47 PP	-
Sid Meier's Civilization® V: The Complete Edition	1.9 TF2	$3.76 PP	-
Sid Meiers Civilization IV: The Complete Edition	0.8 TF2	$1.6 PP	-
Siege of Centauri	0.6 TF2	$1.16 PP	-
SimCasino	1.3 TF2	$2.56 PP	-
SimplePlanes	1.9 TF2	$3.78 PP	-
Skullgirls 2nd Encore	1.2 TF2	$2.47 PP	-
Slap City	1.1 TF2	$2.25 PP	-
Slay the Spire	3.6 TF2	$7.17 PP	-
Sleeping Dogs: Definitive Edition	1.0 TF2	$1.93 PP	-
Slime Rancher	1.7 TF2	$3.32 PP	-
Sniper Elite 3	1.1 TF2	$2.14 PP	-
Sniper Elite 4	1.3 TF2	$2.53 PP	-
Sniper Elite V2 Remastered	1.3 TF2	$2.5 PP	-
Sniper Elite V2	1.0 TF2	$2.05 PP	-
Sniper Ghost Warrior 3	0.8 TF2	$1.58 PP	-
Sniper Ghost Warrior Contracts	0.9 TF2	$1.88 PP	-
Sonic Adventure DX	0.5 TF2	$0.92 PP	-
Sonic Adventure 2	0.9 TF2	$1.86 PP	-
Sonic Mania	1.3 TF2	$2.6 PP	-
Soul Calibur VI	1.6 TF2	$3.24 PP	-
Source of Madness	0.6 TF2	$1.13 PP	-
Space Engineers	2.7 TF2	$5.3 PP	-
Space Haven	0.6 TF2	$1.15 PP	-
Spec Ops: The Line	0.9 TF2	$1.81 PP	-
SpeedRunners	0.5 TF2	$1.04 PP	-
Spellcaster University	0.5 TF2	$0.9 PP	-
Spelunky	1.1 TF2	$2.23 PP	-
Spirit Of The Island	1.3 TF2	$2.59 PP	-
Spiritfarer	~~1.1 TF2~~ Refer To My Other Thread	~~$2.18 PP~~ Refer To My Other Thread	Humble Choice (May 2023)
SpongeBob SquarePants: Battle for Bikini Bottom - Rehydrated	1.3 TF2	$2.51 PP	-
Spyro™ Reignited Trilogy	4.9 TF2	$9.65 PP	-
Squad	7.9 TF2	$15.55 PP	-
Star Renegades	3.0 TF2	$5.94 PP	-
Star Trek: Bridge Crew	4.4 TF2	$8.62 PP	-
Star Wars Republic Commando™	0.4 TF2	$0.71 PP	-
Star Wars: Battlefront 2 (Classic, 2005)	1.4 TF2	$2.7 PP	-
Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic	0.4 TF2	$0.85 PP	-
Star Wars® Empire at War™: Gold Pack	1.2 TF2	$2.39 PP	-
Starbound	1.1 TF2	$2.24 PP	-
Starpoint Gemini Warlords	1.8 TF2	$3.48 PP	-
State of Decay 2: Juggernaut Edition	3.0 TF2	$5.92 PP	-
Staxel	0.6 TF2	$1.15 PP	-
SteamWorld Quest: Hand of Gilgamech	0.9 TF2	$1.83 PP	-
Steel Division: Normandy 44	1.5 TF2	$2.91 PP	-
Stellaris Galaxy Edition	1.8 TF2	$3.56 PP	-
Stellaris: Lithoids Species Pack	0.8 TF2	$1.49 PP	-
Stick Fight: The Game	0.6 TF2	$1.1 PP	-
Strategic Command WWII: World at War	2.2 TF2	$4.26 PP	-
Street Fighter 30th Anniversary Collection	1.5 TF2	$2.94 PP	-
Streets of Rogue	0.6 TF2	$1.24 PP	-
Stronghold 2: Steam Edition	2.0 TF2	$4.0 PP	-
Stronghold Crusader 2	0.9 TF2	$1.84 PP	-
Stronghold Crusader HD	0.6 TF2	$1.24 PP	-
Stronghold Legends: Steam Edition	0.9 TF2	$1.76 PP	-
Styx: Shards Of Darkness	0.9 TF2	$1.76 PP	-
Subnautica	3.6 TF2	$7.15 PP	-
Summer in Mara	0.6 TF2	$1.09 PP	-
Sunless Sea	0.4 TF2	$0.76 PP	-
Sunless Skies	0.7 TF2	$1.34 PP	-
Sunset Overdrive	1.0 TF2	$2.01 PP	-
Super Meat Boy	0.5 TF2	$1.08 PP	-
Superliminal	1.9 TF2	$3.84 PP	-
Supraland Six Inches Under	1.5 TF2	$2.89 PP	-
Supreme Commander 2	0.8 TF2	$1.62 PP	-
Supreme Commander Forged Alliance	2.0 TF2	$4.02 PP	-
Surgeon Simulator: Experience Reality	1.8 TF2	$3.5 PP	-
Survive the Nights	0.9 TF2	$1.69 PP	-
Surviving Mars	0.5 TF2	$0.92 PP	-
Surviving the Aftermath	0.7 TF2	$1.41 PP	-
Sword Art Online Fatal Bullet - Complete Edition	3.3 TF2	$6.45 PP	-
Sword Art Online Hollow Realization Deluxe Edition	1.5 TF2	$3.01 PP	-
Syberia: The World Before	1.2 TF2	$2.32 PP	-
Synth Riders	3.5 TF2	$6.96 PP	-
TEKKEN 7	1.5 TF2	$2.9 PP	-
THE KING OF FIGHTERS '98 ULTIMATE MATCH FINAL EDITION	0.4 TF2	$0.85 PP	-
THE KING OF FIGHTERS 2002 UNLIMITED MATCH	0.6 TF2	$1.18 PP	-
Tales from the Borderlands	3.4 TF2	$6.83 PP	-
Tales of Berseria	1.1 TF2	$2.12 PP	-
Tales of Zestiria	0.9 TF2	$1.72 PP	-
Talisman: Digital Edition	0.5 TF2	$0.94 PP	-
Tank Mechanic Simulator	1.1 TF2	$2.17 PP	-
Telltale Batman Shadows Edition	1.0 TF2	$1.9 PP	-
Terraforming Mars	0.6 TF2	$1.15 PP	-
Terraria	2.2 TF2	$4.26 PP	-
The Ascent	1.1 TF2	$2.26 PP	-
The Battle of Polytopia	0.4 TF2	$0.85 PP	-
The Beast Inside	0.4 TF2	$0.77 PP	-
The Blackout Club	0.6 TF2	$1.17 PP	-
The Dark Pictures Anthology: Little Hope	1.6 TF2	$3.12 PP	-
The Dark Pictures Anthology: Man of Medan	2.2 TF2	$4.42 PP	-
The Darkness II	0.5 TF2	$0.99 PP	-
The Dungeon Of Naheulbeuk: The Amulet Of Chaos	0.9 TF2	$1.69 PP	-
The Escapists 2	0.9 TF2	$1.85 PP	-
The Escapists	0.6 TF2	$1.13 PP	-
The Henry Stickmin Collection	0.7 TF2	$1.46 PP	-
The Incredible Adventures of Van Helsing Final Cut	1.3 TF2	$2.67 PP	-
The Intruder	2.2 TF2	$4.28 PP	-
The Jackbox Party Pack 2	2.0 TF2	$4.02 PP	-
The Jackbox Party Pack 3	2.9 TF2	$5.76 PP	-
The Jackbox Party Pack 4	2.1 TF2	$4.14 PP	-
The Jackbox Party Pack 5	3.1 TF2	$6.15 PP	-
The Jackbox Party Pack 6	2.8 TF2	$5.58 PP	-
The Jackbox Party Pack	1.1 TF2	$2.18 PP	-
The LEGO Movie 2 Videogame	0.4 TF2	$0.8 PP	-
The Last Campfire	0.4 TF2	$0.78 PP	-
The Legend of Heroes: Trails in the Sky	1.8 TF2	$3.57 PP	-
The Long Dark	2.0 TF2	$4.0 PP	-
The Long Dark: Survival Edition	0.4 TF2	$0.78 PP	-
The Mortuary Assistant	2.4 TF2	$4.82 PP	-
The Red Solstice 2: Survivors	0.4 TF2	$0.78 PP	-
The Surge 2	0.9 TF2	$1.83 PP	-
The Survivalists	0.7 TF2	$1.36 PP	-
The Talos Principle	1.0 TF2	$2.06 PP	-
The Walking Dead: A New Frontier	0.4 TF2	$0.71 PP	-
The Walking Dead: The Final Season	0.5 TF2	$0.92 PP	-
The Walking Dead: The Telltale Definitive Series	2.2 TF2	$4.41 PP	-
The Witness	3.7 TF2	$7.29 PP	-
The Wolf Among Us	1.4 TF2	$2.83 PP	-
This Is the Police	0.4 TF2	$0.85 PP	-
This War of Mine: Complete Edition	0.7 TF2	$1.36 PP	-
Titan Quest Anniversary Edition	0.6 TF2	$1.22 PP	-
Torchlight II	0.6 TF2	$1.19 PP	-
Total Tank Simulator	0.4 TF2	$0.74 PP	-
Total War SHOGUN 2	3.6 TF2	$7.03 PP	-
Total War Shogun 2 Collection	1.8 TF2	$3.48 PP	-
Total War: ATTILA	2.1 TF2	$4.19 PP	-
Total War: Empire - Definitive Edition	1.8 TF2	$3.61 PP	-
Total War: Napoleon - Definitive Edition	1.6 TF2	$3.2 PP	-
Total War: Rome II - Emperor Edition	2.8 TF2	$5.54 PP	-
Total War™: WARHAMMER®	3.2 TF2	$6.25 PP	-
Totally Accurate Battle Simulator	2.9 TF2	$5.68 PP	-
Totally Reliable Delivery Service	0.7 TF2	$1.29 PP	-
Tour de France 2020	0.6 TF2	$1.15 PP	-
Tower Unite	5.2 TF2	$10.39 PP	-
Townscaper	0.6 TF2	$1.18 PP	-
Trailmakers Deluxe Edition	1.5 TF2	$2.93 PP	-
Train Simulator Classic	0.9 TF2	$1.7 PP	-
Tribes of Midgard	0.9 TF2	$1.8 PP	-
Tricky Towers	2.0 TF2	$3.98 PP	-
Trine 2: Complete Story	0.4 TF2	$0.85 PP	-
Trine 4: The Nightmare Prince	1.2 TF2	$2.42 PP	-
Trine Ultimate Collection	4.2 TF2	$8.22 PP	-
Tropico 5 – Complete Collection	0.8 TF2	$1.6 PP	-
Tropico 6 El-Prez Edition	2.6 TF2	$5.07 PP	-
Tropico 6	2.3 TF2	$4.55 PP	-
Turmoil	0.4 TF2	$0.73 PP	-
Turok	0.4 TF2	$0.76 PP	-
Two Point Hospital	2.2 TF2	$4.28 PP	-
Tyranny - Gold Edition	0.6 TF2	$1.22 PP	-
Ultimate Chicken Horse	1.8 TF2	$3.57 PP	-
Ultimate Fishing Simulator	0.5 TF2	$0.92 PP	-
Ultimate Marvel vs. Capcom 3	1.7 TF2	$3.4 PP	-
Ultra Street Fighter IV	0.6 TF2	$1.15 PP	-
Undertale	2.1 TF2	$4.07 PP	-
Universe Sandbox	4.6 TF2	$9.15 PP	-
Unrailed!	1.5 TF2	$3.0 PP	-
Until You Fall	0.7 TF2	$1.4 PP	-
VTOL VR	6.6 TF2	$13.01 PP	-
Vacation Simulator	5.2 TF2	$10.32 PP	-
Vagante	0.7 TF2	$1.41 PP	-
Valkyria Chronicles 4 Complete Edition	1.5 TF2	$2.93 PP	-
Vampyr	1.7 TF2	$3.27 PP	-
Verdun	0.4 TF2	$0.73 PP	-
Victor Vran	0.8 TF2	$1.62 PP	-
Visage	3.0 TF2	$5.87 PP	-
Viscera Cleanup Detail	1.9 TF2	$3.75 PP	-
Void Bastards	0.4 TF2	$0.84 PP	-
Volcanoids	1.4 TF2	$2.81 PP	-
Vox Machinae	3.4 TF2	$6.78 PP	-
Wargame European Escalation	0.4 TF2	$0.72 PP	-
Wargame: Red Dragon	5.3 TF2	$10.56 PP	-
Warhammer 40,000: Chaos Gate - Daemonhunters	~~2.2 TF2~~ Refer To My Other Thread	~~$4.28 PP~~ Refer To My Other Thread	Humble Choice (May 2023)
Warhammer 40,000: Dawn of War - Master Collection	1.6 TF2	$3.12 PP	-
Warhammer 40,000: Dawn of War II - Grand Master Collection	2.0 TF2	$3.93 PP	-
Warhammer 40,000: Dawn of War II: Retribution	0.8 TF2	$1.62 PP	-
Warhammer 40,000: Gladius - Relics of War	1.0 TF2	$1.95 PP	-
Warhammer 40,000: Gladius - Tyranids	1.6 TF2	$3.12 PP	-
Warhammer 40,000: Space Marine Collection	2.1 TF2	$4.07 PP	-
Warhammer 40,000: Space Marine	1.7 TF2	$3.29 PP	-
Warhammer: Chaosbane - Slayer Edition	1.1 TF2	$2.09 PP	-
Warhammer: End Times - Vermintide Collector's Edition	0.7 TF2	$1.38 PP	-
Warhammer: Vermintide 2 - Collector's Edition	1.5 TF2	$3.02 PP	-
Warhammer: Vermintide 2	0.8 TF2	$1.52 PP	-
Warhammer® 40,000: Dawn of War® II	0.6 TF2	$1.26 PP	-
Warhammer® 40,000™: Dawn of War® III	1.7 TF2	$3.33 PP	-
Warpips	0.8 TF2	$1.53 PP	-
Wasteland 3	1.3 TF2	$2.55 PP	-
We Happy Few	0.8 TF2	$1.62 PP	-
We Need to Go Deeper	1.7 TF2	$3.34 PP	-
We Were Here Too	0.9 TF2	$1.81 PP	-
White Day : a labyrinth named school	0.6 TF2	$1.25 PP	-
Who's Your Daddy	1.7 TF2	$3.31 PP	-
Wingspan	1.2 TF2	$2.37 PP	-
Winkeltje: The Little Shop	1.1 TF2	$2.18 PP	-
Witch It	3.3 TF2	$6.54 PP	-
Wizard of Legend	1.4 TF2	$2.86 PP	-
Worms W.M.D	1.1 TF2	$2.24 PP	-
Wurm Unlimited	0.7 TF2	$1.45 PP	-
X4: Foundations	5.8 TF2	$11.48 PP	-
X4: Split Vendetta	1.9 TF2	$3.8 PP	-
XCOM 2 Collection	1.4 TF2	$2.79 PP	-
XCOM: Enemy Unknown Complete Pack	0.8 TF2	$1.6 PP	-
XCOM: Ultimate Collection	1.2 TF2	$2.42 PP	-
Yakuza 0	2.0 TF2	$3.96 PP	-
Yakuza 3 Remastered	1.1 TF2	$2.24 PP	-
Yakuza 4 Remastered	2.0 TF2	$4.01 PP	-
Yakuza 5 Remastered	2.8 TF2	$5.48 PP	-
Yakuza Kiwami 2	3.2 TF2	$6.41 PP	-
Yakuza Kiwami	1.8 TF2	$3.61 PP	-
Yonder: The Cloud Catcher Chronicles	1.8 TF2	$3.58 PP	-
YouTubers Life	0.5 TF2	$1.06 PP	-
ZERO Sievert	4.9 TF2	$9.65 PP	-
Zenith MMO	2.2 TF2	$4.38 PP	-
Zero Caliber VR	4.2 TF2	$8.31 PP	-
Zombie Army 4: Dead War	1.9 TF2	$3.75 PP	-
Zombie Army Trilogy	0.5 TF2	$1.04 PP	-
biped	0.9 TF2	$1.79 PP	-
rFactor 2	3.2 TF2	$6.43 PP	-
while True: learn() Chief Technology Officer Edition	0.8 TF2	$1.61 PP	-

IGS Rep Page:
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2023.06.02 09:54 autobuzzfeedbot "She Was So Rude, My Family Is No Longer Allowed To Listen To Her Music": 34 Of The Absolute Best And Worst Celebrities People Have Ever Met

ABSOLUTE DREAM: "I’ve met Harry Styles several times, and he is so nice and considerate. He actually put off going out with his team just to sit and talk to my 15-year-old daughter and me. I’m sure he was exhausted, but he seemed to enjoy relaxing and chatting with us. My daughter will most likely live on that memory for years to come!"
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "Jennifer Aniston is a sweetheart. She seemed very genuine and kind. I met her in a restaurant bathroom of all places. We talked for so long, her friend had to come and find her."
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "I met Lorne Michaels when I worked at a 5-star restaurant. Everyone who worked with me knew I’d been a fan of SNL since I came out of the womb, so when I picked up the phone to make the reservation and spoke with his assistant, I told them I was Lorne's biggest fan. When he arrived with his wife and son (who went to a local boarding school), they were so kind, and he said, 'Oh, I heard you’re my biggest fan, and that’s amazing because I don’t have fans — the cast always has fans!' I almost died. I gave them my favorite table, which they were thrilled with, and when he got up to leave, he left me an envelope with a pretty sweet bonus tip inside. I wasn’t usually tipped doing my work, so it wasn’t necessary, but it was so thoughtful and appreciated. All three were true gems. You’d never know he was famous or rich at all."
TOTAL NIGHTMARE: "I met Roseanne Barr for work once. I went to shake her hand, and she looked me up and down and said, 'I don't shake hands,' then walked away."
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "I met Matthew Gray Gubler after he did a talk years ago at my college! Only the first 100 people who got tickets were supposed to be able to do a meet and greet. He said 'rules were made to be broken' and that he would stay and meet with everyone until they kicked him out. Not only was he incredibly sweet to me (literally introduced himself...so humble and posed for a goofy pic), but he seemed so genuinely kind to everyone there. Just amazing energy all around."
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "A friend and I visited my boyfriend while he was doing security at a jazz festival in Malibu. He told us Adam Sandler and his family had been there all day and tons of people took pictures with him. We ran back to the car to grab the digital camera, looked up, and saw Adam, his pregnant wife Jackie, and their toddler leaving. We went up to them. Adam was clearly done for the day, but his wife said, 'Honey, let me hold [toddler's name] and you can take a picture.' We handed him the camera and he took a selfie with us. Still have that picture on my fridge. Love the Sandman!"
TOTAL NIGHTMARE: "My little cousin played one of Rob Schneider's kids in 50 First Dates. Rob was stuck-up, never got to know the children or their parents, and always went straight to his dressing room. I'm an introvert, so I like my alone time to recharge, but apparently the vibes he was giving off were that he couldn't be bothered to care about anyone else there. Also, the little girl in the movie was apparently a spoiled brat who threw tantrums and made them have to redo so many takes. I can see why Rob maybe didn't want to play with her, but the other kids were great!"
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "My husband met Rihanna years ago and said she was super nice. He was working as a ground handler at an airport and was setting up something on the ramp for her private plane. She came out, approached him, asked him about his job, and they chatted for a few minutes. Not sure if she was killing time until the gate opened, or if she went out of her way to talk to him for the heck of it, but he had nothing but nice things to say about her."
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "I met Jerry Springer while bartending almost 20 years ago. He was thinking of getting back into politics and had a meeting in our private dining room on the second floor. It was happy hour and the bar was packed. Someone spotted him and started chanting, 'JERRY, JERRY,' while he was about to walk up the stairs. He then came to the bar, ordered a $2 beer, walked through the entire bar, shook hands, and took pictures. When he finished the loop, he set the full beer on the bar and handed me $40. Regardless of his show, I will always think of him as a class act."
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "My story is that I was actually horrible to a celebrity. In the '70s, I was obsessed with Donny and Marie. They were playing at our state fair that year. My dad tried to get tickets, but it was sold out. He took us to the fair anyway. A few times we could hear the music, which infuriated me at 7 years old. When we were leaving, my dad had to stop the car because there was a big crowd of people. As they cleared to let us through, two people popped their heads in the car window to apologize. It was Donny and Marie. I refused to believe it was really them, and I told Marie, 'You're not Marie. She's a lot prettier than you.' My family was horrified."
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "Hands down nicest celebrity I've ever met was Taylor Swift. I met her at a concert as part of her security at the Houston shows. She was polite and introduced herself to everyone. She was obviously very busy, but she seemed interested in what I had to say and signed an album cover for my son."
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "I have been lucky enough to meet Sir Ian McKellen twice: once after a performance where I also met Simon Callow and Patrick Stewart, and once during his tour of 80 shows for turning 80. Absolutely lovely man. He is my #1 dream dinner guest. I wish I was his friend."
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "I did a photo-op last year at my local con with Ewan McGregor and, even though it was so quick, he was super sweet. We shook hands, and he asked how my day was. He’s gorgeous in person!"
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "I met Matthew Lewis at a local con at his booth and he was lovely (and gorgeous in person). I told him how jealous my Harry Potter-obsessed sister (who was working that day) was going to be, and he told me to tell her he sent his regards! It totally made her day at work when I texted her about it after!"
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "I met Pink around 2000. She performed at a teen club I was at, and she was a sweetheart. After her performance, she even danced with us for a little bit."
TOTAL NIGHTMARE: "I’ve heard nothing but bad things from people who've met Bill Nye. One friend said he was at some children’s art show and made fun of the artwork in front of the youngsters. What a jerk."
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "When I was in college in Boston, I was making a late-night Taco Bell run. As I was walking in, this white limo pulled up in front. I went inside and placed my order, and a guy in a white jumpsuit with a white bandana tied around his head came in. There weren't that many people in the restaurant, but he stopped and signed autographs and was chatting everyone up when I left. It wasn't until a few years later that I realized that person was Steven Tyler. This was in the late '80s before Aerosmith had that string of hits."
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "The most genuine interaction I've ever had with a celeb was with Bert Kreischer. I saw a show (during which he mentioned his grandma was in the hospital). Then, he told the audience he would be going to the bar next door after the show if anyone wanted a picture. When he arrived at the bar, he waded through CROWDS of people and made sure everyone who wanted to was able to get a pic or a moment with him. I stayed at the bar for a drink until he was on his way out (by this time the crowd had dispersed). I called out as he passed, 'Hey, I didn't get a chance to say it before, but I hope your grandma does well.' He stopped, turned around, and had a very genuine conversation with me."
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "Jason Momoa was really fun to meet in person when I saw him at a Nine Inch Nails show. Really fun guy!"
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "Jennifer Lopez. I went to where they were filming Air last year (I live in LA) because I wanted to meet Ben Affleck. I met Matt Damon as he wrapped before he left. He was a SUPER nice guy. I waited for Ben as his Escalade pulled up, but I DID NOT expect JLO to get out. She got out right next to me. She was only with her driver and he didn’t tell me to move or anything, so when she got out, I was like ‘Jen! Can I get a picture?' and she said sure. We talked about Selena because I’m Latina and she’s super important to me, and the movie means so much to me. She was SOO nice and sweet. She didn’t give any vibes that I was annoying her or that she had to Go. We also spoke in Spanish. We took our picture and then she went inside to get Ben. When they got out, Ben was NOT HAPPY (I don’t blame him. He was acting and directing), so I just stepped aside."
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "In 2004, I met Tony Curtis. He exuded 'old Hollywood.' He made his way around the room, speaking to each person, and when he approached me, he extended his hand and held my hand through the entire conversation. He focused on our conversation as if there was no one else in the room. As we said goodbye (he was still holding my hand), he raised my hand to his lips and kissed it. He was dressed impeccably and was in fine form. I have had many celebrity encounters, but nothing rises to the level of Tony Curtis. Absolutely the best celebrity encounter I've ever had."
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "I met Sir Patrick Stewart at the Peabody Hotel in Orlando. We were both hanging out with friends in the lobby. He told stories, made lots of jokes with his friends, and included us in the conversation."
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "I went to college with Muhammad Ali's twin daughters. He came with them for move-in day, and they arrived in a chauffeured Rolls Royce. He was gracious and took as many pictures and signed as many autographs as people wanted. I even have a picture where he is pretending to punch me. I told him that I grew up down the street from the house he had in Chicago before he donated it to the Nation of Islam. He asked me if they were good neighbors and laughed when I told him not really."
TOTAL NIGHTMARE: "My sister met Katy Perry at a restaurant, but she was being rude to the bartender and all the employees who came over to help, so now my niece and nephew aren't allowed to listen to her music."
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "I met Tori Amos, and she was an absolute sweetie pie. She hugged me and told me she liked my shirt. We spoke briefly. I was starstruck, but it made a lasting impression on me."
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "I grew up in a tiny town (pop. 3,000), and every year for his twins' birthday dinner, Michael J. Fox would bring his whole family to the restaurant my mom worked at. She almost always ended up being their server and she said he (and his family) were the nicest people. They were unobtrusive, friendly, and excellent tippers."
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "James Earl Jones was super sweet. My father and I met him when I was young. His voice is deep, but sweet!"
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "I met Dennis Quaid, and he was the nicest guy ever. We chatted about dogs for a while, and he was more than happy to take a few pictures!"
TOTAL NIGHTMARE: "I helped host a book signing for Bobby Flay, and he's a jerk."
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "Every time Dave Matthews plays at the venue across the street from our bookstore, people want to be working in the cafe because he randomly shows up for coffee the morning of his concert and gives the people waiting on him free tickets."
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "Nicest celebrity I've ever met was Cole Sprouse. This was way before when he probably got sick of being on Riverdale and decided to just show his true colors. He took the photo of us together because I was shaking from nerves and excitement."
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "I was a bartender at the Troubadour for five years and have so many stories! Jeff Bridges was the first celeb I met. His band was playing. Before we opened, after his sound check, he made a point of coming down to us bartenders to introduce himself and thank us for helping out that night. SUCH A GEM!"
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "Jason Schwartzman came into the bar I worked in on a night that had a bunch of teenage bands playing and was super sweet to any of the kids who came up to him."
ABSOLUTE DREAM: "When I was young, I went to an Olivia Newton-John concert. I grew up watching Grease on repeat and had always loved her. At the concert, me and another young girl were invited on stage to give her flowers and introduce ourselves. On stage, l asked to get her autograph and she told me she would after the show. Post-concert, I waited with my family to get an autograph and she invited me and my dad into her fitting room and no one else. Once back there, I was so starstruck and amazed that she remembered my name! She was so kind and took pictures with me and my dad, signed a photo, gave me the set list, and wrapped it up by giving me a hug and kiss on the cheek. She spent probably an hour with us just hanging out in her room and chatting. To this day, it's one of my most cherished memories."

Link to article

submitted by autobuzzfeedbot to buzzfeedbot [link] [comments]

2023.06.02 07:18 ArmyofSpies Cardano Rumor Rundown June 02, 2023

Hey Everyone!
Let’s go….
Newly Covered Today:

Interesting news about the currency in one of Cardano’s biggest metaverse projects. https://twitter.com/Pavia_io/status/1664240389610704896
Messari has released an article on operational decentralization in proof-of-stake crypto. https://messari.io/report/evaluating-validator-decentralization-geographic-and-infrastructure-distribution-in-proof-of-stake-networks
The Bureau of Labor Statistics has MASSIVELY revised their figures on Q4 of 2022. No surprise, the numbers were much worse than they told us. https://twitter.com/FrogNews/status/1664253845399130113
Looks like DAOs are getting a little hesitant about fee switches due to possible legal/tax implications. https://twitter.com/FrogNews/status/1664253845399130113
We even have Arctic block production. https://twitter.com/Laponia_pool/status/1664226409466740737
Questions are being raised regarding the blockspace consumption of dApps still on Plutus v1. https://twitter.com/matiwinnetou/status/1664385383122051073

Previously covered, but still interesting:

IOG wants you to know about the advantages of native tokens on Cardano. https://twitter.com/InputOutputHK/status/1654077799697727488
Cardano Movies! https://twitter.com/coc_space/status/1653862307439542275
We really need to primary some members of the U.S. Congress. https://twitter.com/BradSherman/status/1653928972026093569
Wow! Not surprised at what’s being said here back in November. Just surprised it’s being said publicly. https://twitter.com/balajis/status/1654239504574853120
Here’s the longer video of that FDIC meeting for context. http://fdic.windrosemedia.com/index.php?category=Systemic+Resolution+Advisory+Committee
Looks like Western Alliance is up next. https://twitter.com/WatcherGuru/status/1654133106037739522
The weekly development update from IOG is out. https://twitter.com/InputOutputHK/status/1655248376194105347
It’s not hard to make a meme coin on Cardano. https://twitter.com/nmkr_io/status/1654923697885532160
Still a crazy amount of mark-to-market losses that haven’t been absorbed by the system. https://twitter.com/BillyM2k/status/1655207860572422144
Warren Buffet gives a not too comforting answer to a question about the status of the dollar: “America…we’ve got everything going for us…but…you can’t print money indefinitely as debt.” https://twitter.com/GRDectestatus/1655203348033810439
…and then everyone remembered what fee markets look like in busy times. https://twitter.com/CryptoStylesUSA/status/1654711146673479680
…same for Bitcoin. https://twitter.com/MatthewPlomin/status/1655320093084057600
Cardano hit 94% load. https://twitter.com/SebastienGllmt/status/1655624561789112321
he MEV game is getting out of control over on Cardano’s biggest competitor chain. Convince me this shouldn’t just be called “theft” or “fraud”. https://twitter.com/0xNox_eth/status/1655615309695586306
Cardano Native Assets are vastly superior to BRC20 and ERC20 tokens. https://twitter.com/TheOCcryptobro/status/1655673557710692352
Rumor: SEC is going to make a move against Binance. Will the DOJ also? https://twitter.com/AP_Abacus/status/1655546961968103425
At the end of Q3 of last year, 722 banks reported unrealized losses greater than 50% of capital. https://www.federalreserve.gov/supervisionreg/files/board-briefing-on-impact-of-rising-interest-rates-and-supervisory-approach-20230214.pdf
Wyoming is inching closer to a state stablecoin. IOG’s significant presence there may turn out to be a huge advantage. https://cowboystatedaily.com/2023/05/09/wyoming-stable-token-a-multibillion-dollar-opportunity-as-officials-wrestle-with-how-to-make-it-happen/
Paypal disclosed almost $1 billion in customer crypto in its latest 10-Q. https://blockworks.co/news/paypal-discloses-1b-crypto
MiCA is shifting the balance of crypto investment to Europe. https://twitter.com/paddi_hansen/status/1655883224726241281
Today (May 10) will be a joint hearing of the Agriculture and Financial Services Committees on Crypto. The CLO of Kraken will testify. https://financialservices.house.gov/
This is a legit point about centralized L2s: the best ones are called Coinbase, Kraken, and Binance. https://twitter.com/el33th4xostatus/1655845787593502720
There’s already a new version of Lace Wallet out. https://twitter.com/lace_io/status/1656347737355608066
A nice thread on the many strengths of Cardano. https://twitter.com/TobiasIlskov/status/1656388178369212416
Remember, lobster traps are a thing. https://twitter.com/TheCardanoTimes/status/1656064744225120257
Today (May 11 at 1pm EST) there will be a Messari Cardano Analyst call with Charles & Frederik. https://twitter.com/StakeWithPride/status/1656272372452954112
I think we all love it when they start making our case for us. https://twitter.com/WatcherGuru/status/1656379837823561730
Ethereum is lamenting many of its poor design choices that Cardano already fixed. https://twitter.com/moo9000/status/1656215016016683008
Drunkenmiller says this is the broadest asset bubble he’s ever even studied let alone seen firsthand and we’ve only had a few soft landings since 1950. https://twitter.com/Stephen_Geigestatus/1656416819312222219
Live footage of meme coin investors accepting their ROI. https://twitter.com/KaylerSmithTV/status/1656130092966264834
Here’s the Messari call from today with both Fred & Chaz. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ouUhWwF74MM
People really seem to be enjoying the CF’s Blockchain Education Alpha Program. https://twitter.com/andreassosilo/status/1644263843743293451
The US Chamber of Commerce brief in the Coinbase case is calling out the SEC for acting “unlawfully”. https://twitter.com/MetaLawMan/status/1656737447756038177
About that whole self-custody thing we’ve discussed… https://twitter.com/BitcoinMagazine/status/1656706653801136132
The SPO poll on K and minFee starts today (May 15)! You should redelegate if your stake pool doesn’t vote the way you would vote! https://cardanofoundation.org/en/news/entering-voltaire-poll-experiment-live-on-mainnet/
There are also a series of forum topics for discussion of the various options in the Cardano.org forums. https://twitter.com/Lovecoach_nic/status/1657700010148896770
Coinbase spotlights Empowa! May be the first time they’ve ever given such a spotlight to a Cardano project. Tides are turning. https://twitter.com/coinbase/status/1657081243518005254
Wow. Leaked “Key Messages” document for the joint committee meeting in the US House last week. Best part: they basically complain about separation of powers in point three. https://twitter.com/EleanorTerrett/status/1656362002577772544
Dr. Vanishree Rao on ZK-Rollups. https://twitter.com/InputOutputHK/status/1657778843854274560
Here’s a new Decentralized Identity article from IOG. https://iohk.io/en/blog/posts/2023/05/11/atala-prism-pioneering-digital-identity-with-decentralized-solutions/
There are reasons we’re in a hard capped cryptocurrency like Cardano. https://www.cnn.com/2023/05/15/business/argentina-interest-rates-inflation/index.html
What is a dRep? This video is for you. There will be additional categories of default dReps that vote abstain or no confidence on every vote. https://twitter.com/InputOutputHK/status/1658034085401337857
The US Dept. of Justice is officially saying they are targeting exchanges. Great. Great. https://www.ft.com/content/5aac457e-cc80-44ae-ac40-9b51d9b601a3
Wow! Ledger just made what is possibly the greatest PR blunder in the history of crypto. Trezor will be poppin’ bottles tonight. https://twitter.com/Ledgestatus/1658458714771169282
People are claiming that the hysteria is a misunderstanding of cryptography. But, that’s not what’s going on here if Ledger plus one of the other two shard custodians can reconstruct your private key without having to use your private key. https://twitter.com/nimuepool/status/1658517533836574720
The Ledger Recover FAQ seems to support this understanding as it suggests you use a brand new device for recovery. https://support.ledger.com/hc/en-us/articles/9579368109597
Wow. Unfortunate timing for this. https://twitter.com/Ledgestatus/1658095051375800321
Ken Kodama will be doing a Japanese language interview on CardanoSpot on May 18. https://twitter.com/Emurgo_Ken/status/1658838077136162828
The stake pool operator poll on network parameters of K and minPoolCost is live. See the results here. The re-delegation phase will begin on May 25th. https://adastat.net/polls/96861fe7da8d45ba5db95071ed3889ed1412929f33610636c072a4b5ab550211
Cornucopias dropped some new in-game footage. As expected, Solace is beautiful. https://youtu.be/j5iwNsQVMDQ?t=1846
Wow….the Ledger shards are encrypted with “a master key that is contained in all devices”. Wut? https://twitter.com/P3b7_/status/1658809445965606913
Sadly, the Ledger CEO seemed to be denying exactly the above just a day ago. https://twitter.com/_pgauthiestatus/1658508082941403144
Here’s why 340 ADA minPoolCost promotes multi-pools. https://twitter.com/ArmySpies/status/1659387255537176581
Numbers are emerging on the benefits of K=1000 over K=500. https://twitter.com/StakeWithPride/status/1659398551917727744
Here’s the latest on the Stake Pool Operator poll. https://adastat.net/polls/96861fe7da8d45ba5db95071ed3889ed1412929f33610636c072a4b5ab550211
Rep. Tom Emmer is trying to help crypto by cutting crypto assets out of the definition of a “security”. He creates a new non-security asset category called “investment contract asset”. https://twitter.com/GOPMajorityWhip/status/1659291641281146886
Prof. Wadler (co-inventor of Cardano’s Plutus) has been elected a Fellow of the Royal Society joining the likes of Einstein, Darwin, Hawking, and Isaac Newton. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PLOm-dWje-M
Huge amount of voting for economic self-interest by multi-poolers in the SPO poll. Earlier today (May 21), 84.73% by stake of the vote for K=500, Min Cost 340 ₳ was multi-poolers. Only 15.6% of the vote for K=1000, Min Cost 170 ₳ was multi-poolers. https://adastat.net/polls/96861fe7da8d45ba5db95071ed3889ed1412929f33610636c072a4b5ab550211
Large pools also voted heavily for economic self-interest with the K parameter. 70.02% by stake of the vote for K=500, Min Cost 170 ₳ was pools with delegation over 35 million. Only 30.57% of the vote for K=1000, Min Cost 170 ₳ was pools over 35 million. https://adastat.net/polls/96861fe7da8d45ba5db95071ed3889ed1412929f33610636c072a4b5ab550211
Apparently Cardano has its own wiki now! Probably better given our previous treatment by the big wiki group. https://twitter.com/StakeWithPride/status/1660383700243329024
Rep. Tom Emmer is getting some reactions on the bill he sponsored with Rep. Soto. https://twitter.com/GOPMajorityWhip/status/1660329932495486977
You’re really gonna hold up a debt ceiling deal because you hate crypto so bad? https://twitter.com/gaborgurbacs/status/1660248530135515138
Looks like a few big multi-poolers have voted in the poll since yesterday. Pretty easy to predict what they didn’t vote for. https://adastat.net/polls/96861fe7da8d45ba5db95071ed3889ed1412929f33610636c072a4b5ab550211
Reports coming in that DCG has defaulted on the payment owed to Genesis. https://twitter.com/AP_Abacus/status/1660671386388504577
Ledger Recover would allow governments to confiscate crypto assets by subpoena? Called “not a real concern in the end.” Really? https://twitter.com/TheBTCTherapist/status/1660677064700178436
Frederik Gregaard on DeFi and regulation. https://twitter.com/F_Gregaard/status/1660655806709211137
Don’t Forget, the May Cardano 360 will be on May 25th. https://twitter.com/InputOutputHK/status/1660621805017608194
Here’s the daily check-in on the status of the SPO Poll. We have surpassed 590 pools voting (as of May 23). https://adastat.net/polls/96861fe7da8d45ba5db95071ed3889ed1412929f33610636c072a4b5ab550211
The Securities and Futures Commission of Hong Kong has decided to get our hopes up with a proposed regulatory framework for crypto exchanges that could mean more trading for coins like Cardano. https://apps.sfc.hk/edistributionWeb/gateway/EN/news-and-announcements/news/doc?refNo=23PR53
Here’s an IOG thread on the latest out of Atala Prism and Self-Sovereign Identity. https://twitter.com/InputOutputHK/status/1660904360925188097
Here’s an IOG article on Cardano native tokens. https://twitter.com/InputOutputHK/status/1660975383997448193
The difference in decentralization between Cardano and Bitcoin is still…laughable. https://twitter.com/StakeWithPride/status/1660979639907500033
Ledger is finally caving (a little) to the backlash. It’s reported that they will focus on open sourcing parts of their code and only release the “Recover” firmware after that open sourcing is finished. https://twitter.com/NFTherdestatus/1661026174779420672
Looks like the Hong Kong announcement yesterday might have been a hint of what’s coming. https://twitter.com/cz_binance/status/1661391542504902664
The Cardano Layerverse is coming to life. https://twitter.com/TobiasIlskov/status/1660697833115385856
Wow! Incredible! Thank you for voting in favor of decentralization, 1PCT! https://twitter.com/StakeWithPride/status/1661460222203002880
Federal Reserve report debunks claim that crypto is not useful to people in the US. https://twitter.com/SebVentures/status/1661063483369177108
The SPO phase of the poll is over. Nearly 800 pools voted. Now it’s your turn to see how your pool voted and re-delegate if you think they voted against decentralization and for their own pocketbook. https://adastat.net/polls/96861fe7da8d45ba5db95071ed3889ed1412929f33610636c072a4b5ab550211
The May Cardano 360 is out! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7_bCa_xCoxA
Charles dropped an update today. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KfL2U2hAGWw
Sen. Cynthia Lummis declares her opposition to the 30% tax on bitcoin mining. https://twitter.com/SenLummis/status/1661803569341759495
Lots of volume being transacted on Cardano recently! https://twitter.com/cwpaulm/status/1662929296329981952
Recent subpoenas to the Python Package Index don’t bode well for those hoping to store seed phrases with third-party custodians. https://twitter.com/_jonasschnelli_/status/1662531840606093312
Transaction volume is looking very interesting right now. https://messari.io/charts/cardano/txn-vol
JPG Store has now launched Android and IOS apps. https://twitter.com/jpgstoreNFT/status/1663281982262919170
It’s true. Cardano is straight killing it on the security leg of the trilemma.https://twitter.com/cardano_whale/status/1662987243655684096
Just checked. Yep. The centralization in ETH is still staggering. https://twitter.com/StakeWithPride/status/1663222056870350848
There’s a documentary about a 2022 Plutus hackathon in Argentina. https://twitter.com/LarsBrunjes/status/1663111319732535297
Pavia is testing NFT gating. This could get very interesting. https://twitter.com/Pavia_io/status/1663153213988823040
Marlowe is on mainnet! You can now code Cardano smart contracts in javascript or blockly via Marlowe! This is an amazing leap forward. https://twitter.com/marlowe_io/status/1663480828016435200
Don’t forget! We are still in the re-delegation phase of the CF Poll. See how your stake pool voted! If they were voting for their pocketbook instead of decentralization, you should re-delegate! https://twitter.com/Cardano_CF/status/1663564854572244994
Wow! Cardano projects are doing big things these days! https://twitter.com/CardanoCrocClub/status/1663468916843114498
The CCP has dropped a white paper on how it will develop Web 3 including NFTs and the metaverse. https://twitter.com/milestones_nft/status/1663458500922712064
Lace is now open source! https://twitter.com/IOHK_Charles/status/1663953642045714433
Binance is back and apparently they don’t care if someone had that ticker first. https://twitter.com/pool_pm/status/1663809731603906560
Summon is now allowing for multichain swaps of ADA & ERG. https://twitter.com/N8iveToEarth/status/1664038846563225600
Charles did a Twitter Space with World Mobile. https://twitter.com/IOHK_Charles/status/1663984094252810283
Here’s an easy infographic on CIP-1694 Voltaire governance from IOG. https://twitter.com/Hornan7/status/1664007623799185409
Apparently, Cardano sushi is a thing! https://twitter.com/Allison_Fromm/status/1663841386074976257
This kind of sums up the problems with central bank behavior over the last 20 years. https://twitter.com/JeffWenigestatus/1664012650781585409

~Army of Spies

submitted by ArmyofSpies to cardano [link] [comments]

2023.06.02 04:45 Gameran Dexter Flux Presents: Sound-Off! - Part Two

Babaganoush: The following contest is scheduled for one fall…
Crowd: One fall!
And is for… the WiR Television Championship! Already in the ring, the challenger, weighing in at 235 pounds, The Suuuuuuperstar!
Banaganoush: And Already in the ring, the champion, “Guaranteed, Gabe Garvin!”
Ding Ding Ding!
Mann: And the bell rings here, and we are back underway at Sound Off! Presented by Dexter Flux.
The Superstar does a little spin as he approaches Gabe Garvin and the two back off from each other. The two wrestlers stare down a moment, before launching at each other with a collar and elbow tie-up. The Superstar gains the upper hand and locks Garvin in a headlock. Garvin, in a headlock, however, gets pushed into the ropes, where he gets pushed away. Garvin looks for a back body drop as The Superstar bounces off the ropes, but eats a boot for his trouble. Garvin tries to regain control by lifting Superstar on his shoulders, Superstar shifts back to the ground, but gets lifted and dropped on his chest! The Superstar is forced to roll out of the ring to recover.
Crowd: [Apathetic Silence]
Garvin goes under the bottom rope and gets quickly caught with a kick to the stomach. The Superstar throws Garvin into the barricade and begins to hammer away.
Woodbridge: And The Superstar turning things around here!
Mann: And folks, we’ll be back after these messages from our sponsors!
Woodbridge: Why are we going to commercial, the match just st-
The following advertisement plays
We fade back into the action with a crowd shot, which stays longer than comfortable on a shot of 40 apathetic fans. As it cuts back to the ring, we see Gabe Garvin deliver a vertical suplex to The Superstar, before going to a pin that convinces nobody of its success.
Mann: And we are back here at Sound Off! Garvin has regained control here!
The Superstar rolls to the corner and forces a momentary break. As the ref tries to restore order, The Superstar throws an overhand shot at Garvin- who blocks it and responds in kind, backing the Superstar back into the corner, and whipping him across the ring. As Superstar bounces off with a thud, Garvin hits the ropes beside him and hits a bulldog. Garvin goes for a cover, which gets a…
ONE
TWO
Kickout!
The Superstar flops into the corner once more, and Garvin is halted from pulling him away by the official. As The Superstar exits the corner, Garvin is right back on top of him, whips him off the ropes, and delivers a back body drop! The Superstar rolls out of the ring once more, but Garvin follows in pursuit. Garvin charges in, but gets caught with a drop-toe hold, and crashes into the announce table.
Mann: Watch out!
Woodbridge: Garvin seeking to capitalize on his newfound momentum here…
Crowd: [Does not care]
The Superstar throws Garvin back into the squared circle, and delivers a club to the back of his head, Followed by stomps and a knee drop. Superstar waits for Garvin to try and get back up, before stomping again, followed by a punch. As Garvin powers back to his feet, The Superstar looks to grab him, but Garvin pulls him in for a belly-to-belly suplex! Superstar shuffles into the corner, followed by Garvin, who eats a boot for his trouble before The Superstar storms out with a lariat. The Superstar looks for a chin lock, but Garvin is too oily, and he slips free. Superstar retaliates for this oily transgression with a fist and applies a headlock to a cornered Garvin.
Mann: And The Superstar getting some offense here, Garvin is in trouble! Can our TV champion save the match?
The Superstar works the headlock in the corner until the ref forces a break, at which juncture The Superstar turns around and throws his fists at Garvin. Following this, The Superstar lifts Garvin to his feet and goes for a whip, but as Garvin hits the other turnbuckle, he lifts his left foot to kick an incoming Superstar! As Garvin looks to capitalize, The Superstar grabs the leg that kicked him and takes Garvin down to the mat. Superstar drops an elbow on Garvin’s knee, and a second elbow, before looking for a knee twist, which Garvin pushes away from.
Mann: And Garvin fends off the Superstar’s onslaught! What a heroic effort by our TV Champion!
Crowd: [awkward silence]
Garvin sells his injured knee for a moment, before using it to pull a charging Superstar down with a drop-toe hold, flip Superstar over, and try to apply a submission, but this time, The Superstar pushes Garvin away! The Superstar delivers an elbow to a staggered Garvin, before delivering a Russian leg sweep, and going for a cover.
ONE
TWO
Kickout!
The Superstar is in disbelief that his leg sweep failed to get the victory, and he pulls Superstar by the arm, before kicking his downed body in the rib. Garvin throws himself off the ground to throw a punch at Superstar’s gut, but as he gets up, he is once again cut off by a clothesline, and a pin attempt.
ONE
TWO
Kickout.
Crowd: [Apathetic, a smattering of boos, and a single portly fan in a Shooting Association shirt attempting to start a “boring” chant]
Woodbridge: The Superstar is unable to get the best of Garvin despite some strong offense here, and the longer this goes on, the more I like the TV Champion’s chances in this match.
Mann: And all the Garvinites in the crowd cheering for their hero to make a comeback!!
Crowd shot of bored audience quickly pans back to the ring, where The Superstar is applying an arm wringer
Mann: And this match of course is presented by our sponsors, over at Mann Corporation!
The Superstar transitions to a half camel clutch, still clutching the arm of Garvin
Mann: Mann Corporation is committed to providing high-quality products to all of our loyal customers! Use code “WiR” at checkout for 3.5% off select items at MannCoStore.com!
The Superstar has transitioned into a standing headlock
Mann: If you buy within the next 7 minutes, all Gabe Garvin merchandise is 10% off! Act fast! And now, back to the action!
Garvin powers out of the headlock and whips The Superstar into a corner. He charges in, and misses, as The Superstar moves out of the way, and attempts to lock in another arm wringer. Garvin tries to power out but fails, and the hold is applied.
Superstar: ASK HIM!
Garvin does not submit, and once again tries to lift himself upwards. Superstar sees this, and shifts so that he is lying down on the back of Garvin, still applying the arm wringer. Garvin winces in agony and reaches for the rope with his free hand. Unable to reach them, Garvin Begins to power himself upwards for the third time, and this one is successful, as he slowly works his way up to his feet, Superstar now trapped in the air in a fireman’s carry. The Superstar pushes himself off as Garvin gets to his feet, and tries to throw a punch. Trying to reclaim the momentum, The Superstar goes for an Irish whip, and looks for a dropkick as Garvin returns, but to no avail! Garvin holds onto the rope, and The Superstar crashes back to the ground.
Mann: And Garvin escaping the hold! Superstar is dazed!
Woodbridge: And this could be the opening the TV Champion needs to regain control of this match! The Superstar is in trouble, as Gabe is Garving up!
Mann: It’s Garvin’ time!
Garvin bounds off the ropes and leaps for a flying clothesline!
Mann: What a maneuver!
Garvin hits the ropes again, and nails a staggered Superstar with another flying clothesline! The Superstar writhes in agony as he tries to pull himself back to a standing base, where Garvin is waiting for him. Garvin bounces off the ropes, and nails a rising Superstar with a shoulder block.
Mann: Vintage Garvin! And he has the upper hand! The fans here on their feet!
Crowd: [Silent, sitting down]
Garvin ascends to the second rope, and as a wounded Superstar ascends once more, he leaps for a double ax handle, but nobody is home! The Superstar looks to capitalize with a DDT, but it gets blocked by Garvin, who fights out, throws Superstar against the ropes, and hits another shoulder block. With The Superstar down, Garvin looks at the crowd, backs against the ropes, and hits a fist drop!
One guy in the crowd Crowd: YEEEAAAH WE FUCKIN LOVE THE FIST DROP YEEEEAAHHH
Crowd: WOOO!! GAR-VIN! GAR-VIN!
Woodbridge: And the people exploding for Garvin’s fist drop! (?)
Garvin looks almost surprised at the suddenly raucous crowd, and motions for his finishing maneuver! As soon as he indicates he isn’t going for another fist drop, the crowd dies and goes back to their silence. Superstar stumbles to his feet, gets his arm trapped, and’s he’s lifted into the air, before being slammed down with a Pump Handle Slam! Garvin goes into the cover…
ONE
TWO
THREE!
DING DING DING!!
Mann: And Gabe Garvin retains!
Woodbridge: His victory was all but Garunteed
Babaganouh: And here is your winner, at a time of Seven minutes and Forty-Five seconds… Garunteed Gaaaaaabeeeeee Gaaaaarviiiin!!
Crowd [Scant Murmors]
Mann: And tonight we have seen a truly memorable title defense from our heroic TV Champion, Gabe Garvin. And to watch all of Garvin’s matches from the comfort of your home, go to WWW dot Wrestle Is Reddit dot com slash Garvin for all the latest updates! And a special thanks to our sponsor for this show, JDate!
The monitor shows Dexter Flux on screen, who immediately gets a crowd pop 10x louder than anything of the past 7:45
Crowd: FLUX! FLUX! FLUX! WE LOVE FLUX!
Flux: I'm not… I'm not Jewish, but that's really not what JDate is about. It's about like… dating. JDate is what JDate is. That's what it is. I'm Dexter Flux. I'm the President of the United States. Thank you for your service.
The monitor cuts back to the crowd going bananas for Flux. A guy is screaming and beating the shit out of the old woman sitting next to him because he loves Dexter Flux so much.
Mann: And you too can be just like these happy people if you buy a Gabe Garvin T-Shirt, now 4% off at select TJ Maxx stores near you!
Garvin holds up his title on the apron while the crowd cheer for Flux, and a photographer gets a photo of the victorious champion in front of a cheering crowd. As Garvin gets down from Bret’s rope, the camera cuts to…
Something else. It's shot differently, worse cameras that pan around instead of cut. No commentary. No acknowledgment. It's a documentary shoved in the middle of a wrestling show.
We're in a church basement, or a community gym, or something like that, with hardwood floors and dim, white light pouring in through windows near the top of the room. There's a table next to the door with a coffee machine and paper cups and a door to the outside propped open, so people can step out to smoke. A voice speaks up.
Teddy (O.S.): I don't think I've ever been a good person.
We move to the middle of the room. There's a circle of people sitting in chairs, looking at one whose face is obscured but whose voice most WiR diehards recognize. The circle's watching him carefully, skeptically. A couple of them glance at the camera as it moves by, which seems like an outsider - a perverse interloper. Some of them are recognizable, heels from all over the wrestling scene. Most of them seem miserable to be here, unrepentant. One figure, dressed up, seems more warm in his posture, but we don't see his face either.
Teddy (O.S.): I don't think I've ever really tried, I mean. I've been a good guy, for a little bit. Here and there. But I wasn't who I was. I was somebody trying to get cheered, trying to make sure they loved me. And when they didn't, I just… I snapped.
Finally, we see him, the object of their attentions. He is sitting in a chair, dressed down in a t-shirt, paper cup of coffee by his feet. Teddy Coronado. There's no charisma to the way he speaks. He was a preacher once, electrifying, manic, an embodiment of television airwaves. Now, he's mumbling. The camera zooms in on his face, as he tried to put together the next few words, shaking his head. The words seem ridiculous to say and maybe that's because they're wrestling words and this man - sitting here, in the basement - does not seem to be a wrestler.
Teddy: I'm Teddy Coronado and… Sorry. I'm Teddy and I'm a heel.
Others (all together): Hi, Teddy.
He cringes at them.
Teddy: I've been…
He stops, sucking on his tongue. It's the noise of a crowd, again.
Teddy: I'm sorry, I don't think I can do this.
Spence (O.S.): It's alright.
The camera pans over to a much more shocking face, Spence Cooper, dressed like a normal person, with a buttoned-up v-neck, instead of his usual attire as one half of the Golden State Stars, wearing mesh shirts and whatever nonsense is left. The rest of the group turns to him with a sort of reverence that seems wholly unfitting for him.
Spence: This is hard stuff, Teddy, alright - this is hard stuff, everybody. I mean, when I was a member of the Golden State Stars-
Chaz (O.S): GOLDEN! STATE! ST-
Spence: Chaz.
We whip pan to Chaz Levine, who is also there. He is dressed less like a normal person.
Chaz: Sorry, bro, still working on it.
Spence: We all have hiccups, is what I was saying. This is hard work. That's why not everybody does it. But it's good work. You've been here for a long time, right?
He's staring at the ground as he said it, as if ashamed.
Teddy: Six months.
Spence: Six months and it's still hard. That should show to everyone else here that even the best of us You can do it, Teddy. You can say it.
Teddy takes a breath, tries to put it together. After a few seconds, he looks back up. And it's almost there. That spark, that fire in his eyes.
Teddy: I've… been thinking about things, recently. I've been thinking about my time as a wrestler. I've done a lot of things in this business - and I'm not bragging about that, but I'm saying it because I need to say it. I was the best guy on the mic for a long time. I was good in the ring, too. I beat some of the best people in that company and sometimes I even did it clean.
There's a chuckle at that, in the room, and he gives a rueful smile, for a second, looking back on everything. Then it fades. So does the light in his eyes. Teddy looks at his feet, again, but the rest of them are listening, now. Most of them hate this place, but they listen
Teddy: I lied, I cheated, I stole. I used every dirty fucking trick in the book - you can look. My granddad wrote it. I used weapons. I hired my own ref. I made my own matches. I attacked people from behind the scenes. I once wrestled with a cardboard cut-out, so I could move its torn-off foot under the bottom rope to get a break.
He's looking up, now, and the fire isn't in his eyes, but it's in his words.
Teddy: I gave up everything for that title, for those accolades, for those year-end awards, for my hand raised up at the end of the night. I've got a claim to being the best champion in that company's history. I went into this business looking for all of that. I said to myself that I'd be different than my family, from my great-grandfather, from my grandfather, from my…
He stops. He leaves the final word unsaid.
Teddy: But that's not what I'm saying. I had the chance to change my name. I had a shitty start, but I had my own agency. What I did was my own. And by the end, I gave up that. I gave up my decency, my integrity, my dedication to this art, I gave up everything I have - and I don't have anything to show for it.
There's a crippling silence, for a few moments, the kind of silence you only notice when everything felt so loud before it.
Teddy: I don't talk to any of the roster I was a part of. My name doesn't get mentioned in promos. The fans - the fans that used to jeer my name, who serenaded me after I was forced out of that company - they don't think about me. I gave up everything I ever had and I don't…
He takes a shallow breath, emotional, seeming to hold back tears as he rubs his temples. A man offers him a tissue box but he waves it aside. For as much pride as he has managed to put aside, he can't allow himself to cry in front of the only people he's ever been genuine to.
Teddy: I got an offer, recently. You guys know about it.
Teddy half-heartedly gestures at the camera and a couple of them glance back at it. Chaz, on the edge of frame, flexes a little bit when reminded a camera is watching him.
Teddy: I got an offer to come back to WiR. They're coming back, apparently, again. They've offered me a couple times, over the years, and I almost took it. I even said I would, once, before. Back when I still had the bookstore. And then I started training and I became what I was, again, and I gave up the bookstore, and I was so fucked up I couldn't even make it to the show, because I realized, in that ring…
He pauses and they're all listening. He hates that, because he knows why they're listening and why he's talking. Because the fire, suddenly, is there. It's there in his eyes. It's there in his voice. It's there in the way he sits in that chair, the knotting his hands do as he talks, but most of all it's there in the crowd, listening with rapt attention.
Teddy: There's the Teddy Coronado with the money, with the television show, with the betrayal and the burials, even the Teddy who dressed up like a dentist and said he hated bullies. They say I've been a lot of people, had a lot of gimmicks, but the trick is they're all the same one. They're all somebody who needs to have the whole world know that they're the best. But they're all masks. Facades. And when I got into that ring, lit by halogen lights, no one in the audience, no one facing me in that ring, no one there but me, I realized the truth.
The fire in his voice has burned away and, now, he speaks in ashes: harsh, more serious than he's ever been, and more painful. He is being true.
Teddy: I don't know what's beneath those masks. I don't. A part of me is terrified that there isn't anything there. That the shit I've done, to other people, to the industry as a whole, that's who I am. I've tried to find out who it is, out here. I tried to open a bookstore, I tried to become a trainer, I tried to get as far away from that ring as possible.
He stops, again. The crowd is fully drawn in, now, and a furrowed brow of concern on Spence's face breaks through the mask of supportiveness.
Teddy: But, when I got that email, that offer… I think I realized that there's only one way for me to figure that out-
Spence: Teddy…
Teddy turns his eyes to Spence, but there's a weariness to his eyes. He's already made up his mind. He made it up before he even entered this room, before he even entered the cameras in, before Spence even says the thing he knows he's about to say.
Spence: Teddy, I know what you're about to say. And I want to tell you in front of the group, because I know you don't want there to be secrets here. I've been lured that way. We all have, but you have to know that there is a risk to what you're about to say. Some people can recover, can re-enter that ring, Teddy, but some people can't.
There is a warmth in Spence's eyes that make you realize that this is not the same man that was a Golden State Star. Not anymore. But he knows that he can't change his mind.
Spence: This is in your hands, Teddy. It always is.
Teddy sits there, genuinely considering the words and then he smiles. Knows how absurd what he's about to say is. And then he speaks, just as resolute as before. No. More so.
Teddy: I know. But I hear it in me. I hear the roar of the crowd, with me or against me. I hear my opponent's music hit. I hear the bending of the mat, the straining of the ropes, the fight. I know that who I was in there was a monster. But I know that, if there's something of me left, beneath all of this, it's in there.
He stands up.
Teddy: This is what I'm choosing to do, Spence. I'm sorry.
Teddy walks out of the circle, across the hardwood floor, and steps out the door. The camera doesn't follow.
Javier (O.S.): Ladies and gentlemen, the Independent Champion, Diiiiiiiiick Dover!
We cut back to Knott's Berry Farm, where the crowd reacts in a mixed fashion to the announcement of Dick Dover. Prisoner of Society hits, and Dick Dover walks through the curtain with the Independent Championship over his shoulder.
Mann: The Independent Champion enters the building, he says he has an announcement to make.
Woodbridge: That’s right, Shay. We don’t know what it’s going to be, but when Dover walked into the venue this afternoon, he insisted on addressing the crowd.
Dover grabs a mic from Maurice Chondon ringside, then walks up the stairs, wipes his feet on the apron, and enters the ring. He then turns to face the crowd.
Dover: I know you all have a lot of thoughts about me, but let’s get one thing clear right now. There’s been a lot of time gone by since you last saw me. But don’t get me wrong, one thing wouldn’t have changed no matter how long we’ve been apart. I am still your Independent Champion.
Crowd: mix of boos and applause
Dover: But there have been changes. Changes in the world and changes with myself, and it’s time for me to share with you all some changes I’ve made. When WiR went on hiatus i-
Nitroglycerin hits as Joey McCarty storms out from behind the curtain holding a mic.
Crowd: Boooooooooo
McCarty: No no no no no no fuck this shit. I know what this is. I’m not stupid.
McCarty stomps down to the ring.
McCarty: Dick, you’ve talked all this talk about being a fighting champion, but I know a retirement announcement when I see one.
McCarty slides into the ring and pops up to his feet, pacing around Dover.
McCarty: and you must be out of your mind to think you can walk out of here title held high, to a cheering crowd, and go out as champion. You’re out of your goddamn mind.
Dover walks towards McCarty.
Dover: You don’t even-
McCarty: Save it, honestly. I came into this business as an outsider, and I was given the crash course. I don’t know where you learned this, it might have been in dogwater Florida, but it certainly wasn’t in Toronto.
Dover: Joey, you’ll shut the hell up if you know what’s good for you.
McCarty: What I was taught is that you always go out on your back. If you won’t do that, then I’ll do that for you.
Dover goes to talk, but McCarty slaps him.
McCarty: So what you’re going to do right now, is lie down, stare at the lights, and you can end your career the way you’re supposed to, and watch me coronate myself as a triple crown champion.
Dover: Interesting point Joey, counterpoint:
Dover hits McCarty with a spinning back elbow, sending him to the mat!
Dover: You don’t tell me what to fucking do. So here’s what we’re actually going to do, I’m going to show these people I am a fighting champion, we’re going to get a ref out here, and I’m going to whoop your ass
Crowd: YAYYYYY
Mann: HOLD ON A SECOND, DOVER. YOU DON’T GET TO PROMISE PEOPLE MATCHES, I MAKE THE MATCHES but that is a good idea so lets get a ref out here BECAUSE I SAID SO.
Crowd (a little more confused): YAYYY
Jeff Boone sprints out from backstage at full speed and dives headfirst under the rope into the ring.
Boone: ALRIGHTWEGOTAREGULARCHAMPIONSHIPMATCHONEFALLLET’SKEEPITCLEANBOYSNOCLOSEDKNUCKLESONPUNCHESNOHAIRPULLINGIWON’THAVEANYNONSENSEINTHISRINGYOUHEREMEOKRINGTHEBELL
The bell rings, leaving both men a little stunned at how quickly this match has started. Joey moves into action first, lurching for Dover, arms outstretched in a clear indication that Joey wants to initiate a classic “Test of Strength.” Dick Dover knocks away the hands and shoots for a double-leg takedown, sending Joey sprawling to the mat.
Mann: Wow, an incredibly technical start for Dover. Sometimes I think we forget home in depth his wrestling knowhow is.
Dick Dover is slowly overpowering Joey from underneath, when a glint shines in the Canadian’s eyes. A brutal knee to the face erupts from McCarty, slamming into Dover’s nose. Dover steps back, covering his damaged face. Blood begins to drip onto the mat.
Woodbridge: Wow, Dover is absolutely busted up!
Paisner: That’s the opportunistic streak of McCarty showing. Give him an inch, he’ll take a mile and sell you back the inch for triple it’s market value.
Dover shakes his head, trying to clear up the fog inflicted from Joey’s move. Before he gets a chance to recover, Joey is behind him, snaking his arms up to lock Dover in a full nelson. Dover is in a precarious position, but he digs his fingers into Joey’s eyes, cause the hold to release.
Woodbridge: A savvy veteran move, but is it legal?
Mann: Absolutely not. It seems like this ref is going to let them play on, for some reason. Very hands off.
Woodbridge: When you’ve got two fighters who will do whatever it takes to win, sometimes it’s best to just let them go at it. Anything less than that could give the other an unfair advantage.
Dover throws a couple quick strikes to McCarty’s midsection. Joey winces and bends over, giving Dick the opportunity to hit him with a Leg Drop Bulldog that pounds Joey into the mat!
Crowd: WOOOOAH!
Dover capitalizes on McCarty’s grounded position, dropping some falling elbows into the fallen man. But the third elbow doesn’t land cleanly, given Joey the opportunity to flip over and nail another knee into Dover, this time right on the side of his head.
Mann: Hard to imagine these headshots won’t have an effect on Dover if this match goes long.
A quick leap to his feet, and Joey finally has the position he wanted in the beginning, locking up Dover in a contested full collar tie. He gains the upper hand, and begins controlling Dover towards the corner. A grasp of Dover’s wounded head, and then suddenly McCarty is rubbing Dover’s face all over the ringpost!
Crowd: OOOF
But Dover isn’t one to take something like this without fighting back. A wild leg flail nails McCarty right in the gonads, sending him backwards in pain. The ref looks to step in, but then decides not to as Dover runs towards his and lands an uppercut into lariat combo that sends Joey back down to the ground. Dover attempts a cover!
1!
No!
Joey kicks out with relative ease, prompting Dover to consider more violence towards the grounded wrestler.
Mann: What could this devilish man be considering next?
Dover sits on McCarty.
Woodbridge: A chair!
A quick pivot from Dover, and suddenly Joey is up in the air, face in anguish from the inverted surfboard stretch.
Woodbridge: A painful chair!
Suddenly, a voice rings out from the crowd.
Random Fan: DOVER IS STILL LAME!
Dover, mildly irritated by the fan, releases the hold on Joey, sending the stretched out man to the mat. He gets up and aggressively points to the crowd in the direction of the mysterious fan.
Dover: Hey Asshole! You wanna see lame? I’ll show you lame!
Dover grabs Joey’s hair and becomes slamming punches into the downed man’s face.
Crowd: LAME DOVER LAME DOVER LAME DOVER
A frustrated Dover now releases the hold and turns his back on Joey, heading over to the ringpost. He begins to remove the cover. At this point, blood has completely covered his chest. Joey stirs and stands, sneaking up to behind Dover. A quick snatch and Joey has surprise rolled up Dover for a pin!
1!
2!
No!
Dover kicks out and gets back to his feet, but Joey is quicker and grabs Dover’s arm for an irish whip, sending him into the exposed ring post!* The hard metal digs into the small of Dover’s back and he reels in pain, back into Joey who snags his wrist, twisting it into a hold. Dover is up in the air and slammed back onto his neck as Joey lands a modified Fisherman Driver on the champion!
Crowd: OOOOOHHHHH!!!!
It’s Joey’s turn to batter the grounded Dover, repeatedly sending soccer kicks into his skull. The dull sound of bone against flesh carries through the arena in a way that makes most attendees uncomfortable. Joey lifts Dover to his feet, intending to whip him into the exposed ring post again, but Dover has seen this before. He counters with a reversal, sending McCarty into the ropes, McCarty rebounds and Dover SLAMS him into the mat with a teeth-rattling spinebuster!
Crowd: YAYYYYY
Mann: I’m not sure if Dover’s winning the crowd over or if they just enjoy seeing Joey get hurt, either way, Dover is red-hot!
Dover grabs McCarty, and goes into the set up for his Doverleaf! But before he can, a small figure pops up onto the apron.
Woodbridge: WOAH, WHAT IS SHE DOING HERE?!
Gigi appears holding a spray bottle and she sprays a fine clear mist right into Dover’s eyes and cackles maniacally!
Mann: What’s this?! It's Gigi! And she’s just assaulted Dover with some sort of liquid!
Dover drops McCarty and grabs at his eyes. Kaitlyn Casey Jones appears from the crowd, holding a sign that says “GAMER GIRL BATHWATER $279.69”, she hops the barricade and grabs a mic, laughing with Gigi. Jones pulls a card out of her pocket and starts reading it.
KCJ: Hey faaaans, if you’re looking to order some of the water that our favorite e-girl actually bathes in, it’s up on the website right now! Guaranteed to have touched Gigi’s skin, go to www.gigigamergirlgush.pizza for more details. Fuck you, Dick!”
Gigi: I wrote that last part.
McCarty clambers to his feet, confused. He notices Dover staggering, and launches himself into the air, connecting with a superman punch to the back of Dover’s skull.
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOO
Mann: BERTUZZI! DOVER’S OUT COLD
Woodbridge: I can’t believe this, Dover’s had the title stolen from him!
McCarty scrambles to cover Dover.
1
2
3-NO
Crowd: WOAAAAAH YAYYY
Mann: Dover kicked out!
Woodbridge: How!?!?
McCarty stumbles to the corner in disbelief, and collapses into a seated position onto the bottom turnbuckle, the crowd swells, and McCarty’s confounded expression turns to disbelief and then to anger, he pops to his feet and stomps towards Dover.
Woodbridge: What do either of these men have left in the bag?!
McCarty lifts Dover to his feet, cussing him out as he does. McCarty attempts his Bus Driver Uppercut, but Dover springs to life and catches him, and PLANTS him with a kneeling jawbreaker!
Mann: Cliffs of Dover!
Woodbridge: From the last of his energy!
Mann: Cover!
1
2
3
DING DING DING
Crowd: YAYYYYY!
Mann: Dover is still Independent Champion!
Before Javier can make the announcement, Gigi and KCJ hit the ring and attack Dover, as McCarty rolls out of the ring, jumping him and punching and kicking Dover while he’s down.
Crowd: BOOOOOOOO
Woodbridge: What the hell is this?!
Mann: Gigi still thinks she’s owed a shot at the Independent Championship, she must have made some sort of deal with McCarty to get her match!
Woodbridge: And now that her plan is up in smoke, she’s taking it out on Dover!
Gigi and KCJ continue their assault, KCJ picks up the mic and is about to speak, but before she can, Adam Raised A Cain plays.
Crowd: YAYYYYYYYY
Woodbridge: Someone else with unfinished business, Mark Dutch!
Mark Dutch runs out, Joey McCarty is standing on the ramp, and Dutch shoulder checks him out of the way! Dutch then slides into the ring, and pulls KCJ off of Dover and out of the ring! Gigi scrambles out of the ring away from Dutch.
Mann: Last time we saw these two, they were at eachothers throats, but now Dutch comes to save Dover? What’s going on?
Woodbridge: Looks like there's still lots of unfinished business around these parts.
Mann: That’s enough of this.
Mann grabs a stick mic and attempts to stand on the commentary table, but it wobbles so he instead stands on his chair
Mann: When I brought this company back, it wasn’t for what it was, but what it can become, so I can’t have you three stinking up the joint with old beef, so let’s settle this at the next show. You three for the Independent Title. a brief pause to let that sink in
Crowd: WOOOOOOO
Mann sits back down with a grin on his face.
Mann: I like this “making matches live” thing
Woodbridge: Could stand to work on your crowd work though.
Mann: More WiR action, after this!
Dover, Dutch and Gigi staring eachother down as we fade out to commercial.

submitted by Gameran to wrestlingisreddit [link] [comments]

2023.06.02 04:45 Gameran Dexter Flux Presents: Sound-Off! - Part One

Previously unannounced press conference, May 31, 2023.

Cameras are rolling as the owner of Mann Corporation, Shay D. Mann, hair in a perfectly put-together part, adorned in a navy suit and white tie, steps forward to a podium, in front of a WiR backdrop, microphone in hand.
Mann: My name is Shay Duncan Mann. And I am the new owner and proprietor of Wrestling is Reddit. I can assure you that your beloved Allen Paisner will be returning in the future, however, he could not make tonight's show due to some…
Mann smirks.
Mann: Legal complications. But fear not, I’ll be taking his place in the booth tonight.
The crowd erupts with applause and cheers, eager to witness the rebirth of their beloved wrestling promotion, even without Paisner for the evening.
Mann: Tonight, we embark on an exhilarating journey, as WiR takes a bold leap forward. I stand before you not just as the owner, but as a “fan”—a fan who understands the passion and dedication that this community shares for the world of wrestling.
Mann tries to hide a grimace as he proclaims his “fandom”. The crowd anticipates Mann’s next move
Mann: For too long, WiR has been dormant, unable to proceed, some of the talent trapped in Europe with no way home. But this, is no more! Today, we resurrect the spirit of WiR, bringing it back to life with a bang! And what better way to open things up by “Sounding Off"! Presented by the one and only, Dexter Flux
The crowd gives an actual cheer with genuine enthusiasm at the mention of Flux, their sort of god-king.
Mann: "Sound Off" isn't just a name; it's a rallying cry! It's a call for all of you, the WiR faithful, to voice your opinions, to express your passion, and to join us in this incredible journey. This event will be a celebration of everything that makes WiR special—the wrestling, the community, and the shared experiences that bring us all together.
The press conference crowd, whose papering becomes increasingly obvious the more Mann talks, is enthusiastic, as they eagerly hang onto Shay D. Mann's every word, perhaps a little too eagerly.
Mann: Tonight, in this very ring, our talented roster will ignite your imagination, deliver jaw-dropping performances, and create moments that will be etched in your memories forever. Sound Off! will leave you on the edge of your seats, craving for more.
The crowd roars with the excitement of a hair dryer pop.
Mann: But this is not just a show; it's a community. Together, we'll embrace the highs and lows, the victories and defeats. We'll share our opinions, engage in spirited debates, and build something truly remarkable. WiR is your platform—your voice will be heard!
The crowd erupts once again, their cheers echoing through the arena, showcasing their dedication to WiR, or getting paid to be there
Mann: So, my friends, get ready to immerse yourselves in the magic of WiR once again. Open your hearts, open your minds, and let the exhilaration of "Sound Off" wash over you! Tonight, we begin a new era—one that will redefine the landscape of this sport. Welcome back to WiR, my friends. Because Wrestling… is Revived.
With a sly smile, Shay D. Mann raises his microphone high, signaling the start of the show, as things fade to a video of Dexter Flux. His face is slightly out of frame as the camera points to his chest and chin.
Crowd: YEEEEAAAHHHHHH WE LOVE FLUX! WE LOVE FLUX!
Flux: Hey, it’s me, Dexter Flux. Welcome, uh, welcome you know, back to wrestl- Ugh, sorry, something was like, in my throat. Wrestling is Reddit. Welcome back to Wrestling is Reddit. This is House Party.

Knott's Berry Farm, June 1st, 2023.

With that rousing introduction, we now cut back to the day of, with a drone shot of the ring set up at Knott’s Berry Farm, fans on makeshift stands in the berry field, a parking lot and farmhouse off in the far distance, before [off brand royalty free music] begins to play!
Crowd: YEEEAAHHHH
Through the makeshift curtain, Tony “The Milkman” Stevens appears, wearing a pair of off-blue tights with cow white print, a single blue elbow pad on the left side, with a pair of gloved hands- in which, he holds a pristine white umbrella. The Milkman points his umbrella right down the lens of the camera…
Milkman: Good to be back, fellas, and good to see you, Mr. Cameraman! Been a while.
Mann: And here comes the Milkman, and a huge ovation from this crowd! But no Horde jacket with him!
Woodbridge: Or any jacket. But we’re in Anaheim, its hot out
Mann You’re right. But he did prepare for rain.
The Milkman hands off his umbrella to a fan at ringside, before sliding under the bottom rope, and ascending the left hard camera turnbuckle, firing up the crowd, before doing a backflip off the top rope, and into the ring!
Crowd: YEEAAAAHHHHHH
The Camera cuts back to the entranceway, as the music changes, to Skillet
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOO
Jericho Styles appears on the ramp, adorned in an Allen Iverson Nuggets Jersey. He blows off a fan’s high five attempt, before sliding into the ring and taking a position opposite of Stevens.
Babaganoush: WiR fans… welcome to Anaheim California, the beautiful Knotts Berry Farm! Welcome! To Sound Off! Presented by Dexter Flux.
Crowd: W-I-R! W-I-R! W-I-R! W-I-R!
Banaganoush: Our opening contest is scheduled for one fall to a finish. Introducing first, to my right… wrestling out San Jose California, weighing in at 217 pounds, Jericho… Styles!
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOO
Babaganoush: And his opponent, to my left. Weighing in at 208 pounds…
Crowd begins to rise
Babaganoush: Wrestling out of… Brooklyn, New York! Tony… “The Milkmaaannnnnnn” Stevens!
Crowd erupts into indiscriminate cheers
DING DING DING
The Milkman and Styles circle each other as the bell rings, before Styles takes the initiative with a lock up attempt, which he quickly transitions to a rear waist lock. Milkman thinks on his feet, and grabs the arm of Styles lifting it above his head, and turning to break the lock, before using it to get behind Jericho, who uses his size advantage to overpower Stevens and apply a hammerlock, using the position to turn Stevens around, and take him down to the mat with an arm drag, maintaining control of the arm, which he quickly leverages into a pinfall…
ONE
Milkman gets his free shoulder up!
Crowd: Yay!
Woodbridge: JZ leveraging some technical skill here in the opening moments of this one, but can’t keep the Milkman down!
Mann: Only one count for Styles
Styles refuses to relinquish his grip on the arm, and as Stevens gets up, pushes him back into the corner before he can balance himself. Styles whips Stevens across the ring to the other corner, before charging in and being met with Milkman’s knee! Stevens capitalizes on his newly made opening by delivering a sharp kick to the chest of Styles, before whipping him against the ropes. Styles charges back, and tries to use his momentum to catch Stevens with a hip toss, but can only get Stevens a few inches of height off the ground before the Milkman lands on his feet, lifts and Styles up for an atomic drop, which forces him to let go of Stevens. With his arm now free, The Milkman plants himself, and delivers a [devastating lariat]. With what self-preservation he has left, Styles rolls to the outside, and onto the grass.
Woodbridge: And The Milkman just leveled Styles with that lariat!
Mann: Not something we’re quite used to seeing from Stevens, some hard strikes early in this one that really seemed to throw Styles off his game.
Styles pulls himself up by the barricade, to the direct ire of front-row fans who continue to heckle him. Back in the ring, Stevens throws himself off the far-end ropes, charges in for a dive… before Styles ducks down to avoid being hit. Stevens doesn’t change speed, and instead, throws himself between the ropes for a 6-1-9 that hits nothing but air, launching himself back into the ring, and landing on his feet. After this feat of dexterity, and with Styles on the ground outside, The Milkman takes a bow for his efforts.
Crowd: YEEEAAHHH!!
Four dues in front of the hard cam: WE LOVE MILK! WE LOVE MILK!
At a count of eight, Styles, returns to the ring, and the two wrestlers square off again. Styles gets the better of the two on the lockup, delivering a stomp to Stevens’ foot, before kneeling him in the stomach. Styles lifts Stevens up for a suplex, but Stevens shifts his weight and lands on his feet behind him! The Milkman attempts a German suplex, but Styles throws a firm elbow to the jaw and repositions behind Stevens for a German attempt of his own. Stevens gives Styles a receipt with a firm, calcium-hardened elbow of his own, before bounding over to the ropes, and attempting a lionsault to a standing Styles! Styles catches him, but Stevens slips free, pushes Styles into the corner, and he takes a chest-first bump. Stevens harnesses his agility once more to get into poison-rana position on the shoulders of Styles, but Styles uses one arm to flip Milkman off balance and send him tumbling to the ground. Quickly, Stevens attempts to transition to a sunset flip but has to abandon ship as Styles tries to poke him in the eyes, jamming his finger into the canvas as a result. Stevens uses the moment to leap up to Bret’s rope, turn around, and deliver a dropkick to Styles! Stevens then rolls to the apron, and pumps up the crowd with a wave of his hand…
Crowd: YEEEAAAHHH WOOO!!
Guy already 4 cheap beers in: I hate this Styles guy!
…and delivers another springboard dropkick, this one from the top rope! Stevens flexes for the crowd, before rolling into a cover…
ONE
TWO
Styles gets a shoulder up!
Mann: Does The Milkman seem a bit different to you, Woodbridge?
Woodbridge: Milkman definitely wants to show off early, he looks like he hasn’t lost a step!
Mann: Maybe even gained one, and it almost feels like he’s being a bit disrespectful of his opponent, don’t you think?
Woodbridge: And what are you insinuating?
Mann: Well, maybe performing in front of a WiR crowd again has him a little more amped than usual! Trying a lot of those high-risk maneuvers early- we’re only a few minutes into this one, folks!
After the Kickout, Stevens signals to the cheering crowd, runs off the ropes, and attempts a wheelbarrow bulldog, but as he pushes himself up, Styles swivels his hips, and Stevens face plants into the mat.
Mann: And Stevens’ showing off cost him there!
Styles knees Stevens in the stomach, before putting his head between the legs, and sets up for the Styles Clash! He can’t lock in Milkman’s arms, and Stevens uses them to push off the mat to sit up above Jericho! Stevens tries throwing a punch at Jericho’s head, but he pivots his plan, and adjusts to deliver a powerbomb! As he releases, Stevens adjusts his body and manages to mitigate some of the damage by landing awkwardly on the back foot, stumbling back into the ropes.
Mann: If Styles hit that, it could have spelled an early end for Stevens!
Stevens pulls himself back to his feet using the ropes and charges back in with a clothesline attempt, but Styles sees it coming, grabs the arm and uses it to shift the momentum, and lifts Stevens for a tilt-a-whirl Backbreaker!
Crowd: BOOOOOO
Mann: And Styles seems to be in control here.
Woodbridge: Stevens took some early momentum, but Styles has had a counter for everything Stevens has thrown at him.
Styles pulls Stevens up to his feet by the hair, before casually flipping one of Stevens’ arms over his shoulder for a uranage position before holding his arms out to the crowd!
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOO
Styles smirks at the boos incoming, and throws Stevens with a t-bone suplex. Once Stevens is planted, Styles stomps the stomach to force him to sit up, before stretching the arms behind for a surfboard stretch!
Styles: I’m a technical wrestler now, assholes!
Mann: Styles slowing things down here, grounding the Milkman
Woodbridge: Not a bad strategy, we saw how The Milkman was in control with a faster pace!
One guy holding up a sign with Goku: WE-LOVE-GOKU! WE-LOVE-GOKU!
Everyone else in the crowd is deafeningly silent
Styles: AND WHAT WOULD GOKU DO HERE, STUPID IDIOT?
Styles breaks his hold and approaches the hard camera ropes to yell at the fan more
Styles: Dragon Ball is overrated trash!
Styles kicks Stevens back to the mat
Styles That one was for you, fucking weeb!
As Stevens once again rises to his feet, Styles punches him and he falls back to the mat, just for Styles to pick him back up, and line up against the ropes, for an irish whip. As Stevens returns to sender, Styles throws him straight up in the air… and football punts him in the chest on the way down!
Styles: Hey weeb guy! This one’s for you too! I saw a Japanese dude do it once!
Styles lifts Stevens up, sets him up with the arms behind the back… and delivers a slow, sloppy [tiger driver], before placing a single foot on the chest, and flexing
ONE
TWO
Kickout!
Crowd: YEEEAAAHHHH
Woodbridge: Well, he didn’t quite get all of it.
Styles takes time to put Stevens in a Camel Clutch.
Mann: And it seems Styles didn’t want to get left out of showing off!
Woodbridge: Well, he certainly nailed Milkman with that kick, but the Tiger Driver left a lot to be desired.
Mann: Styles seems to have control of this match when it’s slowed down, wearing Stevens with this technical wrestling prowess.
Woodbridge, reaching under the desk for a paper bag: Everyone wants to be a hero in front of the first crowd in two years
Styles releases Stevens from the hold by battering him in the back of the head with a forearm, picking him up by the scruff, and bouncing him off the ropes for an Irish whip and hitting him with the kitchen sink! But Stevens wastes no motion, and grabs the leg, turning Styles over for a rollup!
ONE
TWO
THR-
Kickout!
Crowd: BOOOOOO
Woodbridge: He almost got him with that rollup! From out of nowhere!
The Milkman tries to capitalize, but Styles returns the favor with a boot to the stomach.
Styles: I’ll show you to make a damn fool out of me!
Styles hoists Stevens up for a vertical suplex, before taking two steps and chucking him across the top rope! The Milkman bounces off the top rope, makes a deflating noise as the air is forced out of his lungs, and flops down to the floor outside!
Mann: Styles with some kind of inverted lawn-dart maneuver! Woodbridge, do you know what that’s called?
Woodbridge: Nope.
Crowd: BOOOOOO
Styles: Come on, milk boy, you have anything else for me?
Stevens crawls back into the ring, holding onto his ribs, before Styles once again kicks him in the stomach, and applies a chin lock in the ring.
Mann: Styles has found his target! If Stevens can’t breathe, he can’t fight!
Woodbridge: The young Styles showing some veteran instinct here, Mann, if Stevens has the wind knocked out of him, he can’t perform those high-flying moves he was nailing Styles with earlier!
Styles turns to the side, and locks Milkman in a body scissors, using his legs to apply pressure to the ribcage. Stevens tries to use his free legs to push both men closer to the ropes, but can only move them a few feet. Stevens smacks the mat with his free hand, and a guy in the crowd does it to the barricade. Stevens smacks the mat again, and a few more fans join in.
Crowd Smacking the barricade
Stevens pushes towards the ropes again, making more progress. Styles sees this, and releases the hold, grabbing Stevens by the hair with one hand, tights in the other, and pulling him up to his feet.
Styles: You want the ropes so bad, here, have them!
Styles runs over to the ropes with the Milkman, and hurls him between the middle and top rope, dumping him to the outside where he lands with a noticeable thud. Styles follows him to the outside, taking his time to savor the boos of the crowd, before delivering a knee to a rising Milkman, and lifting him for a vertical suplex on the grass! Styles rolls into the ring… and back out again to break the count. Despite the present beating, Stevens once again pulls himself to his feet.
Crowd: YEAAAH
And Styles knees him in the ribs.
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOO
Styles rolls Stevens back into the ring before taking a moment to confront the drunk fan who jeered him earlier. After his verbal exchange, Styles delivers a scoop slam to Stevens to keep him down, and the pressure on the body, before sliding into a cover.
ONE
TWO
Kickout!
Mann: Forcing Stevens to exert more energy there on the kick out, after continuing his assault on the ribs. A very solid strategy by Styles in this one.
Styles picks The Milkman up once more and prepares another vertical suplex, but the Milkman slips free! Stevens lands behind Styles, hooks his arms, and goes for a crucifix pin!
ONE
TWO
THRE-
Styles barely escapes! The Milkman wastes no motion as Styles rises back to his feet, bouncing off the hard camera ropes, and forcing Styles to drop back to the mat to avoid a strike. Stevens bounces off the opposite end, and Styles barely avoids him once more, this time with a slide-step that sees him almost lose his balance. Styles tries to save his momentum by charging at Stevens as he bounces off the ropes a third time, but Stevens pulls down the top rope, sending Styles to the apron! Stevens kicks Styles in the knee, before going through the middle rope to meet Styles on the apron. Styles tries to sweep out the leg of the Milkman, knocking himself down to one knee on the attempt, but Stevens jumps over it, and catches Styles with a Calcium Kiss Superkick that sends Styles to the grass below!
Crowd: YEAAAHH
With his foe grounded, Stevens looks to the crowd, positions himself in the middle of the ring, and before Styles can discover where he is, Stevens takes flight, springboarding off the middle rope with an Asai Milksault! On the landing, Stevens’ left knee awkwardly hits the uneven yard, and he visibly grimaces before falling backward.
Mann: And both men are down after that! Stevens with a ferocious comeback attempt, but he may have hurt himself!
Woodbridge: Someone hasn’t been taking care of their lawn.
Stevens hears the air exit the crowd, and pulls himself up, giving them a reassuring thumbs up, before using the leg he landed on to kick Styles in the back of his knee, before throwing him back into the ring. Stevens puts one leg into the ring through the middle rope, before looking into the crowd- and deciding to ascend the turnbuckles instead! The Milkman leaps, and delivers a diving hurricanrana! As Styles tries to roll to the ropes, Stevens uses their good leg to stomp on his chest, before pulling him back to the middle of the ring, and hitting a Standing Milksault! Stevens maintains the cover!
ONE
TWO
THR-
Styles gets a shoulder up!
Woodbridge: And Stevens throwing everything into this assault on Styles, but it still wasn’t enough to put him down!
Crowd: Let’s Go Milk-man! Let’s Go Milk-man!
Stevens picks Styles up, and lifts him onto his shoulders…
Woodbridge: He’s going for the Milky Way!
…But the injured knee can’t hold up the weight, and both men crash to the mat.
Entrance Music begins to play as a small, skinny wrestler in a leather jacket waltzes towards the two downed competitors
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Mann: And that’s Raven Van Loupe! Van Loupe is here at Sound Off!
Woodbridge: These two formed an alliance last time we saw them! But will it hold after the time off?
Van Loupe enters the ring, despite the protests of WiR official Tai Ni Wong, and glances at the pair as both try to pull themselves up, Stevens using the ropes, Styles on his own. Van Loupe looks back and forth… before kicking Stevens in the injured knee!
DING DING DING
Babaganoush: And here is your winner…
Van Loupe helps Styles to his feet, and the pair begin to lay the boots on Stevens.
Babaganoush: By disqualification as a result of interference, and striking a WiR official…
Styles takes the knee of the downed Milkman, and lifts it above his head, before thrashing it against the canvas.
Babaganoush: At a time of…
Van Loupe has Styles lift Stevens by the hair once more, before she runs to the ropes, jumps off the second rope, and Styles pushes The Milkman into the cutter.
Babaganoush: Ten minutes and twenty-three seconds…
Styles and Van Loupe stand over Stevens, and Styles prepares to deliver the finishing blow as he signals to the crowd that he is looking for the Styles Clash!
Banaganoush: Tony “The Milkmannnnnn” Stevens!!!!!!
Van Loupe: Are you done?
Van Loupe gives Styles a thumbs up, but as he goes to finish off Stevens, a mighty howl plays over the speakers as a short, scruffy man runs to the ring.
Woodbridge: That’s The Werewolf!
Mann Johnny, A Werewolf, is here! And he’s rushing to the ring!
Styles lets Stevens flop back down to the mat, holding his knee, and turns to face the incoming Werewolf as he slides under the ropes and into the ring. Styles steps before Vna Loupe to intercept, but the fresh Werewolf knocks him off his feet with The Pounce. The Werewolf comes face to face with Van Loupe in the center of the ring!
Crowd: AWOOOOOO
Mann: Pandemonium has broken out in the first match of Sound Off! And the fans are loving it!
Crowd: WE LOVE WERE-WOLF! clap clap clap clap clap WE LOVE WERE-WOLF!
Woodbridge: The Pack Wolf and the Werewolf facing off in the center of the ring!
Mann: And these two have unfinished business! The Lifeblood exists because they took issue with being left behind for signings like Werewolf!
Johnny feints left, before throwing a right jab! The Werewolf unleashes Pack Tactics on Van Loupe! As he stops throwing punches, and signals for another pounce, Styles kips up, and levels the werewolf with a lariat!
Crowd: BOOOOO
Van Loupe and Styles begin to wear down the Werewolf, delivering blow after blow to Johnny as the boos rain from the crowd. Van Loupe delivers a stomp to the knee of The Milkman to keep him down before they and Jericho set up to finish off styles…
When an Italian Flag appears on the video screen, and an absolute guido of an Italian-American, hair dripping with greaseslowly walks out from behind the curtain, wearing a Shohei Ohtani jersey!
…A Shohei Ohtani… New York Mets jersey.
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Mann: That’s The Apex! Arturo Stiglione! Stiglione is in the yard!
Stiglione slowly scopes out the scene on his way to the ring, seeing the downed Milkman on the left of the ring, the downed werewolf on the right, and the standing Lifeblood members in the middle. He slowly ascends the stairs and stands across from Van Loupe and Styles.
Wodbridge: And The Apex, not a fan of Johnny, a very terse relationship between these two.
Apex: Hell ova job ya done hea’
Van Loupe: If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stand aside, and maybe we won’t hurt you.
Apex: Dont’cha mind me, just monitoring the situation.
Styles pulls Van Loupe aside, and the two have an impromptu conference, before nodding along, and continuing their attack on Werewolf.
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
With The Lifeblood’s backs turned Styles looks down at his fist. He looks down at the blue and orange he’s adorned in, and loosens up his arm. He points to the back of Styles, who senses the crowd rising, and turns around… to be met with a spinning backfist!!
Crowd: YEEEAAAHHHH
Mann: Styles has made his choice! And he chooses to stand against The Lifeblood!
Van Loupe hears his body hit the canvas, and turns around, to be met with the sight of a downed Styles! The Apex takes off his Mets jersey… to reveal an Angels jersey! The Werewolf is back on his feet, and he and the Apex come face to face! Van Loupe rises back up at the wrong time, as the two share a nod, and deliver a double clothesline! Seeing the situation turn against him, Styles slinks to the outside, and grabs a chair from under the ring, before sneaking back in behind the Werewolf and Apex, who have turned to the hard camera. Styles raises the chair to strike…
...And gets blasted by a Calcium Kiss from The Milkman!
Crowd: WOOOOOO
The three faces are all back on their feet in the middle of the ring, standing tall! As the three begin to celebrate…
“It’s a Psychobilly Freakout!
Mann: That’s the music of Mason Saunders! But where is he?
Saunders’ music plays, but the entranceway remains empty.
Woodbridge: He’s behind us, Mann! He just jumped the barricade!
Mann: But he’s outnumbered, Woodbridge, both his allies are down!
Undeterred by the numbers disadvantage, Saunders slides behind the faces, and as they recognize the trap, Saunders is already in the ring! The Werewolf approaches first and throws a jab that almost seems to bounce off the chin of Saunders. Saunders simply stares, and when the Werewolf tries a second one, Saunders swipes it aside with a tree trunk arm, before launching into action and dropping the Werewolf with a right hook, which catches the Werewolf cleanly on the jaw, who slumps backward onto the canvas. The Milkman tries to charge to his aid, but Saunders delivers a pump kick to put him back on the canvas. The Apex tries to make a move while Saunders’ back is turned facing Stevens, but he fails to do any damage and is swiftly thrown aside. Saunders drops the Milkman again, before turning around to face Apex… who turns around, and flees the ring as fast as possible!
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Mann: And Stiglione, getting out of dodge as soon as he can!
Woodbridge: And turning tail and running, Stiglione is out of here!
As Stiglione flees up the entranceway, the rest of the Lifeblood begins to pick themselves up. Saunders puts the Werewolf pack down on the canvas with a scoop powerslam, and boots him out of the ring. The Lifeblood stand united, and face the hard camera, Stiglione and Werewolf removed, and the Milkman down on the opposite end of the ring. JZ ascends to the second rope of the left turnbuckle, Van Loupe to the right, and the three all pose for the hard camera!
Mann: And the Lifeblood, although not victorious in the match, is victorious here in the aftermath!
Woodbridge: But wait, The Milkman is trying to get back up!
Mann: Stevens of course, left for the picking, as other members of The Horde are all the way on the other side of the Farm preparing for their match later!
Stevens struggles to pull himself up to his feet, knee buckling under him. Saunders perks up, and stops his pose. Stevens staggers to his feet, and before he can get very far, Saunders turns, and with blinding speed nails Stevens with a disgusting lariat that nearly takes his head off!
Woodbridge: And the Milk has gone spoiled.
The Lifeblood circle the downed Milkman like vultures, and Van Loupe drops to one knee, and picks up the Milkman’s head by the hair! JZ gets down as well, and the two strike a pose, with Milkman’s body as the centerpiece!
Mann: A statement made, by the Lifeblood
Woodbridge: To me, Mann, it looks like the statement was made by Saunders, Van Loupe, and JZ just picked up the scraps!
Van Loupe, holding up Milkman to the Camera victoriously: Take a look, WiR, this is the future! We are the Lifeblood of this company, and don’t forget that!
The camera pans out to JZ and Van Loupe celebrating over Milkman’s body, while Saunders stares from behind, before fading out to a commercial break.
Javier: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL, with a 20 minute time limit. Your referee for this contest is Mia So Hung. Introducing first, from Montreal, Canada, weighing in at 119 pounds...... GIGI♥ V!
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
A significantly smaller but incredibly loud section of the crowd: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!
Music begins to swell in the background, and the crowd continues their jeering (and occasional unbridled simping) until Gigi steps out, running her hands down her body to the lewd Ashnikko verse.
Mann: Gigi here, surrounded by her legion of fans, who are then surrounded by a legion of people who absolutely despise her. As it should be here in WiR.
Gigi saunters to the ring, taking vaguely suggestive selfies with her ravenous fans on the front row, and generally seeming uncaring about the forthcoming match.
Woodbridge: And given her successes recently, it’s gonna be easy to overlook a competitor like Li Xiao, which very easily could prove fatal.
Gigi steps into the ring, as Javier starts his announcing again.
Javier: And her opponent, from Hong Kong, weighing in at 105 pounds... LI XIAO!!!
A unfamiliar metal song blasts out from the speakers, and a rather familiar hyperactive martial artist bounces out from behind the curtain!
Crowd: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!
Xiao charges down the ramp with a head of steam, hyped and ready to fight.
Mann: Xiao has some of the most devastating offense in this company, and if she’s able to keep momentum, it could very well shatter Gigi’s plans of making a statement here!
Woodbridge: Yeah, sure, but Xiao’s a tag team specialist first and foremost. She comes in to deal damage and then gets out before she takes too much abuse.
Xiao hops into the ring, and the referee pats both competitors down, before gesturing for the bell.
DING DING DING
In an interesting turn of events, Gigi and Li Xiao start off with a collar-and-elbow tie up in the center of the ring. Gigi takes quick advantage of her height and weight advantage to gain leverage and force Li Xiao backwards into the ropes.
Mann: Gigi starting off with the basics here, knowing Li Xiao is nothing if not an incredibly explosive fighter.
Woodbridge: That’s right, Xiao wrestles like my grandpa used to make moonshine, god rest his soul!
Gigi sets herself, and when Xiao tries to push off the ropes and get Gigi off, Gigi directs the momentum into a modified biel, throwing Li Xiao across the ring! Gigi takes a moment to smirk and pose for the fans - a mistake, as Xiao rolls through the throw and hits the ropes on the opposite side of the ring!
Mann: Incredible strength from Gigi!
Gigi turns around into a sprinting palm strike from Xiao, staggering backwards into the ropes yet again, and Xiao follows up with a big kick to the gut! Gigi’s doubled over, and Xiao drops her with a DDT!
Woodbridge: Xiao’s fired up, and she’s quite possibly looking to end this match before it even gets started!
Xiao with the cover!
1!
2!
Gigi kicks out right at 2, and rolls up, obviously shocked and dazed. The crowd in attendance is split, with the wrestling fans excited to see Gigi on the ropes, and the Gigi fans absolutely in shambles. Xiao is up quickly, as Gigi staggers to her feet - Xiao hits the ropes, springboards, and catches Gigi with a beautiful headscissors!
Crowd: WOOOOOO!
Gigi rolls through, runs the ropes, and comes back with a head of steam! Xiao dodges a clothesline attempt, shoves Gigi to the other rope, and gets ready for the comeback - Gigi catches the ropes! Xiao charges in to press the advantage, and eats an officially branded Gigi♥ boot to the face! Xiao is absolutely rocked, staggering backwards, and this time Gigi takes the initiative and absolutely levels Xiao with a clothesline! Xiao spirals to the mat, and Gigi blows a kiss to the fans in attendance!
Gigi: I am your future champion, and this is the match I’m booked in?
Gigi catches Xiao with a boot to the back of the head! Xiao rolls over, and Gigi drops a knee onto her throat, before going for the cover!
1!
2!
Xiao muscles out of the pin, clutching her head!
Woodbridge: We got two high fliers here, these women make a livin’ out of dodging attacks. Anything that lands here is going to be devastating!
Mann: And right now, it looks like Xiao is barely conscious after those blows to the head!
Gigi gets up, and winks at her fans in attendance and watching live throughout the world.
Crowd: BOOOOOO!/YAAAAAAAAAAY!
Gigi saunters over to Xiao, and plays up the boot she’s about to give - SMALL PACKAGE! SMALL PACKAGE!
1!
2!
Gigi kicks out, and her mood instantly changes. Xiao is staggering to her feet, and takes a full on slap to the face!
Crowd: OOOOOOOOOH!
Mann: What a slap from Gigi, obviously assisted by her official Gigi♥ gloves, sponsored by Fairtex!
Woodbridge: Gigi’s pissed now, and you could hear that slap all the way in Los Angeles!
Xiao clutches her face, and Gigi follows up with a huge kick to the gut! Xiao falls to one knee, and Gigi finishes the trifecta with a roundhouse to the head!
Crowd: OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!
Xiao collapses to the mat!
Mann: And Xiao’s down! What a kick!
Woodbridge: That kick nearly took her head off, Shay! I don’t know if she’s even conscious down there!
Gigi’s prepared, and is looking to finish this, climbing to the top rope! Xiao is flat on her back on the mat, and Gigi takes the leap, flipping forwards with a swanton! Xiao is still conscious, though, and rolls away in the nick of time, leaving Gigi high and dry!
Crowd: YAAAAAAY! KUNG PAO! KUNG PAO! KUNG PAO!
Mann: I... feel like that’s problematic, somehow.
Woodbridge: Nah, ‘sfine, don’t worry about it.
Xiao grabs for the ropes, pulling herself to her feet, but is obviously still dazed from the kick!
Woodbridge: Xiao’s hurt!
Mann: You see this a lot in Li Xiao singles matches - she’s got an incredible offense, but she’s fragile at best in-ring!
Gigi is holding her back, and glares at Xiao in frustration!
Gigi: You were supposed to stay down! it was going on Tiktok!
Gigi charges forward, ready to avenge her mistake, but takes a knee to the gut! Gigi staggers for a second, only to get a chop to the neck! She’s reeling! Xiao with a forearm! Xiao with a elbow strike!
Crowd: OHHHHHHHHHH!
Xiao takes a step backwards, and lets out a KIAI, before charging forward with a roundhouse - NO! SCHOOLBOY FROM GIGI!
1!
2!
Xiao kicks out at 2.6, rolls to her feet, and is immediately back on the offensive, catching Gigi with a kick to the gut!
Mann: Xiao was going for her trademark flurry of blows, and that roundhouse could very well have ended this match!
Woodbridge: Sure, but it doesn’t look like Gigi’s in a better spot right now anyway!
Xiao measures, as Gigi slowly gets back to her feet, and steps through the ropes, stalking her opponent! Gigi’s up, and Xiao leaps onto the ropes, going for a springboard - GIGI HOOKS HER LEG!
Crowd: BOOOOO!
Xiao loses her footing, and falls neck-first onto the ropes, before collapsing to the outside of the ring!
Mann: Gigi with a lightning-quick reversal!
Woodbridge: Xiao might be seriously hurt down there!
Gigi regains some of her confidence, and gives the crowd an innocent smile, completely ignoring the competitor she might have seriously injured. As the count reaches six, Gigi finally springs into action, rolling out of the ring, and grabbing Xiao by the hair!
Gigi: That’s what you get for ruining my moment!
Gigi pulls Xiao up to her feet, and throws her into the ring. Gigi rolls in as Xiao fights to one knee, then to her feet! Gigi smirks, and stands in front of Xiao, posing for the crowd -
WHAM!
Xiao with a JKD backfist!
Woodbridge: River City Knockout! That’s Biff’s move! What a moment to strike!
Gigi is staggered - falls to one knee - then gets back up, just in time to eat THE CRANE KICK
Crowd: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!
Woodbridge: CRANE KICK! CRANE KICK!
Gigi is down! Xiao is staggering after landing the crane kick, and collapses to a knee herself! Xiao takes a moment to collect herself, then throws herself into the cover, hooking both legs!
1!
2!
3!
NO!
Mia hits the three count, and Xiao rolls off, sure she’s won the match, but Gigi’s right hand is on the ropes!
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Mia explains to Xiao, who is obviously frustrated, but nods. She takes a moment to kick Gigi’s wrist, knocking her hand off the ropes, before climbing to the top rope! Xiao steels herself - leaps - corkscrews through the air!
Woodbridge: Xiao’s Wing!
Gigi gets her knees up! Xiao lands back-first onto Gigi’s knees! Xiao bounces halfway across the ring, clutching her back and neck, and lands on her chest!
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Mann: And Gigi has just enough in the tank to get that counter in!
Gigi, with what seems like massive effort, rolls over, before crawling towards Xiao, who seems to be completely out of it. She crawls over Xiao, with a knowing smirk, before hooking her legs around Xiao’s head!
Mann: Gigi looking for the Paywall, this modified figure four choke!
Woodbridge: And half the audience is looking at something else right now.
Gigi torques Xiao’s already injured neck back, cutting off all airflow! Xiao struggles for a moment, but is trapped in the center of the ring! She crawls forward, but Gigi leans back, torquing her neck even further! Xiao swings back with an elbow, then another, but her arm is caught by Gigi’s free hand! After a moment of struggling, Xiao finally relents, and taps in the center of the ring!
DING DING DING!
Javier: And your winner, at a time of 7:53.... GIGI!
Gigi rolls out of the ring, obviously the worse for wear, clutching her neck after the crane kick to the skull!
Mann: And Gigi with a hard-fought win after these two threw everything at each other in a absolutely brutal short match!
Woodbridge: Xiao’s not a singles competitor on her own, but she showed just how brutal her brand of offense is when it needs to be - if Biff has the same resilience he used to have the tag division might need to be on notice!

submitted by Gameran to wrestlingisreddit [link] [comments]

2023.06.02 03:05 CatsandPathfinder 28 [M4F] NC/US/Online - What's Your Favorite Thing to do in the Whole World?

Mine is a hot shower. Sure, I like playing roleplaying games and watching stuff on streaming as much as the next guy, but hot water on my skin? That's where it's at. Sometimes you have to appreciate the simple things in life.
There are other things I like, of course. Aside from the aforementioned roleplaying games (see the second half of my username to find out which ones), I'm a big fan of technology, hockey, and animals. I have 2 cats and a bearded dragon, and am happy to share pics of any of them!
I haven't talked about myself professionally yet, and that's because there isn't much to say. I'm still in college, because I took a looong break from it and worked retail for a while because of mental health issues and later the pandemic. I'm in an engineering field and am hoping that'll go well. So no, my shit is not yet together, but when it is together, it'll be REALLY together.
So... politics and religion. Touchy subject which I'm approaching with all the grace of a bull in a china shop, but suffice it to say, I'm an atheist and I'm pretty far to the left. I staunchly refuse to date a conservative (not that they'd be particularly interested in my "child murder" supporting ass anyway), but I honestly don't care if you believe in a higher power, the universe, reincarnation, the flying spaghetti monster, whichever you like. Just keep in mind that I won't believe in them.
Oh, and one other important thing I won't do - reproduce. My bloodline dies with me, as a friend once told me. I don't hate children, though I do feel a certain discomfort around them (was the youngest growing up, never really had to change a diaper or whatever), like I don't know what to say or how to behave. But that's not the main reason I don't want kids. Mostly it's because I have mental health issues that I've been struggling with throughout my life and I think that even if I did want to have kids, it would be selfish of me to pass that on.
Physically, I'm 135 lb, five foot five inches, I have brown hair, blue eyes and I'm white. Picture will be available upon request. I prefer women who are average or slender like me. Oh, and you can be any height, I don't care, I only mention it because you likely do and I don't want an awkward situation where you start talking to me and find out I'm too short for your liking.
Penultimate paragraph. What I'm looking for right now is intimacy of any kind really. Long term would be nice, short term would be perfectly acceptable. I find it difficult to meet people using apps (I'm a 5.5 on a good day, and I know it), and IRL I'm surrounded by 18-22 year olds who are either A) too young or B) have no interest in me.
P.S.
I'd like to share pictures early, and ideally video call early. I have no patience for women with "broken phones" as I've encountered time and time again. I'm sorry, that trick is just not believable if it's been the case with 4 separate women I've talked to on here. if you're not willing to prove you are who you say you are, I have no interest in you.

submitted by CatsandPathfinder to ForeverAloneDating [link] [comments]

2023.06.02 03:04 CatsandPathfinder 28 [M4F] NC/US/Online - What's Your Favorite Thing to do in the Whole World?

submitted by CatsandPathfinder to r4r [link] [comments]

2023.06.02 00:08 NBAjjchamberlain NBA Finals 2023 - Five Strategies to Watch

This year’s NBA Finals is already historic. The Heat are the first play-in team to claw their way out of a 44-38 record and 8th seed to land themselves in the NBA Finals. The Nuggets have never made a Finals, had the best record in the battle hardened West and the city is absolutely stoked. What are NBA heads saying about the series? What are fans around the world hoping to see? How are coaches going to keep these ballers away from Denver’s number one trending story of the year: Shotgun Willie’s Gentleman’s Club, which infamously siren songed the Grizzlies’ Ja Morant into stacking cash on every inch of the private dance room? Slap a booty and get ready for the last NBA basketball of the year.
1 - How to stop Nikola Jokic?
The two time MVP is having yet another killer season. He’s been, arguably, the best player in the playoffs of all time. He’s averging a triple double on 29.9 points, 13.3 assists, 10.3 rebounds and around 1 block and 1 steal per game. This guy can do it all and has undoubtedly contributed to the Heat coaching staff’s lack of sleep. Luckily the state just decrminalized a fanny pack of plant based drugs that may help.
Everyone knows how much the Heat love running zone defense. Can the zone even stop Jokic? Doubt it but the Heat are going to try. They run a fluid 2-3 zone which can flow directly into a 1-3-1 formation. The Heat need to pack the middle of the floor and push Jokic to the sidelines on the pick and roll using their 1-3-1. If the Heat can keep Jokic out of the middle of the floor that limits his options on the center-point guard pick and roll that he runs to perfection with Jamal Murray. Look for easy rebounds and putbacks on the weak side from Aaron Gordon and Michael Porter Jr.
Can the Nuggets outshoot the zone? Damn right they can. Will they? We’ll see. The Heat run out and defend every single three point attempt. They held the sharp shooting Boston Celtics to 30% from 3, down from 37% during the regular season. However, this series may be won from the three point line if the Nuggets can run and the Heat can get Butler into the lane for kickouts.
2 - Who can guard Jimmy Butler?
Aaron Gordon most likely. We will see if he’s too slow to stay in front of Jimmy. If Butler still has that nagging injury he’s been battling the past two series that will help out AG. There are a couple bodies that the Nuggets can throw at James Effin Buckets. Kentavious Caldwell-Pope is an underrated defender with sneaky strength. Reggie Jackson is rusty but used to be able to defend at a high level. Bruce Brown has the heart of fiesty chihuahua but he’s too small. Jamal is too small too. We’ve all seen what Jimmy’s done to smaller guards, he’ll bully his way to the lane and make defenders look stupid with his pump fakes, footwork, interior passing and little chip shots. If Jimmy gets stuffed this series, who will show up for the Heat?
3 - Malone vs Spo
Erik Spoelstra has solidified his standing as one of the greatest coaches of the era, possibly all time. This will be his 6th NBA Finals since taking over the reigns from Pat Riley in 2009. I have no doubt that Spo has some tricks in the bag and having the Godfather on speed dial doesn’t hurt either.
But Malone is no stranger to NBA legacies. His father Brendan was an assistant for the champion Pistons in the late 80’s and then again with the Knicks Finals run in 1999 and the Reggie Miller Pacers in 2000. Michael himself was an assistant during LeBron’s first Finals in 2007. So he does have some experience here in the promised land.
This coaching matchup will come down to, you guessed it, in-game adjustments. Each coach’s ability to change on the fly will be crucial to finding the weak points in each other’s schemes. Every possession will matter in these games. Look for Malone to push the pace with his crew and try to get some quick transition buckets before the Heat can set up their defense. Jokic excels in the rebound-and-go game. In the half court, Malone will try to move Jokic around to different points on the floor and it will be especially interesting when he puts Joker back to the basket in the post. He has the passing, vision, strength, length and creativity to be dangerous that close to the basket.
Spoelstra on the other hand will walk the ball up, play through Butler and try to swing the Nuggets defense from side to side. Expect him to set up Duncan Robinson and Max Strus on the wings where they can be dangerous driving or shooting the three off the Butler-Bam Adebayo pick and roll. Kevin Love can still knock down an open jumper and may have some post move tricks up his sleeve. But he’s so old he can’t even drive a golf cart anymore. Love can be another big body that Spo can put on Jokic to give him different defenders.
4 - Bench Scoring - Who will shine?
The bright lights may burn the bench guys but some will bask in the glory. Kyle Lowry is due for a big game after struggling against the Celtics top tier wing defenders. The Nuggets don’t have the bench defense to hold down all the Heat shooters so we will see a game won by a Heat backup, like we’ve seen in plenty of games so far this playoffs.
The Nuggets bench has issues. Jeff Green is too old. Christian Braun is too young. Reggie Jackson and Thomas Bryant have yet to work their way into the rotation. DeAndre Jordan is a mascot. However, expect some decent minutes from…Vlatko Cancar if the Heat bench is outperforming Green, Brown and Braun. Cancar can guard Love and Robinson. Really this Nuggets bench goes how Bruce Brown goes. If he has a hot game on both ends, the bench looks unstoppable. If he withers like a winter flower then the Heat bench will dominate like they’ve done all year.
5 - The crowd, the altitude, the experience, the refs
Intangibles. The stuff numbers can’t measure. The Nuggets crowd will be loud, fired up and intense. The Heat crowd, not so much. They’ve been spoiled over the years, show up late and leave early. They do wear the white shirts though which looks nice but makes the empty seats even more noticeable.
Do players play worse at altitude? Short answer, yes. Long answer, it depends. The altitude will effect the Heat at the beginning and end of games. The biggest concern is dehydration which means keeping the Heat out of the club and focused on basketball. Heat culture will play a big role here with everyone, top to bottom, 100% ready for each game.
The Heat have much more experience in the Finals than the Nuggets. They have two NBA champions in the rotation in KLove and KLow, three if you count the corpse of Udonis Haslem. They also have a few returning from their 2020 bubble Finals against the Lakers where they lost a heartbreaker to an Anthony Davis fall away three. This grizzled Heat team will be angry and hungry but what else is new? Their Finals experience may end up being the overriding factor in this series, especially among the coaching staffs. The Heat will stay calm and collected even with the intensity through the roof.
Finally, the NBA’s middle management, the refs. Who does the NBA want to win? What will revenue more? This is a coin flip. With the Lakers, Knicks, Celtics and Warriors all on the couch, gone fishin’ or 1-2-3 Cancunin’, the refs will likely call this series as even as they can. A Jokic ring would be the icing on the cake for Eastern European basketball which hasn’t ever had an MVP champion.
So who ya got? The Nuggets in 5 seems like a solid bet at +225 against a hobbled Heat team. But if the Heat push it to six and get back home expect them to finish hard and force a game 7. Heat in 7 is +1000 and it’s tough to bet against them the way they’ve defied all odds.

submitted by NBAjjchamberlain to justbasketball [link] [comments]

2023.06.02 00:00 FappidyDat [H] TF2 Keys & PayPal [W] Must-Play Metroidvanias

Notes:

I am EXTREMELY busy, but I check my messages and DMs at least ONCE per day. Please be patient and wait at least 24 hours for my response if I don't get back to you immediately.
I buy only in Unrevealed Key Link Format or Plain Steam Keys. No gift links.
For PayPal, I am in the US region and I only send via G&S. Please note there will be PayPal fees (including international/conversion and purchasing fees) to consider.
All games that you sell to me should ideally be REGION-FREE. Please ensure the games are not region-locked/bound to a specific country.
You must be willing to fill a spreadsheet with steam keys.

I pay with the following:
TF2 & PayPal

I Buy Must-Play Metroidvanias Bundle	with TF2	with PayPal
Blasphemous	~~1.0 TF2~~ Price Will Be Ready Soon	~~$2.04 PP~~ Price Will Be Ready Soon
Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night	~~1.3 TF2~~ Price Will Be Ready Soon	~~$2.67 PP~~ Price Will Be Ready Soon
Haiku, the Robot	~~1.0 TF2~~ Price Will Be Ready Soon	~~$2.02 PP~~ Price Will Be Ready Soon
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Full Bundle (Special)	8.33 TF2	$16.5 PP

I Buy Luck of the Draw: Roguelike Deckbuilders Bundle	with TF2	with PayPal
Luck be a Landlord	2.4 TF2	$4.77 PayPal
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Generation Zero®	1.5 TF2	$2.93 PayPal
Midnight Ghost Hunt	2.5 TF2	$4.93 PayPal
Northgard	3.9 TF2	$7.64 PayPal
Borderlands 3 Super Deluxe Edition	3.1 TF2	$6.19 PayPal
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Full Bundle (Special)	7.62 TF2	$15.08 PP

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Behind the Frame: The Finest Scenery	0.2 TF2	$0.42 PayPal
Bendy and the Dark Revival	0.4 TF2	$0.88 PayPal
Builder Simulator	0.3 TF2	$0.59 PayPal
Operation: Tango	0.4 TF2	$0.8 PayPal
Spiritfarer	1.1 TF2	$2.18 PayPal
Warhammer 40,000: Chaos Gate - Daemonhunters	2.2 TF2	$4.28 PayPal
Windjammers 2	0.2 TF2	$0.39 PayPal
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MONSTER HUNTER RISE	4.1 TF2	$8.09 PayPal
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Aliens: Fireteam Elite	1.0 TF2	$1.99 PayPal
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Labyrinthine	1.9 TF2	$3.76 PayPal
Propnight	0.7 TF2	$1.32 PayPal
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BIOMUTANT	1.6 TF2	$3.12 PayPal
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Jurassic World Evolution 2	2.4 TF2	$4.81 PayPal
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Pathfinder: Kingmaker - Enhanced Plus Edition	0.6 TF2	$1.25 PayPal
Mount & Blade: Warband	0.6 TF2	$1.28 PayPal
Strange Brigade	0.3 TF2	$0.62 PayPal
Stick Fight: The Game	0.6 TF2	$1.1 PayPal
Farming Simulator 17	0.6 TF2	$1.13 PayPal
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Armello	0.3 TF2	$0.69 PayPal
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I Buy Humble Choice (Feb 2023)	with TF2	with PayPal
Fallout 76	2.1 TF2	$4.22 PayPal
Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous	1.5 TF2	$2.9 PayPal
Thronebreaker: The Witcher Tales	0.3 TF2	$0.57 PayPal
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Lake	0.8 TF2	$1.51 PayPal
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Summer in Mara	0.6 TF2	$1.09 PayPal
Townscaper	0.6 TF2	$1.18 PayPal
Winkeltje: The Little Shop	1.1 TF2	$2.18 PayPal
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SCUM	3.0 TF2	$5.96 PayPal
State of Decay 2: Juggernaut Edition	3.0 TF2	$5.92 PayPal
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Haiku, the Robot	1.3 TF2	$2.56 PayPal
PowerSlave Exhumed	1.4 TF2	$2.79 PayPal
Source of Madness	0.6 TF2	$1.13 PayPal
Supraland Six Inches Under	1.5 TF2	$2.89 PayPal
ZERO Sievert	4.9 TF2	$9.65 PayPal
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Stranded Sails - Explorers of the Cursed Islands	0.3 TF2	$0.59 PayPal
Len's Island	4.2 TF2	$8.26 PayPal
Re:Legend	1.1 TF2	$2.13 PayPal
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Doom Eternal	2.5 TF2	$4.94 PayPal
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AMID EVIL	0.6 TF2	$1.18 PayPal
Dusk	2.0 TF2	$3.91 PayPal
Forgive me Father	0.2 TF2	$0.45 PayPal
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Gauntlet™ Slayer Edition	0.3 TF2	$0.5 PayPal
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LEGO Harry Potter: Years 5-7	0.6 TF2	$1.11 PayPal
LEGO® The Hobbit™	0.4 TF2	$0.89 PayPal
LEGO Lord of the Rings	0.4 TF2	$0.83 PayPal
Middle-earth: Shadow of Mordor Game of the Year Edition	0.9 TF2	$1.71 PayPal
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LEGO® Jurassic World™	0.4 TF2	$0.71 PayPal
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The LEGO Movie 2 Videogame	0.4 TF2	$0.8 PayPal
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Aragami	0.5 TF2	$0.9 PayPal
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DRIFT21	0.6 TF2	$1.12 PayPal
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Arizona Sunshine	2.1 TF2	$4.21 PayPal
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submitted by FappidyDat to SteamGameSwap [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 23:22 Trash_Tia My college's cheer squad have too much school spirit. In fact, I think they're going to kill me.

If I had to pick an embarrassing moment which will haunt me until I die—it has to be the time I tried out for The Sunbeam cheer squad last year. I was a freshman, and I wanted community. Friends.
I heard the cheer squad were just an extra-curricular group rather than an actual majoring level class, so I figured I’d give them a shot. It’s not like I could ignore them.
On my first day when I was moving into my dorm room, I must have walked into the same girl three times. I am in strict belief that it is not possible for a human being to be permanently happy.
And yet that was her. She wandered around like the sun shone right out of her ass, and it was both endearing and terrifying.
The girl resembled the sun herself, a halo of golden curls held in a scrunchie and a flaunting sundress, matching ribbons wrapped around her. The Sunbeam Squad were easy to spot because they were all wearing insanely bright yellow—waving around gold streamers, ribbons tangled in their hair. They all spoke in insanely high pitched voices like they inhaled helium for a living, but that must have been their shtick, right? It was kind of cute. I wasn’t expecting such a welcome in the shape of guy’s and girl’s looking like they had just stepped off of ABC Kids. The girl who handed me a flyer and yelled in my face about school spirit was practically hopping up and down, a bright grin splitting her lips apart.
I nodded and smiled politely, stuffing the flyer in my bag and heading into my room to finish moving my stuff in. When I looked out of my window a few hours later, the Sunbeam squad was still threaded through the crowd, each of them wrapped in glittering fairy lights illuminated in the late evening sunset glow. Sunbeam. Yeah, I got it, but it was still kinda overkill. They were starting to remind me of a cult.
That, however, didn’t stop me trying out. I’m fairly athletic, and they were exactly what I wanted. I’ve never had a group of people I could call friends.
Though it’s not like I could blame anyone but myself. I was a shut-in for most of high school. I either worked or preferred my own company in my room. One of my biggest regrets is pushing people away, friends I wanted to get even closer to. Because now they had built these lifelong friendships and relationships, and I was stuck at 18 years old with nobody but childhood friends I spoke to once a year when we sent mutual holiday greetings to each other. But college could change that.
At least, that’s what I hoped. I spoke to as many people as possible on my first day—and in my head I was making them. Slowly but surely I was actually making friends in my classes I wanted to hang out with.
Sunbeam were my attempt to go even further and join a club. Through word of mouth in my first few weeks of classes, I learned they were more of an extra-curricular group for fun.
They didn’t cheer competitively and had been formed in the mid-90’s by some kids who wanted to make a community out of positivity and school spirit. Sunbeam had a reputation for being Watson State student body’s beacons—and their team’s good luck charm. It was well known across campus that the squad was the reason behind the college’s fortune.
It had been like that since they formed 30 years ago, with members through the generations carrying out that pledge to spread as much pep as possible. While I say that they seemed nice judging from what I heard from others, they weren’t exactly the easiest clique to get into. Unless you were on the squad.
I saw them around campus between classes. They always moved as a group, the six of them with their arms wrapped around each other, brandishing the school colours. The guy’s in loose fitting varsity jackets, while the girl’s flaunted cheer skirts.
The way they acted was a little too close, like they were more than friends—and community and friendship had bled into something else. Like they had just walked out of an early 2000’s teen movie. Not that I was complaining. Their style was intriguing. They were like this untouchable group of god’s who had been placed on the highest pedestals. They ruled over campus, which made me want to get to know them even more. So, I tried out. Which was my first mistake of many in my freshman year.
It didn’t hit me that I was in way over my head until I was in the college gymnasium, standing in front of a four person panel like I was auditioning for a Hollywood movie. Sunbeam took their try-outs incredibly seriously. Which was weird considering they were known to be the complete opposite.
There were maybe fifty or so applicants, and we had to stand near the back wall and watch others try out one by one. Which was already setting off my anxiety. Weren’t they supposed to be closed try-outs? Initially, I was excited.
I had my routine in my head. What I had learned from watching the squad at my old school. High V, Low V, followed by a Touchdown, and then a backflip. I was confident. I mean, it ticked most cheer moves off, and even had a flip to complete the routine. My high school were a multi-sex quad, so I learned a lot from watching the guy’s moves during pep rallies.
I wasn’t really worried about the quality of the moves since they were known not to take everything too seriously. But watching the others try-out, impossible flips without crash mats and twisting their bodies in ways I didn’t know was possible, I quickly realised I was screwed. My competitors were acting like they were auditioning for an Olympic level team. My gut was dancing when I took centre stage.
The panel were made up of four members of the squad. Two boys and two girl’s, including the blonde who handed me the flyer on my first day. I was surprised when her eyes lit up with recognition.
"Oh, I know you!" She squeaked. Leaning forward, her smile seemed to brighten, illuminating her features. All four of them seemed to emanate a warm glow.
I felt myself relax slightly, the knot in my stomach loosening. Maybe their heightened positivity thing wasn’t a shtick, after all. The girl, as well as the other members of the team seemed genuinely happy to see me trying out. “What’s your name?” Her voice reverberated off of the walls, and I was suddenly aware of a dozen other students watching me.
“Alex.” I said, offering a shy wave. “Hey.”
Still grinning, she nudged a redhead next to her playfully. The guy was like no other I’d seen before. He was a god damn traffic light. He was easy to spot in a crowd and was usually one of the low-key members who kept his head down. All of those colours painting him, and yet somehow he wasn’t blinding people.
Though admittedly, he suited them; bright red hair clashing with the blue and gold of his football jersey, pasty skin and dark eyes drinking me in while the blonde girl pulled at his sleeve. “See, I told you annoying freshmen would work!”
In response, he chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Whatever you say, Evie.” The guy straightened up, leaning his chin on his fist, a curious spark in his eyes. “Alright.” Twisting around in his chair, he signalled for music. When it started, the beat slammed into me, rumbling under my feet. “Let’s see what you’ve got!”
I’m not going to describe my routine because I don’t have time to describe how fucking bad I was. In my head, I was doing okay. I was ready to finish with my back flip, but the music abruptly cut off and I found myself struggling to find my breath with my hands in the air, panting like an idiot. The blonde maintained her smile, but it was slightly strained. I could tell she was struggling to keep the façade of a Sunbeam member while also retaining critical thinking.
The redhead looked like he was in pain. He was first to speak, and I could tell by his sympathy smile I’d screwed up. The others who I hadn’t fully taken in until that moment, an asian American guy, and a girl with pigtails, were laughing like pre-schoolers. And they didn’t stop until the redhead shot them the warning eyes.
Weirdly enough, the crowd of onlookers didn’t join in. I expected the redhead to politely tell me I sucked, but instead he cocked his head, chewing on his pen. “You’re good.” He said. “You’re a good dancer, and I liked your moves…”
He trailed off. “But it’s positivity we’re looking for. And you didn’t smile once through your whole routine which made you look stiff. Like you weren’t even enjoying it.” He shrugged helplessly. “I like you, and I like your dancing. And I’m sure you could be better if you worked on it. There are countless dancing clubs here, so maybe you might be better fitted there.” After exchanging a look with the blonde, he sighed. “Unfortunately, you’re not the type of person we’re looking for.”
Evie nodded. “I agree. We pride ourselves on staying positive and smiling. I didn’t see that on you, Alex.”
“Same here.” Pigtails, still giggling, joined in. “I don’t think you’ve got enough school spirit.”
The other guy scoffed. He looked to be of Korean descent. Unlike the redhead, he was always at the centre of their group, always joking around and laughing. Just looking at him told me he was the leader. “Bullshit!” He slapped the table with one hand, running his hands through thick dark hair with the other. “I liked it. Fuck pep, amirite?” He threw his pen at the blonde, who retaliated in a squeak, lobbing hers at him. “Ignore these clowns. I think you’ve got what it takes. We just gotta work on you, y’know? All you’re missing is a cheesy grin.”
He pointed to himself, stretching his lips into the widest smile he could muster. “See? Like this.”
“Clowns?” Evie shook her head. “I didn’t see one smile. Sunbeam is all about smiling!”
“You make us sound like a cult.” The Korean-American caught my eye. “Which we’re not, by the way. These guys are just scared of change.”
“Okay, that’s too far.” Pigtails shot him a scowl. Are you seriously disrespecting the alumni who created us? Who birthed us?
“Well, yeah!” He threw his paper at her. “Sunbeam is a pep cult. We get high off of happiness. I thought we distinguished that.”
“Take that back!”
“Never! Why do you think I joined? To get high! Do you really think I joined for the cheering?”
They were joking around. I could tell by the smiles on their faces—a smile I knew I would never be able to mimic.
“Quiet.” The redhead shushed them. The guy had been sitting silently. Studying me. He leaned back, folding his arms.
“See, even now—even when I’m considering giving you a chance, there’s no hope in your eyes. Not even a glitter of excitement. You’re still not smiling and that’s what we want, Alex. We want people who will embody what Sunbeam is all about. Even if I give you a second chance to brighten up your routine your smile will be fake. And that’s not what we want. We want people who are willing to shed their humanity and become beacons.”
Beacons, huh?
And they were seriously saying they weren’t a cult?
The redhead stabbed at his sheet of paper with the end of his pen. “Can’t you just give us one smile? It won’t kill you.”
It was then when the others watching started to laugh—and I wanted to punch the asshole in the face.
“Dude, chill.” The Korean-American played with his pen, twirling it between two fingers. “He’s right, as much as I hate saying it. We do need smilers, unfortunately. But hey, you can try out next year! Just remember to smile, alright?” He threw something at me. A squashed candy bar.
Which made me look even more pathetic.
I found myself nodding, even when I knew it was all bullshit. Still though, what each member had told me hit me harder than it should have. They were just words, what could they do? It turned out, words were far more powerful than I realised—I just didn’t know it yet. I didn’t wait for the others to speak and made a quick getaway, my gut twisting and turning.
They were a cult. That is what I decided. These guys were a cult who needed members willing to throw away their souls. Probably for ritualistic sacrifice.
They needed weak people, I thought. Even when part of me knew they were right. I wasn't a smiler. Every photo I'm in, I'm either frowning or look constipated. Still though, I didn't dwell on the try-outs for too long. By the time a week had gone by, I had mostly forgotten about it and threw myself into my studies and college life.
Though something was wrong with me. It was as if the world had slowed down, had stopped making sense completely. Every day felt like a dream, and I myself felt like I was a ghost, like I was disassociating from my own body. Conversations with people felt fake. Like I was making them up.
I remember waking up day after day in a daze I couldn’t get myself out of. It was only several weeks later did the thick mind fog which had been blanketing my brain finally lift—only for me to hear the news that all six members of the Sunbeam squad had disappeared. I don’t know how I didn’t notice, how I didn’t see the police investigation, or hear rumours being spread around like wildfire.
According to the college, it wasn't technically considered a disappearance since the members were all over eighteen, no longer minors. However, an investigation was conducted, with a statement being released that they were due to be performing at Knoxville College, cheering on our football team. But they never turned up. And what made it worse, was their bus was found abandoned on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. Sounds bad, right?
Well, that's what we all thought. Vigils were already being held, and bodies weren't even found yet. Every time I walked back to my dorm after classes, the night would be lit up in warm golden light, candles flickering in the breeze. I'm not sure how many days had gone by-- they all seemed to blur into one-- when our college made another statement. The members of the Sunbeam squad were alive and healthy and had been sent to a training academy for professionals.
When the student body responded with confusion and scepticism, the college reassured us they were coming back once they were finished training. And while my classmates were relieved, I found myself confused. Sunbeam didn't cheer competitively. Their whole thing was that all they wanted to do was spread cheer and pep, regardless of how good they were. I had seen them perform, and they were good, sure. They were better than average. But definitely not good enough to be trained into pro’s. Their moves were too clumsy, too half assed—which I was convinced they thought overwhelming amounts of positivity could fix. So it didn’t make sense that they had been sent to some training academy. I kept up my scepticism until I saw them for myself.
The college were right. Sunbeam returned a week later like nothing had happened.
I did see a change in them. I think that was a universal opinion though. Sunbeam were well known for their pep and cheer, their constant smiling faces which drove me crazy—and it’s not like that stopped. They still smiled. They still walked around campus laughing together, in their own little world. That was when people were watching. When they had an audience. I caught them when they didn’t have an audience. Without eyes on them, they detached from each other, their eyes darkening, expressions twisting, like each of them could smell something rotten in the air. I started noticing they were getting progressively clumsier at keeping up that Sunbeam façade they must have pledged when they joined the group. I figured it was just tiredness. They must have been through some pretty intense training.
Anyway, months went by. I started to feel less distant, and the fog which had been choking me faded, thankfully. I started my junior year moving into a shared house with my roommate, and the only talk I’d heard about Sunbeam was that one of their ex members was rumoured to be pregnant. As for the rest of the squad, they were still popular, still talked about—but their disappearance had definitely made people wary of them. I even heard someone say they were considered bad luck. I guess people thought they had sold themselves out for a chance to get into the big leagues. And it wouldn’t surprise me.
Forced positivity can get you a long way, sure—but recognition can get you further.
It was just a few weeks ago when I was invited to a game. Our first of the season, thanks to delays due to cuts in the sports department. I’m not much of a sports fan, though I needed a distraction from the copious amounts of assignments I’d let pile on my desk.
When I sat down with a chilli dog and Coke, I wasn’t expecting to get so invested in a game where I had no idea what was happening. It was loud and obnoxious and I was choking on the stink of fried food, but it was fun. It was fun until Sunbeam walked out onto the side-lines. I glimpsed them in a blur of blue and gold, and a dull pain crawled across the back of my head. “You okay?” My housemate’s voice was barely distinguishable in my ears, when I found myself transfixed by the way they moved in erratic jumps, quickly taking position. They had gotten better. Everything which was Sunbeam had been stripped away. Their smiles were forced. Wrong.
I remembered they used to push and shove each other, making the crowd laugh. Now though, they were in almost perfect sync in the way they moved, no longer shakily, sometimes stumbling into each other. Their routine was longer than it usually was—and when the Korean-American guy perfected a triple flip, the crowd went crazy. I expected him to smile when he landed, grinning into the audience to generate what Sunbeam was made for. But his expression stayed stoic. Robotic. They were stiff. Heads up, backs straight, staring ahead of them. I was told when I tried out that fake smiles weren’t allowed, and yet that was all I was seeing. I was seeing egotistical grins and curled lips, quick glances between each member.
I expected looks of reassurances, and in jokes only they found funny. Instead, it looked like a mutual agreement.
They were planning something. From the looks on their faces, it wasn’t a firework show.
Sunbeam used to generate happiness. Their smiles, even under a façade, had always been real.
These guys emanated power. The way they stood. The guy’s at the front, readying what I guessed was a lift, and the girl’s on top of them.
Their routine ended with the music reaching a climax, and the two main girl’s being lifted into the air while performing High V’s.
But they didn’t stop there.
When the crowd exploded with applause, one of the girl’s slowly raised her arms and shot into the crowd with finger guns.
She shot twice—and with every time she pulled that imaginary trigger, her painted lips stretched into a maniacal grin.Until her gaze was on me. And then behind me. I could see it in her glittering eyes I could no longer call human. I met Evie at the start of my freshman year, and then at the disastrous try-outs.
I knew her wide smile, and the glint of passion twisting her expression—a love for the group and the members she couldn’t put into words. Right then I wasn’t seeing Evie, a Sunbeam cheerleader. I was seeing something else entirely, a being scanning faces in the crowd for a victim.
Her expression seemed to melt, from a gleeful grin, to something twisted and putrid, someone who craved the exact opposite of what Sunbeam preached. I watched her lips. I watched the words pop into existence, drowned into nothing by the crowds cheering. But I saw them in perfect clarity. “Drop.” She said, before pulling the imaginary trigger again.
No sooner had the words left her mouth before someone screamed behind me. I twisted around to see a guy had collapsed. He was pronounced dead five minutes later by his sobbing girlfriend who had attempted CPR. When I twisted back to look out onto the field, the Sunbeam Squad were gone. It didn’t make sense that they were the ones to cause the guy’s death—but it couldn’t have been a coincidence, right? Evie had shot into the crowd at the exact same time the guy had dropped dead. Finger guns weren’t a weapon of course, but the timing was too coincidental. I already knew there was something wrong with Sunbeam. And this just strengthened my claims.
Obviously, when I tried to tell people this, I was called crazy. Delusional. I reported it to the student information building and just got a blank stare.
The woman wasn’t even attempting to hear my story. She just heard “murder” and “Sunbeam” and her lips curved into an amused smirk. “You know, you are quite fascinating,” leaning back against her chair, the woman frowned at me through wonky glasses. "First you unexpectedly quit, and then you accuse them of murder. Which I can tell you is false.”
She flipped through a notebook in front of her. “According to the autopsy report released a few days ago, the young man died of a brain haemorrhage, not the result of being pretend shot at by a cheerleader miming finger-guns.” The woman cleared her throat.
“Tell me, what exactly do you have against the Sunbeam squad?"
“What?”
“You quit the squad at the end of your freshman year,” she said, “And now you’re trying to accuse them of murder? Fascinating.”
Her words struck me, a shiver sliding down my spine. The office was cosy, and when I sunk into the rich leather of the couch in front of a roaring fire I recognised the book on her desk. It was a dog eared copy of Harry Potter. I’d seen it before. But that was impossible. I had never been in her office. “Quit?” I shook my head. “No, I don’t…” I trailed off, stumbling over my words. “I’ve never been part of Sunbeam.”
“Were you not?” She shook her head, a crease forming between her brows. “Ah, I must be getting you mixed up with someone else.”
I nodded. “Just… can you just listen to me? That Evie girl was fucking—”
She cut me off. “Language.”
“Sorry. Evie. She was… I don’t know what she was doing... she was doing like... like magic?”
“Are you sure you didn’t dream it?”
“Yes!"
“Mmm hmm.” The woman cleared her throat, dismissing my protests. “I’m not a doctor, but If you’re experiencing memory loss and confusion, I suggest you go to the hospital. As for your ludicrous claims, you should keep them to yourself. That poor young man died due to a brain haemorrhage. Terrible and tragic, yes. But it was accidental, and not the work of… I’m sorry, what were you claiming it to be?”
“Magic.” I said, again.
When she raised her brow, I couldn’t resist a groan. “I saw her! She shot into the crowd and mouthed something!”
“She… mouthed something?”
“Yes! But—"
Again, her words sliced into mine. “Okay, let’s say you were right,” she said. “If you are saying this girl shot into the crowd with her imaginary gun, wouldn’t it be a gun shot which would have killed him? You said it yourself—, it was some kind of witchy magic to kill him. So, where was the bullet wound?” When I tried to speak, she raised her arm to shut me up.
“Exactly. There was none. Because the man suffered a haemorrhagic stroke, and nothing could be done to save him. Your claims a group of young people carried this out as a murder is not only blatant defamation, but also disrespectful to the young man and his family. Now, please leave my office. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” The woman nodded for me to stand up. “I think you have been watching too much TV. Might I suggest focusing on your studies?”
I left her office, slamming the door.
My housemate wasn’t helpful when I told him. He told me I was maybe a little too obsessed with Sunbeam. He headed to work, and I ended up in the lounge trying to focus on an episode of Criminal Minds. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Evie.
I saw what she said.
Drop.
But it wasn’t the force of her imaginary finger-guns ricocheting back. It was the word. Drop.
It had been alive on her lips like it was a sentient thing bleeding into existence. I managed to fall asleep, twisted like a pretzel in my housemate’s favourite chair, when three loud knocks on the door tore me from slumber. I was on my feet, blinking, disoriented. It was rare when we got a visitor. Stumbling over to the door, I had a moment of hesitation. I imagined Evie on the other side.
I imagined her raising her hand and shooting her pretend finger-guns directly into my head.
When I opened the door, I was surprised to see three little kids. The youngest must have been maybe nine years old. To my surprise, they were dressed in Halloween costumes. There was a little witch, a ghost, and a scarecrow all carrying pumpkin shaped holders It took me a moment to realise I was staring at a group of Trick or Treaters. It wasn’t even mid-October yet.
“Hey there,” I said, “Uh, you guys are a little early.”
The little girl’s eyes were wide and unblinking. “We want candy.” She held out her candy holder. “Now.”
I decided to be firm with them. “It’s not Halloween.” I said, taking a small step back. I was grasping the handle, ready to slam it in their faces. These little shits were freaking me out. Not just their tone, but their expressions were vacant. There were no lights on and that terrified me. “Sorry kids, I don’t have any candy. But like I said, come back when it’s actually Halloween, and I’ll have candy bars for all of you. "
What I wasn’t expecting was for the Scarecrow to pull a knife out of his pumpkin shaped candy holder. He didn’t hold it like a kid should, clumsily, confused. There was a strategic way the way his fingers were wrapped around the handle—like he’d brandished one before. The kid held the knife up to his own neck and made a slicing motion. Like the little girl, his eyes were blank. Unblinking. There was something wrong in the way he was standing. Stiff, like a puppet on strings. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He squeaked out a laugh. I didn’t see him lunge forward, I was already moving back, stumbling, losing my footing.
The kid moved with impossible speed—and before I knew what was happening, the hilt of the knife was buried in my lower leg. I didn’t even feel pain. My body was being driven by adrenaline, pushing me to get away from him. I remember falling back. I remember my own trembling hands grasping hold of the handle and pulling out the knife. Red was pooling down my jeans and onto our hardwood floor. The little kids turned around and ran back down the steps into the night, and I watched them in a sort of daze.
They didn’t move like normal.
They stalked down the sidewalk like video game characters. The witch shoved a passing old man before pulling out a gun and pointing it at his head. But she didn’t shoot. The three of them ran off—and it was only when I was watching the top of the girl’s witch hat disappear into the night, when I glimpsed something—or someone—at the corner of my eye.
Before I heard laughter. The tree in front of me moved. At first I thought they were shadow’s. Before the shadows bled into figures. Four of them. I glimpsed the school colours. Blue and Gold. I saw twin ponytails, velvet and blonde-- as well as the tell-tale Sunbeam varsity jacket. The group were laughing, whispering to each other. Not exactly doing a good job of hiding. When they slipped from their hiding place, I recognised Evie. Her fingers gingerly on her nose while intense red pooled down her chin.
The others were the same, swiping at their faces with jacket sleeves. They didn’t seem fazed. The redhead’s gaze was latched onto the retreating children, his lips curling. I could sense he was still tethered to them. He was still commanding them to act out grand theft auto. They had caused the man’s death at the game and had controlled those children.
I wasn’t crazy or delusional. Evie had killed someone by simply shooting imaginary finger guns, and somehow the others were able to bleed into children’s heads, taking them over.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I heaved out a breath. The pain was starting to hit in waves I had to grit through. I couldn’t move. I was stuck, curled up on my floor. While they laughed.
I was halfway through stabbing 911 into my phone when one of them came over. It was the Korean-American. The one who had been the nicest to me out of all of them. The real smile I remembered was gone, replaced by something inhuman. Something I didn’t want to question.
With his hands stuffed in his varsity jacket pockets, he approached me with mocking eyes, almost an attempt at trying to mimic his old self.
The guy knelt in front of me with a chuckle. “Kids these days, right? They’re animals.”
His voice, no, his words, were hurting me. I felt each one penetrate me like gunshots.
My wound wasn’t bad. That’s what I estimated, anyway. I don’t think the kid had hit anything vital. But I needed the emergency room. I still had one hand grasping at my side, drenched in red.
I managed a hiss, grasping for my phone when he pulled it out of my grasp and waved it in the air. “Fuck off. What did you do to those little kids?” I gritted out, trying to reach for my damn phone. I was starting to feel the pain in my side and it hurt like a mother fucker—dizzying bolts of electricity which felt like waves of boiling hot water slamming into me one by one. I tried to get onto my knees, but he pushed me back down again. The guy cocked his head to the side, confusion creasing his expression.
“Ouch. That must hurt.”
"What did you... what did you do?" I hissed out.
His presence was hurting me. Every time he opened his mouth, it was agony. Somehow, it was worse than the stab-wound. This kind of pain was no other I’d felt before. The type I’d rather die than feel. A cry was clawing at my throat, fight or flight taking over. Again, I tried to move, I tried to get away from him. But he was holding down my arms and prodding at my side before sticking his finger in the cut and twisting. "I didn't do anything, Alex.”
His voice barely hit me when my vision blurred and I screamed. Like a fucking animal, I screamed. But not because his fingers were digging around in my insides.
Because my brain was suddenly boiling, a metal rod piercing my skull and stirring it into a soupy mess. His voice was inside me. It was bleeding into me, taking over me. But not just his voice. The world blurred around me and I was no longer in my doorway, bleeding out against the wall.
Instead, I was moving. I was… I was walking. No, I was being dragged. Except these weren’t my memories. This wasn’t my mind. I could see bare feet beneath me delicately slapping on white tiles. When I looked up, I saw an expanse of white like I was being led straight into the clouds. This was a building. There were glass doors and electronic panels, people in black guarding each one. It took a while for me to gain my senses—or him to gain his.
We could smell something like chlorine and taste rusty coins at the back of our throat. Feel the ice cold tiles against our bare toes. A strange feeling at the back of our head. We kept wanting to run our fingers through our hair, but every time we did, our fingers only touched bare skin. Scuffed and rigged skin. Tight fingers were wrapped around our arm, dragging us further and further into a white oblivion. Until a glass door seemingly appeared out of nowhere.
From now on, I am going to describe his memories very vaguely. I’m just going to tell you what I saw.
The room we walked into reminded me of a classroom—but there were no desks. In front of me were the other members of Sunbeam pressed against the back wall. They faced forwards, their gazes penetrating nothing. But I saw they were trembling. Terrified. The squad were dressed in pale white shorts and t-shirt, ugly red spattering the front. There were still traces of blue and glitter on their faces, ribbons hanging from bedraggled curls.
Their feet were bare and filthy like ours. When we were shoved forwards, we took our place next to Evie who had half of her hair shaved off. Her arms were folded across her cheer uniform, her bare feet tapping a beat against the floor. When a woman with dark red hair held in a strict ponytail entered and asked if either of us wanted to show her what we had learned, Evie eagerly raised her hand. “Okay, Evie.” The woman’s voice was too sweet. Sickly sweet. She gestured for the girl forward. “Show us what you’ve got.”
The door opened, and a man stepped through. His hands were tied in front of him, his eyes blank.
Evie nodded, her eyes set in determination. She cleared her throat. “Shatter.”
Nothing happened.
“Intent, Evie.” The woman said. “It doesn’t matter how you say the word unless you use proper intent. Try again.”
The girl did, growling in frustration.
"Shatter.”
The man’s head flew from his torso suddenly in a river of red, and the girl squeaked in excitement.
While we watched in horror, the rest of the squad gave in to their own despair.
Different days bled into one—and we watched faces change. Heads were shaved. Hair grew back. Fear turned to joy.
A blonde girl exploded into bloody chunks, splattering against the walls.
“Yes!” The redhead high-fived pigtails, the two of them locked into some bizarre handshake. “That’s what I’m TALKING about!”
“Bang!” One of the girls used finger guns, and with each “shot” innocents dropped against the wall one by one, their heads blown through.
She jumped up and down in glee. “Bang, bang, bang!”
“Keep going,” the voice of the woman crackled through the speaker. “You’ve almost got it.”
“Divide.” Pigtails used her pointer finger at an old man who was skewed by an invisible force sending bloody chunks of him to the floor.
"Show off.” The redhead said in a sing-song voice. He was slumped against the back wall using his jersey to wipe blood from his face while the others painted the room scarlet. With simple words of intent and a hand gesture, they were able to take people apart piece by piece.
Pigtails snorted when another “test subject” was brought in. "Oh, you think you can do better?”
“Think I can? I know I can.”
This time he plunged two fingers into his temples. He was centre stage, the others against the back wall with their arms folded.
“Rip it out.”
The test subject’s eyes widened, her trembling hands clawing at her own head, fingernails digging into flesh. “Rip…rip it out?”
His lip curved. “That’s what I said.”
We didn’t see the test subject rip her own brain from her skull. We were already burying our head into our knees and screeching into the floor. Another flash. Like watching a movie.
This time we’re cutting into our wrist with shards of glass. Pulling back fleshy flaps of our flesh, there are two wires entangled with muscle and bone. One red and one blue. “Why won’t you submit?” A sharp growl, and I can feel our body pressed against metal. Our arms are restrained. “Out of all of them, you refuse it.” A hand slaps our face. “You don’t want it!”
He started to laugh.
“You don’t want… control?”
He leaned his face closer. “Tell me to mutilate myself. Tell me to… to tear out my brain stem! That’s the beauty of it! No matter how impossible the order is, it will be completed! Control, my boy. Use it. Do you even understand how much you are going to shape the world? Words! Do you know how powerful they are? When said from the right mouth, with the right intent, they can cause bloodshed, pain and misery-- a despair drowning our already shattered earth. And you will be the centre of it. You will bring this world to its knees, Jason."
"Now, do it. We call it cutting, but you will find familiarity in referring to it as erasure. You can make up your own words if you would like. What matters is the intent.” I feel something slicing into our arm. It’s nothing medical. It’s torture. He plunges something sharp into the same spot and twists the blade until we throw our head back and scream at the ceiling.
“You’re the last one.” The man hissed. “Do it.”
“No.” I heard his—our—voice. “I… I can’t!”
“Do it!”
He’s dragging us again, forcing us down a long winding corridor until we reach another door.
"Drown." The boy - - Jason's-- voice was suddenly in my head. I could sense it was trying to hold back, attempting to peel back whatever power his own words had. But the word came again and again until it was suffocating his mouth. “Drown. Drown. Drown. Drown.” We were standing in the doorway of a smaller room. In the corner there was a figure curled up with their head pressed against the wall.
It was a guy.
I recognised our school colours, a bloodied varsity jacket over shorts and t-shirt. When he lifted his head and twisted to face the boy whose mind I was in, I noticed he had an uncanny resemblance to me. His eyes wide, frightened. They were my mother's.
This guy looked exactly like me.
No, it WAS me.
My eyes were shadowed and haunted.
Like I had been drained of everything I was.
As quickly as the memories came crashing into me, they were yanked away when the guy must have pulled back.
I blinked rapidly, and Jason looked as confused as me. Slowly, he pulled his finger from my cut. The man's voice was in my skull, and it was agonising. I felt the command in my head, my body instantly reacting to... to nothing. I had my hands out, ready to do.... do something.
"That was… just a trick,” He said. “Yeah! Just a trick!”
I found myself nodding, echoing his words. Something warm ran from my nose.
"Just... a trick..." I whispered, the words forced from my lips.
Blood spattered down my chin.
“Louder.” He said.
"JUST A TRICK!" I yelled, the force of the wail sending me my knees, panting. The guy was frowning, seemingly unsure what to do with me.
He wrapped up my wound and told me it wasn’t bad—and it wasn’t. I watched in disbelief as my skin stitched itself back together.
"Go into your kitchen." Jason said, and I felt the power of his words ripping through me like bullets. My body moved on its own, and I got to my feet and stepped into my kitchen. He followed me, grabbing a scarf off of the table.
"Get on your knees." I did, dropping to my knees, my breath in my throat, my mouth sealed shut. I could sense the others in the doorway as he wrapped the scarf around my eyes, the heel of his shoe slamming into my neck forcing me onto my stomach.
"I want you to wait for me to kill you."
His words pierced into me. I did. Even when I knew he was gone, the door slamming shut-- I waited. I waited until the next morning, until I regained control over my own body and pulled the scarf from my eyes. I'm still waiting, my brain in constant panic, twisting around when I'm alone, looking into every corner.
I was roped into going to Friday's game against Harrington. During Sunbeam’s routine, they did it again. They had the crowd's attention, and Evie was mouthing something. I felt her words, sharp like needles cutting into me. But they didn't penetrate. They have done something to the student body. Ever since, I’ve been catching looks around me. Those whose heads they have crawled into. Mindless eyes. Every so often an arm will touch mine, fingers will wrap around my neck. I can hear their feet pitter pattering after me. Those little kids from that night. I keep seeing the little witch girl in the corner of my eye. They’re creating an army who are coming for me once he decides to kill me.
If only I knew what happened to the Sunbeam squad. Maybe I can help them somehow.
But something tells me they’re way past help.
And so am I.
I wonder if one day, I might be allowed a glimpse of my memories. What really happened to me during my freshman year.
And why, ever since going into his mind, I dream of a white room.

submitted by Trash_Tia to TheCrypticCompendium [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 22:13 ColdLobsterBisque I’m an urban explorer. I found something I probably shouldn’t have.

Ya know, I was about to start this gruesome tale with a funny opening. Like, “Be me. Be stoopid urban explorer. Find manmade horrors beyond my comprehension. Cry. Imitate greentext for funny.” But it just seemed wrong, wrong to make fun of the helpless victims I encountered. So, I decided to instead say something more sensitive. I hope they find peace. In heaven? In the void? Outside Samsara? Wherever they believed. I’m an urban explorer, as I said in the title. I have seen such terrors such as “Cursewords spray painted to walls” and “S+H 4EVER”. Jokes aside, I mostly just delved into condemned, but rather new buildings. Like that one office building that was built in the ‘90s and the company made a new one. Not a sanitarium with ghosts still haunting, or a pagan church with miles of catacombs. Nope. Just some boring old offices, decked out with some old Halloween decorations to draw more clicks- and more money to my empty, college kid pockets. But I was… commissioned? I guess? By some guy to explore this old hospital. Several thousand dollars were promised to me, with a hundred in advance. I was tempted to take that prepay and run, but I figured- well, it couldn’t be bad. Just an old hospital. This “old hospital” turned out to be so, so much more. I was determined. The weak, can’t-play-horror-games loser I am thought I could handle it. As you’ll see later, I absolutely couldn’t, and I don’t think anyone could, honestly. I agreed to the guy, perhaps a bit too quickly, and he sent me the coordinates. Some hulk of a castle-asylum in Montreal. I had a quick thought of Project MKULTRA, but a quick google check let me know Alan Memorial is still used, for much less sinister purposes. Thank God, honestly. I don’t have the balls for that. Never will. I went with some buddies- Alan, Kelly, and Iz. Alan is a bit of a weird dude, but not in the sweaty way. He fangirls over a few books, but don’t we all? Kelly is a mechanic of the finest degree. She’s working towards an undergrad in general engineering. Iz loves the gym, has quite a lot of muscle for a shorter girl. We all bonded over a weird night at a pub, but that’s a story I’ll tell another day. To make a long story short, we all have our strange encounters with the unexplainable, and we try to forget it. And we have- just normal college kids, with nothing extra special about us but Kelly’s pet sugar glider. Alan and Iz had been with me to a few places, to be guests in my exploring. Just those old office buildings, though. When I told them, in the group chat, Iz and Kelly were quick to accept. Alan took a bit of coaxing, but eventually agreed. After I had everyone together, I finalized the payments with that contractor- four thousand, perfect to split. I should have been more skeptical about where that money came from, but at the time, I didn’t care about the legitimacy. As I said, broke college kid. We packed- a good length of rope, eight pairs of disposable gloves, and my recording equipment. Some other stuff, but it wasn’t of much importance. I fueled my old ‘07 Tundra, and off we went to somewhere in Montreal. When we got there, it gave my goosebumps. Iz laughed, and tried to break the ice with an awkward joke. “Kinda like Mystery Inc, huh?” She was met with silence. All of us were a bit scaredy cat, grim faced. I finally sighed, and with the help of Kelly and Alan, set up my camera and mics. “Make this a good one, guys. Our paychecks are riding on this one.” I collected myself, and plastered on a good old YouTube face. The group followed, and I motioned a “3, 2, 1”. “Hi guys! We have two big surprises for you today- number one, I have my friends Iz and Alan here, and a never-seem-before star, Kelly! We’ve got a great video here, and we would all appreciate it if you could blow up my Buy me a Coffee! Onto our second exciting thing for you today; we were gifted a massive amount of funding for a new, huge project- we’re here in Montreal, to explore an old, shut-down hospital! We’ve heard some reports of supernatural activity here, so maybe we’ll find some ghosts not yet at rest, still haunting… and they’ll haunt you too if you don’t smash those like and subscribe buttons!“ Kelly cringed a bit, and I felt a bit bad, for the clickbaity way I had to speak. Algorithm is a bitch, and this payed the bills well. I couldn’t change. “Now, we’re gonna have a look inside!” We walked up the dramatic stairs, and made a few comments about how absolutely 100% not clickbait spooky it looked. As we neared the antiquated maple doors, I creakily opened into the Feather’s Edge Hospital. A spew of dust and decay shot into our faces, making all of us sputter. “This place has been left for a long time, huh?” I asked the camera. We continued into a reception room, with a high ceiling and a dusty, gaudy chandelier hanging from the ceiling, its old-fashioned bulbs long broken. A skitter and a crash came from the dark corner, and my head turned like a whip. “What was that?” Kelly asked, already nervous. “Probably a raccoon… or maybe a spector!” I made a whistling noise, and Alan chuckled. Iz clicked on her flashlight, and made her way through scattered debris to a large, long desk. She swiped her finger across it, and it came back covered in dust. The desk had nearly a half inch of it, covering the surface. “Seems like this place hasn’t seen someone in… decades, probably.” Iz observed. “Seems like.” Alan concurred. Eager to get on with this, I tried to seem enthusiastic as I said, “Let’s move on to the meat and potatoes of this place!” Alan lead the charge, towards a large doorway, guarded with doors not unlike those you would see a deli. The old lock seemed rusty and broken, what looked like makeshift picks rotting in the keyway. Trying to ignore that, we strode through. A strong scent of rot permeated the air. “Something died in here.” Kelly seemed like she was ready to throw up. I was close, to be honest. “Wow. That’s… that’s something.” Alan said. “Let’s- agh- forge ahead!” Not even ten steps further, we came across out first big thing- a rolling hospital bed. Its metal frame was rusted, close to collapse. The sheets were crumpled and unmade, stained by a dark, crusty stain. Old blood. Kelly’s face turned a sickly, almost cartoonish yellow-green. “M-maybe we should, uh, cut the camera?” I swallowed a lump in my throat. “We’ll just.. send this to the guy. We won’t put this on the channel.” I kept the camera rolling, determined to keep it in one shot. “I don’t wanna do this!” Kelly wailed, and stepped back, one, two, and turned. She broke out in a run, and as I looked at Iz with one of those “looks”, I heard a sickening crack in the air. Alan whipped around, just a few milliseconds before me and Iz. I saw a shadowy hand scamper back to the corner. Kelly lay, a steady flow of crimson from her forehead, next to a blunt, yet twisted piece of metal, which was now stained with her fresh, bright scarlet blood. We stood for eleven seconds. Eleven seconds that held half my life, how eternal that moment was. Eleven seconds ago, there were four living people in this room. Now, there was three. “What the fuck.” Alan broke the silence with vulgarity. To be fair, I was barely an inch away from shouting obscenities. He broke into a sprint towards the doors, and pulled them open. Or, tried to. They were firmly locked. “What the fuck. What the fuck. What in the *fucking* hell-“ Alan was cut off by a scamper of a… something, in the relative void of a corner. My eyes darted around, first to Iz, who was just standing there, shaking, then to the creature. At first, I thought it was another body. Vaguely human-shaped, sprawled out. Its head shot up, and stared straight into me, pearly whites gleaming. Its eyelids were gone, leaving two eyes, piercing blue, wide as saucers. Staring right at me. Its jaw went slack, the not-quite-human loosening its hinges, preparing to speak. Still smiling, it said in a guttural voice, “Welcome to hell.

submitted by ColdLobsterBisque to nosleep [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 21:24 RandomAppalachian468 Don't fly over Barron County Ohio. [Repost]

The whirring blades of my MD-902 throbbed against the warm evening air, and I smiled.
From 5,000 feet, the ground flew by in a carpet of dark forests and kelly-green fields. The sun hung low on the horizon in a picturesque array of dazzling orange and gold, and I could make out the narrow strip of the Ohio River to my left, glistening in the fading daylight. This time of year, the trees would be full of the sweet aroma of fresh blossoms, and the frequent rains kept small pockets of fluffy white mist hanging in the treetops. It was a beautiful view, one that reminded me of why being a helicopter pilot trumped flying in a jumbo jet far above the clouds every day of the week.
Fourteen more days, and I’m debt free.
That made me grin even more. I’d been working as a charter pilot ever since I obtained my license at age 19, and after years of keeping my nose to the grindstone, I was closing on the final payment for real-estate in western Pennsylvania. With no debt, a fixer-upper house on 30 rural acres all to myself, and a respectable wage for a 26-year-old pilot, I looked forward to the financial freedom I could now enjoy. Maybe I’d take a vacation, somewhere exotic like Venice Italy, or the Dominican Republic. Or perhaps I’d sock the money back for the day I started a family.
“Remember kleineun, a real man looks after his own.”
My elderly ouma’s voice came back from the depths of my memories, her proud, sun-tanned face rising from the darkness. She and my Rhodesian grandfather had emigrated to the US when they were newlyweds, as the violence against white Boer descendants in South Africa spiraled out of control. My mother and father both died in a car crash when I was six, and it had been my grandparents who raised me. Due to this, I’d grown up with a slight accent that many of my classmates found amusing, and I could speak both English, and Afrikaans, the Boer tongue of our former home.
I shifted in my seat, stretched my back muscles, and glanced at the picture taped to my console. Both my parents flanked a grinning, gap-toothed six-year-old me, at the last Christmas we’d spent together. My mother beamed, her dark hair and Italian features a sharp contrast to my father’s sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. Sometimes, I liked to imagine they were smiling at me with pride at how well I flew the old silver-colored bird my company had assigned to me, and that made the long, lonely flights easier to bear.
A flicker caught my eye, and I broke my gaze away from the photograph.
Perched in its small cradle above the controls, my little black Garmin fuzzed over for a few seconds, its screen shifting from brightly colored maps to a barrage of grey static.
Did the power chord come loose?
I checked, ensuring the power-cable for the unit’s battery was plugged into the port on the control panel. It was a brand-new GPS unit, and I’d used it a few times already, so I knew it wasn’t defective. Granted, I could fly and navigate without it, but the Garmin made my time as a pilot so much easier that the thought of going blind was dreadful.
My fuel gauge danced, clicked to empty, then to full, in a bizarre jolt.
More of the gauges began to stutter, the entire panel seeming to develop terrets all at once, and my pulse began to race. Something was wrong, very wrong, and the sludge inside my bowels churned with sour fear.
“Come on, come on.” I flicked switches, turned dials, punched buttons, but nothing seemed to fix the spasming electronics. Every gauge failed, and without warning, I found myself plunged into inky darkness.
Outside, the sun surrendered to the pull of night, the sky darker than usual. A distant rumble of thunder reverberated above the roar of my helicopter’s engine, and I thought I glimpsed a streak of yellowish lightning on the far horizon to my left.
Calm down Chris. We’re still flying, so it must just be a blown fuse. Stay in control and find a place to set her down.
My sweaty palm slid on the cyclic stick, and both feet weighed heavy on the yaw pedals. The collective stuck to my other hand with a nervous vibration, and I squinted against the abyss outside.
Beep.
I jumped despite myself, as the little Garmin on my panel flared back to life, the static pulling aside to reveal a twitching display. Each time the screen glitched, it showed the colorful map detailing my flight path over the ground below, but I noticed that some of the lines changed, the names shifting, as if the device couldn’t decide between two different versions of the world.
One name jutted out at me, slate gray like most of the major county names, appearing with ghostly flickers from between two neighboring ones.
Barron County.
I stared, confused. I’d flown over this section of southeastern Ohio plenty of times, and I knew the counties by heart. At this point, I should have been over the southern end of Noble County, and maybe dipping lower into Washington. There was no Barron County Ohio. I was sure of it.
And yet it shown back at me from the digital landscape, a strange, almost cigar-shaped chunk of terrain carved from the surrounding counties like a tumor, sometimes there, sometimes not, as my little Garmin struggled to find the correct map. Rain began to patter against my cockpit window, and the entire aircraft rattled from a strong gust of wind. Thick clouds closed over my field of vision like a sea of gray cotton.
The blood in my veins turned to ice, and I sucked in a nervous breath.
Land. I had to land. There was nothing else to do, my flight controls weren’t responding, and only my Garmin had managed to come back to life. Perhaps I’d been hit by lightning, and the electronics had been fried? Either way, it was too dark to tell, but a storm seemed to be brewing, and if I didn’t get my feet on the ground soon, I could be in real trouble.
“Better safe than sorry.” I pushed down on the collective to start my slow descent and clicked the talking button for my headset. “Any station, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, over.”
Nothing.
“Any station, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, requesting emergency assistance, over.”
Still nothing.
If the radio’s dead, I’m really up a creek.
With my hand shaking, I clicked on the mic one more time. “Any station, this is—”
Like a curtain pulling back, the fog cleared from around my window, and the words stuck in my throat.
Without my gauges, I couldn’t tell just how far I’d descended, but I was definitely very low. Thick trees poked up from the ground, and the hills rolled into high ridges with flat valley floors, fields and pastures pockmarking them. Rain fell all around in cold, silvery sheets, a normal feature for the mid spring in this part of Ohio.
What wasn’t normal, were the fires.
At first, I thought they were forest fires for the amount of smoke and flames that bellowed from each spot, but as I swooped lower, my eyes widened in horror.
They were houses.
Farms, cottages, little clusters that barely constituted villages, all of them belched orange flames and black pillars of sooty smoke. I couldn’t hear above the helicopter blades, but I could see the flashes on the ground, along the road, in between the trees, and even coming from the burning buildings, little jets of golden light that spat into the darkness with anger.
Gunfire. That’s rifle fire, a whole lot of it.
Tiny black figures darted through the shadows, barely discernable from where I sat, several hundred feet up. I couldn’t see much, but some were definitely running away, the streaks of yellow gunfire chasing them. A few dark gray vehicles rumbled down one of the gravel roads, and sprayed fire into the houses as it went. They were fighting, I realized, the people in the trucks and the locals. It was horrific, like something out of war-torn Afghanistan, but worse.
Then, I caught a glimpse of the others.
They didn’t move like the rest, who either fled from the dark vehicles, or fired back from behind cover. These skinny figures loped along with haphazard gaits, many running on all fours like animals, swarming from the trees by the dozens. They threw themselves into the gales of bullets without flinching, attacking anyone within range, and something about the way they moved, so fluid, so fearless, made my heart skip a beat.
What is that?
“Echo Four Actual to unknown caller, please respond, over.”
Choking back a cry of shock, I fumbled at the control panel with clumsy fingers, the man’s voice sharp and stern. I hadn’t realized that I’d let go of the talking button and clicked it down again. “Hello? Hello, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot out of Pittsburgh, over.”
An excruciating moment passed, and I continued to zoom over the trees, the fires falling away behind me as more silent forest took over.
“Roger that Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, we read you loud and clear. Please identify yourself and any passengers or cargo you might be carrying, over.”
Swallowing hard, I eyed the treetops, which looked much closer than they should have been. How far had I descended? “Echo Four Actual, my name is Christopher Dekker, and I am alone. I’m a charter flight from PA, carrying medical equipment for OSU in Columbus. My controls have been damaged, and I am unable to safely carry on due to the storm. Requesting permission to land, over.”
I watched the landscape slide by underneath me, once catching sight of what looked like a little white church surrounded by smaller huts, dozens of figures in the yard staring up at me as I flew over a towering ridgeline.
“Solid copy on that Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot. Be advised, your transponder shows you to be inside a restricted zone. Please cease all radio traffic, reduce your speed, climb to 3,000 feet and proceed north. We’ll talk you in from there. How copy, over?”
My heart jumped, and I let out a sigh of relief. “Roger that Echo Four Actual, my altimeter is down, but I’ll do my best to eyeball the altitude, over.”
With that, I pulled the collective upward, and tried my best to gauge how far I was by eyesight in the gathering night, rain still coming down all around me. This had to be some kind of disaster or riot, I decided. After all, the voice over the radio sounded like military, and those vehicles seemed to have heavy weapons. Maybe there was some kind of unrest going on here that I hadn’t heard about yet?
Kind of weird for it to happen in rural areas though. Spoiled college kids I get, but never saw farmers get so worked up before. They usually love the military.
Something moved in the corner of my eye, and I turned out of reflex.
My mouth fell open, and I froze, unable to scream.
In the sky beside me, a huge shadow glided along, and its leathery wings effortlessly carved through the gloom, flapping only on occasion to keep it aloft. It was too dark for me to see what color it was, but from the way it moved, I knew it wasn’t another helicopter. No, this thing was alive, easily the size of a small plane, and more than twice the length of my little McDonald Douglass. A long tail trailed behind it, and bore a distinct arrow-shaped snout, with twig-like spines fanned out around the back of its head. Whatever legs it had were drawn up under it like a bird, yet its skin appeared rough and knobby, almost resembling tree bark. Without pause, the gigantic bat-winged entity flew along beside me, as if my presence was on par with an annoying fly buzzing about its head.
Gripping the microphone switch so tight, I thought I’d crack the plastic, I whispered into my headset, forgetting all radio protocol. “T-There’s something up here.”
Static crackled.
“Douglas Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, say again your last, you’re coming in weak and unreadable, over.”
“There’s something up here.” I snarled into the headset, still glued to the controls of the helicopter, afraid to deviate even an inch from my course in case the monstrosity decided to turn on me. “A freaking huge thing, right beside me. I swear, it looks like a bat or . . . I don’t know.”
“Calm down.” The man on the other end of the radio broke his rigorous discipline as well, his voice deep, but level. “It won’t attack if you don’t move too fast. Slowly ease away from it and follow that course until you’re out of sight.”
I didn’t have time to think about how wrong that sounded, how the man’s strict tone had changed to one of knowledge, how he hadn’t been the least surprised by what I’d said. Instead, I slowly turned the helicopter away from the huge menace and edged the speed higher in tiny increments.
As soon as I was roughly two football fields away, I let myself relax, and clicked the mic switch. “It’s not following.”
“You’re sure?”
Eyeing the huge flapping wings, I nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see me. “Yeah, I’m well clear.”
“Good. Thank you, Mr. Dekker.”
Then, the radio went dead.
Something in my chest dropped, a weight that made my stomach roil. This wasn’t right, none of it. Who was that man? Why did he know about the thing I’d just seen? What was I supposed to—
A flash of light exploded from the trees to my right and shot into the air with a long finger of smoke.
What the . . .
On instinct, I jerked the cyclic stick to one side, and the helicopter swung to avoid the rocket.
Boom.
My world shook, metal screeched, and a dozen alarms began to go off inside the cockpit in a cacophony of beeps and sirens. Orange and red flames lit up the night sky just behind me, and the horizon started to spin wildly outside. Heat gushed from the cockpit door, and I smelled the greasy stench of burning oil. The safety belts dug into my shoulders, and with a final slip, the radio headset ripped free from my scalp.
I’m hit.
Desperate, I yanked on the controls, fought the bird even as she spun toward the ground in a wreath of flames, the inky black trees hurtling up to meet me. The helicopter went into full auto-rotation, the sky blurring past outside, and the alarms blared in a screech of doom. Panic slammed through my temples, I screamed at the top of my lungs, and for one brief second, my eyes locked on the little black Garmin still perched atop my control panel.
Its screen stopped twitching and settled on a map of the mysterious Barron County, with a little red arrow at the center of the screen, a few words popping up underneath it.
You are here.
Trees stabbed up into the sky, the belts crushed at my torso, glass shattered all around me, and the world went dark.
Copper, thick, warm, and tangy.
It filled my mouth, stank metallic in my nose, clogged my throat, choking me. In the murkiness, I fought for a surface, for a way out, blind and numb in the dark.
This way, kleineun.
My ouma’s voice echoed from somewhere in the shadows.
This way.
Both eyes flew open, and I gagged, spitting out a stream of red.
Pain throbbed in my ribs, and a heavy pressure sent a tingling numbness through my shoulders. Blood roared inside my temples, and stars danced before my eyes with a dizzying array. Humid night air kissed my skin, and something sticky coated my face, neck, and arms that hung straight up toward the ceiling.
Wait. Not up. Down.
I blinked at the wrinkled, torn ceiling of the cockpit, the glass all gone, the gray aluminum shredded like tissue paper. Just outside the broken windows, thick Appalachian bluegrass and stemmy underbrush swished in a feeble breeze, backlit by flashes of lightning from the thunderstorm overhead. Green and brown leaves covered everything in a wet carpet of triangles, and somewhere nearby, a cricket chirped.
Turning my head from side to side, I realized that I hung upside down inside the ruined helicopter, the top half burrowed into the mud. I could hear the hissing and crackling of flames, the pattering of rain falling on the hot aluminum, and the smaller brush fires around the downed aircraft sizzling out in the damp long grass. Charred steel and burning oil tainted the air, almost as strong as the metallic, coppery stench in my aching nose.
They shot me down. That military dude shot me out of the sky.
It didn’t make sense. I’d followed their orders, done everything they’d said, and yet the instant I veered safely away from whatever that thing in the sky had been, they’d fired, not at it, but at me.
Looking down (or rather, up) at my chest, I sucked in a gasp, which was harder to do that before.
The navy-blue shirt stuck to my torso with several big splotches of dark, rusty red. Most were clean slashes, but two held bits of glass sticking out of them, one alarmingly bigger than the other. They dripped cherry red blood onto my upturned face, and a wave of nausea hit me.
I gotta get down.
I flexed my arms to try and work some feeling back into them, praying nothing was broken. Half-numb from hanging so long, I palmed along my aching body until I felt the buckled for the seat belts.
“Okay.” I hissed between gritted teeth, in an effort to stave off my panic. “You can do this. Just hold on tight. Nice and tight. Here we go . . .”
Click.
Everything seemed to lurch, and I slid off the seat to plummet towards the muck-filled hole in the cockpit ceiling. My fingers were slick with blood and slipped over the smooth faux-leather pilot’s seat with ease. The shoulder belt snagged on the bits of glass that lay just under the left lowest rib, and a flare of white-hot pain ripped through me.
Wham.
I screamed, my right knee caught the edge of the aluminum ceiling, and both hands dove into a mound of leaf-covered glass shards on the opposite side of the hole. My head swam, being right-side-up again enough to make shadows gnaw at the corner of my eyes.
Forcing myself to breath slowly, I fought the urge to faint and slid back to sit on the smooth ceiling. I turned my hands over to see half a dozen bits of clear glass burrowed into my skin like greedy parasites, red blood weeping around the new cuts.
“Screw you.” I spat at the rubbish with angry tears in my eyes. “Screw you, screw you, screw you.”
The shards came out easy enough, and the cuts weren’t that deep, but that wasn’t what worried me. On my chest, the single piece of cockpit glass that remined was almost as big as my palm, and it really hurt. Just touching it felt like self-inflicted torture, but I knew it had to come out sooner or later.
Please don’t nick a vein.
Wiping my hands dry on my jeans, I gripped the shard with both hands, and jerked.
Fire roared over my ribs, and hot blood tickled my already grimy pale skin. I clapped a hand over the wound, pressing down hard, and grunted out a string of hateful expletives that my ouma would have slapped me for.
Lying on my back, I stared around me at the messy cargo compartment of the MD-902. Most of the medical supplies had been in cardboard boxes strapped down with heavy nylon tow-straps, but several cases had ruptured with the force of the impact, spraying bandages, syringes, and pill bottles all over the cluttered interior. Orange flames chewed at the crate furthest to the rear, the tail section long gone, but the foremost part of the hold was intact. Easily a million-dollar mess, it would have made me faint on any other trip, but today it was a godsend.
Half-blind in the darkness, I crawled along with only the firelight and lightning bolts to guide me, my right knee aching. Like a crippled raccoon, I collected things as I went, conscious of the two pallets of intact supplies weighing right over my head. I’d taken several different first-aid courses with some hunting buddies of mine, and the mental reflexes kicked in to help soothe my frazzled mind.
Check for bleeds, stop the worst, then move on.
Aside from my battered chest and stomach, the rest of me remained mostly unharmed. I had nasty bruises from the seatbelts, my right knee swelled, my nose slightly crooked and crusted in blood, but otherwise I was intact. Dowsing every scratch and cut with a bottle of isopropyl alcohol I found, I used butterfly closures on the smaller lacerations that peppered my skin. I wrapped soft white gauze over my abused palms and probed at the big cut where the last shard had been, only stopping when I was sure there were no pieces of glass wedged inside my flesh.
“Not too bad.” I grunted to myself, trying to sound impassive like a doctor might. “Rib must have stopped it. Gonna need stitches though. That’ll be fun.”
Pawing through the broken cases, I couldn’t find any suture chord, but just as I was about to give up, I noticed a small box that read ‘medical skin stapler’.
Bingo.
I tore the small white plastic stapler free from its packaging and eyeballed the device. I’d never done this before, only seen it in movies, and even though the cut in my skin hurt, I wondered if this wouldn’t be worse.
You’ve gotta do it. That bleeding needs to stop. Besides, no one’s coming to rescue you, not with those rocket-launching psychos out there.
Taking a deep breath, I pinched the skin around the gash together, and pressed the mouth of the stapler to it.
Click.
A sharp sting, like that of a needle bit at the skin, but it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as the cut itself. I worked my way across the two-inch laceration and gave out a sigh of relief when it was done.
“Not going to bleed to death today.” I daubed ointment around the staples before winding more bandages over the wound.
Popping a few low-grade painkillers that tumbled from the cargo, I crawled wriggled through the nearest shattered window into the wet grass.
Raindrops kissed my face, clean and cool on my sweaty skin. Despite the thick cloud cover, there was enough constant lightning strikes within the storm to let me get glimpses of the world around me. My helicopter lay on its back, the blades snapped like pencils, with bits and pieces of it burning in chunks all around the small break in the trees. Chest-high scrub brush grew all around the low-lying ground, with pockets of standing water in places. My ears still rang from the impact of the crash, but I could start to pick up more crickets, frogs, and even some nocturnal birds singing into the darkness, like they didn’t notice the huge the hulk of flaming metal that had fallen from the sky. Overhead, the thunder rumbled onward, the feeble wind whistling, and there were other flashes on the horizon, orange and red ones, with crackles that didn’t sound quite like lightning.
The guns. They’re still fighting.
Instinctively, I pulled out my cellphone, and tapped the screen.
It fluttered to life, but no matter how I tried, I couldn’t get through to anyone, not even with the emergency function designed to work around having no service. The complicated wonder of our modern world was little better than a glorified paperweight.
Stunned, I sat down with my back to the helicopter and rested my head against the aluminum skin of the craft. How I’d gone from a regular medical supply run to being marooned in this hellish parody of rural America, I didn’t know, but one thig was certain; I needed a plan. Whoever fired the missile could have already contacted my charter company and made up some excuse to keep them from coming to look for me. No one else knew I was here, and even though I now had six staples holding the worst of my injuries shut, I knew I needed proper medical attention. If I wanted to live, I’d have to rescue myself.
My bag. I need to get my go-bag, grab some gear and then . . . head somewhere else.
It took me a while to gather my green canvas paratrooper bag from its place behind the pilot’s seat and fill it with whatever supplies I could scrounge. My knee didn’t seem to be broken, but man did it hurt, and I dreaded the thought of walking on it for miles on end. I focused instead on inventorying my gear and trying to come up with a halfway intelligent plan of action.
I had a stainless-steel canteen with one of those detachable cups on the bottom, a little fishing kit, some duct tape, a lighter, a black LED flashlight with three spare batteries, a few tattered road maps with a compass, a spare pair of socks, medical supplies from the cargo, and a simple forest green plastic rain poncho. I also managed to unearth a functioning digital camcorder my ouma had gotten me for Christmas a few years back, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to do any filming in such a miserable state. Lastly, since it was a private supply run from a warehouse area near Pittsburgh to a direct hospital pad in Ohio, I’d been able to bring my K-Bar, a sturdy, and brutally simple knife designed for the Marine Corps that I used every time I went camping. It was pitiful in comparison to the rifle I wished I had with me, but that didn’t matter now. I had what I had, and I doubted my trusty Armalite would have alleviated my sore knee anyway.
Clicking on my flashlight, I huddled with the poncho around my shoulders inside the wreck of the chopper and peered at the dusty roadmaps. A small part of me hoped that a solution would jump out from the faded paper, but none came. These were all maps of western PA and eastern Ohio. None of them had a Barron County on them anywhere.
The man on the radio said to head north, right before they shot me down. That means they must be camped out to the north of here. South had that convoy and those burning houses, so that’s a no-go. Maybe I can backtrack eastward the way I came.
As if on cue, a soft pop echoed from over the eastern horizon, and I craned to look out the helicopter window, spotting more man-made flashes over the tree tops.
“Great.” I hissed between clenched teeth, aware of how the temperature dipped to a chilly 60 degrees, and how despite the conditions, my stomach had begun to growl. “Not going that way, are we? Westward it is.”
Walking away from my poor 902 proved to be harder than I’d anticipated. Despite the glass, the fizzling fires, and the darkness, it still held a familiar, human essence to it. Sitting inside it made me feel secure, safe, even calm about the situation. In any other circumstance, I would have just stayed with the downed aircraft to wait for help, but I knew the men who shot me down would likely find my crash site, and I didn’t want to be around when they did.
Unlike much of central and western Ohio, southeastern Ohio is hilly, brushy, and clogged with thick forests. Thorns snagged at my thin poncho and sliced at my pant legs. My knee throbbed, every step a form of self-inflicted torture. The rain never stopped, a steady drizzle from above just cold enough to be problematic as time went on, making me shiver. Mud slid under my tennis shoes, and every tree looked ten times bigger in the flickering beam of my cheap flashlight. Icy fear prickled at the back of my neck at some of the sounds that greeted me through the gloom. I’d been camping loads of times, both in Pennsylvania and elsewhere, but these noises were something otherworldly to me.
Strange howls, screeches, and calls permeated the rain-soaked sky, some almost roars, while others bordered on human in their intonation. The more I walked, the softer the distant gunfire became, and the more prevalent the odd sounds, until the shadows seemed to fill with them. I didn’t dare turn off my flashlight, or I’d been completely blind in the dark, but a little voice in the back of my head screamed that I was too visible, crunching through the gloomy forest with my long beam of light stabbing into the abyss. It felt as though a million eyes were on me, studying me, hunting me from the surrounding brush, and I bitterly recalled how much I’d loved the old Survivor Man TV series as a kid.
Not so fun being out in the woods at night. Especially alone.
A twig snapped somewhere behind me, and I whirled on the spot, one trembling hand resting on the hilt of my K-Bar.
Nothing. Nothing but trees, bushes, and rain dripping down in the darkness.
“This is stupid.” I whispered to myself to keep my nerves in check as I slowly spun on the spot. “I should have went eastward anyway. God knows how long I’m going to have to—”
Creak.
A groan of metal-on-metal echoed from somewhere to my right, and I spun to face it, yanking the knife on my belt free from its scabbard. It felt so small and useless in my hand, and I choked down a wave of nauseas fear.
Ka-whump. Creak. K-whump. Creak.
Underbrush cracked and crunched, a few smaller saplings thrashed, and from deep within the gloom, two yellow orbs flared to life. They poked through the mist in the trees, forming into slender fingers of golden light that swept back and forth in the dark.
The soldiers . . . they must be looking for me.
I swallowed hard and turned to slink away.
Ice jammed through my blood, and I froze on the spot, biting my tongue to stop the scream.
It stood not yards away, a huge form that towered a good twelve feet tall in the swirling shadows. Unpolished chrome blended with flash-rusted spots in the faded red paint, and grime-smeared glass shone with dull hues in the flashes of lightning. Where the wheels should have been, the rounded steel axels curved like some enormous hand had bent them, and the tires lay face-down on the muddy ground like big round feet, their hubcaps buried in the dirt. Dents, scrapes, and chips covered the battered thing, and its crooked little radio antenna pointed straight up from the old metal fender like a mast. I could barely make out the mud-coated VW on the rounded hood, and my mind reeled in shock.
Is . . . is that a car?
Both yellow headlights bathed me in a circle of bright, blinding light, and neither I nor the strange vehicle moved.
Seconds ticked by, the screech-thumping in the background only growing closer. I realized that I couldn’t hear any engine noises and had yet to see any soldiers or guns pointed my way. This car looked old, really old, like one of those classic Volkswagen Beetles that collectors fought over at auctions. Try as I might, I couldn’t see a driver inside the murky, mold-smeared windows.
Because there wasn’t one.
Lightning arched across the sky overhead, and the car standing in front of me blinked.
Its headlights slid shut, as if little metal shades had crawled over the bulbs for a moment and flicked open again. Something about that movement was so primal, so real, so lifelike, that every ounce of self-control I had melted in an instant.
Cursing under my breath, I lunged into the shrubs, and the world erupted around me.
Under my shoes, the ground shook, and the car surged after me in a cacophony of ka-thumps that made my already racing heart skip several beats. A weather-beaten brown tow truck from the 50’s charged through the thorns to my left, it’s headlights ablaze, and a dilapidated yellow school bus rose from its hiding place in the weeds to stand tall on four down-turned axel-legs. They all flicked their headlights on like giants waking from their slumber, and as I dodged past them, they each blared their horn into the night in alarm.
My breaths came short and tight, my knee burned, and I crashed through thorns and briars without thought to how badly I was getting cut up.
The cheap poncho tore, and I ripped it away as it caught on a tree branch.
A purple 70’s Mustang shook off its blanket of creeping vines and bounded from a stand of trees just ahead, forcing me to swerve to avoid being run over, my adrenaline at all-time highs.
This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.
Slipping and sliding, I pushed through a stand of multiflora rose, and stumbled out into a flat, dark expanse.
I almost skidded to a stop.
What had once been a rather large field stood no taller than my shoestrings, the grass charred, and burnt. The storm above illuminated huge pieces of wreckage that lay scattered over the nearly 40-acre plot, and I could just make out the fire-blackened hulk of a fuselage resting a hundred yards away. The plane had been brought down a while ago it seemed, as there weren’t any flames left burning, and I threw myself toward it in frenzied desperation.
Burned grass and greasy brown topsoil slushed underfoot, and I could hear the squelching of the cars pursing me. Rain soaked me to the bone, and my lungs ached from sucking down the damp night air. A painful stich crept into my side, and I cursed myself for not putting in more time for cardio at the gym.
Something caught my left shoelace, and I hurtled to the ground, tasting mud and blood in between my teeth.
They’ve got me now.
I clawed at the mud, rolled, and watched a tire slam down mere inches from where my head had been. The Mustang loomed over me and jostled for position with the red Volkswagen and brown tow truck, the school bus still a few yards behind them. They couldn’t seem to decide who would get the pleasure of stomping me to death, and like a herd of stampeding wildebeest, they locked bumpers in an epic shoving match.
On all fours, I scampered out from under the sparring brutes, and dashed for the crumpled airplane, a white-painted DC-3 that looked like it had been cut in half by a gargantuan knife blade. I passed a snapped wing section, the oily remains of a turbo-prop engine, and a mutilated wheel from the landing gear. Climbing over a heap of mud, I squeezed into the back of the ruined flight cabin and dropped down into the dark cargo hold.
Wham.
No sooner had my sneakers hit the cold metal floor, and the entire plane rocked from the impact of something heavy ramming it just outside. I tumbled to my knees, screaming in pain as, once again, I managed to bash the sore one off a bracket in the wall.
My hand smeared in something gooey, and I scrabbled for my flashlight.
It clicked on, a wavering ball of white light in the pitch darkness, and I fought the urge to gag. “Oh man . . .”
Three people, or what was left of them, lay strewn over the narrow cargo area. Claret red blood coated the walls, caked on the floor, and clotted under my mud-spattered shoes. Bits of flesh and viscera were stuck to everything, and tatters of cloth hung from exposed sections of broken bone. An eerie set of bloody handprints adorned the walls, and the only reason I could tell it had been three people were the shoes; all of them bore anklebones sticking out above blood-soaked socks. It smelled sickly sweet, a strange, nauseas odor that crept into my nose and settled on the back of my tongue like an alien parasite.
Something glinted in the beam of my flashlight, and my pulse quickened as I pried the object loose from the severed arm that still clung to it.
“Hail Mary full of Grace.” I would have grinned if it weren’t for the fact that the plane continued to buck and roll under the assault from the cars outside.
The pistol looked old, but well-maintained, aside from the light coating of dark blood that stained its round wooden handle. It felt heavy, but good in my hand, and I turned it over to read the words, Waffenfabrik Mauser stenciled into the frame, with a large red 9 carved into the grip. For some reason, it vaguely reminded me of the blasters from Star Wars.
I fumbled with a little switch that looked like a safety on the back of the gun and stumbled toward a gap in the plane’s dented fuselage to aim out at the surrounding headlights.
Bang.
The old gun bucked reliably in my hand, its long barrel spitting a little jet of flame into the night. I had no idea if I hit anything, but the attacking cars recoiled, their horns blaring in confusion.
They turned, and scuttled for the tree line as fast as their mechanical legs could go, the entire ordeal over as fast as it had begun.
Did I do that?
Perplexed, I stared down at the pistol in my hand.
Whoosh.
A large, inky black shadow glided down from the clouds, and the yellow school bus moved too slow to react in time.
With a crash, the kicking nightmarish vehicle was thrown onto its side, spraying glass and chrome trim across the muddy field. Its electro-synth horn blared with wails of mechanical agony, as two huge talon-like feet clamped down on it, and the enormous head of the flying creature lowered to rip open its engine compartment.
The horn cut out, and the enormous flying entity jerked its head back to gulp down a mass of what looked like sticky black vines from the interior of the shattered bus.
At this range, I could see now that the flying creature bore two legs and had its wings half-tucked like a vulture that had descended to feed on roadkill. Its head turned slightly, and in the glow of another lightning bolt, my jaw went slack at the realization of what it was.
A tree trunk. It’s a rotted tree trunk.
I couldn’t tell where the reptilian beast began, and where the organic tree components ended, the upper part of the head shaped like a log, while the lower jaw resembled something out of a dinosaur movie. Its skin looked identical to the outside of a shagbark hickory but flexed with a supple featheriness that denoted something closer to skin. Sharp branch-like spines ranged down its back, and out to the end of its tail, which bore a massive round club shaped like a diseased tree-knot. Crouched on both hind legs, it braced the hooked ends of its folded wings against the ground like a bat, towering higher than a semi-truck. Under the folds of its armored head, a bulging pair of chameleon-like eyes constantly spun in their sockets, probing the dark for threats while it ate.
One black pupil locked onto the window I peered through, and my heart stopped.
The beast regarded me for a moment, with a curious, sideways sniff.
With a proud, contemptful head-toss, the shadow from the sky parted rows of razor-sharp teeth to let out a roar that shook the earth beneath my feet. It was the triumphant war cry of a creature that sat at the very top of the food chain, one that felt no threat from the fragile two-legged beings that walked the earth all around it. It hunted whenever it wanted, ate whatever it wanted, and flew wherever it wanted. It didn’t need to rip the plane apart to devour me.
Like my hunter-gatherer ancestors from thousands of years ago, I wasn’t even worth the energy it would take to pounce.
I’m hiding in the remains of the cockpit now, which is half-buried under the mud of the field, enough to shield the light from my screen so that thing doesn’t see it. My service only now came back, and it’s been over an hour since the winged beast started in on the dead bus. I don’t know when, or how I’m going to get out of here. I don’t know when anyone will even see this post, or if it will upload at all. My phone battery is almost dead, and at this point, I’m probably going to have to sleep among the corpses until daylight comes.
A dead man sleeping amongst friends.
If you live in the Noble County area in southeastern Ohio, be careful where you drive, fly, and boat. I don’t know if it’s possible to stumble into this strange place by ground, but if so, then these things are definitely headed your way.
If that happens . . . pray that they don’t find you.

submitted by RandomAppalachian468 to u/RandomAppalachian468 [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 20:25 No_Cardiologist_8532 Fanfic: Slave of Thrones Part XV

It was dawn when the iron doors beneath the Red Keep, in the torchlit dungeons far below the main castle, when one of the doors that led to the exit tunnels that emptied into Blackwater Bay was shoved open. A Weequay guard fell forward, his throat slit, his corpse slamming down on the cobblestones. Jon Snow loomed in the doorway behind the dead alien, his sword slick with the guard's blood. He wiped his brow and said, "Thank you" to the dead man before kicking him aside and dragging himself forward.
Jon had spent the night slowly making his way toward the Red Keep, creeping among alleyways and the ruins of houses to avoid patrols of guards or droids. He had eventually managed to ambush a guard and take the Weequay hostage. Jabba's men, as it turned out, were cowardly when faced with someone stronger than they and the guard had been all too eager to lead Jon to a secret entrance into the dungeons to save his own hide. It hadn't saved him, of course, and Jon had taken a grim sense of pleasure in slitting the man's throat when he thought himself safe.
Jon grabbed a torch from the wall and removed it. With Longclaw in one hand and the torch in his other, he stumbled forward, his pace slow, every muscle in his body demanding he lie down and rest, collapse into the blissful state of unconsciousness. Jon ignored them and pushed them aside, forcing himself forward. Daenerys needed him. And he wouldn't give up, not for anything, until he had wrested her from the grasp of Jabba the Hutt.
He walked for sometime, nothing to join him in this march toward the slimy overlord of King's Landing but his own footsteps. However, coming to a passage he suddenly heard whispering around the corner. Halting and keeping to the shadows, his black leather of the Night's Watch keeping him well hidden, Jon peeked around the corner and looked to the source of the noises.
To his surprise, he saw someone he didn't think was still among the ranks of the living. Cersei Lannister was on her feet inside a cell, the door ajar. Her once proud dressed had been reduced to tatters, exposed her bosom and bountiful flesh beneath. Her hair was a wild mess and her features curled in disgust as a creature loomed over her. Jon narrowed his eyes, beholding the hideous form of Bib Fortuna, the loathsome Twi'Lek looming over Cerseri. One of his dexterous clawed hands was stroking her face, lithe fingers dancing through the locks of her golden hair. His pants were lowered, his stiff erection shoved inches from her pretty face, a lecherous grin upon his fanged features.
"Jabba may get to pamper his lusts with the four beauties upstairs," Fortuna hissed at Cersei. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and jerked it backwards, Cersei giving a cry as her lips were forced to meet the tip of Fortuna's quivering member. "But I have you all to myself."
"How lucky." Cersei spitefully hissed through clenched teeth, gazing upon his cock with a truly disgusted expression. Jon grimaced, his gloved hand curling around Longclaw's hilt. As much as he'd like to leave the Lannister bitch to her fate, there was no honor in letting Cersei be raped by this monster. No one deserved that, not even her.
So Jon Snow burst from the shadows and gave a whistle. Fortuna spun around with a snake-like hiss, releasing Cersei. His eyes widened and he fumbled for his communicator, a cry of "Guards-" slipping from his lips.
Which was soon silenced as Jon buried his blade in the foul Majordomo's heart. The momentum carried Bib Fortuna backwards, blood spewing from his fetid lips, his red eyes wide with horror. His hands scrambled at Jon's chest, clutching desperately to hold onto life. Fortuna gurgled and sputtered before Jon ripped Longclaw free in a spray of alien blood. Fortuna's corpse slid down the bars and crumbled to the floor, the Majordomo dying a most undignified death.
Cersei instantly scrambled to her feet, clutching the remains of her dress to cover her nakedness. She looked at Jon, her rescuer, to Fortuna's corpse with surprise. A myriad of emotions went through the woman's face before she finally locked eyes with Jon and snarked,
"Well, well. I never thought I'd be saved by a bastard. Much less a Stark."
"And I never thought I'd be rescuing a incestuous bitch but here I am," Jon snarked right back, turning to face his longtime foe. "You're welcome, by the way."
"What, you want a thank you?" Cersei chuckled, her lips twisting in a humorless smile. "Please. I haven't lost ALL my dignity. I didn't think you were still alive."
"I feel dead and sometimes I wish I was," Jon grimaced, hand clutching his sword tightly. "But Daenerys is up there. She needs me. I won't fail her as I did my men."
"Oh yes...you're the serious one, duty bound and all that," Cersei clicked her tongue. "I guess sticking your cock in that dragon whore really-"
Jon raised his blade warningly, its tip right against her throat. A dark expression was upon his features as he said, icy calm but with a terrifying tone, "I've had a long day. I've thought about killing you many times over these years, you and your entire fucking family. Don't push your luck. I promise I won't hesitate if any more foul words slip from these serpentine lips of yours."
Cersei eyed the sword and swallowed. She could see Jon wasn't kidding. "Perhaps," She said, managing to speak as Longclaw continued to press against her throat. "I can help you. You know, a reward for saving me from that foul pervert."
"I only want one thing." Jon moved closer and his teeth clenched. When he spoke, it was with the fierceness that the North was known for and even Cersei cowered before the wild fury of Jon Snow.
"Where is Jabba the Hutt?"
***********************************************************************************
Jabba normally slept very late until at least noon, sleeping off nights of debauchery and partying. But this day he rose early, perhaps emboldened by his orgy with his four slavegirls last night. And so, in the early hours of the morning, Jabba guided his dais back to the throne room, taking his usual spot before the Iron Throne. He was absolutely giddy, his ego and pride soaring to new heights. Enough time had been spent in King's Landing. It was time to expand his empire even further, beyond the boundaries of Westeros! A Hutt's greed was never satisfied. Jabba needed more. More lands to grind under his slimy heel. More riches to wrest from the hands of kings and queens. More women to defile...although he didn't think any would match his four personal pets. But his harem needed more bodies, not just for himself, but his men who shared in a fraction of lusts and perverted personality. More!
His slavegirls were lying before him in various positions. Within the curl of Jabba's mighty tail were Arya and Margaery. Margaery lay against the side of his girthy appendage, deliberately grinding her perky ass into the slimy folds of the the huge thing that surrounded her. Arya, meanwhile, was lying on Margaery, her head cushioned against Margaery's impressive bosom. Margaery was petting Arya's short black hair, running her dexterous, soft fingers through it as she looked at the throne room before her. Arya was stone faced but seemed to be grudgingly enjoying the attention and made so room to escape Margaery's grasp, their leashes intertwining in a pile as they flowed down the sides of their bodies into the nest of pillows cast here and there across Jabba's dais.
Meanwhile, Sansa and Daenerys were standing on either side of Jabba, their skirts fluttering in the small morning breeze passing through the open window in the throne room. Jabba cooed as he admired their luscious backsides and round, firm asses barely hidden by their fluttering, long slavegirl skirts. Sansa seemed more composed than Daenerys, the Stark sister staring ahead with a stoic expression, occasionally betraying her humiliation at Jabba's eyes on her with nervous licks of her ruby red lips. Daenerys, meanwhile, glowered openly at Jabba, throwing glares over her bare shoulder at the Hutt repeatedly. Jabba just laughed, Daenerys's defiance amusing him and arousing him. His tail flopped and wiggled next to Sansa's booted feet, as he lightly played with the chains of Sansa and Daenerys clutched in his fat fist.
"Summon Fortuna!" Jabba boomed, slamming his free fist onto the side of his throne, rattling the bowl full of frogs. Juices of water escaped the aquarium and splattered on Daenerys, the last Targaryan giving a startled squeal of disgust. "It is time to plot my battle strategy for CONQUERING the rest of this planet, ho ho ho! Soon, the Empire of Jabba shall stretch not to one measly continent but the entire world. All shall worship me, all shall serve MY desires."
"Yes, my lord," A Goldcloak bowed to Jabba before turning to find Fortuna in the room he had taken over within the depths of the palace. Jabba purred in pleasure, thrusting his free hand into the bowl and snatching up a screaming frog.
Margaery's eyes glistened with intelligence. She continued to pet Arya's hair non-chalantly but her eyes studied the throne room carefully. At this early hour, there were limited guards, only a smittering handful around. A few alien men armed with vibro pikes and blasters, along with two or three Goldcloaks. The Goldcloaks Margaery wasn't worried about. If this plan worked, then they might throw aside their forced loyalty to Jabba and help them. As for the others...well, with luck either the Goldcloaks or Arya would deal with them.
The plan, as she had come up with, had come from careful observations during her time of the palace, as well as information gained from Jabba's men she had quite literally milked for information. Jabba was a Hutt and although he looked like the very picture of a slovenly, fat bastard, in truth his hide was packed with layers of muscle. His hide was resistant to blaster fire and he could even shrug off injuries that might fell a normal human. The only past his layers of defenses was his neck. For Jabba to die, he'd need to be strangled to death. There were other options of course but none Margaery had access to. And of course, she couldn't exactly strangle Jabba with her bare hands.
But Jabba had leashed them all, with iron chains for Sansa and Daenerys and long fibro leashes for her and Arya. If they worked together...all four of them could wrap their chains around Jabba's foul neck and strangle their master to death.
A bold plan, mad perhaps, perhaps doomed to failure. But it was the best one Margaery's clever mind had come up with. The other girls had agreed, each desiring freedom from their abusive lord. If they distracted him and caught him unawares...this just might work.
Margaery whispered in Arya's ear, pulling locks of black hair aside as her dainty lips whispered in the Stark girl's ear: "Let's begin." Arya grimaced, Margaery understanding why. None of them were particularly ready for what this entailed. But it was necessary. Jabba was ruled by lust, like any other man. So...to distract him, they needed to seduce him. To pretend to willingly give into his foul charms. To appreciate him, as he had so often taunted them with.
But before Margaery or Arya could signal the other two girls, the door to the hall was suddenly kicked open. Guards jolted and raised their blasters, Goldcloaks forming ranks and drawing swords. Jabba made a blubbery noise of confusion, his tail slapping against Sansa's leg as he looked to the front of the throne room, eyes narrowing.
Sansa was the first to react, a gasp escaping her lips. Daenerys next. Both of them exclaimed, in absolute delight at the same time, "Jon!" Arya instantly burst free from Margaery's bosom and crawled forward, a grin splitting her lips as she went to the edge of the dais. Margaery raised a quizzical eyebrow before pushing aside her and Arya's leashes, leaning over Jabba's huge tail to peek at what lay ahead.
Jon Snow stood in the threshold, Longclaw at his side, Bib Fortuna's blood splattering upon the cobblestones. His eyes went to each of the girls and he felt his heart swell with fury. He gazed upon Sansa, his lovely sister, so innocent and sweet, the pride of the Stark family. Now dressed in a horribly skimpy outfit even a Flea Bottom wench would sniff at her, a chain around her neck like some dog! She smiled at him but he could see the pain in her eyes and he shuddered to think about what Jabba had done to her.
And then there was Arya, someone wearing even less than Sansa, garbed in a fishnet outfit that hugged her athletic curves and long legs while leaving nothing to the imagination. She also grinned at Jon, genuine happiness on her expression even through the black makeup that decorated her face. Jon's fury grew as he could see she was leashed too.
And the apex of his rage. Daenerys, his love, the proud conqueror, dressed in a similar skimpy garb to Sansa's and also chained at the neck. Daenerys smirked at him and put her hands on her wide hips. Jon swallowed slightly, trying not to be distracted with how her long white skirts fluttered between her curvy thighs or how well framed her bosom looked stuffed into that metal bra. He could see a glimpse of a final grin, decorate in green straps with long hair, also leashed but he didn't know her and paid her no mind.
"Jon Snow," Daenerys said with a chuckle, some of her old humor returning upon seeing her lover. "What took you so long?"
Jon tried to smile back but it wasn't easy, the sight of his sisters and lover in bondage was fanning the fires of his already wrathful mood. "Well, I had a few houses dropped on me," He said, his eyes dancing to the aliens and Goldcloaks who now formed a blockage to Jabba's throne. "But I'm here now, my queen."
Daenerys grinned and tried to speak further. But Jabba growled angrily and PULLED savagely at the chains he clutched. With a violent yank, Sansa and Daenerys were pulled off their feet with a cry, falling with a squish into the depths of their master's enormous gut. Jabba kept pulling, Sansa and Daenerys clutching at the collars as they were violently strangled, thrashing and squirming on their master's doughy, slimy gut. Sansa's booted heels scrambled for purchase at the edge of the throne, her wriggling causing her red skirt to flip this way and that, offering glimpses of her cunt beneath them. Daenerys meanwhile PULLED desperately at her collar, coughing and gasping for air but even her own strength proved useless against Jabba's dominant hand as usual and she was left squirming desperately for relief on his fat belly.
Arya snarled at Jabba, her bravery returning at the sight of Jon. She moved to lunge at him to stop him from abusing her sister but Margaery quickly grabbed her arm, stopping the younger Stark sister. Arya snarled at Margaery, hissing: "Let me go! We should act now!"
"Not yet," Margaery growled, pursing her lips. Arya stopped, sensing the firmness in Margaery's tone as Margaery guided her back into the curl of Jabba's huge tail. "An opportunity will present itself...but not yet. I'm afraid this man has just blown my plan wide open."
"That's my brother!" Arya bit back. She whirled around, twisting to watch the ongoing confrontation. "Just you watch, he's going to kick this slug's fat ass!"
"So!" Jabba growled, his booming voice filling the chamber. He relaxed his grip on his slave's chains. "A member of Daenerys's little army survived, hmm?" He laughed, recovering from his initial shock. This was just one man and he was severely outnumbered. Sansa and Daenerys tried to rise from his belly, to pull away from the layers of their master's slimy fat, but he pulled them back, his tail thrashing beside Sansa's thigh.
"Survived and more," Jon said, raising Longclaw which caught the glint of the torches. "I'm here for my sisters and Daenerys, Jabba. Release them and begone from Westeros. Take your army of monsters back to the stars. This land will never yield to you."
Jabba erupted with laughter, a laugh taken up by his guards. His tail slithered forward and wrapped around Sansa's leg like an exploring serpent, Jabba giving her succulent thigh a firm squeeze with the appendage. Meanwhile, his other hand began to stroke Daenerys's hair, roaming through her unique white locks, twisting and playing with them between his sausage-like fingers, so soft in contrast to his rubbery, filthy hide. Both girls moaned in disgust, Sansa offering no resistance as the tail coiled around her leg while Daenerys slapped ineffectually at Jabba's bloated hand. Jon's face turned purple with rage at the sight of the two women being molested by the fat slug.
"This land has already yielded, I possess strength of arms and technology far beyond this primitive planet!" Jabba spewed back at Jon, slime spewing from the depths of his rotund maw to shower his slavegirls. "You, boy, have made a very foolish mistake. I admire your courage and your tenacity to sneak into MY palace..." Jabba paused for emphasis, before wrapping one chubby arm around Sansa and Daenerys both. He cuddled them together, his tongue emerging to give Daenerys's cheek a slobbery lick with his slimy, girthy tongue while his tail squeezed Sansa's thigh possessively, its tip teasing her skirts, a thin layer of cloth all that separated her lady parts from being violated once more by the monstrous member. The two girls moaned in horror as Jabba cuddled them, looking at Jon with desperate, pleading eyes.
"I will NOT give up my favorite decorations," Jabba growled, waving his chain wielding hand at all four women, the chains of Sansa and Daenerys clanking with the motion. "I like Sansa, Daenerys, Margaery, and Arya where they are. And now..." Jabba licked his scum coated lips and laughed. "And now, boy, they get to watch you DIE.'
Jabba pointed one fat finger at Jon and barked to the small amount of guards in the room, outnumbering Jon eight to one:
"KILL HIM! Bring me his head!"

submitted by No_Cardiologist_8532 to slaveleiaandjabba [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 20:20 JacobviBritannia I don't know how to explain what happened to me at Sunset Grove

For a long time, I thought there was no greater feeling of dread than clocking into a job you hate. Three days a week after school and every other weekend, there I was, standing in front of the time clock at Sunset Grove. By the time I was sixteen, my parents told me that I had to find a job and start working. Unfortunately, there weren’t many options for a sixteen-year-old looking for work in Driftwood. It was either fast food, retail, or a retirement home. For whatever reason, I chose the retirement home.
It’s not that I had a problem with starting work at that age, it’s just that scrubbing pureed vegetables and mashed potatoes off fifty plates a night, with the cook yelling over my shoulder to pick up the pace, wasn’t exactly fulfilling work. The pocket money was nice, though. There’s nothing better than being a teenager with almost nothing but disposable income.
I watched the digital clock tick over from 3:59 to 4:00, begrudgingly typed in my employee ID, and made my way to the kitchen. As always, there was a stack of dishes left over from the shift before mine that would leave me playing catch-up for the rest of the night.
Becca, a thirty-something waitress with pale skin and a slim figure, swept through the doors as I was working through my stack. She was the only member of the wait staff I knew who could manage to keep a sunny disposition no matter how bad the day got.
Her shoulders seemed to relax a little when she saw me. “Hey, Arty, I need glasses.”
“Got it,” I replied.
“Thank you!” she said in a sing-song voice as she picked up a tub of silverware and rushed back out the doors. The wait staff was always in a rush this time of day. They only had about a half-hour to set the tables before some of the early-birds started showing up for dinner.
I loaded a tray with glasses and sent them through the commercial steam washer to my left, pulling the hood down with a heavy metal clunk. Once they were done, Becca came through and took the tray out to the dining room.
Before long, the cook began setting out room service trays. I never understood why it was the dishwasher’s job to deliver room service, but nevertheless, I began loading the trays into my cart. Most room service orders came from the same residents, which meant I’d long since worked out the most efficient way to load the cart. As I was loading, I noticed one of my regulars, room 2H, was missing. It could have been that she just decided to have dinner in the dining room today, but as long as I’d been working at Sunset Grove, I’d never known 2H to have dinner anywhere but her room.
As I walked down the hallway past 2H, I realized why. There on the door was a small laminated sign with a photo of the woman who’d lived in 2H.
Lilith Holmes 1928 - 2014
That was it. Just a name and a pair of dates. Not even a “Rest in Peace.” But it got the point across. I felt a tinge of guilt at the fact that I hadn’t known the woman’s name. I’d been working at Sunset Grove for a year, and I still referred to most of the residents by their room numbers.
This wasn’t the first of these types of signs I’d seen. There had been two or three deaths in the past year, each one memorialized with a cheap laminated sign that would be taken down after a week or two. It may sound callous, but I was never bothered by the deaths. They were simply a fact of life working in a place full of people entering the final phase of their lives. It helped that I didn’t make much effort to get close to the residents. I never wanted this place to bleed into what I considered to be my real life, so whenever I was at Sunset Grove, I was in “work mode.” I would put on a kind face, greet coworkers and residents with a smile, and otherwise speak only when spoken to. It was easier that way.

Room 2H stayed empty for a month. The sign, as they always do, disappeared after a while. I wondered if that meant they’d already cleaned out all of Mrs. Holmes’s belongings or if they were still entombed behind that locked door.
Eventually, the day came that I had a room service tray for room 2H again. It seemed so sudden. I hadn’t heard anything about a new resident moving in. I shrugged it off and loaded the tray onto my cart, thinking it must have happened on one of my days off. I hoped the new tenant wouldn’t be a handful. I may not have known Mrs. Holmes well, but she was always nice and courteous to me when I brought her her food. It’s more than I could say for some of the other residents.
I rode the elevator up to the second floor. Room 2H was my second stop from there. I knocked and pushed open the door into the dimly lit room. The blinds were all drawn, and there was only a single table lamp turned on in the corner across the room. I could see the new tenant sitting in a recliner on the opposite wall. It was a woman, with curled white hair that fell to her hunched shoulders. In the dark, I couldn’t make out her face, but her form was familiar. As I got closer, I realized it was Mrs. Holmes sitting in the chair.
I faltered. “I... have your dinner here for you, ma’am,” I stammered.
“Oh, good,” she said. “Set it on the table here, dear.” Her tone was jovial like always, though it felt strained. As if she were forcing it.
I set the tray down on the end table beside her. As she turned to look at it, her eyes seemed to catch the tiny amount of light in the room and glowed for a split second.
“Thank you,” she chimed.
“You’re welcome,” I said, turning on my heel and heading for the door.
I stopped by the second floor nurse’s station on my way down the hall and found Ted inside. He was a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair, known around the facility for his eccentric taste in scrubs. Today’s were navy blue with a messy pattern of stars. Ted was the only nurse I knew by name, mostly because he gave me no other choice. It was common knowledge at Sunset Grove that if Ted wanted to chat you up, there was nothing you could do to stop it.
“Hey, Ted,” I said, poking my head around the door.
“Arthur!” he called, sitting back in his chair. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I saw Mrs. Holmes is back,” I said. “What happened? Why was she gone?”
“Sorry, bud, I shouldn’t really be gossiping about that.”
“I understand. It’s just... there was that sign on her door a while ago. I thought she died.”
“Oh, that,” Ted laughed. “That was a little misunderstanding. But as you saw, she’s alive and well.”
“Right,” I said. “I should go. I’ve still got a cart full of meals to deliver.”
“Best not keep ‘em waiting!” Ted joked as I left the nurse’s station.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Mrs. Holmes for the remainder of my shift that night. How could the nurses make such a drastic mistake, confusing a resident for dead? And where exactly had Mrs. Holmes been for the past month? At the hospital? With family? The whole thing irked me more than it probably should have. I didn’t like thinking about this place during my time off, but thoughts of Mrs. Holmes stuck with me all week.
I delivered room service to her the rest of the week. Each time I entered 2H, the blinds were drawn, the room kept dark. As always, I set her tray down on the end table next to the recliner, she thanked me, and I moved on to the next room.
The next stop on my route was 2K, Ms. Ganz, whose name I only knew because she had a reputation around the building for being very outwardly spoken. There was rarely a week that went by where I wasn’t overhearing the nurses laughing about something Ms. Ganz had said that day.
Most days, Ms. Ganz left her door open. I knocked anyway and passed through the open frame. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, rubbing her temples before she looked up and saw me.
“Set it down right there,” she instructed, pointing to the rolling TV stand where she took her dinner every day.
I did as she said and set the food down on the stand, forcing a smile for good measure. She scooted off the bed and hobbled over to the chair to sit down. I pushed the stand closer to her and lowered it down so she could reach. She examined the tray, then picked up the pudding cup and handed it to me.
“You take that,” she said. “I don’t need it.”
“That’s alright,” I protested. “I don’t need it either.”
Ms. Ganz pawning her desserts off on me was beginning to become a habit. As I tried to set the pudding cup back on the tray, she pushed it back toward me. It clearly wasn’t a fight I was going to win, so I relented and accepted the pudding.
Ms. Ganz got to work preparing her coffee, which she had with every meal. I always loaded her tray with three creams and three sugars, but I’d learned in time to wait until she finished mixing before I left because, more often than not, she’d ask for more.
“Is this decaf?” she asked.
“That’s right,” I said.
She grumbled. “I need caffeine. People keeping me up all night. Knocking on my door.”
“Knocking on your door?”
“Middle of the night,” Ms. Ganz exclaimed. “They come, they knock, I open the door, and they’re gone. My family doesn’t pay $2000 a month for me to get pranked all night long.”
“Have you talked to the nurses about it?” I asked.
She snorted. “They’re probably the ones doing it.” Ms. Ganz winced and reached for her forehead. “Now, I’ve had this headache all day thanks to them.”
“Sorry about that. I hope you feel better,” I said as I made my way out of the room.
It became apparent very quickly Ms. Ganz wasn’t the only resident dealing with these problems. I overheard the nurses talking about multiple residents on the second floor complaining about someone knocking on their door at night. It only got worse throughout the week, with even more residents complaining. There were more complaints of headaches, too. Some residents even started exhibiting symptoms of fever.
When I came to serve Ms. Ganz her dinner a week later, her door was shut. I knocked and turned the handle. It wasn’t locked, so I went inside. Ms. Ganz was lying in bed, a fresh sheen of sweat shimmering in the light across her forehead. She hadn’t even touched her lunch. I quietly swapped the trays, trying not to disturb her and tip-toed out of the room, stopping by the nurses’ station before I got back to work. Ted was there again, wearing a loud, floral-patterned set of scrubs this time.
“Hey, Ted, is Ms. Ganz alright?” I asked.
“She’s just a little under the weather,” he said. “She’s not the only one. There’s some kind of bug going around.”
Ted scooted his chair across the room and pulled something out of a box. He tossed me a medical mask.
“You should probably wear one of these while you’re goin’ into rooms,” he said.
I nodded and put the mask on, leaving Ted to his work. There were four more residents laid up in bed on the second floor. Weirdly, no one on the first or third floor seemed to be affected.
Things only seemed to get worse as the days went on. More and more residents were laid up with fevers. Soon enough, no one on the second floor was healthy enough to go to the dining room, which meant my room service runs were getting longer by the day. Now that I had to deliver trays to every room on the second floor, there was no way I could get it done on my own, but even with Becca helping me with runs, I was still clocking out of work an hour late most nights.
As we rolled the cart up to room 2H, Becca hesitated.
“Do you mind getting this one?” she asked.
I raised an eyebrow. “Sure.”
I had no problem bringing Mrs. Holmes her food. What caught me off guard was the way Becca seemed to give the room a wide berth as we passed and the trepidation in her voice as she spoke.
“Thanks, Arty,” Becca said. “Something about her just creeps me out. Don’t you feel that?”
“It’s a little weird how she sits in the dark all the time,” I admitted, “but I wouldn’t call it creepy.”
“So brave,” Becca teased. “I’ll bring Ms. Ganz her tray and meet you down the hall.”
“Sounds good.”
I knocked on the door and went into 2H. As expected, Mrs. Holmes was seated in her recliner with the blinds drawn and the single lamp on in the corner. Sometimes I wondered if she ever even moved from that spot.
“How are you feeling, Mrs. Holmes?” I asked through the medical mask I was now required to wear at all times while on the second floor.
“Are you a nurse now?” She asked. Her tone seemed intended to be joking, but it came across more accusatory.
“No, it’s just that we can’t seem to get rid of this bug going around. I was just curious if you were still feeling alright.”
“I’m fine,” she said flatly.
Mrs. Holmes was the only resident on the second floor who wasn’t sick. The bug hadn’t spread to any of the staff members either. A thought occurred to me.
“Have you heard anyone knocking on your door at night?” I asked.
Mrs. Holmes’s eyes shot to mine, momentarily glowing in the light as they had once before. She stared at me with wide eyes that seemed to be studying me.
Finally, her tight lips peeled apart and she simply said, “I have not.”
Suddenly, I understood why Becca hadn’t wanted to come in here. I could feel the goose flesh spreading across my arm and a shiver run down my spine. I didn’t want to linger here any longer than I had to.
“Have a good night,” I said, mimicking my usual tone, before hustling out of the room.
I grabbed the cart and pushed it quickly down the hall toward Ms. Ganz’s room where I would find Becca, but as I rounded the corner, I saw a crowd of nurses surrounding the door. Becca was standing off to the side, a distraught look on her face.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I went in to give her her food,” Becca choked out. “Her eyes were open, so I thought she was awake. So, I asked her if she had enough cream and sugar for her coffee, but she didn’t respond.”
“Oh no,” I realized.
“That’s never happened to me before,” Becca said. “I’ve never seen one of them after... after they died. Sorry, Arty, I need to take five. Do you think you can finish this yourself today?”
“That’s fine. I’ve got it.”
Becca laid her hand on my shoulder as she walked away, her other hand combing through her hair.
Becca didn’t come in the next day. With the wait staff being short handed, I had to do the room service deliveries myself. I hesitated before going into 2H, but when I reached for the handle, I was relieved to find that it was locked. Some of the nurses must have been inside, so I left the tray by the door and went on my way.
As I passed by Ms. Ganz’s room, I saw the sign.
Mallory Ganz 1939 - 2014
She was about ten years younger in the photo, smiling next to her daughter. I felt a tug inside my gut and suddenly realized I wanted to know what was happening. Where was this sickness coming from? Why wasn’t it affecting the residents on the first or third floors or the staff? And why was Mrs. Holmes the only resident on the second floor who was still healthy?
I finished delivering trays and stashed the cart in the corner. I figured I had at least ten more minutes before my boss would start wondering where I was, so I found Ted in the nurse’s station.
“Hey, Ted, are you busy?” I asked.
“Never not busy, Arthur,” he grinned. “What can I do for you?”
“You’ve heard the residents complaining about someone knocking on their doors at night, right? Do you have any idea what that might be about?”
He sighed. “Yeah, I’ve heard all about it. Best I can figure, it’s someone screwin’ around on the night shift.”
“Well, there are cameras, right? Couldn’t we find out who’s doing it?”
Ted’s brow furled. “Why are you so interested?”
“I don’t know,” I lied. “I guess it’s just that, whoever it was, they were bothering Ms. Ganz. I thought maybe we could find them and get them to stop to, like, honor her in a way.”
Ted pushed an office chair toward me with his foot. “Sit down a minute. I’ll pull up the footage.”
“Thank you.”
I sat down and watched Ted scrub through last night’s security footage. It was strange seeing the hallway so empty. During the daytime hours, there were constantly nurses or housekeepers coming up and down the halls, but at night, they were dead.
Suddenly, there was a flash of movement on the screen. Ted let go of the mouse and let the footage play out in real-time. I felt my chest tighten as I recognized the figure on the screen. Mrs. Holmes. I watched her walk down the hall, moving with an unnatural weightlessness for her age. She stopped in front of Ms. Ganz’s room and knocked on the door. Then, all of a sudden, she just faded away.
I leaned in closer to the screen. Ted sat upright in his chair.
“Was that a glitch?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “The timecode looks normal, but it must’ve been. Either way, I guess we know who’s been causin’ trouble at night. I’ll have a word with Mrs. Holmes.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I blurted out.
Ted looked at me quizzically. I didn’t know how to explain it, but I knew something was off about Mrs. Holmes. There was no telling what would happen if someone confronted her, but how was I supposed to convince Ted of that?
“Sorry,” I said. “Thanks for the help, Ted.”
I left the nurse’s station without saying another word. I could only hope that my initial warning would be enough to make Ted hesitate until I could figure out what to do next.
My heart dropped when I couldn’t find Ted the next day. He was always there. Every single weekday, he was there.
None of the other nurses had seen him either. Apparently, he hadn’t called out sick or anything. As far as anyone knew, he simply hadn’t shown up for work. But I knew better. I knew he’d gone and talked to Mrs. Holmes, and she’d done something to him. Could he still be there, inside room 2H? Was he still alive? Had he mentioned me?
I worked the first hour of my shift constantly looking over my shoulder. By 5:00, the cook started lining up room service trays. I was on my own again. Apparently, Becca was taking some time off after what she’d been through. I couldn’t blame her, but I found myself desperately wishing I didn’t have to be alone.
My heart thumped with dread every step I took toward room 2H. I prayed the door would be locked again, but no such luck. I pushed the door open slowly and let the light from the hall flood into the dim room. Mrs. Holmes was in her recliner, but as I got closer, I noticed her eyes were shut. She was asleep.
I set the tray down quietly and made for the door, but before I left, I felt curiosity tug me back. I wanted to know what happened to Ted. If there was any trace of him in the room, this might be my only chance to find it.
I inched heel-toe back through the entryway and into the bedroom. I found an antique lamp on the nightstand and flipped it on, bathing the room in a hazy yellow light. The room was pristine, not even a crease in the bedding. I didn’t know what I was looking for. Blood? A body? Just anything that would confirm the insane thoughts that were running through my mind.
I moved to the bathroom, but, like the bedroom, it was spotless. I checked every inch of it, even getting down on my hands and knees to inspect the bath mat for blood stains. I was starting to feel like a lunatic. Maybe everything that was happening was exactly what it seemed, and the rest of it was all just in my head.
Feeling a little ridiculous, I stepped out of the bathroom, gently closing the door behind me.
“What were you doing in there?” Mrs. Holmes’s voice was sharp and sent a jolt of fear through my body.
I turned and saw her standing in the corner by her recliner. She looked tall—her shoulders not slumped like usual, and her eyes were glowing in the light again.
I didn’t know what to say. “S-sorry,” I spat out, then hurried for the door. Mrs. Holmes stood motionless, watching me go.
Thanks to my little investigation, dinner was nearly over by the time I got back to the kitchen, and there was a mountain of dishes waiting for me by the sink. I shook off the unsettling thoughts plaguing my mind and got to work. It was going to be another late night, and it only got worse when the cook brought over a stack of burnt pans that would take ages of scrubbing to get clean.
It was nearly an hour past the end of my shift by the time I’d finally finished all the dishes. The wait staff had clocked out thirty minutes ago. That was fine. I was used to being the last one in the kitchen. It was the dishwasher’s job to clean the floors at the end of the night after everyone else had gone home. That night, though, I should have been scared, but the weight of being alone hadn’t hit me yet. My mind was too preoccupied with work.
I finished mopping the floor, meaning all that was left was to take the trash out to the dumpster. I gathered up all the bags and took them out into the hallway, then out the back door. I set the bags down and propped the door open with a pen. After 8:00, the building locked down, and I would need a keycard to get back in, something the facility didn’t grant to dishwashers.
I hoisted the garbage bags into the dumpster and turned back toward the building. Before I could even take a step back toward the door, though, I heard it clunk into place. I ran over and tugged on the handle. Locked. I’d have to walk all the way around the building and come in the front entrance, probably scaring the hell out of the secretary at the reception desk, who certainly wouldn’t be expecting anyone to come in at this hour.
Crickets chirped loudly in the fields around the parking lot as I rounded the building. There was no one at the reception desk when I walked in. The secretary was probably out having a cigarette somewhere. I walked through the dining room and back into the kitchen, letting the door swing freely behind me. I heard it brush across the frame once, twice, then suddenly stop. I didn’t think much of it until I heard a knock on the door.
My heart froze, fear tightening an ice-cold grip around my throat. I turned and, through the window, saw a pair of glowing eyes on the other side of the door. Ever so slowly, the door started to push inward as Mrs. Holmes crept inside. I felt like I should have screamed in that moment, but nothing came to me. It felt as though my lungs had completely deflated at the sight of her.
She stepped toward me. I stepped back until I felt my back press against the counter behind me. I wanted to run, but something told me I couldn’t outrun whatever was standing in front of me. My hands reached onto the counter and felt for anything I could use to defend myself. I felt the lukewarm touch of the porcelain plates and wrapped my fingers around the rim of one. I waited as Mrs. Holmes inched closer until, finally, I whipped my arm around and smashed the plate against her head.
She wailed and faltered a few steps, buying me enough time to run deeper into the kitchen, toward the knives. She was on me again before I could reach them. I felt a wet sting on my calf and looked down to see her there, latched on with her teeth sinking deep into my flesh.
I fell onto the concrete floor, my left shoulder taking the brunt of the impact. I tried to crawl away but couldn’t break free of her inhuman weight. With my free leg, I kicked at her head as hard as I could until she released me. Her bloodstained mouth hissed at me as I scrambled to my feet.
I ripped the largest knife I could find out of the block and spun around, ready to drive it into Mrs. Holmes’s chest, but she was gone. My eyes flicked frantically around the room, looking for any sign of her. Then I felt something drip onto my cheek. In the reflection of the knife blade, I could see the drop of blood rolling down my cheek. I looked up, and there she was.
She wasn't suspended from the ceiling; she was floating. As soon as I laid eyes on her, she dropped, falling right on top of me. I managed to raise the knife high enough and felt it pierce her gut as she landed on me. I think that was the only thing that saved me from her teeth sinking into my neck.
Mrs. Holmes reeled from the knife wound. She swung her arm out, and I felt the tremendous weight and strength behind it as it crashed into my side and threw me across the room. Pain shot through my back as I collided with the stainless steel of the dishwasher. I knew I couldn’t afford to waste time licking my wounds. I pulled myself up to my feet just as Mrs. Holmes ripped the knife free of her gut. Coagulated blood seeped out of the gaping wound like thick mud.
Mrs. Holmes hunched over like a predator waiting to pounce. My heart raced, waiting for the moment. Like a bolt of lighting, it came. She leapt across the room at me. My instincts kicked in, and I ducked to the right. I heard a loud metallic crash as Mrs. Holmes’s body slammed into the dishwasher. I looked up and saw her top half lodged in the machine. Without even thinking about it, I yanked the lever, sending the hood down just far enough over Mrs. Holmes’s thin body to activate the machine.
She howled and screeched as the steam inside the dishwasher boiled her skin. I didn’t wait around for the cycle to finish. I saddled the pain in my back and my leg and ran out of the kitchen before she had a chance to escape. I didn’t dare look back.

Sunset Grove closed down last year, three years after I left for good that night. I never found out what became of Mrs. Holmes, but I don’t think she ever left. The article detailing Sunset Grove’s closure cites financial difficulty after a spike in mortality rates, and there had been more than one story about staff members going missing over the years. Ted was the first of them. I would have been the second.
For a long time, Sunset Grove haunted me. I would dream about being back in room 2H, cowering under Mrs. Holmes’s impossibly tall form, her skin blistered and rubbery from the burns I gave her. In time, those dreams faded. It hadn’t seemed possible, but my life started to return to a sense of normalcy.
Reading the article on Sunset Grove brought those memories crashing back. I tried to tell myself that I was safe, but... I don’t think I am anymore. Not since I heard a knock on my door the other night. I wanted so badly to believe it was nothing, just neighborhood kids messing around, but my head has been pounding ever since I heard it, my stomach twisted in knots, my breath short. I can’t sleep through the night anymore. I find myself staring out the window, watching. Sometimes, among the twinkling fireflies at the edge of the woods, I could swear I see a pair of glowing eyes watching me in the dark.

submitted by JacobviBritannia to nosleep [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 19:54 CIAHerpes I worked as a park ranger in Alaska. There were inhuman things living in the vast wilderness (part 1)

I worked as a park ranger in Northern Alaska for years, from when I was in my early twenties until my mid-thirties. At first, when I took the job, I was trying to escape, but over time, I learned to love it- the endless wilderness, the snow-capped mountains, the muffled way everything sounded during blizzards. With no light pollution, the stars up there look like tiny chips of diamond. And during the winter, the Northern Lights roll in, twisting and shimmering in strange, alien colors.
But a few years ago, things got much worse. People up here have started to go missing at an alarming rate. And I started having strange experiences around the park and the nature preserve.
One of the strangest parts of my story started on a freezing, dark night in 2018. I was on a snowmobile out in a terrible blizzard. The conditions were nearly to the point of being impassable. The snow was falling so thick and fast that it looked like a moving, shimmering wall of white on all sides of me.
Another ranger, a huge, lumbering man named ‘Ace’ Acosta, pulled up behind me on a second snowmobile. I looked at him, standing six foot six with majestic peaks stretching up into the night sky, and thought about what a great picture this would make. As I was looking around, I saw the faint tracks in the snow. Ace’s snowmobile lights were pointed in their direction, and I had been standing almost on top of them without realizing it- which is fairly easy to do when a few inches of snow are falling every hour.
At first, I thought it was the frozen tracks of an injured animal. I saw the drops of blood soaked into the superficial ice first. Following their direction with my eyes, I realized there were footprints pressed into the frozen crust leading away from me and towards the flat stretch of the tundra. I squinted, getting down on my knees and leaning inwards. I didn’t want to trample the tracks.
I quickly realized I was looking at human footprints- naked human footprints. But who would be out here in December in -40 degree winds without shoes? They would die rapidly out here. Just for me to drive across the tundra on a snowmobile required me to wear three jackets, long-johns, snow pants, thick jeans, a ski mask and multiple layers of socks and gloves with hand-warmers. I wore special water-proof boots with composite toes that wouldn’t freeze like steel toes. And despite all of this, I was still cold.
I moved forward, and saw handprints mixed in with the footprints, all of them bloody. The ice was thick enough to slice open human hands and feet, undoubtedly. The logical conclusion was unshakable- someone had crawled through here, maybe naked, on all fours, and their frozen body would be somewhere up ahead. I sighed, turning to Acosta. He still stood in the same position, his face covered in a red scarf with only his eyes showing. I saw one ice-covered eyebrow raise questioningly.
“I think we got us a body somewhere nearby,” I said, getting back on my snowmobile and starting it. He did the same.
“What kind of freaked-out tweaker would be walking around here without clothes on?” Ace asked in his deep baritone. “Man, I need a hit of whatever that guy’s on. I’ve got two sweaters and two winter jackets on, and I’m still cold. Eh, Kelton? Eh? What do you say?” He started elbowing me jokingly. I frowned, not responding.
Ace always had a smart aleck remark. He was next to me when I was interviewed for this job originally, down at the recruitment center in Washington state. The old lady doing the interviewing was a bloodless, angry-looking specimen of a woman with huge glasses that magnified her eyes twice over. She spat out each of the questions like a drill sergeant talking to fresh meat in the Army.
“Are you a member of any organized religion?” she had asked brusquely. Ace shook his head.
“No, ma’am, but I am a member of a disorganized religion,” he said. “We call ourselves ‘the Servants of the Old Ones’. We’re waiting for the ancient reptilian gods at the bottom of the ocean to awaken. So far, however, they haven’t responded to any of our texts.” I thought about this as I revved the engine twice, a sign that I was about to pull off and that he should stay close.
We took off, going slow and following the tracks as close as possible without destroying them. But the tracks just kept going, the bloodstains seeming to grow fainter as we moved forward- and strangely enough, the distance between the hand and footprints also started to get longer, as if someone were running on all fours and speeding up. We were nearing the beginning of the forest of evergreens when I saw a white flash just up ahead.
The thing that ran from us was humanoid, but I knew at once that it was no person. It ran on hands and feet, totally naked, its skin a pale, lifeless white color. It turned its head towards the lights of the snowmobiles briefly. I saw a hairless creature with skin that clung tightly to its simian body, its lips permanently pulled back from its mouth as if they were eaten away. Underneath it showed mottled black and red gums covered in thick, clotted blood. Its nose appeared as little more than two irregular holes, and its eyes- they reflected the light of the snowmobiles, like the eyes of a raccoon or opossum. They were huge and sunken in its starving, monstrous face.
And I saw what was leaving the bloody trails. The creature was, as far as I could tell, totally uninjured. In its permanently grinning mouth, between rows of crooked, sharp, blood-stained teeth, it held the body of an infant. The baby’s head lolled from side to side, the neck seemingly broken, and blood dripped constantly from its mouth and nose. It had deep puncture marks in its tiny parka, half-rings of teeth marks that must have broken its ribs. The bloodstains on the snow were becoming fainter, because the heart was no longer pumping in the body of the one leaving them.
I had a loaded rifle inside my snowmobile, and kept a 12-gauge shotgun slung around my back, mostly in case of bear or moose attack. I always kept the shotgun loaded with slugs, which were, in my experience, the most versatile ammunition for stopping any large animal. The .308 might take down a polar bear, at least with a good headshot, or it might just piss it off on a bad day. But a shotgun slug to the head or heart will stop any bear or moose in its tracks.
Of course, this was no polar bear ahead of me. For all I knew, it was something far worse. I looked down at the speedometer to see I was going twenty miles an hour, in the dark, in a blizzard. And yet this strange humanoid creature was still losing us, its seemingly never-ending store of energy still sending it forward at a superhuman speed. Its pale, bony legs and arms pumped back and forth so fast that they were just a blur. It kept its sharp teeth around the nape of the dead infant’s neck, like a mother cat carrying its young.
I kept one hand on the steering wheel while trying to free the strap of my shotgun over my head. I slowed down below twenty, and the creature responded by going even faster. It was making a break for the mountain forests that started only a few hundred feet away. I got the gun free and quickly stopped the snowmobile and raised it. I centered the sights, taking a deep breath to steady myself, and fired.
I missed, though I don’t know by how much. Shotguns had the drawback of being significantly less accurate at further distances than the rifle. But by the time I got the .308 out, I knew the creature would have long since disappeared in the thick brush and trees. By this point, Ace had also stopped and opened fire, but the creature had already gone.
“God damn!” Ace screamed. “That was one fast motherfucker. I can’t believe he got away after all that.” I heaved a deep sigh.
“I think we better go find out where he got that baby from,” I said. “We might have a lot more corpses on our hands than we realize.”
***
We found a radio in the snowmobile and messaged in what had happened, or at least the basic gist of it. I left out the part about naked, half-human abominations, and said that it was an unknown animal. There wasn’t much law enforcement up in these parts, because, hell, there were barely any people. The rangers as well as fish and wildlife agents regularly worked with the police officers in small towns, at least those that had police officers. Dozens of the local tribal villages had no police at all. These people would come to forest rangers and fish and wildlife agents most of all, and were always some of the county’s friendliest and most helpful residents.
By the time we got back to the original blood-stained footprints, the snow had covered up the tracks completely. However, based on the direction that the creature had been going and where the tracks had come from, I thought I knew where it might have started. Following the path in a nearly straight line led to the Lutna Peak Trailer Park. Ace and I drove off at max speed across the rolling hills and flat plains, the snow coming faster and heavier now. They say eskimos have dozens of words for snow, and after being a ranger up here, I can say I’ve seen every variation of it a thousand times. This was turning into the kind that was wet with huge flakes and tended to stick to everything. We would probably have to find refuge soon, especially if it got any heavier.
I heard the screaming before I saw the commotion. As we came around the sharp right turn where the dirt road turned into the trailer park, I saw dozens of people out, flitting like gnats around one of the trailers at the back corner of the park. All of the lights were on in that particular trailer, and I saw one woman comforting another who was bent over and crying.
Even though almost everyone knew us here, I pulled out my badge identifying me as a federal law enforcement officer. Up here, all the rangers were technically federal agents, allowed to carry guns and make arrests like typical police, except we were licensed under the Department of the Interior rather than under state law enforcement agencies.
I ran into the trailer, and after one long glance around the place, I knew there was no need to call for any ambulances. Ace followed close behind me, his heavy, thudding footsteps shaking the trailer slightly as he ascended the steps. We said nothing for a long moment. The entire family was dead.
There was blood everywhere, even spotting the ceilings. Most of it had frozen in the cold, and I wondered how long the door had been left open. Body parts were scattered across the floor, an arm in the corner of the room, a head standing up on the kitchen counter, even a random tooth embedded into the sheetrock. The savagery was brutal, and the amount of strength required to carry out such an attack must have been extraordinary.
“I think we’re going to need a lot more people on this than just me and you,” Ace said. I nodded, already bone-tired, and with so much more work to do tonight before I could go to sleep.
We phoned both state and federal authorities in the area. Since much of the land was tribally owned, we had to deal with multiple branches. Eventually we got CSI out there in the middle of a snowstorm, though they had to come from over three hours away. We just secured the scene while we waited, constantly being brought into neighboring trailers where townsfolk would tell us the latest gossip. They also brought us hot coffee and tried to milk us for any information we might have, as they usually did in such situations.
“No, Maggie, honest,” Ace was saying to one old lady wrapped up in an ancient fur coat, “I don’t know any more about it than you do. You can be sure that you’d know if I did.” By that point, police cars were slowly pulling in, one by one. Ace and I told them a simplified version of the night’s events, said goodnight and left the scene to them. I went home and took a scalding hot shower, trying to force the night’s coldness out of my bones. Then I slept deeply, though I had nightmares of that creature’s face turning to me, holding a dead baby in its mouth and marking me with its emotionless, reflective eyes. I didn’t know it then, but that would be the last time I would sleep in a bed for many days.
***
The state police assigned us an officer the next day, stating they wanted an official representative of their interests involved in the case. It was, by this point, a fairly high-priority case. We didn’t even have many assaults or robberies up here, less likely murders, and the murder of an entire family really stirred up the locals. The fact that the CSI techs couldn’t make heads or tails of it made it even worse. They hadn’t even agreed on whether it was done by humans or animals or a combination of the two, like men with fighting dogs who went berserk. With no leads, they wanted us to go back to where we had seen the creature the previous night and see what we could find.
The police officer who would be tagging us, a woman named Officer Melinda Jansen, had the look of someone who just started a new job, and doesn’t realize how terrible it is yet. She was all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and when she shook my hand, she nearly crushed the bones together under her iron grip. I saw Ace wince slightly when he shook her hand too. When she turned her back, he looked at me with one eyebrow raised, as if he were saying, “What can you do?”
It didn’t take us long to find the spot from the previous night. When we got close to the forest where the creature disappeared, I saw a branch that had been hit by a shotgun blast, and knew we were right on the money. In the daytime, I saw that there was a slight, curving trail through the trees here, maybe an old deer trail. It was just wide enough for us to take our snowmobiles through if we went slow. Occasionally, I would have to get off, being in the lead, and move large branches that lay across the path, but overall it was faster going than I had expected.
The trail followed across the top of a rolling hill, went down and then spiraled up around a mountain. We were high now, at least 7,000 feet above sea level, and the view went for hundreds of miles. It was breath-taking, seeing the frozen white landscape below us, mountains lining one horizon and the Arctic Ocean on another. A couple hundred feet ahead of us, however, the trail just stopped. I saw an opening in the mountain. Slowly bringing my snowmobile up, I looked into it and saw what looked like naturally-formed stone hallways.
The halls sloped down at a steep angle without stairs. An eerie silence radiated from the gradually thickening darkness. The other two snowmobiles cut out right behind mine, and Officer Jansen came walking up, flicking on her LED headlamp. Immediately, I saw a strip of light blue cloth. I walked forward, bending down to confirm what I had already suspected: that this was a piece of the missing infant’s clothing.
“That looks like more than enough cause to me. Let’s do this,” Jansen said. “I’d like to be back before sundown.” She kept walking without waiting for confirmation. Ace and I slung on our packs and turned on our headlamps. I tried using the radios and sat-phone to share our location, but neither was working. The bright, artificial lights showed that the natural stone walls of the hall just kept on descending into the mountain. A warm breeze blew past me, an acrid, sulfuric smell following in its wake.
“This is just a body recovery mission at this point,” I whispered to Ace, giving Officer Jansen a wide space so I could talk. “So why are we potentially risking our lives here? We should be waiting for back-up. We both know that the infant is dead, and has been for a while.”
“You know what I think…” Ace whispered conspiratorially, before a low shriek stopped us all in our tracks and ended conversation. I never did get to hear what he thought. By this point, it was much warmer than it had been outside, and I had the urge to start stripping off jackets. The shrieking had intensified, and was now being answered by dozens of others that surrounded further away in the stone halls.
Officer Jansen had pulled out her gun, which I saw with some astonishment was a .454 Ruger, a large caliber gun with good stopping power. I saw enough magazines strapped around her hips to decimate an entire herd of buffalo. I also pulled off my shotgun, making sure it was filled with lead slugs.
“Do you have any idea what we’re up against?” I asked her. Ace was right behind us, his shotgun already cocked and loaded, the muzzle pointed downwards. I was sweating heavily by this point. The air in the tunnel just kept getting warmer. It felt like I was walking into a sauna. Thin clouds of mist and droplets of hot condensation clung to the smooth granite ceilings. The hall continued to descend at the same steep rate, but now I could see something at the bottom: light.
“Not much more than you, really,” Officer Jansen said with a slight sneer. “My only advice is to shoot first and ask questions later. Kill anything that moves. This place has taken a lot of people already, people who were too fat and slow to watch their own backs…” I squinted as I examined the lights. They seemed to emanate from some sort of organism growing on the stone’s surface.
It wasn’t electrical lights, and it certainly wasn’t natural sunlight. It glowed like the lights of millions of fireflies, a purplish-blue color that painted the granite floors and walls in a totally different light. We were walking as quietly as possible by this point, but I still hadn’t seen anyone. We reached the bottom of the stone halls, where strange mushrooms glowed in the darkness, their mycelium giving off that black-light color everywhere as it stretched across the threshold of the opening. I turned off my LED, seeing my comrades do the same, then poked my head through, looking back and forth.
I saw more of those creatures from before, their lips missing, their skin pale, their eyes huge and rabid. They constantly twisted and snapped their heads to the left or right, as if hearing something only they could perceive. Two were dragging an elk that had been mutilated and torn down the middle. Another was dragging an old man’s dead body forward by the upraised legs. I saw the old man’s head was missing, his wrinkled hands trailing behind the body. I watched where all this activity was headed, then I gasped.
A huge, insectile monster sat lazily against the stone wall as these creatures brought it meat. The monster was so fat that I wasn’t even sure it could stand up. It had a blood-red, chitinous exterior with a hood like a rattlesnake’s that extended around its head. Its teeth trembled together constantly as it shoved more gory offerings into its mouth, sending blood gushing forwards in thick clotted rivulets that dripped down its chin. Its long, thin arms had sharp knife-like digits, and its six legs branched like those of a praying mantis, splayed out on each side of its body, shining a dark red color in the strange light of the chamber. Its belly stretched far in front of its body, and with horror, I saw it drop a cluster of eggs, each as big as a dog. Their surfaces writhed and trembled, looking tight and ready to burst at any moment.
The creatures that fed and cared for this monster rushed over, dragging the eggs to the corner of the warm chamber. I saw that there were dozens more of them over there, and that some had already hatched.
Whatever that monster was, it had already given birth, and now those things were walking around, totally free to kill anything, or anyone, they wanted.

submitted by CIAHerpes to nosleep [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 19:10 FCPainter Colorado Mini Split question...

What a great resource this thread is, so thanks in advance! We are getting bids for an install in our 70's ranch - for two bedrooms (160 and 200 sq ft) and a larger main area with open/vaulted ceiling- (750 sq. ft). (There's also a third bedroom that we or someone might want to add in later.) No AC currently, but want a system that will heat as well as cool, so looking into hyper heat and the Bryant model that is also effective to lower temps.
Questions-

The clearance from top window moulding to ceiling in the bedrooms is 14". I was told by one guy (Bryant) that no way can we put heads up there. He was also the one who suggested putting the18 unit through the attic knee wall and aiming into the large area. I'm not a fan of this idea since it would involve a drain line that could be trouble, and what you can't see could be a problem down the road. The west end of this large open area on an exterior wall makes more sense and is right around the corner from electrical box outside.
But second bid (Mitsubishi) who had been a HVAC tech previously, said yes, we could fit above the bedroom windows. There would be almost 3 inches of clearance above the heads. I'd prefer to have above a window, aesthetically. Thoughts?
Size 18 for the larger space and 9's in the small rooms? Seems to be right.
If we go for three areas, one bid was suggesting 2 separate compressor units outside, another was suggesting a more powerful Mitsubishi unit if we actually did 3 bedrooms and the large space. I was reading another post that suggested using more than one outside unit is actually more effective than trying to run lines to too many indoor heads.
p.s. this is a very steep and interesting learning curve!

Appreciate any advice or comments.

submitted by FCPainter to hvacadvice [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 18:47 gp0725 Wire to fixture keeps tripping breaker

Recently, our ceiling fan/light fixture stopped working. I got a new ceiling fan and am about to install it. I connected the power supply to the light switch wire (without the fixture) and when we turned on the switch the breaker would trip. To test if it was issue with switch or power supply, I connected the black from power to white from power, turned the breaker on and it tripped.
Any suggestions on what may be causing the power supply to trip?

submitted by gp0725 to askanelectrician [link] [comments]