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myonechicagoworld · 4 years ago

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CHICAGO FIRE – MERRY CHRISTMAS, ETC (S01E10)

[door slams]

Joe Cruz: [breathing heavily]

Where is he?

Where’s Leon?

Flaco: Where’s my money?

Joe Cruz: Okay, look… I have a grand, but…

[door opens]

Joe Cruz: Leon.

Flaco…

[door shuts]

Joe Cruz: Listen, man… I

Flaco: The deal was for ten grand, Joe.

Joe Cruz: I… I can make payments

Flaco: You know how this works. I give you a break, word gets out,

and everybody else wants a break. And I spend half my day

explaining to people why they ain’t gonna get one.

So no breaks.

Do you have the money or not?

Joe Cruz: No, I don’t.

[gun clocking]

Joe Cruz: No!

[door slams]

Joe Cruz: [panting]

Kelly Severide: Hey, yeah… is, uh, Renee Royce there?

[chuckling] Leave…uh, leave what?

Word? Uh, yeah, sure.

Yeah, go for it. Leave word. Thanks.

cutscene

Peter Mills: Good morning, ladies.

Leslie Shay: Peter Mills, it’s the saddest thing. Christmas lights at

the north gate got blown down.

Peter Mills: What? We are gonna have to do something about that.

Leslie Shay: The fireman that saved Christmas.

Peter Mills: Mm.

Gabby Dawson: [laughs]

You think if I asked him to my cousin’s Christmas

party, he might take it the wrong way?

Leslie Shay: Family functions are usually reserved for serious

suitors, so shouldn’t you be asking Casey?

Gabby Dawson: [clears throat] I just need a date so that my cousin

doesn’t make any more comments about how I’m

gonna die alone.

Leslie Shay: So you afraid Casey will say no?

Gabby Dawson: Bitch, please.

Peter Mills: Hey, hey, Cruz, you give me a hand here?

Joe Cruz: In a minute.

Peter Mills: Okay.

Joe Cruz: You said ten minutes.

Leon Cruz: Yo, I don’t even want to be here. Why you calling me?

Joe Cruz: Come on inside.

Leon Cruz: What? So a bunch of fat firemen can make jokes about

my face?

Joe Cruz: Look, this is a daily police bulletin. We get one of these

every day.

Leon Cruz: That’s what ‘daily’ usually means.

Joe Cruz: “Expect increased violence in neighbourhood of

Humboldt Park due to an escalating gang conflict.”

Leon, this is some serious business you’re getting

wrapped up in. I don’t know how else to say it, man,

I’m worried about you.

Leon Cruz: Then pay Flaco his buyout and be done with it. Oh, but

you don’t got ten grand, right? So why are we still

talking?

Look, just keep your nose out of my business before

you get my ass kicked again.

Joe Cruz: Leon, man.

Leon!

[grunts]

[station alarm buzzes and blares]

(Over PA): Shift 51, Truck 81, Ambulance 61.

[indistinct radio chatter]

Lady 1: I was deep-frying eggplant. I turned my back for a minute

and there were flames everywhere. I… I tried to beat it out

with a towel, I just…[continues indistinctly]

Matt Casey: Let these two take care of that hand.

Chief Boden: (into radio) Truck 81 is on the scene.

[smoke alarm beeping]

Christopher Herrmann: Aah… turn off that smoke detector.

[fire extinguisher spraying]

Matt Casey: All right, let’s do a quick walk-through, open some

windows, get this place vented.

[beeping stops]

Mouch: Holy moly. These folks must be the 1% I keep hearing

about.

Otis Zvonecek: Oh, you guys! This priceless piece of artwork has

been destroyed.

Oh, wait. Nevermind. It’s supposed to look like that.

Mouch: [chuckles]

Gabby Dawson: All right?

Lady 1: Thank you.

Matt Casey: Probably need a new countertop, but everything else is

okay.

Lady 1: Oh my God, thank you.

[kissing sound]

Lady 1: Thank you so much.

(Over radio): Truck 81, are you available to assist at a pin-in

accident?

Matt Casey: (into radio) Truck 81 responding.

Pack her up. We got another call.

[siren blares]

[horn honks]

Lady 1: Come back! Somebody stop them!

Chief Boden: Ma’am, what’s the problem?

Lady 1: My diamond necklace was sitting right there on my dresser,

and now it’s gone. And one of those firemen took it.

[siren fading]

- Title -

Christopher Herrmann: [groans]

Matt Casey: What’s the matter, Herrmann?

[truck door shuts]

Man 1: Matthew Casey. How about that?

Matt Casey: What are you doing here, Griffin?

Man 1 (Ted Griffin): I’m with Internal Affairs Division now.

Christopher Herrmann: What’s the IAD doing here?

Otis Zvonecek: CPD too.

Matt Casey: What the hell’s going on?

Man 1 (Ted Griffin): A woman on Green Street said somebody

walked off with her diamond necklace.

Mouch: What?

Otis Zvonecek: [grunts]

Matt Casey: This is a joke, right?

Man 2 (Detective): No joke, Lieutenant.

Matt Casey: My men aren’t thieves.

Man 2 (Detective): All the same. We’re talking about a 50,000 dollar

piece of jewellery.

Man 1 (Ted Griffin): That’s a class 2 felony.

Chief Boden: Casey, the police need to take statements from you

and the men.

Man 1 (Ted Griffin): And I’m gonna need you to fill out a form too.

Basic stuff… where you worked in the fire,

who you worked with, if you saw the missing

item or anything else at all suspicious.

Matt Casey: Can I have a minute?

Truck Firefighter: Man…

Chief Boden: I know what you’re gonna say.

Matt Casey: On my best day, I’d have to fight the urge to choke that

guy out. Today’s not my best day.

Chief Boden: The possible theft of a 50,000 dollar necklace

supersedes any concerns about your personal

feelings toward Ted Griffin.

Matt Casey: Chief, you know as well as I do, none of my men took

that necklace.

Chief Boden: I hope not, ‘cause I don’t want to see any of them

lose their job and face criminal charges. And I don’t

want to see their Lieutenant get a black mark on his

record, so let’s just play this one by the book.

Matt Casey: [exhales]

Chief Boden: Good.

cutscene

Kelly Severide: Yeah, stop right here.

Squad Firefighters: Go ahead, lover boy.

Yeah, go break her heart, huh?

[squad door shuts]

Squad Firefighter: Never thought I’d see the day.

[chuckling]

[knocks on door]

Kelly Severide: Uh, hey. Um, does Renee Royce live here?

Man 3 (Renee’s Assistant): [scoffs] Renee, there’s a fireman here

for you.

Renee Royce: Excuse me, gentlemen.

Thanks, Ray.

Hi.

Kelly Severide: Uh, don’t mean to interrupt. Um, I know you said

you worked from home on Fridays, and uh…

Renee Royce: And you just pictured me all alone answering emails

in my underwear?

Kelly Severide: Well, I am now.

Renee Royce: Mmhmm.

Wow, these are, um, gorgeous. Thank you.

Kelly Severide: How about dinner tomorrow night? No interruptions

this time, I promise.

Renee Royce: Okay. All right.

Kelly Severide: Okay.

Renee Royce: Okay.

Kelly Severide: I’ll see you then, Royce.

Renee Royce: Okay, Severide.

cutscene

Gabby Dawson: [chuckles] Wait, so what exactly do you have

against Mills?

Leslie Shay: Not a thing. He’s adorable. He’s like a harmless little

puppy dog.

Gabby Dawson: Yeah, a puppy dog with a little wolf blood in him.

[chuckling]

Gabby Dawson: Hey, what’s up, Chief?

Leslie Shay: Hey, Chief [clears throat]

Chief Boden: Sit.

Leslie Shay: Uh, Chief, is this about the diamond necklace Dawson

stole at the residence…

Gabby Dawson: Hey.

Chief Boden: Someone from another shift apparently just told your

field chief that sometime in November, four units of

Toradol went missing from your rig during your shift.

Gabby Dawson: What?

Leslie Shay: Hm?

Gabby Dawson: Who’s saying this? I bet you it was Lowell.

Chief Boden: Don’t you worry about who said it.

Gabby Dawson: And why are they waiting till now to say anything?

Chief Boden: That’s probably because they heard IAD is sniffing

around our house. They want to cast the blame if

any more narcotics turned up missing.

Gabby Dawson: You know some junkie probably stole it off the rig

when we were busy saving his friend.

Chief Boden: That may be so. But it’s on you, Dawson.

So the two of you knock your heads together,

get back to me with your official version about what

happened by the end of the shift.

Gabby Dawson: Yeah, we’ll figure it out, Chief.

Chief Boden: You better.

Leslie Shay: [exhales] Thanks.

Chief Boden: You’re welcome.

cutscene

Peter Mills: We saved this lady’s house. Where does she come off

accusing us of stealing…

Mouch: It’s not like it’s without precedent. Back in the day, I worked

with Pat “The Pinch” Osbourne. Had fingers like flypaper.

The roof could be caving in on us, and Pat would take a

moment to rescue the silverware.

Peter Mills: So… what’s the deal with the Lieutenant and the guy

from IAD?

Christopher Herrmann: Uh, eh, bad history. They went through the

academy together.

And… there was an incident.

Peter Mills: What kind of incident?

Mouch: The kind that ends with Griffin getting his face punched in.

Peter Mills: Wait, why… why did the Lieutenant hit him?

Mouch: He was talking trash about Casey’s family.

Um, but, see… we don’t talk about that.

Otis Zvonecek: Whoa, whoa, whoa, guys, here we go. Here we go.

Hey, Lieutenant. Lieutenant, check this out.

The people with all the artwork… Sandra and uh,

Richard Vaughn… they’re selling their entire art

collection at auction.

Matt Casey: I already finished my Christmas shopping.

Otis Zvonecek: No, no, no, no. Think about it. You don’t sell your

art collection. Your children sell your art collection

after you die, or… you sell it if you need the

money.

Matt Casey: Otis, I have things to do.

Otis Zvonecek: The… the diamond necklace, it’s an insurance

scam.

Matt Casey: So this woman nearly burned down her home in some

elaborate scheme to get firefighters in there so she

could accuse…

Otis Zvonecek: No.

Matt Casey: ‘em of stealing a necklace?

Otis Zvonecek: She didn’t set the fire. But when it happened,

she saw an opportunity to cash in.

Matt Casey: Yeah. You should write that down.

Otis Zvonecek: [sighs] Okay, I will.

cutscene

Christopher Herrmann: All right.

Gabby Dawson: Shay, your ride’s here.

Christopher Herrmann: There you go. Thanks.

Otis Zvonecek: Great.

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah.

Gabby Dawson: [chuckles] You going to the prom, Herrmann?

Christopher Herrmann: Hey, this is the flagship for Caesar

limousine.

Your chariot awaits, ma’am.

Gabby Dawson: Ooh.

Christopher Herrmann: This guy, he’s liquidating his company.

I can only afford one vehicle to start,

but I figure I roll the profits of this one

into the next, and then the next,

and before you know it, I have a

whole fleet.

Airport runs, weddings, prom season.

Otis Zvonecek: Really, Herrmann?

Christopher Herrmann: Hey… I was smart enough to bring my own

mechanic to the negotiations. Severide got

the guy to knock 1,500 dollars off

the price.

Kelly Severide: You’re gonna have to spend some of that money to

fix this charging issue. And you definitely need to

replace the timing belt.

cutscene

Leslie Shay: And I thought I replaced every vial I gave you, but I

must have lost count.

Kelly Severide: Hey. How can they bust you for something that

somebody said happened a month ago?

It’s their word against yours.

Leslie Shay: If it were my ass on the line, I’d put up a fight.

But Dawson’s the PIC. It’s her ass on the line.

Kelly Severide: Well, I don’t know what to tell you.

Leslie Shay: No, you’re right.

It’s not your problem. You got what you needed.

Kelly Severide: That… Shay.

[station alarm buzzes]

Kelly Severide: Shay.

[station alarm blares]

(Over PA): Ambulance 61, Truck 81. Gunshot victim,

67 North Avenue.

Matt Casey: Capp, move this thing, will you?

Capp: You got it.

[engine sputtering]

Christopher Herrmann: Oh, please, please start.

[engine starts]

Christopher Herrmann: Yes!

(Over PA): Be advised. Reports of multiple gunshot victims,

Humboldt Park.

Matt Casey: Humboldt Park. As predicted.

[truck engine starts]

[door shuts]

[siren wails]

[truck door shuts]

Matt Casey: Everybody back up. Give ‘em some room.

Gabby Dawson: Hey, Shay, let’s get a “C” collar on her. Get her in

the back of the ambo and start an IV.

Matt Casey: Is this the one?

Police Officer: The other two are DOA. It was a drive-by vehicle to

vehicle. Girl was hit by a stray. Shooters are long

gone.

Matt Casey: Check these two, just in case.

Joe Cruz: I’m on it, Lieutenant.

Gang Unit Detective: What colour was it? The car, what colour?

Was it an SUV, a Sedan… what? Hey,

come on, man, my partner heard you say

you saw the other car.

Man 4 (Eyewitness): Not really. I mean, it all happened so fast, man.

[music playing from car]

cutscene

Leon Cruz: Yo.

Joe Cruz: Yo? Leon, I left you like four messages.

Leon Cruz: Busy day.

Joe Cruz: Yeah, no kidding. We just got a call on a drive by on

Augusta and Pulaski, and your boy Flaco was

behind it.

Leon Cruz: Yo, can I call you later?

Joe Cruz: Are you with him right now?

Leon Cruz: Mmhmm.

Joe Cruz: It don’t matter. I’m gonna do the talking.

There’s gonna be retaliation, Leon, and I know you know

that. You gotta put some daylight between you and

Flaco.

[locker door shuts]

Joe Cruz: Listen, Leon… I know you think you don’t got a way out

of this life, but you do. I can help you. Not… not right

this minute, but I can help you get out. Just say the

word. You want my help, just say so.

Leon Cruz: So.

cutscene

Leslie Shay: There you go, sweetie. Get in there. Have a seat.

You’re gonna catch a cold out here.

Gabby Dawson: [sighs] Okay, James, I’m gonna take your blood

pressure. Is that okay?

Man 5 (James): Will it hurt?

Gabby Dawson: I do it every time, and you always ask me if it’s

gonna hurt.

Man 5 (James): You never know.

Gabby Dawson: I don’t know, it’s just too soon to ask Casey.

This isn’t the first time his relationship with

Hallie flatlined. And if it somehow gets revived

again, and she finds out that I asked him on a

date…

Leslie Shay: Won’t you regret it if you don’t ask him, though?

Gabby Dawson: [sighs] It’s gotta be Mills. He’s just the more

appropriate choice.

Leslie Shay: I guess you’re right.

Oh, for your dress, there’s this new shop on Damen.

Gabby Dawson: No way. I sprained my credit card Christmas

shopping. I’ll just recycle something.

Oh, 110 over 60! James… you’re like a triathlete.

Leslie Shay: You’re good to go, sweetie. We’ll take you in and get

you your meds, okay?

Gabby Dawson: Oh, James, that reminds me. Did you steal any

Toradol from us last month?

I’m totally kidding [laughs]

cutscene

Gabby Dawson: Hey, give me a minute.

Quick question [clears throat]

Saturday… what are you doing?

Matt Casey: Depends. What do you got?

Gabby Dawson: Um, my cousin, the poster child for better homes &

gardens, throws this really super fancy Christmas

party every year. There’s a string quartet, plum

pudding, nutmeg sprinkled on the eggnog. It’s so

perfect you want to vomit.

Matt Casey: Sounds awesome. And you need a date?

Gabby Dawson: Yeah. I mean, I just need a friend to bring along,

really.

Matt Casey: Oh. Then maybe you should ask Mouch.

If you’re up for a date, tell me what time to pick you

up.

Gabby Dawson: 7 o’clock?

Matt Casey: Great.

Gabby Dawson: [whispers] Yeah, I need a new dress.

cutscene

Christopher Herrmann: Chief, are you just gonna let these pretend

cops violate our civil rights?

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah, don’t they need to show us a warrant or

something?

Chief Boden: They are well within their authority to search firehouse

property.

Peter Mills: Even our personal lockers?

Man 1 (Ted Griffin): You mean the department’s lockers?

Besides, it shouldn’t bother you if you’re not

hiding something.

Matt Casey: Griffin, can I have a moment with you?

Chief Boden: Locker room, guys. Come on.

Man 1 (Ted Griffin): What? You want to punch me again?

Matt Casey: When’s the last time IAD searched an entire house?

Man 1 (Ted Griffin): A firefighter stole a 50,000 dollar necklace,

and it’s my job to find out who. But don’t

blame me if you suddenly regret assaulting

a fellow classmate.

Matt Casey: Regret it? I’m glad I did it. You weren’t the first idiot to

make a crack about my family. You’re the last.

No one’s brought it up again since I laid your ass out.

Man 1 (Ted Griffin): Sucker punched.

Matt Casey: You saw it coming.

Man 1 (Ted Griffin): The only ones who saw it were your buddies.

None of whom had the integrity to say what

really happened.

By the way… how is your mom?

Chief Boden: Hey! Hey!

Man 1 (Ted Griffin): Whoa, whoa, whoa. Casey blood sure runs hot,

don’t it?

Chief Boden: Do your job.

cutscene

Leslie Shay: Remember that one call we went on at D and

University?

Gabby Dawson: Which one?

Leslie Shay: We got a block away, and we realised the jump bag

was sitting on the curb. I think that’s when the vials

went missing.

Damn girl, you wear that dress, I’ll be your date.

Gabby Dawson: I don’t know. I feel kind of naked.

Leslie Shay: It’s perfect.

Excuse me. Ring this up.

Gabby Dawson: Oh, no, um, I need to think about this one for a

minute. Thank you.

Is everything okay?

Leslie Shay: Yeah. Why?

Gabby Dawson: You seem more worked up over this Toradol thing

than I am.

Leslie Shay: No, I’m not worried.

(Over radio): Ambo 61, what is your location?

Leslie Shay: (into radio) Ambulance 61. We’re at Armitage and

Damen.

(Over radio): Take in a working fire. 1100 block North Hamlin.

Gabby Dawson: Okay, I’ll take the other one.

[station alarm buzzes & blares]

(Over PA): Engine 51, Truck 81…

[cheering]

Matt Casey: Let’s go.

(Over PA): Squad 3, Battalion 25, Ambulance 61. House fire,

1100 block…

Man 1 (Ted Griffin): This house was supposed to be taken out of

service.

Chief Boden: You never made that request. So now you guys are

gonna have to sit tight…

[locker door shuts]

Chief Boden: Until these men get back.

[engine starts]

Otis Zvonecek: That address is Humboldt Park again, isn’t it?

[sirens blaring]

Chief Boden: This is Battalion Chief Boden at 1140 of North Hamlin.

Police Officer: We responded to a call of a gang shooting into the

building. They torched it and fled before we got

here.

Chief Boden: Who’s inside? Another gang? Any civilians?

Police Officer: You know as much as I do.

Chief Boden: Could be gang members inside. I count six

mailboxes. That fire has reached the structure.

Victim 1: Help me!

Matt Casey: Mouch, Otis, on the aerial. Get ready to vent the roof.

Herrmann, Mills, Cruz, with me.

Chief Boden: Be careful.

[siren wailing and comes to a stop]

[gunshots]

Firefighter: Get clear! Get clear!

Matt Casey: I got you, Herrmann.

Christopher Herrmann: [grunts]

Chief Boden: (into radio) This is the Chicago Fire Department.

Lay down your weapons. We are trying to help you!

[gunshots]

Chief Boden: Cruz!

Joe Cruz: [speaking Spanish]

We’re not police. You’re gonna die if you stay in there.

Let us help you!

I’m coming in.

Matt Casey: Cruz!

Joe Cruz: Don’t shoot!

[door breaking]

Joe Cruz: [speaking Spanish]

Chief Boden: Cruz!

Joe Cruz: [speaking Spanish] Don’t shoot!

You the Kings?

Insane Kings. I’m Leon’s brother. Where is he?

Where is he? Where is he?

Christopher Herrmann: That’s the shooter. Get over here,

you punk. Take a look at him.

Joe Cruz: Hey, we’re in! Let’s go!

Matt Casey: Take the infrared. Mills, catch up with Cruz.

Herrmann… you okay?

Christopher Herrmann: I’m gonna crack one of those punks upside

their head.

Matt Casey: No. You’re gonna sit this one out.

Severide.

Kelly Severide: Let’s go.

[ladder raising]

Joe Cruz: Here you go. Put your arm around me.

You’re doing fine. Keep going.

Come on, just take it easy. You’re almost there.

All right, here we go.

Hey, somebody take this guy.

Christopher Herrmann: We got him.

We got you.

Shay!

Gabby Dawson: We got you, sir. Here you go.

[chatter on police radio]

Victim 3: [coughing] Help us! [coughing] Help up!

Chief Boden: (into radio) We got a woman and a kid on the second

floor. Front, center.

Matt Casey: (into radio) We’ll get ‘em.

Victim 3: Help us.

Kelly Severide: Fire department! Call out!

Victim 3: Help!

[coughing] Help us!

[coughing]

Matt Casey: Let’s go.

Victim 3: [coughs] My little one. I don’t know where he is.

Matt Casey: Severide’ll find him, but we need to go.

Victim 3: You don’t understand, I need to find him.

Matt Casey: Ma’am, we need to go right now.

Victim 3: Marco!

[doors breaking]

Peter Mills: Hello! Anybody in here?

Joe Cruz: Anybody in here?

All clear.

Peter Mills: Clear!

Matt Casey: Come on. Come on, buddy.

Victim 3: Please.

Matt Casey: We’re gonna find him.

Victim 3: [coughing] Marco! Marco!

Matt Casey: Ma’am!

Kelly Severide: I got him!

Joe Cruz: Get this guy out of here!

Peter Mills: Cruz, hold up. I’ll be back!

Come on, buddy. Up. I got you.

[knocks on door]

Joe Cruz: Fire department! Clear the door!

Anybody in here? Call out!

Victim 4: [coughing]

Peter Mills: Come on.

Victim 3: [coughing]

Chief Boden: Got two minors, smoke inhalation. Get ‘em to the

ambos.

Christopher Herrmann: Let’s go.

Chief Boden: What do we got?

Kelly Severide: First and second floor are clear.

Victim 5: My leg!

Peter Mills: Watch your step here.

Victim 5: [groaning and grunting]

Matt Casey: Mills.

Peter Mills: Yeah?

Matt Casey: Where’s Cruz?

Peter Mills: He’s still up there.

Joe Cruz: (over radio) This is Cruz on (into radio) three. All clear.

Headed up to four now.

Matt Casey: (into radio) Cruz, wait for me. I’m coming up.

[infrared beeping]

[bangs on door]

Joe Cruz: Move away from the door.

[grunts]

Fire department! Call out!

Victim 6: [coughing]

Joe Cruz: Leon!

Victim 6: [coughing]

Joe Cruz: Leon!

Victim 6 (Flaco): [coughing]

Thank God. Joe… help me…

[coughing & wheezing] Help me!

[coughing] Please!

[coughing] Please! Help…

[wheezing] Joe!

[door shuts]

Joe Cruz: (into radio) This is Cruz up top. All clear.

cutscene

Chief Boden: [exhales] Hell of a job you did out there, Joe.

Hey… we missed one.

Don’t beat yourself up about it. If you hadn’t gotten us

through that gauntlet, we might have missed them all.

Otis Zvonecek: Casey. Hey, you’re not gonna believe this.

So I ordered a background check on Sandra and

Richard Vaughn…

Matt Casey: Otis I don’t…

Otis Zvonecek: And they are leveraged up to their eyeballs. It’s one

judgement after the next. They… They’re staving

off bankruptcy. They’re in financial ruin. And

Mr. Vaughn… investigated twice for wire fraud.

236 subscribers are gonna hear about this on my

next podcast.

Man 1 (Ted Griffin): Well, Lieutenant Casey. Four hour call, huh?

That was… pretty convenient.

Matt Casey: It’s insurance fraud. The woman with the diamonds?

They’re broke.

Man 1 (Ted Griffin): What do you do off-shift, drive around in a van

solving mysteries?

[door shuts]

Matt Casey: Ugh.

[knocks on door]

Man 1 (Ted Griffin): Lieutenant Casey. You’re up.

Matt Casey: What is it you’re hoping for, Griffin?

Man 1 (Ted Griffin): Toss the room. Search him.

Matt Casey: Seriously? Come on.

It’s all yours.

cutscene

Leslie Shay: It was extremely careless on our part. You leave a bag

of full medication on a curb at a college campus,

you’re asking for trouble.

Chief Boden: And you are gonna be so much more careful in the

future, right?

Leslie Shay: Yes, sir.

Gabby Dawson: Absolutely, Chief.

Chief Boden: Hmm. Okay.

Just write down what you told me. Don’t sign

anywhere until you bring these back, because I

have to witness your signatures. If you would

like Mouch to go over it with you as your union

representative, you do have that right.

Gabby Dawson: You want us to sign it in blood, or will blue ink

suffice?

Chief Boden: Don’t you drag your heels now.

Gabby Dawson: No, we’ll get it right back to you, Chief.

Chief Boden: Shay… one moment.

Leslie Shay: What is it, Chief?

Chief Boden: Nothing. Go on.

cutscene

[R&B music playing]

[panting, kissing sounds & moaning]

Renee Royce: Skinny margaritas.

Kelly Severide: What?

Renee Royce: Skinny on the calories, not the alcohol.

Kelly Severide: Ah! Ahh.

You have a really nice place.

Renee Royce: Mmm, thank you.

Kelly Severide: Guess it pays to work in… foreign financial…

Renee Royce: International finance law. Yes, it does. But I want to

hear about you and how you fight fires every day.

Kelly Severide: It’s not every day. On 24, off 48.

Renee Royce: Oh yeah?

Kelly Severide: Yeah.

Renee Royce: I didn’t know that.

Kelly Severide: Uh, huh.

Renee Royce: And then what do you like to do on your off days?

Kelly Severide: I repair boats up near Monroe Harbour.

Renee Royce: Um, do you go out to the lake much?

Kelly Severide: Yeah, more in the summers, but…

Renee Royce: Mmm. I haven’t been out in a while

Kelly Severide: I’ll take you some time.

Renee Royce: Oh, will you now?

Kelly Severide: Any time you want, Royce. Just say the word.

Renee Royce: Hmm.

Kelly Severide: What?

Renee Royce: Who was she?

Kelly Severide: What do you mean?

Renee Royce: The Renee that ruined my name.

Kelly Severide: She was my fiancée.

cutscene

[car door shuts]

[knocks on door]

Matt Casey: Evening, ma’am.

Lady 1 (Sandra Vaughn): Can I help you?

Matt Casey: I just wanted to apologise on behalf of Truck 81 for

your missing item, and to let you know we’re going

to get to the bottom of it.

Lady 1 (Sandra Vaughn): Well, I should hope so.

Matt Casey: This is a thermal imaging camera. It’s a really great

piece of technology. It helps us see through the

thickest smoke.

Lady 1 (Sandra Vaughn): Okay.

Matt Casey: We all carry them, and we leave them recording the

whole time we’re on a call. And actually I’m on my

way to drop all our cameras off with the police so

they can review the footage, and see exactly what

happened the entire time my men and I were inside

your home.

So don’t worry.

Lady 1 (Sandra Vaughn): Okay. Is that it?

Matt Casey: Yeah.

Lady 1 (Sandra Vaughn): Great. So maybe you should leave now.

[door shuts]

cutscene

[locker opening and things falling out]

Man 1 (Ted Griffin): Son, you’re a slob.

Man 6 (Man in uniform): Got something.

Man 1 (Ted Griffin): Oh yeah. Oh boy. Gimme that. Gimme that.

Oh, false alarm. Just an adorable pair of kitty

cat cufflinks.

Mouch: It’s the maneki-neko, a Japanese good luck charm.

And those were a Christmas gift if you don’t mind.

Man 1 (Ted Griffin): Hey, domo arigato, Mr. Roboto.

Mouch: That doesn’t even make sense.

Man 1 (Ted Griffin): Chief Boden, have you been able to locate

Lieutenant Casey?

Matt Casey: I’m right here.

[cell phone rings]

Man 1 (Ted Griffin): Griffin.

Is that a fact?

That’s very interesting.

No, thank you.

The diamonds slipped down into a heat

found ‘em.

Mouch: You gotta be kidding me.

Christopher Herrmann: What a surprise.

Man 1 (Ted Griffin): Less paperwork for me. Hallelujah. Let’s go.

Do say hi to your mom for me.

Matt Casey: Door’s that way.

[door shuts]

Christopher Herrmann: All right… so what’d you do?

Matt Casey: Nothing. I just told her we recorded the whole thing on

our thermal cameras, you know.

Christopher Herrmann: Yeaahhh…

Peter Mills: Wait, thermal cameras don’t record.

Christopher Herrmann: [gasps]

Peter Mills: Oh. That’s good.

Christopher Herrmann: Ooh.

Capp: Casey, you have a visitor in the briefing room.

Matt Casey: Chris. This is a nice surprise. Merry Christmas.

[kissing sound]

Christie: Yeah, Matt. Merry Christmas.

Almost done shopping [chuckles]

I couldn’t remember if you’re a large or extra large,

but there’s a gift receipt in there.

Matt Casey: Oh. That’s really sweet. Thank you.

Christie: Since we saw you at the cemetery… Violet’s been pretty

flipped out. “Why doesn’t Uncle Matt ever come to see

us? And does he not like us? Do you not like him?”

And she shouldn’t have to be asking those questions.

And… that’s on you and me.

Matt Casey: Absolutely it is, yeah.

Christie: I feel like she’s been without her uncle, and… I’ve been

without my brother for too long.

Matt Casey: Yeah, I want nothing more than for us to be in each

other’s lives. The last time we talked about it…

Christie: I know. I remember the conversation.

Matt Casey: [sighs]

Christie: [exhales] So you’re still defending her?

Matt Casey: I’m not gonna turn my back on her.

Christie: Don’t you miss dad?

cutscene

Matt Casey: Yeah, but there’s something.

Gabby Dawson: Excuse me one second. I need to steal him.

Matt Casey: Um, uh, bye.

Drink?

Gabby Dawson: Oh, thank you.

Oh, I can’t wait to show you this room.

Matt Casey: Okay.

Ooh.

Wow.

Gabby Dawson: It’s nice, right?

Matt Casey: Yeah.

Gabby Dawson: [clears throat] Oh, and hey, I promise I won’t let my

aunt corner you again [chuckles] like that.

I’m sorry.

Matt Casey: [chuckles] It’s okay. She’s… she’s fun.

Gabby Dawson: Yeah, she’s better when you’re drunk.

Oh, better learn how to keep up, buddy boy.

Matt Casey: Yeah.

Both: [chuckles]

Gabby Dawson: I mean… are we just here as friends, or… is this a

date?

Matt Casey: I can’t. I mean…

Gabby Dawson: No, yeah. I get it.

Matt Casey: It’s not a good time.

Gabby Dawson: [clears throat]

Matt Casey: Because it’s worth doing right.

Right?

Lady 2: Oops sorry. Don’t mind us.

Gabby Dawson: [clears throat] Uh, you ready for dessert?

I’m ready… for dessert?

cutscene

Leon Cruz: This is crazy, bro. I was just up there, like, ten minutes

before it all went down. Flaco sent me to get Shorty.

Otherwise… I don’t know…[sighs] Somebody’s gotta

be up there looking out for me.

Joe, you okay?

Joe Cruz: I can’t. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I…

[breathing unsteadily]

cutscene

Kelly Severide: You’re up early.

Leslie Shay: You know I love you, right?

Kelly Severide: Okay, what’s going on?

Leslie Shay: I love you because I know you’d stick your neck out for

me the way I have for you.

Kelly Severide: Of course I would.

Leslie Shay: And I did that to get you over the hump.

Kelly Severide: Which you totally did.

Leslie Shay: And then I found these in the trash.

Kelly Severide: Those are ol… they’re old.

Leslie Shay: I perjured myself for you, Kelly.

Kelly Severide: Shay…

Leslie Shay: I’m out.

Kelly Severide: Whoa, whoa, whoa. What do you mean?

Leslie Shay: I mean I’m out. We had a deal… we wouldn’t get in

each other’s business, but I can’t hold up my end.

So I’m out.

Kelly Severide: Shay, it’s okay. I got it.

I got it. I got it.

Leslie Shay: No, you don’t got it!

I’m not gonna sit here and watch you… just fool

yourself.

I’ll get the rest of my stuff later.

Kelly Severide: Shay, hey, please don’t go.

Please don’t…please don’t do this.

[door opens and shuts]

Kelly Severide: [sighs]

cutscene

Joe Cruz: [breathing unsteadily]

[cell phone vibrates]

Voicemail (Matt Casey): This is Matt Casey. Leave it here and I’ll

call you back.

Joe Cruz: Lieutenant, it’s Joe Cruz. Um… Casey, man, I need to talk

to you. Uh… It’s really important. I, uh… [sighs] I, um…

cutscene

[whistle blowing]

Gabby Dawson: Here we go. I’ll make my brother get the rest of

your stuff tomorrow. And you are totally welcome

to stay with me as long as you want.

Leslie Shay: Thanks.

Gabby Dawson: You gonna tell me what he did?

Leslie Shay: No. You gonna tell me how your date went?

Gabby Dawson: Nope.

He’s good.

Police Officer: Thank you.

[dispatcher chatter over radio]

Leslie Shay: Come on, give me something.

Gabby Dawson: [chuckles] Well, I was right about Casey. He’s still

into Hallie. And I’m an idiot.

cutscene

[whistle blows]

[door buzzes]

Matt Casey: Hi, mom.

cutscene

[traffic]

Leslie Shay: Tomorrow night, you and me are gonna have a few

margaritas.

Gabby Dawson: Heh! A few pitchers, you mean.

Leslie Shay: Yeah, that was implied.

[horn blaring]

[cars & truck skidding]

Shay & Dawson: [gasps]

[truck and ambo crash]

- end -

Definitions:

Buyout = Purchase of the target’s outstanding debt.

Internal Affairs Division = A division of a law enforcement agency which investigates cases of allegations of misconduct and complaints against any member of the fire department, and the necessary actions taken.

Toradol = Nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drug. It works by reducing hormones that cause inflammation and pain in the body. Toradol is used short-term (5 days or less) to treat moderate to severe pain.

PIC = Paramedic in charge

C-collar = Cervical collars (C collars) are used to support your spinal cord and head, and to limit the movement of your neck and head. They’re typically meant for short-term use while you recover from an injury, surgery, or pain.

DOA = Dead on arrival

Drive-by vehicle to vehicle = Shooting someone in a moving car from a moving car

Thermal imaging camera = Type of thermographic camera used in fire fighting. By rendering infrared radiation as visible light, such cameras allow firefighters to see areas of heat through smoke, darkness, or heat-permeable barriers.

Maneki-neko = Common Japanese figurine, which is often believed to bring good luck to the owner. The figurine depicts a cat, traditionally a calico Japanese Bobtail, with a paw raised in a Japanese beckoning gesture.

Domo arigato = Japanese phrase meaning “Thanks a lot”. The Japanese phrase said in this episode is part of a Japanese song.

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yaachtynoboat711 · 6 years ago

Text

Fonder Ch. 5

A/N: Oh, boy! I’ve personally been waiting on doing this chapter. There’s a bit of a curve ball in our favorite couple’s journey back together. If y’all thought y’all hated me in Chapter 1, then get ready for this chapter. 😘😘😘

Word Count: 2.2K

Warning(s): Slow burn, plot progression, few errors/typos

The months following Yaa’s most recent encounter with her ex-boyfriend left her more hurt and emotionally distant than before. She didn’t go out like she usually did; her nights out were substituted with take out and binge-watching movies and TV shows. She wasn’t as bubbly as she usually was. In an attempt to distract herself from her pain, she turned to her drug of choice: work. At any given moment, Yaa was more than likely working if she weren’t sleeping or eating. She took on a heavier workload and miraculously met success with the cases she worked on. As the year came to a close, Yaa had realized that her year had been trash. She lost the love of her life over some fuck shit and realized that her love life, if you could even call it that, was a joke.

Everyone around Yaa hated to see her in such a sad state. She’d said she was fine but everyone knew she was suffering. So much so, her family surprised her for Christmas in D.C. and stayed with her for a week. While the surprise visit definitely boosted her spirits, she continued working her frustrations out. She’d felt played—she’d allowed the supposed love of he life to take advantage of their relationship twice. She was physically, emotionally,and spiritually tired.

Her luck changed with a call from Tanisha one afternoon.

“Clear your schedule for New Year’s Eve: you got invited to the Black Gatsby soirée by Mr. Gatsby himself.”, Tanisha stated in a matter of fact.

Yaa took the phone away from her ear and stared at it, fully aware of Tanisha’s distant voice calling her name. “Girl, what?”

“You heard me. Mr. Gatsby has invited yo fine ass to the Black soirée on New Year’s Eve.”

“Mr. Gatsby? Bitch, you know he’s a fictional white character from a book,right? Not just any book—my favorite book. Francis Scott Fitzgerald would somersault in his grave if he knew a Black man was tryna play his character.”

Tanisha snorted. “I know. For the sake of anonymity, that’s what he’s referring to himself as. Just come to Cali and live ,bitch. I’m sick of seeing you all sad and overworked and shit. You deserve more; you’re 24 and full of life. Ring in the new year with a refreshing turn up. Live a little, bitch. I’ll be calling again this week to make sure you’re coming.” Beep beep beep.

Yaa spent the rest of that day thinking about what Tanisha said. Who was Mr. Gatsby? What did he want her ? Finding out his identity and his motives were the least of her worries. As rough as her year was, she deserved to party like it was 1922. Live a little, bitch.

———

Yaa spent the next month speculating who this Mr. Gatsby character could be. He’d sent many gifts On what would’ve been her and Winston’s first anniversary, Gatsby sent 3 dozen of her favorite roses— pink, white, and yellow— to her office with a note:

You deserve more today. Think not of what should be, but what is now.—JG

For Christmas, Gatsby sent Yaa a gold circle necklace with a single pearl dangling from the middle of the circle. Same note. These grandiose gestures left Yaa shook: she’d been out-extra’d by an anonymous admirer. She immediately ruled Winston out because he just wasn’t a frivolous spender and though he was being a fuck nigga at the moment, he was too humble to even think about doing all the things Gatsby had done for and sent her.

Tuesday, December 30, 2014, Malibu, California

Matt picked Yaa up from the airport per usual. On the way to Malibu, he picked Tanisha up as well. While en route to the house, Tanisha caught Matt up with the tea involving his ex-turned-best friend.

“Wait...so there’s a secret admirer...calling himself ‘Gatsby’...only communicates through Neesh...and is inviting you to a New Year’s party?! What the hell?”, Matt recalled.

“Well, I’ll say this: she knows who he is, but he’s not giving up his identity just yet.”, Tanisha suggested. Yaa’s neck whipped to look at Tanisha’s smirking face; she wasn’t lying.

“So, it’s not Wins? Confirmed?”, Yaa asked.

“I’m absolutely, positively certain it’s not Winston, sis. Buhlee dat!”, Tanisha assured.

Something told Yaa to check her mailbox. True, she didn’t have reasons to have mail after being away from her Malibu home for not even two months, but it never hurt to look. When she looked inside, she was met with a matte black envelope. The words “ Khalida Y.D. Abdullah, Esq.” were beautifully calligraphed on the front of the envelope in gold ink. She turned the envelope to see “JG” stamped in gold wax. Homeboy puttin’ in that work. Before she opened the envelope, she noticed a medium-sized box wrapped in a similar matte black wrapping paper.

“Boy, this nigga tryna gift you clean out yo draws, I see.”, Matt observed as he picked the box up for Yaa, scaring her.

“You sound a pinch jealous, Griff.”, Yaa teased.

Matt rolled his eyes, “Whatever. I gave you the world and a Super Bowl ring, woman. Remember that.”

“Correction: you gave me one of my two rings. Don’t play with me.”, she playfully snapped back, kissing his nose as he walked into the house with the box.

He gently sat the box in front of Yaa’s usual spot on her L-shaped sectional. Tanisha finally joined Matt and Yaa in the living room and took notice of Gatsby’s packages. Yaa kicked the box over on its side.

“The hell you do that for?!”, Tanisha demanded.

“Bitch, this coulda been a well packaged pipe bomb for all its worth.”, Yaa answered.

Tanisha wagged her finger at her best friend. “Somebody needs to ban Forensic Files from your Netflix queue.”

Yaa rolled her eyes as she began opening the envelope. Whoever was responsible for the letter was very abreast to detail. The letter was typed on a typewriter, a personal bonus for Yaa as she was the proud owner of a vintage typewriter.

Yaa--

By the time you read this letter, you will already be back in sunny California. Also, if you are reading this letter, then you have instinctively followed directions. In the box is a special gift for tomorrow night; I hope you enjoy them. Secondly, upon your and Ms. Holloway’s arrival, there will be two attendants escorting you to your VIP section. The people at the door will know exactly who are. When you go to coat check, ask the attendant for directions to “The Pit”. Upon your question, you’ll be taken to through the VIP entrance. Your access code word is bubbly. Can’t wait to see you.

The Pit? That sounds familiar. Hella familiar. Yaa moved to the box. The matte black wrapping paper was too pretty destroy, but fuck it. Her eyes shot open when she saw silver strappy heels in the box. “Oooh, this’ll go perfectly with my dress for tomorrow!”, she yelled out. The turn-up countdown had commenced.

NEW YEAR’S EVE

Tanisha and Yaa had a sleepover and went straight into preparation mode for the evening when they woke up that afternoon. After getting their hair and makeup done, the two returned to Yaa’s house to change. “Sis, can you zip me up?”, Yaa yelled as she sashayed to the other side of the hall. Tanisha responded back that she was coming but then stopped and began to whistle at her best friend’s floor-length dusty rose gown. The embellishments gave the gown a modern Gatsby remix. She wore the silver shoes Gatsby sent. Her locs were styled into a curly chignon and accessorized with a pearl headpiece.

“My goodness, Yaa!”, Tanisha complimented.

“Why, thank you, old sport.”, the two shared a laugh.

Mr. Gatsby sent a 1921 Rolls Royce to Yaa’s front door. Mr. Collins drove the two friends to the party’s location--an art gallery? Mr. Collins wished the girls a good night and happy new year as he pulled off. “ AN ART GALLERY?!”, the two squeaked in unison.

The art gallery was like any modern art gallery: polished light hardwood floors, white walls, semi-dimmed lighting and enough colored canvases to stir up many a conversation. There was a lively gathering taking place in the gallery, making the journey towards the back of the gallery less suspicious. Yaa and Tanisha made a beeline to the back stairwell. Gatsby warned Yaa that there’d be a bodyguard armed with a riddle-like question that only she would know the answer to before they could go down descending flight of stairs, the pair was stopped by a bodyguard in a tailored suit.

“Wait a minute, ladies. You can’t go down there.”, the bodyguard bluntly stated. Before Tanisha could tell the bodyguard about himself, Yaa covered her mouth. “Gatsby knows who we are.”, Yaa assured. The bodyguard shook his head. “Suuure...tell me, Doc, how you want that pit beef sandwich?” How dare he challenge my trivia. “Medium rare, extra horseradish, dummy.” The guard nodded and let them pass.

After knocking on the dark door four times, it opened to a dimmer foyer. The coat check attendant, a bubbly young woman, turned to them. “Whatcha need, sweetheart?”, she asked taking a sip from her martini glass.

“Can you show me how to get to the Pit?”, Yaa asked. The attendant nodded her head towards the other coats, “Right this way”. The two friends walked behind the counter, where the attendant pointed into the coats.

“Happy new year, ladies”, the attended said as she pulled some of the fur coats away from each other, revealing a door and opening it.

The other side of the door was the rabbit hole to a fucking circus. Beautiful Black bodies donned their Cotton Club’s best. The biggest names in entertainment, sports, and music made this chocolate El Dorado their haven. The blue and purple backlights provided just enough light to highlight the various shades of melanin against their outfit. The guests on the dancefloor in an almost ritualistic unison to the musical drug the DJs hooked them onto. The two attendants escorted Yaa and Tanisha past the many 8-person tables full of people hypothesizing on who they thought Gatsby was.

Further down to the right was the bar. The purple backlit shelves displayed the finest and rarest spirits anyone could legally obtain. Scattered around the club were about 15 cigarette girls and hostesses distributing drinks and hors d'oeuvres. The pair had finally arrived to their VIP section: a semi-circle couch with a hookah on the small table, all cloaked underneath a sheer white canopy.

Everyone in attendance left their inhibitions and year-long worries at coat check. With the year Yaa had had, she deserved first dibs for dancefloor access. A wild break-up, major career moves,two emotional breakdowns and surviving her first year of practicing law summarized Yaa’s 2014. There was no way in hell she would go into 2015 and her 25th year of life stressed. Her longing to go on the dancefloor was finally satisfied when the DJ began playing The 2 Live Crew’s “Hoochie Mama”. The two friends gave each other the all-knowing, pre-ratchetry look before running out and strolling to one of their shared ratchet hymns. Yaa strolled her worries off; her smile widened the happier she got.

At the song’s end, the two laughed their way back to their section.

“Tonight has been too surreal and it’s just...10:19.”, Tanisha commented.

“It’s just 10:19?!”, Yaa whipped her phone out to confirm the time. It was now 10:20. But, there was also a message sent from Winston Duke about 45 minutes ago: “I wanna go into this New Year on a clean slate. Let’s talk over lunch. 1:30? Shoot me a suggestion or three.”

Before Yaa could internalize her ex’s text, she felt a physical presence looming over her. She was spooked by a medium-built, average height,brown-skinned brother with a fade. His black eyes were striking, yet welcoming. They reflected blue from the club lights.

“Dr. Abdullah?”, he inquired loud enough to be heard over the blaring music.

“Speaking?”, she answered back.

“Mr. Gatsby would like to see you now.” Yaa’s stomach nosedived into her back and her palms began to sweat.

“O-ok.”, she stood and began walking with the man.

Yaa was escorted through a door that led into a dark hallway. The hallway was dark except for the light that passed through the four frosted glass doors on either side of the hallway. At the very end of the hallway was a solid wood door. Yaa was let in by the man and was left alone in the modest office.

“Please, have a seat.”, a raspy yet familiar voice suggested. He continued his cell phone conversation. The back of the chair was towards Yaa.

“Yeah...right. Uh huh? Tell Cross I’m not taking an-y-thing less than 140. Oh, of cour—right. Well, my guest has finally arrived. Alright, give Erin my love. Yeah, happy new year to you and yours as well. Buh-bye.” He hung up the phone. “Forgive me and my inconsideration for your presence, Dr. Abdullah. People are really tryna conduct business with folks when there’s maybe two hours left in 2014. Damn, shame.”, he said reaching for the chilled bottle of Dom Perignon. Upon hearing his voice, Yaa nearly doubled over from shock; all the clues were coming together. Pit beef sandwiches? The Pit? No wonder everything sounded so familiar. It was Baltimore.

The gentleman finally stood up from out of his chair and sat on the desk, placing the glasses next to him and winking at Yaa. Suave ass negro. “I’m certain you’re surprised to see me.”

Her shoulders bounced as she chuckled to herself. “That, I am, Mr. Gatsby. Ooh, I’m killing Tanisha when I see her.”

The Tag List is the Bee’s Knees!

@muse-of-mbaku @kumkaniudaku @eriknutinthispoosy @whoramilaje @mbakusthrone @mbakuwife @crushed-pink-petals @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @jackburtonsays @randomwordprompts @bartierbakarimobisson @wakandan-flowerz @blackpantherreblogs @babygirlofwakanda @eerythingisshaka @washyourlinens @turn-thy-paige @doublesidedscoobysnacks @wakandas-vibranium @dramaqueenamby @oshasimone @destinio1 @teheeboo @sarahboseman @iamrheaspeaks @chaneajoyyy @lovelynervouschaos @cay-cah @coonflix @katasstrophey @mareethequeen @jozigrrl @great-neckpectations @jellybean531 @yofavcocoa @storibambino @maya-leche @blackgirloneshots @royallyprincesslilly @texasbama @certifiednatural @abeautifulmindexposed

#thefonderseries #winston x yaa #dukeandthedoctor #winston duke imagine

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toomanyfeelings5 · 6 years ago

Text

the definitive ranking of pulp! the classics covers and summaries, from worst to best

(Note: Pride and Prejudice was not included in this list, as there were only poster and greeting card options for the work, and not an actual book or summary. Had a book and summary been provided, it would have ranked lowest for unoriginality. It’s literally just 1995 Colin Firth staring moodily at you. The caption is “Lock Up Your Daughters...Darcy’s in Town!” which is just unfortunate, frankly, and honestly laughable.)

16. Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte

You take a novel that’s positively overflowing with drama and give it THIS cover? THIS summary? Absolutely uninspired.

Here’s looking at you Cathy...

Childhood sweethearts turned star-crossed lovers, fuelled by bitter jealousy and dark revenge. She’s pretty and posh, he’s a moody brooding bastard. Heartbreak, alcoholism and plenty of illegitimate kids – it’s a perfect Northern drama.

Where is the feeling? The screaming violins playing as we read? The moors? The time skips? A hint of the positively bonkers plot that only a Bronte could compose?

15. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

Oh, the heterosexuality of it all. On an Oscar Wilde novel, no less.

Hey girl...I’d sell my soul for you!”

Dorian Gray might be as pretty as a picture, but he's paid a devilishly high price for it. He'll stay drop-dead gorgeous, but there's something nasty festering in the attic...

Pretty as a picture and still lusting after ladies? Please. Pulp! Classics, you can do better.

14. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Again, we must speak the ancient chant: Oh, the heterosexuality of it all.

When it came to loving...He knew which Daisy to pick!

Sorry old sport, but Gatsby has a bigger house than you, prettier friends than you and a Rolls Royce to cart them all round in. To a backdrop of popping champagne corks and orchestral jazz, our hero bids to buyout his old adversary, perennial jock, Tom Buchanan and reclaim Daisy, his favourite bit of High Society totty.

Nick Carraway gets not one mention, which is odd given that he’s the narrator, the protagonist, and Gatsby’s most ardent love interest. Also strange is the cover’s insistence that Jordan Baker, known lesbian, would swoon over Gatsby. Doubly strange is how tiny the women are in comparison to Gatsby’s massive frame. What is, again, bamboozling, is how the slogan on the cover seems to imply that Gatsby knows how to pick a woman. He doesn’t know how to choose anyone, let alone love them. All Gatsby truly knows is the desperate pursuit of a fruitless dream.

13. Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare

Romeo looks like he could be Juliet’s father. Juliet looks like an Upper East Side Widow, not at all like the tween girl she really is.

Too wild to live...too young to die!

Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou…. Oh wait, he’s hanging around in the garden again. Will young Romeo and his Juliet ever be able to express their raging hormones? Or will their feuding families make this romance blossom into a poisoned flower? Either way, both their houses are totally plagued!

“Wherefore” means “why,” not “where,” though I do have to award points to the summary for placing the blame squarely on the feud and not on these doomed young lovers. Though again, young isn’t the operative word I’d use to describe this version of Romeo and Juliet.

12. Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe

This is what one would expect upon seeing a pulp cover of a classic novel. Not much originality or flair is present, but at least some sense of the story is conveyed.

Solitude was driving him nuts!

Cannibals! Captives! Coconuts!

One man’s love of the sea leaves him stranded on a desert island with nothing but a few goats, a bible and a parrot for company.

Will he ever escape? Will his new pal Friday learn to efficiently press a goatskin jerkin? Or will solitude send him totally barmy?

WILL Friday learn to efficiently press a goatskin jerkin? One must read to find out, I suppose...

11. Tess of the D'urbervilles

Marilyn Monroe?????

She’s...no angel.

The original Wessex girl!

Tess is just a humble milkmaid when the local landowner has his wicked way. Her new beau, the smarmy Angel Clare, is none too pleased when he finds out she’s already been deflowered. What is a girl to do? Bloody revenge of course, and an ending to touch the hardest of hearts.

At least the summary blames the terrible men in Tess’s life rather than Tess herself, unlike the tagline on the cover. And while Marilyn Monroe seductively lounging about with a drink doesn’t recall the faintest essence of Hardy’s novel, one would like to imagine Tess relaxing in whatever clothes she pleased, a straw dangling out of her drink, a smile on her face as she answers to no one and spends her quiet evening in solitude.

10. Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K. Jerome

An innocuous cover; the men’s faces hint at the comedic nature of this novel, and yet...something nags the brain upon looking at this.

To say nothing of the dog...

Incompetence, embarrassment and general disaster - no it’s not PMQs, it’s a trip down the Thames! Three hapless fellows and a world weary dog decide they need a holiday from their exhausting hypochondria. Hilarious mayhem ensues.

To say nothing of the dog indeed: Why does the dog on the cover have a human face?

9. The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka

All one can say upon viewing this cover is: Jeff Goldblum, is that you?

Change really BUGGED him!

Poor old Gregor. One day he's depressed about his dreary travelling salesman gig, the next, he's roaching around the apartment and disgusting his family. All that's left is creeping the walls and eating garbage. How's his sis ever going to find a sugar daddy with her grotty bro in tow?

Gregor isn’t grotty, he’s our six-legged hero in this tragic tale.

And yet in the end, the question that haunts us all echoes in our minds in an unceasing echo: is that Jeff Goldblum?

8. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

Alice as a hippie is eye-catching, but not particularly creative.

This cupcake was off her head!

What HAS happened to little Alice? Taking 'shrooms, hanging out with hookah smoking ne'er-do-wells and being dragged to court. That's gonna be one hell of a hangover!

As much as I’m intrigued by Alice wearing heart-shaped sunglasses and a peace sign necklace, the summary and the cover consist of one joke and one joke only.

7. The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

I just like how Dr. Jekyll in this cover looks equally as fucked up as Mr. Hyde.

No more Mr. Nice Guy... There’s a sinister man about London town with something of the night about him. Mr Hyde is mad, bad and has a penchant for bumping off MPs and other kindly innocents. Will his friend Dr Jekyll be able to stop him? Or is there something more to their relationship than meets the eye…? Only the intrepid Utterson can get to the bottom of this mystery, but what will he find in Dr Jekyll’s lab?

Points to this summary for including Mr. Utterson, and for insinuating that Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde may be clandestine lovers.

6. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

Ladies, gentlemen, and otherwise, don’t we love it when a greedy rich man gets bludgeoned by a mace into being more generous and kindly towards others?

This cat was a drag....’til a midnight wake-up call...

Christmas?! What a load of Humbug. Mistletoe and Wine just don't do it for Scrooge; he's a workaholic miser with an attitude problem. If he doesn't change his ways, he'll end up with no friends and Tiny Tim won't last the year. Let's hope some spooky night-time visitors can put the jingle back in his bells!

Ring-a-ling-a-ling, Mr. Scrooge. The mace is raised and the bells are ringing.

5. Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad

The tag-line made me, as the youths say, laugh out loud.

Whoops! Apocalypse....

The horror! The horror!

Kurtz might be the apple of every brutish imperialist’s eye, but his God complex is getting wildly out of hand in the depths of the jungle. What on earth will Marlow find when he finally gets downriver? Devil worship? Savages? Heads on sticks? Or just another nutty white man with his knickers in a twist?

Surprisingly anti-racist summary made this jump to the higher echelons of this esteemed list, though of course that doesn’t excuse this novel’s abhorrent and embarrassing fake-deep racism. It also must be noted that the tag-line should have been “Whoops! White supremacy!” and the text of the novel should have entirely consisted of Chinua Achebe’s essay on the work.

4. The Hounds of Baskerville by Arthur Conan Doyle

The cover alone is a winner. A rabid chihuahua out for blood? Inspired.

Murder...Mystery...Walkies!

A desolate moor, a diabolical dog in need of a muzzle and some inbred locals; Sherlock Holmes is really up against it. With the help of his trusty sidekick Dr. Watson, Holmes pieces together a mystery that has captured the imagination of readers across the decades. All whilst practising a serious coffee and cocaine habit.

The tag-line is fun and catchy, but sadly this summary must be admonished for insisting that Dr. Watson is merely a “trusty sidekick” to Sherlock Holmes. Heterosexuality strikes again, reducing the impact of the striking cover design.

3. Dubliners by James Joyce

Finally! Some style, some panache, some flair to accompany these short stories about being sad and horny in Ireland.

Stuck in the Liffey with you...

Booze, Sex and Hot Floury Potatoes… Those Dubliners are at it again!

Liars, thieves, whores and priests… James Joyce sure knew how to throw a party! This relentlessly downbeat collection explores the very worst aspects of human nature, and doesn’t leave out the juicy bits. It might not be in the best possible taste, but who doesn’t want to get down and dirty in Dublin?

The summary and cover work in tandem to wholeheartedly convince me that Dubliners is an action-packed, slick collection of stories detailing the wild escapades of a motley cast of ragamuffins, and I gotta hand it to the folks over at Pulp! Classics for injecting some bonafide vintage cool into Joyce’s work.

2. Othello by William Shakespeare

I have so many thoughts on this. Mr. T. as Othello is fascinating, as is the tagline, “Some kind of Bard...aaaaasss.” Is this a commentary on blaxploitation media? One can’t help but recall Mr. T.’s reasoning behind his mohawk, his gold chains, to honor his ancestors and assert his living, unshakable humanity in a racist society. Is this is a genuine effort on the part of Pulp! Classics to imply that a blaxploitation-influenced adaptation of Othello could reveal deeper truths to the play that we have had yet to glimpse?

Some kind of Bard... aaaasss

He’s a bardass brother with the love of a fine woman. That is until some cloven hoofed honky starts talking crazy about variously hued sheep tupping the hell outta each other! You gotta pity the fool who gets shafted by the green eyed monster. Let’s hope Othello can work out who to trust before it’s too late…

The fast-paced alliterative language of the summary harkens to Shakespeare’s own wit-fueled dialogue and penchant for creative language. The summary also calls Iago a devil, which is apt, and implicitly criticizes his racism, hinting at the play’s greater tragedies to come. The cover and summary also work in tandem to emphasize Othello’s jealousy and destruction: the “green-eyed monster” is mentioned, and the cover itself is a putrid green. An excellent example of what a vintage cover and summary can achieve.

1. Frankenstein by Mary Shelly

You all knew this was coming.

This kid was born on the wrong side of the lab...

Frankenstein’s monster is on the rampage; terrorising the locals, unleashing murderous hell… and reading novels in his spare time. Can his petrified creator stop this reign of horror before his girlfriend gets the chop?

A James Dean-inspired creature, thereby making them a queer icon? Masterful. The creature being “born on the wrong side of the lab?” A stroke of genius; that they’re called a kid puts the poignancy of the monster’s plight into even greater relief, while simultaneously emphasizing their tragic charm. The clear distinction between Frankenstein and the creature? Reader, I exhaled in a cathartic release of tension. The loving detail that the creature reads novels in their spare time, like any other leather-jacket wearing, motorcycle-riding ruffian with a heart of gold? Beautiful.

Truly, the obvious queer energy of this cover and summary highlights an overlooked dimension of Shelly’s great work while also paying homage to what draws us to this Modern Prometheus time after time. Do we care about the petrified creator in this summary? Not at all. He’s not on the cover, appearing both rebellious and gentle. We are here for the creature, in their leather jacket, on their motorcycle, novel sticking out of a back pocket on their jeans, ready to whisk us away to a place where even monsters like us can find solace, and be at peace, and commune with each other. We need only take their outstretched hand, and be willing to leave the mundane world for something better, for the chance to no longer be alone.

#books #art #classic works #i'm going to purchase a copy of that frankenstein cover and no one will stop me

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bond-villains-are-winning · 6 years ago

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“At modern fighter is not a Honda Accord. You don’t just hop in it and drive it around for months until you finally have to take it for a one-hour oil change when the light comes on. If anything, they are far more akin to high-end sports cars that require a lot of expensive TLC to keep operating. The F-22, in particular, is more analogous to an exotic supercar or even a high-end race car than anything else. It requires dozens of hours of maintenance for every single flight hour and deep maintenance can take days or even many weeks to accomplish, depending on what is needed to be done and availability of spare parts, which can be scarce.”

—- Tyler Rogoway at The Drive quoted in Vox

So a number of these $377 million each F-22s apparently had to be left on the ground in the Florida panhandle for the hurricane to destroy because they couldn’t take off with only a week’s notice.

Presumably, a cunning adversary could successfully defeat us with low-tech bi-planes or zeppelins and nail our aircraft in the ground?

Let’s examine •why• the US military (contractor) budget is so large that we exceed the next seven largest world powers’ combined military budgets.

To deliver such temperamental aircraft as the F-22 for their •occasional• flights we have state of the art nuclear aircraft carriers - 11 of them. Trump enemy China has a whopping 1 conventional (diesel) aircraft carrier. Trump friend/USA traditional enemy Russia has whopping 1 conventional aircraft carrier. NATO ally Britain has just built a conventional (Rolls Royce engines!) aircraft carrier increasing their fleet to a total of, wait for it, a whopping 1 aircraft carriers.

Gee, you’d think that these traditional naval powers would invest in nuclear? Alas, the Carriers nuclear or conventional need a •lot• of protection and support from from ships with conventional engines. Conventional engine fuel which has to be replenished at ports or from slow moving tankers. And carriers don’t dare outrun their support. Why?...

During the Falklands War in the 1980s between the British Navy and (mere) Argentina, the Brits had to place their aircraft carriers way out of the battle zone because •1 if the sea is rough or weather adverse they can’t launch jets. So the carriers would be sitting ducks for ship-killer missiles like the Exocet fired from enemy jets. •2 in fair weather carriers are sitting ducks for ship killer missiles like the Exocet fired from the shore, other ships, enemy jets.

Our nuclear carriers are sitting ducks for ship killer missiles. Period. Ignore what nuclear missiles could accomplish. Or if North Korea scuttles one or moreof its diesel subs with a nuclear bomb in the path of a Carrier.

So why does the US spend more for nuclear carriers that don’t dare outrun their support? Might as well also ask why we have so many •expensive• carriers plus all the support craft? It’s a military (contractor) secret. Best to ask the military contractors and their paid Congressional Stooges.

Have I mentioned the stealth ships that we can’t arm? The jets that don’t fly at all? The fleet of, wait for it, •nuclear• submarines ready to fight the Cold War with the (extinct) USSR and its Warsaw Pact Allies (also extinct and those allies have all signed up with NATO).

We have 15,000 troops deployed against alleged Islamic terrorists. We have 75-80,000 sailors on the carriers. Plus 4-5,000 submariners. Plus the massive logistical personnel support for these fleets. Not too mention the maintenance for the tempermental jets.

When did we last use any of these Christmas toys? Who would we need them to fight? They are all vulnerable to missles.

Just like military helicopters are vulnerable to Stinger type missles. Any guess which nation had 80% of the world’s supply of vulnerable military helicopters?

We aren’t spending trillions and trillions on fighting Iraqi oilworkers and Afghani opium farmers. We are spending trillions and trillions paying a handful of Military Contractors to build obsolete and vulnerable armaments. The cheapest of which cost hundreds of millions and will fly, maybe.

Meanwhile, we mouth platitudes about “supporting the troops” who are killed and maimed by IEDs because they walk into battle or ride in vulnerable vehicles. And where do the impoverished enemy fighters get their high explosives for the IEDs? Why from unexploded US bombs that we dropped on the enemy. Who made the bombs? US military contractors. Who paid for the bombs? You did. You paid for armaments for both sides •plus• the obsolete Cold War armaments.

So ask not where the money would come from to do everything the Justice Democrats would like to do and a lot more. Rather ask how much more must we raise the national Debt to pay for this crap? The GOP never cuts the Federal budget, they just raise the National Debt. Why, because most of the Federal budget is military and Social Security. Everything else is chump change.

Because the combined military budget and National Security is the single largest segment of the total US budget. 90% of people who get Federal paychecks are in the military or Security. Cutting SNAP and/or Foreign Aid won’t make a noticeable drop in the deficit. Provides both Parties talking points is all.

And now the GOP wants to go after “Entitlements” - rest of Social Security and Medicare they haven’t cut. Incidentally, the only part of the Federal government that is fully funded through payroll taxes.

Now, this is simple and you don’t need to do any math. If they cut Social Security and Medicare which is fully funded through payroll taxes to BALANCE the budget - they have to use the TAX MONEY you are paying already into Social Security. Your taxes WON’T GO DOWN. You won’t have Social Security. You won’t have Medicare. The GOP will steal your money and give it to the military contractors who will give the GOP some back as “campaign donations”. The budget will be balanced. Understand?

Not voting this November enables the theft. Voting for the GOP enables the theft. Only voting Democratic can prevent the theft.

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brookstonalmanac · 4 years ago

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Events 12.19

1154 – Henry II of England is crowned at Westminster Abbey. 1187 – Pope Clement III is elected. 1490 – Anne, Duchess of Brittany, is married to Maximilian I, Holy Roman Emperor by proxy. 1562 – The Battle of Dreux takes place during the French Wars of Religion. 1606 – The ships Susan Constant, Godspeed, and Discovery depart England carrying settlers who founded, at Jamestown, Virginia, the first of the thirteen colonies that became the United States. 1675 – The Great Swamp Fight, a pivotal battle in King Philip's War, gives the English settlers a bitterly won victory. 1776 – Thomas Paine publishes one of a series of pamphlets in The Pennsylvania Journal entitled "The American Crisis". 1777 – American Revolutionary War: George Washington's Continental Army goes into winter quarters at Valley Forge, Pennsylvania. 1796 – French Revolutionary Wars: Two British frigates under Commodore Horatio Nelson and two Spanish frigates under Commodore Don Jacobo Stuart engage in battle off the coast of Murcia. 1828 – Nullification crisis: Vice President of the United States John C. Calhoun pens the South Carolina Exposition and Protest, protesting the Tariff of 1828. 1900 – Hopetoun Blunder: The first Governor-General of Australia John Hope, 7th Earl of Hopetoun, appoints Sir William Lyne premier of the new state of New South Wales, but he is unable to persuade other colonial politicians to join his government and is forced to resign. 1907 – Two hundred thirty-nine coal miners die in the Darr Mine Disaster in Jacobs Creek, Pennsylvania. 1912 – William Van Schaick, captain of the steamship General Slocum which caught fire and killed over one thousand people, is pardoned by U.S. President William Howard Taft after 3 1⁄2 years in Sing Sing prison. 1920 – King Constantine I is restored as King of the Hellenes after the death of his son Alexander of Greece and a plebiscite. 1924 – The last Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost is sold in London, England. 1924 – German serial killer Fritz Haarmann is sentenced to death for a series of murders. 1927 – Three Indian revolutionaries, Ram Prasad Bismil, Roshan Singh and Ashfaqulla Khan, are executed by the British Raj for participation in the Kakori conspiracy. 1929 – The Indian National Congress promulgates the Purna Swaraj (the Declaration of the Independence of India). 1932 – BBC World Service begins broadcasting as the BBC Empire Service. 1941 – World War II: Adolf Hitler appoints himself as head of the Oberkommando des Heeres. 1941 – World War II: Limpet mines placed by Italian divers heavily damage HMS Valiant and HMS Queen Elizabeth in Alexandria harbour. 1945 – John Amery, British Fascist, is executed at the age of 33 by the British Government for treason. 1946 – Start of the First Indochina War. 1956 – Irish-born physician John Bodkin Adams is arrested in connection with the suspicious deaths of more than 160 patients. Eventually he is convicted only of minor charges. 1961 – India annexes Daman and Diu, part of Portuguese India. 1967 – Harold Holt, the Prime Minister of Australia, is officially presumed dead. 1972 – Apollo program: The last manned lunar flight, Apollo 17, crewed by Eugene Cernan, Ronald Evans, and Harrison Schmitt, returns to Earth. 1974 – Nelson Rockefeller is sworn in as Vice President of the United States under President Gerald Ford under the provisions of the 25th Amendment to the United States Constitution. 1981 – Sixteen lives are lost when the Penlee lifeboat goes to the aid of the stricken coaster Union Star in heavy seas. 1983 – The original FIFA World Cup trophy, the Jules Rimet Trophy, is stolen from the headquarters of the Brazilian Football Confederation in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. 1984 – The Sino-British Joint Declaration, stating that China would resume the exercise of sovereignty over Hong Kong and the United Kingdom would restore Hong Kong to China with effect from July 1, 1997 is signed in Beijing, China by Deng Xiaoping and Margaret Thatcher. 1986 – Mikhail Gorbachev, leader of the Soviet Union, releases Andrei Sakharov and his wife from exile in Gorky. 1995 – The United States Government restores federal recognition to the Nottawaseppi Huron Band of Potawatomi Native American tribe. 1997 – SilkAir Flight 185 crashes into the Musi River, near Palembang in Indonesia, killing 104. 1998 – President Bill Clinton is impeached by the United States House of Representatives, becoming the second President of the United States to be impeached. 2000 – The Leninist Guerrilla Units wing of the Communist Labour Party of Turkey/Leninist attack a Nationalist Movement Party office in Istanbul, Turkey, killing one person and injuring three. 2001 – A record high barometric pressure of 1085.6 hPa (32.06 inHg) is recorded at Tosontsengel, Khövsgöl, Mongolia. 2001 – Argentine economic crisis: December riots: Riots erupt in Buenos Aires, Argentina. 2012 – Park Geun-hye is elected the first female president of South Korea. 2013 – Spacecraft Gaia is launched by European Space Agency. 2016 – Russian ambassador to Turkey Andrei Karlov is assassinated while at an art exhibition in Ankara. The assassin, Mevlüt Mert Altıntaş, is shot and killed by a Turkish guard. 2016 – A vehicular attack in Berlin, Germany, kills and injures multiple people at a Christmas market.

#Events

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paralleljulieverse · 7 years ago

Photo

Periodically, the Parallel Julieverse likes to profile some of the many talented photographers who have worked with Julie over the years. One of the more fascinating, and possibly lesser known, was L. Arnold Weissberger (1907-1981).

An entertainment lawyer who first rose to prominence as legal representative for Orson Welles -- he drafted the actor’s much-ballyhooed 1940 contract with RKO (Chapman, G-3) -- Weissberger was for many years the resident go-to attorney for the theatrical haut monde. “[O]ne definition of high and mighty,” claimed a newspaper report, “is to be a client of his” (Hunter, D3). Indeed, with a client list featuring everyone from Sir Laurence Olivier, Cecil Beaton and Lillian Gish to Garson Kanin, Billy Rose, Helen Hayes and Igor Stravinsky, Weissberger could have given MGM a run in the “more stars than there are in the heavens” stakes.

A gentleman of the old school who always wore a suit jacket and trademark white carnation, Weissberger was as admired for his charm, grace and unerring discretion, as his legal nous. Quipped Orson Welles:

“Like the Rolls Royce, this lawyer is valued not only for the pleasing elegance of his appearance, but for performance, which can be formidable. A terror and a scourge to producers, he is a wonder to observe. Yet the loudest thing on Arnold is his Patek Philippe watch.” (Weissberger 1973, 337)

Weissberger was also life partner to Milton Goldman, a successful theatre agent in his own right and vice-president of International Creative Management. Together the two men -- equal bons vivants and talented socialites -- formed a show biz power couple that presided over the trans-Atlantic theatre scene for decades. Their weekly Sunday cocktail parties were legendary and their swanky Sutton Place apartment “became the party place for theatre personalities from three continents” (Lawrence and Lee, 227). Each summer, the couple would relocate to Europe, spending a month in the River Suite at the London Savoy where they would host a whirlwind of social affairs with "every famous name you have ever wanted to meet” (Harris, 47).

It was in this context that Weissberger developed what he fondly called his “double life” as a celebrity photographer (Wise, B-1). A self-avowed “shutterbug” since youth, Weissberger never went anywhere without his trusty twin Leicas, “loaded at all times, one with outdoor, the other with indoor colour film” (Glover, 10-A). Though unabashedly amateur -- he was entirely disinterested in the the technical dimensions of photography, “never uses flash, hates to be bothered with filters and won’t have a light meter around” (ibid.) -- Weissberger honed his talents through a good eye and sheer voluminous slog. By the mid-70s, he estimated having shot 50,000 pictures of people and another 60,000 on travels (Anderson, 25).

It didn’t hurt, of course, that Weissberger had ready access to some of the most famous people in the world. How many photographers, marvelled one newspaper report, “run into Orson Welles, Marlene Dietrich, Noel Coward, Lord Snowden...Alice B. Toklas, Marianne Moore, W.H. Auden, Peter O’Toole, the Redgraves, Beatrice Lillie and Judy Holliday in their daily rounds?” (Wise, B-1). The fact that he knew these celebrities personally and was, for the most part, photographing them in the context of private social events afforded a genuine intimacy and unguarded spontaneity unmatched in most other celebrity photography of the era.

“His subjects are his clients and his clients are his friends,” noted Orson Welles, “We all smile in front of his camera because Arnold is behind it” (Weissberger, 1973, 337-338). In a similar refrain, Douglas Fairbanks Jr remarked that Weissberger “is a gregarious host with a catholic taste in friends” all of whom “have long since learned to repose their collective confidence in [his] gentler disposition and infinite discretion” (ibid, 183).

For the most part, Weissberger took his photos for the simple fun of it and as personal mementoes. He was known among intimates for compiling the shots as “gifts for friends, to be presented in elegant gold-tooled, white-bound albums on Christmas or birthdays” (Weissberger, 1973, 282). As Weissberger’s archive of celebrity photography grew, however, so did its fame and in the late-1960s he was invited to hold several exhibitions of his work, including a major showing at the Museum of the City of New York (Weissberger, 1967).

The highpoint of public recognition was undoubtedly the 1973 publication of Famous Faces, a lavish 450-page coffee table book from prestigious art publisher, Harry Abrams, that featured almost 1500 of Weissberger’s portraits taken over a 25 year span from 1946-1971. The literal heft of the tome was such that, when Weissberger gifted a copy to longtime friend, Hermione Gingold, she quipped, “Thanks but this isn’t for my coffee table. From now on, this is my coffee table!” (Lyons, 13).

Famous Faces is an astonishing catalogue of mid-century Anglo-American celebrity culture and a dynamic visual immersion in a long vanished world. “[A]s succinct as Boswell’s Diaries and [with] an even larger cast of characters,” notes Anita Loos in one of several appreciative celebrity “comments” peppered through the tome, “This is more than history; it is poetry and it is art” (Weissberger, 1973, 283-84).

Certainly, these charmingly candid shots of our Julie, which are drawn from Weissberger’s gallery of greats, possess a decided poetic allure. Disarmingly simple, they arrest with their potent combination of playful ordinariness and historical import. The shot of Julie glimpsed in the background between Flora Robson and Judith Anderson is especially entrancing. Taken in 1960 when Julie had not long wrapped her long star-making turn in My Fair Lady and was about to embark on Camelot, it captures a spontaneous moment of apparent banality -- “three women at a party” -- and, through serendipitous framing, lighting and, even, costume (the contrast of matronly black and virginal white), imbues the scene with a symbolic cast that borders on the epic. A triangulated drama of looks as the once and future queen of musical theatre apprehends her own - as yet only glimpsed -- grande dame destiny.

Weissberger had ambitions to develop a second volume of photographs and was also working on an autobiographical memoir to be titled “Double Exposure” when he died suddenly of an embolism in 1981 at age 74. His partner, Milton Goldman organised a special memorial at the Royale Theatre on W. 45th -- where incidentally Julie made her bow in The Boy Friend -- which, by all accounts, played to an adoringly packed-house. “The outpouring of affection was so enormous,” reported famed Broadway correspondent, Earl Wilson (1981), “that VIPs sat in the balcony or stood” (15B) as from the stage a series of heartfelt reminiscences were delivered by, among others, Orson Welles, Ruth Gordon, Garson Kanin, Martha Graham, Louise Rainer, Douglas Fairbanks Jr, Meryl Streep, Beverly Sills, and Lillian Gish.

It was a fittingly star-studded close to an extraordinary life for this man who remained enthralled by celebrity culture both professionally as entertainment lawyer and artistically as “the Proust of American photographers” and “the chronicler of the headliners” (Wise, B-1).

Sources

Anderson, George.”A Man of 1,500 Faces, None of Them His.” The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. 15 March 1974: 25.

Chapman, John. “Orson Welles, the Movies’ New Mr. Moneybags.” The Chicago Tribune, 13 October 1940: G-3.

Glover, William. “Fastest Shooting Lawyer Shoots Uses Camera in Hobby.” The Daily Times News. 6 March 1968: 10-A.

Harris, Radie. Radie’s World. New York: Putnam and Sons, 1975.

Hunter, Stephen. “Christmas is A-Coming and the Books are Getting Fat.” The Baltimore Sun. 6 December 1973: D3.

Lawrence, Jerome and Lee, Rober E. “Inward Bound.” William Inge: Essays and Reminiscences on the Plays and the Man. Eds. Jackson R. Bryer and Mary C. Hartig. Jefferson, NC: McFarland and Co, 2014.

Lyons, Leonard. “Lyons Den.” The Times. 7 January 1974: 13.

Weissberger, L. Arnold. Close-Up: A Collection of Photographs. New York: Arno Press, 1967.

____________. Famous Faces: A Photograph Album of Personal Reminiscences. New York: Harry N. Abrams, 1973.

Wilson, Earl. “They Faced the Critics...” Fort Lauderdale News. 12 March 1981: 15B.

Wise, Gabrielle. “'Faces’ Author Likes Unusual Mixes of His People.” The Baltimore Sun. 15 March 1974: B-1.

#julie andrews #photography #celebrity #arnold weissberger #milton goldman #Broadway #tony walton #richard burton #jason robards #flora robson #judith anderson

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shy-fairy-levele3 · 7 years ago

Text

Our House

Strange Magic Week- Day 7: When We Are Old

Inspired by this playlist

AO3

Bog’s liver spotted hand shook slightly and he tightened the grip on the handle of his cane. Getting old sucked. Today though Bog liked to believe the minor tremor was a result of his being nervous and not simply old age. Sweet heavens, 85 years old and she could still make him nervous. Bog shook his head at the thought. Today was their 60th wedding anniversary.

Bog shuffled around their Livingroom, stopping every so often to inspect one of the many pictures placed around the room. Some hung on the walls, a neat row lined the top of the fireplace mantle, and still more sat guard on end tables. The pictures were not just a record of their time together but also an art piece on the change in technology. From the black and white polaroid’s of their wedding to the crisp digital photos of their grandchildren’s birthdays.

Bog looked at one photo, it had been taken the day they moved into this house. They stood on the front stoop, he and Marianne each held a cat in their arms, Bog held the white one, Imp they had called him, and Marianne held the grey tabby, Lizard. For five long years the cats had filled the otherwise emptiness of the house. Bog turned away from that picture, to look at another one, the day they brought home the twins.

Waiting for that call had been one of the hardest things Bog and Marianne had to endure. At last the adoption centre called, a new baby needed a home. They had been willing to take any child in need of a good home, never dreamed that when they got there they would have a choice.

“Would you like a boy or a girl?” the kind lady had asked.

When she further explained that the children were twins, Bog and Marianne hadn’t even discussed it.

“We’ll take them both.”

That was how Ian and Innis became part of the King family.

There were many summer time pictures taken out in a field by the lake, a place he and Marianne had frequented both before and after they were married. The orange and brown plaid blanket they had shared was prominent in so many of the photos. Halloween pictures and Christmas pictures blurred together, Bog didn’t know where the time had gone.

The next picture his eyes landed on was a good example of that. It was from their 50th Wedding Anniversary party. It was a good photo of Bog, Sunny, Pare, and Gus all dressed in matching red and cream striped jackets. They had done a barbershop quartet routine to Billy Joel’s The Longest Time. It had been the highlight of the evening. Afterword’s Marianne had told him how handsome she thought he looked, “just like Dick Van Dyke in Marry Poppins” she had said. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Bog had asked in return, rather cheeky. It turned out to be a good thing. Had that really been ten years ago?

There was a tell-tale creak from the upstairs hallway and Bog made his way to the foot of the stairs. He didn’t know how after all these years the sight of Marianne could still take his breath away, and increase his heartrate- something that could be fatal at his age. Oh well, as his Da had always said, “it’s better to die, doing what you love.”

Marianne was dressed in a lilac poodle skirt-complete with poodle, white stockings, and a white t-shirt, over which she wore a wool cardigan that matched her skirt. Dawn, who had been a seamstress her whole life, and was still quick with a sewing machine at age 75 had made her sister’s skirt for the occasion. Marianne did not look her 79 years, though her once rich brown hair had faded to a lovely dark grey. She had dyed the tips purple for the anniversary and her upcoming 80th birthday.

Bog himself still had a full head of hair, but the vibrant black had turned to what Marianne described as “a rather fetching shade of silver.” Bog had styled it as though he was still in his early twenties, and living in the fifties. He had on a pair of black jeans, a white t-shirt, and had even shrugged on his old leather jacket, which now hung off his bent frame. The look would not be complete without his large, round and thick-rimmed glasses, and of course his polished wooden cane. A greaser with glasses, who would have thought?

Too preoccupied checking one another out, neither heard the car pull in the driveway so both of them jumped when the loud knock came at the front door.

“Shall we?” Bog asked, extending his arm to his wife.

The whole thing was pretense, she knew he needed the support more that she did, but still Marianne played along, slipping her arm though his. The way he was just looking at her, had made her feel young again. One glance from him and Marianne was once more a blushing bride of nineteen.

On the front porch, which had been upgraded from the small concrete step it had once been to a fully functional wood deck, complete with fancy pillars and a three seater swing, stood their youngest grandson, Kieran, dressed head to foot in white 1930’s limo driver livery. His long white-blonde ponytail hung out the back of the cap.

“Oh Bog, you didn’t!” Marianne gasped at the sight of the car in the driveway.

“Aye, Ah did” Bog grinned at her like the fool he was and she took the opportunity to playfully slap his arm, which was followed by a quick peck on the cheek.

In the drive sat a white 1936 Rolls-Royce Phantom III, the exact same car Marianne’s father had rented for them for a week as his wedding present to them. Marianne remembered thinking it must have cost a fortune back then, the car had already been 20-21 years old at the time, she couldn’t even fathom the figure it would cost today.

“Bog you shouldn’t have” she chastised, but still the thought that had gone into it, Marianne couldn’t begrudge him that.

“The kids chipped in a bit” he confessed, unable to stop smiling at the absolute pleasure reflected in Marianne’s face.

“Nan, Gramps, your chariot awaits” Kieran declared, waving his hand out towards the car, he even had on white drivers gloves.

He hurried over to open the doors for each of his grandparents, and waited until each of them was settled before closing their doors.

Kieran hopped in the driver’s seat and started the car.

“Hello, my name is Kieran and I will be your driver this evening” Kieran declared.

Kieran was not far past sixteen and had successfully passed his driving test the first time round’, something which neither of his two older siblings had achieved.

Ian had blessed them with three grandchildren, only the first of which Marianne’s father had lived to meet. Innis and her wife Katie were awaiting confirmation on their adoption process, although Katie brought two step-grandchildren with her, from her first marriage. Marianne hopped they had been lying about the delay and that they would bring the new baby with them today as a surprise.

Marianne couldn’t believe how much their family tree had grown. Sunny and Dawn had three of their own, and each of them had two or three kids. She and Bog had gone from zero to two in a heartbeat, which still made her ache. When the twins were two Marianne had become pregnant for a short time, she was almost ready to tell Bog the joyful news when she had suddenly lost it.

He had of course been heartbroken when she finally got the courage to tell him two weeks later, but he had also been angry at himself. Bog had made an appointment that day for a vasectomy, not wanting Marianne to go through that pain of loss ever again. They had both cried but the twins were their light that brought them through.

***

The rented hall was full of friends and family that erupted into a loud applause when Kieran ushered his grandparents in the door. Marianne and Bog had waved graciously as if they were royalty. The room was decorated with still more photographs, pictures of old friends, new friends, and friends long since passed.

Marianne and Bog danced a jive to Dan Seal’s Bop, and then a waltz to Valdy’s Renaissance. Then they had to take a break because of Bog’s back and knees and Marianne’s hips. Getting old sucked.

Marianne slipped up only once, calling Kieran by Ian’s name and Ian had pulled his father aside.

“Mom’s getting worse” Ian said to his father, deep concern in his voice.

“She’s fine” Bog assured, but he had his own doubts. His biggest fear was that one morning he’d wake up and she wouldn’t know who he was.

The other day they had been out driving and Marianne had come to a full stop at a green light. He hadn’t been allowed to drive for years.

“We just don’t want you guys going all The Note Book on us. Have you thought any more about selling the house?”

“Pah, The Note Book” Bog said waving his hand in the air as if the title of the movie left behind a bad smell after being spoken.

“If anything” Bog said, raising a finger as if he was giving a lecture, “Your mother and I will go the way of Cocoon.”

“Alien abduction dad, really?” Ian asked raising a skeptic eyebrow.

“The Note Book” Bog said, in counter protest, “do you really think your mother and I watch that romantic crap?”

“Dad, it’s mom’s favourite movie” Ian deadpanned, before turning serious again, “It’s just, I’m worried about you guys, we all are.”

“Don’t worry so much son” Bog said, laying a comforting hand on Ian’s shoulder, “It’s no’ something ye have any control over.”

“Losing you both at the same time would just be really hard” Ian confessed, “and I just know that if mom goes first-” Ian couldn’t finish his own sentence.

“It would kill me too?” Bog finished, it was something that echoed his own thoughts on the matter.

Innis and Katie did surprise everyone by bringing along Ben, a sweet baby boy of eight months old, already sprouting dark curly hair. Sarah and Jenny tagged along sheepishly, knowing that they weren’t unwelcome but still feeling out of place.

Everyone had a grand time and no one was surprised that when they cut the cake Marianne managed to get a swipe of icing on her husband’s large nose.

***

Bog awoke in the middle of the night to find the space beside him in bed empty. It was one of his worse fears come true. Marianne had gotten up and wandered off somewhere. Bog felt around on his nightstand until he found his glasses. As soon as Bog removed the blankets to get out of bed he felt the chilly night air and knew Marianne hadn’t gone far. Bog quickly wrapped himself in his brown fleecy house coat and slipped his feet into some slippers and padded out onto the small balcony.

Marianne sat in one of the white wooden Adirondack chairs, with her coat, hat, boots, and scarf on right over her nightgown, a packed suitcase sat next to her. She just sat there gazing up at the starry night sky.

“Going somewhere love?” Bog asked cautiously.

It was another minute before she seemed to notice he was there.

“Bog?” she asked, turning to look at him, “what are you doing out of bed?”

“I was kind of wondering the same thing about you” he replied.

“Oh, I’m going home” Marianne said with firm resolution.

“You are home love, come back to bed.” Bog’s voice was gentle, not pressuring, and etched with sadness.

“The garden folk say I can’t stay long. But we’ll see each other again.” She turned back towards the sky and Bog saw a tear glisten at the corner of her eye.

Bog sat out with her a while longer but the autumn night chilled him quickly and he soon made his way back to bed.

It wasn’t long before Bog woke again, this time Marianne back in bed beside him. He felt relieved, they still had time.

***

In the morning there were fresh flowers in the vase on the kitchen table, as there had been every morning since they moved into the house. Neither Bog nor Marianne had ever picked or bought the flowers. Bog knew as long as there were flowers in the vase Marianne would still be with him.

She entered the kitchen, a plum housecoat wrapped tight around her humming a song, a song Bog knew well….

“I’ll light the fire, while you place the flowers in the vase…”

#strange magic #strange magic week #butterfly bog #when we are old #our house #i'm sorry if you cry #lofe #love #old people #bog king #marianne

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lilbcy-blog · 8 years ago

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Lars Croft (OC Muse) Info (UNDER CUT)

VERSE: Main FANDOM: Tomb Raider DATE: 4/10/2017

FULL NAME: Lars Alexander Croft NICKNAME/ALIAS: L.A.

ORIGIN: His mother’s family is an entrepreneuristic line of archaeologists, most famous of all, his mother. PET NAME: Kiddie, squirt, Purple-bud, Mini-Lara, Little Croft SIGNATURE: (What is their handwriting like?) GENDER: Male GENDER ROLE: Masculine gender role. ORIENTATION: Heterosexual Heteromantic (Single-Interest, Straight) REAL AGE: 26 (Main) AGE APPEARANCE: 7 years younger. BIRTHDAY: Friday, February 14th, 1989, 9:49 A.M. (Main), 2013 (Survivor) BIRTHPLACE: Addenbrooke's Hospital, Hills Rd, Cambridge CB2 0QQ, England, UK ASTROLOGICAL SIGN (Western):Aquarius ZODIAC SIGN (Eastern): Tiger IMMEDIATE FAMILY:

Richard Croft (Grandfather) †

Amelia Croft (Grandmother) †

Atlas DeMornay (Grand-Uncle)

Benjamin Croft (Great-Grandfather) †

Rose Croft (Great-Great-Grandmother) †

Almina Marie Croft (Ancestor) †

Thomas Edward Croft (Ancestor) †

Scarlett Croft (Ancestor) †

PARENTING: Lara Croft (Mother), Unknown Father. UPBRINGING: Strict yet adventurous.

(on a scale of 1 - 10, how good was):

INFANCY: ([0-2]) 9.5 CHILDHOOD: ([3-12]) 10 ADOLESCENCE: ([13-17] Teen years) 10 ADULTHOOD: ([18+]) 9.6

SPECIES: Human ETHNICITY: English-American BLOOD TYPE: (Self explanatory) A+ PREFERRED HAND: Ambidextrous FACIAL TYPE: Oval EYE COLOR: Greenish-brown HAIR COLOR: Dark brown HAIRSTYLE: Pushed-Back SKIN TONE: Peach BODY TYPE: Mesomorph BUILD: Strongish face, toned arms, more durabily, more flexibility. HEIGHT: 5′11 WEIGHT: 143 lbs FACIAL HAIR: Shaven SHOE SIZE: 14 BIRTHMARKS/SCARS: Scar, across his face DISTINGUISHING FEATURES: None to tell ... except, maybe something on his hand. HEALTH: 7/10 ENERGY: 8.5/10 MEMORY: 10/10 SENSES: 8/10 ALLERGIES: Cinnamon HANDICAPS: Lumbar spinal stenosis MEDICATION: Numerous nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs (NSAIDs) PHOBIAS: Macro-Ophidiophobia (fear of large snakes: boas, anacondas, other constrictors), Thanatophobia. ADDICTIONS: LSD MENTAL DISORDERS: Death-induced depression & anxiety STYLE: American roc (sometimes Metal) MODE OF DRESS: Professional adventurer GROOMING: Semi (between messy and well-kept) POSTURE: Straight GAIT: Moderate COORDINATION: 8.7/10 HABITS AND MANNERISMS: (tbh) SCENT: Mix of fancy colognes. Sometimes Degree and Old Spice. MOOD: Mostly Cheerful ATTITUDE: Willing to interact, yet semi-private STABILITY: Emotionally 6/10 EXPRESSIVENESS: Somewhat Extrovert WHEN HAPPY: Plays electric guitar. WHEN DEPRESSED: Plays sad American rock. WHEN ANGRY: Goes out for an adventure. CURRENT RESIDENCE: Praça Gen. Tibúrcio - Urca, Rio de Janeiro - RJ, 22290-270, Brazil

RELATES TO: His mother. Pets/Familiars: 10 German shepherds.

WARDROBE: (Character’s closet.–formal, casual, or other kind of wear?)

FUNDS: Unknown, but by heritage, millions or billions of pounds. HOME: Pendennis Castle, Castle Drive, Falmouth TR11 4LP, United Kingdom

TRANSPORTATION: Rolls-Royce Wraith. LICENSE PLATE NUMBER: U-BL0K3 COLLECTIONS: Ancient artifacts, animal skins, skulls (human and animal), sculptures MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: (In money) PRIZED POSSESSION: One of Tutankhamun’s death masks

LOVERS: A few college students. MARITAL STATUS: Single TURN-ONS: Cute laugh, piercing eyes, intelligence, charisma POSITION: Dominant PLAYS: Roleplay. ELEMENT: Water OCCUPATION: Tomb raider, adventurer, archaeologist, student, hitboy. WORK ETHIC: Very hard worker – in all occupations. RANK: (From 1 to 50) 22 INCOME: 89K in US Dollars. WEALTH STATUS: Upper (wealthy) EXPERIENCE: High-moderate. ORGANIZATIONS/AFFILIATIONS: Croft Royal Family, British Royal Family, Endurance Crew, British Special Services, British Historians’ Society. IQ: 213 average. EDUCATION: High. SCHOOL: King’s College, Strand, London WC2R 2LS, UK GRADE: Almost all A’s. SPECIAL EDUCATION: Not held back, or skipped. Made 2 honor rolls. SOCIAL STEREOTYPE: Geekish Punk. DEGREES: Bachelor’s INTELLIGENCE: Interpersonal EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES:Archery and soccer. RELIGION: Calvinist CRIME RECORD:

11 murders

MOTIVATION: Love for his family. PRIORITIES: First, God. Second, Family. Third, Business. PHILOSOPHY: Nothing is impossible. POLITICAL PARTY: Republican Conservative ETIQUETTE: Good at the table CULTURE: Mostly tidy. INFLUENCES: Mom, Dad. RELATES TO: Dad. TRADITIONS: Calvinist traditions, English traditions, Christmas, Easter. SUPERSTITIONS: m i r r o r s . . . HOBBIES/INTERESTS: Firearms, hunting, history. SKILLS/TALENTS: Studies, sculpting, art, writing, guitar, singing, dancing, survival SENSE OF HUMOR: Propert, rarely naughty. PET PEEVES: Disloyalty and arrogance. SUPERSTITIONS/BELIEFS: Illuminati DREAMS/NIGHTMARES: Death of his mother. QUIRKS: Sleeps upside-down. SAVVY: the political/military/underground lingo. CAN’T UNDERSTAND: Vietnamese. CLOSET HOBBY: Adventuring. GUILTY PLEASURE: 420-blaze-it.

LANGUAGES: English, French, Italian, German, Portuguese, Spanish, Chinese, Korean, Russian, Latin, Japanese, etc. ACCENT: English VOICE: Semi-hard SPEECH IMPEDIMENTS: None. GREETINGS AND FAREWELLS: Greetings. STATE OF MIND: Interested COMPLIMENT: ‘You are stunning.’ INSULT: ‘Bloke.’ EXPLETIVE: ‘Shyte.’ TAG LINE: ' however ... ’ SIGNATURE QUOTE: ’ i walk a lonely road, the only road that i have ever known. ’ HOROSCOPE: Aquarius JUNG: ESFJ: Providers. Traditionalists all the way. They are also quite sociable for an Earth sign, and they like having things planned out. ENNEAGRAM: Type 5 : The Intense, Cerebral Type; Perceptive, Innovative, Secretive, and Isolated MORMAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Good SIN: Lust VIRTUE: Humility COMPARISON: Bobcat SYMBOL: Holy Grail with books inside MOTTO: none as of yet THEME SONG: ‘Boulevard of Broken Dreams’ by Green Day

WEAPON:

Webley Mk. VI - .455 Webley (2x)

Lee-Enfield No. 1 Mk.III* (HT)

Sten Mk II (2x)

Trench Gun

5 TNT

5 Grenades

TROPES: Just-Like-His-Mother

[ WEALTH ]

$ Financial : wealthy / moderate / poor / in poverty / subsisting. ✚ Medical : fit / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged / non applicable ✪ Class or Caste : upper / middle / working / street trash / slave / unsure ✔ Education : qualified / unqualified / studying / other ✖ Criminal Record : yes, for major crimes / yes, for minor crimes / no / has committed crimes, but has not been caught yet

[ FAMILY ]

◒ Children : has a child or children / has no children / wants children / verse dependent / is a child (in primary verses) ◑ Relationship with Family : close with sibling(s) / not close with sibling(s) / has no siblings / sibling(s) is deceased / estranged ◔ Affiliation : orphaned / adopted / disowned / raised by birth parent / not applicable / verse dependent

[ TRAITS + TENDENCIES ]

♦ extroverted / introverted / in between ♦ disorganized / organized / in between ♦ close-minded / open-minded / in between ♦ calm / anxious / in between ♦ disagreeable / agreeable / in between ♦ cautious / reckless / in between ♦ patient / impatient / in between ♦ outspoken / reserved / in between ♦ leader / follower / in between ♦ empathetic / unempathetic / in between ♦ optimistic / pessimistic / in between ♦ traditional / modern / in between ♦ hard-working / lazy / in between ♦ cultured / uncultured / in between / unknown ♦ loyal / disloyal / unknown ♦ faithful / unfaithful / unknown

[ BELIEFS ]

★ Faith : monotheist / polytheist / atheist / agnostic / it’s complicated ☆ Belief in Ghosts or Spirits : yes / no / don’t know / don’t care ✮ Belief in an Afterlife : yes / no / don’t know / don’t care ✯ Belief in Reincarnation : yes / no / don’t know / don’t care ❃ Belief in Aliens : yes / no / don’t know / don’t care ✧ Religious : orthodox / liberal / in between / not religious ❀ Philosophical : yes / no

[ SEXUALITY & ROMANTIC INCLINATION ]

❤ Sexuality : heterosexual / homosexual / bisexual / asexual / pansexual / Demisexual ❥ Sex : sex repulsed / sex neutral / sex favorable / clueless ♥ Romance: romance repulsed / romance neutral / romance favorable / curious ❣ Sexually : adventurous / experienced / naive / inexperienced / curious / inhibited ⚧ Potential Sexual Partners : male / female / agender / other / none / all ⚧ Potential Romantic Partners : male / female / agender / other / none / all

[ ABILITIES ]

☠ Combat Skills : excellent / good / moderate / poor / none ≡ Literacy Skills : excellent / good / moderate / poor / none ✍ Artistic Skills : excellent / good / moderate / poor / none ✂ Technical Skills : excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

[ HABITS ]

☕ Drinking Alcohol : never / sometimes / frequently / to excess ☁ Smoking : trying to quit / never / sometimes / frequently / to excess ✿ Other Narcotics : never / sometimes / frequently / to excess ✌ Medicinal Drugs : never / sometimes / frequently / to excess ☻ Indulgent Food : never / sometimes / frequently / to excess $ Splurge Spending : never / sometimes / frequently / to excess ♣ Gambling : never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

( obvious aesthetics in bold. secret aesthetics italicized )

[ COLORS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green.apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. chartreuse.

[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat.cold.steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. acid.

[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. flexible. short. tall. normal height. muscular. piercing. tattoos.

[ WEAPONS ] fists. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls

.[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires.emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool.fur.lace.leather. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust.glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. latex. spandex.

[ NATURE ] grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. sunflowers. lavender.petals.thorns. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. ocean. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rainforest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains.

[ ANIMALS ] lions. wolves. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. vultures. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantises. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. raccoons. minks. foxes. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. rats.

[ FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. whiskey.beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. lime. cherry. strawberry. blackberry. blueberry watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream.caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. tacos. ambrosia.

[ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smiting.sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting.singing. karaoke.martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. cds. records.vinyls.cassettes. piano. violin. guitar. electric guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. surfing. skateboarding. snowboarding. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. running.

[ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. heels. leggings. trousers.jeans. skirt. shorts. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. trench coats. dusters. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. suspenders. belt. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. greasepaint

.[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. die-ary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. indifference. loneliness. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. hugs.

#▇ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵃᶰ ᵇᵉᶤᶰᵍ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᵐʸ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳˑ ▇ (MUSE)

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