#Buffalo Billiards

[thesportsreviews]

Most Attractive Billiards Players

Most beautiful billiards players in the world

Emily Duddy

Billiards is a sport that requires skill, precision and focus, and there are many talented players from around the world who have made a name for themselves in the industry. However, when it comes to beauty, there are a few players who stand out.

One of the most beautiful billiards players is Allison Fisher. This British player is considered one of the greatest female pool players of all time, having won numerous world championships and tournaments throughout her career. She is known for her elegant playing style and her stunning looks.

Another beautiful billiard player is Ga-Young Kim from South Korea. She is a professional pool player and is known for her impressive skills on the table. She is considered one of the most attractive players in the world, with a unique combination of beauty and talent.

Another notable player is Karen Corr, an Irish professional pool player and commentator. Karen is known for her striking features, svelte figure, and striking eyes. She is a great player and has an impressive list of accomplishments including multiple world championships.

Lastly, Line Kjørsvik from Norway. She is a professional pool player who is known for her beautiful looks and impressive skills on the table. She is considered one of the most attractive players in the world, and has won multiple international tournaments and awards throughout her career.

These players are not only beautiful but also incredibly talented and accomplished in their sport. They have proven that beauty and skill can coexist in the world of billiards.

[julienbakerstreet]

Most audacious claims from Baring-Gould's biography of Sherlock Holmes:

Moriarty was briefly Holmes' childhood math tutor and they hated each other.

Lewis Carroll was Holmes' professor at Oxford and they became good friends.

Holmes met Karl Marx and hung out with his anarchist friends because of their shared interest in assassinations, but wasn’t interested in politics enough to pay attention to Marx's economic theory or attach any significance to it.

Holmes toured America as an actor where he acquired a taste for oysters, met Chicago gangsters, and gained a firsthand knowledge of buffaloes.

Holmes had a lifelong feud with George Bernard Shaw over Shaw's opinion of Sarasate.

Holmes and Irene Adler had a lovechild during the hiatus who grew up to be Rex Stout’s detective Nero Wolfe.

Sherlock Holmes solved the Ripper murders. Watson also solved the Ripper murders, independently of Holmes.

Watson wanted Holmes to marry Violet Hunter so they could have a double wedding.

Holmes particularly liked to assist clients named Violet because it was his mother’s name.

Holmes spent part of the hiatus researching the Yeti at the behest of the Dalai Lama. He discovered the Yeti but found him "a mild, inoffensive creature" and kept its existence a secret so it wouldn't be hunted or imprisoned in a zoo.

During the hiatus, Holmes became the first person to make a partial ascent of Mount Everest. He was able to do this because the Vernet branch of his family are natural-born mountain climbers.

Holmes fought a pterodactyl that his cousin, Professor Challenger, brought to London. Watson saved Holmes from the pterodactyl by killing it.

Watson was an amazing billiards player and he only ever played with the chief maker of billiards in England.

Holmes started eating royal jelly from his bees to prolong his life and lived to 103. He gave Mycroft this royal jelly as well, which allowed him to be the head of the British Secret Service through both World Wars.

Source: Sherlock Holmes of Baker Street: A Life of the World's First Consulting Detective, William Baring-Gould, 1962

[skelebagels]

owo

was thinking of Lucky bc i needa do a certain drawing for him (>w> i see u) and was considering his backstory and if hes possessed or not (was leaning towards he should be but then it seems the glamrocks dont have to be so idk)

regardless felt like i should make him some more friends and remembered i wanted to make a buffalo/bison robo furry and

>3< Billy Bison's Bingo and Billiard's w/ his little brother Buddy Buffallo's Bumpers Cars

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"THINK THEY HAVE GOT THE BANK SWINDLER," Toronto Star. November 10, 1913. Page 2. --- Police Claim That Man Arrested in Montreal Is Jas. Ray. ---- BANKS INTERESTED ---- The Toronto police believe that in the person of W. H. Marshall, arrested in Montreal this morning on the request of Inspector Kennedy, they may have the man who has swindled different Ontario banks to the extent of $15,000, and who obtained money in Guelph, Stratford, Owen Sound, London, Chatham, Lindsay, Fenelon Falls, and other towns by the use of fraudulent cheques which were signed with the name James Ray.

It is claimed that Marshall recently interviewed a well-known billiard man in Toronto, and offered to buy the billiard room, and gave a $1000 cheque as a deposit. The cheque proved to be good, and, after establishing himself with the billiard proprietor, he secured an introduction to the manager of one of the down-town banks. At this bank it is alleged that he presented a cheque for $5,000 on the Trusts and Fidelity Company, of Buffalo, which was later given back to him, and he then presented three cheques for $800, each of which he is said to have cashed.

The bank asked for his arrest when it learned that there was no money in Buffalo. Marshall left his boarding-house suddenly, and was traced to New Hampshire by the Toronto detectives. Some days later it was learned that he had returned to Montreal, and a wire was immediately sent asking that he be apprehended. Detective Cronin leaves for Montreal to-night, and will bring him to Toronto. ///

"WILLIAM H. MARSHALL, whom the police suppose be James Ray, banks in the who to swindled western Ontario towns and who was remanded today for one week in the Police Court on a charge of obtaining $302 from the Royal Bank of Canada, by false pre- tences. He pleads not guilty." - from the Toronto Star. November 12, 1913. Page 13.

[biggerthancalli13]

Part 3: Batu City

Part 2 | The List

Hello! I see you're reading this post, or you're just scrolling.

The third day, December 19, 2022. It wasn't a busy day, we just moved from Bromo to Batu, a city that only takes ±3 hour drives from Bromo, having lunch at an old-fashioned Indonesian food restaurant called Khas Jawa 1985, then checking in at a four-star hotel, Senyum World Hotel.

Khas Jawa 1985

Khas Jawa 1985 is a restaurant that sells Indonesian foods, mostly East Javanese foods. The restaurant is giving off a very classic, Javanese vibes, I think it's pretty good for tourists. The four of us ordered the same dish, gudeg with chicken. And for the drinks, we ordered Es Dawet.

That's what my food looks like. Ooh, now this is my favorite part of this part. My gudeg consist of rice, gudeg itself, krecek, and spicy seasoned chicken. Gudeg is made from young unripe jack fruit, stewed for several hours with palm sugar, and coconut milk. While krecek or sambal goreng krecek is a traditional Javanese cattle skin spicy stew dish from Java. Traditionally it is made from the soft inner skin of cattle (cow or water buffalo), but the most common recipe today uses readily available rambak or kerupuk kulit (cattle skin crackers). The texture is very unique, it's chewy but soft and some recipe make it taste hot, but some just make it taste a little bit hot. There's also a spicy seasoned chicken, which is pretty common in Indonesia. The portion of this menu is definitely enough for 1 person. Although I can't finished it, the krecek is way too spicy for me.

Let's move to es dawet. Es dawet or es cendol is a drink, consist of a mixture of coconut milk with Javanese sugar, rice flour, and cendol. While cendol is a sweet, green-colored rice cake. It's sweet and I really recommend you to try it. This is not Batu's local drink tho, you can find this in Jakarta or maybe another big city.

Overall, my experience there was nice. They got nice place and menus.

Senyum World Hotel

After having lunch there, we wash our car at a car wash then my mom drive us to Senyum World Hotel.

This hotel is a four-star hotel. My mom choose this hotel because they has nice facilities and they're exactly next to Jawa Timur Park 3, our destination for the fourth day.

And I think ehat makes them unique is that they have different types of rooms. They have Indonesia room, Japan room, Marocco room, European room, China room, Mexico room, Africa room, and Greece room. That's a lot, right? Every types of room has different vibes, architecture and decorations. We stay at Greece room.

The facilities they has:

Kids swimming pool with some slides

Adults pool, with a depth of 1.25 meters

Small library

A billiard table

Two ping pong tables

Ninja Adventure, which is like a small outdoor outbound

Wall climbing

Steam

Sauna

Jacuzzi

Small gym

Mini golf with 10+ holes

And they're all free. You just need time and lots of energy to try all of their activities😉

Bakso Arief

My family and I went to Bakso Arief for dinner, which is a small and simple place but quite popular. Fortunately, when we got there, there's no other customer other than food delivery drivers picking up their orders.

We ordered bakso Malang. Similar to other bakso or meatball dishes, it consist of meatballs and noodles. The difference is in the addition of fried wonton, fried tofu and fried meatball. It's a simple dish, but it taste really good and I'm sure the taste is suitable for foreign tourists.

And with that, the third day has come to an end. Thank you so much for reading this, I hope you like this.

All the love, -R-

[retrocgads]

UK 1985

[fyeahcindie]

孔雀眼 JADE EYES at sxsw:  They played 2 sets (1st was on Tuesday the Taiwan Night at Elysium Austin, the 2nd was Wednesday at Buffalo Billiards)

(I added the larger view of the photo shoot, just to get a better idea of the portrait studio.)

❗️我們登上美國南方音樂節的官方instagram了

演出完隔天受邀至攝影棚拍攝這組照片， 現場的場佈極度精緻，攝影師也非常專業💪🏻 大概只花了三分鐘完成拍攝，史上最快🏃 很有趣的經驗，謝謝SXSW！

JADE EYES in SXSW Portrait Studio.📸

#SXSW #projectonyx

❗️ we're on the official Instagram on the South American Music Festival.

The next day was invited to the studio to photograph this group photo.

The scene of the scene is extremely exquisite, and the photographer is very professional 💪🏻

Probably only took three minutes to complete the shooting, the fastest ever🏃

Very interesting experience, thanks SXSW!

[sesquipedalianscribbler]

every time I see a gif of jensen ackles I’m so fucking mad that I literally brushed past him on my way out of a bar in Austin Texas wearing the DUMBEST FUCKING HOE OUTFIT and was too much of a coward to do more than give him a nod fml

[whifferdills]

this like the single most boring bar bathroom i’ve ever drunkenly taken a selfie in

[giantpredatorymollusk]

Mark Twain and a kitten...

[He] likes to be crammed into a corner-pocket of the billiard table — which he fits as snugly as does a finger in a glove and then he watches the game (and obstructs it) by the hour, and spoils many a shot by putting out his paw and changing the direction of a passing ball. Whenever a ball is in his arms, or so close to him that it cannot be played upon without risk of hurting him, the player is privileged to remove it to any one of 3 spots that chances to be vacant.

At the time his cats were named Apollinaris, Beelzebub, Blatherskite, Buffalo Bill, Sour Mash, Tammany, and Zoroaster - “names given them not in an unfriendly spirit,” he wrote, “but merely to practice the children in large and difficult styles of pronunciation.” (x)

[onlycelebsinfo]

Rubi Rose Height, Weight, Age, Boyfriend, Biography, Net Worth

Rubi Rose (born October 2, 1998) is an American Model, Instagram Star, Rapper, Recording Artist, Video Vixen, and Social Media Sensation from Lexington, Kentucky. She is best known for being one of the most followed Instagram personalities.

Rubi entertains her fans on her official account “therubirose” by posting sexy pictures, personal lifestyle, professional photoshoots, some glimpses of vacation trips, brand endorsements, and much more.

Furthermore, the influencer has over 1.1 million followers on the platform. As per the source, Rose launched her career as a blogger after posting her first picture in 2014.

As a musical artist, she is signed to Hitco Entertainment. Rubi is currently managed by her management named the Electric Republic. The recording artist first received recognization after starring in a 2016 music video called “Bad and Boujee” by Migos and Lil Uzi Vert.

In fact, the YouTUbe video of this song has over 933 million views. Earlier, she also starred in a music video titled “Cigarette Song” by Raury. Later, the model worked on her musical career and released two songs named “Trickin” and “Big Mouth”.

Her debut single “Trickin” came out in January 2019 which was distributed by the Electric Republic. The “Big Mouth” track was released in June 2019. The same year, the model also made her SXSW on March 14, 2019, after performing Buffalo Billiards.

In her aspiring career, the rapper also collaborated with artists such as Renni Rucci and Cuban Doll for a single named “A.G.F.”. Zabba worked as a producer for the song. Rubi Rose’s Net worth is calculated to be around $350,000 US Dollars, as of 2020.

The sexy video vixen was born to her parents in 1998 in Lexington, Kentucky, the United States of America (Rubi Rose’s age is 21 years old, as in 2019). Rubi also throws extravagant birthday parties on the 2nd of October every year for her close friends and family. Her father and mother moved to Geneva, Switzerland for several years where the model was raised. Furthermore, Rubi’s mom works as a dentist and her dad has a business. The recording artist’s mother is originally from Switzerland. Furthermore, she belongs to multiracial ethnicity and has Japanese & Eritrean descent. During her junior year of high school, Rose moved to Atlanta, Georgia. https://www.instagram.com/p/BzY3gsrn91d/

She even remained one of the members of a cheerleading team of her school.

Later, the rapper started to attend Georgia State University where Rubi is studying English. Her popularity on Instagram gave her an opportunity to work with the aspiring names in the music industry. The rapper’s first project was a 2014 music video gig for LVRN. Standing at an average height of 1.63 meters (5 ft 4 in), Rubi Rose has a lean yet sexy figure. She maintains her body weight which is around 54 kg (119 pounds) by involving herself in various physical activities such as dancing, swimming, sports, etc. Rose worked with big brands on Instagram such as Fashion Nova, Princess Polly, and Pink Dolphin. In 2018, she got featured in 2018’s “On Top” song opposite Playboi Carti (American rapper, singer, and songwriter). The artist also rapped the verse about “Getting Top”. According to official reports, she dated her boyfriend Playboi Carti at that time. Carti physically assaulted her during their love life and also got arrested in LAX. Rubi also has an unreleased song with Young Thug (American rapper, singer, and songwriter).

Rubi Rose Biography :

Full Real Name  :  Rubi Rose

Stage Name  :  Rubi

Profession  :   Model, Instagram Star, Rapper, Recording Artist, Video Vixen, and Social Media Sensation

Current Residence  :  Atlanta, Georgia, USA

Birthday (DOB)  :  October 2, 1998

Place of Birth  :  Lexington, Kentucky, USA (but raised in Geneva, Switzerland)

Zodiac Sign  :  Libra

Age  :  22  years old

Nationality  :  American

Ethnicity  :  Black

Religion  :  Christian

Sexuality  :  Straight

Gender  :  Female

Height  : 5  Feet 4 Inches Weight  :  54 Kg Hair Color  :   Brown

Eye Color  :   Brown

[sufjanlive]

2004-03-19 SXSW, Buffalo Billiards, Austin, TX [Audio]

Sufjan Stevens 19 March, 2004 South by Southwest Buffalo Billiards, Austin, TX USA

Source: SBD Quality: A

01. The One I Love 02. The Upper Peninsula 03. Vito's Ordination Song 04. All The Trees Of The Field Will Clap Their Hands 05. In The Devil's Territory 06. Rake 07. Sister 08. He Woke Me Up Again 09. Chicago Download: 128 kbps MP3

[lil-purplebird]

Monster Island Buddies: Episode Fan Fiction

Fandom: Godzilla (Monster Island Buddies)

Rating: M

Genre: Parody/Humor

Words: 7,295

Summary: "Werehuman". A self-explanatory legend and an existential crisis. Maybe. Adult language, not for children.

Notes: Rawwrrrr!

So this is just something silly I thought up of out of nowhere and it wouldn't leave for a few days. Figured this would fit better as a “Monster Island Buddies” fic than just a normal Godzilla parody. Yes, I'm insane enough to make an MiB fic, but I know I'm not the only one. To borrow from Destoroyah: “Fuck you.” (Not really, love you guys. But this fic is more-or-less in response to wondering if I'd make more kaiju fics, of which I'mmmmm not telling, but this is still something, I guess. Apparently this takes place before "Destroy All Godzillas".)

Ha ha, well, hope you'll enjoy! I tried.

Can also be read here.

For lunchtime at the bar, Godzilla and some of his buddies were chilling with a game of monster pool. It was called such as the billiard balls were about as big as them all, and they had to be split into teams of three to even carry the cue stick. Stupid in practice, but everything's a great idea in one's drunken state of mind, and they would've declined if Gorosaurus was the one who suggested it and not Gamera.

"Oh, my God, you guys, we're in a tag team!" Gigan exclaimed happily behind Megalon, who in turn was behind Varan. "We're gonna win together as a team! You guys? Am I right? Teamwork rules!"

"How did I get stuck with Gigan, again?" Megalon grumbled.

"Shouldn't I, like, be the one to say that instead?" Varan muttered back.

"Kick my brah's ass, Var!" Biollante cheered from the sidelines.

It was a rare sight to see the couple at the bar, but SpaceGodzilla just had to say something about celebrating their group's founding anniversary with drinks and a bottomless buffalo wings basket or something. Oh, and a friendly battle or competition where the winner (or in this case, the winning team) was going to get free tickets to a concert, and Varan got excited.

Godzilla, Jet Jaguar, and Gamera were in another team chalking up their cue tip waiting for Gorosaurus' team (consisting of him, Baragon in front, and Gabara in the back, who butted in because he had overheard about the tickets) to do the break shot. The robot hemmed to himself, "Why're we believing SpaceGodzilla has concert tickets, again?"

"I don't, but I need to get out more," Godzilla said. "I don't know how you guys can live with me if I can barely stand living with myself most days."

"Yeah, see if I'll take you back under my wing again," Gamera wryly recalled.

Mumbling under his breath, Baragon was taking care to calculate his aim, but Gabara was growing impatient. "Jussth hit the ball!" he shouted, trying to take control of the cue stick.

"I want to get at least two balls in!" the burgundy monster stated, fighting back.

"You guys, we have to work together!" Gorosaurus interjected as group leader.

"Givth me the shtick! Hyouuungh!" Gabara brayed.

"No! It needs to be precise!"

Enough force was put into the tug-of-war that the cue ball was hit, but it scarcely scraped by the nine-ball rack and rolled into the left side pocket. Some of the onlookers hooted at the sight. "Look what happened!" the dinosaur moaned.

"Alright, guess it's up to us to break it!" Godzilla said excitedly, already in place up front while SpaceGodzilla fished out the ball.

"Godzilla, let me be the frontman," Gamera suggested. "Or, I don't know, let me angle the cue stick for you."

"You're in the back, though," he pointed out. "That's what you are supposed to do."

"Maybe I should shoot," Jet said. "I already have the trajectory calculated."

He barely finished his sentence when Godzilla impulsively hit the ball the moment it was set down in front of him, and the rack cleanly broke. The eight-ball was one of the outside balls and halted close to a pocket, but then a ricocheted striped ball hit it in. "Ooh, tough luck!" SpaceGodzilla tsked, smirking at his half-brother's misfortune.

"Ooh, fizzlesticks!" the robot hissed.

"Wait, we're out of the game already?" the bipedal turtle gasped. "Godzilla, did you even aim?!"

The king of the monsters belched. "Oh, sorry, I guess I stumbled there."

"Why're you such a klutz?!"

Gigan hopped in place. "Oh, my God, did we win, you guys? We won, right? Hooray for teamwork!"

"Dudes, it worked!" Varan said in awe, letting out a breathy laugh. "Rubbing my lucky rabbit's foot worked!"

Megalon did a brief double-take. "So is that what happened to the Easter bunny?"

As Varan and Biollante had a victory make-out, Gamera gruffly sighed and threw down his end of the cue stick. Godzilla shrugged it off. "Well, that was fun, I guess. Too bad Rody missed out."

"Are you blaming this loss on me?" Gamera growled, feeling a buzzing headache coming on.

"It's not because of you, man. Now if it was Rodan in your place, one flap of his wings would've broken formation."

"Rodan would've suggested beer pong in your place," Jet said. "No offense, Gamera, monster pool just isn't working out for us."

"It was a brilliant idea! You just don't have the artistic vision to see it!" The monster turtle belched and groaned. "Ugh, I'm getting too worked up. I need to get home and lie down for a bit, maybe cry myself to sleep."

Godzilla almost rolled his eyes. "A one-time fluke doesn't mean it's a horrible idea, Gamera. Maybe it just depends on the team."

Gamera scoffed. "Yeah, guess you're right. So that means you're out of the team, Godzilla."

He threw his hands up. "What?! Why me?!"

"Guys, calm down," Jet tried to pacify, stepping in between them. "There's no need to fight over monster billiards."

"Oh, but there's plenty of things to fight over," Gamera sneered, still not breaking eye-contact.

"Oh, oh, you're going to bring up our college days now?" Godzilla bellowed. "Look, man, if this is about the time-jumping thing, there wasn't room in the machine for all of us!"

"I still got a sweet acting career out of it. But actually, there was one thing about those days I still haven't forgiven you for, and that was the werehuman prank!"

Jet Jaguar looked between them with disbelief. "What's this about a 'werehuman'?"

Godzilla scratched his snout, aimlessly staring at the ceiling. "Uh... can you refresh my memory? I think the coke binge might've warped it into something else. But I have this strange feeling like I've met a wolf man before."

"No, not that Wolf Man," Gamera huffed.

"What, do you have something again Lon Chaney?"

"No, you're just an idiot."

"Guys, what's a 'werehuman'?" Jet tried to ask, but he was ignored as the turtle scoffed.

"You want to know why you never saw my mom anymore after that party? She got paranoid and had to flee the planet so she wouldn't look at another human ever again!"

"Oh, I thought your mom died. I just didn't want to ask because she just seemed so old, and you didn't talk about her much."

"Being in your two-hundreds isn't old, you prick!"

"That just means she wasn't hot."

"Hey, you guys, can you keep it down?" Gorosaurus came in. "You're triggering an early hangover."

While the two continued to argue and insult each other, Jet Jaguar went over to the dinosaur. "Gorosaurus, what's a 'werehuman'?"

He turned to him in surprise. "You've never heard of it? It's a famous monster legend around these parts."

"Really? I've been here for over forty years, and I've never heard of it."

"You've heard of the werewolf, right?"

Jet quickly went through his archives. "It's a half-wolf, half-man, right?"

"No, it's—"

Baragon interrupted, shaking his head, "No, no, no, the Wolf Man is a completely fictional character by Hollywood. But the werewolf is believed to originate from the Mesopotamian story 'The Epic of Gilgamesh', and was adopted and tweaked a little in European folklore."

"Hey, I was getting to that," Gorosaurus complained.

"So what's a werewolf?" Jet wondered.

"A werewolf is a man who shape-shifts into a wolf during the full moon," the actor explained. "It's like a curse, which can be broken with a silver bullet, or by eating wolfsbane. You also turn into a werewolf if you're bitten by another werewolf, but you have to kill that werewolf to lift the curse. Or is that a vampire?"

"Like a zombie!" Gorosaurus added.

"Ohh, so a werehuman is a man turning into a human?" Jet Jaguar paused, then realized what he said when he glanced over at other patrons in the background. "Wait, dammit!"

Baragon laughed quietly. "No, a werehuman is a monster that transforms into a human at sunrise."

"Why sunrise?"

"The cursed monster has to work a nine-to-five office job."

Jet stared, cast his eyes over at Godzilla and Gamera who were still fighting and it was getting more heated, glanced at the bartender, and then looked back at the reptiles before him. "That's it?" When they nodded, he shrugged. "Well, uh... how do you break the werehuman curse?"

"You can't," they said in unison.

"Not even a silver bullet to the heart?"

"I never said you have to shoot a werewolf in the heart to break the curse," Baragon corrected. "But no, not even with silver bullets. All you can do is infect other monsters until you die from overworking yourself."

"My mommy told me once you had to become a vegan," Gorosaurus spoke up. "Monsters don't eat their greens and never will, so they just overwork themselves to death instead."

"Uh... Mothra eats her greens," Jet pointed out. "Cotton sweaters count, right?"

The dinosaur slowly gasped. "Maybe she was the werehuman of legend!"

"But that's all it is—a legend," the robot stressed.

"Do you see other herbivores on a regular basis?" Baragon asserted.

Jet paused. "Okay, you got me there. So... how do you become a werehuman?"

"A human bites you."

His head jerked back in shock. "That's it? Just a human?"

He leaned in menacingly, shadows splitting across his face. "Did you know that human mouths are pretty disgusting?"

"But... you said werehumans infect other monsters, too."

"Yeah, they do. But patient zero always gets bitten by a human first."

Some silence passed between them before Baragon started laughing. Gorosaurus joined in a moment later, and Jet managed to let out a nervous chuckle before backing away. Then in mid-laughter, the subterranean reptile turned to his companion. "Hold on, you said 'mommy', didn't you?"

Returning to Godzilla, the robot noticed Gamera had left. "Hey, Godzilla, what's the matter?"

The kaiju looked like the alcohol was finally getting to him, he had a more fatigued expression on his face and he was swaying a bit. "Man, Gamera's such a fucking sore loser. He blames everything else but himself."

"Uh..."

He hiccuped. "Anyway, when he's better, I'll talk to him. I didn't know that about his mom, so it's no wonder he's got abandonment issues."

"...Yeah..."

"So what was it you wanted to know about our werehuman prank, Jet?"

Jet shook his head. "Oh, never mind. I had too much to drink. Think I'm going to go home, maybe go see Hedorah."

"Okay, bud, see you later," Godzilla said, but the robot had turned his back and left the bar. He frowned, then realized he was being footed the bill. "Oh, goddamn it, Jet!"

Soon after with an emptier wallet, he was on his way back home and walked solemnly past some human crowds, but his thoughts remained back at their fight. He really couldn't remember much about that party, their whole college days was full of weed, alcohol, and casual sex that everything blurred together. But he did meet Gamera's mother once when she had visited for some celebration, he recalled simultaneously chuckling at and being grossed out over her many sags, realizing that was what his roommate was going to look like in a hundred-plus years. He had taken a hit with a bong or something before everyone came over, and he had a feeling some human was somewhere in the crowd.

Not that he hated humans, but it was someone he didn't particularly like, so he had wanted to "frame" the human as well as lighten the mood. So he slipped through into the kitchen area where Gamera's mother was fetching some more snacks (or was making sweets), jumped on her back, said articulately, "Nothing personnel, MILF," and then bit her neck. When Gamera came running in screaming "What the hell are you doing?!", he had answered, "I can't fight my werehuman instincts any longer!" then howled at nothing in particular and ran out of the dorm to terrorize the campus.

Godzilla paused to stare at some graffiti as he reminisced. "...Huh. Just how fucking stoned was I to think she was a MILF?"

Suddenly, he felt teeth sink into his tail, although not by much so it didn't hurt, but it stung. He looked behind him to see a human gnawing on his tail as if it was a corn on the cob, looking like his mind had just snapped. He was not even a hobo like one would think, he had on a suit and tie and his briefcase contents were spilled everywhere.

"Well I'll be damned. I didn't know I could feel that."

And then it hit him—the briefcase did, but so did the situation.

*~*~*

In their living room, Rodan and Mothra were having their afternoon romp. The moth kaiju was somewhat chewing on the pillow while her husband pounded her from behind, trying hard not to set the sofa on fire (again) since burnt leather is a huge turn-off. Also it's embarrassing to confess to the fire department about how it happened, and he didn't want to be featured on "Sex Sent Me to the ER".

"Here comes Rodaaaan, giant peeenilesaurrrr! Here comes Rodaaaan, deep in Mooothra's corrrre..."

And of course Rodan's growling out his theme song, somewhat, being in the heat of the moment.

"Maharaaa—ah! Mahara Mosuraaa—nn!"

Oh, shit, both of them got it in their heads to climax along with their theme songs. And thankfully, the doorbell started ringing wildly before the awkwardness could seep in further.

"Goddamn it, why now?!" Rodan grunted, flailing his wings about.

Sighing to herself, Mothra got up and apologetically nuzzled her husband. "I'll get it. It'll be less embarrassing."

Rodan stared before glancing down as she flew over to open the door. The sight of Godzilla standing there in a nervous sweat took her by surprise. "Oh, my, you don't look so good."

"Mothra, Rody, you gotta help me!" he said, slightly panting. "You guys are the only ones I can turn to!"

The pterosaur came up from behind his wife with his trademark pissed off glare. "Can't this wait? The sex was just getting good."

"Rody, please, after I got in a fight with Gamera at the bar, a human bit me on the tail, I almost lost my voice screaming and running around, and now I'm going to turn into a werehuman and have to go work in a cubicle for the rest of my life!"

The couple slowly looked at each other in befuddlement before facing their friend again. "What the fuck, Godzilla? Did you get back on drugs?" Rodan asked, exasperated his sexy times with Mothra was interrupted by a drug-fueled fit.

"I couldn't make this up even on crack! Please, you gotta help me!"

"What about MechaGodzilla?" Mothra suggested, though she sounded a little unsure.

"That's why I'm so worn out, I just came from there! I've never seen it look so empty before! Does this need a quick flashback, too?"

"Why're you bragging about coming when you interrupted me coming?" Rodan snapped out, getting antsy.

"Give it a minute, Rodan," Mothra said in aside.

"That's what you said the last time!"

Ignoring him, she then made another indication to Godzilla, "How about Jet?"

"I can't find him anywhere, either, I thought he went home!" Godzilla whined, head in his hands. "I don't know, I'm just freaking out and I don't know what to do!"

Her heart going out to her distressed friend, she patted him on the arm in comfort. "Well, come inside and we'll figure things out. But wipe off your feet and that human, first."

They turned to the man still clinging to the lizard's tail, though he was looking stiff and there was blood around his mouth and shirt.

"He's dead!" Godzilla gasped. "Oh, my God, the rabies must've gotten to him!"

"More like cancer from how cancerous this whole situation is," Rodan huffed.

"Rabies?" Mothra echoed. "Are you sure it's rabies?"

"Well why else do humans bite unprovoked?" Godzilla said with a shrug.

"Then why the hell are you going on about 'werehuman' shit?!" Rodan shouted, starting to flip out as well.

After peeking around the corner with a head, their son, King Ghidorah, slinked into the living room. "Oh, you finished having intercourse with each other?" the three heads gave a relived sigh in unison.

"No, your mother just got distracted," the pterosaur insisted, shooting a leer at Godzilla who gave him an odd look as well.

"Well, uh... I need to make lunch now or my blood sugar level's going to drop. The General offered to get lunch, but he's gonna be out a bit longer. So... can you make it quick?"

"Can't you guys do it in the privacy of your own bedroom?" the lizard wondered.

"The living room's the farthest from his room, and General has cameras installed in the basement," was Rodan's claim. "Ghidorah psychic links and public indecency laws have been sucking all of the fun out of it. Mothra's been liking the attention, though."

Mothra giggled a little. "Oh, it's not like that."

Face faulting in horror, Godzilla gestured at the furniture. "...But... everyone sits on that couch."

"But the bedroom's a good idea, Godzilla," she suddenly said a little hurriedly. "Most of my things are up there anyway, so let's get you looked at."

"Oh, Mother, Father, please don't," their son cried. "You're already copulating thrice a day, don't add more to it."

Rodan put his wing around his necks. "Son, worry not about what your mother and I do. Where do you get these crazy ideas from, anyway? I knew getting you that computer was a bad idea!"

"I was the one who built it, Father," King Ghidorah informed.

"I don't care if it was Charles Babbage’s brain, show me your search history! My son's not going to grow up to be NTR'd!"

"Rodan, are you coming or not?" Mothra asked firmly.

Rodan swung around eagerly. "I thought you'd never ask, sweetheart!"

"Not that."

He roared in frustration. "Your timing fucking sucks, Godzilla!"

Entering the bedroom, Godzilla took in the numerous candles, cushions, trinkets, some statues, and other new age stuff he never understood. His eyes fell upon an odd drawing of a moth silhouette surrounded by seven statements (as written in kanji). A green checkmark was inked next to "Three Dragons".

"Hey, what you got here?" he inquired, following a line downward.

Mothra quickly shooed him away toward the circle of cushions and kicked the poster behind a bureau. "Okay, Godzilla, slowly lower the body."

He had to shake the corpse off of his tail, and the three of them stared down at the man's blissful blood-smeared face. "So why did this human bite you just to die?" Rodan questioned suspiciously.

"I don't know, I was just trudging home from the bar, and suddenly I felt something nibbling on me," he relayed his story. "The guy looked like he just dropped everything for a bite, and he wouldn't let go like he superglued his teeth on me or something."

"How long ago was this?" Mothra asked. "He hasn't been dead for even an hour."

"Thirty minutes, I think?"

"If this was a hobo, you wouldn't have come interrupt us because you'd be dead from rabies," Rodan said gruffly.

Godzilla snorted. "Mothra, does the guy have rabies, or no?"

Studying what little life force there was from the body, she shook her head. "No, this guy was just... normal."

"Biting a monster's tail is not normal!" he declared, starting to freak out again. "This normal guy had himself a normal job someplace and he did an abnormal thing!"

"So is that why you think you're turning into a werehuman?"

"Yeah, funny that Gamera brought that up just minutes before my tail became this guy's lunch!"

"A prophet tells prophetic things. Shocker," Rodan sarcastically said.

Humming to herself, Mothra's antennae drooped. "Well, uh... I don't know what else to say, Godzilla. This is new to me."

"Why couldn't it have been Kong or Gorosaurus who got their tails gnawed on instead?" the king of the monsters sniveled. "I don't have the experience to do paperwork, and I'm too much of a klutz for coffee runs!"

"Are you done yet?" Rodan grunted. "My balls have been aching for release since you got here."

"Rody, you're my best friend, you know that?" Godzilla whimpered. "Can you take one for the team and let me do a test bite on you?"

"Fuck off, Godzilla!"

"Please? Just a nibble?"

Mothra stepped in between them. "Godzilla, I suggest you go home. Spend the rest of this time with Minilla and the others."

He paused, thinking back to his household who were none-the-wiser of his predicament. "Yeah... I suppose you're right. How much time do I have left as me?"

"Not short enough," the pteranodon growled. "We're already ten pages into this crap."

Godzilla solemnly stared down at his feet, unsure what to think of his situation. This was a fate worse than death, he was starting to realize why a lot of humans were so miserable all the time, and he hadn't even begun transforming. His stomach churned, and he groaned in anguish.

Mothra patted his shoulder with a wing. "Hey, cheer up. You're only a human during the day. You can come visit us when the sun goes down."

"But eleven-fifty-five is off-limits!" Rodan warned. "It's the only time where I get to hump Mothra well into the next day to feel better about my sexual prowess!"

"You only last for five minutes?" Godzilla asked.

"Goddamn it, Godzilla, let me have this!"

"Hold that thought," he said, and the nausea caught up to him.

*~*~*

Having already been out visiting Anguirus for the day and happened to be passing by, Minilla helped his depressed and sick father back home, feeling the weight of the news bearing down on him. Godzilla had been crying and whimpering to himself about his predicament, and he didn't know what to do to console him. That was the thing about being the Chosen One, you're only prepared for one destiny, the others just sneak up on you.

"Hey, Dad, if it means anything to you, you can become like an ambassador for Monster Island," he finally made a suggestion, trying to remain optimistic. "If it'll keep less missiles from being launched our way, this sacrifice will not be in vain."

Godzilla was still sobbing to himself. "I'm going to look like an uglier Kong, but bald!"

"Is that what you're most bothered about?" his son sighed.

"And even if I do get a human girlfriend, the sex is just not going to be the same. Once you go kaiju, you can't just downsize!"

"Dad, stay focused, please."

He sniffed some mucus back up his nose. "Maybe I'll still be able to grow a beard and join a motorcycle gang, or something to stave off my loneliness."

"This is getting serious. Dad's reaching the acceptance phase fast." Minilla frowned to himself. "Actually, why wouldn't that be a good thing?"

Upon reaching their home, they could see Titanosaurus was standing conspicuously on their lawn and staring into the window. "Oh, damn it," the Chosen One hissed. "Where're the others?"

"Oh, Titanosaurus, did you need something?" Godzilla called, temporarily putting aside his grief.

The dinosaur giggled as he turned away from the window. "Hohohoho! You talkin' to me, Fuzzy Lumpkins? Hohohoho!"

"Well, yeah. Just want to know why you're here at my house. You're crushing my azaleas."

"Stick your gangrened mojo up your powder puff, princess! You're in for a rowdy rough ride! Hohohoho! Hohohoho!" He began river dancing on the lawn, and they had to avoid his swinging tail.

"Just get inside, Dad. We need to let the other Godzillas know about this."

Walking into the living room, they noticed the group had a movie on, popcorn, chips and other junk food littered the area, and the TV's screen looked like it was set on its highest bright setting. "Hey, guys, can you pause the movie?" Minilla asked just to get his face sprayed with crumbs by a shushing Orga.

"See, this is why you can't enjoy a good movie anymore!" he grumbled. "Jackasses are always interrupting your viewing everywhere you go!"

"Orga, you've been coming over uninvited to watch a movie for weeks now!" Godzilla groaned.

"My cable provider hasn't gotten back to me yet, and I need it to make my Orga Reviews so I can pay the bills! Fucking asshole."

"Crash over at Rodan's place, then!"

He chortled. "Dude, have you seen their couch? And I'm not the one who broke it this time!"

All of the alternate Godzilla versions shushed them. "Ugh, why do we always get interrupted by jackasses at the best parts?" the stout lighter-gray Godzilla growled.

Godzilla Earth lumbered into the living room to announce in his booming gravelly voice, "WELL, WE RAN OUT OF THEM LEMONY-SCENTED GOODNESS WIPES AGAIN. DID I MISS ANY BOOBIES ON THE CABLE?"

Minilla snatched the remote to pause the film, ignoring the protests from the others. "Guys, my dad has something important to say."

"Unless he won a million-billion dollars, forget it," Alternate Future Godzilla scoffed.

Godzilla stepped forward, now somber once again. "Everyone, this might be the last time to be me as I am now."

They silently gave him weird looks.

"I know this is hard to believe, but... I'm a werehuman."

"Nothing shocks us anymore," the tiny Godzilla said. Orga almost choked on a chip laughing.

"I was bitten by a human this afternoon, and that means I'm going to be a human by the morning. I'll still come around when it's nighttime, but I'm not going to be head of the household much anymore if I can't be king of the monsters." He turned to his son. "So Minilla, my boy... I'm giving you the keys to the castle. It's been a long time coming, but you deserve it, my son."

Although he was certain the "werehuman" wasn't what it seemed to be, he couldn't help hanging his head in reverence. "Dad, I'm honored..."

"OHHH BOY, I CAN FINALLY HAVE MYSELF A 'M.A.S.H.' MARATHON BUDDY TO WATCH WITH!" Earth exclaimed happily, his jagged smile crinkling his eyes. "YOU BEST NOT FORGET, YOU HEAR?"

"I call your room," Future Godzilla said, raising his hand.

"Damn it, I wanted his room!" Big Daddy G roared.

"Should've called faster."

"Guys, I'm not relinquishing the house just yet!" Godzilla insisted. "I'm still going to be living here until I can find myself a human apartment!"

"Uh... yeah, I knew that. But I'm still going to call it."

Turning to Little Godzilla and Baby Godzilla who were sleepy on their feet, the king of the monsters spread his arms out for a hug. "Come here, kids. I just need to tell you I'm proud of you, and wish you well as you grow up."

The babies stared at him, then babbled something about him smelling like beer and incense.

"So Godzilla Prime, what're you going to do for the rest of your kaiju day?" another Godzilla asked, orange eyes narrowing like he wasn't taking the news seriously.

Thinking back to whatever bucket list he may have had in mind, he hemmed and folded his arms a bit. "Really good question. Let me think about it after lunch. Also get the fuck out of my house, Orga," he added to the alien.

"Alright, alright, sheesh," he huffed, stepping outside only to get tackled by Titanosaurus.

Everyone gathered around the table as he munched on an egg salad sandwich and sucked down some cola. Minilla was cooking up another egg for his father and himself, inwardly consulting with the Hand for guidance while also thanking the Hand for handling the skillet in his place. As Godzilla Prime counted his alternate selves surrounding him in his head, a thought struck him like a lightning bolt out of the blue.

"Hey, Minilla, do you remember what I did with the bible audiobook?" he wondered as he finished his drink.

He turned away from the stove. "What's this sudden interest in the human concept of religion, Dad?"

"If I'm going to be a werehuman, I figured I might as well pretend I know what I'm talking about when debating around the water cooler. Also Larry King just soothes the eardrums just right. I think that's part of what comes with the Jewish package, kinda like how King Ghidorah used to speak."

Minilla wanted to roll his eyes to the ceiling as his father scarfed down the rest of his food. "Yeah, you're going to fit right in with the humans."

"DID SOMEONE SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHEWS?" Godzilla Earth queried, his hearing failing him again.

"No, it's Jews," Big Daddy G corrected.

"WOAHHH, YOU BETTER BE CAREFUL ABOUT THEM CHEWS. ONE TIME, I WOKE UP WITH A MOUTH SORE BECAUSE I SLEPT WITH MY MAW OPEN, AND THOSE DAMN PESTS CRAWLED INSIDE TO NEST BETWEEN MY GUMS."

"Actually, I'm going to check to see if it's on Audible." Godzilla fished out an iPod for a look.

"If you're so sure about it, Dad, I can check storage for you," his son offered.

"That's okay, better safe than sorry. Ah, here it is—ohhhh man, it's the big James E. Jones! Now that's a real king! Is it free?" He did a quick scan and then tossed down the iPod. "Forty bucks?! Goddamn it, I might as well just read the actual book, and I don't have the time nor ability to read and do stuff all at once!"

With a sigh, Minilla went to go scour the boxes for any trace of the audiobook. It wasn't that he didn't care what his father would do, but he didn't feel it was going to do or change anything. Besides, he felt like he saw something like this on TV and it felt like a cheap, quick gimmick to avoid actual conflict.

When he found the box with the CDs still unopened inside, he wondered what was even the point, and secretly hoped the CD player was unplayable so his father could actually get off his tail and do something—

"Oh, you found it, son?" Godzilla said from behind, looking over his shoulder. "Wow, I completely forgot about this—oh, hey, that's the same one I was looking at on Audible! Oh sweet, you saved me forty bucks, Minilla!"

He hesitantly handed them over. "Yeah... you're welcome, Dad."

Godzilla put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, boy. I'm still going to be around, even if I'm an ugly hairless ape."

He harumphed to himself, smirking slightly. "You sure change your mind pretty quick."

"Well, you got to keep an open mind, you know. Okay, how do you work this thing, again?"

Getting it strapped (somehow) on his waist and the headphones plugged into the jack, he snapped on the first disc. "I'm heading out."

"Where to, Dad?"

"I've got things to do, places to go, people to see. All that jazz. Byeeeee!" He left the house, leaving Minilla to stare forlornly after him at the window.

"Finally, we can start where we left off!" Future Godzilla sighed, plopped back down on the couch. "Minilla, can you make some more popcorn for us?"

*~*~*

Godzilla lost himself to the sultry, booming voice of James Earl Jones' narration (he'll have to play catch up on the Old Testament some other time), letting the words flow through him as he traveled the land. He never took off his headset when he tried new foods, explored a new cave or lakeside, attempted bungee jumping, even when stopping to have a chat with other kaijus, nodding along in all the right places and saying the right things while his thoughts remained on the narrator. Something-something about parables and healing of the sick, but it was like Mufasa was there in the clouds telling him all of this. It was quite heavenly and took his mind off of the throb in his tail from where the human had bit him. It was more annoying having to change the discs because it took him out of cloud nine, and apparently Minilla had the proper foresight to have snuck him some extra batteries, but that was all the motivation he needed to keep going well into the night.

Luckily, in the middle of Paul's epistles (he liked how James would say "Paul"), he made it back home in time for everyone to be in bed for him to not be bothered, and he snuck by Godzilla Earth snoozing in front of the TV to sit in front of a window that faced east. He wanted to be able to have the morning sun rest on him as he lounged in a chair, and make himself comfortable for the transformation. It shouldn't hurt, for all he knew, should be over in a "twinkling of the eye" as the good book said through the voice of Darth Vader. Something about eye twinkles was romantic and peaceful enough to yield to his fate.

Being a human shouldn't be all that bad, he reiterated tiredly to himself for what had to be the umpteenth time that day. You're only like an office slave for only eight hours. That's not too bad. You have sixteen other hours of the day to just be yourself. Just have to grin and bear it, and I'm pretty good at grinning, if I must say so myself. Yeah, shouldn't be all that different from what I do now. Probably have to cut back on my alcohol intake. Humans can't handle the same alcohol we can. Should start trying out this wine, I guess. All this talk about wine's been making me thirsty.

Godzilla tried to wriggle out of his chair to go get himself a glass of whatever, but his muscles were protesting too much, and he went limp. Oh well, that can wait. Man, I hope the others don't freak out when they see me, if they can still recognize me.

The deep voice rumbled in his ears, "'Let him know, that he which converteth the sinner from the error of his way shall save a soul from death, and shall hide a multitude of sins.'"

"Yeah, you tell 'em, Mr. Jones," Godzilla mumbled through a yawn. "You tell 'em..." And he dozed off right as this Peter part of the audiotape began at the three o'clock hour.

*~*~*

The babies were the first to get up and climb out of their cribs. They typically always were the first to greet the new day, it was the only time where they were free to do what they pleased before the grown-ups came to stop them. They put their all into their adventures.

As they waddled out into the living room where the TV was still blasting an informercial in front of a sleeping Earth, they went to enter the kitchen when they noticed a familiar shadow cast across the floor. "Daddy?" Baby Godzilla mumbled, and they looked at the silhouette facing the window. The sun was coming up, and the kaiju was immobile in the chair, arms hung down at his sides. The spindly rays looked like a halo about him, feathering his outlines.

They stared for a bit longer, unsure when their father had come back and what he was doing staring directly into the light, but they decided to let him be. Gesturing to each other, they left the room to go back upstairs. They can play some games up in their room, or find a way to climb out of their window.

It wasn't for another hour before Minilla got out of his room. As his father wasn't in his bedroom, he was hesitant to go downstairs to see what had become of him. A part of him was still unsure if the werehuman was even real to begin with, but Godzilla had looked too serious to have been pulling his leg. He figured before he'd search for him that he'd wait for his visitor to arrive.

Quietly so as to not disturb Godzilla Earth, he stepped out onto the porch in time to see Gamera and Anguirus making their way up the cobbled path. "Thank Blundergosh you're here," he said in a whisper.

"For the record, I'm just here to witness it with my own two eyes," the turtle said a little gruffly. "This is a touchy subject for me, but I think Godzilla would appreciate my being here."

"He's going to need all the support he can get," Anguirus said, a little melancholic. "Like the Hand, we must reach out to him in his time of need."

"So is he here?"

Minilla cricked his neck a little. "I think so, but I just got out myself. Everyone's still in their rooms, so..."

"Let's search around the premises first," the dinosaur suggested. "He may be too ashamed to show his face but still wants to be in the comfort of his home."

"You should go in front of me so I don't punch his face when I see him," Gamera said, flexing his jaw. "I'm sorry, this is just pissing me off."

Putting his paw on his arm, Anguirus gave a nod and started off for the yard. Carefully on tiptoe, they followed and looked around where they think a radioactive lizard—or a human—would hide in. They ruled out underneath the house for the time being, that was to be the last hiding place to check if they can't find him anywhere else. Glancing in the kitchen windows, Minilla was surprised to find it empty, since usually the babies were in there in the mornings.

"First clue: He's here, or has been here," he announced to his companions.

"Alright, keep searching," Anguirus said, still going on ahead. "Can't peek inside the windows for the life of me..."

Shielding their eyes from the sunlight, they turned to the window and through the glare saw a chair was in front of it, and it was occupied. Cupping their hands to their eyes, Minilla and Gamera peeked in, and the actor thought he could hear a molar crack from gritting his teeth to silence a snarl.

Snoring in the chair, head lolled back and drool on his chin, Godzilla was in a deep sleep, scales and all. The headphones had slipped and looked bent from the angle, but only the Chosen One noted that detail he had that audiobook on all night. Maybe it was a source of comfort for him, but he looked way too relaxed for someone who was absolutely certain he was a werehuman.

"Well? What do you see?" Anguirus asked, looking back-and-forth between them.

"False alarm," Minilla decided to say, sounding a little relieved.

"No it fucking isn't!" Gamera shouted, startling the two of them. "The jackass took it too far!"

"Is he in there, or...?"

"That piece of shit believed in his own lies, and he has the gall to sleep like a slob! God, now I wish he was a human so I could crush him!"

Anguirus tilted his head. "This is a bad thing, why?"

Pulling back, Minilla just shrugged. "In all fairness, he's quite human enough, so he wouldn't have been much different. I'd just hate to see him as an actual human."

"He'd be one ugly son of a bitch, that's for sure," Gamera huffed. "Ugh, screw this, I'm going home to sleep. I spent all night meditating for his sake. What a waste of energy..."

"What if your prayers were answered?" the seer suggested, hoping to cull his anger.

"I was meditating for his human self. What a waste." And he sulked off, leaving the two shrugging and letting out rough sighs.

Godzilla's breath caught mid-snore, and he smacked his lips, but didn't budge from his chair. "...May the Force be wi'you, Jonesss..."

*~*~*

"Orga's in the house!" the alien announced, grinning smugly while swirling around a half-empty glass of iced tea. "Well, that was a letdown of a disaster. Given the weird format of this 'fan fiction', I guess the mailbag's been replaced with this 'author's notes' instead. Man, what's up with that? If it's over, just end it, no need to make people read more. Besides, it sounds stupid for fan fiction writers to get fan-mail.

"Who does that, anyway? And with such messages like 'When is the next chapter of Forsaken coming out?' Like what's up with that?" Orga narrowed his eyes in confusion. "What is that, anyway? Sounds like it'd make for a cool 'God of War' or 'Dead Space' fic. Whatever. Hey, kid! You, the one writing this crap!"

The author's small hands stopped moving on the keyboard as Orga peered at her through the screen. "Who're you calling 'kid'?" she warned in an unfortunate high voice.

"Yeah, why're you doing this? Don't you have better things to do with your time like schoolwork or something?" Then he chuckled nervously. "Oh, wait, that joke's gonna age like Madonna if I go any further, and that's already embarrassing!"

The author's hands went palms-up in befuddlement. "Okay...?"

"Stay safe out there, anyway."

"Yeah... thanks—is that why you've hijacked my end notes?"

Orga shrugged. "Well yeah, I have nothing better to do, either! How long were you working on this, anyhow? Did the winning team even go to the concert, or what?"

"...Yeeeeaaa—I guess..."

"You're just making shit up, aren't you? You think you're so 'ha ha' funny, don't you?"

A back-and-forth uncomfortable stare ensued for the next moment while Orga finished off the rest of his drink.

"This is awkward!" he then broke the ice while crunching on an ice cube.

"You're telling me," the author grumbled, insulted.

"Hey, how're you typing this ou

[brxkcnengineer]

sarepost, don’t reblog!

5 things you’ll find in my bag

Cell Phone

Emergency Meds ( in case I forgot to take them )

Wallet / S.H.I.E.L.D. Badge

Laptop

Fidget Cube

5 things you’ll find in my bedroom

Picture of Jemma and I

Papers. Papers everywhere.

Notebook full of blueprints, sketches, and maths problems

A pile of folded shirts I can’t be bothered to put away

Sci-Fi book on the bedside table

5 things that make me happy

Jemma

Being with friends ( when not on a mission )

Watching the sunrise

Playing ( and beating ) the team in billiards

Prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella ( with a hint of homemade pesto aioli )

5 things i’m currently into

Sci-Fi novels

Collecting Doctor Who trading cards

Cheesy horror movies that Daisy recommends

Building scale models of SHIELD buildings in Minecraft

Getting to sleep in as much as possible

5 things on my to-do list

Take medication.

Phone mum.

Plan proper honeymoon with Jemma.

Find the cottage in Perthshire

Retire from field work

5 people i want to see do this

@shieldscientist​

@biochemiist​

@greyheroes​

@jemmaqueenofspace​

@soviet-spider​

Tagged by: @shieldisntalife​

[nuclearblastuk]

SAVAGE HANDS | Discuss their forthcoming debut album 'The Truth In Your Eyes' in first album trailer

Maryland’s fast-rising heavy alt-rockers SAVAGE HANDS are currently gearing up to head off on the band’s eagerly-anticipated North American tour with WHILE SHE SLEEPS. In the meantime, the band have released the first album trailer for their upcoming debut album 'The Truth In Your Eyes', released January 31st via SharpTone Records. Watch the album trailer here: https://youtu.be/IiDqF9t7Vko

On the new trailer, vocalists Mike Garrow comments: “take an inside look at how this album came about and what it means to us. The band has put everything we have into this new moment for SAVAGE HANDS. 'The Truth In Your Eyes.'“

In case you missed it, last Friday SAVAGE HANDS unveiled their brand new music video for single 'Blue'. Check it out here: https://youtu.be/CKxvhKTUaE8.

Pre-order 'The Truth In Your Eyes' here: https://shrptn.co/savagehands

More on 'The Truth In Your Eyes': Watch the official music video for first single 'Memory' here: https://youtu.be/czgKk3juXvs And watch the official music video for second single 'Demon' here: https://youtu.be/9rts4cCh5Kg

'The Truth In Your Eyes' tracklisting: 1. Memory 2. Brain Dead 3. Blue 4. Demon 5. Rotten Soul 6. Washed Away 7. Lonely 8. Bloodshot 9. Break The Ice 10. Crazy 11. Never Change

SAVAGE HANDS will be touring the US in February/March 2020 with WHILE SHE SLEEPS. See the full dates below.

SAVAGE HANDS USA Tour Dates: Supporting WHILE SHE SLEEPS FEB 13 - ORLANDO, FL - THE ABBEY FEB 14 - ATLANTA,GA - MASQUERADE HELL FEB 15 - DURHAM,NC - MOTORCO MUSIC HALL FEB 17 - BALTIMORE,MD - OTTOBAR FEB 18 - PHILADELPHIA,PA - UNION TRANSFER FEB 19 - NEW YORK,NY - GRAMERCY THEATRE FEB 21 - POUGHKEEPSIE,NY - THE LOFT FEB 22 - SOMERVILLE,MA - ONCE BALLROOM FEB 24 - BUFFALO,NY - REC ROOM FEB 26 - OTTOWA,ON - BRASS MONKEY FEB 27 - MONTREAL,QC - FAIRMOUNT THEATRE FEB 29 - TORONTO,ON - HARD LUCK MAR 01 - DETROIT,MI - THE SHELTER MAR 02 - CHICAGO,IL - BOTTOM LOUNGE MAR 03 - ST PAUL,MN - AMSTERDAM BAR & HALL MAR 05 - HOUSTON,TX - WAREHOUSE LIVE STUDIO MAR 06 - AUSTIN,TX - COME AND TAKE IT LIVE MAR 07 - FORT WORTH,TX - TOMCATS WEST MAR 09 - KANSAS CITY,MO - AFTERSHOCK MAR 10 - DENVER,CO - MARQUIS THEATER MAR 11 - SALT LAKE CITY,UT - IN THE VENUE MAR 13 - SACRAMENTO,CA - HOLY DIVER MAR 14 - LOS ANGELES,CA - THE ROXY THEATRE MAR 15 - LAS VEGAS,NV - BACKSTAGE BAR & BILLIARDS MAR 17 - PHOENIX,AZ - THE REBEL LOUNGE

Just above a scorching sonic fusion of alternative experimentation, metallic energy, and rock appeal, SAVAGE HANDS detail the trials and tribulations of addiction, deceit, depression, and heartbreak. The Maryland quintet, consisting of Michael Garrow [vocals], Justin Hein [guitar], Nathan O’Brien [guitar], Jayvon Green [bass], and Alex Gacek [drums]—paint poignant pictures without pulling any punches on their 2020 full-length debut, 'The Truth In Your Eyes'. “We worked really hard on trying to create memorable moments in each song,” says Michael. “The lyrics and melodies were the main focus. It was about doing something a little different. All of the stories on the record point towards truth and lies. If you look at someone, their eyes will often reveal the truth, even if they don’t say it. We tried to take some risks and really just strive to be us.” The metalcore-infused-alternative-rock outfit introduced a singular identity on the 2018 EP, 'Barely Alive'. The project quietly put up nearly 2 million total streams in less than a year as they attracted early praise from the likes of Alternative Press who claimed, “it’s the lyricism that channels the most emotion.” In between touring with the likes of WAGE WAR, PALISADES AND KUBLAI KHAN, they signed to SharpTone Records and began work on what would become 'The Truth In Your Eyes'. SAVAGE HANDS built a full studio at Michael’s place and recorded these eleven tracks alongside producer Andrew Baylis [MY ENEMIES & I, SYLAR]. Ultimately, SAVAGE HANDS present a whole new story for heavy music with heart-wrenching honesty.

SAVAGE HANDS are: Michael Garrow - vocals Justin Hein - guitar Nathan O’Brien - guitar Jayvon Green - bass Alex Gacek - drums

More info: www.facebook.com/SavageHands www.instagram.com/savagehandsmd www.savagehands.net

[10cities10years]

[I’ve changed names when I felt like it]

I came to on an elevator, floating somewhere between the first and fifth floor. At my feet, half-conscious but laughing all the same, was my friend, Ariel. Abruptly, the elevator stopped – had it been going up or down? – and the doors opened to reveal a parking garage.

“Where did you park?” I asked  her, not entirely certain where I was or how I got there, but apparently fully cognizant of our mission to find Ariel’s car. From her position splayed out on the ground, she pressed the button on her key fob. No horn. The vehicle, it seemed, was not on this floor, whichever floor that was. The doors closed and we progressed to the next.

This continued for a few more minutes – or was it half an hour – with Ariel losing the fight to regain her footing and I determinedly stepping out of the elevator on each floor and trying to spy the missing car. Eventually, either through exhaustion or the miraculous return of some sense, I realized that even if we found her car, Ariel was in no state to drive. I sent the elevator back to the ground floor.

Exiting the parking garage, I half carried, half dragged my friend to the street and waved down a taxi, sliding her into the backseat.

“Tell him your address,” I commanded Ariel, which she dutifully did. I gave the driver a twenty dollar bill and they were off.

With each passing minute in the late March night air, my senses were gradually returning to me. I walked to clear my head a bit before waving down a taxi for myself. Slouched  in the backseat, I gave the driver my address and held loosely onto my fleeting consciousness until I arrived home. My neighborhood: Fisk-Meharry, Nashville.

Safe and Secure

I arrived in Nashville defeated. I had crawled through San Francisco and Chicago amidst the worst of the Great Recession and come out the other side, officially in the latter half of 10 Cities/10 Years; I was drained, bitter, and ready to give up. Just a few weeks prior to my move, I briefly contemplated scrapping my plans and moving into an apartment with my brother in Austin. It would’ve been a terrible idea (for both of us).

I finally settled on a dirt cheap two-bedroom apartment in the predominantly black neighborhood between two historically African-American colleges, Fisk University and Meharry Medical College. And by “predominantly,” I mean, the only white people I saw were driving through with their windows securely rolled up.

Like my time in West Philly, I heard frequently that Fisk-Meharry was a dangerous neighborhood, including from my white landlord and my black neighbors. Taxi drivers regularly refused to drive me back home after work or to pick me up when I called for a ride. The recession had hit Nashville, too, leaving city projects in my area, intended to usher in new growth and development, incomplete or abandoned altogether. I walked the neighborhood every day without being accosted, but its reputation was fixed.

I lived on an island set upon a sea of liquor.

Every month, I went through a handle each of bargain bin whiskey and vodka – the kind that comes in plastic jugs and doesn’t even pretend to have a pedigree – on top of drinking with coworkers after nearly every shift and any other occasion I could find for “exploring” Nashville. When I couldn’t work up the energy to go out in public, I hid inside my apartment, a sparsely furnished grotto for my isolation.

My one lifeline to humanity those first months in Nashville was Ashley, the woman I’d left in Charlotte. After having spent four years far apart, only one state divided us now and we still had a crackling electricity in our flirtations. She’d endured the separation and my relationship with Selene – the Facebook posts, the pictures, the public display of romance that we’ve masochistically made a part of our societal norm – under the pretense that we were “just friends.” But we were never just friends. Or, more accurately, we were never good at being friends.

As long as the possibility of a future romance remained on the table – and with Ashley, it always did – she tolerated the distance, both physical and emotional.

In my post-Chicago malaise, I gifted Ashley with the fractured pieces of my psyche. She helped me put them back together. We used the word “love” – we never had during the nascent, Charlotte period of our relationship. I started making concessions: I could end my project a year early, count my hometown as Year 1, and move back to North Carolina once I finished so we could live near her family. That’s all that mattered to her.

Now a nurse, Ashley looked into travel nursing so she could spend a few months in whichever city I lived. I supported the idea, but it meant giving her a vote in my next cities. She wanted to live in Arizona, but I was adamant against it: the state had recently passed Arizona SB 1070, the draconian anti-immigration law, and I suppose I felt I was making some political point with my stance. Mostly, I just didn’t want to be back in the Southwest again.

Our long distance relationship lasted nearly four months, a mix of highs and lows. The week of Thanksgiving, we spent a few days in a secluded cabin up in the Great Smoky Mountains, the border between her state and mine. The picturesque, revitalizing backdrop offered all the promises and pleasures of what a simple life together could be.

So, of course, I broke up with her. The distance – the continued separation – required too much energy, too much focus, and the thought of stitching together a relationship over the next four to five uncertain years apart was unthinkable. Once again, I had a choice between Ashley and my project, and I chose 10 Cities/10 Years.

Nash Vegas

After a fruitless and demoralizing stint at a phone bank calling up dissatisfied and very angry customers, I found a gig waiting tables in downtown Nashville. The restaurant, Demos’, is a regional institution with its steaks and spaghetti varieties, positioned in that niche between fine dining and generic family fare. All of Nashville came through those doors, whether to eat or to serve.

The staff at Demos’ was your usual mix of students, burn outs, lifers, and strivers. Like Los Angeles for actors, screenwriters, and directors, Nashville’s official status as Music City means seemingly everyone in the service industry has (or had) a dream of making it in the music business.

It was the one city where, when I told people I was a writer, they immediately assumed songwriter.

As I gradually climbed out of my depression, the Demos’ crew was always around to provide at least one drinking buddy. In an industry with massive turnover, some servers came and went in a matter of months or even weeks. From shift to shift, I could repeat the exact same day – serve lunch, go for midday drinks and pool at Buffalo’s Billiards, serve dinner (partially in the bag), and then get more drinks – with a whole new group of coworkers. Server life is a bit like Groundhog Day.

Not everyone vanished. There were a core group of Demos’ servers who regularly went out together, including the high spirited Ariel, a favorite drinking companion.

That black out night in the elevator had begun commonly enough at the Beer Seller, where our group was playing pool and watching March Madness. A couple hours into the night, we were joined by one of our usual creepy hangers-on.

There is a type of older man who hovers in bars where groups of young friends regularly gather. These men ingratiate themselves into the group with the hopes of getting a shot at one of the attractive, young girls, which, as servers, we had no shortage of. Everyone knows their intentions and no one trusts them, but they buy drinks and other substances, so the group usually tolerates their presence.

That night, our creep – John? Sure, let’s go with John – had supplied the usual rounds when he offered to up the ante. Retrieving his wallet, he slipped out tabs of what, at the time, I assumed were Xanax. I suppose they could have been almost anything, but I wasn’t really in a questioning mood. Four of us – John, Ariel, myself, and Will, another coworker – put the tabs on our tongues and washed them back with beer.

And then I woke up on the elevator.

A few days later, when Ariel and I had a shift together, she beelined straight to me.

“How did I get home?” She asked, a mix of confusion and concern in her tone.

I told her about the cab. Thanking me profusely, she explained that she could remember most of the night, but not what happened after we had been kicked out of the last bar. As she recounted, after splitting from John and Will, we had bounced from bar to bar, dancing at one, hogging the jukebox at another, generally being young and obnoxious as you do when your mind is erased.

She could recall up until the point that we left the bar, well after closing time, and then, like something out of science fiction, we swapped consciousness: the moment she blacked out, I came back online and filled in the rest of the memory. She remembered the partying, I remembered our egress, and together, we completed the night.

As the year in Nashville progressed and each day pushed Chicago further into memory, I regained my sense of purpose. For the better part of a year, when I thought of 10 Cities/10 Years, all I saw was everything I had lost, everything I had given up for this quixotic venture.

The friends I made at Demos’, the strangers I met in bars and the stories they told, even the failed attempts at romantic flings, these were all a reminder of why I had set out on this path half a decade prior, and why I had to keep going. In the process of falling in and out of love, I had lost sight of what mattered: the people on the road.

That year, my sixth, I made a vow to myself: I would complete this project no matter what came my way, even it if killed me. So what if I was throwing good money after bad, I had come this far, and I was going to let it ride.

Ironically, after resisting Ashley’s direction of my future, for Year 7, I created an online poll to let friends and strangers determine my next city: Austin, Denver, Portland, or Seattle. When the voting closed, Seattle claimed the victory by one vote.

Let It Ride

One of my last nights in Nashville, I ascended the towering grassy hill known as Love Circle, joined by Dustin and Jacky, two close friends from Demos’. As its name implies, the spot is a popular, shall we say, “make out” spot, but at a nearly 800 feet elevation, it also offers one of the best views of the entire city. We climbed up to the hill with a bottle of Eagle Rare and sat on top of the world, recounting our shared times and envisioning our separate futures.

Jacky was a singer in a band, Dustin was in school, and I had four long, unknowable years ahead of me. But for a short time, our paths had merged.

Maybe I’m just projecting, but that night on Love Circle had the feel of a transitional moment for all of us. High above the city that had brought together three dreamers from different hometowns, we could see for miles. Other than a few clouds, we had clear skies. I felt something I hadn’t in a very long time: contentment.

And that was reason enough to keep going.

Keep reading: Start from the beginning

Letting It Ride: Remembering (and forgetting) what mattered in #MusicCity #Nashville #Travel I came to on an elevator, floating somewhere between the first and fifth floor. At my feet, half-conscious but laughing all the same, was my friend, Ariel.