#I was waiting so long to see emo ford

[torchickentacos]

You’re not being annoying about ships though, your contestshipping thoughts are consistently one of my Tumblr highlights. Thank you for still being in the Pokémon anime trenches in 2k24, your honor.

Anon, I love you. I would die for you. I would do anything for you. Just for you I'm going to pledge to talk about them more often!!! You have enabled me and I will expand on my thoughts on those tags here ❤️🌹 also god djfhdkjn I don't think I can get out of the trenches 😭 I'm just stuck here lmao. I couldn't leave if I tried. May and Drew are holding me hostage, actually. He's got a knife (because May can't be trusted with sharp objects).

Anyways. referenced post:

EXPANDING MY THOUGHTS:

So, disclaimer, these are all my opinions, and while they're rooted in canon, I'm also just doing whatever I want. As I do. Also, my opinions change all the time and I have infinite versions of how I think they'd play out in a canon context, but here's the one that I'm feeling today lol.

I think that 'falling first' versus 'falling harder' really isn't an indicator of any sort of emotional inequality. I can see where 'fell harder' might indicate to some people that there's a sense of one character being down worse than the other, but honestly I always took it as 'which character gets hit in the face by it at random (harder) and which character has been living with it for years (faster)'.

Like, okay. I think that in a few years past canon, 15-16 years old (which is the absolute earliest that I can see the two of them figuring it out honestly), here's the deal: For Drew, being in love is just a fact of daily life at that point. Even in canon it seems to have been that way. Just a quiet thing that followed him around, a constant little spark. I like to think that they travel together as friends for a while, and it's, like, 'he makes breakfast, he trains his pokemon, he plans their itinerary, he's madly in love, they buy supplies for the week-' etc. It's just... there. He's aware of it and probably largely ignores it after a point. Like, it's just become a fact. He has green hair, he has green eyes, he's in love, he has a Roserade, he wears weird pants. It's a part of him- not a defining feature, but a feature nonetheless. It's not who he is, but it's part of the mosaic. He fell first and he's been on the ground waiting ever since, and he's probably kind of emo and very... Drew about it sometimes (/lh), but largely, he just lives with it.

For May, it's probably more like... okay, hear me out on this. Once, I got a large 2-inch shard of glass in the side of my foot, and I didn't notice until I saw the blood that I'd trailed on the kitchen tile. It didn't hurt. I didn't feel it. I had no idea somehow, but it was still there. It only felt like it was there once I noticed it, there was this weird psychosomatic type of thing that happened. I think for May, it's like that. It didn't come on suddenly, it was always there, she just noticed it suddenly and that's what causes the feelings to hit. It's falling hard and all at once (but also it's been there for so long). It's vertigo and disorientation as your entire view of a person shifts into where it belongs. Nothing's changed, it's always been that way, but you see it for what it is now. Everything falls into place, but it's still a hard, sudden fall. I think she lands on her feet, though.

That is what I mean when I say that I think that Drew fell first but May fell harder. Drew fell first and he knew it the entire time. I think that he was able to call it what it was pretty quickly. He recognized it and acted on it in his weird little idiosyncratic ways and just lived with it. May, however, probably doesn't realize until some random moment, some everyday occurrence, and it hits her like a truck. Ford F150. Chevrolet Silverado. Dodge ram. What other trucks do I know from country music and car commercials??? Anyways, it's this sudden, jarring, off-kilter kind of realization, I'd imagine. Just a 'wait, holy shit' kind of moment where it all falls into place.

[ishikawayukis]

after two freaking long and busy months, I’m back to talk about OP✌🏽✨

el trauma fue grande la verdad JAJAJA todavía nada me ha hecho llorar como marineford, keyword todavía porque ay dios ya me veo JAJAJAJAJAJA

no literal, porque como básicamente ✨I’m binge-watching✨ hay momentos que yo digo “siento que hace unos cuantos arcos atrás mencionaron algo de esto” and it’s crazy bc when you connect those episodes (most of the time with the help of recaps too lol) you’re like “damn, Oda WAS cooking”

LITERAL YO ASÍ DE “ojalá Law me salvé a mi niño” Y MÁS QUE- ay no te vayas a reír de mí pero, la vida me dijo que me iba a volver loca y yo dije “pues voy a ver one piece para no volverme tan loca” y que ya estoy en Whole Cake Island😶‍🌫️ JAJAJAJJAAJJAJAJAJAJA BELLE I MIGHT HAVE A PROBLEM AND I MIGHT CRY IN THIS ARC TOO I CAN FEEL IT AJSJWJ- ✨en fin✨ después del mini susto al inicio de Punk Hazard, estoy tan feliz de que Law se haya aliado con Luffy y que ya básicamente sean amigos por siempre aunque finja negarlo🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽 my favorite emo boy with emotional issues fr

I’m hoping that Mackenyu does come out with more merch for season 2 bc Chopper and Robin merch?? PLEASE I NEED THAT (hasta podría sacar merch para Ace, por favor Mackenyu las posibilidades son infinitas, mente visionaria okay? JAJAJA)

literally the more episodes I watch the more I feel like I could write an essay about the different friendship dynamics between them and why they are all so strong and special in their own way: Zoro diciéndole a Luffy que no pueden volver a perder en Punk Hazard, Luffy diciéndole a Franky sin dudar que él podía comerse la fruta de Ace y Brook admirando el buen corazón de Sanji en Zou- I can talk and cry about each dynamic and I won’t take any slander against them🔪🔪🔪

BELLE LOS POSTERS AAAAAAAA- cuando sacaron los nuevos posters y vi el de Sanji mi mente dijo “JUSTO LO QUE LE DIJE A BELLE” AND THEN I READ IT SAID ONLY ALIVE AND I WAS LIKE HOLY SH*T WAIT WHAT IS THIS????

I swear everything was so cruel, but at least after Fishman Island it started being more emotionally healing bc seeing how much they all improved?? me sentí tan orgullosa de ellos<3 (aunque me hayan empezado a blanquear a Robin, Zoro y Usopp😔💔) and Sanji was so silly that man almost died out of true joy JAJAJAJA y casi me mata al Chopper pero de estrés también😂😭 and then it all became sad and cruel again with Dressrosa🤡😭 pero ay no, yo sentí que fue más largo que Alabasta en serio por un momento dije “ya no más por favor” JAJAJAJAJAJA but at least we got Barto and some Corazon flashbacks 🥹🫶🏽

Hoy ya puedo ver esos edits de Ace con la canción y apreciarlos como debe de ser JAJAJAJAJAJA in fact, I’m glad I can see more memes and stuff bc I’m slowly reaching Wano but it’s also getting harder to not get spoiled so it kinda feels like a russian roulette when looking for memes/fanart 💀😭

under read more because i got a bit long too LMAO

no escupas al cielo q vas a terminar perdiendo AJJAJA no but i don't think anything made me cry as much as marine ford did tbh, i'm thinking about all the arcs post time skip and if anything i was just Stressed LMAO

LLEGASTE A WHOLE CAKEEEEEE omg i am no one to judge or say anything because i did watch it at an incredibly fast pace too LMAO and not to be sanji biased (but i am) but whole cake is literally one of my fave arcs, i suffered a lot with it but man it's just so good. literally the only arc where i can tell you the specific episodes that fucked me up LSKDHGL y laaaaaaaaw no te mentiré cuando lo vi en punk hazard siendo un maldito dije ay no me lo cambiaron de bando, pero era todo una mentira AJAJAJ su alianza es literal lo mejor :')

NO EXACTOOOOOO, ya sean sutiles o no todas las relaciones entre los strawhats son tan importantes y ahí tienes a estúpidos q sólo se fijan en quien es más fuerte like who caaaaaaaares!!! i'm gonna join you writting that essay because Man, i have so many thoughts

NO BUT THAT WAS MY REACTION WITH THE NEW ONES i saw sanji's and was like oh my god what a fucking loser i love him and then like wait... wait a Second what do you mean only alive is this gonna be addressed because what do you MEAN (it was you know it since you're in wc already LMAO)

ver a todos como mejoraron en fmi es demasiado bonito pq de verdad valieron los dos años lejos aunq hayan sido lo peor :') dressrosa is ridiculously long i think it's the arc that took me the longest because i was like please....... please Enough with the flashbacks we get it please let's just move ooooon. i think that part of that is that everything happens within one day so a minute is literally one episode and i was like what is this hunterxhunter?? but the introduction of barto and cora were honestly worth it (even if cora made me cry LMAO)

es tan difícil evitar los spoilers al final, ahora yo estoy entregada a spoilearme con el manga pq es casi inevitable con lo metida q estoy AJAJA

[obeythebreadlord]

No one:

Robbie: welcome to the dark side homie

Mabel straightened Ford’s hair and now he looks like an emo kid

[theladyfromplanetx]

Dear Lawrence Kasdan So, You Say You Love Han Solo

Dear Lawrence,

I hear there’s a bit of a kerfuffle going on about the Han Solo movie you’re EPing and have co-written with your son. I wish I could tell you I was sorry to hear that, but in all honesty I’ve been hoping for the last few years that someone would kill this project with fire and then nuke it from space for good measure. Sure, most of the reason that large chunks of the nerd world have responded to the very idea of this film is that a lots of people, including me, think it’s a fool’s errand for any actor other than Harrison Ford to strap on Han Solo’s DL-44 blaster. But ever since the release of The Force Awakens, I’ve had a second reason for saying:

to this venture.

I kind of hate to say it, Lawrence, but it’s not me: It’s you.

You see, the The Force Awakens did something to me that even The Star Wars Holiday Special, painfully delivered prequel lines about sand, and the very existence of Jar Jar Binks couldn’t do: The Force Awakens made me regret that Star Wars is still a thing.

It made me regret that children were being introduced to something that used to be innocent and good-hearted by a film that shows that the end game of youthful heroism is failure and running away (and that Han should have stuck to his initial demand of $10,000 all in advance in A New Hope).

It made me angry that nobody among the-powers-that-be looked at it, took a deep breath and said “wait a minute. In shadow-rebooting A New Hope, do we really need to make two of the biggest characters in film history pathetic runaway losers and the other a heartless automaton who would kill her son on (not a)Death Star unless hapless sucker Han showed up to do her bidding and die trying to bring him home…even though that request made not a lick of sense given that the Force-sensitive parent who could actually have had an influence was the bidding mother would have just blown Kylo clear out of the sky had Han not shown up to (1) solve her problem by getting yet another (not a)Death Star shield down and (2) die?“

It made me rue how far we’ve fallen as a critical thinkers when we can be hoodwinked so easily that we spend a couple of billion at the movie theatre on a film that��s dressed up to look and feel like Star Wars, but is utterly life- and hope-denying at its core and presents a kind of nihilism that we’d probably reject as an audience if the words STAR WARS weren’t plastered on it.

Oh, also, the story doesn’t really make any sense.

As you can see, eighteen months later, I can still get a bit aggrieved by all this. However, to quote one of the most egregiously jaw-dropping placeholder lines in The Force Awakens, that is “a story for another day.” (Sorry, Lawrence and JJ, but in a past life, which I call the late 1990s, I went to film school and put in my time in the screenwriting trenches as well. You know and I know that line right there would have gotten you laughed out of an on-line screenwriting class at an unaccredited diploma mill.)

The story for today is that I’m not really keen on the idea of you touching the character of Han Solo again, both because of TFA and because of whatever happened to upend the Solo standalone’s directors. The weight of the evidence coming from the usual suspects (aka unnamed sources) is that the disagreements over the tone of the film and the character of Solo became so vast that somebody had to go. Lord/Miller, as I’ve read in the millions of lines of digital type about this and to which I’m now adding, saw the film and the character as funny, while you insisted that Solo was not funny, but was selfish and sarcastic. Other descriptors of Solo that have been thrown around and attributed to you re: Solo are “narcissistic,” “uncaring,” “out for himself,” and “mean.”

Oh, and you’ve also been quoted as saying you “love Han Solo.”

And therein lies the problem.

Now no one wants a Han Solo movie…hm. I could just stop there for a lot of the fandom, but I’ll proceed.

No one wants a Han Solo movie in which Solo keeps trying to get Chewie to pull his finger, but I’d like to propose, Larry, that perhaps Lord/Miller weren’t the only problem here, because it seems that you actually don’t love the same character that the audience loved in the Original Trilogy. You love the darker version of the character that was tossed around in story conferences and in early drafts and you love the darker story that Lucas toyed with, but decided against using (thank the Makers) in Return of the Jedi. You love the Han Solo that Lucas and Leigh Brackett introduced as the “before” Han at the beginning of A New Hope, but not the “after” he became by the end of that film and the “after-after” he became by the end of ROTJ. Now that Lucas and his lighter view of the Star Wars universe are no longer on the scene, it feels like you’re trying to retcon Han Solo to win a battle you fought and lost long ago and in the process create a smuggler whose heart isn’t actually made of gold anymore.

I know that’s not a very nice thing for me to say, but I can’t help but say it, given how you and JJ had your way with the character in TFA, because he certainly wasn’t the character we left at the end of ROTJ. Nor, I should note, is he the character that we met in Bloodline, the Disney/Lucasfilm novel released after TFA and set five years before it, in which Han and Leia are still happily married and Han is pretty much an identifiable older version of ROTJ Han. TFA Han was an awkward mash-up of a script portraying an aged version of the character we met at the beginning of A New Hope and an actor playing hard against the script to show us a broken man wandering the galaxy and trying to make it work.

That impetus — to remake a beloved hero in a less heroic image — is kind of ugly in any context, despite all the folks who will insist “BUT IT’S REAL” as if real had anything to do with a franchise that for forty years has appealed to the little, innocent part of us that still wants to believe in Santa. It’s particularly a problem when applied to the character of Solo and the role that character plays for Star Wars.

Solo’s not the kid who, twenty minutes into the Original Trilogy, decides he wants to be a Jedi and spends the next five hours and forty minutes of film becoming just that. He’s not the character with royal roots who has been fighting for the good guys since before the first film started and continues to do so until the trilogies end.

He’s the character who has to find his better angels, who has to change in order to become the hero/man/boyfriend/partner/friend he decides he wants to be. He’s a guy who has to overcome his natural instincts for self-preservation. He needs to learn to say “I’m sorry.” He’s snarky, FUNNY, and sometimes grudgingly follows the conscience he’d rather not have in order to do the right thing. He’s not always really convinced about the whole “religion” thing, he’s had some rough times, he’s done some rotten things, and he likes money.

It’s no big mystery why Solo is a fan favorite. It’s Harrison Ford, yes, but its also because Solo is as much like all of us as someone can be in a universe with hyperdrives, lightsabers, and Wookiees. He gives the Star Wars universe some identifiable grounding — and HUMOR. (If you don’t believe me, see: prequels.)

And by the end of Return of the Jedi, Solo became the person we’d all like to believe we are or can be— the one whose better angels have won out and given him a real shot at a happily ever after.

Oh, right, that didn’t happen. Well, it did for 30 plus years, and then it didn’t. Thanks, Larry. Always good to remind myself of Han Solo’s utterly pointless death scene in TFA, a death that many of us steeled ourselves against because we were pretty sure it was coming. It was gutting, though, not because it happened, but because it came at the top of act three of a film that had already stripped the character of his OT arc and also because the death was utterly devoid of heroic meaning or salvific result, given that all it did in the context of the film was turn Darth Emo into Darth Lyle Menendez and make Leia sit down and look somewhat upset.

But it can’t just be a pointlessly sad death of a character who, for all the talking up JJ did about cool rogue Han Solo, wasn’t played that way and didn’t come off that way, right? We all know that when you take down an iconic character like that, you do it with the endgame all planned out. You know exactly how that death — of a parent who rouses himself from his brokenness and ennui to risk his life for son he believes is likely already beyond his reach because the woman he loves has asked him to — will reverberate across the sequel trilogy and, ultimately, we’ll see that Solo’s final act WAS heroic. In fact, it was Kenobi-like. Aslan-like. Christ-like. You gave Solo the ultimate 180-degree arc, didn’t you? He died to save his kid, he died so everybody else could live, and you know it, right, Larry? You’ve got this whole thing mapped out, right, bud? I mean, c’mon, you love Han Solo, so you wouldn’t strip the character of his growth, throw him down an endless shaft (holy cow, dude, you literally shafted him!), and walk away to write another movie about him NOT being a hero, would you?

Oh.

Maybe you did.

So…you’re telling me that it’s possible Han’s final act was utterly futile, solely a device to tell us Darth Emo is really, really evil ? I think we already knew that, given the platypus mask, Vader lust, and the blowing up of a solar system. But, hey, thanks for getting people in our already messed-up world to argue that patricide can be justified; what’s been missing from our pop culture crap stew for the last decade is Star Wars fans arguing that the vastly immoral may be moral because they identify with the patricidal emo character whom they want to end up with the Mary Sue whose mind he attacked in the TFA version of a rape scene. I’ll never know how you avoided feminist outrage there, but count your lucky stars that feminists were so happy to have a female (not)Luke Skywalker in Star Wars that they overlooked that.

So now you move onto the Han Solo film, wherein, after meeting loser, regressed, lost, runaway and dead Han in TFA, we’re going to meet selfish, sarcastic, mean, narcissistic, and out for himself but not funny Han.

Can’t wait. By which I mean I could have happily waited forever, because I wasn’t waiting. I WASN’T WAITING, LARRY.

I get it, though. I’ve seen most of your work. You’re a serious filmmaker — you went from Larry to Lawrence. The Big Chill, Grand Canyon, Accidental Tourist, Mumford. I’ve seen ’em all. God help me, I even saw Dreamcatcher…but that’s a story for another day. What I know from those films is that when you’re calling the shots, nothing is black and white. Everything is a shade of gray.

What I also know is that those films are not made for the part of us that still wants to believe in Santa and that gray is not a good color for Star Wars. Star Wars became the cultural touchstone it is precisely because it jumped into a very gray period in our history, with gas lines and Soviets and malaise, with a black-and-white, good versus evil morality that made everyone just a little bit happier when they left the theatre. You didn’t question if the heroes were heroes or the villains were villains. In its own goofball way, Star Wars — with its complete faith in the power of hope — was countercultural.

Now? The new Star Wars took one look around at our current culture and instead of being countercultural, happily jumped right into the morass and is swimming around in the sludge of relativism. Heroes become failures and run away. Evil characters are given some sort of justification for being evil. Rebels fighting against the Empire are portrayed as assassins instead of people fighting a monstrous evil. The Resistance is some kind of non-governmental paramilitary group. Luke Skywalker thinks the Jedi must end. Oh, and the last two films you’ve written focus on a less noble version of the character you claim to love.

Star Wars is starting to look like a reflection of the worst of us as adults and as a society, instead of a goofy, lovable, out-of-this-galaxy inspiration to kids (and the kid in everyone) to be the best version of themselves.

Hey, I’m sure everyone at Lucasfilm is just fine with this, because these films, despite their shaky worldview, are also printing money, but, Larry, consider that maybe Wonder Woman has proven that there’s still a huge audience for naivete, goodness, and hope. Since you now have Ron Howard, who’s specialized in empathetic leads even in complex films over the years, can you maybe jettison the gray and try to create just one more time not the Han Solo that you love, but the Han Solo that is a combination of you, George Lucas, Irvin Kershner, Harrison Ford, and Leigh Brackett?

That’s the Han — the funny, snarky, constantly-irked one who talked a good game about being out for himself but somehow never was when the chips were down — that the audience has loved for forty years, because, in the end, CS Lewis was as right about this as he was about most things:

Oh, and if you could de-age Harrison Ford so he could play the role, that’d be great too…kthxbai.

Best,

Annie

Written in 2017 by Anne Michaela.

[need-a-fugue]

Why Not? - Chapter One

Summary: With a garage to run and a young daughter to, well… run after, Bucky Barnes doesn’t exactly have time for dating. And with his relationship track record – and the constant meddling of a certain overbearing best friend – he’s not so sure that’s a bad thing. But then he meets Annie – a rather insistent, pretty damn cute fellow car enthusiast – and it’s got him asking himself, despite all his hesitations, why not?

Author’s Note: Written for Little Darlin’s Mystery AU Challenge. Thanks to @sourpatchkidsandacokecan​ for triggering this… sprawling thing simply by supplying me with the prompt of Mechanic!AU for Bucky. It’s taken on a life of its own already… look at what you’ve done!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Warnings: Bit of angst, mostly fluff.

Chapter One

It’s late summer when the utterly recognizable Tony Stark first rolls up to the shop, driving in a blindingly white 1953 Corvette convertible… top down, rusty-red leather interior looking warm and lush bathed in the early morning sun. “Supposed to be one of the first off the line,” he tells Bucky, hopping out of the car and slamming the door just hard enough to make him flinch. “That’s what my dad said anyway. Pretty sure he loved the damn thing more than he loved me.”

Bucky’s jaw nearly hits the floor, breath catching in his chest as he steps outside the wide-open garage door to take a look. Drool practically drips from his lips onto the pristine white paint job, his eyes narrowing to slits at the glare off of the stainless trim. It is… perfect. Until he steps around to the passenger’s side and sees the damage. 

“Yeah,” Stark intones casually, not seeming at all embarrassed about the foot-long dent that runs the length of the door. “Minor parallel parking incident. You know how crazy things can get in upper Manhattan during rush hour.”

Bucky’s speechless. And a bit disgusted. And also unbelievably hesitant. “I… we’re not… I mean…” He lets his fingers gingerly press into the body to further inspect the damage, feeling the splintered paint, jagged, naked fiberglass beneath. “We do body work here, but… this is a different kind of beast altogether.”

The man simply stares at him, sunglass-cloaked eyes burrowing into him in an unsettling sort of assessment as his right foot – no doubt wearing a shoe that cost more than Bucky’s entire wardrobe – begins tapping out an impatient rhythm. “My assistant said I should come here. She said you could handle it.” He drops his glasses down just a bit, just enough to be able to peer over the tops of them at the still-reticent mechanic. He steps closer and leans in, reads the nametag standing out in bright white atop his pale blue shirt. “Bucky,” he reads aloud, rolling the name on his tongue. Then, one suspicious brow raised, “Bucky?”

“Yeah,” he mutters, jaw tensing, steeling himself for what’s to come. This wouldn’t be the first time some tool in a three-piece suit came in here and made fun of his name, talked down to him like he was nothing more than, well, some dumb mechanic.

The man’s shoulders draw up, pulling him into a proud stance, and he cocks his head again, this time in the other direction. Bucky feels the rest of his body tense up now too, certain that he’s somehow being… inspected by this stranger. Tony circles him slowly, stopping once he drops into the shade of the building. He takes a step back and leans into the brick façade, pulls his glasses off and wipes them clean with a freaking pocket square. “You married, Bucky?” he asks, staring down at his glasses.

Bucky barely moves, simply quirking a brow in the man’s direction. “Why? You proposing?”

He lets out a bright, high-pitched scoff. “You wish. I could give you everything you ever wanted and then some.”

“Because you have money? Didn’t anyone ever tell you money can’t buy happiness?”

Another scoff, this one deep and throaty and chased out by a dramatic roll of his eyes. “It certainly helps.” Tony’s gaze ticks over to Bucky’s left hand. “No ring,” he muses vaguely.

“Yeah, well, I got it caught in fan belt a few years back. Almost took off my whole damn hand.”

“Ah, so you are married,” he intones, the inflection revealing… is it relief? Or is it disappointment?

“Divorced,” he corrects, still caught up in this strange and sudden stare down. “Mr. Stark,” he tries finally, only to get shut down by a flippant hand waving through the air.

“Look, I got a lot going on today. I really don’t want to have to drive across town to some other garage. So…” He tosses the keys up into the air, landing them perfectly in Bucky’s open palm with a delicate clink. “Just… do what you can.”

He stands – stunned – for a long moment, unsure quite what to do as he watches the man retreat to the street and climb into a waiting limo. The entire interaction takes less than five minutes. Yet it feels… strange, certainly, but also somehow… weighty. Like meeting Tony Stark on this random August day, rolling these unfamiliar keys in his hand as he stands beneath the blaring hot sun means something.

He startles back to reality only once a heavy hand falls to his shoulder, Steve’s voice settling in his ear. “Was that…”

He nods, pulls in a deep and grounding breath – “Are all rich people… nuts?” – and turns to face his friend and business partner.

Steve simply shrugs. “Couldn’t tell ya… you’re the richest guy I know, and that’s just because you haven’t put in your half of the rent yet.”

                                                           000

They see a lot of Tony Stark over the next few weeks. At first, he stops by just to check in on the Vette, making it a point to slink into the garage first thing every morning until the job is finally done. Bucky assumes – once the ridiculously generous check is in his hand and the car is backed out of the shop – that they’ve seen the last of the man. But not two days later, he shows up with a 1932 Ford Roadster – nothing wrong with it, just thought they might like to see. And the following week he brings in his first Ferrari – a gift for his twenty-first birthday – to have the tires rotated.

Each and every time he stops in, Bucky gets the distinct feeling that he’s being somehow scrutinized by the man, dissected… thoroughly sussed out. He’s not quite sure why… perhaps it’s the barrage of – seemingly conversational – personal questions. Or maybe it’s the way he wanders around the garage, touching everything, inspecting everything. Maybe it’s the fact that he doesn’t ask anything of Steve the few times he pops out of the office to say hi, doesn’t interrogate him, nor really interact with him at all, his focus remaining wholly on Bucky.

It’s all very… odd. And unsettling. And if it weren’t for the fact that he lays down three times what the job is worth every time he brings in a car for some sort of unnecessary maintenance, Bucky would tell the man to take his creepy inquisition and hit the bricks.

But they’ve made almost five grand off of him in the last three weeks, and if he tells him to get lost, he’s pretty sure that Steve will castrate him with a zip saw. Truth be told, he’s on the verge of taking that chance, steeling himself to confront the eccentric billionaire when he sees the limo pull up yet again, cursing under his breath for a long moment before stepping outside to open up the garage doors.

Then he sees it, bright and gleaming in the burning hot sun as Stark whips around the corner and flies up into the bay, slamming on the parking brake before hopping out in a single deft move and leaning his hip onto the dark green door, smirk washing over his already rather smug face.

He gives him the basic backstory – upgraded rims and a new top, but otherwise an original… only 8,000 miles… one of just about thirty in existence.

But Bucky couldn’t care less about the words coming out of his mouth. And frankly, he doesn’t give a shit what kinds of questions or curious stares he’s about to receive from the grand inquisitor either. Maybe today they’ll get into his failed marriage, or that time he got arrested for assault. Or, hell, he’d even be willing to answer questions about his emo phase freshman year in high school. It’s all on the table. Stark can hang out and badger him all damn day if he wants, just as long as he lets him touch the spectacular specimen before him. He rounds the corner of the counter, certain that his jaw is dragging on the floor – and not giving a damn – and he steps forward towards the absolutely cherry 1965 Shelby Cobra 427. Un-be-livable. This… this is…

“This is a million-dollar car,” Bucky stutters out, his fingers lingering hesitantly over the hood, too nervous to even let them graze the body.

“More like 1.8 million,” he corrects with a shrug. “Could use a tune up.”

“A tune up? Are you crazy? Listen, there are people,” he starts, halting suddenly when a loud thump – followed quickly by a high-pitched squeal of laughter – sounds from the office in back. His head spins so fast, his neck cracks with the movement. But he quickly settles upon seeing Steve pop up into view on the other side of the plate glass window only to shoot him a swift thumbs up. Bucky shakes his head distractedly and turns back to Tony. “There are people way better equipped to handle this than me.”

Tony issues out a short psh, waving a dismissive hand through the air as he impatiently shifts from foot to foot. “You’ll be fine. I have faith in you.”

“I don’t know why,” he says with a snort, sneaking another lingering, sidelong glance at the car. He clears his throat harshly and turns back to Tony. “Mr. Stark, I don’t know that this shop even has enough insurance coverage to allow me to work on this car.”

“I could’ve sworn I told you to call me Tony,” he says, beginning his all-too-common practice of milling about the garage, absently touching things, picking up tools only to immediately drop them back into place. “Anyway,” he mutters, holding up a torque wrench and glaring at it as though the tool had personally insulted him. He throws it back onto the counter with a huff and faces Bucky once again. “I thought you were the owner,” he hisses out, words full of pure incredulity. “You and…” he waves a hand back at the blond man still lurking in the office. “Mr. Perfect back there.”

A look of utter bewilderment rolls across his face. “Well, yeah… but…”

“But nothing. Half the reason I own so many businesses,” he pauses for a beat, pursing his lips and looking down at the dark green beauty in front of him, “and things, is because I like doing what I like doing.” His eyes ping back up to meet Bucky’s, holding them tight in a sincere stare. “What do you like, Bucky?”

Silence. He says nothing, merely stares blankly at the man before him.

Tony rolls his eyes. “You like fixing million-dollar cars?”

Bucky shrugs. “Never really done it. That’s kind of my point.”

His deep brown eyes narrow suspiciously, head cocking to the side just the slightest bit. Then he drops a firm hand to Bucky’s shoulder and chuckles. “Nah, you like it.” He tosses him the keys – a very clear end of conversation – and turns to leave, his unofficial driver waiting out front in the limo. “Anyway, it’s… sticking a bit,” he says, waving his hand carelessly through the air as he walks backwards toward the garage door. “Just… take a look. And… I want you to know, I’m trusting you with something very important here. Don’t screw it up.” And with that, he turns and leaves.

Bucky stands painfully still, wide-eyed stare directed out the door long after Tony’s already begun his retreat back to his side of the city.

“Is that…?”

He spins on a heel, finding Steve bent over the Cobra, delicately grazing his fingers atop the windshield in much the same way Bucky had cautiously – reverently – done just moments ago. “Yeah,” he answers, not needing to hear the rest of the question, those words lost in the same stunned fog he feels himself still wading through.

“This isn’t a replica,” Steve hisses out, eyes blowing wide as he tosses a glance Bucky’s way. He’s met with a slow headshake, a rather disbelieving confirmation. “This is… it’s original?” A simple, slow nod. “Semi-Competition? This…” He straightens, pulling his shoulders back as he stands upright, letting out a long, low whistle. “I know everybody says he’s… eccentric. But…” He raises a brow, wide, crooked smile rolling over his features. “He’s really gonna trust you with this?”

Bucky reaches up and scratches at the back of his head, a rather confounded expression creeping over his face. “Seems like.”

The two men continue to stand, silently staring at the little convertible in front of them. A masterpiece. A legend. The wet dream of any car enthusiast. It’s amazing. Glorious. Perfect. And…

“No!” Bucky shouts, the sudden bellow pulling deep from his chest as he lunges forward just in time to stop the tiny, sticky, chocolate-covered tornado racing towards the work of art. Steve hops back as Bucky grabs the little girl, narrowly avoiding a tiny foot to the groin, when he swings her round and hauls her up into his arms. He spins her in his grip so that she’s facing him – wide-eyed smile and fat cheeks alight as raucous giggles spill out of her – and he raises a serious, commanding brow. “Do. Not. Touch.”

He adjusts the tyke on his hip, settling her into the crook of his left arm as he pulls a cloth from his pocket and begins roughly wiping at the melted streaks of chocolate on her face. She wiggles in his grip and pushes against his chest with a whiny groan, leaning away to see the car that Uncle Steve is so fondly caressing. “Pretty,” she croons, spitting messily around the cloth as he continues to drag it across her chin and lips.

“No more long johns for breakfast,” he declares, shifting to try and juggle her wiggly form with the rag so he can get at her hands.

“What’s a donut without chocolate icing?” Steve asks lightly, finally stepping over to help. He plucks a clean rag from the countertop and finishes wiping her down. “You are a mess.”

Bucky gives her a little bounce and looks at Steve with an almost chiding glare. “Yeah, well, you are a shitty babysitter.”

“Says the guy who just cursed in front of a four year old,” he counters with a smug smirk.

Bucky’s face hardens and sets into a scowl. “I’m not a babysitter. I’m her father. Different standard.”

“Shitty!” the little girl sings out gleefully, following it up with a wide-eyed, “Uh-oh,” upon seeing Bucky’s stare, his single, reprimanding brow raised high.

He shifts her to his other side, pulling away from Steve and sidestepping him to move over to the front of the Cobra. The austere set to his features quickly fades as dark curls bounce in his periphery and small hands clamp together behind his neck.

“What d’ya say, baby? Should we pop the hood?” he croons to the little girl in his grip, giving her a few swift bounces until her face splits with delight. “Yeah,” he mutters, swiping his fingers lazily over the front end of the car. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with here.”

[pandemicthestory]

1: introduced

The love story of a teenage girl trapped inside during the end of the world. Daily chapters during the coronavirus pandemic. 

Neon orange nails tap at a laptop, chatting with someone across the internet. This manicure is fresh, except no one has left their house in weeks, so we know she did it herself. 

ADMIN_E: just sent your essay back. Gonna be 300 bc of the works cited 

GUEST48: oh come on 

ADMIN_E: i need the money, and you have more money than you need

GUEST48: ugh pls just tell me this is gonna get me an A in AP US history, i need this grade to get into duke 

ADMIN_E: lol, you’re actually worried about getting into college?

GUEST48: uh yeah, aren’t u?

ADMIN_E: Sweetie the world is ending. Who the fuck cares

*buzz* 

She looks away from the computer and down at her cracked iPhone 7. Another thing she’d like the cash to upgrade. The bigger issue: it’s basically impossible to scam in peace with her group chat constantly blowing up. But what are your best friends for, if not to provide human contact during an infinite quarantine? 

Madison is a self-proclaimed burnout, who used to be the carefree athletic type until a soccer injury sent her spiraling into an emo-grunge moment. Zoe is probably going to run for president and also be a doctor at the same time, unless her weird senior boyfriend convinces her to leave on a weed farm (which he would totally do, wow Gabriel sucks). And Olivia is sort of the one who keeps everyone together, obsessed with being a friend. She’s the one who religiously decorates your locker on your birthday even if you insist that it’s not necessary and that actually you’d prefer if she didn’t because it’s embarrassing. That’s Olivia.

MADISON: holy shit did u hear 

OLIVIA: I was just about to text you guys. My mom just told me. R u ok?? 

ZOE: wait what’s going on?? wtf tell me rn !! 

*knock knock*

The bedroom door opens without waiting for an answer.

“Emma?”

Emma Bradford, a skinny 16-year-old wearing an oversized hoodie and boxers, slams her laptop shut with way too much force. Hopefully it isn’t broken, she’d have to find a different way to cheat the school system for money. 

“Mom, what happened to our deal? If we’re going to be stuck at home together, you have to pretend I’m AT school. As in don’t speak to me before 3:25 PM.”

“You can’t say I didn’t knock. I knocked.” 

“It’s not about knocking, it’s about--wait why are we even having a conversation? See you at dinner. Or not. Just go please.” 

Emma jams in her air pods and pulls up her hoodie over her head so you can’t see the top of her face. She’s used to hiding her identity, and even in quarantine, old habits die hard or whatever.

Mom sighs, she doesn’t want to be here either. Out of all her kids, Emma is the truly difficult one. The smart one who uses her brain for all the wrong reasons. And wow those nails are intense. Traffic cones. Kids these days. 

“I just came to tell you that...well we just got a phone call from the school district. It looks like classes are going to be canceled for the rest of the year. Zoom classes too. Everything. I’m sorry.”

Emma’s stomach drops. Canceled? Like, wait, canceled? Canceled. But...how will she earn hundreds of dollars doing writing assignments for her fellow dumbasses?

“Seriously? How is that possible?! Don’t I need like, an education and shit?”

“Government spending is affecting everyone in strange ways right now. And wait a second, I thought you’d be happy. You always tell me how much you hate high school.”

Mom raises an eyebrow. Emma hates that. If her mom starts digging around in her personal life again, she’s going to find some weird shit. Not just forged essays, but, well, let’s just leave that all buried for now. 

“I do hate school. And I don’t care if I never go back. But I do need some boundaries, so please get out.”

Her Mom closes the door. We can’t see, but that eyebrow is definitely still raised. Something’s up with Emma. Her mom just has no idea of what it is, or how big it’s about to get.

Emma examines the group chat, having missed over 80 texts since she last checked it five minutes ago. 

EMMA: i don’t have time to read all that but, school, right?

ZOE: How can this happen? I already have a prom dress and it was final sale!!

MADISON: u don’t HAVE to go to prom this year zo- when gabriel goes to school next year u guys will prob break up anyway and then you’ll be free to go to like 10 more proms w guys who haven’t been arrested

ZOE: He was not actually arrested and we are doing long distance we already discussed it! 

MADISON: you don’t think they’ll cancel prom do you? if i have to do prom over zoom i’m legit done 

EMMA: So, prom is what you’re all worried about?

A brief pause. 

OLIVIA: Well what are you worried about Em? Or aren’t you

EMMA: Oh well idk. I mean i’m not that worried

EMMA: I just mean like it could be worse

As soon as Emma sends this, she doesn’t know if she actually believes it. She doesn’t know what’s coming. 

ZOE: Sure, I guess...

MADISON: UR BEING RLY WEIRD EM 

EMMA: Ah you’re right sorry, it’s just a weird time. I love u guys btw 

Everyone sends their signature heart emoji. Zoe: pink with sparkles. Olivia: yellow. Madison: small red with red dot underneath. And Emma sends the black heart, because she really needs to start acting like her normal self as people are getting suspicious. Her best friends know almost everything about her. Almost. They don’t know about what she’s doing on the side, or what she plans to do with the money. 

Emma takes a deep breath and reopens the laptop. No school is going to be a problem. No school, no assignments, no college applications, which means: no income. And no income means no leaving...no running off with...him. 

Him, the eternal problem. Him who won’t get out of her head no matter how much she curses the day he was born. Him from that other school that’s annoyingly far yet still too close for her own good. Him who knows her favorite candle scent. Him who rests his hand in the space between her hip bone and her belly button. Him who lied. Him who was forgiven. 

Him. 

She stares at the interface of her ghostwriter page on the screen. This was good while it lasted. She’ll just need a new plan to get to Him. 

Emma is about to shut the computer when: 

*Ping* 

New Assignment.

What? Every student at Harrison Ford High School got the same announcement today that she did. School’s canceled. No more class, no more losing sleep over getting into Duke. What a random life goal. 

Seriously, what the hell could this be?

Emma clicks the link to open the new assignment, to learn that it isn’t a new assignment at all. It’s a drawing?  

Circular lines, deflated shapes encircling each other. Like oil in water. The picture could almost be, well it looks somewhat like...a map. Holy shit, this is a map.

The lines of the map are messy and hand drawn. As if someone made this in a rush. Or maybe they were confused about where the path leads. But underneath the twists and turns, there’s a note: 

before you run away, come find me

[thelastspeecher]

Spy AU - Toxin, Finale

I got an ask earlier today that was about the situation in the Spy AU where Ford gets de-aged temporarily to three years old.  And it reminded me that even though I’ve discussed how that situation gets resolved, I never actually wrote it.  So, here it is.  Enjoy, for once, some legit fluff in the Spy AU.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

              The phone rang.  Stan began to get up from the couch.  Angie gently pushed him back with one hand.

              “No, darlin’, let me,” she said firmly.  Stan didn’t protest, instead sinking into the cushions silently, his eyes reddened from crying.  The both of them were struggling with the news that HQ had been unable to find a cure for Ford’s de-aging, and as such, he would be forced to grow up again.  Though it didn’t make Angie happy in the slightest, Stan was much more greatly affected than her.  She was more than willing to take on a few tasks to make things easier on her husband.  Angie headed over to the phone and answered it.  “McGucket-Pines residence.”

              “Angie, you didn’t get anything started with preparin’ fer Ford, did ya?” her mother asked over the phone.  Angie blinked.

              “Uh, no, not yet.  Why?”

              “Don’t.”

              “Why not?”

              “You don’t need to.”

              “We don’t-”  Angie covered her mouth.  “Ma, is-”

              “Like the toxin, the cure had a delayed reaction.”

              “What?  Really?”

              “Yep.  Now, he ain’t quite back to himself yet, but he’s definitely better.”

              “Is he awake?”

              “Yep.”

              “Lucid?”

              “That, too.  We’ve debriefed him on what seems to have happened, and he wants to come back to stay with you two while he returns to himself.”

              “Is that the wisest idea?  I mean, Kate-”

              “She signed off on it, don’t worry.  Look, just grab Stan and come over.  We’ll debrief the both of ya as well once ya get here.”

              “Got it.”  Angie hung up the phone.  She turned around.  Stan’s head was in his hands, his shoulders shaking with sobs.  Angie sat next to him and rested her hand on his back.  “My love, that was Ma.”

              “And?”  Stan’s voice was thick with tears.

              “It worked.”  Stan’s head jerked up.  “Apparently, it’s delayed, but he’s already better.”

              “He’s-”  Stan swallowed.  “Ford’s gonna be okay?”  Angie nodded. “Oh, thank god.”  Stan slumped against the back of the couch.  “That’s- that’s the best thing I’ve heard since this bullshit started.”

              “Yes, well, apparently he wants to stay here while he recovers, and Ma wants to debrief us more thoroughly at HQ, so…”  Angie wiped Stan’s cheek with her sleeve.  “Collect yourself a bit and we’ll leave.”

----- 

              Angie and Stan followed Ma McGucket into medical wing, where Ford had been housed in for the last week or so, after his condition had deteriorated to the point that he needed around-the-clock surveillance by the team working on his case.  Ford’s specific room was one of the private ones in the back of the wing.  The door was closed when they arrived.  Stan frowned.

              “Where’d the sign go?” he asked.  After Ford had moved in, one of the people on his team had made a sign for his room at his request, with Ford’s name on it and an option for Ford to indicate whether he wanted visitors or not.  Stan and Angie had become used to the colorful sign during their daily visits to check up on Ford.  The undecorated door seemed almost ominous.

              “Ford took it down himself when he packed his things up,” Ma McGucket answered. “Don’t worry.”  She knocked on the door.  “Stanford, Stan and Angie are here.”  The door opened.  Peering up at them through thick brown curls was a young boy approximately six or seven years old.  Stan dropped to one knee to get a closer look.

              “Ford?” Stan asked quietly.  The boy nodded.  A broad smile broke across Stan’s face.  “You look a bit older now.”

              “Yes,” Ford said proudly.  “I’ve been told my age will double every day until I return to my proper self.”

              “Not exactly,” Fiddleford said, walking over.  Stan saw Ford abruptly blush, then duck his head to hide his red face.

              If Ford remembers how he followed Fiddlesticks everywhere, can’t blame him for feeling embarrassed.

              “Yer age has doubled once, and we expect it to double again,” Fiddleford continued, either not noticing or pretending not to see Ford’s behavior.  “Once you turn twelve, you’ll have another boost, to about fourteen or fifteen.  But yer agin’ will slow down then, prob’ly due to puberty-”  Ford’s face turned an even deeper shade of red.  “-so you’ll only age ‘bout a year a day.  Once you hit eighteen, you’ll have two more multiple year jumps to get to yer original age.”

              “So how many days is Ford gonna be re-aging?” Stan asked.  Fiddleford shrugged.

              “About a week or so.”

              “Should we be concerned about emotional and mental re-aging keepin’ up with physical re-aging?” Angie asked.

              “We’ll have a better idea of that once he hits twelve tomorrow, but right now, it doesn’t seem like that’ll be a problem.”  Fiddleford handed Angie a piece of paper.  “Some instructions from Kate, fer how to accommodate his re-aging. As well as what to do if his emotional and mental maturity seem to be lagging.”  Angie nodded.  One of the doctors assigned to Ford’s case, Jen, joined them.  She crouched down to Ford’s eye-height.

              “We’re gonna miss you around the wing, Ford,” she said cheerfully.  “You were a ray of sunshine for us.  But we’re happy you’ll be back to yourself soon.” Ford embraced her.  “Aw, thanks.”  Jen stood up and handed Angie another piece of paper.  “Kate’s instructions were psychological, these are physiological. Ford’s gonna struggle a bit, since each age has its own ups and downs.  Be sure to follow these to ease the growing pains as much as possible. Particularly once he hits the teenage years.”

              “Understood,” Angie said.

              “To make things easier, we already bought all the clothes Ford will need as he re-ages.  They’re in his bag with his other items,” Jen continued.  “Keep us updated.”

              “You got it,” Stan said, standing to his full height again.  “Don’t worry, Ford’s gonna be in great hands.”

              “I know.”  Jen playfully ruffled Ford’s hair before walking away.  Ford looked up at Stan eagerly.

              “I’m big enough that I don’t need to use the car seat anymore!” he bragged. “Mrs. McGucket told me so!”

              “That’s great.  Great enough that I think we need to stop for ice cream on the way home,” Stan said. He looked at Angie.  “Don’t you agree, Ang?”  Angie rolled her eyes.

              “I think the stop we really need to take on the way home is a haircut fer Ford, but yes, we can get ice cream.”

              “Hooray!” Ford cheered.  Stan beamed again.  “Race you to the car!”  Ford immediately took off.

              “Wh- hey!”  Stan chased after him.  Angie chuckled softly.

              “I’m so happy things worked out,” she said to her mother.  Ma McGucket nodded.

              “I agree.”  Ma McGucket eyed Fiddleford.  “Fidds, please keep Ford’s behavior when he was three a secret from him fer a while, will ya?  I think he might die of embarrassment durin’ the teenage days if he finds out he followed ya ‘round like a lil duckling 24/7.”

----- 

              “So the haircut we gave you yesterday was pointless, huh?” Stan asked. Ford glared at him.  After being a cheerful, hyperactive twelve-year-old the day before, he had woken up that day as a sulky teenager.  Stan didn’t remember Ford being this grumpy when they were teens the first time, but he figured the re-aging process was enough to put anyone in a bad mood.  Ford poked at his breakfast, a bowl of cereal.

              “My hair seems to be growing at a rapid pace to match the rest of my body,” Ford muttered darkly.  He blew a strand of hair out of his face.  “I look like one of those emo teens.”

              “Only if you dye your hair black,” Stan said.  He took a sip of his coffee.  “I wonder if either of the girls will go through a phase like that.”

              “Youch!” Ford yelped.  Someone had pulled his hair.  “What-” Ford turned in his seat.  Angie stood behind him, a brush in one hand, a clump of his hair in the other, and multiple hair ties wrapped around her wrist. “Angie-”

              “Do you know how to put hair into a ponytail?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.  Ford was silent.  “Let me do my work.”

              “You could’ve asked,” Ford grumbled, turning back to his breakfast.

              “I already did.  You groaned ‘fine’ and then stormed away ‘fore I could even grab a hair tie.”  Angie gathered the entirety of Ford’s hair in one hand and began to brush it.  Ford let out a few more small yelps.  “I told ya to use conditioner.”

              “I’ve never used conditioner in my life.”

              “When ya have long hair, it’s a necessity,” Angie said firmly.  She finished putting Ford’s hair into a ponytail.  “There.”

              “That hurt…so much,” Ford moaned.  He slammed his head on the table, jostling his cereal bowl and causing a few stray marshmallows to dive over the sides.  “I don’t ever want to go through that again.”

              “Okay, drama queen,” Stan said calmly, setting his newspaper down.  “Do you want us to cut it again?”

              “No.  The haircut you two gave me yesterday was dreadful.  I don’t want to look like that.”

              “It’s either long, loose hair or a ponytail, then.”

              “Ugh!”

              “How about I do your hair tomorrow?” Stan suggested.  Ford raised his head just enough to frown at Stan.

              “Why would I ask you to do my hair?”

              “‘Cause I do Danny and Daisy’s hair,” Stan said with a shrug.  “Never got a complaint from them about it hurting.” Ford let out a long, dramatic sigh.

              “I suppose.”  He rested his head on the table again.  “Everything sucks and I hate it.”

              “Sounds good,” Stan replied, picking up his newspaper and turning it to the sports section.

----- 

              “Stan, quick question.”  Stan turned off the TV and looked over at Angie, standing in the entryway to the living room.  “What was Ford like as a teenager the first time?”

              “Uh, kinda quiet and nerdy.  Basically the same as he was as a kid and adult.  Ford wasn’t really the kind of person to go through phases or whatever.”

              “So this is definitely new, then,” Angie said, crossing her arms.

              “What’s new?” Stan asked.

              “The loud music and the attitude and the sneaking out at night,” Angie said, gesturing towards the guest room, from which angsty music seemed to emanate day and night.

              “Wait, he snuck out?”

              “Last night.  Luckily, Fidds was makin’ a midnight run to the gas station fer emergency batteries.” Stan raised an eyebrow.  “I didn’t ask what for.  Could be a robot, could be a smoke detector-”

              “Could be somethin’ he wouldn’t want his little sister to know he owns,” Stan interjected.  Angie rolled her eyes.

              “Anyways, he saw Ford tryin’ to buy alcohol.”

              “What the fuck?”  Stan rubbed the back of his neck.  “That’s not something Ford ever did.  I did it when we were teens, but not him.”  Stan frowned. “We don’t have any of the fake IDs we use for work in the house, do we?”

              “No.”

              “How did he get his hands on a fake ID, then?”

              “He didn’t,” Angie replied shortly.  “He was tryin’ to buy alcohol without an ID.  His big plan was to just convince the person to let him buy it without showin’ a card.  Of course, the cashier wasn’t havin’ any of it.  Fidds showed up right before the cashier called the cops.”

              “Hang on, hang on.”  Stan held up his hands.  “Ford didn’t have any sort of ID, let alone a fake one?  Okay, that’s it.”  He got up from the couch.  “I’m gonna have a talk with him.”  Angie frowned at her husband.

              “That’s yer big concern?”

              “Well, yeah.  It’s just plain stupid.  Buying alcohol before you’re twenty-one isn’t that bad, but I’d hate for him to get caught.”

              “What if either of the girls pull the same stuff when they get to be teens?”

              “I’ll tell ‘em the same thing I’m about to tell Ford,” Stan said firmly.  “If you’re gonna break the law, be smart about it.”

              “In that case, hopefully they take after me and don’t cause any trouble,” Angie grumbled, looking away.  Stan chuckled and kissed her on the cheek.

              “That’s bullshit, babe.  You’ve always been a troublemaker.”

----- 

              “Wait, I did what?” Ford asked.

              “Took a page outta the ole Stan Pines Book of Teenage Rebellion,” Stan said jovially.  He flipped a steak on the grill.  Ford had returned to his proper age yesterday, but was having some issues with his coordination and mental processing speed.  Everyone at HQ was convinced Ford would be back to normal eventually.  He just needed some more time off.  Ideally, with someone around in case he got lost or injured himself due to his new clumsiness.

              “Geez.”  Ford rubbed the back of his neck.  “Why would I do that?”

              “Beats me.”  Stan grinned at Ford.  “But I kinda liked having a practice run in taking care of a teenager.  I’m gonna have to deal with two at once, after all. Maybe even more, depending on how soon Angie and I get to work on our next gremlin.”

              “You want another child?”

              “Yeah.”  Stan frowned at Ford.  “I know I told you that while you were stuck.”

              “Yes, well, my memory of that time is hazy at best.  Hopefully, I’ll be able to recall it at some point.”

              “Uh, I dunno if you really want to.”

              “…Fair point,” Ford conceded.  The door leading to the backyard burst open, slamming against the wall.

              “Uncle Ford!” Danny and Daisy shrieked, bolting to where Ford sat on the patio.  Ford chuckled.  He ruffled his nieces’ hair.

              “Hello, my dears.”

              “You weren’t at our birthday,” Danny said quietly.  Ford nodded.

              “You’re right.  I wasn’t. I’m very sorry.  Did your mother tell you what happened?”

              “You got sick,” Daisy said.  Ford nodded again.

              “Yes.  Extremely sick.  That’s why you had to stay at your grandparents’.  Your mother and father were helping me get better, but they didn’t want you to be exposed to my germs and get sick, too.”  Ford playfully poked at Daisy’s nose on the word ‘you’. Daisy giggled.

              “All better now?” Danny asked.

              “Mostly.  I’m not sick anymore, but I’m still not fully recovered, so I’ll be staying here until then. If that’s all right with you.”

              “Duh!” Daisy shouted.  Ford laughed.

              “I have presents for you two somewhere, actually,” he said.  He started to get up.

              “No, let me,” Angie said.  Ford looked over.  In the ruckus of his nieces’ arrival, he hadn’t noticed Angie exiting the house as well. She stood by the door, smiling fondly at him and her daughters.  “I know exactly where Stan put ‘em.”  She opened the door.  A blur of dark gray and black ran outside.  “Apple-” she started.

              “It’s fine, I’ll handle it,” Stan said.  Angie nodded once before heading back inside.  Apple ran over to Ford, cocked his head, and then whined loudly. Ford smiled and patted the dog. Danny and Daisy stared at him in shock.

              “Apple���likes you now?” Daisy asked.

              “It appears so,” Ford replied, deciding to keep to himself the many hours he had spent with Apple while he was de-aged, one of the few things he remembered clearly.  Danny turned to Stan.

              “Daddy, Apple likes Uncle Ford!” she shouted.  Stan looked over.

              “Yep.”

              “Did Apple help Uncle Ford get better?”

              “Eh.  Only partly. Mostly, it was magic.”  Stan wiggled his fingers in an exaggerated manner. Danny scoffed.

              “No.”

              “It wasn’t magic,” Ford agreed.  “It was medicine.  Which isn’t magic, but rather, a form of science.”  Daisy climbed into his lap.

              “Tell!”

              “My dear, I don’t have a medical degree,” Ford said, stroking her hair.

              “Fine.  Tell dif’rent science.”

              “Different science?”

              “Yeah!” Danny cheered.  Ford smiled.

              “Very well.  I’ll do just that.”  He cleared his throat.  “Long ago, there was a brilliant man named Nikola Tesla.”

[novahawk9]

Rumors about IX

So theirs a thing reported by “Making Star Wars” that Harrison Ford will appear in IX, but not as a force ghost, or alive, just as a vision. Which, if you ask me is just plain awful, and makes no sense. There was some speculated nonsense about not-force-ghost-but-not-alive Han Solo talking about it’s “not too late” and blah blah blah edge-lord-redemption-bathna-poodoo. 

I don’t know how the ideas and rules of this franchise could be any more broken.

Like it’ll be one thing is this is just a cover for bringing him back. They’d need to have a story to cover him being on set. But that is simultaneously nearly impossible, and just not worth hoping for anymore.

Even using a vision of the past is lame. The novelization of TLJ proves that. It’d be one thing if they made him a force ghost, or Luke was able to bring him back to visit. 

(((Side note: I would be okay with that. That would be funny. Luke could bring his brother-in-law back from “the force”, so they can both see his sister. But none of them have any privacy anymore. Because Luke has to literally carry Han’s spirit through the force. D@#% plot bunnies...)))

A vision doesn’t make any sense. If Han’s dead, KyLe doesn’t get Han’s forgiveness, because Han is dead.

THAT’S JUST A FACT. THAT IS HOW THIS FICTIONAL UNIVERSE WORKS. Leia didn’t get to say goodbye to Alderaan and her parents. Luke didn’t get to say goodbye to Owen and Beru, or Biggs.

But they’ll invent an exception for the emo-neo-nazi-edge-lord that breaks all the rules of the saga. A saga that was a long time ago, in a theater far far away, was actually good. It was once a well-planned story about Hope and Love surviving despite overwhelming grimdark depression.

Now, all they’ll give us is the Grimdark.

SCREW THAT BANTHA POODOO.

I mean, Han surviving would make all the sense in the world. It mirrors Luke’s realization that Anakin wasn’t dead which allowed for Vader’s redemption. Otherwise, Han’s death is LITERALLY NOTHING but poorly thought out SHOCKAHOLIC AUDIENCE TORTURE. Entirely. Devoid. Of meaning. Or purpose. 

If it was supposed to show that edge-lord was evil, then edge-lord gets to die, because he’s evil and this is star wars, and that’s just how we do things. Everyone dies, especially the evil dudes.

You don’t get to force us to watch a death that demonstrates a character is evil, and then give him an unearned redemption. Edge-lord is not capable of earning his own redemption.

That’s not subversive, it’s poodoo story telling.

Imagine instead a movie where Chewie and Lando go to save Han, Leia’s saving the galaxy off screen, and our heroes beat the crap out, and some sense into said edge-lord on their way to confront the evil emperor’s ‘shadow’.They save the whole galaxy. Poe, Rey, and Finn are big damn heroes, and edge-lord sees the light of day and sacrifices himself for the peace of mind of the audience. 

Those are the only circumstances under which said edge-lord’s death is not absolutely required. 

Still on the table, but not required.

*+SIGH+*

So, I’ve decided that I am head-cannoning it anyway. I still want to see it, just so I can put it behind me, and forget Disney pretended that it happened. But I’ll be waiting for spoilers, and I will only be seeing it once. In December I can put this nightmare behind me. 

But it’ll probably be some goofy timeline reset, so they can go back and reboot everything all over again in ten years.

God Disney, WHY?!?! 

[bloojayoolie]

Af, Anaconda, and Bad: The Globalist Takeover of the Internet Anonymous ID.C No.152700066 1210/173un)14.59.11 Long before fake news or Net Neutraity INN) became major media topics, the US, govemmant was aseady was just one move in bad, nght? Sure the intemet became a quasiuty, but it didnt really aflect you anything, you got a chanos to finally sick t to Comcast G Ask yourself shy NN eame out of nowhoe. Whry was it so haavily adwertisad? Who paid for the adwertising? And who benefited from i Now asl yourset what sequance ed up to N.N and who lod t to thare? Where did tha sequence imand to ond? Baieve it or not, the sequenoe already came to completion. On Obama's final month in oice, the intemet was quietly nationalized by egisaion he signed the day before Christmas Eve The preeident himeelf became legally capeable of taking down any website in the United States within minulia 01 cours hat was ruined by the election. This is a long plecs, and the beginning will cover some malerial that you already know but it is crucial to understand the bi U.S. House of Ropresentatives commissions the Roase Commitoo to inwessgae potental oommunist inuence of domesti NGO.nd ronprotts Head mostgalor, Norman Dodd pubashed ธาย fnal report n which hie decover the the Ford. moral utiviam" and No. 152780184 ๛ nismo Tniemationaliem to the end of oligarchio col ectviem in other words, globalism. His roport was silanced and the two- 1980 - Civil Sociaty Sactor The cvi society seclor is typicaly underslood to be comprised of NGOs and nonprotts that, according to conventional ofte son But r that was over true.彐isnt arymore, and hasn't been for deados. By 1980 ail of civil sooty had been taken over by pmate and stste moreets, operating aB pron35 for ther agendas Just 85 Norman Dodd had discovered the White House. Googlo Ideaswas hoavly involved in the Arab Spring, which was irstigated by social modia. VP of Stratfor sald they have a "oovert role in foaming up risings," and that thay are doing things the CIA cannot do Bl Clintons Teleconmunication Act of 1996 legaies the monopolization of the media, paving the way for a two-decade gobaist crusade to consolicabe dounens of medis autwis into just six. And just ie that, the globa bs need anly pluck sin strings to maka us dance to heir faise song Comcnt, Dianey, Wacom, Time Warmer, News Corp, Cas, and stl shinking Socal Meda D Anonymous IID·ITD g 12/1017(5un115:01:24 No. 152700281 -sor arteed ty a quote from a reddt If you happen to hawe a right-wing perspeotve, Google puts your search rosuts on the 10th paga, Youtube demoneizes your vinos ior romovos tem. Twtter bons your account, and rootook censors your posts they never show up in he 2010 The Iniemet The global sts, having soidifiod thir control over banks, oducation, cil socioty, mocia, and social meda, now tum thair Araady controling much of the intemats med a and all the social media platfoms hat propagato it, the only thing t for privateattias with minimal regulaton tom the govemmer. Separato and unrelated to that dassikation, tio FCC held Verizon ν. FOC dangedha, fuling that if tha FOC w斪lod toenforco Opatitanet Ries they need lo sodassity ISPs under Ttle as quasi-utlites striotly regulated as "common camiens", efectively a stane-loeneed monopoly. The most crncal factor here ts that under Tiso ll,เร¡'s need to apply for Broaastrg Lomm. uhch gno the government mmmm their politioians. Netfx alegedy manipulaied their own service to frame the I3Ps for throtting No. 152700355 mszrem The full eodent af the infuence s not yet known. It may be that the luut's outoome was sheer caincicence Regandless thià mas a hupa win for tha globalsts, becausa now thay ara ora stup coar to fareing I3Ps to apply for Broadcanting the ISPs go bankrupt. The govemment can leverage Remember this, because Broadcaeting Licenees become the globlit'smost valuable weapon in just orne act more of agisition Three dges presided over the caon, Lauranco H. Sibarman (appointed by Ronald Roagan) uth Ann Wilon Foopers (appointed bry Bil Cinton David S. Tael (appointed by The Cinion-appoiniee Demoorats ruled in fawor of the Tife II classiication nuing. The Reagan-appointee parialy dissented No surprise, Now the FCC is stuck between a rock and a uand place H thery want to entorce Open-Intemet they Broadoasting Lioense. The FCC is stumped and cant really figure out what to do next... .So Obama comes in to save the day He preessures them to move fonward with the Titie II dlasitcation and give the govemment sweeping authority over namat infrastruce This potantialy unpopui move is quickly nebranded with a cate name and solkd to the pubic as The' ptic ild hat hy ire saving t1m internet, But awing 1 from wham? Hahaha frtam tho wery penople who สาย ting revokedOpen Internet wrizon v. FCC, nepackaged it, and gave back to us in ล bortsl of red tape Now heeo's where he story picks up." and inning. Thay Nat Neutrary Ivokes Tile of the Telecommunications Act of 1896 to require all i5Ps and any oompany that provides Wel.. what if the FCC doeen't want to renew them? Ah but thafs orazy talk. the FCC cant just rewoke Broadcasting But imagine what happens when you're appointed by he president as chaiman of the FOC, and shortly after you get a call And that call you get bs from whatreer said globaist preeident rules your Smeline. And that globalist preeident telis you viclaing fodoral law I voled for Trump and just hang up. But then the ofice phones stant ringing and you got a ite nervous because now other government tode8 สาย caing n,w substartinng that yme, in tac, the ISP rwaff is breging ho Lw So you hang up, cali your urwyer, and ask hir, to look up aThe livs hey wirù taling about to see1PalSP sealy is violatrg hem Atar al what kind of law would justity such an abuse of power? None, in tact, that you know ot. The next thing that wll happen is your lawyer wll walk into your offce, lnoking paie as a ghost and hand you a legal dooument teled Countering Inlormaton Act of 2016 (8 2602. This is where everything comee Boads of saeat start to form on your forehead as you begin reading the Countering Information Wartare Act of 2018 13.20821 You put it down and look up at your lawer, realizing whty his face is drained of ite R was drained by the Countaring Inlormaion Warfare Act af 2018 (3 2802Yue about lo k him aquestion abot the Countering Informason arfare Act of 2016 (8.282), but you pauso, and another thought stkos you Why don't thery jut call it The InfoWars Act D Anonymous IID- Emo, 12/10.17(Sunl15:0329 No. 152780604๛ .. dsaman (79 KB, 58T 1083) your lawyer simply closes his eyes, as it wth erosc satistoton and ฒ¡ckly whispers under his breath-.94 Cinton is a rapist You look back at the IntolWars Act to nead its mission statement Thats so bizama, you think to yourse f. Usualy agoncios are croated indopendant trom other branches of cormuptng influences Why would you bother craating a raw independant aganey f yose arally going to house it in he Whita House? so ifs a cantor, of mutiplo agoncias. In the p 1300-T℡ head of the Canlar. . atal bo appaled by the Pesídnt answers directy to the President? Okay? Wht exacty is it going to do? Mirtain, colo, uso, and dsseriato roords tnsoasch and山1a analysis of forogn stato and fasstato propaganda wait what? Non-State popaganda? You maan lkarmy exening ship sta on TD? What ธาอ fck does that mean? Laratr everyone on the planet is not s韧te. And how exactly b5 popaganda dened? Hn hat's strange tees nodenton in hare. Live they delberately amted tso thay can just.. call t whatwver hey want, Increcible Anonymous 1D 12/1018un)15:04:13 No.1527806882152 You look up to your lawyer, "How the fuck did Obama gat this thsough Congress? Your lawyer drops ancth e on your dask. It locks wspiciously farrsbiar s titiod Naional Delanea Autholization Act t for Fiscal Year 2017 He wated unti Chrisimas Eve and hid t inice af the 3,000 page anual maitary buckget so nobody would notice it Ohhhh shit yeah this is that fuckin propaganda thing that Obama legalized I always see it get reposted on The Donald what a Kenyan pedophle thing to do, amirte? ารฉ youve aheady read thought Oh...yah no fam a simple gay just see a gey arow Jesus Chried The lawyer fips through the 3,076 pages af the NDAA to page 1,300 for 1,438 in pat format) SEC. 1287. GLOBAL This is so much more than just propaganda. Look at what thary'e going to be doing ldottyng ourentand emerging herds in eregn propaganda ฮ d denormation ncluding tne use of prit broadcast. organizasons, and those of oown or dandostno special operaors and agents ⑩ īrnenoe tarpoted popínoms and CENTER govemments in order to coondinate and shape the development of tacics, techniques, and proceduree to eapose and Anonymous ID enrD ㅁ 12017(Sunl15:04:55 No. 152760643 msmas Nol aven Tom Clanoay would wrtn something lke this. Eariar you caled this a aryan thing to do. But even Kanyars sacrot agernes to Yeah.. Muik Obama woukd never do The legislaton establishes a fund to help train local joumalists. But just whan&couch' get wor.. gets way fucking war Second, the legielation seelks to leverage expertise from outside govermment.. prowide grants and contracts to NGOs, Gv povommment.. Thay cal in their globa from some "Totaly neutral third-party" and logwther hery can call arryone a propagancist Thary oan go aftorltoraly anybody who's boan fagpod by a thind-party "tact-chocker" without having to tako tham to court. were there all along for a branding ปาอ cuia tann-fale fews" to gaterale a damand for tac eders. And than they satsfed the demand tathey croated They trained te ptic to accept the idea of "neutral寸 rd-parties" polong onl ne oortot. Facebook, Twiter. Anonymous (ID 1210/1Sun15 05:16 No. 1527606781 22015731 Its brillant, really. They control the tact-chedkers, the enforcens, and wih the passage of Tle , the nrastructure to usine hem Once a propagandist has been tangeted, the Preeident can use absolkely The Center will develop, integrate, and sychronize And thats it lsdies and gentlemen. Thats why passing Not all 13Ps to take down hostila infornation and any websiles that distibuto it. IH the ISP rofuses, their Titio II Broadcasting License bgly revoked, tey can no longer do busness.they go bankrupt, and the government buys out ther STORY TINE IS OVER THIS IS ACTUALLY REAL Are you imagining how real this is They can physically shut down your access to the intomet without a court order! Just because someone cal led you a propogndSf! Ju赋because you htpost on The Donald They an tak® down Drudge Report, Brettart The Donald. of yoars, iko thay aways do, so that nobody would notico unti Rs too latol They coukve takan us down one buy one, yoar by year, and qulety suppress And it was 100% legal. They passedovary law they feeded to dit YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW LUCKY WE ARE TO HAVE WON THE ELECTION BECAUSE THERE WOULD HAVE NEVER AND NOW ONE FINAL QUOTE 1446-"The Center shall terminate on the date that is 8 years affer the date of the enactment of this Act

[kingfallshistoricallibrary-blog]

Episode Sixteen: Santa Clause Ain’t Comin’ to Town

[podcast music]

[King Falls AM music]

B: You’re off the charts excited, Sammy. Are you sure this isn’t about Christmas vacation?

S: Not at all, I've just finally got something big to bring to the table spooky stuff wise, and I cannot wait-

B: You are glowing, man, I can’t wait to hear this.

S: Good evening, ladies and gents, and welcome to King Falls AM, that’s 660 on the AM dial. And this is our last show of the year, our last show before our big Christmas break, as Ben mentioned.

B: Lets not say big, it’s just a break, but we’ll be right back here literally on New Years Day. Thanks, Merv. But we’ve got a hell of a show for you.

S: Okay, can I just get a few minutes off the top to talk about today’s discovery?

B: I was literally just saying the floor is yours, Sammy.

S: Okay, alright, so you know sometimes I'm a little bit, uh, skeptical, when it comes to-

B: Literally everything, you are skeptical of every phenomenon that has crossed our paths.

S: I wouldn’t say every.

B: Oh, I would. Do you wanna recap? There was the alien abduction, the-

S: *laughing* No, no, no, I think you know your stuff, so, you should know that I'm very excited to bring my own bit of King Falls lore to the table tonight.

B: Before you press on, are you sure this is a good idea?

S: What do you mean?

B: I'm not trying to be, argumentative here, but the last time you brought in a find of your own like this, you brought Howard Ford Beauregard the Third into our lives.

S: That was a mistake, and we have talked about that.

B: I know, I'm just saying. Be super sure about this one, huh?

S: This is nothing like HFB3.

B: Then please continue, my friend.

S: So, I was out doing a little bit of shopping earlier today at the King Falls mall-

B: Was it crazy crowded? I still have to pick up something special for. My mom.

S: It was crowded, not Black Friday crowded, but nicely, darkly, opaque Tuesday, if you will.

B: Okay, cool.

S: We all know that gift is not for your mom, by the way.

B: Whatever.

S: So. I'm at the mall, I make my purchases, but I'm all worked up, I got an appetite, and I'm not gonna wait in line at the eatery with the Christmas people, you know? So I'm thinking, why not go the three minutes away to Frickard’s?

B: Traitor. But, I get it.

S: So I make the drive over to my favorite froggery, a number 5 fricassee with extra frog puppies-

B: You actually eat the frogs there, man? I heard they poach them directly from lake Hatchineha.

S: Don’t say that, they are a fine sponsor of the show.

B: Facts are facts.

S: Okay, so I get there and pulling up, right beside me, is this beautiful candy apple red corvette. It was a beauty, let me tell you, early 1960s, but the closer I look, the weirder it gets. It’s got bells, like sleigh bells, all over this thing-

B: Lets, uh, move on, Sammy.

S: So I look over at the driver, this bigger older gent steps out of the car, red suit, red tie, massive white beard.

B: Sammy, I think we should-

S: Tiny little glasses, rosy red cheeks, and the friendliest damn face I've ever seen. He introduced himself as Chris.

B: So you run into a mall Santa running late for work?

S: Oh, this was no mall Santa, Ben, this was the Santa. We made chit chat, and there was only one available table, so with it just being myself and him we took it-

B: You had lunch with a mall Santa.

S: Ben! He knew my name, without me saying it!

B: You’re a radio sensation, Sammy, lots of people know your name.

S: Do they know my childhood address? What I got for Christmas when I was six? I don’t think so.

B: Oh, jeez, you’ve got a Santa stalker, buddy. Either that, or Creepy Carl got released on bail. Moving forward-

S: He knew all this stuff, Ben. My wants, my likes, good things and bad things. Y'know I'm pretty protective of my personal life, Ben.

B: Yeah, I do, Shotgun.

S: This was Santa Claus, real as day, right here in King Falls. Not only that, but he told me that he actually vacations here part of the year! Think about that, the big guy hanging out here! Dude, why are you looking at me like this?

B: Do you know how many older gentleman in the world dress up as Santa Claus, Sammy? A lot. It’s a job for some folks. Some of them go to hospitals. It’s a big deal for some folks. This was one of those guys, just pulling your chain, Sammy. Santa living here part time is, *scoffs*, I doubt very, very seriously that this guy you met-

S: It was him. I don’t understand why you’re so hell bent on dismissing this. If a caller called in with this story, you’d be on a mission.

B: I'm not hell bent on dismissing you, I'm just looking at this from all angles, how about that?

S: Are you saying King Falls isn’t good enough for a Santa vacation home? A second house?

B: Not at all. That’s ludicrous….did he tell you I said that?

S: Ah ha! So you know I'm right.

B: No, Santa, I mean, mall dude Santas are tricky, I don’t trust them. Look at this wedge he’s driving, man.

S: You know something about this.

B: You want me to tell you what I know?

S: I do!

B: Here’s the scoop. I know you met some guy. I know he’s not Santa, because Santa would not go to Greg Frickard’s place to eat. I know-

S: You’re full of it.

B: You wanna put this to the callers? We can poll this thing out.

S: I think I do, Ben, this guy knew what I got for Christmas years ago. He knew about Wolfington the terrier, which I got for Christmas, as a kid, he knew it all.

B: Okay, King Falls, do you think Sammy met the real Santa Claus earlier today? Think about this, and give us a call. 424-279-3858.

S: You are on, buddy. I'm not gonna be the only person here-

B: Operation King Falls Kringle!

*banjo music*

Randy: Howdy y’all, it’s Randy Mcmullet from Mcmullet’s international palace of snake skin boots. And I'm  here to let you know we’ve got some rattlin’ news for you. After this sensational success of black mamba Friday, it’s time to roll out our next deal of the year. This weekend it’s our annual secret Santa albino snake skin special. We’ll have all our whitesnake choices at our unbeatable dark snake prices. So slither on down, just outside of town, at the corner of route 72 and Old Bombing Range Road. Mcmullet’s International Palace of Snake Skin Boots. Where we fill your boots, with savings.

[King Falls AM music]

S: What the hell was that about?

B: It’s about saving money on boots, man.

S: No, whatever you yelled, right before the commercial.

B: I don’t know what you’re talking about, I sneezed.

S: I'm watching you.

B: Watch away, Sammy. Pick a line they’re all lit up! Like Christmas!

S: You’re way too smug, I don’t like this. Lucky. Line. One.

B: An excellent choice.

S: Good evening, you’re on with Sammy and Ben.

Cynthia: First off, Sammy, obviously you’re off your rocker. Santa lives in the north pole!

S: Hi Cynthia.

C: Secondly, are you for real shopping at the King Falls mall? Do you have a death wish?

B: What are you on about, Mrs. Higgenbaum?

S: It honestly wasn’t that busy.

C: I'm not talking about crowds! I'm talking about the gang of vampires that live in the mall. Just waiting for the perfect time to strike.

B: What?

C: Of course you wouldn’t know, Ben.

B: I'm pretty up to date on my-

C: Obviously you are not, or you’d know about the gang of vampires that live in the mall.

S: Cynthia, thanks for calling tonight, even if you are dead wrong about Santa. Now, would you like to expand about this, uh, the-

C: Gang of vampires.

S: Right.

B: How do you know they’re vampires, Cynthia?

C: Pale much? Check. Dark clothes? Check. Never ever out in the light of day? Check!

Ben and Sammy overlapping: Talking about hot topic, aren’t you?

C: They just glare at you, soulessly, when you walk in! Eyeing you up and down, probably looking for a good vein.

S: Or a neck tattoo.

C: This is not to be made light of, Sammy, you’ll see.

B: They’re just goth kids, Mrs. Higgenbaum.

C: Oh please! Like you know! Let the record state that when King Falls is overran in a lost boys type fashion by these emo vampires, that I tried to warn you. And you just laughed!

S: What do you recommend, Cynthia, should we stock up on garlic and stakes?

B: I think just knowing our parents loved us enough should do the trick.

C: Laugh it up, you dumbs. You know I hate telling I told you so, but I will tell your ass I told you so so fast! Merry Christmas!

*hang up noise*

B: So, we’ll count that as a no. Oh and one, Sammy.

S: Line five, welcome to King Falls AM.

Finn: Hey Sammy, hey Ben!

S: Hey Finn, long time no talk buddy! You doing alright?

F: Oh yeah, never better. Just had to get a couple of shots, y’know?

B: That’s good to hear, Finn. What’s your take on this?

F: Oh, I was actually just phoning ‘cause I wanted to tell you fellas Merry Christmas before it was too late.

B: Merry Christmas to you too, Finn. Stay safe out there on the roads.

F: You know it.

S: Thanks for calling in, Finn, and y’know we’re glad that you’re feeling better. We were pretty worried about you.

F: Aww, you fellas! Howl at the moon one little time and you guys get all worried.

S: It was more than once, Finn.

F: You know what I'm saying. It’s not like I'm going to sleep and waking up naked in a field somewhere with chicken feathers and god knows what all over me...on the regular.

S: That...is...uh. Good to hear, Finn.

F: Just every now and then, y’know?

B: Okay. You, you take care of yourself. Happy holidays.

F: You know it!

*hang up noise*

B: That was another-

S: Don’t count that. Finn didn’t comment on it either way.

B: I’ll mark it as “Switzerland”. Another call?

S: You bet your ass another call. You pick a line.

B: Uhhh, line three, good evening and welcome to-

Hershel Baumgardner: You goofy sons of b**** hung up on me last time I called! When I get my dick beaters on you, there’ll be hell to pay!

B: Uh, we must have been having phone difficulties, Hershel, we would never...did you call during the electrolocaust?

HB: I called two damn weeks ago Ben Arnold, don’t you electric holocaust me. You gotta wake up pretty damn early in the morning to scoot one past Hershel F. Baumgardner.

S: Hershel, we are so sorry the phones were malfunctioning last time you called. Are you on tonight to talk about Santa's appearance and possible living in King Falls?

HB: Santa who? Santa Livingston? I haven’t heard from that son of a b*** since the beaches of Normandy.

S: Santa Claus, Hershel.

Hb: No! I ain't here to talk about no Santy Claus. You two need to grow the f**** up.

B: What’s on your mind, Hershel?

HB: Don’t rush me, you two toned pecker sniff. I’ll get to it when I get to it.

S: Hershel, do you think-

HB: Motherf****. I had it before you opened your damn trap. I’ll ring you later when I can think of it, and you better not hang up on me again.

S: You do that, Hershel, if we don’t hear back from you before then, have a Merry Christmas.

HB: You two going somewheres?

B: It’s our Christmas break, but we’ll be back live on New Year’s Day.

HB: You know what my generation called breaks?

S: They weren’t just breaks?

HB: We called it being f***ing dead, ‘cause that’s the only break you get in life, you free loadin’ radio commies. Enjoy your break, and vacay or whatever you pansy bastards call it.

B: Happy holidays to you too, Hershel.

HB: I didn’t kill Hitler to say happy f***ing holidays…*trails off, mumbling*

*hang up noise*

S: Ladies and gentleman, Ben and I are talking about the appearance of Santa here in King Falls earlier today. I was told from the jolly one himself that he enjoys staying in the Falls quite a bit when he isn’t in the busy season. Ben says otherwise.

B: Have you or anyone you know ran into this phoney Santa saying he’s squating here? If you have, give us as call *cough*OperationKingFallsKringle*cough*

S: I knew you were up to something!

B: Please, you’re paranoid because you’re losing. Line two, this is King Falls AM.

Troy: Hey fellas, Merry Christmas! Or Happy Hanukkah, if that’s the way your dreidel spins, or have a good Kwanzaa, etc and so on.

S: Merry Christmas, Troy.

B: Are you not supposed to call us on duty?

T: I'm on break, Ben, dammit all. Don’t start. I'm calling to tell you something important.

B: This again? You’re a broken record. Bye, Troy.

S: Don’t. Let him speak.

B: *scoffs* Whatever.

T: Thanks, Sammy. And right off the bat, I wanna tell you I believe you saw what you say you saw.

B: Troy! Come on! You know the drill!

T: I'm not saying he was or he wasn’t. I'm just saying if you saw him, I believe you. Maybe a man just wants to lay low, far away from the spotlight. I mean, King Falls is a heck of a town to retire to.

S: Mark that down, Ben.

B: He’s only saying it just to spite me.

T: That ain’t close to true, and you know it Ben Arnold. Now if you’ll permit me, I've got a gift for you.

B: If this is your friendship, I hope you kept the receipt.

T: It’s actually not that. Though it’s ripe for the picking whenever you want it, Ben.

B: Don’t hold your breath.

S: Come on. Do you wanna bring it by the station Troy?

B: Don’t.

T: Well, the problem is that I bought it online and I'm, I'm having it shipped here, and well...seems it's going to be a little late.

B: Of course it is. You can’t even get a Christmas present right, try. Just give it up.

T: We were best buds growing up. I ain't giving up on that. Or you. I mean, you’ll see. You and me we’ll be back where we started just as sure you can say pickled pied piper.

B: Next caller.

T: That’ll work too. Well, I’ll quit yacking and make like a shepherd and get the flock out of here.

S: Take care, Troy. Merry Christmas to you and yours, buddy.

B: Bye already.

T: Catch you later, future buddy.

*hang up noise*

B: We have time for one or two more before break, you wanna keep going or give it up?

S: By my count, we’re tied.

B: Glutton for punishment. Call it.

S: I'm gonna go back to lucky line one. Happy holidays, you’re on King Falls AM.

??: Hey man, I wanna talk about this Kris Kringle business.

S: We’re all ears, sir. Have you seen him around town, or am I just being fooled by a facetious Saint Nick?

??: The way I see it, uh-

B: Hey, who are we speaking with?

??: That don’t matter none.

B: Right. Uh, what were you saying, sir?

??: I just think that a man wants to lie low in a place where he’s not gonna get bothered, or pestered, or recognized, then good for him. Maybe life got too stressful, or he didn’t wanna buy a caddy for everyone he met. Hell, maybe he followed the love of his life to this small podunk crazy haunted town. Maybe it’s because he found out that Rose makes the best peanut butter banana sandwich you ever laid eyes on.

S: Are we still talking about Santa Claus, sir?

??: Of course.

S: Okay. It just seemed like maybe we were talking about somebody else for a second. Like yourself.

??: Don’t be cruel, Sammy. I'm just a teddy bear. A teddy bear with nothing to hide. I say if old Saint Nick wants to hang out in this spooky place then so be it. We can’t have *singing* suspicious minds *back to normal voice* about it. Just let it be.

B: Sir, I, I don’t wanna make this about you, but you sound a lot like the king of rock, and, I-

??: Yeah, little less conversation, Ben.

*hang up noise*

S: I'm just gonna say that I think that guy knows what he’s talking about, Ben.

B: Still doesn’t mean anything.

S: Why are you fighting me so hard on this, Ben?

B: Okay, I'm not saying you’re right-

S: But I'm right.

B: But, but! If somebody as important as Santa Claus were to have a vacation home or hide away spot in King Falls, and he doesn’t!

S: And he does.

B: But...maybe it’s for a reason. Like a specific reason. Like, maybe he doesn’t wanna be bothered with a bag of mail every day. An email address overflowing with wants and needs. Non-union worker issues. Maybe the wife wants a place to escape the hustle and bustle of the great white north a few times a year without TMZ knocking on the door. If that were the case, and I, I don’t think it would be fair to call attention to it.

S: If that were the case.

B: Right. If that were the case. Now, I do not think that’s the case at all, I mean this is a case of mistaken identity. Or maybe you were tricked by a chubby, merrier than thou prankster who is just too friendly to not keep the appearances. But. I don’t think you really saw the real deal here. And he certainly wouldn’t live in King Falls for a few weeks every year if you did see him.

S: Huh. Maybe...maybe I was mistaken?

B: It could have been anybody.

S: I think you’re onto something, Ben. I think I was, uh. Huh. I think was misled.

B: Maybe so.

S: Oh, well. Okay then.

B: We good?

S: Yeah, I think we’re good. Uh. So I hear we got a hell of a show lined up for tonight, is that right?

B: Ha! Better believe it, buddy. Right after the break,- *ho, ho, ho!*

S: Sorry about that folks, somebody must owe Chet some money. Ladies and gentlemen, thanks for hanging out with us on this chilly winter’s night. We’re just getting started here, but we’re gonna take a quick break to pay some bills. If we don’t hear from you before then, Merry Christmas to you and yours from King Falls AM.

??: Merry Christmas!

[brisfanfictions]

A Bleeding Rose - Shadley

I'm the third oldest hedgehog in the Rose family. Ramvelle is 19 years old and he is my oldest brother. Quincy is 18 years old and he is my second brother. I've only got 2 brother.

Next in line is me. I'm 17 years old and is the oldest of triplets. Amelia is second and Amy is last. We have similar interests... Okay, not always. But, me and Amelia are always close. Amy will be close, but not as close as Amelia and I. Amanda is our youngest sister and the last in line of the Rose family. She's 14 years old. She has redish-green eyes.

My name is... Ashley Rose. I wear red, black, & lavender. People say I'm emo, but emo people only wear black & red. I keep guns and things hidden in my heels or my black leather jacket. My quills cascade down my back. I rarely cut it as short as Amy's. Keeping my long hair helps other people, besides my family, can tell us apart.

Our eyes are the easiest to tell us apart. My eyes are like a ruby red. Amelia's is icy-blue. Amy's is a jade green.

I own a mansion off Emerald Coast and the Forest of Life. It has 6 master bedrooms and 6 guest bedrooms. It has a library, bowling ally, indoor/outdoor pool and hot tubs, rec room, music room, art room, a gun vault (only Amelia and I know the passcode to), and a 12 car garage.

My baby is a black-and-lavender Chevy Camaro ZL1. Amy's car is a blue-and-pink Toyota Prius C. Amelia's car is a red Ford Focus ST. Ramvelle's car is a gold Mitsubishi Evo XI (11). Quincy's car is a silver Dodge Dart.

I love this black-and-red hedgehog. He is SO cute and is such a badass... But, I don't think he likes me.

Ever since I was 12, he gave me the cold shoulder and swore in my face. He always got angry at me and I never know what I did WRONG! Anyways, I'm going to take a walk. Not on the beach, but in the forest. I always found it soothing for me...

And, no I'm NOT taking my car!

I'm in my favorite sleepwear, a lavender night-gown, before I left my mansion.

I was hiding in a tree in the Forest of Life. Well... Really, I was taking a nap. But, after the moon rose, I woke up.

Right now, I'm watching the night sky. The full moon is showing the clearing that I'm near. The stars are lite up the night sky. It's very beautiful... But, only a certain hedgehog can really turn this night sky even more beautiful.

My mind wanders to the hedgehog who makes me smile... Her name is Ashley Rose. She means EVERYTHING to me. She's always been the love of my life... Although, I'll NEVER admit that to ANYONE.

The reason why I love her is because she reminds me of Maria Robotnik. Who died on the ark to save me.

Ashley always makes these gifts on holidays. Valentines' Day is my FAVORITE holiday though. She always makes teddy bears with hearts on them for me. They always say something different every year.

I was pulled out of my thoughts, when I heard rustling of the bushes under the tree I'm in.

Ugh! I hate bushes, trees, and other nature-y stuff. But, I'm in my favorite clearing. The exact clearing where I have the inspiration to make the gifts for Shadow.

There's a stump in the middle of the clearing with flowers around it.

I move toward the stump and sit down on it. It's February 13th. Tomorrow is Valentines' Day and I can't wait!

I was too busy unloading stuff to notice a rustle in the bushes behind me.

I was watching the whole scene unfold. Eggman appeared in the bushes behind Ashley, but only I can see him.

Eggman is holding a gun in his hand and is aiming at Ashley's head.

Ashley is just humming a sweet, lovely tune. She doesn't see Eggman at all.

I'm just humming a sweet song to myself and making Shadow's Valentines' Day gift.

My song stops short when I hear the click of a gun. I turn around quickly and see Eggman holding a gun to my head. I quickly whip up my hands in a surrendering motion.

"Good-bye, Amy Rose." Eggman says, pulling the trigger.

I'm fuming in anger and frustration. I jump in time to avoid the bullet in my head, ultimately killing myself.

But, he manages to hit a vital organ. I fall down, holding my ruby red gloves to the wound.

"You... Bastard..." I mumble, my breathing shallow and my eyes turning black in anger at him. I fall on my hands and knees, coughing up blood. "I'm... Not... My sister..."

Eggman's eyes widen as he sees the black, cold, ruthless eyes staring at him. "A-Ashley... I had no idea you were out here..." He says, completely shocked.

"I..." I begin, coughing up some blood. "I always... Come out here... Before Valentines' Day... To make Shadow's gift..."

"Well... Tell Amy that this is a warning. That I'll get her soon-" Eggman begins.

"Go to hell..." I mumble. "You'll never... Get her... As long as... My other family members... Will protect her!" I try to yell, but it comes out as a moan.

I jump down, quietly and sneak up behind Eggman. When he opens his mouth again, I pull out my gun. I shoot him in the head.

After Eggman falls on the ground bleeding, I run over to Ashley and lay her head on my chest. "Ashley... I'm here... No one will harm you again..." I caress her face, ignoring the urge to cry.

Ashley smiles softly, her black eyes turning into the lovely, ruby red eyes. That I've come to know. Those eyes hold love, affection, and happiness in them.

She moves her free hand up to my face and caress my cheek. "I've... Always pictured... This moment before I died..." She whispers to me, knowing my keen hearing can pick it up. "But, I imagined..." Her eyes turn to pain and coughs up blood. "That I'll die in my... Sleep... Instead of... Being murdered... By that dumbass.. Motherfucker named Eggman..." She says, the pain turning to anger and back again.

My eyes are feeling heavy. I want to sleep, but yet I don't want to... Does that make sense... It makes sense to my jumbled up mind.

"I'm gonna get you to the hospital." Shadow whispers in my ear. "I'll make sure you live and continue your life." He says, determined.

I smile, knowing my eyes are shining with love and happiness. Not the pain I feel in my body.

Shadow picks me up, bridal style. Then, he takes out his Chaos Emerald and Chaos Controls to the hospital.

The doctors and nurses notice the blood on his hands, on my glove, and my lavender night-gown.

"Can we get her to the operating room!" Shadow basically yells.

I wince in pain and he notices. "I'm sorry..." He whispers in my ear, meaning every word.

I giggle, but I stopped short. Because I had to cough up blood on the white linoleum floors.

Shadow frowns and sits in a chair, setting me in his lap.

I look up at him, frowning as he's deep in thought. Worried lines wrinkling his perfect forehead. "What's wrong?" I ask, wanting to make him smile.

"I could've prevented this..." He mumbles, almost to himself. "It's all my fault..."

I frown and poke his cheek, making him look at me. When he does turn his head my way. I respond, "It's NOT your fault... It's mine... I let my guard down..."

He's getting to respond when a nurse rips, metaphorically, me out of his warm and the safety of his arms. I almost make a noise of disapproval, then remember my bullet wound. I don't make a noise as I'm put on a gurney.

I smile at Shadow as he's up and yelling to the doctors to have a few more moments with me. He notices my smile and says nothing more.

I wave as the double doors close behind me. I shut my eyes and let the sleep consume me.

It's 1:52AM, meaning today is Valentines' Day. I've been pacing for the past 6 hours in the waiting room. Glancing at the double doors whenever a doctor appeared. Hoping Ashley's okay.

During those 6 hours, besides my pacing, I called her family, Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles. They're all sitting and waiting.

"Shadow..." Amelia whispers. When I turn my head toward her, she smiles and pats the seat next to her. "She'll be okay. I know Ashley puts up one hell of a fight." She says, hoping to make me smile.

But, it doesn't. The only hedgehog I fell for is STILL in the operating room.

I sit down next to Amelia, putting my face in my hands.

After about 10 minutes of sitting, a light blue fox comes out. He looks around and spots the 9 of us sitting/sleeping. He begins walking over.

I stand up and runs over to him. "Is Ashley okay?!" I ask, anxiously. A hopeful glint in my eyes.

The fox looks at the others and they look up at him, he smiles at us. "My name is Dr. Daniel Garcia." Then, his smile disappears. "I've got some good news and some bad news." He says.

The shred of hope that I had for Ashley is gone. "Can we hear the bad news first?" I respond, sadness seeping into my voice.

"Ashley won't make it... The bullet hit her liver and is wedged too deep in. We can't get it out without damaging her system." He says, going all doctor mode on us.

I sigh and look at him. "What's the good news?" I ask.

Dr. Garcia motions for me to follow.

I obey. We walk until we turn a corner out of Ashley's friends' hearing.

Dr. Garcia turned around and his serious expression on his face makes me stand up straight. I didn't know I was slouching till seeing his hard eyes. "Ashley's awake, but she only requests to see you." He says.

I punch down the urge to smile. Only Ashley gets to see my happy smile.

Dr. Garcia nods and leads me through the hospital. Leading me toward Ashley... For my last memories to make with her...

I'm bored... But, I'm waiting patiently for Shadow to appear in my doorway. It's about 25 minutes until I hear the door make a faint 'click' noise. I turn my head toward the noise and smiles.

"Hey, Sh-Shadikku..." I say, using my favorite nickname for him.

He smiles at me and replies, "Hi, Ash." I blush a faint pink, remembering his nickname for me.

My blush disappears as my facial expression becomes a serious one. "Tell everyone... To protect Amy... Including yourself, Shadow..." I say. "Also, tell them that... I'm sorry... I couldn't be there... To watch you get married..." I pull the blanket up to my mouth and coughs.

He took the chance to say something. "Ashley... Don't say that... I could never love anyone as much as I loved you and Maria..." He says, taking a deep breath. "Your my world, Ashley. Only you can make me smile and melt my cold heart. You taught me to love and be happy again..." I could see his eyes glazing over, fighting back his tears. "Ever since you started to grow up, I wanted to be with you. I wanted to have kids with you..." He whispers, tears falling down his face. "I never wanted this to happen to you... NEVER..." He pulls me into a hug and cries in the crook of my neck.

I smile and play with his quills. My own tears are falling down my face. I try to gain his attention again. "Shadow?" I say.

He looks up, anxiously. "What is it, Ashley?" He asks, holding my hands in his soft, big ones.

I move over a little bit, patting the open space. He takes the hint and climbs in next to me.

I lay my head on his fluffy, white chest. "I love you, Shadow..." I say, shutting my eyes. I fight to open my eyes again when I hear him speak.

"I love you, too, Ashley..." He says, playing with my long quills. "I just wish I could've saved you..."

I smile and giggle quietly. "I knew my time was coming, Shadow... You can't ignore fate..." I say, knowing he'd never believe that.

He looks down at me. "I'm sorry I was such an ass to you... I never want this to happen again... Maria died because I couldn't save her... It's like a repeat of history..." He mumbles.

I laugh quietly, then I have a coughing fit. "Just promise me one thing?" I ask.

He lays his head on mine. "Anything..." He whispers.

"Protect my family... Tell Sonic that I've... Always found him like... A brother..." I say. "Also, move on... I want to see you happy... Not hung up on me... Or my death... It wasn't your fault... It was because of... My carelessness..."

He nods. "I promise..." He says.

I smile and close my eyes again. Allowing the sleep to consume me.

I watch her chest move down and her heart stopping. The heart monitor going ballistic. Her lovely hot pink skin, loses its color. It turns to a pale pink. Her body is turning cold as her soul is leaving her body.

I lost rationality and I start shaking her lifeless body. "ASHLEY! WAKE UP! COME BACK! WAKE UP! PLEASE! DON'T LEAVE ME!" I scream, tears are falling down my face.

I stay like that until nurses, Dr. Garcia, Sonic, Knuckles, Tails, Ramvelle, Quincy, Amelia, Amy, and Amanda all rush in.

The Rose family pulls me away from Ashley's body. They whisper soothing words to me.

"Please calm down, Shadow..." Amy says.

"She put up a fight to say her last dying words to you." Amelia responds.

"Don't regret the promises you made, Mr. Shadow." Amanda says, frowning.

I take a deep breath and rip my arms out of Ramvelle's and Quincy's grip. "I'm fine..." I say, looking down at the floor.

Sonic and Tails fold their ears down. Knuckles avoids eye-contact.

No one has seen me this broken.

I walk up to Sonic. "Ashley said she always found you like a brother... Also, she wants all of us to protect Amy from Eggman's clutches..." I say. “But, I killed Eggman after he shot Ashley…”

"Is it Eggman who murdered Ashley?" He asks. I nod in response.

I look at Ashley's siblings. They lived with her for a long time. I ruffle Amanda's hair and hugs them all. Giving fists bumps to Ramvelle and Quincy.

"I'll be at home..." I mumble and Chaos Control. But, really, I only want to be in Ashley's room.

I lay down on her bed, breathing in her lavender and rose floral scent. And I fell asleep there.

In my dreams, Ashley is still alive and hands me my Valentines' Day teddy.

But, later on... I began hating the holidays. Because Ashley wasn't there. To give me the love and attention that she always did...

~37 years later~

It's August 1st, 3274 C.E. Today would've been Ashley's 54th birthday.

Amy got married to Sonic and had 2 kids. Angel and Dash Rose the Hedgehog, both were 10 on September 15th, 3260 C.E.

Amelia died of suicide. She confessed to me, but I rejected her. She can act like Ashley all she wants, but she could never be my Ashley.

Ramvelle married Acwellen the Hedgehog. It turns out that he was gay. They never had kids, but they died happily.

Quincy married a fox named Quorra. It's Italian for heart. They had a baby boy. His name is Odil the Hedge-fox. It's French for rich... Although they're poor... Quorra spends the money on Odil...

Amanda married Blink the Hedgehog. He's a black hedgehog with crimson red hair. I find it weird, but I don't normally pay attention to those things anymore. Anyways, they had twins. Basil and Abigail Rose the Hedgehog. Basil is a black hedgehog with pinkish-purple hair. Abigail is a pink hedgehog with black hair and purple streaks in it. They are born on December 19th, 3272 C.E. They'll be 2 soon...

Without Eggman here, Mobius became quite a peaceful place.

If your curious on if I got married, I didn't. I stayed single for her. I gave up my criminal ways for her.

I'm at Ashley's grave. I put down the pink roses and lavenders on it.

The gravestone is in the shape of a heart and on it reads-

'Rest in Piece

'Here lies Ashley Marie Rose.

'Best friend, sister, and girlfriend.

'August 1st, 3220 C.E.-February 14th, 3237 C.E.

'Favorite Holiday: Valentines' Day'

The only people I never pushed away since Ashley's death was her family. If anything, we became closer.

I always talked to them.

I gave up everything... Just for her...

~Few years later~

Shadow the Hedgehog died on February 13th, 3277 C.E.

He is resting next to Ashley's grave. He's up in Heaven, enjoying the time with Ashley.

Just for her, he turned over a new leaf. To make her feel special and happy, once again.

The End...

[kingfallstranscripts-blog]

Episode 16 : Santa Claus Ain’t Comin’ To Town

(King Falls AM theme plays)

Ben: You are off the charts excited, Sammy. Are you sure this isn’t about Christmas vacation?

Sammy: Not at all. I’ve just finally got something big to bring to the table, spooky stuff wise, and I cannot wait.

Ben: *laughs* You are glowing, man. I can’t wait to hear this.

Sammy: Good evening ladies and gents, and Welcome to King Falls AM - that’s 660 on the AM dial, and this is our last show of the year. The last show before our big Christmas break, as Ben mentioned.  

Ben: Let’s not say big, it’s just a break. We’ll be right back here literally on New Years Day. Thanks, Merv. But we’ve got a hell of a show for you.

Sammy: Okay, can I just get a few minutes off the top to talk about today’s discovery? 

Ben: I was literally just saying, the floor is yours, Sammy.

Sammy: Okay, alright. So, you know sometimes I’m a little bit, uh, skeptical when it comes to - 

Ben: Literally everything. You are skeptical of every phenomenon that has crossed our paths.

Sammy: I wouldn’t say every. 

Ben: Oh, I would. Do you want a recap? There was the alien abduction, the -

Sammy: *laughs* No - no, no, no. I think you know your stuff. So, you should know that I’m very excited to bring my own bit of King Falls lore to the table tonight. 

Ben: Before you press on, are you sure this is a good idea?

Sammy: What do you mean? 

Ben: I’m not trying to be argumentative here, but the last time that you brought in a find of our own last time like this, you brought Howard Ford Beauregard III into our lives.

Sammy: *sharply* Okay, that was a mistake and we have talked about that. 

Ben: I know! I’m just saying...be super sure about this one, huh.

Sammy: This is nothing like HFB 3. 

Ben: Then please continue my friend. 

Sammy: So, I was out doing a little bit of shopping earlier today at The King Falls Mall and -

Ben: Was it crazy crowded? I still have to pick up something special for...my mom.

Sammy: It was crowded. Not Black Friday crowded, but nicely darkly opaque Tuesday, if you will. 

Ben: Okay, cool.

Sammy: We all know that gift is not for your mom, by the way.

Ben: Whatever.

Sammy: So, I’m at the mall, I make my purchases, but I’m all worked up and got an appetite and I’m not gonna wait in line at a mall eatery with Christmas people, ya know? So, I’m thinking, why not just go the 3 minutes away to Frickards? 

Ben: ... Traitor. But I get it.

Sammy: So, I make the drive over to my favorite Frogery. A #5 Frick-a-Seed with extra frog puppies...

Ben: You actually eat the frogs there, man? I heard they poach them there directly from Lake Hatchineha.

Sammy: Don’t say that! They are a fine sponsor of the show. 

Ben: Facts are facts. 

Sammy: Okay, so I get there and pulling up right beside me is this beautiful candy apple red Corvette. It was a beauty, let me tell ya. Early 1960′s, but the closer I look, the weirder it gets. It’s got bells, like sleigh bells, all over this thing -

Ben: Let’s, uh, move on Sammy.

Sammy: So I look over at the driver, this bigger older gent steps out of the car...red suit, red tie, massive white beard -

Ben: Sammy, I think we should, uh -

Sammy: Tiny little glasses, rosy red cheeks, and the friendliest damn face I’ve ever seen. He introduced himself as Chris!

Ben: So you run into a mall Santa running late for work?

Sammy: Oh, this was no mall Santa, Ben. This was thee Santa. We made chit-chat and there was only one available table, so with it just being myself and him, we -

Ben: You had lunch with a mall Santa.

Sammy: Bennnnn, he knew my name without me saying it!

Ben: You’re a radio sensation, Sammy. Lots of people know your name.

Sammy: Do they know my childhood address? What I got for Christmas when i was 6? I don’t think so!

Ben: *laughs* Oh jeez, you got a Santa stalker, buddy. Either that or Creepy Carl got released on bail. Moving forward - 

Sammy: He knew all this stuff, Ben! My wants, my likes...good things and bad things. You know, I’m pretty protective of my personal life, Ben.

Ben: Yeah, I do, Shotgun.  

Sammy: This was Santa Claus, real as day, right here in King Falls! Not only that, but he told me that he actually vacations here part of the year! Think about that! The big guy hanging out here! *scoffs* Dude, why are you looking at me like this?

Ben: Do you know how many older gentleman in the world dress up as Santa Claus, Sammy? A lot. It’s a job for some folks. Some of them go to hospitals. It’s a big deal for some folks. This was one of those guys. Just pulling your chain, Sammy. Santa living here part time is *sputters* I doubt very, very seriously that this guy you met -

-Sammy: It was him. I don’t understand why you’re so hell bent on dismissing this! If a caller called in with this story, you’d be on a mission! 

Ben: I’m not hell bent on dismissing you. I’m just...looking at this from all angles. How bout that? 

Sammy: Are you saying King Falls isn’t good enough for a Santa vacation home? A second house?

Ben: I’m not saying that at all! That’s ludicrous...d-did he tell you I said that?!

Sammy: A-ha! So you know I’m right. 

Ben: No! Santa- I mean, mall dude Santas are tricky. I - I don’t trust them! Look at this wedge he’s driving, man!

Sammy: You know something about this... 

Ben: *sputters* You want me to tell you what I know?

Sammy: I do!

Ben: Here’s the scoop: I know you meant some...guy. I know he’s not Santa because Santa would not go to Greg Frickard’s place to eat. I know -

Sammy: You’re full of it. 

Ben: You wanna put this to the callers? We can poll this thing out. 

Sammy: I think I do, Ben! This guy knew what I go for Christmas years ago. HE knew about Wolfington the terrier, which I got for Christmas as a kid. He knew it all! 

Ben: Ha, okay, King Falls: Do you think Sammy meant the real Santa Claus earlier today? Think about this and give us a call: 424-279-3858

Sammy: Heh-heh, you are on, buddy. I’m not gonna be the only person here - 

Ben: *quickly* OPERATION KING FALLS KRINGLE 

(Cuts to commercial: Banjo Music Playing)

“Howdy y’all! It’s Randy McMullet from McMulletson’s National Palace of Snake Skin Boots, and I’m here to let ya know we got some rattlin’ new for ya. After the sensational success of Black Mamba Friday, it’s time to roll out our next deal of the year. This weekend it’s our annual Secret Santa Albino Snakeskin Special. We’ll have all our white snake choices at our unbeatable dark snake prices. So slither on down just outside of town at the corner of Route 72 and Ol Bauman Range Road. McMullet’s International House of Snake Skin Boots! Where we fill yourboots, with savin’s!"

(Welcome to 660 plays)

Sammy: What the hell was that about?

Ben: It was about saving money on boots, man. 

Sammy: No, whatever you yelled right before the commercial. 

Ben: *laughs* I don’t know what you’re talking about. I sneezed. 

Sammy: ... I’m watching you. 

Ben: Watch away, Sammy. Pick a line, they’re all lit up. Like Christmas. 

Sammy: You’re way too smug, I don’t like this. Lucky Line 1...

Ben: An excellent choice. 

Sammy: Good evening, you’re on with Sammy and Ben.

Cynthia: First off, Sammy, obviously you’re off your rocker. Santa lives in the North Pole! 

Sammy: *sighs* Hi, Cynthia. 

Cynthia: Secondly, are you for real shopping at the King Falls Mall? Do you have a death wish?!

Ben: What are you on about, Mrs. Higenbaum?

Sammy: It honestly wasn’t that busy...

Cynthia: I’m not talking about crowds! I’m talking about the gang of vampires that live in the mall... just waiting for the perfect time to strike! 

Ben: What?! 

Cynthia: Of course you wouldn’t know, Ben. 

Ben: I’m pretty up to date on my - 

Cynthia: Obviously you are not...or you’d know about the gang of vampires that live in the mall!

Sammy: Cynthia, thanks for calling tonight. Even if you are dead wrong about Santa. Now, would you like to expand about this, uh, vam-

Cynthia. Gang of vampires. 

Sammy: Right...

Ben: How do you know that they’re vampires, Cynthia? 

Cynthia: Pale much? Check. Dark clothes? Check. Never ever out in the light of day? CHECK! 

Ben & Sammy: She’s talking about Hot Topic...

Sammy: Aren’t you?

Cynthia: They just glare at you soullessly when you walk in. Eyeing you up and down, probably looking for a good vein.

Sammy: Or a neck tattoo. 

Cynthia: This is not to be made light of, Sammy! You’ll see!

Ben: They’re just goth kids, Mrs. Higenbaum. 

Cynthia: Oh, please. Like you know! Let the record state that when King Falls is overrun in a Lost Boys type fashion with these emo vampires that I tried to warn you! And you just laughed! 

Sammy: What do you recommend, Cynthia? Should we stock up on garlic and stakes?

Ben: I think just knowing our parents loved us enough should do the trick.

Cynthia: Laugh it up, you dumbs. You know I hate telling people “I told you so” but I will tell your ass “I told you so” SO FAST! *politely* Merry Christmas! *hangs up*

Ben: So... we’ll count that as a no. 0 and 1, Sammy. 

Sammy: Line 5, welcome to King Falls AM.

Finn: *faint sounds of the highway* Hey, Sammy! Hey, Ben! 

Sammy: Hey, Finn! Long time no talk, buddy! You doin’ alright? 

Finn: Oh yeah! Never better! Just had to get a couple shots, ya know? 

Ben: That’s good to hear, Finn. Uh, what’s your take on this?

Finn: Oh, I was actually just phonin’ cause I wanted to tell you fellas Merry Christmas before it was too late.

Ben: Merry Christmas to you too, Finn! Stay safe out there on the roads.

Finn: You know it!

Sammy: Well, thanks for calling in, Finn. We’re glad that you’re feeling better. We were pretty worried about you.

Finn: Ohhhh, you fellas. Howl at the moon one little time and you get alllll worried.

Sammy: It was more than once, Finn.

Finn: You know what I’m sayin’! It’s not like I’m going to sleep and wakin’ up naked in a field somewhere covered in chicken feathers and god knows what all over me... on the regular. *sounds of scratching *

Sammy: That... is, um, good to hear, Finn. 

Finn: Just once every now and then, ya know?

Ben: *laughs nervously* Okay, y-you take care of yourself. Happy Holidays.

Finn: You know it! *hangs up*

Ben: That was another- 

Sammy: Don’t count that! Finn didn’t comment on it either way!

Ben: I’ll mark it as Switzerland. Another call?

Sammy: You bet your ass another call. Y-you pick a line!

Ben: Uh, line 3! Good evening and Wel-

Herschel: *low sounds of a boat motor and crickets* You two goofy sons of (censored) hung up on me last time I called! When I get my dick-beaters on ya, it’ll be hell to pay! 

Ben: Uh, we...must’ve been having...phone difficulties, Herschel. We would never. Did you call during the Electrolocaust? 

Herschel: I called two damn week ago, Ben Arnold! Don’t you “Electrolocaust” me. Gotta wake up pretty damn early in the morning to scoot one past Herschel F. Baumgartner. 

Sammy: Herschel, we are so sorry the phones were malfunctioning last time you called. Are you on tonight to talk about Santa’s appearance and possible living in King Falls? 

Herschel: Santa who? Santa Livingston? Haven’t heard from that son of a (censored) since the Beaches of Normandy... 

Sammy: Santa Claus, Herschel... 

Herschel: No, I ain’t here to talk about no Sante Claus. You two need to grow the (censored) up. 

Ben: What’s on your mind, Herschel?

Herschel: Don’t rush me! You two-toned pecker sniff! I’ll get to it when I get to it. 

Sammy: Herschel, do you think - 

Herschel: Mother (censored)! I had it before you opened your damn trap! I’ll ring you later when I can think of it, and you better not hang up on me again! 

Sammy: You do that, Herschel... if we don’t hear back from you before then, have a Merry Christmas. 

Herschel: You two goin’ somewhere? 

Ben: It’s our Christmas Break! But we’ll be back live on New Years Day.

Herschel: You know what my generation called “breaks”?

Sammy: *under his breath* They weren’t just breaks? 

Herschel: They called it being (censored) dead because that’s the only break you get in life. You freeloading radio commies! Enjoy your break or vaycay or whatever you pansy bastards call it. 

Ben: Happy Holidays to you too, Herschel!

Herschel: I didn’t kill Hitler to say Happy (censored) Holidays... :*mutters under breath* *hangs up*

Sammy: Ladies and gentlemen, Ben and I are talking about the appearance of Santa here in King Falls earlier today. I was told from the jolly one himself that he enjoys staying in The Falls when he isn’t in the busy season. Ben says otherwise...

Ben: Have you or anyone you know ran into this phony Santa saying he’s squatting here? If you have, give us a call *coughing* Operation King Falls Kringle.

Sammy: I knew you were up to something! 

Ben: Please. You’re paranoid because you’re losing. Line 2, this is King Falls AM. 

Troy: Hey, fellas, Merry Christmas! Or Happy Hanukkah if that’s the way your dreidel spins. Or h-have a good Kwanzaa, etc and so on. 

Sammy: Merry Christmas, Troy. 

Ben: Are you not supposed to be calling us on duty? 

Troy: I’m on break, Ben! Damn it all! Don’t start! I’m calling to tell you something important. 

Ben: This again? You’re a broken record. BYE, TROY.

Sammy: Don’t... let him speak.

Ben: Tsk. Whatever. 

Troy: Thanks, Sammy...and right off the bat I wanna tell you I believe you saw what you say you saw. 

Ben: Troy! Come on! You know the drill!

Troy: I’m not saying he was or he wasn’t. I’m just saying, if you saw him... I believe ya. Maybe a man just wants to lay low, far away from the spotlight. I mean, King Falls is a heck of a town to retire to. 

Sammy: Mark that down, Ben.

Ben: He’s only saying it just to spite me. 

Troy: That ain’t close to true and you know it, Ben Arnold. w, if you’ll permit me... I’ve got a gift for ya.

Ben: If this is your friendship, I hope you kept the receipt. 

Troy: It’s actually not that. Though, it’s ripe for the picking whenever you want it, Ben.  

Ben: Ha, don’t hold your breath...

Sammy: *sighs* Come on. Do you wanna bring it by the station, Troy?

Ben: DON’T!

Troy: Well the problem is I bought it online and I’m having it shipped here and well...seems it’s gonna be a little late.

Ben: *laughs condescendingly* Of course it is. Can’t even get a Christmas present right, Troy. Just give it up!

Troy: We were best buds growing up and... I ain’t givin up on that. Or you. I mean, you’ll see. You and me, we’ll be back where we started just as sure as you can say “pickled pie piper”

Ben: NEXT CALLER.

Troy: That’ll work, too! Well, I’ll quit yackin and make like a shepherd and get the flock outta here.

Sammy: Take care, Troy. Merry Christmas to you and yours, buddy. 

Ben: Bye, already! 

Troy: Catch ya later, future buddy.

Ben: We have time for one or two more before break. Ya wanna keep going or give it up?

Sammy: By my count, we are tied. 

Ben: Glutton for punishment...you call it.

Sammy: I’m gonna go back to Lucky Line 1. Happy Holidays! You’re on King Falls AM.

Caller: *Heavily Elvis Presley sounding* Hey, man, uh - I wanna talk about this Chris Kringle business. 

Sammy: We’re all ears, sir. Have you seen him around town or am I just being fooled by a factitious St.Nick? 

Caller/Probably Elvis: The way I see it, uh - 

Ben: Uh, who are we speaking with? 

Caller/Elvis: That don’t matter none. 

Ben: Right. Uh, w-what were you saying, sir? 

Caller/Elvis: I just think that a man wants to lie low in a place where he’s not gonna get bothered or pestered or recognized than good for him. Maybe life got too stressful or he didn’t wanna buy a Cadi for everyone that he met.... Hell, maybe he followed the love of his life to a small Podunk crazy haunted town. Maybe it’s cause he found out Rose makes the greatest peanut butter banana sammich you ever laid eyes on. 

Sammy: Are... we still talking about Santa Claus, sir?

Caller/Elvis: Of course! 

Sammy: Okay, it just seemed like maybe we were talking about someone else for a second. Like yourself... 

Caller/Elvis: ♪Don’t be cruel♪ Sammy. I’m just a teddy bear. A teddy bear with nothin to hide. I say if Ol’ St. Nick wants to hang out in this spooky place then so be it. We can’t have ♪suspicious minds!♪ about it. Just let it be. 

Ben: Sir, I-I don’t wanna make this about you, but you sound a lot like the King of Rock and I -

Caller/Elvis: Yeah! ♪Little less conversation♪ Ben! *hangs up* 

Sammy: I’m just gonna say... I think that guy knows that he’s talking about, Ben.

Ben: Still doesn’t mean anything! 

Sammy: Why are you fighting me so hard one this, Ben?!

Ben: Okay... I’m not saying you’re right...

Sammy: But I’m right...

Ben: But! But! If somebody as important as Santa Claus was to have a vacation home or hide away spot in King Falls - and he doesn’t!

Sammy: And he does...

Ben: But...maybe it’s for a reason. Like a specific reason. Like maybe he doesn’t wanna be bothered with a bag of mail everyday. An email address overflowing with wants and needs. Non-union worker issues. Maybe the wife wants a place to escape the hustle and bustle of the great white north a few times a year without TMZ knocking on the door. If that were the case, and I-I don’t think it would be fair to call attention to that.

Sammy: If that were the case...

Ben: Right! If that were the case. Now, I do not think that’s the case at all. I think this is the case of... mistaken identity. Or maybe you were tricked by a chubby merrier than thou prankster who was too friendly to not keep up appearances. But I don’t think you really saw the real deal here...and he certainly wouldn’t live in King Falls for a few weeks every year if you did see him. 

Sammy: Huh. Maybe...Maybe I was mistaken...

Ben: It...it could’ve been anybody. 

Sammy: I think you’re on to somethin, Ben. I think I was, uh... huh. I think I was mislead. 

(Holiday music starts playing)

Ben: *laughs* Maybe so! 

Sammy: Hmm, well... Okay, then.

Ben: We good?

Sammy: Yeah, I think we’re good! So I hear we got a hell of a show lined up for tonight, is that right?

Ben: Oh! You better believe it, buddy! Right after the break! 

(Sleigh-bells and Santa in background) Ho-ho-ho! 

Sammy: Sorry about that, folks! Somebody must owe Chet some money. Ladies and gentlemen, thanks for hanging out with us this chilly winter’s night. We’re just getting started here, but we’re gonna take a quick break to pay some bills. If we don’t hear from you before then, Merry Christmas to you and yours from King Falls AM. 

(Sleigh-bells and Santa in background) Merry Christmas! 

[theworstbob]

yellin’ at songs, week thirty-four

in this post WITH A TWIST YOU’LL NEVER SEE COMING, we review the songs which debuted on the billboard chart the weeks of 8.30.1997, 9.1.2007, and 9.2.2017

8.30.1997

40) "All Cired Out," by Allure ft./112

Imagine how dope this would have been a capella. Like, you have a girl group and a boy group. That's at least six singers good enough to sustain their own groups. Why you gotta give this song all the production? Why not let the cavalcade of singers carry this one home? Curse that we're a good 15 years away from Pentatonix making a capella commercially viable! This song could have been something.

46) "Backyard Boogie," by Mack 10

/clears throat /tugs at collar Eh, now this mack should not have returned. /bows to thunderous applause /leaves the stage /audience still applauding /walks back onto stage /tugs at throat /clears collar Eh, now... /audience falls into rapturous, expectant silence This mack? /everyone in the audience is waiting for the words i speak to deliver their salvation /i hold them for a thousand years Should not have returned. /i am anointed Wonderful Comedy Boy /god himself weeps

62) "What About Us," by Total ft./Missy Elliott

Never gonna complain about Missy in YAS, except for the time she cropped up in 2017 and I wasn't into it. I complained about it then, if memory serves. But I only complained about it because it was a Missy song that didn't sound like this, because this song is smooth and fresh and several other outdated descriptors! Also, I haven't made enough a big deal about The Double Decade Dance Club, but, as far as I'm willing to go back through the archives, the folks who've had songs chart in '97, '07, and '17 are Missy Elliott, Jay-Z, Tim McGraw, and Faith Hill. Special consideration is given to Mariah Carey, who doesn't qualify for Decade Dance with no songs charting in '07 but DID have songs debut later in '97 and earlier in '17! Congratulations to those five people on this fake accolade in a blog read by an indeterminate but likely single-digit number!

68) "Around the World," by Daft Punk

Have I had my complaints about electronic music in the 1997 list? Yes. Have I wished for dance music that sounds like something I could dance to? Several times! Does this mean I like Daft Punk? I... I mean, y'all knew I wasn't cool. Like, this sounds fine, I don't disagree with every single thing happening in this song, which is a step up from all the other electronic music, but I connect to this about as much as I do a well-composed track in a video game. I admire how it does its thing, but I'm not attached to this song in any meaningful way, I'm not having any sort of emotional reaction to it. It just sort of exists while I'm hitting buttons. Wait and this is HOW MANY minutes long? Y'all, I'm behind on every single obligation, no thank you.

69) "My Love Is the Shhh!" by Somethin' for the People ft./Trina & Tamara

This is like a staler version of the Missy track we had earlier, and I already opted not to pay attention to the Missy track so I could blather about YAS mythology, I don't know how I'm supposed to come to this song and find something else to say about it. What kind of name is Somethin' for the People, anyway? How do you settle on that as a name? Did literally every other combination of words in the English language fail to please you? I have to access the Iowa Land Records website sometimes, and the captchas they use on that website are delightful words that are almost English but not quite. Today I had to enter Simbang Carrer. I don't understand how you could be given a set of letters and rules which can create Simbang Carrer and think, "No. Somethin' for the People. That is how we identify." I hope they had a rivalry with Nice Songs For Enjoyment.

72) "Don't Say," by Jon B

milquetoast (adj) - a word used by people looking for a synonym for 'bored' that happened to open the thesaurus while they were hungry

73) "As We Lay," by Daha

"I'll be fine," Bob said as he decided to put off writing the entirety of YAS to Wednesday evening. "I know 1997 has 11 songs, but there's no way all of them are going to be '90s R&B! I won't get burnt out by the fifth R&B jam because there will only be five, with enough variety between R&B jams to keep these songs fresh1" Friends, I can admit when I have erred. In my defense: have you listened to Bad Cop/Bad Cop's Warriors? I feel I should be forgiven for making Bad Cop/Bad Cop's Warriors the only thing I've listened to the last five days. This song is pretty okay. I think the beat isn't quite sure what song it belongs to, but it gives this song a unique sound, which, hey, you probably didn't listen to all these songs. You probably don't get how much I treasure something that sounds unique, even if it's a not especially great kind of unique.

78) "Happy with You," by Samantha Cole

HELL YEAH I LOVE THAT SEINFELD-ASS BASS. You know what, song of the year, right here. I feel like this song is the reward for sloughing through Slow R&B Mire, and now I have this upbeat song about the joy of finding another soul in this world and being in that moment with them, and I just, thank you, thank you everyone for creating this moment, for giving me just like a nice song about how good an emotion love is. Yeah, girl, you try to hit that high note! A for effort! A for good song! A+ to your bassist, what a pleasant song!

80) "No Tengo Dinero," by Los Umbrellos

"Los Umbrellos was a Latin pop dance group formed in Denmark" Um "It was led by the rapper Al Agami, the exiled crown prince of the small African enclave of Africa" UMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM DID SOMEONE SEE THAT NO ONE HAD WRITTEN AN ARTICLE ABOUT THIS PARTICULAR GROUP AND JUST SAID "I'LL TAKE TO WIKIPEDIA!" AND JUST MADE SHIT UP? DANISH LATIN POP GROUP "The song hit #1 in Austria" OK, that I'll believe, knowing what I know about Austrian music that absolutely tracks, this is the trash they love in Austria. But no seriously DANISH. LATIN. POP. GROUP.

86) "Piece of My Heart," by Shaggy ft./Marsha

Oh hell yeah. This is everything the "I Shot the Sherrif" cover wasn't. Like, that was a song that wasn't quite sure what it wanted to do with the song, but you know what this does? You know what made me laugh in my apartment? It took the Janis Joplin cover, it gave it the reggae backing, it did the "COME ON! COME ON! COME ON! COME ON!" thing, and that led RIGHT INTO A GODDAMNED SHAGGY VERSE. LIKE HELL YEAH. That's the music version of the hidden blocks in Kaizo Mario. Just get dunked on. "COME ON, COME ON, COME ON, COME ON," and then it turns out we were building up to Shaggy. That was beautiful. Like, this kinda garbages up a standard, but I don't care, it's hella fun.

88) "I Care 'Bout You," by Milestone

Yep. Yeah, there's about only one way 1997 could end. "Sometimes I feel so alone/I call your heart but there's no one at home." Oh absoLUTEly fuck off.

9.1.2007

38) "You Are the Music in Me," Zac Efron & Vanessa Hudgens 60) "Gotta Go My Own Way," Zac Efron & Vanessa Hudgens 66) "Bet on It," Zac Efron 74) "I Don't Dance," Corbin Bleu & Lucas Grabeel 90) "Everyday," Zac Efron & Vanessa Hudgens 92) "All for One," High School Musical 2

Even in 2007, I was already too old, as well as a tad bit too straight, to have any opinion on the High School Musical series. But! While I have gotten approximately 10 years older in the intervening ten years, I like to think I've become substantially gayer, so HERE WE GO. Honestly, HSM as a franchise is inoffensive fun. I enjoyed the first movie when I was of an appropriate age to have watched it, I enjoyed the clips from the second film as a 28-year-old alone in an apartment, and "Bet on It" is a classic piece of American filmmaking that should be taught in schools. I’m not afraid to say it: High School Musical is great, and we are going to be so grateful if the world lasts long enough for the ‘00s nostalgia wave to hit and create the 20-year High School Musical reunion and/or reboot movies.

46) "Clothes Off!" Gym Class Heroes ft./Patrick Stump

So this song is breezy fun, almost certainly the song of the week were it not for the fact "Bet on It" belongs in every museum, but it does sort of foretell the disappointing direction in which Travis McCoy would venture, dunnit? "Cupid's Chokehold" is this equally fun song about a neurotic, emokiddy person finding love in this crazy world, and it's not the most sophisticated thing in the world, but it's a nice song with a distinct feel, and then there's this party jam about gettin' naked, and it's like, alright, I dig this party jam, but you're gonna go back to, y'know, the emo stuff, right? But they never did. They made one really dope song and then just made this forever.

98) "So Small," Carrie Underwood

Finally: an inspirational ballad from a female country singer. Don't think I've heard one of those yet from 2007. Great times.

9.2.2017

42) "Silence," by Marshmello ft./Khalid

This is a sensitive EDM jam like all the other sensitive EDM jams. I'm still lukewarm on Khalid as a whole, like I think he does a fine job on this song but I don't understand why he's this whole thing, don't really get what he brought to this song that no one else could, but honestly that doesn't matter when I probably couldn't discern this from a Chainsmokers joint. Y'all have fun with this one, teens. Y'all do you.

88) "More Girls Like You," by Kip Moore

Hold up. Hold up. Can we talk about the amazing mixed similie in the first verse? "I've been livin' like a wild old Mustang out in Montana fields" A mustang is a horse. He is comparing himself to a wild horse. Understandable, and hey -- interesting spin on the usual back road cliche! Montana is the state equivalent of a back road. Quality shitty songwriting! "Mighta earned me a bad reputation, but never stopped these wheels" A mustang is a car. So he's a Ford Mustang in Montana? I mean I guess? Always good to compare yourself to an American-made automobile in country music. "I'm like a Camry runnin' with a full tank!" said no country star ever. "From rollin' and goin' too far/From runnin' and gunnin' too hard" OK, so he's a car, I recognize these as car terms, you gun engines, I get that, I remember the word rollin' playing a starring role in the Chamillionaire standard "Ridin'," I guess I got that part wrong at the start. Definitely a car. "So unreigned, so untamed" WHAT A HECKIN' TWIST HE WAS HORSE THIS WHOLE TIME?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!? Man, this song is trash.

92) "Something New," by Wiz Khalifa ft./Ty Dolla $ign

"Girl, you look just like something out a magazine/You smell great, know your body clean" ...Di, um, excuse me, but did Wiz Khalifa just compare his girl to the perfume samples that sometimes come in magazines? Anyway, this song sure existed for three minutes.

95) "Untouchable," by YoungBoy Never Broke Again

Various other videos call this man NBA YoungBoy, and with respect to the choices he has made, I am going to refer to him as that from here on out, assuming we hear from him again, which, hey, he's not the worst of the mumble-rap cohort! I kinda feel bad calling him mumble-rap, because this song actually goes more than one place, and that's at least him mumbling! No auto-tune over a trap beat, an actual human being mumbling over a fairly compelling track. Beat's really good, this might be the first song that actually held my attention for all three minutes. Don't know who produced this, but I hope that person goes just a bit farther than NBA YoungBoy.

97) "I Could Use a Love Song," by Maren Morris

I really wish the first six seconds of "Sugar" could be a single. The rest of the song is good, too, but those first six seconds are goddamned flames. I think it's important for you to know that Maren Morris is way more compelling than this song. It's fine, but like we had "Every Little Thing" two weeks ago, y'know? Like, the music video talks through the song, and I don't... blame it? It's OK! Just slight.

98) "Fix a Drink," by Chris Janson

OH FUCK THIS DUDE AND HIS "ROCKABYE"-ASS SPOKEN WORD NONSENSE. This is stupid. This is stupid, and I'm stupid for ever complaining about the preponderance of '90s R&B I've foisted upon myself. It has a sense of humor decidedly sub-Toby Keith. Congratulations on being able to make beer.

100) "Woke Up Like This," by Playboy Carti ft./Lil Uzi Vert

Billboard didn't classify any songs as either debuts or re-entries, songs that weren't on the chart last week simply didn't have an arrow next to the name and I had to guess if they were actually new or retreads of previously released songs. Like, I could have sworn I had to deal with Kip Moore, but that's prolly just 'cuz it sounds like the rest of bro country's nonsense. So I can't tell if this is a new song because they restyled the title or if this is an actual new version of "Woke Up Like This," but I'ma just go ahead and assume my initial assessment of this dude being boring still holds. I can’t believe an entity called NBA YoungBoy won the 2017 Song of the Week title. I can’t... I... Oh. Hold up.

Who won the week?

Did High School Musical 2 just win this one for 2007. Did 2007 really produce the best songs because this was the week High School Musical 2 dropped. It’s not 2017 because the highest grade I’m willing to give “Untouchable” is C+. It’s not 1997 because there was “Happy with You” and a lot of interchangeable nothings. Holy cats. 2007 won High School Musical 2 Week. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe I’m going to say, of the three years, 2007, BASED SOLELY ON THE STRENGTH OF HIGH SCHOOL GODS DAMNED MUSICAL 2, WON THIS FAKE ACCOLADE ON THIS LITTLE-READ BLOG. I forgot “Clothes Off!” dropped this week. This is all HSM2. Wow. What a week this turned out to be. When I was makin’ these lists, when I saw all the High School Musical 2 droppin’, I said, “2007 is dead in the water.” BUTCHA KNOW WHAT HAPPENED?!

2017: 12 1997: 11 2007: 11

2007 has won three of the last four weeks. Don’t call it a comeback, because 2007 never left. History is permanent, it would be weird if the entirety of 2007 disappeared even for a second. And next week, the last selection remaining from HSM2, “Fabulous,” will team up with 50 Cent to take on “Barbie Girl” and what appears to be /sigh/ an Avicii tune. Will the dream die? FIND OUT!