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tiredofthehumanlife · 7 months ago

Text

He bloody kissed me😱

Barbie dolls: rosekiller x you (Evan rosier, Barty crouch jr, and your gay ass)

Words: 6.7k ish

Summary: gn!reader btw but so basically Barty and Evan decide to include you in their sex life so yeah

Warnings: allusions to Jegulus, Barty gets called a fucktoy, choking, Barty is v submissive and then Evan is like dominant?? And then r is like the medium between the two, KNIVES KNIVES, blood lots of blood, they lap up the blood like hounds, Barty cried during sex but like he's chill dont worry about him, handcuffs Barty is restrained, Voldemort mentioned, Evan quite enjoys degrading Barty, lots of praise, choking with a belt, Barty is the only one who cums, I don't think you people read these, Barty gets called a slut, cumslut, and a whore, cuckolding undertones srry ig, Barty's comes in his pants, is it comes or cums?, Barty's happy trail is mentioned so often it deserves a space in the credits, scarring, cannibalism undertones (they aren't under they're very present), AFTERCARE INCLUDED SUCK MY DICK ITS PART OF SEX, if you know me 😐not anymore

Being friends with Barty and Evan was enjoyable. They were funny, they were nice on occasion, however they were also insane. More specifically they were insane in bed. It wasn't even something you wanted to know. Everything you learned about their sex life was involuntary.

Barty would come in with a new bandage and an impossible to recreate grin. You'd get worried that he got into trouble and ask his what happened. He give you a bright smile and mutter 'ask my boyfriend'. You fell for it everytime, too. Your love for your friends often trumped your common sense. Always so worried for him you'd forget he was a physchopath dating a psychopath. He had shown up with bruises before, a hickey, a bruise on his arm in the shape of a hand, yada yada. If you didn't know them as well as you wished you didn't you would've thought Evan was beating Barty without his consent. Unfortunately you did know them, you knew they were a match made in hell. Bruises and cuts before, sure but never this bad.

From the second Barty entered the Great Hall, you were zoned in on his neck. A long blue stripe spanned across his throat, with more purple in a squarish shape. Evan was happily holding onto Barty's arm over his shoulders. They split when they reached the table, Barty coming to sit next to you and Evan across from him. Dorcas and Pandora were deep in a conversation about the way someone would go about turning into a tree. Regulus was ignoring all of you, deeply focused on his breakfast and the book in his lap. You gripped onto Barty's shoulder staring at his neck.

"Barty, what happened to your neck?" You whispered. Evan snorted across from you. You sent him a glare, assuming he was laughing at Barty.

"Belt." Barty said, reaching around you to steal a sausage off Regulus' plate.

"A belt? Barty, what? Who the hell did you get into a fight with? Who rips off their belt in the middle of a tossle? The fuck is wrong these people?" You started glancing around the Hall to see if you could find someone with a black eye or two.

"Who you looking for, baby?" Evan asked. You turned back to the table to stare at Evan. He raised an eyebrow at you. You looked between Barty's cocky grin and Evan's teasing look. The realization finally hit you, your shoulders slumping. You sighed and ripped your hand away from Barty's shoulder, wiping it off on your shirt.

"You two are filthy. Truly." Barty shrugged. Evan sneakily pulled a slice of toast off of Dorcas' plate. She continued arguing with Pandora about human trees.

"Well you can't lie, you think it's hot." Barty said, leaning in to your personal space. "Don't you, baby" You felt your ears go red. You stared at Barty's smug face. You reached up and pushed him away from you.

"No comment." Evan laughed at you.

"See that's basically a yes." Evan muttered. You shook your head.

"I think you two are disgusting little parasites. It's filthy and foul." You said, crossing your arms. Barty leaned his head on your shoulder, blinking up at you.

"I love it when you talk sexy." You shoved Barty off of you. Evan shrugged. You three went to your regular conversation over your assignments, most of which Barty didn't do and still aced the class.

In fact it wasn't until a week later they brought up their sex life to you, again. This time you shockingly hadn't fallen for their tricks. You were all piled in the boys' dorm. Dorcas, Pandora, and Marlene were all sat on Evan's bed. Marlene was painting Pandora's nails, not that she was very good at it. Dorcas had her head resting on top of Marlene's thigh, 'resting her eyes' as she said. Regulus had laid down for a nap hours ago. He had a very exhausting day, having to speak to Potter and all that. His curtains were drawn and you were glad the others had all silently agreed to stay quiet while speaking. You were sat on Barty's bed, which was next to Evan's. Barty and Evan were sitting next to you. Evan had his head rested on your shoulder, as him and Barty quietly whispered to each other. You were focused on your book, blocking out everyone's voices.

You kept your full attention on the story, the words sweeping you away into another world. Just as things were ramping up, a fight sparking between two characters, Marlene interrupted your train of thought. Her voice dragging you out of the world.

"Are you really going to let them do that next to you?" You gave her a confused look, tilting your head.

"Do what?" As you spoke you turned to look next to you. You found your boys with their tongues down each others throats. Barty had his leg thrown over Evan's lap, pushing Evan's shirt up. Evan yanked at Barty's hair. You were suddenly aware of the wet noises right next to your ear, their moans sending a chill of disgust down your spine.

"Oh! Boys, cut it out." You swatted them with your book. They broke apart sitting straight again. Evan pulled his shirt down. You noticed them both readjusting their pants, much to your dissapointment. You muttered about how nasty they were as you turned back to your book.

"Nothing was stopping you from joining, sweetheart." Evan whispered. You shuttered. You stared moved back to read where yu left off, though now you were unfocused. You could only think of the image of Barty running his nails down Evan's stomach. Evan biting down on Barty's tongue, his hand edging towards the band of Barty's pants. You kept restarting on your paragraph, trying your hardest to focus on the words. All you could think about was them. Within a second you realized your disgust was a red herring. You pretended to gag, you called them gross, you told them they were filthy rabbits, you told them to get a room, but really deep down you were...

attracted to them.

Oh god. Oh god, Oh god. You were attracted to not only your best friends, but your best friends who were dating. Not what do you do. Tell them? Have them stare at you with their 'I'm actively sitting next to my boyfriend' eyes? Ignore it? Just have them be all gross and loving and stuff in front of you all the time? You sighed deeply. It appears your best choice of action is to ignore it. You felt Evan wrap his arm around yours, using it as a pillow.

So you did ignore it, mostly. You really just stared at them wistfully as they went about loving each other and leaving the evidence of their long nights out in the open. It felt like they were taunting you with their hickeys, bruises, and kisses. Their gentle touches, showing the other they loved them, burning your own skin. They were completely clueless, just being in a happy realationship. All the while their best friend was yearning for them to touch you in the way they did each other. They did seem to catch the shift in tension. They hadn't said anything yet, but they'd share glances with each other.

Finally they did sit you down under the impression you were meeting up to get Regulus to confess his feelings. Barty held onto both your hands as he revealed that this meeting wasn't about Regulus, it was about you. Evan asked what was wrong, what was going on. You gave them both a confused look, lying and saying 'what i have no ideaaaaaa'. They both glared at you, giving you time to gather your own courage. You three sat in silence as you sucked in a deep breath.

"Okay yeah, well so basically-" You paused suddenly feeling like you should lie more to get yourself out of this terrible situation. You stared at the dormitory floor, wishing you were anywhere but Barty's bed.

"I am totally into these two hufflepuffs. I just I can't pick which one I want more. I just- It's all I can think about. And I know I've been distracted. But I will be working on focusing on my friends more. I know it must've been putting a strain on our friendship but I'm working on it." Lies, but hey why communicate when you could fib. Barty squeezed your hands. Evan sighed and rolled his eyes. So mayhaps they saw through it. Mayhaps they'll ignore it and let you slide.

"Do you genuinely think you're good at lying or do you just think we're stupid?" Evan asked. You gave him a confused look. You shook your head.

"I don't- I have no idea what you're talking about right-"

"Be serious."

"Okay so I lied. I'm a fibber. What about it?" You caved the second Barty spoke up. You had the backbone of an uncooked spaghetti noddle, but you still gave it a shot.

"Can you just tell us what's going on? You keep being weird." Evan groaned, crossing his arms. You sighed and pulled your hands out of Barty's.

"Alright fine, so maybe the Hufflepuffs were you. But maybe we don't need to talk about that or address that at all. Maybe ignoring it all was the friends we made along the way." Barty grabbed onto your hands again, Evan squatting down in front of you.

"Well, darling, have you considered that maybe we're totally into you too?" Barty asked, lightly squeezing your hands. Evan rested his hands on your knees.

"Obviously not." Evan muttered.

"Listen, the feelings are mutual. We've discovered this now. We're also sitting on a bed." Barty gestured to his sheets underneath you. Evan scoffed.

"Of course you're suggesting intercourse at a time like this." You whispered.

"You're not saying no." Evan pointed out.

"I am not, I am saying though, not now. Give me like a week or so to wrap my head around all this jazz." And with that you left to think. You retracted. You stayed quiet and ignored you friends. All of your energy put into figuring out what you wanted to do. It ended up only taking you about 3 days of silence for you to realize what you wanted to do. Which was to fuck them for a month straight, but you'd settle for a few minutes.

Within a flash of an eye you were searching for them all over the castle. You evenyually found them, sitting on the couch with Barty's head resting on Evan's shoulder. They were both decked in their pajamas, cozily curled up against each other. You stood in front of them waiting on them to look up at you. Evan did first, Barty's eyes closed. As they both stared at you, you steeled yourself.

"I know what I want." Evan nodded, giving you encouragement to finish your thought. "I want you to show me everything." They both looked at each other before standing. Evan latched onto your hand before grabbing onto Barty by the back of his shirt. Evan dragged you both up the stairs, his grip gentler on you. You were smiling the whole way up the staircase. Barty caught a glimpse of your face and blew you a kiss.

Barty moved to his bed, taking you with him. He laid down on his back and patted the mattress next to him. You sat next to him and watched him unbutton his shirt. Evan squatted down next to his bed digging under it. Barty smiled up at you pointing to his lips before puckering them. You met his demands, leaning down to him. Barty quickly buried his hand on the back of your head, tugging the hair between his fingers. You groaned into his mouth. Barty took the opertunity to slip his tongue past your lips. You felt Barty's hand leave your head, only to be replaced by another hand. Evan pulled your head back, your throat being fully exposed. Evan dipped his head down, dragging his teeth down the column of your neck. You heard Barty sigh under you both. Evan pulled back and set a shoebox on top of Barty's chest, using him a table. Evan pulled the lid off, glancing up at you to make sure your attention was on him.

"This is most of everything, babe. We're still learning what's enjoyable and what's not. I thought we'd start here. Barty is our test subject, for today. Trust me, he wont mind." Evan said. You leaned forward peering into the box. What you found wasn't really all that intresting, a belt, lube, condoms, a knife, handcuffs that looked particularly cheap, but it was more the gaurentee of what was to come, Barty. You felt a grin grow, looking up at Evan. He nodded.

"Knew you'd be curious. So here's my preposition, I'll do something and you watch. Then if you wanted to try, I could talk you through it, yeah?" You nodded excitedly at Evan. Evan removed the box from Barty, instead setting it next to you on the bed. Barty sat up and slipped his shirt off entirely, dropping it to the floor. Evan straddled Barty's hips. Barty pinned his hands underneath Evan's legs. Barty looked giddy. You sat next to them, watching them intently. Evan sighed, running his hands up and down Barty's chest.

"Barty doesn't really need much of anything, he's truly just a fuck toy. He quite enjoys choking, but the belt is really something that needs more buildup." You listened intently to Evan. You wanted to pay your full attention to Evan but he kept tweaking Barty's nipples while talking. Evan slid his hand up to Barty's throat. Evan squeezed, watching Barty's grin grow. Barty stared up at Evan. His eyes slipped away from Evan's to yours. Evan squeezed harder making Barty's eyes roll back.

"How do you know you're not hurting him, more than he wants I mean?" You asked, looking away from Barty to look at Evan. Evan smiled at you, glad you were excited to learn.

"He'll tap me three times if he wants me to stop, or he'll say 'snakes'. " Evan turned his focus back to Barty. Barty's mouth had gone slack, staring up at the ceiling. Evan looked back to you.

"Do you wanna try?" You felt a wave of warmth pass over you at the question. You nodded. You were slightly concerned that you'll do it wrong. Barty's face and Evan's muttered praises as you took Evan's place. You straddled Barty as he breathed harder, catching his breath.

You felt his bulge pressing into your leg as you settled your hands on his stomach. Evan sat where you were, next to the box, off to the side. Evan rubbed your shoulder as you traced Barty's happy trail. Evan gently grabbed the back of your hand pulling it up towards Barty's neck. You looked to Barty, uncertain that he didn't just enjoy choking because Evan was the one doing it. Barty smiled up at you, nodding eagerly. Evan pressed a kiss to your shoulder, placing your hand on Barty's throat. Evan took his hand off yours, giving you a moment to pull away if you needed. He placed his hand back on yours, squeezing on the sides.

"Squeeze him like that, yeah?" You nodded, mimicking Evan's force. Barty was smiling at you the whole time, egging you on.

"Harder. Pretty please, darling?" Barty muttered. You glanced at Evan, out of the corner of your eye. Evan nodded, reasueingly rubbing your arm. He ran his hand down to yours, showing you how to add more pressure properly. When Evan removed his hand and you took over, Barty moaned. He opened his mouth again. You wanted to lean over to Evan and ask why Barty did that but it felt mean. You were enjoying the look on Barty's face. You looked over at Evan with a growing grin. Evan smiled at you.

"Yeah?" You nodded, looking back down at Barty. You realeased your grip. Barty opened his eyes watching as your hand returned to his happy trail. Evan ignored Barty's whining, focusing on you in stead.

"What's next? You wanna pick from the box?" Evan asked. You nodded, although you were starting to feel like Evan was babying you. You leaned over Barty to look inside the box. You pulled the handcuffs out, showing them to Evan. He took the out of your hands.

"Barty, hands up." Barty raised his arms from his sides. Evan pulled the handcuffs through the top part of the headboard. You helped move Barty's hands to the handcuffs. Evan pulled Barty's wrists into them, locking the cuffs. Evan noticed the worring look on your face.

"He can get out of them if he wants to, they're actually a toy from like a random gas station in the middle of nowhere." You looked back to see Barty waving around his free hand. Evan tsked pulling Barty's hand back towards the cuffs. Barty grinned, leaving his hands above his head. He sent you a wink as you looked back into the box. Evan looked with you, curious it see what you would pull out next. You glanced over at him, meeting his eyes. He gave you an encouraging look as you reached into the shoebox. You pulled out the knife, holding the handle out to Evan. Evan smiled at you, taking the Knife out of your hands.

Now that you were actually looking at it you could tell it was less of a knife and more of a dagger. The handle and sheath was green, tiny gemstones forming flowers. If you didn't have an impatient Barty bucking his hips up into yours, you would've marveled at the beauty.

Evan pulled the sheath off the dagger, who knew a knife could get prettier with its clothes off? It was very pretty, two small slivers of space in the middle dragging from the handle down towards the tip. If you were Barty, you'd be quite excited. Evidently he was, moaning at the sound of Evan pulling the knife out of the sheath. Evan looked up at you to make sure you were paying attention before moving the dagger towards Barty. Evan gently dragged it over his skin, doing nothing more than enticing Barty.

"Pay attention, baby. You have to be gentle. You don't want to hurt him, more than usual." You followed along, watching Evan's hands. Evan placed one hand further up Barty's chest, the other one spinning the blade around. Evan pointed the tip down, pressing the metal into Barty's stomach. He dragged it down slowly, a small trail of blood following it. Barty groaned. You ignored him, focusing on Evan. Evan looked up at you as he pulled the bloody blade away, showing you the small mark he left. It was barely two inches big, off to the side. You stared at the red on the side of blade. Something deep inside you told you to lean forward and run your tongue over the blade. You didn't.

You gently took the blade out of Evan's hand. He nodded at you, whispering something about 'being good'. You didn't catch it but felt it was an inappropriate time to bring up your chronic 'huh?'-ing. You stared down at Barty, checking with him again if he was ready. Barty smiled at you, bucking his hips up. You groaned and shot your hands down to his hips. You pushed them down into the mattress.

"Sit still." You ordered, your tone biting at Barty's grin. He wanted to roll his eyes but your and Evan's wicked smiles made him reconsider. Barty stayed still, waiting. You brought the knife down towards his stomach. Off to the left side of his bellybutton closer to his hipbone. You watched Barty's reaction as you made a small cut in a downwards angle. Evan encouraged you with a kiss to your cheek as Barty whimpered underneath you. You watched the cut dribble out blood, a swam of excitement passing over your skin making you flush more. You looked up to Barty's contorted face. His eyebrows pushed up, his teeth digging into his inner cheek, eyes squeezed shut.

"Good?" You muttered, patting his face. Barty opened his eyes, looking up at your concerned face. You saw tears swelling in his waterline. He nodded egearly, flashing his teeth to settle your worries.

You pulled back, looking back at the cut you made. It was smaller than Evan's on Barty's other hip. You glanced over at that one to compare the two. Just to make sure you were doing it right. You noticed a scar under Evan's cut. It was two letters, ER made out of small cuts. You glanced over at Evan to see his cocky grin. He raised an eyebrow at you. You turned back to your cut, deciding you'd make a similar mark. Although you expected it to only last for tonight, a wand's flick and it's gone. You pressed the blade to the end of the last cut, pulling it up. Barty whined again, tugging at his cuffs.

You pulled the blade back admiring your downward pointing arrow. You stared at the blood making a mess on Barty's skin. You checked on Evan, finding him watching the blade with all the intensity of a man watching his best friend butcher his boyfriend. Consensually, of course. You glanced at Barty's face, seeing his tears rolling down his cheeks in a mess. He seemed to sense your concern immediately speaking to you.

"Good. 's good. So good, please keep going, please." His words pushed against each other, mixing together from his desperation. You focused back on his side, wiping away some of blood that was obstructing your view. You made 4 more cuts, turning the downward arrow into a small heart. With each stroke of your hands, Barty let out a whine. Evan started to coo at Barty, the longer you spent at his hip. Evan leaned towards Barty's face, brushing his hair away from his sweaty forehead. Evan muttered to Barty degradation in his soft tone.

It was quite confusing, his tone made it sound nice but when you focused on Evan's words you felt sick to your stomach. When you finally pulled back from Barty's hip there was a lovely little heart on the opposite side of Evan's initials. You looked up to see Barty's face wet with his tears and his eyes red. You creened, leaning forward to kiss Barty's wet cheeks.

"You're such a good boy, Barty. I'm so proud of you, doing such a good job for us." You muttered in his ear as Evan called him a slut in the other. Barty whined at the contrasting words. You pulled back from his face, looking down at the heart. The surrounding area was red with blood and flushed pain. You met Evan's eyes. He left a kiss on Barty's cheekbone before leaning towards you. He stared down at the heart, complimenting your good work. While you enjoyed how the cuts had effected Barty, his bulge pressing into your inner thigh desperately hard, you liked seeing his blood more. You wanted to lick Barty's stomach clean. You stared at Evan. He looked at you confused.

"Can I lick it?" You muttered, scared to ask much louder than a breath. Evan stared at you for a second as a grin that would make Voldemort himself quiver with fear. He gave you a small nod. You looked to Barty, his chest was heaving, his eyes still red and his arms still held tightly above his head. He nodded aggressively, trying to get his message across as fast as possible.

"Do it." Barty whispered. Evan tsked at Barty.

"Manners, Barty. Be nice to our quest." Evan chided Barty, pushing his hair back again. Barty nodded against Evan's hand.

"I'll be good. I'll be good, I promise. Rosie, I promise." Barty whined, his words mashing together again. You ignored Evan's coos as you dropped your head to Barty's hip. You tentatively swiped the tip of your tongue over a small drop of blood away from the cuts. You heard Barty moan as your eyes rolled back from his metallic taste. You were no longer taking small steps, he was too good to not spoil. You flattened your tongue out licking up every drop of Barty's blood. Loud moans rolled off Barty's tongue as you continued your work. You loved the extreme intimacy of it, also the bloody taste but that's a separate matter.

You felt Evan's hand met the back of your head again, pulling your face away from Barty's stomach. His eyes snagged on the dark shadow smeared over the bottom half of your face.

He always scolded you for being a messy eater. Evan never considered he'd find your freaky grin splattered with his boyfriend's blood so attractive. The room had gotten darker somewhere between choking Barty and now, though you weren't sure when too focused on Barty and Evan.

So no Evan couldn't see the exact shade of red on your face but he could still taste the copper on your lips. Barty told Evan he was a messy kisser, clacking teeth and sloppily slipping his tongue into Barty's mouth. But Barty had never seen Evan like this.

Evan was swiping his tongue everywhere but your mouth it seemed. He was rabid, more than usual. Evan was messily and harshly kissing you, his hand holding onto your hair tightly. Evan was moaning into your lips as he tried to get more of the coppery taste of Barty's blood in his mouth. Evan liked the taste the Barty, but he thinks he might like the taste of Barty more when he takes it from your mouth.

You pulled back from the kiss, dropping to Barty's hip again. You swiped your mouth over the surrounding area of Barty's cuts, occasionally tracing the lines with the tip of your tongue. The feeling of warmth from your mouth around his wounds made Barty wail in pleasure. He wanted to yank at your hair as much as Evan already has.

Barty pulled at the cuffs above his head. You lifted your head, looking up at Barty. He understood why Evan pounced on you like that before. The sight of his blood smeared across your mouth made him want to kiss it off like Evan already had. You leaned in towards Barty's face. Barty could smell the copper on you as you tilted your head. Barty learched his head forward, colliding his lips with yours.

He moaned at the taste of his own blood invading his mouth. Evan rubbed your back as he moved behind you. You nipped at Barty's bottom lip. He messily tried to lick at the blood around your mouth as he kissed you. You pulled away from his lips, sliding down to his neck. You swirled your tongue around him as you dragged your teeth over his skin.

Barty moaned, yanking at the cuffs holding his arms up again. You slid your free hand up Barty's throat, over his chin, and to his mouth. You slipped two of your fingers past his lips. Barty reacted instantly, swiping his tongue over your fingertips. You could feel the blood on your face smearing onto Barty's neck as you made yet another hickey. You pulled back letting his skin go. Evan helped you sit up straight, holding on to you by your waist. You pointed the tip of the dagger at Barty, making him whimper around your fingers.

"You'll be a good little slut and listen to us, won't you?" Your tone was edging on pity. Barty nodded, his movement restrained by your fingers pressing into his tongue. Evan pulled his chin over your shoulder, pressing his lips to your ear.

"You're doing good. Do you want me to show you the belt now?" You grinned as you nodded. Evan lightly kissed you before focusing back on the box. He plucked the dagger from your hands, much to your disappointment. You pulled your hand away from Barty's mouth back to his chest. Evan put the knife back it's rightful sheath before taking the belt out from the box. He tapped Barty's chin. Barty lifted his head up. Evan slid the belt behind Barty's head. He glanced at you as he slipped the end through the buckle and pulled. It wasn't tight enough to squeeze Barty yet but it was close enough that it wouldn't slip off. Evan held the end of the belt out towards you. You took it, still straddling Barty's hips. Evan moved behind you, running his hands up and down your back as he whispered to you.

"Now pull." You listened to Evan, yanking on the strap. The leather around Barty's neck tightened as his jaw went slack.

"Good. Tighter." You turned your head, looking back at Evan. He gave you a nod. You pulled on the end of the belt again, this time gentler. Barty's eyes rolled back before he refocused on staring at you. He looked like he was going to cry again. Evan hummed running his hands around from your back to your stomach.

"Release it." You loosened your grip on the strap. The belt around Barty's throat quickly loosened as he sucked in a breath. Barty's chest heaved up and down as he caught up with his lungs. Evan nodded against your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. After Barty finally evened his breaths Evan whispered to you again.

"Again. Pull." You stared into Barty's eyes as you pulled again, this time getting the right tightness on the first try. Barty let out a strangled groan. You watched Barty's face as Evan's hands traveled upwards. Your shirt gathered around his wrists as Evan moved his hands up towards your nipples. Evan pressed a kiss to your temple.

"Release." You let the end of the belt slide through your hands. Barty gasped as his breath returned. Evan nodded. As Evan gave you his repetitive instructions, you found the pace of the pulling and releasing. You were able to torment Barty's airway without Evan's instruction. Evan seemed to be quite proud of this, kissing along the curve of your neck. Barty was enjoying this more than the two of you combined, his eyes rolling back and moans slipping past his lips everytime you tightened the belt.

You liked it. A lot. You liked watching the belt dig into Barty's skin. You liked his moans. You liked his erection pressing against your leg. You liked how he left his life in your hands with the hope for pleasure. You liked how Barty's moans encouraged Evan to roll your nipples between his fingers and suck harder on your neck. You liked how Evan's motions made you grind down on Barty's lap, making Barty groan. Starting the cycle all over again.

You kept your pace with the belt, giving Barty time to catch his breath and not die. You leaned back against Evan's chest. You pulled your arm back, resting your hand on the back of Evan's head. You watched Barty's eyes focus on you again, staring at Evan's hand as it slid down your chest. You yanked on the belt again. Barty tilted his head back, whimpering loudly. Your hips moved on their own, grinding down on Barty again.

Evan groaned in your ear, dipping his hand down to the waistband of your pants. You shook your head against Evan, dropping your hand from his hair to the back of his hand. You dragged his fingers back to your chest. Evan easily accepted this, going back to tweaking your nipples. You keep pulling and releasing the belt while you bucked your hips against Barty's. His pajama pants were thin, which made it all the more exciting. You released the belt again, giving Barty time to catch up with the world again. Evan pulled his chin over your shoulder to stare down at Barty.

"You're loving all the attention, aren't you? You're such a pathetic fucking cumslut." Evan mocked Barty's moans, as Barty yanked at his handcuffs again. Just as Barty was about to bite a quip back to Evan, you yanked on the end of the belt. The leather dug into the skin of Barty's neck. You realized now why Barty's neck was always bruised, he talked too much. Evan chuckled. His laugh vibrated through you, his chest pressed against your back.

"Look at you, learning so well. Shutting Barty up like that, I'm proud of you." Evan whispered, his lips pressing against your ear. Your grip on the belt faultered from your shiver. Barty let in a fast breath. Evan tsked next to you, holding onto your hand with his. He tightened the belt, pecking your jaw.

Evan turned his attention back to your nipples, as you focused back on grinding down onto Barty's lap. You picked but the pace of tightening and releasing easily. As Barty started to get more desperate, bucking his hips up, you quickened the pace. Evan licked up your neck, nipping under your chin. You moaned, dropping your head back on Evan's shoulder. Through the split seconds of peace, Barty liked the image of you grinding against him with his boyfriend sucking at your neck.

Your tightest squeeze around his neck, coupled with your loudest moan from Evan, was what pushed Barty over the edge. Wetting his boxers and thin pajama pants. His head was light from the lack of air and the heavy pleasure. You dropped the tail end of the belt, giving all your attention to Evan. You pulled him back from your neck, meeting his lips feveriously.

Barty watched you both intently as he ignored the feeling of his underwear sticking to him. You nipped at Evans bottom lip as he slipped his tongue past your lips. You dragged your teeth over it, before pulling back to stare down at Barty with a mocking look.

"Awe did our little whore cum in his pants? All untouched. Pitiful." You mocked his blissed outface. Barty lolled his head to the side, letting it rest on his bicep. You gently dragged your finger over his happy trail. Evan moved out from behind you, sitting next to Barty's tired body. You traced around the little heart by Barty's hip. Barty let out a whimper, nuzzling his face against Evan's hand.

"Yeah? Baby's tired?" Evan said, in a high pitched voice you'd used on a dog with a broken leg. Barty made a pathetic noise, nodding his head. You gently slipped your fingers between Barty's bruised neck and the leather belt. You pulled, slipping the belt off of him. Barty closed his eyes, leaning further towards Evan. Evan reached up to the headboard, releasing Barty's wrists. Barty dropped his arms, if you didn't know better you'd mock him for his broken marionette position. You rolled the belt up, gently placing it in the box. You held your hand out for the handcuffs from Evan, dropping those into the box as well.

You helped Evan, help Barty up onto his feet. You both gently lead Barty to the bathroom, taking the box with you.

When you three entered, turning on the light, you looked to the mirror. You found your face was still tinted red from Barty, as long as your hands. You looked over Evan. He had a red tint too, spefically over his lips, you wondered if he'd still taste like copper. Barty was the worst of all, he looked like he tried to make great friends with a bear. His neck would most definitely be bruising, his hair was sweaty and pointing in odd directions, his own blood smeared and dried around his bottom lip and down his throat. He had a smile on though, gazing at you both with loving eyes.

Evan turned both bathtub knobs to the max, dipping his hand under the water before tinkering with the temperature.

"Oh, Evan Darling, where is your wand?" Evan gestured to his bed, helping Barty step out of his now soaked pants. You quickly fetched it before handing it over to Evan. Evan pointed the tip at Barty's stomach. Barty grumbled, yanking the wand out of Evan's hands.

"I want the scar. It's a little heart, how could I not love it?" Evan hummed at Barty's bargaining. Evan glanced over at you. You shrugged and held your hands up, instead focusing on making a warm bubble bath for Barty.

"I suppose." Evan muttered. You know if Barty had access to all of his Barty brain he'd 'yippee' though now you settled from his little sigh of triumph. Evan pointed his wand back at Barty's cuts, quickly scaring over them like they've been there for years. Barty smiled happily running his fingers over the new heart scar. Evan turned back to you, finding the bath dyed acid green and a pile of bubbles on top. Evan gave you a grimace. You scoffed at him, latching on to Barty's hand.

"Have you never heard of fun? Whimsy? Joy and all things nice? Party pooper." You muttered as you helped Barty into the bath. Barty grinned up at Evan.

"It's great. Love, love, love green." Evan rolled his eyes at Barty. You both assisted Barty through his bathing routine, praising him for how well he did tonight. Evan focused mainly on Barty's hair routine as you whispered to Barty appreciation for his hard work. You switched roles when it came to washing Barty's body.

You worked on the stains, being gentle to his bruises. Evan's praises made Barty hide his face in your arm, as you rinsed him off.

As you drained the tub Evan set out pajamas for Barty on the sink counter. You helped dry off Barty. You asked if he wanted to blow dry his hair, Barty said it was 'too mother fucking loud'. Evan dressed Barty, sealing his new outfit with a peck to Barty's cheek. Barty hopped up on the counter, watching as Evan wiped your face clean. You cleaned his chin with the same wet rag.

Then you three brushed your teeth, Barty trying to fight you over the sink territory. You did not amuse him, rolling your eyes at him and moving to Evan's sink. Barty tucked himself into Evan's bed. Evan washed off the dagger in his sink as you scrubbed under your nails.

"Are you guys going to come give me love or just stand in the bathroom all day." Barty yelled across the room into the bathroom. Evan scoffed and wiped the knife off with a towel. Evan leaned his head out the bathroom door.

"Barty, respectfully, shut your fucking mouth." Evan turned back to the dagger, sheathing it and putting back in its place.

"Make me, bitch." Evan stared up at the ceiling when Barty's voice chimed again. You continued to run the tiny brush under your nails as you stood in the bathroom door frame.

"We're almost done, Baby. Just be patient." You said towards the Barty shaped pile of blankets. You moved back to the sink, rinsing the suds off. Evan closed the shoebox, flicking his wand at it. The box flew out the bathroom and tucked itself under Evan's bed, as you assumed.

"I'm no good at that." Barty said, although it was muffled from the 900 blankets stacked on top of him. Evan kissed your cheek, smiling at your now unstained hands.

"We can tell." Evan muttered. Evan turned the bathroom light off on his way out. He dragged you towards his bed, pointing at the mattress.

"I heard that."

"I know." Evan rolled his eyes as he walked over to Barty's bed. You tucked yourself into Evan's bed. Barty quickly snuggled up against you, wrapping his arms around you, squeezing tightly. He intertwined your legs.

"Alright give me a little oxygen." You whispered. Barty grumbled, loosening his grip. You glanced over at Evan watching him swish his wand at the mattress. He came back muttering about clean sheets. Evan spooned Barty, reaching over him to hold your hand. Barty fell asleep first, snoring loudly. You were next, falling asleep feeling Evan press a peck to your temple.

Part two

#rosekiller x reader #evan rosier #evan rosier x reader #evan rosier x barty crouch jr #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #barty x evan #barty x reader #barty crouch jr x reader #rosekiller #the marauders era #the maraunders map #marauders era #marauders #the marauders #dead gay wizards #evan x barty #evan x reader #yeah okay

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thosemotivationalquotes · 26 days ago

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Understanding Election Results

I wanted to make this guide for people who are following the upcoming U.S. election, but are unsure of how votes are actually counted, since it’s not just a simple majority vote.

The U.S. uses something called the Electoral College, which is different than a majority vote.

There are 2 kinds of votes that matter when determining who the winner of the presidential election is. The popular vote, and the electoral vote. The popular vote is the simple majority - whoever gets the most votes win. However, the U.S. doesn’t actually use the popular vote to determine the winner.

This brings us to the electoral votes. Each state gets assigned electors, the amount of which is decided by the state’s population (for example, AZ has 11 electors). Each state takes whichever candidate received the most votes, and casts its electoral votes for that person.

For example, if Harris has 55% of the AZ votes, she gets 11 electoral votes. Whichever candidate reaches 270 votes (the majority) will be the next president.

This is why ‘swing states’ are so important. The popular vote for the state might be neck and neck, but whoever has the most votes gets all the electoral votes for the state. It’s also possible for someone to win the popular vote, but lose the election (Clinton in 2016).

So what does that mean for this election? Take a look at the below map from 270towin:

As we can see, Harris is currently at a predicted 226 electoral votes, with 191 being considered safe. It will come down to the leans and toss up states to decide if she will get enough votes to win. Any state can flip with enough votes, so it’s important to vote no matter how “safe” your state appears to be.

It’s important to vote even if you live in the safely blue states, but it’s especially important to vote if you live in a lean or toss up state. I live in AZ and got to see our state go from red to blue in 2020, so it possible IF people show up and vote.

You’ll also see states being “called”. This means that there are enough votes to make the conclusion that one of the candidates has won the electoral votes for that state. States like CA usually get called fairly early since there are usually an overwhelming amount of blue votes. But a swing state like AZ might be “too close to call” until a few days after the election, while they count any last minute mail in ballots and provisional ballots. A state being “called” on election night does not mean they stop counting the votes, just that there is enough confidence to state who has won that state.

Also a final note, your mental health is super important. If you have already voted, or if you are unable to vote, watching the election results will not change the outcome. If you are stressed to the point you are having anxiety, not eating, missing work/school, etc., please don’t feel like you have watch the election results. We probably won’t know the winner until at least the next day, maybe even a few days after that. If Trump wins he won’t take office for a couple months. So if you need to, take a step back and just focus on getting through the day.

Some states have same day registration, so if you didn’t register check here to see if there is still a chance.

I have voting resources here for anyone voting today:

#voting #us politics #us government #united states #election 2024 #democrat #politics #kamala harris #vote blue #tim walz #vote harris #uspol #us elections #presidential election

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iambic-stan · 22 days ago

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The Day After

Ugh, I'm so depressed and needed this escapism.

Why did I allow myself to have hope, I wondered, tossing around the last few sips of my drink at the bottom of the glass. Brooks & Dunn's "Neon Moon" was playing quietly. The bright pink lights over the bar and emptiness of the room created just the right ambiance for me to cover myself in melancholy. Living in a red state, I had to find myself a gay bar to sulk at, even if I'd never patronized this one before. Anywhere else, I risked witnessing people celebrating. It was just the day after and nothing else felt remotely safe--physically or emotionally.

I guessed the bar was really only empty because it was 8:00 p.m., not because everyone queer was hiding at home. I simultaneously wanted to be alone but also wanted someone to talk to, even if it was just venting. Or they just vented to me. I didn't think I could stand to talk about anything else as if it was just another day instead of Day 1 of a jarring acceleration to the death of democracy as we all knew it. There was a hurricane in the Gulf. I had a class to teach the next day. Chappell Roan sang a new song on Saturday Night Live. They'd just released a new teaser trailer for season 5 of Stranger Things. Quincy Jones died a couple of days ago. But who the fuck could care? Maybe I would've said as much to the bartender, but he was outside for a smoke break.

My head was buried in my phone and I was doom scrolling when a voice I knew but didn't said, "Come on, twink--you're at the Pink Pony Club but you're not dancing!" and laughed obnoxiously. My head popped up and I took in the heavy clown makeup, boat-neck lime green dress and Fifth Element wig with so much volume you could hide a family of rats in it. I blinked several times. The blinking helped lubricate my eyes with the tears that had settled in them but I still couldn't believe what I was seeing.

"Yes--it's me, Bianca Del Rio," she continued. "For once, I'm not the biggest bitch around. I take it you heard that over 70 million Americans put the 'cunt' in 'country' yesterday. They make me look like fucking Mother Teresa, hahaha! Just kidding--she was actually kind of a cunt, too--read the Christopher Hitchens book. Oh fuck I almost forgot--I don't read! Now where is the bartender who gave you that martini you're drowning your sorrows in? No one wants to work anymore, you know?"

"I love you," I choked out. Well that was embarrassing. In a sense, it was true--I was obsessed with Bianca Del Rio and had met her at a show in El Paso--a moment I had replayed in my mind dozens of times though she surely didn't remember it. She met more people than anyone could remember. But also, Bianca Del Rio was not a real person but a drag persona, and I didn't know the man behind her personally, so I couldn't really love either one. But I was shocked, angry, and sad and my social filter was malfunctioning.

"Oh, that's the booze talking," she dismissed, waving her lemon yellow nails at me. "What are you so down about, white man? Didn't buy what he was selling? My whole family's getting deported tomorrow. But Trump does love white men, almost as much as he loves grabbing 'em by the pussy. But maybe you've realized that being white won't help you when people find out you're sticking your dick in some other man's ass."

"I have a vagina," I said, as though it was any of Bianca's (or Roy's) business. I looked at her face to see the recognition, but it didn't appear to be anything she hadn't heard before, so I kept going.

"So if some asshole rapes and impregnates me, I have to scrape together the money to travel several states over for an abortion...if that's still legal. But it's not just that...it's everything. It's worrying about Obergefell v. Hodges being overturned, the tariff proposals, Ukraine, climate change....the continual funding of Israel..."

She sat down at the bar next to me, nodding solemnly. Slowly, her demeanor changed and I guessed she was slipping out of character, which, even in my despair, melted my heart because she was just so adorable. She reached out and touched my hand, and I took hold of hers. It was so incredibly soft--I wanted to ask if she used some expensive creams, and I never wanted to let go of it. "You're so beautiful," I said, remembering I had said the same thing that night in El Paso.

She jerked her phone out of her purse and said, "Let me get you my ophthalmologist's number, because clearly you can't see a GODDAMN THING!" I let out a laugh. "There it is!" she said, pointing at me. "I made you laugh. And your name is?"

"Sebastian."

I had barely uttered the last syllable when she retorted, "Faggot," which made me chuckle again in spite of myself.

"Listen, Fag--I mean Sebastian, this is a pretty nice bar--maybe you should go out more and talk to people instead of moping about your useless vote in a sea of red, huh? I try to visit this place whenever I'm in town, though not normally this early. But this way I get to chat with a loser like you and feel better about my pathetic self, you know? And the coming years look bleak, but think about it this way--we'll all die anyway! There's no way out except under...the ground. We're only particles of change orbiting around the sun. That was poetic, right? It wasn't me, though--that was Joni Mitchell."

"I know!" I said, getting a bit excited. "From 'Hejira.' I love that song, and the album."

The bartender walked back in, looking unfazed that a celebrity was sitting next to me. He and Bianca nodded in some unspoken language at one another and he started to make what I guessed was her usual drink.

"What else do you love, Sebastian?" she asked, with a smile that looked quite sincere but comical at the same time with the exaggerated fuschia lip and raccoon eyes.

"Oh, I love heartbeats," I blurted out. Really? I thought. Couldn't go with chai lattes or Cher? Had to go straight to cardiophilia?

"Guess we kind of need them," she said sarcastically.

"Sorry I'm being so weird. I'm a HUGE fan. I just meant I love listening to heartbeats, and having mine listened to. Wow. I can't believe I told you that. Like, I have a stethoscope collection. It's a thing."

When she raised her eyebrows a bit, I knew she'd never heard of this before, which made me feel embarrassed. But she didn't say anything unkind; she just listened.

"Do you want to listen to my heart?" she asked, as the bartender handed her a martini. My eyes traveled to her chest and I watched it rise with an intake of breath. I thought about how strange it was to be so attracted to someone whose public image was meant to be ridiculous rather than sexy. But I still pictured her smile and played the same bits from The Pit Stop in my head whenever I couldn't sleep. I had imagined her heartbeat many, many times.

Bianca didn't wait for a response before opening her arms. "It's nice to meet you again," she said as I leaned toward her, my head landing on her chest just above the collar of her dress. At once I heard the heart of the man behind this larger-than-life queen, thumping loudly--yet slowly and steadily. I focused on his relaxed breathing, tried to allow it to calm my own. I was near Erb's point and could hear every second heart sound clearly, and it was musical. For a moment I forgot why I was so distraught. When I remembered, I let out a long sigh, but I kept my arms wrapped around his waist and listened as long as I could. I knew none of this would be fixed overnight, and maybe some of it never could be fixed. But I had this night, and for now, that would have to do.

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aoitakumi8148 · 7 months ago

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...I'm on my knees, waiting for the sound... So lift me up, I'll never let you down...

[v.1-v.6] Some gaps left to fill in ✏/✏

𝐼𝓉 𝒟𝑜𝑒𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉 𝒲𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝑀𝑒 𝐼𝒻... 𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝐼𝓉 𝒟𝑜𝑒𝓈 𝒲𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝑀𝑒 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉...

The Creator someway lifts the GC [not for 𝟙, many]. The Workshop Tower Stalkers/The Venigni Works... ✒ Do not appear to pay proper attention to monitoring the regulations intended to ‘rectify puppets’. ✒ Lorenzini is fully credited for a few innovations he is not supposed to: ☒ The Grand Covenant. ☒ The Landmark Guide [prepared by Medoro]. 𝒫.𝒮. ‘Self-presentation’-eccentricity as a ‘coping mechanism’ due to the parents murder, I assume.

Romeo ‘designed’ as the KOP is originally a ‘red herring’. He is bold enough to... ✒ Address a puppet with a familiar face by a familiar but false name, time after time. 𝒫.𝒮. Which is understandable, all things considered [at least I pretend it is]. ✒ Attempt to ‘open the boy's eyes’ x convert him into a ‘follower’. 𝒫.𝒮. Give me a fable this unwilling ‘leader position’ does not turn out to be at all beneficial. ✒ Induce 1 to view his closest soul as ‘the real enemy’. 𝒫.𝒮. Give me a fable you remember Carlo, but not who his Father is.

Manus is able to read minds. He seemingly suggests that... ✒ A randomly captured fragment of thought is a sufficient ground to draw conclusions about sorts. 𝒫.𝒮. With the context-details excluded, it isn't worth a hill of beans.

Venigni is afraid of ‘another Arlecchino’. The man ‘misuses this trump card’... ✒ To prove both the ‘culpability’ of the 𝕏 he marks ‘the culprit’ & the necessity of the 𝟜. The issue is... ✒ These shall contain those who ‘cannot handle their Ego’ [as Lorenzini calls it]. ✒ Yet they also deprive puppets of the possibilities to: ☒ Regain the forgotten memories. ☒ ‘Awake’ some new personality [with/without any ‘antisocial tendencies’]. 𝒫.𝒮. Naturally ~ no measure ‘goes unpaid’, the ‘greater good’ isn't for everybody.

Sofia expects 𝓟 to take his human shape. She keeps beating around the bush... ✒ ‘Acting’ like a parent I have not ever asked for. ✒ ‘Singing’ about ‘saving’ the place x ‘supporting’ the 𝓟uppet's ‘choices’ x ‘staying’ with him ‘forever’. 𝒫.𝒮. A ‘saint goddess’ whose powers, however, leave her utterly oblivious to what life and future I seek.

It is fine if I'm gone... but it pains me tormentingly to see a sweet but strange organism beside you, to feel the cooling blood on my skin, to imagine what we could have become. it is painful to know for sure: no matter how passionate this ardor is, I cannot jump at the dearest neck, I cannot preserve neither our intimate comparability nor the ‹chemical wave›.

There's no pain I wouldn't go through to keep you save & sound... No pain stronger than accepting the words of thanks covered by your ‹red liquid›, listening to the happy tales of ‹fortune›/‹healing›... when the human more precious than me, keeping me on my feet ~ has stopped breathing. It is not the Creator who ‹brings it on himself›, it is our shared burden of...

#Aoi Takumi #blog #my gifs #NEOWIZ #ROUND8 STUDIO #Lies Of P 2023 #Lies Of P #2023 #game #NG+#Winter Holiday Edition #license version #v.5 #PC #/#kissing you over and over... over and over #~#...pierce me with the Giant Scissor Blade... or don't let anyone pretend everything is ever going to be okay...#*𝗮 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝘂𝘀𝘁...#𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗲𝘁 ��𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝗹𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘂𝗻𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗻...#𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝘆𝗽𝗼𝗰𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗻...#𝗮 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗮𝗺𝗲*#-identify- me as a -potential victim- /#~ deceive me into the belief it's a lie... that I'm but mistaken... slow down the tears I've been wiping for so long... normalize the...

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cksmart-world · 1 year ago

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SMART BOMB

The Completely Unnecessary News Analysis

By Christopher Smart

November 21, 2023

MAN BUNS DESTROYING CIVILIZATION

Hey Wilson, have you seen any man buns around lately. It's the new thing for hipsters and cool cats. But the staff here at Smart Bomb can't figure out why it's called a man bun because it looks just like a woman bun. Either men are wearing woman buns or women are wearing man buns. It's the weirdest thing. Maybe it is like the '60s when guys grew their hair long and got beat up in bars. Man buns are one of those fashion things like pierced noses that kinda stand out. In times gone by bullfighters would wear small, little buns just above their neck as part of their elaborate costumes that included pink stocking and garter belts. We are not making this up. But most hipsters don't wear pink stockings and garter belts. They wear v-neck tees and skinny jeans and big boots and carry leather jackets. And their man buns are destroying civilization, says Caroline D'Agati, writing in The Federalist. The man bun “has become the petty rebellion of millennial men who refuse to grow up and buy into society.” So dig this, you can now buy clip-on man buns. One ad says: For one “Who Wears Many Hats, but No Bun.” So hey, you're going to a trendy bar, so you clip on your man-bun so the chicks will dig you. Caution: if you do get lucky be careful or you could be exposed as a bun poseur. Shit.

SUPREME COURT: HERE'S OUR ETHICS CODE — SO SHUT UP

The justices, for the first time in history have set down an ethics code for the high court. It had nothing to do with a slew of news reports that some of them had differing views of disclosure, undue influence, currying favor, bribery and gifts. Here are the high points of the new code:

Don't take lavish vacations from billionaires unless you really need to get away to Monaco, the Riviera or Fiji.

Don't accept gifts, like $250,000 motor homes, unless you really crave road trips.

If you took a lavish trip paid by a billionaire friend who later came before the court, you should recuse yourself unless you want to repay the favor.

When hanging out with billionaires at their posh estates make sure you don't end up on Instagram or Facebook.

If a weird conspiracy group pays your wife a lot of money and then submits a legal brief to the court, just say you didn't know about it because you don't talk to your wife.

Report all gifts except food, lodging, entertainment, travel, diamond rings or pendants, houses for relatives, vehicles and country club memberships.

There, that should satisfy all those nasty critics and reinforce the notion that the Supreme Court is above reproach. God bless America.

THE PIED PIPER OF VERMIN

Well Wilson, the vermin must be getting nervous now that The Once and Future King vowed to “root out” those slimy “communists, Marxists, fascists and the radical left thugs that live like vermin within the confines of our country... ” According to Merriam Webster vermin are “small common harmful or objectionable animals (such as lice or fleas) that are difficult to control.” Trump's threat scared the bejusus out of just about everyone who doesn't wear a MAGA cap. That's because “vermin” is what Adolf Hitler and Benito Mussolini called Jews, Poles, Communists, and others they wanted to eliminate. Of course The Great Orange One knows this, but he is pissed off big time. Listen to this: “I would like to see (New York Attorney General) Letitia James and Judge Engoron (who presides over Trump's $250 million fraud trial) placed under citizens arrest for blatant election interference and harassment.” That's a green light for MAGAites to take law into their own hands. What's screwy is that most of the rest of Republicans want Trump back at the White House, too. And there's no reason he can't be president from prison, they say, although they don't have Big Macs there. He's the Pied Piper of the GOP and he loves to throw them red meat. Who are the vermin, really.

Post script — That's a wrap for another week here at Smart Bomb where we keep track of hippos in Colombia so you don't have to. As you may suspect the huge beasts are not indigenous to South America or anywhere in the Americas, period. But the late drug kingpin Pablo Escobar brought four of them to his vast estate, Hacienda Nápoles, in the 1980s. Now 30 years after Escobar's death 170 of the voracious herbivores are roaming around endangering the local ecosystem, displacing other animals and munching down plants species. Biologists say their population could grow to 1,000 by 2035. What to do? Colombian officials say they are going to surgically sterilize them — a tricky undertaking since they weigh up to three tons. Good luck with that. Closer to home, Hogle Zoo in Salt Lake City has lost its African Elephants to Kansas City and the National Zoo in Washington, D.C. had to return three giant pandas to China. That's sad but we know where they can get a good deal on some hippos. Speaking of huge, dangerous animals, Donald Trump bragged in Iowa recently that he had a disease named after him. Trump Derangement Syndrome is a derogatory term aimed at people who criticize Trump. “It's quite an honor,” he boasted. Very presidential, indeed.

It's getting scary out there, Wilson. Trump is giving the green light to the MAGA brown shirts. Antisemitism is on the rise as is Islamophobia. Fear and loathing are in the air. We're still a year out from the 2024 election and the sabers are rattling like thunder. You and the guys in the band must have an anthem for this mean, crazy time. So hit it, Wilson:

I see the bad moon a-rising I see trouble on the way I see earthquakes and lightning I see bad times today Don't go around tonight Well, it's bound to take your life There's a bad moon on the rise I hear hurricanes a-blowing I know the end is coming soon I fear rivers overflowing I hear the voice of rage and ruin Don't go around tonight Well, it's bound to take your life There's a bad moon on the rise Hope you got your things together Hope you are quite prepared to die Looks like we're in for nasty weather One eye is taken for an eye Well, don't go around tonight Well, it's bound to take your life There's a bad moon on the rise Don't come around tonight Well, it's bound to take your life There's a bad moon on the rise

(Bad Moon Rising — Credence Clearwater Revival)

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keywestlou · 2 years ago

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Kissing

Kissing - https://keywestlou.com/kissing-4/Kissing has its moments. A pleasant experience. Quiet enjoyable. Romantic kissing has had its detractors, however. Referred to occasionally as "kissing killjoys." The biggest romantic kissing killjoys are the Christians. Sex has always had an evil connotation of sorts in the Catholic Church. Pope Clement V in 1312 decreed sensuous kissing a mortal sin. "...kissing done with intent to fornicate is...a mortal sin." From Pope Clement V forward, the Catholic Church sought to ban romantic kissing. Just as some Christians of today would ban pleasurable sex. The ban did not fly with the people. If anything, it gained in popularity. May the pleasure always be with us. What a game last night! The National College Championship game. TCU v. Georgia. Georgia crushed TCU 65-7. The #2 team in the country TCU was no competition for the #1. This is Georgia's second consecutive year in winning the title of National Champions. Stetson Bennett was Georgia's quarterback. "Tom Brady" in every respect. I mentioned my trip to Club Med 47 years ago in yesterday's blog. The trip was spur of the moment on my part. I was elsewhere and had no Caribbean beach clothes with me. My intent was to purchase a summer/beach wardrobe at Club Med. It was not necessary. Forty or fifty years ago, mu mu's were a popular female attire in the U.S. Long large billowy gowns. Neck to foot. Upon arriving at Club Med, I discovered that is what everyone wore when not in a bathing suit. Males and females alike. I purchased two. One multi blue, the other multi red. Plus a pair of sandals. I had none. I was set for the week. Most went with nothing on beneath the mu mu. The mu mu was morning, afternoon and evening attire. It was quite a trip. Two former Florida Keys residents on the agenda this morning. First, Ted Williams. One of America's greatest baseball players. Williams had a home in Islamorada. While a star player and for many years after in retirement. Williams was an avid fisherman. Islamorada is known as the Sport Fishing Capital of the World. Therein the reason Williams settled there. His home located bayside at mile marker 82. He finally sold. The reason for selling a sad one. He said he sold when Islamorada became so busy he had to wait for traffic to subside before he could cross U.S. 1. The other Williams is Tennessee Williams. A Key West resident for some 40 odd years. Few are aware the noted writer became a Catholic while living in Key West. He was baptized a Catholic at St. Mary's Star of the Sea Church where he became a regular communicant. Kevin McCarthy got beyond his first possible hurdle last night when the House accepted the Rules the Republicans would be governed by. The same Rules whereby McCarthy sold his soul in order to be elected Speaker. Rules that in due course may bring him down. I thought he would not get the necessary votes last night. He did. Only one Republican voted in opposition. Mar-a-Lago is Tammany Hall reincarnated. It seems to be working hard to become a Mafia headquarters. Some are labeling it fascist. DeSantis' Florida being labeled fascist leaning by some also. Former Brazilian President Bolsonaro is living in the Orlando area. Sunday, Brazil had a January 6. Bolsonaro and Trump birds of a feather. Bolsonaro got into the U.S. on a "Head of State" visa. He is no longer head of any state. Therefore the validity of his visa is in doubt. Bolsonaro entered an Orlando hospital sunday or monday assuming because of what was happening in his country. It is felt he is involved. He was released yesterday. His complaint was an old stabbing wound acting up. The U.S. government has taken no position on his legal status. Enjoy your day!

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okarawrites · 4 years ago

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Heyyyy, love your writing. I always get pretty giddy when I see a new update from you! Was wondering if I could request a RenoXReader with a date night planned, both dressed to the nines but the outfits kind of lead to them not being able to get out of the kitchen. The smuttier, the better. Much love xoxo

The smuttier the better you say??? challenge accepted! Also thank you so much that’s so kind of you to say! xx

Even though you had worked for Shin-Ra for a number of years, you had never attended the staff functions. You always felt like they were overly political. It was usually full of people either there because they had to show their faces, trying to get their company ideas heard, or looking for an opportunity to sleep their way up the company ladder.

“It won’t be that bad! We’ll get dressed up, have some free booze and watch people make fools of themselves.” Reno said, trying his best to persuade you to come with him. He, like the rest of the Turks, was expected to be there and he would rather not have the lecture from Tseng on Monday morning. You looked at him to find him doing his best puppy dog eyes at you, knowing that you could never resist them.

“hmpf fine. What’s the dress code?” you said, giving in to his charm. He smiled widely at you “Ah it’s a fancy event, so go all out.” You were just about to open your mouth to protest, but Reno was out the door yelling back to you how he’d pick you up at 7. You looked down at your watch. 2pm. Best leave work a bit early and go dress shopping.

You had just finished applying the final touches to your makeup when you hear Reno let himself into your apartment with the key you had given him. “I won’t be long, just putting my shoes on and I’ll be there.” you called out to him as you stood in front of your full-length mirror, smoothing out your dress.

You had gone for a black long-sleeved dress. It had a deep v-neck, which showed off your cleavage just enough to be sexy by still classy. It was a long dress but there was a slit on one of the sides that exposed one of your legs from the mid-thigh down. You stepped into your heeled black shoes and picked up your clutch, before walking out of your bedroom.

Reno was stood in your kitchen, leant up against the countertop. His hair was styled the same as it always was, but he was missing his goggles. His black suit and half-open white shirt were replaced by a dark green and black checked suit with a black shirt. His shirt was buttoned to the top and he was even wearing a tie of the same design as his suit. You couldn’t help but pause as you took in his appearance. The suit fit his slim form perfectly and you couldn’t deny that the sight of him sent a tingle down your spine.

“Well, don’t you look handsome.” You said, making him look up at you. As soon as his eyes fell upon you he stood upright. His lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. You shuffled slightly awkwardly as his eyes raked up your form. He always thought you were stunning, but he had never seen you dressed up like this and quite frankly, he was speechless. “It’s too much isn’t it?” you said, now self-conscious about your dress choice. “I’ll do a grab a cardigan or something.” You moved to walk back to your bedroom, but Reno caught your wrist in his hand. He spun you to face him again, but this time he was much closer to you. “Don’t. You look perfect.” His usual cheeky expression was replaced by a much more serious one. The smell of his aftershave and the deep look in his eyes were making you dizzy with desire.

His hand ghosted down your side, feeling the soft fabric that hugged your body in the best possible way. You rested your hands on his toned chest. The air was thick with anticipation before your lips finally met. You could tell he was taking extra care in his kisses, trying to preserve your lipstick as much as possible. He was doing so well until he let his hands roam to cup your backside, pulling you closer to him. His trousers were getting impossibly tight, and when you shifted slightly, adding some friction, he groaned into the kiss. You took this as an opportunity to bite his bottom lip lightly. He responded by deepening the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth to coax yours into a dance.

Your hands instinctively moved up to his hair. The feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp made Reno grind his hips into yours. He turned you both around, so now you were the one up against the counter. He broke the kiss to lift you up onto the counter. “We’re definitely going to be late if we carry on.” You spoke, but you didn’t really care. Right now, all you wanted was Reno. He hummed as he began kissing down your neck, making his way to your cleavage. “It’s fine, I’m not exactly going to be lasting long with you looking like that.”

His answer made you laugh out loud, but that laugh was cut off by the feeling of Reno's hands travelling up your legs, lifting your dress at the same time. Reno let out a small groan at the sight of your panties. “Fuck y/n, you tryna kill me?” his voice drawled out as he bit his lip as the sign, thumbs gently massaging your thighs. “Well, it was actually my ploy to get us to leave the party a bit early” you said with a smirk. Reno raised an eyebrow “Oh really? And how were you going to play your trump card?” His mouth was now ghosting over yours as his hands made slow work of lowing your pretty red lace panties.

You eyes were locked and your smirk grew wider. “Well…” you started as your hand felt down his chest. “I would have excused myself from one of your boring work conversations.” His fingers were now stroking up and down your already soaked lips. You tried your best to not moan at his touch and carried on talking. “Then I would have gone the bathroom to take a pic.” Your hand travelled further down his form. “And then, I would have sent it to you, while I got out coats. Just waiting for us to get home, so you could bend me over…”You cupped his tense bulge, squeezing enough to get a gasp from the redhead in front of you. “…and fuck me.”

Something seemed to flip in Reno at the sound of those last three words. In a flash, you were flipped over and bent over the kitchen counter. Strong hands massaged your ass cheeks before he pushed two fingers into you. You cried out at the sudden intrusion. His fingers curled slightly and he moved his hand in an up and down motion. He knew just how to hit that spot that drove you crazy. He was impatient in his movements. If you hadn’t been so turned on, you would have been embarrassed by the noise of him pumping into you with his fingers. When he felt you start to clench, he moved his other hand to circle over your clit, quickly making you cum around his fingers.

Once you came down from your high, Reno wasted no time in pulling down his trousers and pants just enough to release his cock. He rubbed it up and down your entrance a couple times before he sunk into you. “Fuck! Shit, you’re so perfect” he said, stilling to briefly savour the feeling of your smooth, tight walls gripping onto him. You too let out a low moan “Fuck Reno, you feel so good.”

He did a few slow, deep strokes before he couldn’t hold back any more. The small kitchen was filled with the sounds of slapping skin, grunts, moans and heavy breathing. His hands had a vice grip on your hips. You could feel that he was getting close, so you intentionally clenched around him. His thrusts stuttered and he spilled into you, muttering a string of cures words as he did.

He had his head resting on your shoulder as he caught his breath. When he finally pulled out of you, you turned your head to plant a kiss on his lips. “Did I tell you how hot you look in that suit?” you said with a smile. He let out a breathy laugh “Thanks babe. I guess your dress is alright.” He said giving you a wink.

You quickly went to the bathroom to clean up and fix your make up. When you came out again Reno was on the phone “Yeah, I know. We’re in traffic. Listen partner, I don’t know what you want me to do. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He was ushering you out of the house, as he spoke.

#Okara Writes Reno #reno of the turks #reno ff7 #reno x reader #spicy

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dontshootmespence · 5 years ago

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A Good Business Transaction

Summary: Desperate for money after getting into trouble, Y/N enters into a ‘business transaction’ of sorts with resident Thrombey asshole, Ransom.

Pairing: Ransom x Reader

Word Count: 2,368

Warning: Gambling problems, paying for sex, p in v, blow jobs and gagging, fingering, squirting, name-calling, biting, creampies, canon divergent. I really went all out on this one. See below.

A/N: You can all blame my horny-for-Chris gf @heycasbutt for this.

You have money - not Thrombey money - but you have it. While waiting for Meg to finish with the will reading, you step outside the palatial Thrombey mansion to light up a cigarette, hoping it will quiet your nerves. Unfortunately, you probably have to smoke the entire pack in ten minutes and subsequently die to feel like you aren’t on edge anymore, but hey, that’s life.

With shaky hands, you tap the lighter and watch the flame ignite, hoping that maybe you’ll spontaneously combust and not have to deal with your looming money problems.

“You know that shit’ll kill ya, right?”

There goes the cigarette taking the edge off. “Eat shit, Drysdale.” Taking a drag, you let the smoke go into the subtle breeze making its way past the mansion. “What happened with the reading?”

“Family business,” he replies as the corner of his lips turns upward. “You can ask Meg. We’re all fucked.” Something on his face doesn’t read like he’s fucked - like he has something up his sleeve.

Meg’s been your best friend for years, despite you being a few years older, so you were hoping that she might be able to help you with your money issue, but if the whole family is fucked, you assume the entirety of Harlan’s money went to his caretaker Marta. “Well, fuck.”

You put out the half-finished cigarette on the side of the house and pull another one from the pack, quickly lighting it up as you try to wipe away a tear. Last thing you want to be doing is crying in front of Ransom Drysdale. Meg is the only reason you’ve ever met him. He’s sexy as hell but all the looks and money in the world can’t stop Ransom from being the world’s biggest asshole.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, the smallest note of caring entering his voice before he continues with his usual self. “Can’t milk Meg for all the money she’s not getting?”

“Fuck off, Ransom. Meg’s my best friend. I don’t do that kind of shit to people.”

“Everyone does when money’s involved,” he said confidently. “You got money problems?”

“I’m into it with a bookie, alright?”

“How much?”

“Fifty large, and my dad’s basically cut me off because he’s got a new whore he spends all his money on. The child he never wanted from the now dead mother isn’t his priority anymore.”

“What a cocksucker.” Ransom seems genuine for one of the first times in his life. “I can help you out.”

The red ember of the cigarette draws your attention for a moment. You know what he wants. He’s made no secret over the years. “With what money, Drysdale? You just said you’re all fucked.”

“I’ve got my ways.” The glint in his eyes said he was about to fuck his whole family in the ass, including Meg, but you had bookies on your ass and if he was about to come into some money, you needed it.

You take a step toward him and take another drag. “I don’t what you’re about to do, but you really mean that? You’d keep the bookies from killing me? Because I’m headed six feet under if I don’t pay up by the end of the week.”

“Yea, I’m not completely heartless. My family can eat shit and die, but you-”

“You don’t want me to die when you haven’t had the chance to sleep with me yet.”

“Your words, not mine.”

“When do you expect to come into this money?” Despite Meg being your best friend your need for self-preservation trumps all. You’re about to fuck Meg over and yet you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Few days. A week tops.”

“How about I give you a hint of what’s to come if you get me out of this?”

A raised eyebrow tells you that you’ve got him on the hook. He could be bullshitting about money, but your gut says he isn’t. “Any good business transaction needs some good faith, right?”

What an asshole. Grabbing him by the coat, you guide him behind the house. With his family losing their minds inside, no one will notice if you indulge Ransom’s dirty mind. You back yourself into the wall and slide down, feeling your hair catch in the roughness of the reddish brick.

“You think about this a lot?” He asks. “You got down on your knees pretty quickly.”

You glare at him through hooded eyes - the ‘eat shit’ implied. As you fumble with his belt, you hear him chuckle. God, you hate him. You pull him free of his boxers and run your tongue along the tip, catching the little drop of pre-cum that sits there. Despite his cocksure attitude, he shivers and slips his hand into your hair. “You gonna suck my cock, little girl?”

“I’m going to gag on your cock, Drysdale. Let you fuck it like it’s my pretty little cunt.”

Groaning, he grasps either side of your head and braces his forearms against the brick wall. “Open.”

You do as he says, sticking your tongue. “Fuck my mouth, Drysdale. And if you come through for me, you’ll get so much more. After I get paid of course.”

“Of course,” he says suredly.

Reaching out, you grasp his balls with your dominant hand and guide him into your mouth, wrapping your lips around the velvety smooth skin. You moan around him and watch his jaw drop. This is gonna be the best head he’s ever gotten, if only to ensure that he pays up when the time comes. While his family fights somewhere in the distance, you take him over and over again, making a point not to swallow. If Ransom is anything, it’s dirty, nasty and messy.

A trail of spit drops onto your shirt. “Look at me,” he demands. “Stay still. It’s my turn.”

He places a hand behind your head. At first, you think it’s the act of a gentlemen, but then you realize it’s just Ransom ensuring that if he fucks your brains out he won’t actually fuck your brains out against the brick wall. It’ll be hard to get his money if he’s a convicted murderer. Ransom steps closer to the wall and guides his cock into your mouth again, unrelenting when he feels you gag. Your reflex forces him out and you laugh. Against your better judgement you have thought about his cock in your mouth more times than you care to admit.

Arousal pools between your legs. If it weren’t for the fact that you need money, and the fact that Ransom would 100 percent fuck you senseless and then go back on his promise, you’d be him to fuck you right here, right now. As he thrusts in and out of your mouth, his cock heavy on your tongue, you hollow your cheeks and try to look up at him. You want to watch the cocky bastard lose his damn mind.

When he sees your unfaltering gaze, he picks up the pace, his cock getting harder and harder with each pass. “I’m going to come down that pretty little throat.”

You swallow him down and grab his ass, anchoring him there as he pulses down your throat. You hate how turned on you are, shaking as you come. His right hand slinks around your neck so he can feel himself in your throat. “Little slut likes getting her throat fucked?”

“I do,” you reply, swallowing the last of his come as you rise to your feet. “Come through for me next week and I’ll give you whatever you want.”

As you walk away, you wipe the remnants of your ‘business transaction’ from your lips, confident that he’ll deliver.

----

Meg’s been crying to you all week. Marta had the inheritance for all of a couple of days when she was found to have killed Harlan. She didn’t. You knew it. Something to do with Ransom you’re sure. But with your deadline to your bookies looming, you can’t bring yourself to care.

As you knock on Ransom’s front door, you glance around, hoping that no one sees you, especially Meg. She knows about your money problems, so if she sees you’re still alive after walking into Ransom’s place she’ll put it together. She’s a smart girl.

“Come in,” he says, swinging the door open unceremoniously. “You got the account you need it routed to?”

“Yea,” you say, handing over the paper.

He says something about routing the money through various accounts so it’s safer, safer for him obviously; he wants to make sure your bookies can’t come after ‘his’ money. “Alright, call your guy and make sure the debt is paid.”

With shaky hands, you dial the number and wait for him to pick up. “Got my payment?”

“Close call, girl. Don’t let it happen again.” The disembodied voice responds.

“It won’t.” Because you don’t plan on being here much longer than you have to. You’re going to pay your debt to Ransom, because he’s hot so why not, and then you’re planning on stealing what you can from your father and bouncing before he can do anything about it. Shouldn’t be a problem considering he doesn’t pay attention to anyone but his new whore. “Done,” you say, turning toward Ransom. “I appreciate it. I’ll be out of your hair soon. But I am ready to pay my debt if you’re so inclined.”

“You wear the type of lingerie I asked for?”

Unbuttoning your top, you show him a peek of the nude, see-through lace bra you’re wearing. “Panties match, too.”

“Good girl.” There’s a glint in his eyes that makes you weak in the knees. You’ve had plenty of sex in your life, but something about Ransom’s brash demeanor, give no fucks attitude and search for his own pleasure and his alone gets to you in the best way possible. You have no misgivings about your relationship with Ransom. It’s a business transaction. Money for sex. You got your money and you like sex, so why not follow through? “Strip. Leave the lingerie on though. I plan on destroying it.”

His red gaze remains fixed on you as you let the shirt drop to the floor and your jeans pool around your ankles. “Best 50k I’ve ever spent.”

“Bastard.”

“You like it,” he says as he begins to circle you.

Behind you, he pulls off his light blue sweater and throws it who knows where. All you hear is its soft thud on the ground before he spins you around and pushes you back toward the couch. You fall into it and watch him reach for what appears to be condoms. “Don’t,” you say. “I’m on the pill and I was just tested. I want you to come in my tight little cunt.”

“You are a little slut.” Happily, he throws the box to the side and drops to his knees in front of the couch, pulling the lace to the side so he can lap at your arousal. “I’m going to make you squirt. Scream my name. I plan on ruining you for every man that comes after me.”

His tongue slides up and down your slit a few times before he slips two fingers inside. With his other hand, he rips the panties to shreds and discards the material on the floor next to him. You grab his head and silently beg for more - faster, harder - anything. When you clench your legs around his head, he starts to fuck you with his tongue, his hands clasping your thighs like his life depends on it.

Pulling away, he leaves you wanting as he rough fucks your pussy with his fingers. “Squirt for me, slut.”

Your orgasm crests in an instant and then you’re doing what you haven’t before, crying out his name as you squirt. He laps it up like a man starved as you shake, his fingers still inside you. “You’ll never find another woman like me either, Hugh. Every woman you fuck until the end of time. You’ll wish she were me.”

He says nothing. You use his real name, knowing it’ll anger him, but he’s speechless. You’re right and he hates that. Pushing his pants down, he kicks them off and spreads your thighs with his roughened palms, bearing all his weight on you.

With no ceremony whatsoever, he plunges into your wet heat, groaning at the fit. “God, your pussy is perfect.” Each slam of his cock makes you cry out, back arching into the couch, nipples taut against the thin, but confining fabric of your bra. Whether he senses your frustration or just wants to see all of you, you don’t know, and you don’t care, because he pushes the lace above your breasts.

As he pounds into you, he bends down to take one of your nipples between his teeth. “Fill my pussy up Ransom. I want it.” You wrap your legs around his waist and use your heels to push him into you harder and harder.

His sweat-slick skin meets yours as he bends down to take your mouth in a searing kiss. It’s filled with lust and hatred and leaves your head spinning as another orgasm threatens to turn you to jelly.

Each groan and growl says he isn’t far from coming himself. He grasps your inner thighs and scratches at the skin, pulling out all the way before pumping back in. When he comes, you cry out, “Ransom!” You rub your clit and arch up, muscles spasming as his cock twitches inside you, hot thick ropes of come pooling inside you.

“Fuckin hell,” he breathes. “I’ll be thinking about this pussy for a long time.”

You dip your finger into your pussy and feel his come, bringing it to your mouth for a taste. You make a point of not breaking his gaze. Sure you’re leaving, but you want to make a lasting impression on the asshole. “Take a picture, Ransom, it’ll last longer.”

Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he finds his phone and replies, “You know what? I think I will. For posterity’s sake.” He smirks.

Blissed out and filled with come, you smile for the camera. “Eat shit, Drysdale.”

#ransom drysdale #ransom x reader #ransom x you #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale smut #dontshootmespence #a good business transaction

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noisycowboyglitter · 4 months ago

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Female Trump Supporters: Fierce Fighters for His Vision

This design concept blends themes of female empowerment with support for Donald Trump's political movement. The imagery likely features silhouettes or stylized depictions of women in assertive, powerful poses, perhaps with raised fists or determined expressions, symbolizing strength and resilience.

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stone-man-warrior · 4 years ago

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September 18, 2020: 3:26 pm:

I want to do a terror comm reading here, this one looks seriously important.

American Music Supply email promotions are also terror communications from Hollywood Terror Command Generals in the Music Industry in USA.

The thing to see, is the red Gibson SG Standard 61 Vintage Cherry with Case, at $1799.00.

Then, on the line below, is that other SG.

Gibson SG Standard Heritage Cherry with Soft Case at $1499.00.

Those two guitars are SG models. SG is acronym for “Solid Guitar”.

The only difference I can see, at a brief glance, is that the 1961 model is $300.00 more, and comes with a hard case, while the Standard Heritage model comes with a soft case.

That, in my opinion, is only a $50.00 difference, not a $300.00 dollar difference.

You have to know a few things in advance, to see what is happening there, and those things are all over the place, far too complicated to mention here, I’ll just cut to the chase scene, and show you where those guitars are leading to:

The OD Green Flying V, is what you need to see. The two SG’s are part of a set of terror communications, that are actually features that are built into one, particular version of a Gibson Flying V Guitar. The one that is the terror communication, is NOT that one. Like I said, you need some prerequisite information to know what is being shown to you.

I cannot show you what you need to see. The information has been purged from the internet. That does not mean that it’s impossible to find, there are people who have access to the information, and those are the people I am writing this for.

First, the thing that got me to make the connection to this email, from Twitter:

This news about Greek Alphabet Storm names, is connected to the AMS Gibson promotion in ways that are far too complicated for a Tumblr post, I remain confident that there are people who can make the connections without the details explained to them. Those are the people I am writing this for.

Back to that OD Green Flying V: The thing to know, is, there was a time when Gibson was accused of obtaining tone woods that were considered to be unlawful to harvest. At that time, the US Federal Government raided the Gibson Guitars manufacturing facilities in search of outlawed woods. Nothing was found. The woods in question had been harvested decades prior to the law that prohibits harvest of them.

Gibson was cleared of wrong doing.

They made a statement in the 1990′s when that happened, in the form of offering a Flying V in OD Green, to commemorate the Federal Raid. Military colors on a guitar, a flying guitar.

Now, that information that was purged:

The OD Green V, was on display at the Gibson website, That particular build, was entirely unique for a Flying V. The guitar featured the same kind of build characteristics that are found on Hollowbody Archtop Guitars. The bridge, was tall, about one inch tall. The neck of the guitar was set into the body at an angle, was not in a lineal plane with the body of the guitar like the one shown above is. The angled neck set into the body was such that the strings were high above the pick-ups, and the bridge was tall to accommodate the inclined set neck. That is the way many Hollowbody Archtops are built.

Those two Gibson SG Guitars, the “Solid Guitars”, are communication to terror soldiers in the field, they are sending a message that is in-line with the original version of the “OD Green Gibson Flying V”, the one with the inclined neck.

(Don’t get any of this confused with what I was saying at the Pain Specialists of Southern Oregon the other day as I was explaining the comm that is there in the form of a coat rack, an offset ceiling slope/incline, a wall pained in OD Green, and a wainscot trim on the wall, unless you really want to delve into the depths of the terror rabbit hole, where there is no way out once you go in, and learn the truth.) You have to take into consideration that the White House is a terror cell, some of it’s members are identified with the Greek Alphabet:

Donald Trump = Alpha

Melania Trump = Beta

Mike Pence = Gamma

Karen Pence = Delta

Mike Pompeo = Epsilon

Susan Pompeo = Zeta

There are more, but the information is very difficult to obtain, that is all I have on the Greek Alphabet at the White House. Notably, the members all are required to have a spouse.

Enter the Archtop parts of that OD Green Flying V right there.

Know that the Ark that Noah built, is real, not historically, but is a real thing that is ready to float now. The Vatican terror that I have been explaining here for so long is being waged on the population so that at the end of the game they are playing, all of the population will be killed, and only a select group will live to start over on Earth, with a new population. That is what this set of terror comm is about... The Ark, is ready.

The Earths population is planned to be reduced to a select group of 500,000 people. That’s one-half million people selected to survive the upcoming mandatory Corona Virus Vaccines, and a plethora of other means of eliminating the population so that the select group can board the safety of the Ark, and wait until the dust settles, and the smoke clears, and the rising waters recede. Then, they start over, on Earth... just those select people.

They are all Screen Actor Guild members. The “Pretty People” of the world.

This set of terror comm, and this reading, is the most important one I have ever done. There is very little time to act against these terror cult members and the insanity that drives them to murder so many millions of innocent people.

We have only a few months to exist on Earth. The plan has been advanced unchecked for fifty years. The Nitrous Oxide and Versed *Medazolam) airborne gas mixture they have been using has created a situation where eye-witnesses of mass murders of hundreds or thousands of people are not able to remember details about what they saw. The Versed gas prevents memory retention of anything that happened during exposure to the gas.

USA, and the entire world, have been fooled by the entertainers we love to watch, and the news media personalities that we rely on for information, and that has been true for fifty years.

End terror report: 4:24.

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nancypullen · 4 years ago

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Sigh of Relief

Did you watch? I cried my way through the inauguration, then I wept for the kindness and civility we saw throughout the evening festivities. I didn’t get to see DJB in a ball gown, but I did get to see Jon Bon Jovi sing Here Comes the Sun, that’s a fair trade. Yesterday I shed tears of relief, tears of joy, and tears for the immense hope in my heart. Seeing the natural, loving embraces of the Biden family, the joy shared by Kamala Harris and her family, it was like a rainbow after a violent storm. I ugly cried when, for the very first time in our nation’s history, a woman raised her hand and took the oath of the Vice-President. In 2021, the year that marked one hundred years since women won the fight to vote, we have a seat at the table. This clip says it all. Click and watch - it’s just a couple of seconds long, and so special.

https://www.tiktok.com/@misstorismith/video/6919994791329549574?lang=en&is_copy_url=0&is_from_webapp=v2&sender_device=pc&sender_web_id=6917694374160614917

All day long I marveled at the dignity, the intelligence, the compassion, and the inclusiveness on display. It was the very best of America, the very best. On the flip side of the love fest, the Trumps touched down in Palm Beach, Florida and it was clear that Melania is done. She’d already changed from her skin tight departure suit and 5 inch heels (I looked it up, they’re Christian Louboutins’ So Kate pumps, That Birkin bag alone is almost $60,000) -

into an ankle length, shapeless caftan and flats.

I laughed out loud. Has a message ever been more clear? Oh sure, that Gucci dress retails for about four grand, but let’s face it - it’s thisclose to being lounge wear. Good for her, I get it. I don’t like her, she’s racist, vapid, and scowled her way through four years on the tax payers’ dime. But I still get it. She doesn’t have to pretend anymore. But enough about Mr. and Mrs. Bozo ( with apologies to good-hearted clowns everywhere), they’re history. We now have an affectionate, compassionate, normally flawed first family. DJB was absolutely lovely in her inauguration day coat and dress.

Her ensemble is from designer Alexandria O’Neill who started the little known Markarian label. Props to the doc for using a female up and comer. The color is described as ocean blue. LOVE it! In an interview O’Neill said that she worked closely with DJB and that, "The color blue was chosen for the pieces to signify trust, confidence, and stability." The tea-length dress has a chiffon bodice with a neckline bordered in Swarovski pearls and crystals. The coat has a dark blue velvet collar and the same Swarovski crystals - she sparkled! Subtle, but still sparkly. I’m a fan. Dr. Biden added a silk mask and nude Jimmy Choo heels (she wore the LOVE pump, $495). Those are the same pumps she wore the previous evening for the COVID memorial ceremony. I did notice that for the actual swearing in ceremony she slipped into shoes that matched her dress and coat.

But later, after hours of walking, talking, parade reviewing, and finally arriving by foot at the White House doors, she was back in the nude pumps.

Those must have her Dr. Scholl’s inserts in them. Hahahahahaha! I’m hoping that a five hundred dollar shoe feels like a cloud. During the evening celebration, with concerts and tributes rather than balls, DJB wore a white dress and coat set with embroidered flowers.

Love the coat, but thought the neckline of the dress didn’t flatter her. Still, after reading this bit from Harper’s Bazaar, I like it more: The look ,from designer Gabriela Hearst, consisted of an ivory double-breasted cashmere coat, paired with a silk dress with embroidery on the neckline and hemline reflecting the federal flowers from every state and territory of the country. The choice of white, as seen in Naomi Biden and J.Lo's looks for the swearing-in ceremony, is often worn by women on the world stage as an ode to women suffragists. Hearst is a Uruguay-born designer based in New York. I think that’s all wonderful, but still could have had a v-neck. If you’re wondering about our stunning VP, here’s a wonderful article on her choice of inaugural wear.

https://www.harpersbazaar.com/celebrity/latest/a35264948/kamala-harris-christopher-john-rogers-inauguration/ All of that aside, can we all agree that the outfit of the day belonged to Michelle Obama? She arrived like a queen!

These pics don’t do her justice. You had to see it all in motion. Flawless. It was reported that VP Harris, Hillary Clinton, and Michelle Obama wore various shades of purple, from burgundy to plum to royal, to signify unity between red and blue. True? I don’t know. It’s a lovely thought though.

I suppose I’m yammering on about pretty clothes and shoes because...well, because I can. It’s such a relief to know that the nation is once again in the hands of capable adults that I can actually enjoy a fabulous shoe or a gorgeous dress. After four years of tension, waiting for the daily barrage of idiocy, this feels...normal. It’s reassuring to know that people who are far smarter than I am are dealing with every issue in a calm, intelligent, thoughtful way. No more insane revenge tweets, no more blustering and threatening, no more playground bully taunts, no more wanna-be dictator squatting in the people’s house. I didn’t enjoy feeling smarter than the president. I’m probably not even the smartest person on my street and I should never feel smarter than the person who has the nuclear codes. Biden isn’t perfect, no president has been or ever will be. He can’t satisfy everyone, and I’m sure I’ll disagree with his actions now and then - but it will be policy differences, not irrational, harmful behavior and compulsive lying. So yeah, I’m relieved that I can relax and look at pretty clothes. I’m not sorry about this shallow blog post, I’m celebrating it! I’d like to say that we woke up in a better, safer America today, an America that values every gender, color, religion - every citizen. But I know that the Trumpers are still scattered in every town of every state and they disagree. I’m hoping that empathy and decency at the top will trickle down. Maybe I’m naive, maybe I’m too much of an optimist - but it’s a good start, don’t you think? Put on something pretty and go sprinkle some kindness into the lives of others. It’s a new day!

youtube

Stay safe, stay well. XOXO, Nancy

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superryunosukeyuki · 5 years ago

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Take Hirako’s Betrayal of Goat

Setup

Throughout the last few arcs of Tokyo Ghoul :re, there were subtle hints that someone from inside Goat was a traitor leaking information. For example, during the Clown Siege Arc Kaneki decides to assist the CCG in killing Clowns before heading out to retrieve rc suppressants for Akira Mado. They finish doing so earlier than expected (only 20 minutes), but despite this V agents have somehow already made it to their location.

The CCG monitors only detected Goat’s presence when they arrived to fight the Clowns. So, in only the 20 minutes after being made aware of Goat’s presence they somehow made it all the way over to their location (on foot) from wherever they were previously? The only logical explanation seems to be that somebody tipped them off previously and they had men on standby.

Later, after Furuta unleashes the Oggai they destroy Goat’s 3rd base in :re 122. After this event, the Goat members do question if there was a leak.

After being made aware of the Oggai, they believe it was solely due to their sensory abilities that they were able to find the base. However, while this event was being aired on television one newscaster noted that Furuta’s performance lasted online 38 minutes.

What she meant by his “roadside performance” is somewhat vague. Did it take the Oggai 38 minutes to destroy the base in 38 minutes? Given what was shown of their strength it’s doubtful it would’ve taken them that long. So, does that mean it took them 38 minutes to both find the base and destroy it? For the Oggai to use their senses to locate the base they would have to do so on foot. So, they located the base and traveled there on foot in less than 38 minutes? It seems to good to be true that they started their search so close to the base. This again hints that someone leaked information.

Later, in an attempt to infiltrate Goat the Oggai Hajime Hazuki pretends to be a ghoul on the run in order be saved by Naki, who then takes him to Goat’s base in the 24th ward (in :re 127).

However, how could Hajime have known that Goat members would be here? He could’ve used his senses to tell that Ghouls were nearby, but he wouldn’t have been able to know that they belonged to Goat. This again suggests someone leaked information, in this case that someone revealed an area where Goat members would be active.

Later, the CCG attacks the 24th ward base while most of the stronger ghouls are out with a scavenging party. Kaneki considered this possibility, and so he assigned a communication squad led by Kaya Irimi and Enji Koma to the outskirts of the 24th ward. With Irimi’s enormous sensory abilities, she should have been able to detect any incoming attacks, and then the squad could send a transmission to the scavenging party to have them come back to base.

However, this doesn’t happen.

During the original series, after the Anteiku members went to rescue Kaneki Irimi stays outside of the complex they go into. She stays outside and uses her abilities to monitor to movements inside the entire facility.

There’s no way someone whose senses are so vast and refined wouldn’t notice large scale attack coming. The moment she felt the CCG incoming they would’ve sent a transmission. Not only does this not happen, Koma and Irimi’s squad members are shown beheaded.

Koma and Irimi aren’t actually among the bodies here as their icons indicate that they are wearing their Devil Ape and Black Dober uniforms, while the corpses are shown wearing dark red robes. However, notice here that the bodies are facing towards the screen (inwards) rather than outwards. Meaning that whoever killed them came from behind, and so whoever killed them wasn’t the CCG who came from outwards.

This could be explain why Koma and Irimi didn’t send transmission to Kaneki. Whoever attacked them from behind undetected could only have come from the direction of the 24th ward (a fellow goat member). So, seeing a friendly face wouldn’t have put them on alert until it was too late. The traitor struck once more.

Finally, after Kaneki’s final battle with Furuta, the latter uses some interesting words when speaking to Kaneki.

How would Furuta know Kaneki had a wife or kid? Kaneki only married Touka after they decided to hide in the 24th ward. Also, knowledge of her pregnancy only became apparent when they were in the 24th ward as well. So, how Furuta hear? The answer is likely the same as previously: a traitor inside of Goat leaking information.

So far, all these points suggest a traitor inside of Goat was leaking information and working against them in secret. But who is this traitor? There is both symbolic evidence and textual evidence that suggests the identity of the traitor: Take Hirako.

Symbolic Evidence

There is symbolic evidence that ties Take Hirako to Judas Iscariot (the disciple who betrayed Jesus Christ). Judas left the Last Supper early or did not attend at all (depending on the version of the story), and later sold out Jesus for 30 pieces of silver. Later, he hung himself from a tree (thereby breaking his neck).

Just like Judas didn’t attend the Last Supper, Hirako didn’t attend the Christmas dinner at the Quinx Chateau.

Not only that, but the plant shown in this image (with leaves in circles) looks like it was cut from a Japanese Laurel tree. In Japan, this tree is also known as the Japanese Judas-Tree, which further hints at the Judas connection. In regards to Hirako breaking his neck, there are a number of images in the Tokyo Ghoul calendar (released in 2016) that focus on his neck.

As shown in a post by @akiira-mado:

1. “Let us fight. Even if the God of Death will point his blade at my throat.“ 2. CCG’s God of Death killing a fly but it’s a strange composition, slashing X across Hirako’s neck. For such a simple omake, it would have been easy for Ishida to rework the awkward composition differently. 3. Hirako clutching his neck with Arima in the bg observing. “I felt death approaching” is Hirako’s comment about this scene.

Also, in Hirako’s card in the Tokyo Ghoul Trump series, there appears to be a sand dollar in the background.

The five slits in sand dollars are said to represent Christ’s wounds on the cross. So, this is another reference to Judas as he is responsible for Christ’s wounds. Later, Hirako himself is even called Judas when confronted by Hajime Hazuki.

All of this points to Hirako as the Judas of Tokyo Ghoul, but who is the Jesus he betrayed? Throughout the story, Ken Kaneki has depicted with Christian symbolism.

So, this sets up that Hirako is indeed a traitor to Kaneki.

Textual Evidence

Hirako is seen relatively little in the story. However, we know that he generally wears a bland, stoic expression. There are points when this expression breaks, and these point can be telling.

Hirako is typically a very passive individual who waits for orders. However, when they are getting ready to steal rc suppressants from the CCG lab in the Clown Arc, he not only volunteers himself for the lab mission but even states he has the layout of the lab memorized in order to convince Kaneki to bring him along. If you look closely at his left eye, it appears out of focus. Why did Hirako want to go to the lab so much?

If Hirako was a traitor working for Furuta, then he may have known Rize was at the lab. He specifically mentions he has the layout of the lab memorized, and so if he went he may have tried to steer the group away from the area where Rize was (since she was vital to Furuta’s plan).

Another point made at the beginning of this meta was that somehow Hajime Hazuki knew that Naki was nearby when he pretended to be a ghoul in trouble. Later, when Hirako first confronts Hajime he appears uncharacteristically hostile.

Later, when Kaneki says they will keep him locked up underground he appears worried.

If Hirako was the one who told Furuta where Hajime could find the white suits, then Hajime may know as well. So, he may be afraid of Hajime exposing him.

Finally, there’s Irimi and Koma. They are revealed to have died at some unspecified point, but they are revived as quinques by Akihiro Kanou. In the final battle with V, after Hirako hears that the Black Dobers (Irimi) are coming to the battlefield, he looks to the side nervously.

This is likely because he had a hand in their deaths. Also, despite being used as puppets Irimi and Koma do retain some aspects of their original personality.

And who are the first people they move to attack? Hirako and Ui.

Why they attacked Ui is unclear. During the Rushima Island Arc she seemed to want to fight Ui specifically, and so she may have a grudge against him for something.

However, it’s important to note that they attack Hirako as well, probably to avenge their deaths.

Motive

Since we know so little about Hirako, it’s not really possible to know his motivations for betraying Kaneki and Goat unless Ishida-sensei reveals it to us some day. However, if we take the Judas analogy into account, we remember that Jesus was betrayed for thirty pieces of silver. According to a recent study, 30 shekels of silver in today’s money would be around $200. Imagine betraying Jesus for 200 bucks! So, the few pieces of silver were likely to illustrate the Jesus was betrayed for a petty and insignificant price. So, Hirako’s reason for betraying was likely for a petty reason.

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things2mustdo · 4 years ago

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I heard a family member make remarks on the ‘victims’ of Hurricane Florence, who knew well in advance the possible horrors which came crawling their way. But were those who decided to stay victims given the warnings? They also espoused, essentially, that rescue teams shouldn’t put their lives at risk for those who remained in harm’s way.

This brought me back to a conversation with a man who has been big on situational awareness in terms of avoiding assailants who aim to pierce your heart and rob you while you lie in a pool of your own blood. He asked this question about what one does when in a dark alley and you see a suspicious character coming your way? My response was something to the extent of whether or not I even had to be in the dark alley? That was his point.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bHq4dbQBa14

Now, I’m not remotely suggesting rescue teams avoid doing their job, but it did get me back to situational awareness and understanding the justice brought about when you are foolish enough to venture into a dark alley on the wrong side of town, or remaining in Florida when you damn well knew the potential risk involved.

That got me thinking about the recent political violence and acts of domestic terrorism caused by Black Lives Matter and Anti-Fascists. So, in regards to our contemporary state of the political and cultural arena, and what surely awaits us in the next US presidential election, here are some simple, basic tips about situational awareness and being prepared in case civil unrest breaks out.

1. Understand The Baseline Of Your Environment

Political rallies across the US demonstrate the capacity of violence and the willingness to assault in ruthless manners. Both men and women of more right-wing views have been assaulted, been threatened to be raped, have their families killed, get doxxed, have dead animals thrown at their living quarters, had their finances threatened, etc. It’s a goddamn nightmare on the more North Side of America than the South Side, where not everyone has a bamboo stick up their ass.

There are many great articles written on situational awareness. And that’s key: situation. The environment, in a general sense, has a baseline. It’s the basic overall feel and operation of that set area.

For example, you go to the mall. What’d you expect to see, generally speaking? People walking and talking, laughing and usually carrying a bag or two. It would, in this context, be out of the ordinary if an individual, dressed in all black, is quickly walking through a crowd while he has his hoodie on and hands in his pockets. It’s odd behavior. Same for someone moving nervously carrying a bag that does not appear to be bought at a store or, to add to that, he doesn’t have workman apparel. It’s out of the ordinary.

If I’m at a bank and someone walks in, sits in the corner for an unreasonable amount of time without engaging in any transaction and appears to not work there, I’m alert. Are his eyes moving around scanning for cameras, are his lips moving to suggest he’s counting something, is he in apparel which could perhaps more easily conceal a gun?

Same if I’m out sitting while enjoying coffee and an all-black car pulls in and just sits. Whether the engine is on are not does slightly change the degree of the potential threat of the situation. If it’s on, is it a quick getaway for a potential crime? And is it at night where there are fewer people and witnesses?

These are all pretty basic to practice, in my view. So it doesn’t help when everyone’s head is glued to their smartphones. Especially with women. They appear to be much less aware than men who themselves very much have this issue with their smartphones.

2. The Gray Man At Political Rallies

The concept of the Gray Man is simple: blend in. Do not create stimuli around you. Gray is often considered a very bland color. It’s boring, lifeless, moot. This isn’t to suggest wearing gray makes you undetectable, but the concept works well with this color.

Blend in so well to your environment that you essentially appear bland. But if you’re at a political rally, then you know anyone is a potential threat. Wearing a Trump hat or an American flag raises suspicion, creates stimuli from your political adversary, and now you are made. If you’re European-American, wearing a hat over your shaved head is a good idea in terms of lessening your presence because there is still widespread delusion about the reincarnation of literal Nazis.

People involved with BLM, AntiFa and other leftist gangs are already going to make assumptions about your character and will dehumanize you and engage violently. Perhaps lessening that delusion, if even possible, could potentially add to your safety and security, in some respects.

It’s not that one desires to give up their chosen headwear and so on, but weighing the pros and cons should be obvious if you wish to avoid conflict. Which, again, these days is hard to do.

3. Consider Your Neighbors And Conversation

Depending upon your living situation, if you’re in California, talking openly with your neighbors about politics in relations to conservatism, in a positive light, creates quite a stir of stimuli. And, given the next US elections are coming up, you’ve made an impression in their mind. If they believe you are a literal Nazi, you’ve coined a political adversary. If you’re in the deeper South surrounded by red-necks and American-loving Christians, chances are, from my observations, you’ll be less likely to be attacked for your political (or religious) views.

I personally despise having to sometimes lower my voice or take a quick glance around because I’m about to say something that might cause stimuli to a potential assailant. But, in these contemporary times, it’s up to you to decide what’s worth it and what’s not.

Conclusion

These are merely a few things of quality in regards to your safety and security. I’ve been quite observant. It’s not always intentional, but I’ve seen things and made assumptions (or had a strong thought about it) and turned out to be spot on.

Identity your adversary. Weigh in how much of a threat they are to you. Pay attention to who they know or talk to, then extend that person’s conversation partners and then extend it again. Leftist are ruthless, dangerous, hateful devils. And remember, if you ever see anyone wearing the hammer and sickel, then be even more alert.

Read Next: Being Situationally Aware Is A Matter Of Life Or Death

It is 7:30am on the day after Christmas in 2004. The sun is already up in the blue sky of the Andaman sea, and some rare tourists are walking on the main beach of Phi Phi island in Thailand. Most of the tourists are still sleeping, dealing with the usual hangover that comes with the traditional Christmas party.

The locals are busy preparing the long tail boats they use to cruise around the nearby islands. Some Westerners like me, who live here, fill and carry the diving tanks the scuba divers will use to explore the underwater reefs today.

In less than an hour, this idyllic landscape will turn into a dramatic nightmare and many of those people will die, crushed and drowned by the powerful wave of a tsunami coming from the Indian Ocean.

Was there a way to prevent that? Not more than preventing a hurricane in Florida or an earthquake in California. Scientists can predict it, multi-million dollar sensors can detect it, information networks can announce it through various media, but there is no way to prevent it from happening. But we can be more prepared than when I experienced this tsunami in Thailand. Governments and local administrations can invest in infrastructures to mitigate the potential risks and better inform the general public.

And individuals can be better prepared to deal with the consequences of natural events. The people who tragically died on this island were not different from any other people on this planet. As a matter of fact, a vast majority of them were young and relatively fit. They didn’t survive for only a handful of reasons, mainly:

lack of situational awareness

lack of appropriate mindset

lack of physical skills

The situational awareness and appropriate mindset are mainly due to the fact that, when we are on vacation on a tropical island, the last thing we want to think about is the remote possibility of a tragic event of any kind. If the place is nice and sunny, if the locals are friendly and smiling, we quickly feel safe and let our guard down. No pickpockets, no fire, no mugging, no earthquake, no car crash, and therefore no need to pay attention to any precursor sign, no need to keep our valuables and documents with us at all times, no need to have a look at evacuation routes, fire exits, etc. In other words we quickly become complacent when everything looks like paradise.

But this lack of situational awareness and appropriate mindset was only one side of the coin for the many fatalities that occurred that day in Thailand. One of the main culprits was the lack of physical skills. Many people didn’t survive simply because they didn’t have the physical abilities to deal with what happened to them and around them.

Some were not comfortable in the water and couldn’t swim across the strong current that the wave and the obstacles created. The event only lasted a few minutes but the water raised quickly and submerged the lowest part of the island.

Some were not able to hold their breath for a few seconds. When the wave hit the hotels and guesthouses near the beach, most of the rooms were submerged very rapidly, but not for very long. Surprise and panic killed a lot of people in their rooms.

Some were not able to hold on to fixed objects for more than a few seconds. The current was strong and being able to hold on something, or even better to climb onto something, was a good way to increase the chance of surviving.

Some were not able to run away and climb a hill or a stairway. For those who were on the beach and saw the wave coming, the proper action was to sprint and find high ground. Reaching the highest floor of a hotel or one of the nearby hills was a good way to avoid the full force of the tsunami.

Some were not able to push away heavy objects. Entrapment was one of the major risks in this event. Many people drowned because they lacked the necessary strength to move away the objects that the current pushed onto them.

The Western world tends to rely heavily on tools to make our life easier and tools to make it safer. Instead of dealing with the weather, we use tools to make it more bearable (A/C, heater, umbrella, raincoat, sunscreen, etc). Instead of moving in this environment, we rely on tools (a car or an ATV instead of walking and running, a canoe or a boat instead of swimming). We easily blame the lack of protection that can get us injured (“I cannot walk/run without shoes”, “I cannot float without a flotation device”, “I will fall and break my skull if I don’t wear a helmet”, etc).

Tools are fine and make our life more enjoyable most of the time, but what if? What happens when we don’t have them? That’s where skills and physical abilities make plenty of sense. Every one of us, regardless of age, gender and race should be able to do at least the following things:

sprint for at least 100 yards/meters in order to get out of danger (collapsing building, wild fire)

climb over a wall or fence at least shoulder high (to escape an angry pitbull or a group of thugs)

carry for at least 10 yards/meters someone of 3/4 of your size and bodyweight (to save someone from an immediate danger)

swim at least 100 yards/meters without stopping and float at least 10 minutes with no aid or support (to get out of a dangerous zone and wait for a rescue vessel)

walk 5 miles in an hour (to reach a gas station when you run out of gas and you cannot call for help)

perform some basic self-defense techniques (striking, grappling) to react appropriately in a mugging/rapping/life-threatening situation

hold your breath for at least one minute while walking/moving at a slow pace (to escape the toxic fumes of a building on fire)

crawl for at least 30 yards/meters to seek cover (active shooter situation) or rescue someone (a child hidden under a car, or someone trapped under or inside something)

If you think that any of those abilities is way beyond your limits, it’s maybe time to reconsider your priorities in life. Being self-sufficient and prepared doesn’t mean relying on tools—it’s knowing that you can deal with dramatic circumstances to the best of your abilities. Tools come in handy when you have physical limitations (age, injuries, illness) but they shouldn’t be the first line of defense.

Having some regulations that require a floatation device in every hotel room in Thailand will not save any life if the next tsunami in the region happens in South Korea. Use your body and your brain. They are the original tools, and you have them with you all the time!

Read More: How To Improve Your Situational Awareness From One Minute Of Effort Per Day

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pcwpolwrestling · 4 years ago

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PCW Extreme Election Night 2020-Part One

================================

[ON SCREEN GRAPHIC: Blue background. The top of the Capitol Building occupies the left hand side of the television screen.

Centered in the middle of the screen: “P-SPAN. THE POLITICAL CHANNEL.”]

P-SPAN Announcer (off screen): The P-SPAN Network bring you long-form public affairs programming from the nation’s capital and are a public service of…

[ON SCREEN GRAPHIC: Logos of twenty three different cable and satellite television companies replace the Capitol Building and P-SPAN graphic.]

P-SPAN Announcer (v/o): …your television provider.

[ON SCREEN GRAPHIC: Returns to the blue background with the top of the Capitol Building occupying the left hand side of the television screen with “P-SPAN. THE POLITICAL CHANNEL.” centered in the middle of the screen.]

P-SPAN Announcer (v/o): P-SPAN. The Political Channel.

===============================

Political Championship Wrestling Extreme Election Night 2020-Part One Hack’s Rusty Nail Saloon Wauseon, Ohio Taped Tuesday November 3rd, 2020 Thursday December 31st, 2020

Announcers: ‘The Voice of PCW’ Johnny Suave AGE: 50 / HT: 5’ 11” WT: 195 HOME: Philadelphia, PA HAIR: Brown / STYLE: Like Ronnie Dunn / FACE: Goatee DRESS: Brown suit without tie

Colleen Crowder ‘Low Level New York Times Reporter Trying to Make a Name for Herself’ AGE: 38 / HT: 5’ 5” WT: 142 HOME: New York City, NY HAIR: Black / STYLE: Curly / FACE: Narrow face with rounded jaw, turned-up nose, faint freckles, and thin lips. Bulging blue eyes, thin eyebrows. DRESS: Black pants suit

SHOW OPEN The crowd starts out with a “PCW! PCW!” chant to start the show.

‘The Voice of PCW’ Johnny Suave comes out with a lifesize cardboard cut-out of Shania Twain and says, “Welcome to PCW- Loose Cannons LOCK AND LOAD!”

The crowd continues the “PCW” chant- much to the annoyance of Suave’s real life co-host Colleen Crowder.

Johnny Suave: “We are coming to you tonight from Hack’s Rusty Nail Saloon in Wauseon, Ohio at the northeast corner of the intersection of Airport Highway and Shoop Avenue,” Suave continues. “I am Johnny Suave. This hot piece of cardboard is Shania Twain and tonight we find out who will be the PCW CEO for the next four years- current PCW CEO Donald Trump (American Patriots) or challenger Joe Biden (Progressive Alliance).”

Crowder glares at and then elbows Suave in the side at the omission of her introduction.

Suave responds in the most unenthusiastic way possible.

Johnny Suave: “Oh. And this is Colleen Crowder- a low level New York Times reporter trying to make a name for herself.”

Colleen Crowder: “Really? Do you have to say it like that?”

Suave ignores her and quickly moves on. He introduces a video clip from 2016’s Extreme Election Night when Trump defeated the Progressive Alliance’s Hillary Clinton.

(REPLAY: Extreme Election Night 2016- Donald Trump (American Patriots) vs. Hillary Clinton (Progressive Alliance) -It’s not looking good for Trump.

The mainstream media and the Washington DC establishment have interjected themselves into this match at every opportunity including Don Lemon of CNN, the Washington Post’s Eugene Robinson and Dana Milbank, and the New York Times’s David Brooks and Paul Krugman. Even some members of the American Patriots, John McCain, Lindsey Graham, former Jeb Bush, and Mitt Romney charge the ring on Clinton’s behalf and a huge scrum explodes. Trump finds himself swallowed up by a mass of humanity as members of each group literally throw each other out of the way to get to him.

Cut to Paul Ryan. He’s whistling while he ever so subtly tries to inch away from the ring, hoping that no one can see him subtly trying to inch away from the ring. Mitch McConnell? He’s gone from ringside and nowhere to be found. The rest of the establishment? Sitting in their seats reading the Wall Street Journal or on their phones making plans for their golf getaway.

Then…

-Deplorables ‘Prairie Populist’ William Daniels Bryan, ‘Red Solo Plastic Cup’ Ray McAvay, and Charlie Blackwell stream to the ring followed by forty other people. Bryan hops up on the ring apron. He drapes Dana Milbank’s neck over the top rope and drops to the floor causing the Washington Post columnist to whiplash off the ropes and onto his back. McAvay wields a Big Bertha Driver and takes down Chuck Schumer (Progressive Alliance) and Lindsay Graham (American Patriots). Mitt Romney sees McAvay using the driver to pole axe his way through the crowd. He wisely uses discretion and decides to slip out of the ring. Blackwell jumps into the ring wielding a steel folding chair and starts taking people out left and right: Paul Krugman, Don Lemon, and Jeb Bush.

The American Patriots, Progressive Alliance, and media contingent still in the ring decide to hastily exit stage right leaving just Trump, Hillary, McAvay, Blackwell, Bryan, and the forty-odd Deplorables inside.

Blackwell and McAvay re-station themselves outside the ring and the Les Miserables surrounding the squared circle. The ring steadily clears and when it does, leaving just Trump and Hillary inside, there’s an unpleasant realization for one side.

Johnny Suave: FIGURE FOUR LEG LOCK!

Clinton eventually has to submit to Trump’s figure four leg lock submission and Trump becomes the new PCW CEO.

Crowder complains… again… that Russian referee Corrina Romanov interceded on Trump’s behalf and cost Hillary Clinton the match.

“Who will leave here tonight as the CEO of PCW?,” Suave continues, again ignoring Crowder. “Will Donald Trump (American Patriots) book himself another four year stint at the top of the political universe? Or will Joe Biden (Progressive Alliance) put an end to Trump’s run and take PCW in a different direction?”

Colleen jumps in to point out polls indicate that Joe Biden will win tonight and win very easily.

Johnny Suave: “Because your polls was so correct four years ago.”

Suave then eats another elbow from Crowder.

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The entrance music brings out the owner of PCW Dawn McGill as she makes her first appearance of the evening, much to the enthusiastic fanfare of the overwhelming majority inside Hack’s Rusty Nail Saloon.

PCW Owner Dawn McGill

But not Colleen…

Colleen Crowder: “She’s the real problem! She just doesn’t get it.”

The camera pans around the arena. First…

The Deplorables/Les Miserables section of the bar: ‘Red Solo Cup’ Ray McAvay, ‘Prairie Populist’ William Daniels Bryan, McAvay’s wife and one half of the famed West Texas Adult Entertainment duo Dark and Stormy, Stacee (Dark) Perry. Paige ‘Stormy’ Reynolds is also there along with Bert the Janitor and General DeBauchery- who looks like a bizarre combination of the AWA’s Colonel DeBeers and Lt. Aldo from Inglorious Basterds, sporting a black captain’s hat right out of World War II, smoking a cigar and grinning obnoxiously, Al Cahall- sporting six pack abs…oh…that’s a six pack in front of his abs- all on their feet cheering wildly.

Colleen Crowder: “And so are they. They’re the problem too!”

Next…

The Conservative Inc. section, the American Patriots/Never Trumpers/country club set (Bill Kristol. Charlie Sykes. Jonah Goldberg. David French. Tom Nichols. David Reaboi. Jennifer Rubin. David Brooks, Ben Sasse, Mitt Romney, Rick Wilson, George Conway, John Kasich. and S.E. Cupp)- are on their feet as well but not cheering all that wildly.

Finally…

Then there’s Progressive Alliance section. Professor McCarthy waves his ‘good book’ (the good book that tells us things that are correct or incorrect to say, think, or believe) in the air while his Flock- The Green World Order (Peta from PETA, GreenPete, ‘Extreme Vegan’ Brock Cole Lee, and PeaceNick), the Young Jerks (Zenk Cryger, James Idahola, and Anna- the foul-mouthed sidekick), the Deep State (One and Two), Emily S. List, and Code Pink- all sit in their seats not happy to see McGill step out on stage.

McGill smiles and acknowledges the crowd.

Her smile goes away the second Nancy Pelosi (Progressive Alliance) and Mitch McConnell (American Patriots) walk out and join her.

Nancy Pelosi (CA-Progressive Alliance and Mitch McConnell (KY-American Patriots)

COMPROMISE AGREEMENT Dawn has a microphone.

Dawn McGill: “WELCOME EVERYONE TO P-C-W’S EXTREME ELECTION NIGHT 2020!”

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

McGill proclaims PCW is back and the faithful jammed inside Hack’s Rusty Nail Saloon cheer her on.

Crowd: “Thank you Dawn (clap clap clap-clap-clap)! Thank you Dawn (clap clap clap-clap-clap)!”

Dawn McGill: “This show belongs to YOU! The people! This show is made by the people for you- the people!”

More wild cheers and thunderous applause.

Next, she tells the PCW faithful that she needs to make a quick announcement before Extreme Election Night 2020 gets under way.

McGill surprises many in the crowd when she announces that she’s reached a compromise agreement with Pelosi and McConnell and Joe Biden and Donald Trump will NOT wrestle each other in the main event tonight. Cue boos. McGill herself does not look all that pleased at this development either.

“Tonight’s main event will be ‘Stars N. Stripes’ Kevin Scott of the American Patriots with Donald Trump in his corner versus ‘Mr. Hollywood’ Kevin Daniels from the Progressive Alliance with Joe Biden in his corner versus Charlie Blackwell of the American Heartland Coalition for the PCW Title,” McGill explains.

Suave wonders if Mitch McConnell (KY-American Patriots) sold out Donald Trump by agreeing to the compromise agreement?

Dawn McGill: “Per the terms and conditions agreed to with Ms. Pelosi and Mr. McConnell, the PCW CEO will be named after the match in the same way it used to be- by the owner of PCW which in this case. . .”

McGill turns to Pelosi and McConnell and smirks.

Dawn McGill: “. . . is me.”

Pelosi’s smile suddenly goes away.

The crowd again expresses their support of Dawn McGill.

Crowder protests. Suave points out that former owner Bubba Jackson was the one who chose Barack Obama not once but twice. “I’m sure Dawn McGill can make a well-reasoned and fair decision here. I trust her a lot more than would trust your colleagues,” Suave declared.

Yeah, that doesn’t go over well. But before Crowder can work up enough righteous indignation to respond…

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

VOICES OF ‘REASON’ …CNN’s Jake Tapper and Brian Stelter come out and walk to the ring and gives the PCW fans a chance to express their righteous indignation.

Colleen Crowder: “It’s about time voices of reason come out and set these idiots straight.”

Tapper and Stelter both climb in.

Tapper reassures Crowder that ‘she’s not alone’ in having to put up with people who are unable to accept reality.

Jake Tapper: “There are some people that are so mendacious, I wouldn’t put them on the air, period. Like Kayleigh McEnany…”

Stelter shakes his head and mutters “she’s the worst.”

Jake Tapper: “These are just people who tell lies the way that most people breathe-”

*WHAM!*

Crowd pop.

Johnny Suave: “HOLY CRAP! IT’S KAYLEIGH McENANY!”

And her steel folding chair. The crowd roars as Tapper falls to the floor. Stelter turns around and…

*WHAM!*

…he’s face down on the mat.

More crowd popping follows and causes Crowder to become even more indignant.

Colleen Crowder: “SHE CAN’T DO THAT!”

A referee suddenly races down to the ring.

Colleen Crowder: “WHAT?”

Johnny Suave: “WE’VE GOT AN IMPROMPTU MATCH!”

Colleen Crowder: “NOOOOOO!”

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MATCH #1-HANDICAP MATCH

Trump Spokesperson Kayleigh McEnaney vs. CNN’s Jake Tapper and Brian Stelter

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**DING-DING**

Both Tapper and Stelter remain on the mat.

Jim Acosta runs in…

*WHAM!*

…and joins them.

Don Lemon rushes down…

*WHAM!*

…yep, same result.

Kaitlan Collins…

*WHAM!*

…down and out.

Johnny Suave: “HERE COMES JEFF ZUCKER!”

The President of CNN rolls into the ring. He’s pissed and starts shouting at McEnaney.

The result?

*WHAM!*

Zucker finds himself careening through the ropes to the outside.

Crowder goes full on apoplectic now. “SHE CAN’T DO THAT!” she shouts at the top of her lungs.

McEnaney throws the chair down and drags Tapper on top of Stelter. She sticks her foot on top of the pile.

ONE.

TWO.

THREE!

**DING-DING-DING**

WINNER: Kayleigh McEnaney @ :30

Johnny Suave: “Kayleigh McEnaney just wiped out CNN!”

McEnaney grabs the microphone. She calls what just happened tonight “a therapy session for a broken network” Then McEnaney drops the chair and leaves.

Colleen Crowder: “Kayleigh McEnaney doesn’t get to determine what the truth is- that’s our job. We determine the truth. We determine the narrative. We determine the news the people need to see. We determine the way that the people should react.”

Johnny Suave: “Just like pro wrestling.”

Suave winks. Colleen just glares at her broadcast partner.

Johnny Suave: “That’s the problem. Most people would rather you just report the news and let us figure out how we feel about it.”

Crowder starts to respond. Suave cuts her off and runs down the rest of the card for tonight.

ARIZONA SENATE MEDALLION MATCH: Martha McSally (American Patriots) vs. Mark Kelly (Progressive Alliance)

MICHIGAN SENATE MEDALLION MATCH: Gary Peters (Progressive Alliance) vs. John James (American Patriots)

SOUTH CAROLINA SENATE MEDALLION MATCH: Lindsey Graham (American Patriots) vs. Jaime Harrison (Progressive Alliance)

HIGHLIGHTS FROM THE FACTION WAR GAMES HOUSE MATCH: Progressive Alliance vs. American Patriots

PCW TAG TEAM TITLE MATCH: Jill Berg Enterprises: P.M.C. Banks and Kirk Walstreit (American Patriots) vs. The Green World Order: GreenPete and ‘Vengeful Vegan’ Brock Cole Lee (Progressive Alliance) vs. The Deplorables: ‘Red Solo Cup’ Ray McAvay and ‘Prairie Populist’ William Daniels Bryan (American Heartland Coalition)

PCW WOMEN’S TITLE MATCH: Kathryn Randall Collins (Progressive Alliance) vs. ‘Alaskan Rogue’ Sierra Whalen (American Patriots) vs. ‘Extreme Pizza Delivery Girl’ Tessa Martin (American Heartland Coalition)

MAIN EVENT/PCW TITLE MATCH: ‘Starz N. Stripes’ Kevin Scott (American Patriots) vs. ‘Mr. Hollywood’ Kevin Daniels vs. ‘Prairie Populist’ William Daniels Bryan (American Heartland Coalition)

PCW CEO Donald Trump (American Patriots) and challenger Joe Biden (Progressive Alliance)

Finally, either Donald Trump or Joe Biden will be chosen to become the CEO of PCW for the next four years.

Crowder says all the ingredients are there for a blue wave to sweep through PCW. Suave responds that we’ll find that out soon enough and sends it back to the ring for the second match of the night.

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

MATCH #2-ARIZONA SENATE MEDALLION MATCH:

Martha McSally (American Patriots) vs. Mark Kelly (Progressive Alliance)

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McSally returns after losing two years ago to Krysten Sinema at Extreme Election Night 2018. Can she pick up her first PCW win over former astronaut, and husband to Gabrielle Giffords, Mark Kelly? Or will Kelly continue the recent trend of Progressive Alliance wins in Arizona?

**DING-DING**

Johnny Suave: “And we are underway!”

Kelly and McSally circle. Wicked chop hits McSally and then she takes a headbutt from Kelly. Whip to the ropes – scoop slam to McSally by Kelly. Another whip to the ropes – McSally ducks – off the opposite ropes – Kelly evades a right hand – belly to back suplex to McSally. Cover. McSally kicks out. Kelly with a headlock – McSally reverses and takes down Kelly. McSally waits – and spears Kelly to the mat. Cover One – two – kick out. Waistlock by McSally – Kelly reverses and takes McSally down with a judo takeover. Leg drop by Kelly. Cover. One – two – NO! McSally gets the shoulder up. Kelly drags McSally up and pops her with a steel folding chairshot. McSally looks done. Kelly hooks the leg. One – two – NO! McSally kicks out before the 3.

Colleen Crowder: “That’s it! I’m calling the match for Mark Kelly!”

Johnny Suave: “The match is not even remotely close to being finished-“

Colleen Crowder: “Nope! It’s over!”

Kelly swings the chair again – McSally dodges. She goes springboard off the ropes and kicks the chair into Kelly’s face. Right hand by McSally drops her and the fans fire up! Kelly back up – McSally with a waistlock. Kelly escapes – but runs into a roll up. One – two – Kelly slips out in time and then decks McSally with a front kick. Cover. One – two – NO! McSally gets her shoulder up in time. McSally goes to the ropes and rushes at the champion. Kelly greets her with a chop that literally takes McSally right off her feet! McSally scrambles up – Kelly measures and SUPERKICK! McSally collapses to the mat. Cover. One – two – NO! And then a spinning knee from Kelly and again, McSally is down. One – two – NO! McSally miraculously escapes again. Kelly reels McSally in, but McSally wrenches free, only for Kelly to waistlock, spin and LARIAT! Hook of the the legs. One – two – NOOOOOOO!

Johnny Suave: “McSally kicked out at the very last second! It’s not over yet!”

Colleen Crowder: “Nope. We’ve already called it. The match is over.”

Shaking his head, Kelly methodically rolls out of the ring and pulls a table out from under. He sets the table up in the ring and brings McSally back to her feet – McSally fights out of a grapple and chops Kelly. Arm drag takedown by McSally and she goes top rope. Then…

Johnny Suave: “WAIT A MINUTE! THAT’S ARIZONA SECRETARY OF STATE KATIE HOBBS!”

Hobbs (Progressive Alliance) to ringside. She goes to McSally and shoves her off the top rope. McSally flies and goes through a table.

Johnny Suave: “HOLY CRAP!”

Now it’s Kelly’s turn. Kelly sets McSally up on his back. Gory Special sends McSally face first to the mat and shook the ring. Kelly covers. One….two….THREE!!

WINNER OF ARIZONA SENATE MEDALLION MATCH: Mark Kelly (Progressive Alliance) @ 7:54

The referee hands Kelly the medallion.

Johnny Suave: “McSally did everything she could. Katie Hobbs’s interference helped swing the match to Mark Kelly.”

Crowder is blatantly cheering on the result. She’s going full on gloat.

Colleen Crowder: “What did I tell you Johnny? We called the match and we were right! Blue Wave baby, Blue Wave! First Martha McSally, next Lindsey Graham.”

Suave expresses skepticism about Graham losing tonight.

Colleen Crowder: “The polls and our narrative say Graham’s going down.”

CALIFORNIA DREAMING California Governor Gavin Newsom. No mask. Dining out with some ‘friends’ inside a swanky restaurant while normal Californians are subjected to strict guidelines against large gatherings and ‘staying home.’

Newsom makes a plea for Joe Biden to bring PCW to California.

Suave notes that Dawn McGill is on record as stating that as long as she’s the owner, PCW will never set foot in California.

Gavin Newsom: “Joe. When you win later on tonight and become the new PCW CEO, don’t forget that California is open for business!”

In the background, an endless parade of moving trucks pass by.

Newsom says forget holding PCW shows in rednecky bars out in the middle of Nowheresville USA-California is the place PCW should be. He hails California as the home of Silicon Valley, Hollywood, the Pacific Coast, Disneyworld-

Johnny Suave: “Closed. Employees laid off.”

Gavin Newsom: “And-“

Johnny Suave: “Choking regulations that is driving business out of the state.”

Several moving trucks honk as they drive past.

Suave also notes an average California home costs $440,000 (two–and–a–half times the average national home price of $180,000) and that the average monthly rent is about $1,240 (50 percent higher than the rest of the country-$840 per month).

Behind Newsom, Elon Musk looks at him with disgust. Then he leaves and hops on a moving truck.

Gavin Newsom: “With all that, it’s no wonder that California is the place to be. So come to California, PCW. And, oh, make sure you bring your checkbook…”

Suddenly, the electricity goes out and the restaurant is left in total darkness.

Gavin Newsom: “…so you too can live the California dream!”

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MATCH #3- SOUTH CAROLINA SENATE MEDALLION MATCH:

Lindsey Graham (American Patriots) vs. Jaime Harrison (Progressive Alliance)

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

Colleen Crowder: “Our polls say that Lindsey Graham is in trouble. I predict he’ll fall before the big Blue Wave that’s coming!”

Johnny Suave: “Well? We’ll find out in just a moment. Will this be Lindsey Graham’s biggest battle yet? Will Jaime Harrison bring the South Carolina Medallion to the Progressive Alliance?”

…Harrison goes waistlock – Graham elbows him away! He drives his shoulder into Harrison’s gut and drives him into the corner turnbuckle. Graham then with a forearm shot and runs at Harrison again – shoulder into the stomach topples him over. Cover. One – TWO!

Johnny Suave: “Harrison kicks out. But the surprise here is just how tenacious Lindsey Graham has been tonight about defending his South Carolina Medallion.”

Crowder calls Graham’s effort noble but futile. She still maintains that Harrison will win.

Graham doesn’t let up. Hip toss sends Harrison to the middle of the ring. Cover – One – TWO! Again Harrison kicks out. This time he rakes Graham’s eyes and whips him into the corner.

Colleen Crowder: “Here we go! Jaime Harrison is going to-“

Graham counters with a raised foot to the face. Graham waits – he launches himself at Harrison –LARIAT! Cover. One – two – THREE!

WINNER OF SOUTH CAROLINA SENATE MEDALLION MATCH: Lindsey Graham (American Patriots) @ 3:15

Johnny Suave: “And the answer is no. Crowder was not correct and Lindsey Graham wins comfortably.”

Suave turns to Colleen for her take on the match.

Colleen Crowder: “The match isn’t over yet, Johnny. We haven’t called it yet.”

Johnny Suave: “The referee just made the three count. It’s over.”

Colleen Crowder: “Nope. It’s not until we call it and say it’s over.”

JOE BIDEN INTERVIEW Shaking his head, Suave moves on. He recounts Extreme Election Night 2008 and 2012 where the then-owner of PCW came out after the main event and announced who would be the PCW CEO for the next four years.

VIDEO REPLAY: –2008. PCW Owner Bubba Jackson names Barack Obama (Progressive Alliance) as the winner and new CEO of PCW. He shakes hands with his opponent John McCain (American Patriots).

-2012. Jackson again names Obama as the winner. Obama’s opponent Mitt Romney (American Patriots) walks over and shakes hands with the returning PCW CEO.

Johnny Suave: “Then in 2016 after Dawn McGill took over ownership of PCW, Donald Trump defeated Hillary Clinton inside the ring to succeed Barack Obama. But tonight, we return to the old way.

Cut to: Outside Dawn McGill’s office.

Inside Dawn’s office. The Progressive Alliance’s Joe Biden.

Johnny Suave: During Extreme Election Night, the candidate is interviewed by the PCW owner.

The door opens. Biden and his candidate for Aide de Camp Kamala Harris emerges from McGIll’s office.

There’s a perfunctory handshake between McGill and Biden just outside her office that seems more than a little bit awkward.

Then Biden goes to the podium to talk briefly to his supporters. There’s eight of them on hand- socially distanced standing in appropriately separated circles.

Biden gives a brief statement and ends with…

Joe Biden: “We’re going to build back…um…to make better…changes so we can…change for the… better.”

He also added.

Joe Biden: “TRUNALIMUNUMAPRZURE!”

Scattered applause.

Cut back to Suave and Crowder.

Colleen Crowder: Ladies and gentlemen. This is your next PCW CEO!

Johnny Suave: Next in to see PCW Owner Dawn McGill- the current CEO of Political Championship Wrestling, Donald Trump.

Crowder gives a thumbs-down to Trump and ‘boos.’

Cut back to outside Dawn McGill’s office.

TRUMP INTERVIEW Following Trump’s interview with McGill, he and his Aide de Camp Mike Pence exit her office- both smiling.

Trump and McGill share a more effusive handshake, again everyone all smiles.

Trump then goes to the podium and addresses the enthusiastic two hundred and fifty people who’ve crowded into a very tight area to hear him speak.

Colleen Crowder: Really? Where’s the social distancing? Where’s the masks? This is irresponsible.

Trump gives his break remarks and ends with…

Donald Trump: We are one movement, one people, and one family! Together we will make PCW great again!

Big cheers follow.

Cut back to Suave and Crowder.

Johnny Suave: “So Colleen, how’s that Blue Wave coming along?”

Colleen Crowder: “Shut up! The night isn’t over yet and we still haven’t called the Lindsey Graham-Jaime Harrison match.”

Johnny Suave: “I’ll make it easy for you. Graham has the medallion. He won. Harrison lost.”

Colleen Crowder: “But we didn’t call it-“

THE AMERICAN PATRIOT BOX Quick cut to the American Patriots’ box. The Coke Brothers-Charles and David, financiers and mover and shaker of the American Patriots, glares towards the ring from his suite. He plucks his phone from a suit pocket and punches in a number.

PROGRESSIVE ALLIANCE BOX Quick cut to the Progressive Alliance box. George Moros, big money spender and mover and shaker in the Progressive Alliance, has a sour look on his face as well.

TAG TEAM TITLE MATCH TIME Suave announces it’s time for the big three-way PCW Tag Team Title match.

First team out…

THUMP

THUMP-THUMP-THUMP

Pop. Big…big pop.

THUMP

THUMP-THUMP-THUMP

The crowd erupts when the video screen shows the door to a dressing room in the back. A police escort is waiting at the door. One of the policemen knocks on the door.

Policeman: “Ms. Berg. It’s time.”

Colleen Crowder (voiceover): What do you mean it’s time? It’s time for what?

The door opens and eight male bodyguards walk out of the dressing room encircling a petite 95 pound woman and her executive assistant Melissa in the middle. The woman, dressed in a smart, dark business suit and heels, is busy talking on her cell phone. Melissa furiously scribbles down notes as the group makes their way towards the ring followed by P.M.C. Banks and Kirk Walstreit.

THUMP

THUMP-THUMP-THUMP

A huge roar greets the procession as it emerges from the back onto the stage and starts their way down the ramp. Two of the bodyguards use a fire extinguisher to create a fog like effect as the ‘Queen of Greed’ Jill Berg walks through. Two others hold sparklers up in the air as she passes by.

Berg and her Executive Assistant Melissa leads Banks and Walstreit out to the stage.

Jill Berg Enterprises MGR: ‘Queen of Greed’ Jill Berg ASST: Melissa P.M.C. Banks AGE: 30 / HT: 6′ 1″ WT: 230 / HOME: New York City, NY FIN: Bank Statement Overdraft Kirk Walstreit – ‘Wall Street Market Analyst with the Man Crush on ESPN’s Kirk Herbstreit.’ AGE: 34 / HT: 6’ 2” WT: 220, HOME: New York City, NY FIN: Stock Market Plunge

Berg leads the group down to the ring. Once inside the ring, Walstreit walks around holding up a velvet painting of ESPN’s Kirk Herbstreit. Why? Who knows. That’s just what he does.

Next out…

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♫ “Do you hear the people sing? – Singing the song of angry men?”

The camera pans over to the Deplorable’s section of the arena. Ray McAvay and William Daniels Bryan high five while Charlie Blackwell and ‘No Frills’ Chris Escondido stands up from their seat.

Crowder is not happy to see them.

Colleen Crowder: “BOOOO! BOOOOO! These Deplorable idiots are the ones responsible for Donald Trump winning in 2016! BOOOOO!”

The Deplorables MGR: Bert the Janitor ‘Red Solo Cup’ Ray McAvay HT: 6’ 3” WT: 215 HOME: Fort Stockton, TX FIN: McGill Bomb Valets: West Texas Adult Entertainment Legends Dark and Stormy William Daniels Bryan– ‘The Prairie Populist’ -4 time PCW Champion. Former PCW Television Champion HT: 5’10″ WT: 180, HOME: Platte, Nebraska / FIN: Cattle Mutilation or the Crane Kick SUBGROUP: General DeBauchery, Al Cahall, Nic Koteen

Also rising from their seats, General DeBauchery- who looks like a bizarre combination of the AWA’s Colonel DeBeers and Lt. Aldo from Inglorious Basterds, sporting a black captain’s hat right out of World War II, smoking a cigar and grinning obnoxiously, Al Cahall- sporting six pack abs…oh…that’s a six pack in front of his abs and the man smoking a cigarette in violation of several anti-smoking ordinances…as usual, Nic Koteen.

McAvay and Bryan stands up and edges towards the aisle. Blackwell, and Escondido follow. Then General DeBauchery, Cahall, and Koteen. Before McAvay and Escondido start to descend down the steps towards the rail separating the stands from the floor, McAvay turns around and gestures to the Les Miserables to join him.

The Deplorables rise up from their seats and line up behind him and Escondido as the pair start their way down towards the ring.

The camera spots West Texas Adult Entertainment Legends Dark and Stormy with their protégée Starbrite, all sporting the PCW Ray McAvay “Show Up. Punch In. Shut Up. Get to Work” baseball jersey, marching along with the other Les Miserables as McAvay and the procession head down to the ring.

McAvay, Bryan, Blackwell, Escondido, and the rest reach the steel barricade around ringside. One by one, they climb through the railing down to the floor and march towards the ring.

Then finally…

WE’RE CHANGING EVERYTHING!

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The song opens with a full minute and a half of abstract acapella tones. The wrestlers already in the ring wonder what the hell is with the music.

They’d find out soon enough after another minute of somber keyboard strikes and overlaid whale calls.

Male Voice: “My name is Brock Cole Lee. You can call me the Vengeful Vegan. And I’m here to let you know one thing. It’s time for a new force to emerge. It’s time for someone to come in and take over. It’s time for us- the GREEN… WORLD…ORDER!”

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Brock Cole Lee: “That’s right. Boo us all you want. The bottom line is . . . the Green World Order is here and WE’RE CHANGING EVERYTHING!”

This excites Crowder.

Colleen Crowder: “They’re changing everything Johnny!”

Johnny Suave: “They’ve been saying that since 2005. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Lee, his tag team partner GreenPete, and valet Peta from PETA- who spends most of the trip to the ring shouting at people for eating hamburgers and other assorted objectionable food.

Green World Order Valet: Peta from PETA GreenPete HT: 5′ 11″ WT: 195 / HOME: Los Angeles, CA FIN: Harpoon (modified spear or gore) ‘Extreme Vegan’ Brock Cole Lee HT: 6′ 3″ WT: 192 / HOME: New York City, NY FIN: The Juicer WITH: PeaceNick

All three teams in the ring now.

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

MATCH #4-PCW TAG TEAM TITLE MATCH:

Jill Berg Enterprises: P.M.C. Banks and Kirk Walstreit (American Patriots) vs. The Green World Order: GreenPete and ‘Vengeful Vegan’ Brock Cole Lee (Progressive Alliance) vs. The Deplorables: ‘Red Solo Cup’ Ray McAvay and ‘The Prairie Populist’ William Daniels Bryan (American Heartland Coalition)

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

Johnny Suave: “This is NOT an elimination match. The first team who gets a pinfall will be the new PCW Tag Team champions.”

Colleen Crowder: “GO GREEN WORLD ORDER!”

P.M.C. Banks, McAvay, and GreenPete will start. Outside the ring, The ‘Queen of Greed’ Jill Berg watches with arms folded. The Green World Order’s PeaceNick chants peaceful, pacifistic mantras while Peta continues to berate people at ringside for eating meat. The Deplorables at ringside clap their hands and cheer on McAvay and Bryan.

Brock Cole Lee and Kirk Walstreit taunt each other on the ring apron. Banks and GreenPete do a lot of talking while McAvay and Bryan confer. Banks shoves GreenPete. GreenPete shoves Banks. Head butt by GreenPete staggers Banks. He slams him down. Cover. One – two – McAvay makes the save.

Banks rolls out of the ring. GreenPete tags out to Brock Cole Lee who tells Banks to get his ass back into the ring. Banks and Walstreit talk strategy outside the ring with Jill Berg. Finally, a ten count begins and Banks returns.

Banks ties up with McAvay. McAvay gets leveled from behind by Lee. Banks decides he’s had enough and tags out to Kirk Walstreit. Walstreit rushes in – Lee gets a takedown. Waistlock by Lee – he holds on as Walstreit tries to escape. McAvay back up and he’s got a chair thanks to his tag partner. *WHAM!* Walstreit then German Suplexes Lee. Oklahoma Roll – one – two – GreenPete in for the save. Bryan tags in and he connects on a mat slam to Walstreit. He covers. One – two – BANKS MAKES THE SAVE! Lee tags GreenPete back in. Bryan and Walstreit duel – MULE KICK by GreenPete connects. Walstreit lets go – he dives for the corner – NO! GreenPete pulls him back at the last second. Lee clocks Bryan from behind with a steel folding chair and then throws him out of the ring. Banks tags in for Walstreit. GreenPete kicks Banks around the ring. Banks down. He tries to get to his corner but Walstreit stomps away with kick after kick after kick. The referee starts a five count – GreenPete stomps more. Then he goes back suplex but Banks lands on his feet. He ducks two more kicks from GreenPete and hits a DESPERATION BANK STATEMENT OVERDRAFT.

Johnny Suave: “HOLY CRAP!”

Colleen Crowder: “THAT CAN’T BE LEGAL!”

Suave assures her it is and that GreenPete is down and in big trouble.

Crowd on their feet. But Banks can’t make the pinfall on GreenPete. Both men crawl to their corners – hot tags to Brock Cole Lee and Walstreit! Lee and Walstreit exchange right hands. Lee decks Walstreit with a right hand.

Outside the ring, Jill Berg strolls over and… *SMACK* unleashes a vicious spinning heel kick to an unsuspecting GreenPete and knocks him out cold.

Colleen Crowder: WHAT? WHAT IS SHE DOING?

PeaceNick looks on in horror and starts to protest. Berg calmly walks over to him and *SMACK* …you guessed it.

Johnny Suave: Getting in some martial arts training during the match?

We hear Crowder’s overly audible ‘huff’ following Suave’s remark.

Now Bryan back in and he’s looking for anyone in a green shirt. He ducks a Lee clothesline and runs the ropes. Bryan ducks a second clothesline – stops, spins around – SLEEPER! Lee spins around and tries to get Bryan off his back. Lee slams Bryan into the corner turnbuckle. And again. A third time – Bryan is scraped off. Banks give him a stomp and then clocks Lee. GreenPete in the ring and runs and SPLASHES Banks in the corner. Banks down. Cover by Bryan. One – two – WALSTREIT MAKES THE SAVE! Bryan goes after Banks. Lee scoop slams Bryan. Cover. One – two – BRYAN GETS THE SHOULDER UP!

Bryan slips through Lee’s legs and tags McAvay back in. Both Deplorables hook up Banks, then hit a double suplex. McAvay’s cover. One – two – NO! Banks kicks out. Lee shoves McAvay out of the way and hits a spinning neckbreaker on Banks. Cover. One – two – Banks again kicks out. Banks reverses a hip toss – steps back – SUPERKICK TO BROCK COLE LEE! Lee down. Banks rolls over. One – two – Lee kicks out. Banks tags Kirk Walstreit back in. Flying elbow off the top rope by Walstreit takes Lee down again. He covers. One – two – 2.999!

Johnny Suave: “RAY McAVAY MAKES THE LAST SECOND SAVE!”

McAvay goes for the cover. But two masked men hit the ring and tackle him.

Johnny Suave: “WAIT A MINUTE! IT’S LOAF!”

League of Anti-Fascists aka…LOAF Ted HT: 5′ 11″ WT: 180 / HOME: Portland, OR FIN: Chaz HT: 6′ 1″ WT: 205 / HOME: Seattle, WA FIN:

McAvay tries to fight LOAF off – but Ted throws McAvay over the top rope to the floor. Then LOAF hop over the top rope and splashes McAvay and Bryan on the floor.

Colleen Crowder: “This is payback Johnny. Payback for what McAvay and Bryan did four years ago to help Donald Trump become the CEO of PCW and it’s ABOUT TIME!”

The Deplorables come to McAvay and Bryan’s aid and LOAF has to bail out.

Johnny Suave: “But the damage is done. Both McAvay and Bryan are down.”

Not for long though, McAvay drags himself up.

*SMACK*

Johnny Suave: “HOLY CRAP! JILL BERG JUST TOOK OUT RAY McAVAY WITH A SPINNING HEEL KICK!”

*SMACK*

Johnny Suave: “AND WILLIAM DANIELS BRYAN, TOO!”

This makes Crowder happy.

Colleen Crowder: “Again, it couldn’t have happened to better people.”

Walstreit again goes top rope – flying ax-handle drives Lee back down. Cover. One – two – NO! Lee ejects Walstreit to the middle of the ring. Walstreit with a waistlock – Lee reverses – backdrop to Walstreit. Cover. One – two – Walstreit slips out. P.M.C. Banks runs in. He slams Lee down. Walstreit comes over. Set. DOUBLE SUPERKICKS!! Lee is out of his feet. Walstreit in – STOCK MARKET PLUNGE! COVER! ONE – TWO- THREE! NEW CHAMPIONS!

WINNER AND **NEW** PCW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS: Jill Berg Enterprises @ 14:05

Johnny Suave: “Jill Berg Enterprises win!”

Colleen Crowder: “Again, they have not. We have not called the-“

The referee hands Walstreit and Banks the PCW Tag Team title match.

Johnny Suave: “Walstreit and Banks hold up their new title belts!”

Colleen Crowder: “They can’t do that! This match hasn’t been called yet!”

Johnny Suave: “Breaking news! The new PCW Tag Team champions put on their new title belts signifying that they are, in fact, the NEW PCW Tag Team champions.”

Colleen Crowder: “Don’t you dare mansplain to me!”

Johnny Suave: “Okay. We are going to go right to our next match. A special bonus match for the Alabama Senate Medallion between the Progressive Alliance’s Doug Jones and former Auburn Head Football Coach Tommy Tuberville of the American Patriots.”

Colleen Crowder: “That’s another win for the Progressive Alliance.”

Suave rolls his eyes and waves her off.

Cut to a quick video of the match:

VIDEO-Alabama Medallion Match: Doug Jones (Progressive Alliance) vs. Tommy Tuberville (American Patriots) Tuberville is having little trouble with Jones.

Voice Offscreen: “Hold on Johnny. Stop the video.”

SHOWSTOPPERS Arriving at the broadcast table: Pennsylvania State Attorney General Josh Shapiro, Michigan Governor Gretchen Whitmer, Michigan Secretary of State Jocelyn Benson, and former Georgia Gubernatorial candidate Stacey Abrams- all from the Progressive Alliance.The group inform Suave that the show is going to be stopped for the moment.

Johnny Suave: “Stopped? But why?”

Josh Shapiro: “Look. This is the first show back. The production crew is tired. They’re getting back into the flow of things. So we will pick up the show on Sunday evening with the conclusion.”

Colleen Crowder: “When Joe Biden will become the new PCW CEO!”

Shapiro nods to Crowder.

Josh Shapiro: “When Joe Biden will become the next CEO of PCW.”

Johnny Suave: “I guess we will be back with Part Two of PCW Extreme Election Night 2020 on Sunday night! For Colleen Crowder-“Colleen Crowder: I am more than capable of saying goodbye. I don’t need a man to-Johnny Suave: Good night everyone!

Cut to:

EPILOGUE Darkened room. Dim light.

Shadows move around.

George Moros- billionaire financier of the Progressive Alliance.

The Coke Brothers- billionaire financiers of the American Patriots.

A door opens. Then closes.

Charles Coke: Sarah.

The woman is Sarah Lenti, executive director of the Lincoln Project- a group of American Patriots and former American Patriots dedicated to preventing Donald Trump from winning a second term as PCW CEO.

Sarah Lenti: What the hell is going on! I thought you had things under control.

David Coke: Sarah, I know things haven’t exactly gone to plan-

Sarah Lenti: Not gone to plan? Dawn McGill is still in control of PCW with all her ‘PCW is for the people’ bull-*BLEEP*.

George Moros tries to reassure her.

George Moros: Look. We stopped the show for the evening. That gives us time to figure this out.

Sarah Lenti: Dawn McGill is going to hand the reins of PCW to Donald Trump for another four years!

George Moros: No she won’t. Clearly, it’s time to take this to the next level.

Moros pulls out a cell phone and hits a button.

George Moros: It’s time. Operation Dominion is in effect.

[‘Trumpet Concerto No. 2 in D major – 3 Allegro assai’ begins to play in the background and P-SPAN quickly cuts away to another political event.]

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