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noona-clock · 4 years

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The Engineer - Part 4

Genre: Engineer!AU

Pairing: Chanwoo x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 | Words: 2,294

This was bad.

Just after you’d closed your eyes to go to sleep last night, you had realized something. Something that would probably keep you awake for at least another hour.

Chanwoo had asked you to... hang out.

Those had been his exact words. Hang out. He hadn’t asked you to go out, and he certainly hadn’t asked you to go on a date with him.

He’d said “I was wondering if... you’d wanna, like... hang out?”

And you really couldn’t be sure that he’d asked you out on a date. I mean, people typically used the term ‘hang out’ when they were spending time with friends.

So... what if Chanwoo was only interested in you as a friend? What if he already had a girlfriend? ...Or a boyfriend? Or was single but wanted a boyfriend?

I mean, you’d been around Miles and his 99.9% accurate Gaydar for so many years, you were pretty confident in your own skills of figuring out who wasn’t straight. And you hadn’t gotten any vibes from Chanwoo other than flirting ones! You’d thought he’d been flirting with you!

But... maybe not?

Maybe he had been so shy and awkward because... he was just shy and awkward around people he didn’t know, not because he was interested in you.

To be honest, you’d thought about it and over-analyzed it far too much. Sometimes -- mainly when you were doing your job -- you were glad to have such an active brain.

At times like these, you were not glad in the slightest.

You’d been able to manage four or five hours of restless sleep last night, so you were currently on your third cup of coffee -- and it wasn’t even 11 AM. This was a new personal record!

You had just taken a sip of the only thing keeping you awake when the sound of a text message arriving chirped through the air. You jumped a little, your heart starting to race even more than it already had been from all the caffeine you’d consumed.

When you reached for your phone, you saw the message you’d just received was from Chanwoo.

You took a deep breath and you clicked on the notification and opened it.

Do you like sushi?

You quickly replied back that you did, indeed, like sushi.

A few moments later, he responded with a location -- a new sushi restaurant you recognized but hadn’t gotten around to trying yet, and underneath that, he simply said Noon?

So... did he want to come pick you up at noon? Or did he want you to meet him there at noon?

For some reason you weren’t quite sure of, you didn’t want to ask. Even though it would make things so much easier, and it would make your anxiety a lot less... well... anxious.

But you still replied with Sounds good!

Chanwoo read your message immediately and began typing.

Cool. See you there!

You couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a very loud sigh of relief. You gave his message a thumbs up, put your phone back down on the coffee table, and picked your mug back up.

To be honest, you were relieved in more ways than one. You were relieved that he had settled your inner debate about whether he would pick up or if you would meet him there -- and he had also settled your inner debate about whether or not he was romantically interested in you.

He knew where you lived (though, not in a creepy way -- hopefully), and if he was taking you out on a real date, he definitely would’ve offered to come pick you up.

So. A casual friendly hangout it is!

When you pulled into the parking lot of the sushi restaurant at two minutes after noon, you weren’t too worried even though you usually liked being right on time -- or even a little bit early.

Most of the guys you’d dated in the past had never been right on time -- or even a little bit early -- to anything in their lives, including your dates. It had never really bothered you if they were just a few minutes late, and you’d gotten so used to it that you just kind of assumed that Chanwoo wouldn’t be there right at noon.

Not that you were dating him, of course. Or even that this was a date! Because it sure wasn’t!

Anyway, the point is, you were more than a little surprised when you walked into the restaurant and saw Chanwoo waiting for you in the front seating area.

He stood up quickly, wringing his hands in front of him nervously and shooting you an adorably awkward smile.

“Hey,” he greeted as you approached him. “You look great.”

“Hey, thanks,” you replied, smiling back at him. And then you reached out and briefly patted his upper arm and said, “You do, too.”

...You immediately regretted doing that. You might as well have just playfully punched his arm and called him ‘Pal.’

Just exactly how lame were you?!

Apparently, Chanwoo also thought you were lame because his cheeks tinged with pink, and he murmured his thanks almost under his breath.

...Off to a great start!

You mentally kicked yourself as the hostess showed you both to the sushi bar, silently hoping the very beginning of this non-date wasn’t an omen about how the rest of it would go.

As soon as you slid onto a stool, hanging your bag up on a hook underneath the counter, Chanwoo asked you about your job. He was probably curious since you’d been home in the early afternoon, a time most working adults would be... well, at work.

You explained that you were a freelancer and got all of your work done at home -- or in a coffee shop if you needed a change of scenery.

He seemed to be more interested in your answer than most people, asking how you’d found the job, if you liked working at home, if you’d always envisioned this career path for yourself, if it had to do with what you’d gotten your degree in.

The server had come to take your drink and sushi orders as you talked, and by the time he laid your platter of food down in front of you, you felt like you’d relayed almost your whole life story to Chanwoo.

I mean, at least, your whole career story.

“What about you?” you asked in return as you broke apart your wooden chopsticks. “How did you become a --”

What was it he’d said the other day?

“A mechanical engineer,” Chanwoo supplied with a half grin.

“Right, that,” you chuckled. “What’s the story behind it?”

Chanwoo let out a soft, ponderous sigh, picking up a roll from his plate and popping it into his mouth.

“Well,” he replied as soon as he’d finished chewing. “I’ve always liked figuring out how things work. I’m actually not very good at it -- not naturally, I mean. But I like the challenge. And I’ve always been pretty good with my hands.”

“Which is why you almost you hit me with a baseball,” you interrupted with an amused grin.

“Yes,” Chanwoo chuckled, his cheeks once again tinging with pink. “My dream growing up was to be a professional ball player, but once I figured out how slim those odds really are, I decided to go for a job that’s a little more guaranteed and steady.”

“So, what did you study at university?” you asked in-between bites of your avocado roll.

An almost invisible smile tugged at Chanwoo’s lips, and you wondered why he would find your question so amusing... but then he replied with, “Mechanical Engineering.”

“Oh,” you chuckled. “I had no idea that was a -- of course. That makes a lot of sense.”

“Yeah, my friend’s uncle owns YG -- the company I work for now -- and we used to help him out during the summer in high school. Once I graduated, I knew exactly what I wanted to major in.”

The fact that he brought up high school and graduating only reminded you of when he graduated -- and how many years after you it had been. But you stuffed another sushi roll into your mouth to try and rid those thoughts from your brain.

“You like your job, then?” you asked, somewhat avoiding his gaze for now.

“I do,” he confirmed. “It keeps me busy enough, but I still have time to play baseball and video games. That’s... really all I need.”

See, hearing him say that, you knew this was destined to be just a friendship. You really weren’t into baseball or video games all that much, and you couldn’t imagine he would want a girlfriend who didn’t care about his main hobbies.

That actually made you feel a little bit better. A little more relaxed.

“Do you actually play? Like on a team or anything?”

“I have before, but there’s usually always a game, or at least a practice, on Saturdays, and I didn’t like not being able to show up sometimes,” he shrugged. “But I play with my friends a lot, and I like just going to the batting cages and hitting by myself.”

“You’re an introvert?” you asked with a small grin.

Chanwoo nodded, letting out a breathless chuckle as he started on his second row of sushi. “Yeah.”

“Me, too,” you told him. “I mean, I work at home by myself all day. I’d better be an introvert.”

Chanwoo chuckled again, though this time it was a bit louder and contained more amusement.

“I have my best friend, Miles, and his husband, Tristan, and my family, of course -- but that’s about it.”

To be honest... you hadn’t realized just how small your social circle was. Yes, you were acquaintances and casual friends with quite a few people -- your neighbors included -- but you didn’t spend actual, real quality time with anyone but who you’d just named.

So, it was actually a good thing Chanwoo was trying to be friends with you. The two of you may not have a whole lot in common, but so far, he was easy to talk to.

...Except when you saw his dimples. They’d appeared a few times during your meal already, and your heart had yet to beat normally when they did.

But other than that, you didn’t feel too awkward or nervous around him, and it seemed like he was getting more comfortable around you, too.

Everything seemed to be going swimmingly, actually.

Until... the check.

When your server brought your check, you frowned when you realized he hadn’t asked if you wanted it together or separate. Obviously, since this wasn’t a date, you’d been prepared to pay for your own meal. But since he hadn’t given you an option, you simply reached down to get your wallet out of your bag so you could at least pay for your half.

“Oh, no,” Chanwoo interrupted, already having slid his wallet out of his pocket. “I got it.”

“That’s okay, I can pay for mine.”

“No,” he repeated. “I got it.”

He got out his credit card, placing it on top of the receipt and waving down the server to come and take it before you had a chance to even open your bag.

“Oh --” you murmured as the server appeared to take the check away. “Thank you. You didn’t need to, I could’ve paid for mine.”

“I wanted to,” Chanwoo answered as he put his wallet back into his pocket -- probably a nervous gesture because he would have to get it right back out again when the server came back.

“I’ll get it next time!” you offered with a grin.

Chanwoo’s eyebrows flew up his forehead, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Yeah? You... want to go out again?”

...Oh, no.

When he’d asked you on the phone last night, he’d said ‘hang out.’

Now, he was saying ‘go out.’ And he hadn’t let you pay.

You’d spent this whole time thinking it wasn’t a date... but now you were severely questioning that thought.

So, when you answered him, you kept your tone as friendly and casual as possible. “Yeah, sure! Why not?” you chuckled. “I had a good time.”

Chanwoo pressed his lips together to suppress his smile, and he replied, “Me, too.”

You were too confused now. He was certainly acting like this had been a date... so, why had he asked you to hang out?!

But another good question was, why had you been so fixated on the fact that he’d asked you to hang out? Why were you over-analyzing every little thing about this situation? Why couldn’t you just be cool and nonchalant and see where this whole thing took the two of you?!

...This was probably why you barely had any friends.

As soon as the server brought the check back, you grabbed your purse from the hook under the counter and began to make your way to the front of the restaurant.

Now that you thought maybe Chanwoo did maybe think this was maybe a date, you were starting to get anxious about the ‘saying good-bye’ part.

What if he tried to kiss you?

Honestly, you wouldn’t hate that. But you’d been thinking this whole time that this was a friendly, casual hangout lunch! Not a date! You couldn’t just flip the switch that easily!

“Well,” you said once the two of you got outside. “Just -- just let me know when you want to hang out again.”

And then you waved and said good-bye and got your keys out and went to your car and left.

...So. Yeah.

That... ended smoothly.

Part 5

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brindaneer · 3 years

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Inspiration and positivity are what the entire human race is in dire need of during these uncertain times. The present blog acquires additional importance for us because the film it deals with is possibly one of the most motivational motion pictures produced by the Hindi movie industry in the past few years. Penned by the inimitable Javed Akhtar, and directed by Farhan Akhtar, Lakshya showcased the progression of Karan Shergil from an aimless, albeit good-hearted soul drifting through life into a dutiful officer of the Indian Army. Karan's path of self-discovery was not merely an entertaining watch; it was also about the vital role that initiative and determination could play in our lives. Thrown in the midst of a world pandemic after a hundred years, most of us have lost these amazing qualities up to some degree at least, which is probably why pondering over this film in particular seems to be a productive job at the moment. Ironically, a film that several people have drawn inspiration from over the years (people had actually joined the Army after watching Lakshya) had been declared a 'box-office flop' during the time of its release. In that aspect, Lakshya resembles classics like Kaagaz ke Phool, Mera Naam Joker, Pakeezah, Jane Bhi Do Yaaron, and Andaaz Apna Apna, all of which failed to take the box-office by storm, but went on to obtain cult status among viewers later. Astounding? Definitely. Great films sometimes fail financially without rime or reason and unfortunately, the same fate befell Lakshya.

At its core, Lakshya was Karan's story and not a war film. The war and Indian Army provided a perfect setting for Karan to find his true calling. Nevertheless, intricacies of the Kargil war along with the destruction, desolation and pain that accompanied it, and which are also inevitably associated with all international armed conflicts in general, were far from being neglected in the story. A great writer is able to strike a balance between various dimensions of a plot without compromising on his actual intention, and who better than the legendary Javed Akhtar to achieve that? He was complimented by his talented son, the captain of this ship, who ably steered the film into a direction his father had envisaged while writing the script. Karan's metamorphosis from a lazy, casual college-going boy, perpetually confused about what he really wanted to do with life into a mature and responsible man was laced with humour and drama in equal measure, a strategy Farhan had previously employed while depicting Akash's journey in the epic 'Dil Chahta Hai'. Yet, the real genius lay in how different these two journeys actually were. Nobody could accuse Farhan of repeating what he had already done in his debut directorial venture.

Moments such as Karan listing his engagements of the day to Romi's (Preity Zinta) father upon being asked about his future plans in life and then literally hijacking that man's opinion on the importance of giving the best, no matter what the job was, to pacify his own father were examples of the witty humour we were talking about earlier. Of course, the actors took these scenes to a different level altogether. Hrithik’s delivery of ‘Main ye sochta hoon Dad’ after Karan had just rattled the ‘achcha ghaas kaatnewala’ lecture, and Boman Irani’s (Karan’s strict father) poker faced ‘Thik sochte ho’ in return have never failed to elicit roars of laughter from viewers till date. This wit pervaded most of the film’s first half as Karan continued his antics- the expression of his eternal confusion through the iconic ‘Main Aisa Kyun Hoon’ (apart from displaying Hrithik’s insane dancing skills through the choreography of the one and only Prabhu Deva, this sequence also aptly conveyed Karan’s inherent dilemmas), his decision of joining the Army only because another friend had promised he would come too, his disappointment upon being dumped by that friend, his ‘unconventional’ marriage proposal to Romi and his characteristic callousness as well as indolence even during his stint at the IMA were hilarious to say the least. Hrithik’s comic timing was pitch perfect in every scene, and perfectly suited for the nuanced, elegant genre of comedy that the script had aimed at.

Just when we thought Lakshya was a hoot, Farhan introduced the dramatic element in it; and he did so with such subtlety and ease that the ensuing sequence of events seemed to be the only natural course for the film to take. The scene where Karan fell into the pool by sheer unmindfulness during one of his drills and got punished by his commanding officer was somehow able to generate a strange mixture of sympathy as well as laughter amongst the audience and proved to be one of the watershed moments in Karan’s story. Hrithik’s masterful portrayal of humiliation as Karan knelt in front of his fellow cadets engendered such palpable discomfort within us the first time that re-watching it remains difficult even now.

The Karan that emerged on the other side of this event was somewhat different. Staying true to his fickle-minded nature, he jumped the wall of IMA and fled home. Nevertheless, regret could clearly be observed on his countenance as he sat with his parents, head bowed in shame, forced to accept defeat in front of his father- a man, who had always underestimated him. The grievance in his eyes upon over-hearing Mr. Shergill's unfavourable opinion of him hinted not only towards Karan's underlying strong ego, but also revealed his latent desire to prove himself. The hurt ego, along with his heart, was eventually completely shattered when the one person who had genuinely believed in him refused to be a part of his life anymore. Romi, played by Preity Zinta with her usual vivacity and boldness, broke up with Karan at the same place where she had once agreed to marry him because he had failed to live up to even her expectations. For Karan, someone who had probably harboured feelings of inferiority ever since childhood because of incessant comparisons with his brother, this became the ultimate betrayal. As viewers, it was our interpretation that he never really understood Romi’s point of view; he only attributed one primary meaning to her actions- her belief in his worthlessness. Looking at this entire sequence from a neutral perspective, one might say that both Karan and Romi deserved some empathy from each other. Karan’s lack of conviction in everything he did naturally upset Romi to a point where she could not imagine spending the rest of her life with him. Can we really blame her? As far as Karan was concerned, he had to bear rejection from someone, who, he had hoped, would never judge him like his dad. Before this, he had been able to bear the brunt of his father's expectations because of the security that his relationship with Romi provided him. However, when she pushed him away, he truly hit bare ground, with no one to break the fall. The scene that followed the break-up will possibly remain one of the best pieces of emotional acting in Hrithik’s career forever. As easy as it might seem, crying your heart out on screen can actually be very difficult in practice. Hrithik obviously nailed the sobs, but more importantly, he conveyed his character’s rancour towards Romi most effectively through the unspoken hurt in his eyes, thereby suitably justifying the transition Karan would undergo next.

With no comfort zone left for him to turn to, Karan did what his parents, especially his father, and Romi had always wanted him to do. He grew up. He could have sulked like a petulant child and continued to live a directionless life like he had done previously. Instead, he chose to prove himself to Romi and made that his life’s goal. Ironically, Romi had disapproved when he insisted on joining the army earlier because she felt he was doing it to rebel against his father. But this was a different Karan. He was not rebelling anymore. He was trying to show Romi that he could be much more than what everyone thought about him. Sub-consciously, it was not just she who was the reason for this transformation; rather, it was both his dad and her.

Karan’s second stint at the IMA provided viewers with some of the finest moments in the film. His dedication towards learning and training, initial isolation and finally, amalgamation into the student community were fascinatingly depicted through the brilliant title song ‘Haan yahi rasta hai tera, tune ab jana hai, Haan yahi sapna hai tera, tune pehchana hai, tujhe ab ye dikhana hai......Roke tujhko aandhiyaan, ya zameen aur aasmaan, payega jo lakshya hai tera....Lakshya ko har haal mein paana hai’. Now, let us take a brief moment to acknowledge the terrific music by Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy which truly set the mood for the film. This song in particular struck a chord with us because of the simplicity and eloquence with which it expressed the inherent message of the story. The picturization was top-notch with several nuances throughout. Few moments stand out even now such as Karan passionately screaming ‘Dhawa’ during his drill, something he had been completely casual about earlier, Hrithik’s unflinching eye-contact with the CO who had previously punished him indicating that Karan was a changed man now, and Karan’s increasing camaraderie with his batch mates.

The song was followed by two important sequences, superb for the understated nature in which they expressed first Karan’s unspoken resentment towards his father, and then, his blatant grievance against Romi. In the first, Karan’s mother informed him that his dad had wanted to attend his graduation ceremony but could not ultimately, and in the second, Karan himself called Romi to inform her that he was finally a lieutenant of the Indian Army. At this point of time, talking about Hrithik’s acting probably seems redundant. So, we apologize for the redundancy (What? Did you think we would stop talking about it? 😱😱). Karan’s casual brushing away of his mother’s statement about Mr. Shergill conveyed volumes about how he had ceased to expect anything from his father; it also revealed the disappointment he felt, courtesy of Hrithik’s amazingly layered performance. Similarly, his delivery of ‘Saare faisle tum nahin kar sakti Romi’ was spot-on. It was optimally hurtful, just like it was supposed to be.

As his job brought Karan to Kargil, Ladakh, and he met his commanding officer, Colonel Damle, played to usual perfection by the enigmatic Mr. Bachchan who managed to captivate the audience completely during the few brief moments he had in the film, as well as other colleagues, the lines between proving himself to the two important people of his life and finding his true ‘Lakshya’ began to blur. By his own confession, he had never thought about the significance of being an ‘Indian’ until his senior colleague Jalal Akbar (a brilliantly natural Sushant Singh) took him to the border (pretty prophetic that Hrithik himself went on to play a different Jalal Akbar later in his career, right?). In all honesty, a considerable section of the audience probably felt the same too. The stunning Trans-Himalayan locales shot so artistically definitely added to this feeling, although any border area is usually capable of engendering such thoughts. The landscape of Ladakh has a strange haunting quality about it, and that played a substantial role not only in making the film a visual treat but also metaphorically with respect to Karan’s journey.

As he truly began to love his job, Karan realized that he was finally ready to let go of his ego as far as Romi was concerned. Unfortunately, Romi, after a lot of thought, and pining for Karan, had decided to move on with life, much to Karan’s shock and dismay. The scene where he stood outside the venue of her engagement and watched her laughing with her fiance was one of a kind for the lack of melodrama that usually accompanies such sequences. Its speciality lay in the director’s nuanced handling of emotions and the actor’s terrific portrayal of subtle poignancy.

Run down and broken by the trials of his life, Karan returned home to his parents, only to receive news that his leave had been cancelled, and that he was urgently required to return to base. The moment where he bid goodbye to his parents was the first time when his father openly expressed love and concern for him, although not exactly in those words. The visible tension on Mr. Shergil’s face as he lost his cool and asked Karan to tell the complete truth was a testimony to his worry for his son who was about to go to a border area amidst serious disturbances. The part where Karan hugged his mother and left with just an uncomfortable glance towards his dad was another of those amazing subtle moments which characterized Farhan’s direction for this film. Hrithik’s discomfort and Boman Irani’s disappointment were both heart-rending to watch and as a viewer, one really wanted to reach out and give both of them hugs. A special thanks to Farhan and whoever was in charge of casting for signing Boman Irani in this role. Hrithik and his scenes were like mini acting classes that aspiring actors could take tips from.

Sometimes, it is difficult to get on with life, more so after losing one’s love forever like Karan had, but military training had instilled a sense of duty and discipline in him that was impossible to ignore. Of course, he had already begun to find a deeper meaning in his life through his job, especially after spending time with his superiors and colleagues. And, so he marched on. Had Romi seen his sense of responsibility even during a time when his personal life was in turmoil, she would have been proud. However, the realization that this was his true calling was probably yet to come to Karan. It did, in phases as he learnt about the war situation from Colonel Damle, and then embarked upon it.

If two people are destined to meet, even the universe conspires to bring them together. The same thing happened with Karan and Romi as they crossed paths unexpectedly in Kargil, of all places. The scene where they saw each other amidst a convoy of army vehicles is absolute poetry. Kudos to Preity for being so natural with her expressions always; she was brilliant in every scene, and especially here as Romi’s eyes changed from pure surprise on finding Karan there to a subtle melancholy and probably hope ( ?) at the thought of their future interactions. Hrithik, as usual, was spot-on with Karan’s ‘seeing a ghost’ expression as he moved past her, without getting an opportunity to satisfy his curiosity regarding her presence there.

Their next exchanges were laced with intense angst, but not of the typical Bollywood kind, rather much more controlled and nuanced. The part where Karan, after knowing about the demise of his good friend Abir (from the IMA) found his other pal Saket (Abir’s closest friend) venting out at Romi requires special mention because of the seamless manner in which it shifted from a discourse on the necessity and morality of war to a fantastic interaction between the lead couple, their first face-to-face conversation since the break up. It was formal, yet intimate; mundane, yet special; filled with hope for more on Romi’s part, and discomfort as well as suppressed anger on Karan’s. This scene was followed by his a little mean ‘pata nahin’ when Romi asked him if he had decided whether they should meet or not, and his angsty ‘congratulations’ for her engagement. Of course, the poor guy had no idea that she had broken it off after finding out that her fiance who was apparently a highly motivated successful individual was also a narrow-minded chauvinist. The irony of life! Once again, kudos to the genius of Farhan Akhtar. Without even mentioning it, he managed to point out the difference between Karan and Rajeev, and it was clearer than ever why Romi loved Karan. Remember ‘Maine aj tak tum mein koi choti baat nahin dekhi’ ? However, Romi obviously did not explain the truth to Karan. It was truly frustrating at times to see these two souls so much in love with each other, and yet unable to let go of their stubornness. Nonetheless, the frustration could be borne because of the brilliant intensity of their scenes and the wonderful chemistry these two shared. Truly, we do not talk enough about Hrithik and Preity’s amazing on screen bonding. We really should!

Karan eventually found out about Romi’s broken engagement from a letter his best friemd Ashu had sent him a while back. Hrithik’s expression of shock portrayed the extent to which the news had unsettled Karan. Incidentally, just when love had given him a second chance, Karan encountered death more closely than ever. After an initial victory during the first battle (the one in which he had saved the life of a senior officer, and killed opponents for the first time; also possibly the one where he began to realize that serving his country had started becoming his passion), Karan and his battalion were massively defeated in the second and several lives were lost, including his close colleague, Captain Akbar’s. The scene where Akbar succumbed to his injuries in front of his best friend, Dr. Sudhir (played by the late Abir Goswami, may he rest in peace too) who tried desperately to resuscitate him while motivating the gasping man with remarks such as ‘aam khane jana hai na’ can make people cry anytime without manipulating their emotions or forcefully tugging at their heartstrings. In fact, this was true for every battle sequence in Lakshya, which made it one of the best war movies Bollywood had ever made. Notably, the script treated every character with sufficient respect including even the ones who had screen times of just a few minutes. Everyone had a well-crafted story arc, however small it might be but integral to the movie. Most importantly, not for one second did we feel that Karan had taken up the screen space of others.

The best example for this was provided by the great late Om Puri ji, who played the role of Subedar Pritam Singh. Of course, if you have the privilege of casting an actor of his calibre, your can rest assured of the outcome. Acting is at its best when it does not feel like enactment, and not many actors are more natural than Om Puri ji! Appearing on screen for not more than four to five scenes, he delivered some of the most profound dialogues in the film. He explained to Karan how a soldier knew better than anyone about the destructiveness of war; yet he had no other option but to be a part of it. When Karan asked why wars took place, he pointed out that human greed had drawn boundaries upon the earth’s surface and if it were in their hands, men would partition the moon too. How true it rings, especially now. People are actually talking about ‘making life interplanetary’. If it ever happens, countries are going to fight about demarcating territories there.

Moving on! Excuse the length of this blog please! A film like Lakshya has so many subtle intricacies that it becomes impossible to leave out scenes. But don’t be impatient please. We have almost reached the end of our ‘Lakshya’. A few sequences still deserve mention. First, the iconic ‘Tum kehti thi na Romi meri zindagi mein koi lakshya nahin hai?’ The defeat accompanied by the loss of close friends and colleagues had augmented Karan’s determination to win but our hero had also finally discovered his passion, his true calling. In moments when such epiphanies occur, is there anything else left to do other than crying? Probably not. That was exactly what Karan did. As usual, Hrithik’s performance elevated the quality of this scene, like so many others. The part where Karan pledged to Colonel Damle that either he would execute the mission successfully, or he would not come back alive was again equally impactful because of both Hrithik and Mr. Bachchan. The way Colonel Damle looked at his officer after this momentous declaration conveyed the immense pride, gratitude and grief he felt at that moment. Truly, Mr. Bachchan needs no dialogues to express emotions. His eyes do it all. And the same is true for Hrithik too.

Now, its time for our favourite scene in the movie. You guys must be thinking that we agree on everything. Well, we do agree a lot, but disagreements occur too. However, there was no disagreement on this one. We think its a lot of other people’s favourite too. You are right! We are talking about the scene in which Karan called his dad. This was on the night before the final mission- a mission that was near suicidal. Upon seeing his colleague Vishal take off his engagement ring and put it in an envelope, Karan finally acknowledged what he was running away from; something that he had buried deep down in his sub-conscious- his conflicted emotions towards his father. The knowledge that he might no longer be alive for a resolution made Karan pick up the phone and dial his number. Here is an anecdote in this context. When Boman Irani started shooting for his part in this sequence, Hrithik’s lines were being read by an AD, and Mr. Irani could not get his shot right because he was not able to get the proper feel. Acting is a lot about reacting, and the non-impactful delivery by the AD hampered Mr. Irani’s shot. Finally, the person in charge of the sound came to his rescue and Hrithik’s dialogues were played in audio (Hrithik’s part had already been shot by then) to which Boman Irani reacted. And what an outcome. This is the true mark of a great actor; he not only excels himself but helps others soar too. And what an honour to have helped an ace actor like Boman Irani! The performances by both in this scene were superlative and manage to leave us with lumps in our throats even today.

In his first ever heart-to-heart with his dad, Karan confessed that he had always disappointed his father and told him that he was aware of it. In return, his dad who initially had thought Karan had called his mom, finally told him how proud he was of him. A salute and heartfelt gratitude to all the parents out there who send their children to serve in the security forces so that civilians can live in peace. The smile on his son’s face was proof that he could die happy. The tears in both their eyes expressed the craving they had towards each other; the dejection that Karan had always felt upon being ‘ignored’ by his father was replaced by the understanding that his father had always loved him; the pain on Mr. Shergill’s face portrayed his disappointment for waiting so long to convey his love to Karan- so long that there was a chance he might never see him again.

Having poured his heart out to his dad, Karan finally set out to achieve his Lakshya of recapturing Point 5179 and hoisting the Indian flag on it, but not before a much needed conversation with Romi. What an amazing bond these two shared. Karan did not need to tell her explicitly that he knew about her broken engagement; she did not have to tell him that she still loved him. They just knew. Her ‘to phir main zindagi bhar intezaar karungi’ was far more intense than a conventional ‘I love you’. The beauty of this scene lay in the complete lack of melodrama which one usually associates with Bollywood scenes of this kind. No over the top background score, no hysterics, not even a hug! And the fact that they wanted to hug, but could not (because Karan’s seniors were waiting) made this moment even more poignant. Hrithik and Preity were the epitomes of subtlety here. The frustration of not even being able to touch each other before Karan left for a life threatening assignment was so tangible that even the audience imbibed it. Seriously, why did not Hrithik and Preity work more? They were so attuned to even each other’s silences!

The final mission proved the truth of Romi’s words. ‘Jis din usne decide kar liya ki use kya karna hai, aap dekhna wo kahan se kahan pohochta hai’. Indeed, Karan reached the peak of success, literally and metaphorically. The mountain-climbing scene deserves a special mention here. It was so perfectly done that the only comparison that comes to mind is the famous rock-climbing sequence in ‘The Guns of Navarone’ by the iconic Gregory Peck. And in all fairness, Captain Mallory only climbed a cliff; Captain Shergill had to climb a peak of the Trans Himalayas! Jokes aside, both scenes shall forever remain goosebump- inducing. Karan, obviously hoisted the Indian flag, and just in time. Boy, did he make Colonel Damle proud or what?!

Thanks to our friend Mita for this wonderful VM .

There is a saying that everything works out in the end, and if it does not, it is not the end. It indeed did happen that way for Karan. He found his goal, and achieved it too. As he walked out of that elevator, and hugged his dad finally, we surely did feel contented. And who said Mr. Shergill did not know his son? Well, he might have taken time, but now he understood him better than most. When Karan’s mother asked if they could go home, he objected. Go home? What NO! Karan had to go and fulfill his other 'Lakhshya’, right?

How wonderfully thoughtful of Romi to stand at a distance from Karan’s parents, wanting to give them the private space that they needed! Actually, kudos to the director for his sensitivity; such subtlety is not something that we frequently see in Bollywood. So thank God for ‘Lakshya’. Just like Karan’s story ended on a positive note as the camera focussed on him and Romi, holding hands, finally embracing each other, ready to step in to a new chapter of their lives, we also end this blog with a bit of optimism.. Let us all hope and pray that ‘Hum Jeetenge Ye Baazi’ (modifying Javed Akhtar’s line a bit) on behalf of every Indian, and every person in the world dealing with this pandemic.

P.S. This blog is dedicated to all the front-line workers (doctors, nurses, other medical personnel, medical suppliers, delivery executives, grocery storekeepers, and all other emergency personnel) who put their lives in danger everyday so that we may survive. Please know that you are always in our prayers. Also, let us all hope that no one remains shy of masks and vaccines anymore. Those are the most effective ways of countering this virus. Stay safe everyone!

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krumbine · 4 years

Text

Videorama: Revenge of the Nooooo!

The year is 2005.

George W. Bush is just starting his second term in the White House.

The hottest game in cell phone technology is the Motorola Razr V3 and the PalmOne Treo 650.

The iPhone is still a few years away.

The Rise of Skywalker isn’t even a twinkle in Disney’s eye––an eye that’s currently preoccupied with an overly optimistic Narnia Franchise Wet Dream.

In fact, Disney wouldn’t even buy Star Wars for another seven years.

It’s summer in 2005 and millions of marketing dollars can still pull the wool over the eyes of a naive movie-going public, dictating box office success regardless of audience consensus or even general quality of filmmaking.

All hail the grand illusion of capitalism.

It’s a warm evening in the summer of 2005 and video rental stores are still a thing.

One particular, independently-run store––freestanding, double glass doors on the left side of the brick facade, small parking lot––was just turning its sign on as dusk settled.

Videorama was open for business.

Tobey blinked incredulously at the three teenagers standing on the other side of the counter. His brain hurt as he attempted to summon the endurance needed to fathom the sheer stupidity of their question.

To buy himself some time, Tobey blinked again.

“… well?” asked the one with the long greasy hair. “Do you have it?”

There was no way these kids were serious.

Tobey shook his head in disbelief. “You’re not serious.”

The one with a bad case of acne threw his hands up in exasperation. “Dude, for fuck’s sake!”

Tobey looked over at the other man behind the video store counter, feet up, sketch pad in lap. “I think these guys are serious.”

The third teenager was pale and wore a lot of heavy black eyeliner. He spoke in a flat monotone: “Catwoman. Do you have it or not?”

Tobey broke into a lopsided grin. “Oh, I get it. This is like a prank, right? Where’s the hidden camera?” Tobey propped his elbows on the counter and leaned forward. “Am I gonna be on the internet?!”

Long Hair was reaching his limit. “C’mon, man, we just wanna rent the movie.”

Tobey’s grin dropped. “No joke?”

“Dude.”

“Catwoman?”

They were practically pleading. “Do you have it or not?”

Tobey stood back, somber. This was worse than he thought. “Holy fucking shit.” He turned again to the other guy behind the counter. “Kurt, these guys are actually serious.”

Kurt didn’t look up from his sketch pad. “Hm.”

Zits backhanded Long Hair’s chest. “This is ridiculous, man. Let’s get outta here.”

Almost through this, Tobe.

Eyeliner started for the exit. “Fuck these asswipes.”

Fuck me.

“Alright, you fucking hormone-addled, gene-pool rejects. Listen.” Tobey leaned forward. “I can appreciate the fact that the three of you otherwise fine young gentlemen are undoubtedly blinded by your adolescent throes of puberty––to saying nothing of the ungodly amount of jizz sprayed in your eyes from the nonstop circle jerk that is your formative years––so it stands to reason that the mere notion of Halle Berry sporting a whip and a leather catsuit is enough to make you pop your collective nut––which, again, I do understand. Halle Berry is a fine specimen of the female gender and I myself have spent many a lonely night pondering Ms. Berry’s lithe and supple … skills.”

Tobey lost himself for a moment and the three teenagers stared at him in confusion. Tobey nodded absently and then returned to the conversation.

“Fellas,” he implored. “All that being said, you cannot tell me that simple, unabashed horniness is just cause for what will amount to the severe rapage of your individual minds––a tragic and unavoidable fate that you will all most assuredly fall victim to should you proceed to rent the motion picture that is Catwoman.”

To buy themselves a moment to process Tobey’s rant, the three teenagers blinked at him.

“… yes?” Zits said, lacking any sense of surety of himself.

Tobey sighed. Definitely worse than he thought. With a sad shake of his head: “Look, let me make a suggestion. Go with Monster’s Ball instead. It’s got our girl in it, bare titties and all. Lots of sex plus it’s a flick that won’t rot your brain. It’s a goddamned win-win for everybody. Especially you.”

Tobey pointed at Eyeliner before changing his mind. “Well, maybe not everybody.”

Eyeliner’s face was as a neutral as his voice. “Isn’t she fucking Billy Bob Thornton in that one?”

“So?”

Zits scowled. “Dude, that is so fucking nasty! He’s all old and wrinkly and shit.”

Tobey wanted to ram an ice pick in his own ear. “What the actual fuck, my man? We've already established that you're watching the flick for Halle Berry's tits, not Billy Bob's ball sack! What the fuck do you care what he looks like?!”

“We don’t!” Long Hair cried. “We just care about Catwoman!”

Tobey threw his hands in the air. There was no reasoning with these kids. “Okay, fine. I see how it is. Get out.”

Incredulous offense from Zits. “What?!”

Ineffable deadpan from Eyeliner. “You’re throwing us out?”

“No. Right now I’m asking you to leave in a gentle yet firm manner, as to assert a polite yet authoritative dominance over this conversation,” Tobey said. “In about twenty seconds I’ll be throwing you out.”

“We just want to rent a movie!” Zits said through gritted teeth and mounting frustration.

“Incorrect,” Tobey responded, raising an index finger. “You want to rent shit. There is a difference, although I can see that the lack of immediate release has caused the cum to bubble up and disorient your brain cells, inhibiting logical cognition. Regardless, I don’t even carry Catwoman since I have a very strict policy on stocking crappy movies.”

Long Hair tilted his head, waiting. “What’s your policy on stocking crappy movies?”

Eyeliner with the deadpan punchline: “He doesn’t.”

“––I don’t,” Tobey said at the same time. He shot Eyeliner an exasperated glare. “C’mon, dude!”

Eyeliner shrugged a shoulder.

Tobey leaned forward. “Now why don’t you three numb-nuts find yourselves a tittie mag, have a circle jerk, and just be done with it already, okay?”

Eyeliner scoffed indifferently. “This is bullshit. Let’s bounce, boys.”

Tobey nodded. “That’s right. But be sure to use plenty of lube. Too much bouncing chafes the shaft.”

Zits lunged across the counter but Long Hair pulled him back. “Fuck you, asshole.”

Tobey glanced down and flipped a page in his Indie Film magazine. “Mm. Clever.”

Zits straightened. He had one card left to play and he was entirely too confident in the move. “Hey. I wanna speak to the manager. Dick.”

Tobey looked up from his magazine. “I am the manager, you dipshit. Now get the hell out of my store before I call the fucking cops and have them throw you out.”

The three teenagers exchanged looks before stumbling to the exit, muttering various expletives under their breaths as they went.

“Yeah, I heard all of that!” Tobey called after them as the bell on the door jingled.

“You handled that well,” Kurt said from behind Tobey.

“You could have jumped in at any time there, buddy.”

“Seemed like you had it handled,” Kurt shrugged.

A young woman stepped up to the counter. Straight blonde hair to her shoulders and curves that Tobey drank in an instant glance, imperceptible the casual observer.

She perceived it. She always did.

“He didn’t have it handled,” the young woman said flatly, placing three DVDs and a member card on the counter.

“I had it handled,” Tobey insisted while he scanned her card. “Sure, I could have used some backup from behind the counter but that’s not to dismiss the overall nature of the situation behind, generally, handled.”

Kurt set his sketch pad aside and fiddled with a television set on the counter. A low-quality video continued playing––it looked like someone had used a cheap video camera to record a movie theater screen.

The girl’s eyebrow went up. “Is that Star Wars?”

Tobey didn’t look. He didn’t have to since they’d been watching the bootleg on a loop for three days. “Yep.”

“The new one?”

“Uh-huh.”

“That just came out in theaters?”

Tobey looked up from scanning the DVDs. “Wow. You’re a regular Veronica Mars. Can’t slip anything past you.”

She all but rolled her eyes and he decided to dial back the sarcasm.

“Yes, Kurt downloaded it a few days ago,” Tobey explained. “I mean, yeah, I paid to see the first two prequels but there was no way in hell I was gonna be stupid enough to let George Fucking Lucas screw me out of another eight bucks for yet another pile of shit he so fondly refers to as epic Star Wars lore.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“It fucking should be.”

“I meant the downloading.”

Tobey held up the three DVDs. “I’m sorry, did you want to rent these movies—” he glanced at the computer screen, “––Alyssa Tanner of 9000 East Westmore Drive, apartment 263? Or is harassing me over my moral obligation to protest the misguided artistic values of a corrupt media empire entertainment enough for you?”

Kurt shot a sideways glance and muttered: “Misguided artistic values?!”

Alyssa shrugged indifferently. “I just thought that in light of your current career path, you might have a better appreciation for the damage caused by downloading movies illegally.”

Kurt put his feet back up on the counter as he turned his attention back to the sketch pad. “Here we go …”

“The damage I cause?!” The mock in Tobey’s outrage was mild at best. “What about the damage George Lucas caused with these blatant cash grabs? Have you seen all the advertisements for this one? He’s spending millions of dollars convincing the world that it’s the greatest film ever!”

“And you’re saying it’s not?”

“If it’s possible, this one is even worse than the last two combined,” Tobey said gravely.

“Dude,” Kurt said, pointing at the television. “It’s the Vader scene.”

Tobey’s hands went up. “Perfect!” To Alyssa: “This is what I’m talking about. This shit is fucking hilarious.”

Alyssa looked at the television as the bootleg copy of Revenge of the Sith played. Darth Vader found out that he killed his girlfriend, clomped around like Frankenstein and then cried out, ‘Nooooo!’

Tobey clicked the television off.

“The only good thing about this movie is that it’s so bad it’s funny,” he said. “We’ve been watching it for days and that Vader scene just keeps getting funnier.”

“You don’t think Lucas deserves a little credit for closing the loop on A New Hope?”

“Does Adolf Hitler deserve credit for closing the loop on World War II?”

“First of all, Hitler lost—”

“Which effectively closed the loop—”

“—and secondly, you’re comparing a movie to a war that literally killed tens of millions of people?!” Alyssa balked.

“I’m comparing three movies to a war that killed tens of millions––”

“Dude!” Kurt cut in.

Tobey sighed. “Fine. Okay. Maybe the prequels aren’t, like, genocide bad––”

“The fuck is wrong with you?”

“But they’re still pretty bad.”

At one point, not so long ago, Alyssa had been amused and slightly intrigued by Tobey’s acerbic banter.

That moment had passed.

An awkward silence clung to the air inside the video store. Alyssa glanced at the exit. Kurt’s pencil scratched at his sketch pad.

Tobey held up Alyssa’s rentals. “… you want your movies?”

She took them from Tobey. “Yeah. Thanks.”

She turned for the door and then stopped. “Um …”

“Three day rentals. Due back on Thursday.”

Alyssa turned back to the counter. She grimaced. “Actually, uh, that bootleg—”

Tobey held up a hand. “Wait. Are you saying—”

Alyssa shrugged half-heartedly.

“You wanna borrow my illegally downloaded copy of Revenge of the Sith?”

“I mean, if it’s so bad, you wouldn’t mind letting go of it for a few days,” Alyssa suggested. “Right?”

Tobey studied her grey eyes. There was something about this girl. He chewed his lip, thinking.

“Well?”

Tobey nodded slowly. “Okay, uh, lemme think of a creative way of saying this …” Tobey rubbed his chin and then raised an index finger to the sky. “Oh, I know!”

Tobey threw his hands in the air. “Nooooo!”

A VHS rewinder ground on old tape and Kurt cursed as he mashed the eject button, popping the machine open.

“Goddammit,” Kurt seethed. “Why the hell are we still stocking VHS?”

“Same reason we don’t open until four in the afternoon,” Tobey replied as he gathered an armful of DVDs to re-shelve.

“Because you’re too lazy to wake up in the morning?”

“No, because despite appearances, we’re here to serve our customers, Kurt,” Tobey said, strolling the aisles. “Working class Americans. The nine-to-fivers. People rent videos on their way home from work.” Tobey placed a DVD on the shelf. “Or in the middle of the night. There’s been studies. Or something.”

Kurt finished untangling the botched tape and tossed it into the trash. “So what you’re saying is that you’ve got a firm grasp on psychological makeup of our clientele.”

“I’m a savante that way.”

“An idiot savante, sure,” Kurt said with an eye roll.

Tobey placed another DVD. “People mock what they don’t understand.”

“So what about that girl, Alyssa?”

“Pretty sure nobody mocks her,” Tobey replied, scanning a shelf. “Fear her, maybe. Beauty is intimidating. Intelligence doubly so. Beauty and intelligence—”

“I meant her psychological makeup.”

Tobey shrugged absently. “If it’s anything like her physical makeup—”

Kurt sighed. “I mean: why does she come in so often? She was just here yesterday.”

Tobey glanced over at his long-time friend. “She had a two-day rental, Kurt,” he said flatly.

“And that explains why she was here for the past five days in a row, how exactly?” Kurt asked patiently.

Tobey pondered this half-heartedly. “She likes movies?”

Kurt went back to his sketch pad. “You’re an idiot.”

“I’m an idiot with a stalker, according to you,” Tobey said, shelving the last DVD and returning to his spot behind the counter.

“She’s not a stalker. She’s a nice girl.”

Naughty thoughts ran through Tobey’s head and his eyes went wide. “I bet she is.”

Kurt put his pencil down. “You know, people might actually like you if you weren’t so sarcastic all the time.”

“What are you talking about? People like me. You’re the one who pointed out that I have a stalker,” Tobey said. “Plus, you’re a person, too. You like me.”

Kurt tilted his hand back and forth. “Eh.”

Tobey shrugged indifferently. “Friends come and go. Porn is forever.”

“That sixty-inch TV in your bedroom working out well for you?”

Tobey turned and leaned against the counter, facing Kurt. “I watch it as I fall asleep so that I have pleasant dreams. Of vaginas.” Tobey spread his hands an arms-length apart. “Ten feet wide.”

“So what you’re saying is that the addition of the big-screen pornocopia has obviated any pressing need to actually be liked by the fairer sex?”

“Who needs to be liked when you have a stalker? Plus, there’s always Horatio.”

Kurt blinked. “Who the hell is Horatio?”

Tobey held up his left hand. “We have a very intimate relationship. He knows how to please me in ways that most women just don’t understand. And yes, the big screen pornocopia helps.”

The bell on the door jangled.

“A vagina ten feet wide?” Kurt asked.

“Ten feet wide.”

“You call your hand Horatio?”

“You spend all day drawing superheroes with their dongs out,” Tobey said.

Kurt nodded. “Point.”

“Good to see you’re being as professional as ever.” The voice came from the other side of the counter. It sounded tired and annoyed.

Tobey frowned and didn’t bother to turn around. He grabbed his film magazine. “You know what? Fuck off, my dude. I don’t have time for your shit right now.”

The man on the other side of the counter glanced around the empty video store. “I can see that,” he said. “These late hours of yours really keep the place hopping.”

Tobey sighed and deliberately turned around to face his older brother. “Fuck you very much, Walt.”

Tobey’s brother was two years older and looked about as tired as he sounded. A dark suit with a loosened tie, coifed hair grown limp, distinct bags under his eyes.

Walt help up his hands in a show of surrender, car keys dangling from his right fingers. “Just here to drop the car off. I’ve got a guy coming first thing in the morning to detail it. Karen’s picking me up in a few minutes.”

Walt tossed the keys to Tobey. They hit him on the chest and bounced on the counter. They stared at each other for an awkward moment.

Kurt focused intently on giving She-Hulk a very large, very veiny cock.

“Uh, last I checked, I’m not your fucking valet, Walt,” Tobey said.

Walt sighed wearily. “I’m not asking you to be—”

“Cause you just up and threw those keys like––”

“Tobey, we need to talk.”

“I really can’t see why.”

“Can we just––”

“Get the fuck out of my store, Walter,” Tobey growled from across the counter.

Walt ran a hand through his hair. “… it’s gonna be five years next month.”

Kurt glanced up and could see Tobey visibly tense, clenching his fists. He promptly looked back down.

“Yeah, so?”

“So …” Walt said slowly as he nodded. “… I want you to come visit them with me.”

Walt tried to meet Tobey’s eyes but the anger shooting across from his brother was brutal.

“… I think it’ll be good for you, Tobe,” Walt said softly.

“No.”

“Tobey––”

“I haven’t gone yet,” Tobey spat out the words. “I’m not going to go and I’m certainly not ever going to go with you.”

“Tobe––”

Tobey cut him off. “Just get the fuck out, Walt. You can wait for Karen outside.”

“I want to talk about the store.”

Tobey’s hands went up. “There it is! Jesus fucking Christ. You lasted all of two minutes that time, Walter. When are you gonna give that one up? They left it to me, cut and dry.”

Kurt decided that She-Hulk’s cock wasn’t big enough and needed to be more throbby.

Tobey shot lasers at his brother. “… you don’t have anything to do with Videorama.”

“Yeah. Okay. You’re right,” Walt conceded. “I haven’t had anything to do with the store for a long time. But that’s not how I want it to be.”

“Well boo-fucking-hoo,” Tobey spat. “It’s not like you have a lot of options since, again, they left it to me, cut and dry.”

Walt straightened his shoulders and looked up, meeting his younger brother’s icy gaze. “Tobey,” he said, “I want to buy the store.”

Tobey’s anger kept his mouth moving before the words registered. “Don’t even fucking––wait––no––what?”

Walt swallowed. “I want to buy Videorama from you.”

For once, Tobey had absolutely nothing to say.

In the silence, Kurt’s pencil slipped through his fingers and clattered to the floor.

“Oh, nooooo,” Kurt said through a quiet grimace.

###

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jordan Krumbine is a professional video editor, digital artist, and creative wizard currently quarantined in Kissimmee, Florida. When not producing content for the likes of Visit Orlando, Orlando Sentinel, or AAA National, Jordan is probably yelling at a stubbornly defective Macbook keyboard, tracking creative projects in Trello, and animating quirky videos with LEGO and other various toys.

Leave a dollar in the Tip Jar: https://ko-fi.com/krumbine

Short stories: https://bit.ly/2XY5D7I Books on Amazon Kindle: https://amzn.to/3bsqK5Y YouTube: https://bit.ly/2W41nSG Twitter: https://bit.ly/2VH0Vbu Facebook: https://bit.ly/2VpnylZ LinkedIn: https://bit.ly/2xnmk1e

http://www.krumbco.com

#krumbine #jordan krumbine #short stories #short story #fiction #VHS #star wars #episode 3 #revenge of the sith #writer #writeblr #amwriting #wip #may the fourth be with you

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pyropsychiccollector · 5 years

Text

Naezono Week, Day 5: Dream

Makoto’s eyes cracked open blearily as he soaked in his surroundings. Warm sunlight permeated the room through a window with its curtains drawn back. His hands sank into a nice, cushy mattress that he knew all too well – after all, the school he got accepted into spared no expense for the students who had to live on campus. Casually, he threw the blanket off his body and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes and stretching his weary bones.

As he smacked his lips thirstily, Makoto drank in more details of his average dorm room. Everything was as he remembered it, the previous night… and through the window, he could see the beautiful crystal blue sky with only a few white puffy clouds obscuring it. It was… a gorgeous day. Not a hint of pollution or dreary weather.

‘… Why does that feel so odd?’ Makoto mused to himself. It’s not like he should have been expecting anything else, right? As industrial as Tokyo could be, they were all pretty conscientious about the environment. And as far as he could remember, nothing spectacularly huge or devastating had hit the area… ‘… Huh. Well, whatever. I’ve gotta get going or I’ll be late!’

This thought was prompted by a glance at his digital alarm clock, which informed him that he had woken up early enough that Ishimaru wouldn’t chew him out… But you never could be too careful with the Ultimate Prefect. His high expectations had high expectations.

Makoto chuckled weakly to himself as he got undressed. That sounded too confusing, even in his own sleep-deprived brain. Togami or Fukawa would have called him an idiot, if he’d said that out loud… Not that he’d be dealing with them first thing in the morning, since they both were usually among the last to get to class every day… Point being, though, maybe he just needed to wake up with a nice, cool shower.

He couldn’t remember if he’d had one last night, after all.

~*~

It was always so interesting walking across campus in the morning. With so many colorful characters in the student body, and even amongst the staff, it kinda made each trip an adventure… Although to be fair, with every other student besides himself having some unique quirk, “abnormal” was the “normal” around here… Which made plain old him a guy that rather stood out, all things considered. So technically he was “unique”… at least around here.

And boy, did that make his brain hurt, thinking about it.

“Yo, Naegi.”

Makoto blinked as he registered the student that he was walking by had stopped and was addressing him.

“Kuzuryu-senpai…?” The Luckster greeted, curiously. He’d seen the yakuza heir around campus, of course. But the blond had never really shown much interest in him or much of Class 78, for that matter. What had changed his tune that morning?

Fuyuhiko leaned back a little in his stance as if he were appraising the Luckster for a brief moment before he spoke again.

“You doin’ okay? Gotten any headaches or anything?”

Makoto blinked more owlishly as he processed the question. Yeah, he was totally fine. A little fuzzy-headed when he first woke up, but it wasn’t anything a shower couldn’t fix. He told the yakuza heir as such.

“Well… go find Mikan or one of us, if you feel sick or whatever. Even those meatheads Akane and Nidai are supposedta be on hand… But if they’re too busy fucking around to help you out, just go find me or Peko, and we’ll straighten ‘em out.”

Makoto sweatdropped at how brusquely his senpai had put that… like Akane-senpai or Nidai-senpai were unruly yakuza he had to keep in line. Then again, Makoto had his fair share of bossy classmates, himself… At least Togami-kun gave them some Togami Corp. employee benefits.

Sometimes.

On his best days.

… And usually only for him, Sayaka, Kirigiri, Oogami, and Fujisaki. Oh, and sometimes Ikusaba.

… Togami-kun still needed time to warm up to their other classmates.

“I’ll… keep that in mind, senpai!” Makoto tried to muster his best reassuring grin – though he was pretty sure it also came off as sheepish. He didn’t want to get anyone in trouble, after all.

Fuyuhiko just nodded tersely and was on his way with a lazy wave. Makoto briefly watched him go before heading into the main building where classes were held.

“Every morning’s an adventure…” Makoto repeated to himself under his breath as he walked. He then smiled softly.

He was lucky to have such compassionate senpai.

~*~

Makoto yawned a little as the teacher droned on. For most of his classmates, all this stuff wasn’t really essential to their futures. With the skills they had, they were preparing for the future at a pretty good clip… They just needed to keep honing those skills.

Some of them were better off applying themselves academically, certainly. Some were even rethinking their career paths. For Makoto himself… Well, he didn’t feel confident enough to allow himself to skirt by on luck, like a certain senpai of his.

‘… Haven’t I heard this lecture before?’ Makoto wondered to himself as he wrote notes down. This lesson was vaguely familiar.

He didn’t get to ponder that for too long, though. He felt someone boring into the side of his head with their eyes, and when he craned his head to look, he found a pouty idol leaning forward on her desk, her lower face obscured by her arm. But her half-lidded eyes definitely confirmed she was pouting at him.

“M-Maizono-san?” Makoto asked quietly, not wanting to get caught by the teacher. Her voice being muffled by her arm made her equally quiet.

“You didn’t walk me to class…” Oh, the idol was definitely brooding now. Makoto could just see little storm clouds hovering over her pouty head.

Makoto blankly stared back at the idol for a few short moments before it hit him that was one of their traditions… and he’d zoned out on it. For some reason it felt natural to come by himself, if that made sense? But Makoto couldn’t see why that would be. He always enjoyed Maizono-san’s company in the mornings. She was his best friend, and always energized him – spurring him on to do his best every day, and to live life to the fullest. And in return, she confided in him about the more stressful parts of her career, and relied on him as a stable, comforting pillar in her life.

… He felt like a real heel right now…

“I’m sorry, Maizono-san…!” Makoto apologized desperately in a hushed voice. “L-Let me make it up to you, I promise!!”

And just like flipping a switch, the idol flashed a thousand watt smile and hummed contentedly.

“Call me Sayaka-chan from now on, and go on a date with me, and all is forgiven~…”

Makoto went as red as a tomato at being given permission to use her first name… Wasn’t that too intimate, even for best friends? Not to mention the part about the date… What would people say if they saw her out on a date with him? He was pretty sure she’d once told him about the rules idols had to follow, and-and besides, wasn’t it weird to ask your best friend to go out on a date...?

… Wait.

~*~

Sayaka giggled at his gobsmacked expression as they sat down on the bench at lunch. She hadn’t let him slip out of his ‘promise’, no matter how hard he stuttered out his protests – and apparently, she wanted to cash in on that “date” right away. Bad enough that he was “supposed” to be calling her Sayaka-chan, even in public where so many people could hear…

The Luckster really worried about his friend’s career, he really did. It just meant so much to her, and he really wanted her to succeed – she didn’t need to waste time on teasing him, just to satisfy any silly crush he had on her. He knew she was way out of his league.

“But I’m not teasing you.” Sayaka abruptly remarked, breaking Makoto out of his train of thought. Makoto blinked at the serious, concerned frown on her face.

… Then he realized what had just happened. Again.

“H-How did you…?!” Makoto spluttered in embarrassment. He couldn’t be that much of an open book, could he?!

But the idol just giggled.

“I’m an esper, silly! Sometimes I just activate my ability without even thinking!” Sayaka stuck out her tongue playfully. “… Kidding! I just have really good intuition.”

Makoto’s cheeks were glowing red by this point as he stared down at his lap in embarrassment. He fell into that trap again, hook, line, and sinker. Cheesy joke or not, her intuition really was amazing… and dead accurate at that.

“I am serious, though, Makoto-kun. I’m not leading you on.” Sayaka was shaking her head again, serious frown back in place. He looked back at her with morbid curiosity, not even the use of his first name distracted him as she went on. “Have you ever had regrets, Makoto-kun? The kind where you wish you could do something over again?”

Makoto frowned thoughtfully at the question.

“Well, yeah… I guess. Mostly small stuff, though – I can’t say I’ve had any real ‘major’ regrets…”

Sayaka then smiled sadly. There was a remorseful tinge to it that Makoto couldn’t quite place.

“Makoto-kun…” Sayaka laced her fingers through his and clasped their hands together consolingly. “Believe it or not, I think you do have at least one major regret. It’s the reason we’re here now. And… after everything, I think you of all people deserve this opportunity, even if it’s not permanent.”

Makoto’s brow furrowed at her words. He didn’t get it at all.

“You’re not making any sense… What’s this have to do with us… being here?”

The Luckster blushed as Sayaka leaned her head on his shoulder and just smiled peacefully as she closed her eyes. She looked ready to take a nap more than have their lunch together.

“You’ll understand eventually. And… I just want you to know…” When her eyes reopened and she planted a kiss on his cheek, Makoto’s blush deepened. Sayaka pulled back after a few moments but smiled warmly so close to his face. “You have amazing and considerate friends, Makoto-kun, but it wouldn’t have been possible for me to be here, if it wasn’t for you… I’m… I’m glad you’ve kept me in your heart all this time. I’m so happy to be here with you…”

Makoto yelped a little as the bluenette wrapped him in a warm, comforting embrace.

“S-Sayaka…?” The Luckster stuttered out, unsure if he should reciprocate the hug. The whole situation was still confusing him.

When Sayaka pulled back, she wiped away a stray tear, still mustering her warmest smile.

“I’ll make sure you graduate without regrets, Makoto-kun. I owe it to you after everything. And… I want you to know that I’ll cherish every moment of this as well. Just… Just think of this as a time of healing for us both, even if, in the end, you’ll be the only one to wake up.”

‘… even if I’ll be the only one to wake up?’

Makoto was still left thoroughly confused by the idol’s words and emotions, and she wouldn’t elaborate on it just yet – she promised she would explain it, at the end. At the time, Makoto thought she was referring to the end of their budding relationship…

… When the day inevitably came, he wished it had been that simple.

~*~

Note: I may come back and revisit this muse. Makoto placed in the Neo World Program after his friends (and senpai) see that he still carries the weight of Sayaka’s memory in him (as well as the weight of everyone else who died) - woof. I love how paradoxical it is, warm/comforting, yet so sad.

.... Plus, I get to write more of Class 77, and that’s always fun. XD To clarify why Makoto was reliving his days at Hope’s Peak, and not on Jabberwock Island, well... Hajime Hinata is the Ultimate Everything. He could modify that program so fast. lol

Also - I know I still have to write Days 4, 6, and 7. I just felt inspiration to write Day 5 tonight. :3

#Danganronpa #Makoto Naegi #Sayaka Maizono #Makoto x Sayaka #Naegi x Maizono #Naezono #Naezono Week #Naezono Week 2019

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nakediconoclast · 3 years

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Bracken: Professor Raoul X Posted on January 14, 2011

Western Rifle Shooters Association

It was late June and I was sitting in a café seven hundred miles from home, doing a little web surfing. There was plenty of room at mid-morning, so I could sit at the end of the coffee bar with my laptop. I was scanning the breaking news about the new mass-shooting. Like most people I was morbidly fascinated with the deranged young man who was the killer. That is, the trigger puller. But I was looking over his shoulder for something else: signs of a guiding hand.

Why? Because I know something about the subject.

You see, being a guiding hand is my life’s avocation. My secret avocation, that is. Outwardly I’m a tenured professor of sociology at a Mid-western university. A life-long bachelor, so my summers are my own. Ostensibly for writing, research, quiet reflection, bungee jumping or what have you. My summer hobby is traveling and meeting interesting people. Everything I do on these road trips can be explained under the rubric of field research, but even so I pay with cash and move like a ghost. I’m old school. It’s a harmless quirk. Nobody cares.

I suppose if you polled my students, they’d declare me to be left wing, but not a rhetorical bomb-thrower. Am I closer to Karl Marx than to Ayn Rand? Well, naturally. Progressive politics were part of my upbringing and education. And of course that is also the best way to get along in academia, and I do like to get along.

No question my academic career has been lackluster. That does not concern me. I have no wife or significant other to be concerned with my apparent lack of greater ambition or wealth. Seeking publication for papers that a few academic gnomes might eventually peruse does not interest me in the least. Writing some groundbreaking tome that will be reviewed in the New York Times and read by millions is not a realistic aspiration. I am no Jared Diamond in the rough. I won academic tenure, and that was enough. I have a house and a ten-year-old Beamer. I enjoy my little comforts. A small circle of friends, none close. I’d be the first to admit it’s been a mediocre life—outwardly.

But my secret life has been anything but mediocre. I have engineered extraordinary events, but truth be told, there is little joy in secret celebration. So I am creating this document, properly encoded and hidden, to save for posterity. When my unsurpassed run is finally over, due either to my natural demise or other more precipitous causes, my secret history will conjure itself from millions of computer screens unfiltered, unspun and uncut. The truth will be known. This is my story, and no one can take it from me. My name will ring down through the ages, when my complete story is told!

But not yet. There is more secret work to be done.

I did not drive seven hundred miles to ponder my life’s ledger and tap on a keyboard. What interested me was the creature standing on the other side of the white coffee shop counter. The gaunt, long-haired young man by the espresso machine could have been taken for a college student in a college town. Really not too bad looking in person. Pushing six feet, skinny. Gray-blue eyes, a little too closely set. Decent complexion for his age. Maybe a few days since his mouse-colored hair had been washed or properly brushed, but overall he was quite presentable. Duncan it said on his plastic name tag. I already knew that his last name was McClaren. I wasn’t in this picturesque college town by accident. I was here to meet him, but he didn’t know this.

Duncan McClaren was one of the most promising prospects I’d run down in years. My own students unknowingly provide me with many of my leads. We have free-ranging discussions, in and out of the classroom setting. From practice I know how to guide them toward a discussion of the weirdest people they’ve ever known. Duncan went to high school with one of my female students. His first name was mentioned casually by the student, tossed off her lips and promptly forgotten. Duncan sometimes heard voices, she said. Talked to himself. And he could not stop talking about whatever obsessed him at the moment. He cut right into conversations among people he hardly knew, and went off onto bizzaro-world tangents. And what really set him off was the country’s most famous talk radio host.

Following that disclosure I did my own internet research. There was only one Duncan listed in her year at her high school. As a professor, I stay on the cutting edge of internet trickery. A critical part of my secret avocation involves doing internet research without leaving digital fingerprints. My students constantly come up with what they believe to be new ways to cheat or plagiarize without detection, so I’ve become somewhat of an expert at internet security. I do not take risks. I’m a very careful person. Typing this secret history and hiding it inside my computer is perhaps the biggest risk I’ve taken.

In the course of my background investigation I learned that he had been expelled or otherwise ejected from high school numerous times. He’d been arrested and he’d been to juvenile boot camp. There were a number of sealed records and denied files, both medical and legal. But reading between the lines of what I could access, it was a safe guess that there had been serious drug use and there had been family violence. Rumors of arson at a very young age. His family had money and pull, and he was accepted for admission to an out-of-state institution of higher learning. His brief transcript was telling. His GPA for three completed semesters was made up equally of As and Fs. He had not finished his second year. No reason was given.

Since dropping out of college Duncan had been adrift for a year, hitchhiking around the country, supporting himself mostly as a dish washer or at other menial short-term jobs involving limited social interaction. On his own walkabout journey of self-discovery, to give him the benefit of the doubt. He was for the moment a barista in this New England college town, and I arranged for our paths to cross.

It’s always an intense moment, my first close look at a subject I’ve known only as an internet phantom. Duncan came over to take my order: regular coffee, with cream and sugar. When he filled my cup I laid a few dollars on the counter.

Duncan tapped the bills and said matter-of-factly, “So, somebody still believes in paper money.”

I looked directly at him and replied, “For some things, yes. Like paying for coffee.”

He returned my gaze, his eyes narrowed to slits and he said, “Smart. Fly under the radar. Render unto Caesar—while you can. But it’s all just a matter of time. Just a matter of time.” He slowly nodded his head, as if agreeing with himself.

To release his floodgates all I had to ask him was, “What do you mean?” Then I listened attentively to a five minute diatribe covering many tediously familiar theories and a few original ones. A thirtyish female with a severe hairstyle, whom I guessed was the café’s manager, edged over and tried to redirect my waiter. “Dunc,” she said breezily, “You’re not bothering this man, are you? No more talking about that bank stuff, right?”

Holding the full pot of hot coffee he slowly turned his entire body and fixed an icy glare upon her, but said nothing. He held his stare, boring into her with flat eyes. His arm seemed tensed to hurl the burning-hot brew at her. Her smile wilted, she turned and walked away. “She doesn’t understand,” said Duncan when she was gone. “Her mind is closed to the reality around her.”

“Does that bother you?” I asked him.

“I’m used to it. Ninety percent of humanity is closed off to reality.”

I laughed and said, “I think you’re giving humanity too much credit.”

He smiled in a peculiar way. One side of his mouth went up markedly while the other side remained nearly flat. “Yeah. Probably. Look, I have to serve some other humanity or I’m going to get canned. I’m on thin ice around here.”

Twenty-year-old Duncan, who had a post-graduate’s demeanor and a startlingly high IQ, had never held a job for longer than a month. He could operate independently in society as a functioning adult in most situations. He could shop for himself and drive a car. He’d briefly kept an apartment in college. But he could not hold a conversation without promptly veering into the Bush-family CIA dynasty, the truth about 9-11, the Jewish bankers, right-wing talk radio and God help me, the Queen of England.

Duncan was a bug. A raving lunatic. Yet in his outward appearance and mannerisms, he was as normal as you and I. But what does one’s outward appearance signify? The faces we show to the world are mere avatars, are they not? Who truly knows our inner hearts, our souls if you will? No one. Certainly not a God who doesn’t exist. So am I normal? Define normal. A sophomoric tautology. Yes, outwardly I can easily pass as normal, and I have for most of my forty-seven years. But inside? Honestly, what a question. Who wants to be no more than a random semi-conscious insect in a hive of billions?

Not me. No, I’m not normal, and have no desire to be.

Normal means average, and let me assure you, I’m way above average. Average people don’t make it their life’s work to ferret out certain types of borderline personalities and convert them into useful tools. As far as I know, I’m the only human toolmaker of my kind. No semi-sentient insect brain resides within my skull, making me a slave to laws, traditions or norms of so-called acceptable behavior. I operate outside of the rules of the hive, and I enjoy a freedom mere insects can never know. So what, you say? I’ll say what. By my actions I have personally changed the course of history, and I will do so again.

Can you say the same thing? What “normal” hive insect can claim to have done that?

Have there been others like me? I tend to think so, but it’s an area of pure conjecture. A familiar example. Most Americans dismissed the story of James Earl Ray’s mysterious helper, known only to him as “Raoul,” as a self-serving fantasy. I always thought that Raoul was more flesh than fantasy. James Earl Ray’s actions and travels before and after Memphis make me believe that he had assistance of the kind that I have given to some very special people.

If you take a ‘Parallax View’ of history, you might allow the possibility that rogue government agencies or other cliques could also be grooming likely candidates, but I tend not to believe in elaborate conspiracies. Could it happen? I suppose. But in my experience, no conspiracy involving a large cast of characters can remain a secret for many years.

On the other hand, the temporary private relationship between a mentor and a singular student, that relationship can indeed be kept a secret. My writing this secret history in freedom instead of in captivity proves that this is so. And even if one of my human tools is someday arrested alive, his mad barkings will be disregarded. His minor side-story of a mysterious helper, if heard at all, will be disregarded as just another in his cornucopia of delusions.

Converting a certain type of lunatic into a useful tool is not too difficult when you understand the dynamics that are in play. Practice makes perfect, and I’ve had a lot of practice. Good candidates for a direct action mission are often quite intelligent, at least as measured on certain scales. They can navigate by themselves between cities, and arrive at a place and time without causing alarm to the general population.

But in my experience the best candidates for a guiding hand are not true “loners.” They often seek friendship and employment, and they may even succeed for a while. But the men who interest me invariably sabotage their social relationships by compulsively discussing their paranoid obsessions. Each human rejection adds heat to their simmering rage. Yet still they crave human companionship, and simple affirmation of their delusional belief systems. This makes them soft putty at my touch. These men, deftly guided, become my arrows. To the world, these arrows seem to plunge at random from the clear blue sky. Sometimes they do, but not always!

It’s not hard to convert a lump of inchoate anger into an arrow. At first all I do is offer them a receptive ear, and confirmation that they are not alone in their beliefs. Our dialogues lead me toward the best approach to take. I adapt my temporary cover story to fit my current subject’s preexisting delusional views. In the past I’ve pretended to be a liaison from the CIA, from Mossad, from Al Qaeda. I’ve posed as a former leading member of the Trilateral Commission, now working against their globalist designs. Sometimes I’ve convinced them that their medications are part of a conspiracy to chemically lobotomize them, robbing them of their most brilliant insights.

After a few private conversations I eventually steer the subject to “doing something really important.” Hypothetically, of course. At least at first. Then we play a conversational game of, “If I could, I would.” A good prospect will soon be describing the precise medieval tortures, punishments and execution methods merited by his worst enemies. Once I have tapped into his personal fantasy realm of gory revenge, it’s “game on,” as they say in the vernacular.

At that point it really doesn’t matter to me who or what is the focus of the subject’s hate, or what group he blames for his own shortcomings or for the ills of the world. Left, right, capitalism, socialism, religion, nationalism…in truth I stopped caring very much about them long ago. When an action will advance the cause of social justice that’s great, but generalized mayhem is also a worthy end in itself. “The worse, the better,” in Lenin’s words. Create the pre-revolutionary conditions. Some days I still half believe the old dogma. But at least I’m not just another insect in the hive.

I slid my empty cup away, and awaited the return of my barista. In a minute I’d be commiserating with him, discovering that we were practically soulmates, rare men of true vision. Posing as an out-of-town business visitor, I’d ask him the best place in the area to eat. It would turn out that he and I shared similar culinary and beverage tastes, fancy that! And I’d gladly spring for lunch or dinner if he’d agree to be my local guide. Then we’d discuss further his hatred for the Jewish bankers who run the world, and the right-wing talk radio hosts who are their willing accomplices and mouthpieces. At least, in the world according to Duncan McClaren.

Right-wing talk radio was very much on my mind, because one of the icons of that loathsome industry was going to be passing through the region two weeks hence. Ben Rafferty wasn’t the king of right-wing hate radio, but he was one of the rising princes, nearly up there with the big three. Currently he was on a national book tour, promoting his latest toxic spill of racist hate-speech. Oh happy day, his entire schedule, with bookstore locations, dates and times, was available online.

I’d discovered some other useful information in an interview Rafferty had given to a pro-gun blog. The talk host traveled without an armed bodyguard, due to the vagaries of conflicting state gun laws. This was particularly a problem when flying into New York or New Jersey. It was just too damn hard to stay in compliance with a thousand local gun laws that could cause you to be imprisoned over a technical firearms violation. So instead of an armed bodyguard, he had some kind of karate guy for protection. An ex-soldier who had been wounded in one of America’s wars of imperialism. Poor Ben Rafferty, who never saw an assault rifle he didn’t want to French kiss, couldn’t have a gun during his East Coast book tour. Beautiful.

The imminent proximity of Duncan McClaren and Ben Rafferty had brought me seven hundred miles to this coffee shop. With a little stroking and massaging of Duncan’s twisted and deformed ego, I hoped to convince him that his empty life could at long last have genuine meaning. He could make a real difference! He could change the world! He could accomplish something important, and be remembered forever. I already had an untraceable pistol to provide him, if he proved receptive to my guiding hand. Oh, the mayhem potential, when one of the leading right-wing haters is finally knocked off! Mayhem-fest, indeed. Mayhem squared. Mayhem cubed!

Radio talker Ben Rafferty meant nothing to me, but he had millions of rabid right-wing followers who clung to his every screech and scream for three hours a day. After Duncan McClaren approached the book-signing table, pulled out his pistol and gave his miserable life meaning, Rafferty’s fans would rise en masse in blind rage. And a few of his most rabid fans, feeding their own dark fantasies, would predictably strike out in violent reprisal against progressive leaders. Secondary explosions, if you will. A chain reaction, possibly my greatest work ever.

Duncan returned to my end of the bar when he saw my empty cup. While he poured my refill I quietly said, “You know, you’re right about those Jewish bankers and how they control talk radio. They’re all in New York, right? I mean, most people have no idea what’s going on around them.”

His eyes widened and a half-smile formed on his lips. He set the coffee pot down and leaned on the counter until his nose was a foot from mine. One eyebrow raised in expectation above the high side of his demented grin. He glanced back down the counter to see who was in earshot and then said, “You know about the Illuminati, right?”

Did I ever.

I smiled.

This plan might actually work. I’d know better after a long conversation with Duncan McClaren in a dark restaurant. Duncan might be my masterpiece, the one to light the fuse of Civil War Two. And if he does, eventually I want the world to know who handed him the matches, the gun and Ben Rafferty’s book-signing schedule.

But for now just call me Professor Raoul X, a guiding hand of history.

*************************************

Fiction by Matthew Bracken, author of the Enemies Foreign And Domestic trilogy and the upcoming Castigo Cay.

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nextgenerationpayroll · 5 years

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Transition From Employee to Entrepreneurship

Starting The Path of Entrepreneurship

Make up your mind that you are going to be one or the other and don’t look back. Decide if you are going to be an entrepreneur for the rest of your life or an employee who will work for someone else. Choose to grow up the corporate ladder, accept a position that provides security, certainty, and a cushy salary. The alternative is a position that has no glass ceiling, no person to report too, unfathomable earning potential, unforeseen risk and rewards beyond your imagination. Entrepreneurship can be an amazing rollercoaster ride, filled with both high and low points. Above all, it should be an experience you’d never take back.

Figure out which career choice is going to be the most meaningful and fulfilling. First, decide what you want to accomplish in life, then start making plans and setting goals for yourself. Pondering about starting a business won’t make a business come to fruition, but your actions can create a new reality.

Write a Business Plan

To make a dream a reality, you have to breathe life into it and start walking in it. We are way past the days in which we can watch a Disney movie and expect everything to work out perfectly where the hero wins at the end. Therefore, do not expect it to be all sunshine and rainbows when it comes to your business. You must plan for success because it surely won’t fall into your lap. Download a business plan template and jot down your ideas, objectives, vision and action plan for success. This will help you solidify your business’s foundation. If you happen to have a partner(s) or key employees at an early stage of the business. You may want to identify each participant’s strengths and weaknesses while creating and defining roles for the person(s) running the company.

Get a mentor or business advisor

Develop your team of references, consultants & mentors who will guide you in your business growth. Successes multimillion-dollar revenues companies all have started where you are. Don’t be mistaken, fortune 500 companies have outside consultants to come in and help change a company’s direction and lend them new perspectives to better their business. Before you embark on your new adventure, find people that will usher you down the right path. A mentor should be someone who currently or previously managed a profitable business. Find someone who has experience in your industry so that they provide you valuable insight. Mentors who specializing in marketing, accounting or a legal profession, for example, maybe great if those areas are not a part of your core strengths or experience.

How will you penetrate your market?

The bottom line is that you must figure out how you are going to draw in people to patronize and invest in your business. Hence, before you launch your business make sure you have multiple channels of earning revenue. Once you have clientele rolling in, running a business is easy. Until then, sales and revenue generation will be more of an uphill battle. Even when you arrive at a comfortable spot, keep on pushing for more.

Develop a marketing strategy that allows you to grow your client base so that you can substantially grow over time. Ask yourself the following questions:

How Many revenue streams do you have in your business?

How much revenue do you hope to gain in years 1, 2 and 3?

Are you able to compete for a fair market share?

Will you primarily sell products online or have a storefront location?

Which social media platforms are best for promoting your business?

Will you use digital advertisements, radio or google adds to reach customers?

What about ranking on Google, Bing and Yahoo search engines?

We’ve grown into a company that provides marketing solutions for small businesses so that we can help you get to where you’d like to be.

Implement A Content Marketing Strategy

Get a professional website built and implement a strategy to gain google rankings so people can find you online. One common mistake I see is that small business owners start their business without a marketing budget which is a huge no-no. Social media platforms are great, but they are only a small fraction of the equation. One mistake I see small business owners make is that they believe these platforms are going to be their businesses savior. They won’t help you in terms of bringing in tons of new clients to increase your market penetration.

Become A Subject Matter Expert

In today’s world, consumers consult industry experts for advice and guidance before they initiate a transaction. People ready articles, follow bloggers, they watch videos that help them make informed decisions. Why not be the person who enlightens their views, earns their trust and subsequently earns their business.

Businesses Failure: Know The Risk Factors

Just like you need to know how you can win and be successful, you also need to know how you can fail. You need to know all of your setbacks that you can potentially face starting and running a business. Hence, the importance of having a mentor in your industry and a tenured business owner as a resource.

Don’t Follow Stupid Advice

People say that you gotta fall and get back up again and learn from it. Fail and get back up and repeat the process until you have the experience. You must crawl before you walk. Says who? I’d like to call BS on that one. I definitively say no to that! History does not have to repeat itself; I firmly believe that to be true. Therefore, you don’t have to make the same mistakes people made before you.

Be A Wise Entrepreneur

Don’t you think it would be better to learn from other business owner’s negatives experiences anyway? Let’s be smart about running a business rather than walking into it blindly while headed toward a cliff. Don’t be the stupid cartoon character that walks off the cliff, only to later find out he’s walking on air. Take the time to understand the risk factors involved in running a business before you take a leap of faith.

Secure Startup Capital

I started my company with an investment from a good friend. I had been casually telling him about this business plan that I wrote, and he found confidence in my plan and was thoroughly convinced this was going to work. Even though I was not asking for any money or help, he invested in me. The same can happen to you.

Make sure you explore all avenues to funding your business. Conventional financing and the less traditional methods of funding a business. Bank loans, investors, business grants, friends or family may be great funding sources for a new business venture. The use of personal savings or a 401k may be on the table for some.

Entrepreneurship Become A Reality

Apply for an Employer Identification Number (EIN) with the IRS by and register your business name with the state that you reside in. At the point in which you receive your EIN with the IRS, your business is official. You have taken a dream and made it a reality. I recommend you take some time to explore which business entity type best suits your company. In short, each entity has varying tax advantages, liability limits, and legal implications to consider.

Transition To Entrepreneurship

Start the transition. Ask your current employer if you can reduce your hours from 40 a week to 30 a week. Also, ask if they can be more flexible to allow you to work nights or weekends. Thus, freeing up time to grow your business. Flexibility can come in different ways, you may ask to work 4 days a week instead of 5 days a week. You can ask that you add 1-2 half days during the week as well. If your current employer is not able to provide the flexibility you need, perhaps you seek out another employer who can. Perhaps maybe you are one of the people who take the leap of faith, cash in your 401k or savings and hit the ground running…

The Focus of Next Generation Payroll

We want to wish you all the success in the world in your future adventure. If you have a business existing, great! We prayerfully hope that all is going well and trending upward. We here are Next Generation Payroll want all businesses to success and are happy to help you along the way. When I started the company, I didn’t imagine that we’d focus so much on the day to day operations of a business, but this is who we are now. We have blossomed into a business solutions company that provides fresh perspectives to businesses that leads to growth and prosperity. Likewise, we provide resources and tools for people like you to build a strong foundation so that companies can weather any storm that crosses their path. We are all about learning expertise that makes business better.

Tips For Entrepreneurs: Dedicate your time to what is most important

We know that Payroll services may or may not be apart of your business plan right now, but we are here to help. Above all, you may need us, and we’d like to be here for you now. Perhaps, you are considering outsourcing payroll, feel free to read the article should I outsource payroll and why people change payroll providers for assistance. I am a firm believer in maximizing the time-value of money, therefore, capitalizing on every opportunity to build revenue. One major benefit to outsourcing payroll is it allows a business to offload burdening tasks to 3rd parties for nominal fees. Ultimately allowing you Redirecting your time to developing a sustainable business and perusing endeavors that propel you forward.

#entrepreneur #startup #business #smallbiz #businesstips

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nautiscarader · 7 years

Text

Wendip Week 2017 - Day 1, Meet the parents

(My fanfiction masterpost) (Read on Ao3) (Read on FF)

Rated: G, older!Wendip story

Dipper is about to meet Wendy’s father, officially as her boyfriend. What could go wrong?

- Hi! I'm Dipper Pines, remember me, Mr. Corduroy? - Of course he remembers you, you doofus. We helped him find his stolen beard last month. Not to mention all the other times we did something around the forest while he kept screaming "You crazy Pines go back to your crazy house of crazy craziness!".

Dipper threw an angry look to his sister, shuffling through the pages of her magazine. For the better part of last hour, she's been trying to help prepare Dipper for an official meeting with Wendy's father, although so far, her support turned out to be nothing but collection of casually thrown snarky responses.

- Alright then. - Dipper cleared his throat and tipped his hat to his reflection - Hi, mr Corduroy! I'm so glad I can finally have a dinner with my girlfriend's father... - Are you really glad, though? - Of course not! - Dipper shouted - He's a walking mountain that could crush me with his little finger! If I say anything wrong, then I'm dead, do you understand that?

Mabel rolled onto her back and let out a deep sigh.

- Dipper, you are doing it again. - What? - You're over-thinking things - she finally looked at her brother's frowned face - You've spent so much time prepa- is that a bow-tie?

They both stared at the curious bit of Dipper's attire that stood out from the rest of his vest and shirt.

- Okay, this has to go. - It will work, Mabel! I've got something neater to wear it with. - Dipper, they are lumberjacks. - Mabel sighed, looking at her brother flipping through his set of identical, white shirts - They only know one colour: PLAD. If you wear a suit, they're gonna take you for a penguin!

A loud sound of a car horn interrupted the twins' bickering, but eased none of the tension Dipper was suffering from.

- Oh my god, she's here! I'm late! - In a car? What for? - Mabel raised her brows and jumped to her feet as well

And indeed, when Dipper opened the triangular window, the source of the sound turned out to be a green jeep, driven by the red-haired park ranger, Wendy Corduroy. She waved at her boyfriend through the car's roof, that was not so much "open" as "turned into a molten bit of metal about a week ago". Seeing his silhouette, Wendy pressed the horn once again, hastening Dipper's arrival.

- Hi, Wendy! What's going on? - Dipper exclaimed, running through Mystery Shack's door without any care, leaving them open. - I got an unexpected call, do you want to come with m- What are you wearing?

Dipper looked down, noticing that in the minute he had to finish dressing up, he has managed to put on his blue vest over the pristine, ironed white shirt, as well as socks of distinctively different colours. And the bow-tie.

- Sorry, I was preparing for the dinner! - he apologised, giving her a quick peck on her cheek, as he hopped to the passenger's seat - So, what's the problem? - We got call from the Multibear. Their daughter is missing. - Oh no! Bear bear? - Dipper yelped - Yeah. She's not a kid anymore, but still, things can go wrong. Hold on tight.

Dipper managed to lock his seatbelt a split of a second before he was pushed into his seat, as Wendy released the gas pedal and drove straight through the woods to the mountains towering over the treetops.

The term "park ranger" is a bit misleading. It implies a person that takes care of a park, but no one sane would ever use that word to describe the forests around Gravity Falls. Regulations, no matter how strict would fall flat on unicorns demanding supplies of glitter, or gnomes declaring their dens independent nations at least twice a year. The word "ranger" is also ill-fitted; no group of people would be able to range over the vast, ever-changing terrain of the Gravity Falls forests, that might look perfectly fine on Monday, but could be completely unrecognisable by Friday. And yet, when mayor Cutebiker decided that something should be done to protect the citizens of Gravity Falls from the forest creatures (as well as the other way around), the idea of "park rangers" was the most sensible one that was proposed. That position certainly wouldn't be Wendy's first choice of career, if not for the fact that nearly absolutely everyone else was terrified about the prospect of keeping the forests under control. It meant, however, that in Summer she would get to spend a bit more time with Dipper and Mabel, who, while not rangers themselves, provided much insight into the three key parts of the local ecosystem: fauna, flora, and the unknown. And truth to be told, the forests and the creatures could mostly take care of themselves, giving Wendy arguably even more free time than during periods of no visitors in the Mystery Shack.

As they drove up, Dipper remembered the first time he had to traverse the long road to the caverns atop the mountains surrounding Gravity Falls to prove his manliness to the clan of Manotaurs by killing the Multibear they were going to visit now. The very same reason pushing Dipper to these ridiculous quests was now keeping her focus on the bumpy, rocky road.

- What? Is there something wrong?

In the corner of her eye Wendy noticed that for the last minute or so, Dipper kept staring at her, sitting motionlessly in his seat.

- What? No, nothing. - Dipper quickly answered - I just like you in that outfit, it goes, uh, well with your eyes. And the, uh, the hat, I think it looks great too.

Wendy returned a polite, warm smile.

- Dip, I hope you're not making some sort of list of small-talk jokes and praises for tonight, like this one. Dad doesn't like those, he can smell them. - What? Me? Never! - Dipper retorted and tucked his hand deeper into his pocket pushing the piece of paper he spent his last night on. - It's just I- - It's here.

Wendy stated firmly, rescuing Dipper from an awkward dead-end he got himself into, as they reached a giant, ominous cave at the very end of a windy road. The two adventurers got from the car, took their backpacks and wiped their boots on the colourful doormat, before they rang the doorbell.

- Al-right, al-right, one head at a time! - Wendy shouted through the cacophony of ten jaws of the Multibear trying to explain what happened - So far, I got that she was sick, she got fed up with her favourite band, she thought the porridge was too hot, too cold, just enough, all at the same time. I, I need some clarification.

Wendy put away her notepad, trying to calm the distressed creature.

- Multibear, just tell us what happened, step-by-step. We're gonna help you. - Dipper joined Wendy in her consolations

Ten loud sneezes into ten large handkerchiefs later, the Multibear told their story anew.

- So, she hasn't come home tonight, and wasn't that keen on talking for the last month or so... - Wendy pondered. - Have you tried searching for her before you called us? - Of course! We went that way!

Wendy was quick enough to push Dipper from the reach of the claws, before the arms of the Multibear pointed, predictably, in seven different directions.

- Please, help us! She only has two heads! - Multibear, don't worry, we will find her! - Dipper quickly assured them. - Okay... we're gonna start the search, and we will contact you if we find anything. - Wendy spoke unsteadily, giving her boyfriend a knowing nudge with her elbow.

The two rushed to the door, and only when they exited the cave, Wendy spoke.

- Dipper, you don't say "don't worry" to someone, whose kid got lost. Worrying is kinda a part of the deal. And she obviously has tried searching for her. - Wendy fumed - I'm sorry, Wen! - Dipper apologised profusely, getting into the car - I sometimes panic with stuff like that. That's why you do the talking, you're way better than me. - That;s cos' I got experience, Dip. - Wendy smiled - Three brothers, and one more baby to scold at now. - Wait, who are you talking about?

Only when Wendy gave him another smug smile, Dipper threw his arms into air with a loud "Come on!" that only cheered his girlfriend, opening the series of teasing that lasted all the way down the mountain.

After less than an hour of searching, Dipper was the first to notice oddly broken tree branches, paving their way down the forest.

- Wendy, I think she was here. - Well, it was something big. - she added - Actually, two of somethings.

The ground beneath them was filled with two overlapping trails, though both Wendy and Dipper had difficulty telling which series of paw-prints started and ended, or how many of paws each one had. Without any doubt, however, the mixed trail lead them to another cave underneath the mountain they drove from.

- Is that cave on the map? - No, it wasn't there last time we checked! - Dipper exclaimed, opening a large map - And that was last month, so Multibear's story makes sense. Something's fishy here.

Equipped with torchlights and guns with sleeping darts, the two adventurers followed the path up to the entrance of the cave, masked with a simple net of sticks and leaves. The two gave each other a knowing nod and held their hands one last time before pushing the provisional door away. As much as they both would like to make sure the other one is secure, four ready hands were better than two, providing better protection than the strongest infatuation. From the very start it became obvious that the creature, or creatures, had problems with the height of the cave. The middle of cavern's roof nearly looked like a cartoon cut-out of some enormous head trying to push through the rock. As the two ventured down the steep slope, Dipper tried imagining what animal could leave such unique markings. But when they saw a light at the end of the tunnel, they both spoke its name under their breath.

A horned silhouette of a manotour was visible on the wall in front of them, giving Wendy and Dipper some idea behind Bear bear's disappearance. It didn't help the fact that the manotour stood next to a huge steaming cauldron, and a sound of bones cracking and meat chopping reached Wendy and Dipper's ears. The two gave each other one final nod, prepared their weapons and crept towards the angled turn. The stench of a stew made from unknown meat filled their nostrils as they were about to lean over the wall, causing both of them to hold their breath for a moment.

- And it's finally ready... Bear... - the deep, husky voice of the manotaur reverberated through the thick air.

Dipper and Wendy looked at each other, their eyes wide with both fear and determination, and on her mark they leaped from around the corner, ready to stun the manotaur.

- Don't move, manotaur! And tell what you did to Bear bear! - Ah! Humans! Help! - the manotaurs shrieked in a voice much higher than either of them expected, dropping the metallic bowl that landed on the rocky floor with a loud clunking noise. - Oh, no, honey, your soup! - said a third, feminine voice.

Wendy lowered her gun and was about to instruct Dipper to do the same, but her boyfriend already seemed to have realised what was going on and stared, unable to shoot or aim, at the bizarre sight in front of them.

The bowl of spilled soup laid on the floor, to the dismay of two creatures: a manotaur in a pink kitchen apron, and a female multibear, with her four arms around her two heads, cowering in fear. She sat by a large, decorated rock table with two sets of utensils and a flowerpot in the middle of it.

- What the heck...? - You're not going to hurt us...? - Bear bear lowered her arms, staring at the two intruders. - Gosh no, of course not! - Wendy explained, tucking her gun behind her back. - We, uh, sorry for the intrusion, but we got call from your...uh, mom, and we're not really sure what happened to you, so... - Oh come on, Wendy. - Dipper interrupted - They are dating, isn't it obvious?

The brown face of the multibear blushed with red tint, matching the red skin of her boyfriend. Wendy moved her eyes from one to another, finally getting the whole picture.

- But, shouldn't manotaurs be hating multibears...? Or has something happened in the last year? - Most of us do.

The large horned creature, who was wiping the fluid from the floor for last minute or so stood back and faced Wendy.

- Hi, I'm Razortaur. - Uh, hi, I'm Wendy, and that's Dipper. - she reached to shake the enormous hand of the manotaur towering over her. - So, you guys live here? - He was probably banished from his tribe - Dipper interjected once more. - Or something, the manotaurs seem to have lots of weird rules.

The cavern shook again, when Razortaur slammed his fist against the table, breaking off a part of it.

- Razor, darling, don't get upset, they didn't mean to. - Bear bear closed gently her three paws around the manotaur's fist. - Of course they banished me. They think I'm weak because of my love to you, my dearest!

To both Dipper and Wendy's surprise, Razortaur lowered his head and begun weeping into Bear bear's shoulder.

- I was told to kill her as my trophy to prove my manliness! - he roared - But I couldn't kill someone of such beauty...

Razortaur cupped her closest mouth with his other hand, giving her a quick, oddly disproportionate-looking kiss.

- Listen, guys - Wendy started - I hate to interrupt you, but your mom is seriously worried about you. And they knows something is up. - But I can't go back! - Bear bear cried - They will hate me for dating our mortal enemy. - Of course they won't. - Dipper retorted, sitting on the stone bench next to her - They love you, and will understand you, I'm sure of it. - Are you, though...? - Wendy whispered, giving him another subtle nudge. - Well, what else can we do to help them? - I don't know, you do the talking. You seem way better at it.

Wendy sent him a cocky smile, stunning him momentarily, as he understood he was in charge now.

- I really think you should go back to Multibear now. - Dipper replied to the creatures - Both of you, in fact.

Razortaur raised his head, staring at Dipper with utmost confusion in his eyes.

- But... What if she hates me as well? - Listen, I know it may be hard to confront your girlfriend's parent. - Dipper calmly replied - I mean, you are a manotaur, and she's a multibear- - No, no, I'm not worried about that. - Razortaur quickly replied - Well, maybe a bit. But what if she doesn't like me as her daughter's boyfriend? What if I do something wrong, like eat honey with a spoon instead of a hand?

Dipper turned his head and exchanged a smile with Wendy, feeling the fingers of her hand intertwining with his.

- Well, in worst case scenario, at least you will know it. Can't live in uncertainty forever, can you? - Actually that was our idea. - Bear bear suddenly replied - We spent two weeks decorating this place! - Okay, aside from that - Wendy took over from Dipper - I think Dipper is right. And we can vow for you that nothing nefarious is going on here.

The table shook again when Razortaur suddenly stood up, raising his fist into the air, and subsequently, the roof.

- You are right, tiny humans! - he roared - I cannot cower in fear anymore! Quick, to your parent's cave!

Before Wendy or Dipper could react, the manotaur took his girlfriend into his arms, who in return grabbed them and flung the pair of adventurers onto his back, covered in thick hair they could grab onto. With three extra passengers, Razortaur ran with surprising ease, getting to the exit of the cave in no time, and traversing the rocky road much faster than their jeep could.

- Okay, this is the moment. - Wendy put her arm on Bear bear's back, giving her much needed bit of courage.

- When do I come in? - Razortaur's voice reached Dipper's ears from the corner he was hiding behind. - We're gonna give you a sign. - Dipper whispered. - Oh, and one more thing.

Dipper ran to the Razortaur, took the bowtie from his neck and placed it crudely in his thick chest hair.

- Now you look the part, buddy. - Dipper patted his back, before running back.

The doorbell rang again, and the figure of Multibear appeared in the doorway.

- My child!

From the side, Dipper and Wendy could safely observe the heart-warming scene of mother and daughter hugging and exchanging kisses with combined twelve snouts, and wait until the right moment arrived.

- But what happened? - the Multibear reached to Dipper and Wendy - Where was my Beary bear? - Mom, don't call me that. I'm a grown up now. - the two mouths of younger multibear cried in anger - And, I want you to meet someone.

Dipper and Wendy grunted, and moved aside in unison, opening the road for Razortaur to appear. As they both predicted, Multibear was taken aback, but remained restrained, so neither of them had to use their stun guns.

- This... This is Razortaur. And, uh, he's my boyfriend, mom. - Afternoon, uh, mrs Multibear. I'm Razortaur. - the manotaur stepped from the behind the turn, fixing his bowtie, and digging his hoof nervously in the ground. - And your daughter was taking care of me when my tribe banished me. She was really sweet, and all of that.

Ten mouths gasped in awe and disbelief, before ten arms closed around manotaurs' neck and back.

- I'm glad he omitted the whole "daughter killing" business - Dipper whispered to Wendy, getting a soft giggle in response - Well... That's not what I expected - the Multibear admitted through tears - Would... Would you like to come in? - Oh, it would be my pleasure. - Razortaur smiled - And you can come too!

Multibear turned to the two humans standing somewhat cautiously by the rocky wall, once again hiding their guns behind their backs.

- I didn't even thank you properly for finding my daughter. - Not a problem, Multibear. - Dipper replied, tipping his hat. - And anyway, we have to attend, uh, another dinner now. - Yeah, that was one heck of surprise, but we have to go. - Wendy added - We're glad everything turned out fine for you and Bear bear.

Arms of the multibear closed again, this time around Dipper and Wendy, smashing their bodies together and soaking them with salty, motherly tears.

- At least now you will have to get a change of clothes... - Wendy wheezed through her teeth. - And it can't be worse than this, can it? - Dipper smiled, wondering how long will Multibear's hug last.

- Are you ready, dude?

In an oddly reminiscent fashion, Dipper stood in front of the large, wooden door of the Corduroys' house, still feeling a bit scared to make the first move. As if she could read his mind, Wendy took his hand and they both pressed the doorbell, and knocked the door a couple of times, just to be sure.

No one answered back.

- Dad, guys, we're home! - Wendy shouted, wondering why her father wasn't responding. - Uh, mister Corduroy, sir? It's me, Dipper Pines!

Suddenly, a loud, thundering series of approaching footsteps echoed through the house, giving both Wendy and Dipper an obvious sign to move out from the door, expecting Manly Dan to appear any moment now. Instead, however, not only he, but Wendy;s three brothers burst through the door, clinging their hands to their unnaturally weird looking faces.

- My beard! They stole my beard again, damn pelicans! Why would they do that?! And my boys' too!

Wendy was first to reach to her father's back to give him a consolatory hug, leaving Dipper to get lost between the three crying beardless Corduroy brothers. Wendy gave Dipper a silent nod, and once she freed him from her family, they ran to her car again, knowing that their dinner might turn into a late supper today.

Author’s note: To all of you claiming that the multibear didn’t sound female, had different number of mouths, or arms, or the fact that pelicans do not steal beards, I have just this to say to you.

#wendip #wendipweek #wendip week #wendy x dipper #dipperxwendy #gravity falls #dipper pines #wendy corduroy #nautiscaraderfics #older!Wendip #meet the parents

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spotlightsaga · 7 years

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Kevin Cage of @spotlightsaga reviews… GLOW (S01E07) Live Studio Audience Airdate: June 23, 2017 Ratings: @netflix original/Privatized Ratings Score: 9.5/10 TVTime/FB/Twitter/Tumblr/Path: @SpotlightSaga

**********SPOILERS BELOW**********

The greatest thing about pro-wrestling is that it’s literally a live show, anything can go wrong (or horribly right). Even shows like NXT, Lucha Underground, ROH, PWG specials, shows that are filmed, then edited, then sent out as a television series or a digital copy (since DVD’s & even BluRays are becoming obsolete) can go way off script. When improvisation is introduced into the wrestling show, that’s when the magic begins. Recently a troll on FB attacked one of our articles on A&E’s ‘60 Days In’. After a well pieced together article that covered what we thought were 'producer pushed situations’ vs what was occurring naturally in the series (it’s kinda hard to fake an entire REAL jail, considering they need the space), he simply skipped over everything I had written from the heart and wrote one little line, “You know this is fake, right?” He clearly didn’t read it. After my retort, he brought up pro-wrestling… Ah, he done did it now! Any tried & true fan of professional wrestling will defend their sport or 'Sports Entertainment’ (whatever you want to call it) to the death. Of course everything is planned in advance; the moves, the winners, the storylines… But it’s the pageantry, the training, the real risk of physical injury, the freedom that some wrestlers have in their promos, and an array of other variables, that make pro-wrestling so damn great and have seen it survive for well over a century.

'Live Studio Audience’ captures all of that AND MORE. As a matter of fact, we want to go ahead and nominate this very episode as one of the best of the year for a 30 Minute Comedy or Drama. We get it all… The thrill and excitement of the very first GLOW Live Show ever, the anxiety & stage fright that comes with it as we see Machu Picchu (Britney Young) run for the hills without even getting inside the 20x20, a overworked and panicked Bash (Chris Lowell) abandoning the possible financial future of the show to console Carmen in her 'emotional distress’, two women taking a chance - Cherry Bang (Sydelle Noel) & Tammé the Welfare Queen (Kia Stevens) instinctively changing the direction & storyline of their match without anyone else aware of their scheme besides the newly 'white sheet wearing’, transformed 'Beatdown Biddies’, Stacey (Kimmy Gatewood) & Dawn (Rebekka Johnson) - who’s main concern is if Bill Cosby will be mad at them… Literally changing the match from the uber-cliché, women of color beating up on the elderly to two bad ass, strong Black Queens taking on two racist KKK members, signifying the ongoing battle of racism in the United States! The latter had to be one of the best, most outrageous scenes of GLOW to date. And like Sam said, 'I guess you’re never too young to know about this country’s racial history’.

Sam (Marc Maron) was apprehensive of Cherry & Tammé’s surprise changes at first… But by the end of the match he had gained confidence in the women after hearing the crowd of 30 or so erupt into roars the likes of a full house in the broken down gym would sound like. He even hilariously referred to them as 'The Black Panthers’ in what was ironically riveting commentary. All of it accompanied by the same solemn keyboard tune for the entire show thanks to Sheila the She-Wolf (Gayle Rankin), as it was the only song she knew. Suddenly a show that was hitting every pitfall and taking every wrong turn was lighting up all the faces of the rather 'eclectic’ crowd that had turned up for GLOW’s free show. Suddenly everyone from Sam to all the women in the locker room knew that this crazy idea, one that felt like it would never work, could and WOULD come together. They could actually succeed at what they had set out to do!

By 'Main Event’ time, the crowd was literally eating out of the amateurish palm of GLOW’s outstretched hand. The electricity and excitement running through the building that connected the women with their audience was not only palpable, it can literally be seen worn on the faces and demeanor of everyone in the building. Even all of us at home could feel the tv radiating with the GLOW! Truly!!! It all came down to Liberty Belle, the 100% 'sweet as American Apple Pie’, confident and poised symbol of the 'American Way’, Miss Debbie Eagan (Betty Gilpin) vs 'Zoya The Destroya’, the 'Dirty Russian’, who wants to drain your swimming pools and fill them with Borscht, 'Accidental Homewrecker’, Ruth Wilder (Alison Brie). And yes, if any of you are wondering, I totally said that last line out loud as I wrote it in my best Russian 'Zoya The Destroya’ voice. I can’t help but ponder if Alison Brie was inspired by not only the real GLOW Girl she is portraying, Colonel Ninotchka (Lori Palmer), but also WWE’s own modern version, Lana (CJ Perry)… And that just maybe, Lana is inspired by Palmer herself! It fits, that’s for sure… Even on the heels of Rusev, The Bulgarian Brute.

The match is going well, unexpectedly well. Unbeknownst to the other women, Carmen had taken Ruth & Debbie to visit her brothers… Big Kurt (Carlos Colon Jr aka WWE’s Carlito) & Mighty Tom Jackson (George Murdoch aka WWE’s Brodus Clay, TNA’s Tyrus, and even a part-time, humorous, FOX News anchor). The two headlining women had gone to the brothers for help. They wanted to dazzle the crowd and give them more than just basic moves and the great wrestling tradition of Heel vs Babyface, Good vs Evil… They wanted a match that would elevate both GLOW as a show and themselves as performers. After some hilarious misfires, they were ready… And they ran that ring just like they had intended to, just like they had practiced so hard for. Unfortunately, just as 'the unexpected’ can elevate a wrestling program, it can also add unwanted chaos and ruin. Suddenly, Debbie’s soon to be ex-husband and Ruth’s casual, shameful partner in a secret affair, Mark (Rich Sommer) peaked his head out of the crowd and into Debbie’s field of vision. Debbie freezes and runs off into the back to allow Mark to browbeat her while she misses one of the biggest and best opportunities of her career. Obviously, there’s going to be more for Debbie, but this is going to hurt. Dump the douche already, Debbie!

In an attempt to save the main event, or at least stall until Debbie possibly made her triumphant return (which she never did), Ruth continued on in character yelling out hilarious, typical Russian stereotypes at the audience, who actually ate it up for awhile. As it was bound to happen, the audience started to turn on Ruth. They rightfully wanted a big finish to the show that had unexpectedly turned them from bored passerby’s that were sucked into the building in promise of a free show, to GLOW’s first diverse group of fans. Rhonda (Kate Nash) saw her moment to shine. She had been practicing a 'GLOW Rap’ with Sam’s stolen camera that a jealous, vindictive (yet somehow still relatable and sympathetic), Justine (Britt Baron) had stuffed in her locker in an attempt to set her up and get her fired, all for sleeping with the boss. Rhonda climbed in the ring and started to do GLOW’s now infamous pre-show rap that they were notorious for on their real life tv show. First Ruth followed suit, then the rest of the women stormed the ring and joined in… And GLOW was officially born!

I know I’ve taken a lot of your time and should probably end there, but it’s important for me to give credit where credit is due. Not only did Director Jesse Peretz (thank you so much for HBO’s 'Divorce’, Jesse, and btw 'Our Idiot Brother’ is criminally underrated), but 'new-to-the-game’ writer Rachel Shukert was flawless in her writing, dialogue, and scene transitions… You too, Emma Rathbone! Also, this episode was dedicated to the memory of Chavo Guerrero Sr, the father of Armando Guerrero, the man who trained the wrestlers of the original GLOW as well as the world famous Chavo Guerrero Jr, who trained all the actresses of the series… Except for Kia Stevens, y'all. You think WWE’s Kharma or Independent Scene & TNA Knockout Wrestler 'Awesome Kong’ needed training by the great Chavo Guerrero Jr?! Psssh, that woman is talent personified! Thank you, Liz Flahive & Carly Mensch, on behalf of Spotlight Saga and the French-born, now worldwide, burgeoning community of TVTime.com, we LOVE GLOW!

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