#gee thanks pal

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Legal Consequences

JK Rowling: hello children Clive Barker: whoa jk rowling! you're alive! Barker: oh thank god we were all really worried Barker: since you hadn't tweeted in a week Barker: unless there was some REASON you're suddenly not tweeting Barker: hahaha

Barker: gee joanne is there some REASON you're not tweeting? Barker: some INCIDENT which might be, for some reason, restraining you from tweeting? Barker: like the advice of a lawyer perhaps? ha ha Poe: don't listen to clive joanne Poe: that lawyer is giving you good advice

Rowling: can you believe that imane khelif is sssuing me for cyber harassssment??? Rowling: cyberharasssment. now honesstly what is that? Rowling: do they give a nobel prize for cyber chemissstry?

Rowling: they would never find Britain'ss mosst beloved children'ss author guilty of cyberharassssment! Koontz: Julia Donaldson did cyberharassment?! Rowling: no no i was talking about me! Koontz: you're a children's author? Rowling: of course i wrote the Christmas pig Koontz:

Rowling: and the ickabog!!! Rowling: clive tell him i wrote the ickabog! Rowling: remember when you used to call it the "ickyhog" or whatever, always saying it wrong to troll me? good times right? Barker: yeah we're way past that joanne Barker: like so far past that

Rowling: i wrote the ickabog! the Christmasss pig! Koontz: Rowling: I'm Britain'ss favorite childrenss writer, damnit! Koontz: i like the Gruffalo :) Rowling: ughhhh!!!

Koontz: gosh joanne Koontz: if you feel like people aren't remembering your writing Koontz: maybe you should do more writing? Koontz: instead of the transphobia? Barker: damnnnn Barker: from the mouths of babes! Rowling: shut up

Rowling: that'ss cute, dean Rowling: thiss kid is cute Rowling: ssusspicioussly cute Rowling: let me measure your larynx, "dean" Poe: whoa whoa whoa joanne you can't do that here Poe: this isn't a Kansas elementary school locker room

King: gee joanne this is a real pickle King: maybe you could consult with some of the other named defendants in this suit to compare notes? King: like elon musk! King: elon, wouldn't you like to talk to joanne? Elon Musk: mama mia i like to talka to my besta bambino Stephano king!

King: no really i think you'd prefer to hang out with joanne Musk: me anna Stephano king, we besta pals! Musk: justa coupla paisanos, mama mia! King: please elon

King: go on elon go have a talk with joanne Musk: eyyy Stephano king we besta friends ey? Musk: check dis out Musk: [posts an AI image, it is not clear what it is supposed to be] Musk: ey? ey?

Barker: haha is Julia Donaldson in your vents too? Rowling: NO Rowling: don't mock me! i'm not ssome paranoid fool! Rowling: i have Dianne duane and Katherine applegate in the ventss

King: oh you've got a Katherine applegate infestation now too? Rowling: i think they have a nesst somewhere Rowling: i really need to hire a guy about that Rowling: it's jusst that I've been so busy lately King: oh yeah with the transphobia Rowling: exactly!!! with the transsphobia

[bogleech]

ALSO ON STORENVY HERE

ONCE UPON A DARK TIME IN THE TERROR AGES SOME MORON SCARED THE WORLD TO DEATH (GEE THANKS PAL!!!!!!!) BY WRITING A STORY CALLED "THE DAY OF ALL THE BLOOD." THE STORY WAS SO DARK AND GROSS THAT ANYONE WHO READ IT GOT SCARED IN REAL LIFE ALSO.

NOW MANY CENTURIES LATER THE SAME TWISTEFIED AUTHOR IS PUTTING THE STORY IN REAL PAPER YOU CAN TOUCH ALTHOUGH THE STORY IS STILL FAKE (………OR IS IT…………..) ALONG WITH SEVERAL OF THE ORIGINAL RELATED STORIES AND A BUNCH OF BRAND NEW ONES TOO SCARY TO PUT ON THE INTERNET!! ALSo the new stories aren't entirely in caps lock anymore because that got old if they were LOUDER you would get scared so hard you would quite possibly die to death for all time. This small thin paperback prints and ships in time to ruin thanksgiving or maybe christmas!!!!!!!

BRAND NEW STORIES INCLUDE:

THE MOST MURDERED GIRL IN THE WORLD: One day a girl did not listen to her mother, and got murdered by all the murderers in the world at once. The power of almost 100 murders at once transformed her forever…but into what!? The clue is in the title, but you'll never guess. heh heh heh.

THE TRUEST CRIME: one day there was a crime so terrible you will not be able to read what the bad guy did without throwing up your guts at how evil it was. Let's just say it sends 100 MILLION BABIES to prison…and that's only the beginning………

THE BODYLESS DOG: what happens when a dog gets its body cut off and doesn't die!? Well he isn't happy about it I can tell you that much.

VAMPIRE HANDS: this story is about YOU and the time your hands turned into the hands of a vampire. Maybe you think having to keep your hands in tiny coffins all day long doesn't sound so bad but that is only one of the more than one things you have to do when you have vampire hands!!!!!!

THE INVISIBLEST KNIFE: in this story you accidentally kill everyone and everything you care about and even ruin a hot dog completely. Don't worry! There's no such thing as the invisiblest knife! I am looking around right now and I don't see it anywhere. Do you??

WHEN ALL THE STEEL TURNED INTO WORMS (and it was not my fault!!!) this is one of the LONGEST stories (more than two pages!) in the book and is about when one day all the steel in the world became worms that were scared of humans so if you even looked at a car it would fall apart from all the worms running away into the dirt. Again these are descriptions and not the whole stories so this is just one of the things that happens!

THE DAY IT RAINED THE HEADS FROM SPACE: what happens when a really sharp human space probe meets a planet where everyone is the same exact height and always stands in a line on a perfectly flat plane?!?!?!?!?!!?!!?? Well they aren't happy about it I can tell you that much.

THE DOG THAT WAS TOO LONG: you like dogs, do you??? Well sometimes wishes come true but sometimes…sometimes wishes suck and were stupid to make actually. Fool.

THE WEIRD GUY: don't worry, there's no such thing as a weird guy, and if there was, it would not turn out to have been you all along! Pretend you didn't read this massive spoiler.

THE GHOST'S GHOSTS: everyone knows a ghost is twice as scary as a regular person, but what about a ghost's ghost? Obviously that would be twice as scary as a regular ghost. A twisted tale of how the human race is exterminated several hundred times in a row.

DARKNESS MOM: the worst most awful most disgusting scariest monster in the WORLD!! You will TERRIFIED to read about this mom who is TOO TALL and has a GROSS TOO LONG TONGUE and SHARP MONSTER HANDS and if she GETS YOU she will make you be IN TROUBLE all the time for like NO reason!!! NOOOO!!!!!!

THE THINGS THAT DID THE WRONG THINGS: you better not read this secret government list of things that do the wrong stuff!! The secret guys will catch you and you'll have to go to secret jail so you don't go telling everyone about anomanolies such as THE WORST TURTLE (three words, FOOL: spikes on it) or THE CLOCK THAT TELLS TIM (tim is alright though this is not his fault)

THE HALF MURDERER: what if a normal person and a murderer had a baby? It's more likely than you think! Or shall we say…half more likely…mwa ha ha ha

THE REVENGE OF THE DAY OF ALL THE BLOOD: THE LONG FEARED SEQUEL (WARNING: this one is in capitol letters again, it is PULLING NO PUNCHES!)

…………AND MAYBE SOME MORE IF I FEEL LIKE IT! *actually some more are already in it I just might add a couple more than that even

[halliestinks]

Not enough butters appreciation smh 😔 since ny sweet boy deserves better can I pls get headcanons of a reader who has like a MASSIVE crush on him and is super affectionate and sweet with him and he's not used to it

Butters x Reader who has a Massive Crush on him

a/n: YES PLS MORE BUTTERS REQUESTS!!! I agree 100% he doesn’t get enough appreciation and he’s literally one of my favourite characters (apart from clyde) 🙁🙁

• you’ve always been head over heels for butters, the way he’s so sweet and genuine to others and how he never has any underlying intentions when he’s being friendly to you always gave you butterflies

• he of course is completely oblivious to your crush, assuming you just think of him as really good pal

• butters isn’t used to someone being so openly affectionate towards him, so when you start showing him affection he gets confused and unsure how to react

• he often blushes and stammers, not knowing how to handle your overwhelming sweetness

• is soo confused, like somebody actually likes being around him???? AND they’re not just using him?????

• despite his confusion you are super patient. you know that butters may need time to adjust to your affectionate nature, you simply enjoy making him feel appreciated

• you despise how everyone uses him, constantly finding yourself sticking up for him even when he doesn’t realize he needs it

• you get so defensive whenever somebody exploits his naivety, though often times he reassures you that it’s okay and he is willingly helping whoever is taking advantage of him. (he doesn’t understand he’s just being used)

“butters just think about it before you agree, please? for me?”

“w—well alright…”

• it sometimes ends with you stopping him, while other times you aren’t so lucky. you make sure to tag along just in case something happens anyways

• complimenting him throughout the day is a must, it will successfully leave him feeling giddy and majorly boosts his confidence

• the first time it happened probably went like this;

“your smile is really cute :)”

“aw gee!! thanks y/n!!! you have a cute smile too!!!”

“☺️”

“…wait”

• takes a minute for him to realise what you just said. he literally NEVER gets compliments so it catches him off guard

• immediately goes red and fiddles with his thumbs as he usually does when he gets shy

• his reaction made you want to compliment him all the time, it irks you so much that he’s never really had much affection towards him

• you usually suggest places to hang out, like at an arcade or a restaurant, etc. he will agree to go no matter where it is, he’s just happy to have somebody who genuinely wants to be around him

• chilling at home together is equally as fun, watching movies while either you play with his hair or he plays with yours

• his parents adore you, they constantly ask if you want to come over for lunch/dinner. they’ll even make an exception for you to visit whenever butters is grounded

• one time you actually got grounded with butters for doing something silly, so you had to stay in his room for the entirety of your stay. you ended up having alot of fun that day, and you got closer to butters so you decide it was worth the grounding

• butters will sometimes surprise you with homemade gifts, or he’ll save up his money to buy you something you’ve mentioned wanting a few times

“do ya like it?? I made it ‘specially for you!!”

“…this is the nicest gift anyone has ever gotten me 😖”

“a—are you crying?!”

• your heart practically melts, it baffles you how somebody can be so pure and yet doesn’t get the love he deserves from others

• it doesn’t take long before he starts to realize just how much he enjoys your company, your sweetness and affection leaving him with a funny feeling in his stomach after hanging out. and he finds himself falling for you too

• I feel like he would probably confess to you almost immediately after he realizes his feelings for you

• you would be hanging out at his place playing a board game, until he can’t hold it in any longer and just straight up confesses

“I—I really like you y/n! like… I like— like you… do you uh.. like— like me too??”

“of course I like— like you too butters!!! I have for ages, I thought you already knew??”

“really?!? I had no idea!!!”

“and here I thought I made it so obvious.”

• the two of you start dating afterwards and nobody is surprised, almost everybody thought you were already a couple so!!

• anyways, he tries his hardest to be the best partner ever. and you do the same, making sure he knows how much you love him everyday <3

[hetalia-club]

I said before that America is like a looney tunes character but I also believe Russia operates in the same way. That their strength is just so next level that it's cartoonish, they can't kill each other so they just violently maim each other in the most elaborate ways.

To me I can't picture cold war fights between the two of them any other way. Picture these for me...

1.Russia waiting around the corner with a big mallet ready to knock an unsuspecting America unconscious as he chases after him.

2. America putting a sign on a building that says 'free vodka inside'. To which Russia zooms in quickly but when he does the sign falls away to read 'radiation factory do not enter!'

3. America and Russia getting into a fight and it's just one of those big dust clouds with stars and wacky sound effects coming out.

4. Them arguing and doing the back and forth where America says "Capitalism is better!" and Russia says "Communism is better!" Until America says "Communism! is better" and then Russia replies with "No Capitalism is better! and if I'm ever not a Capitalist let me be struck dead!" And then he's struck by lightning.

5. Russia sending America a plane ticket in the mail that says "Ticket to Capitalist beach paradise. + All you can eat disgusting delicious American foods" America quickly packs a bag and gets changed into sunglasses and a Hawaiian shirt and hops onto a plane but it just goes to Siberia where America quickly jumps out and says something like "relaxation here I am!" he feels a tap on his shoulder and it's a polar bear and he just gets mauled.

6. Them playing hot potato with active dynamite. America getting Russia to keep it by saying something like "No no comrade! It's a gift! I bought it for you." And Russia's like "Awe thanks! why is it ticking?" And America's like "Gee I don't know pal, gotta run!" and zooms away right before it explodes leaving a very annoyed looking Russia covered in soot with his hair blown back.

7. Russia shoving America into a freezer and setting it to "artic" and ripping of the handle. America falls out a few hours later as a giant ice cube.

8. Russia punching America in the back of the head at a meeting and America turns around all surprised and Russia says "Gee pal I'm real sorry, shouldn't have hit you when your back was turned that was un- sportsman like of me." And stands America up dusting him off. America is like. "No worries buddy you only did this." And punches him in the face. Then he goes "Now if you would have done this..." And punches him in the gut. "Or this" And upper cuts him. "We would have had a serious issue...and I would of had to do something like this..." And America takes out a big mallet and hits Russia with it sending him through the celling. When Russia comes down he's like "Gee I'm sure glad I didn't do that then!"

So like major cartoonish and crazy things happen around them and at their will but everyone else is just normal. Only Russia and America can break the laws of physics for their bit.

[loganslowdown4]

Roman: Logan! Can I get a copy of Math for Dummies? There’s a cute guy who’s a mathematician and I need to learn fast!

Logan: *visibly annoyed* Alright, you can have the book but it’ll cost you $5.

Roman: *sweating profusely* Uh ok, here’s $20?

Logan: And $5 is your change, good luck!

Roman: *relieved* Gee thanks buddy! You’re a real pal!

Logan: *counting his money* Uh huh.

[spaceyaceface]

Wow your prompts are so good 😖 can I request either 1 or 20? I prefer Ominis for these prompts but you can do Sebastian too, whichever you like 😁 Thank you!

My pal I also prefer Ominis, so this works out nicely :) I decided to go with 20 because golly gee do I love little love sick Ominis. Also this one kind of got away with me because I was thinking about it the whole time I was at work and it basically turned into its own oneshot, oops. I'm actually extremely proud of this ahhh

20 - "it hurts me, just how much i ache for you."

Warnings: None :)

Link to prompt list

He couldn't help but think that perhaps coming to the reunion had been a mistake. Ominis had never been one for crowds; they could be difficult to navigate, given his blindness. He also was just not much of a people person. But even so, he found himself seated at a table in the Three Broomsticks, five years after he graduated Hogwarts.

Various people came to greet him here and there, stopping to ask how he was, how his job in Muggle relations was going. Each was just as polite as the next, but every time, he couldn't help but hope... well, he couldn't help but hope it was her.

If he was honest, she was why he came in the first place. He was still holding onto hope that she would be there, that he could here her voice---even just for a short greeting. It was pathetic, but he craved it.

In the five years since they had graduated, they had corresponded only in letters. She was off traveling, trying to discover more about her ancient magic. For a while he had hoped that the separation would allow his unachievable dreams to fade. But time had only made the ache in his heart grow stronger.

He clutched the long-since empty glass in his hands. Why had he dared to get his hopes up---even if she did come, what good would it have done?

But a voice stirred him from his thoughts.

"Ominis!"

It was like a wave of cool water had come over him, the sound giving him new life. He sat straighter in his chair, saying her name as he smiled.

She didn't hesitate before sitting beside him, nor did she hesitate before throwing her arms around him in a warm embrace. His eyes widened for a moment before he returned the action, savoring the feel of her finally so near. The scent of her perfume invaded his every thought, tainting them with fond memories of their time in Hogwarts. The time he had fallen so madly in love with her.

She pulled away, but kept her hand on his shoulder. "I've missed you more than you could imagine."

He almost laughed at her words. Did she really think she could compete with the longing for her he felt each and every second? Even so, he smiled. "I've missed you, too. Your letters, however wonderful they are, weren't enough."

This was the truth---but only a small portion of it. How could mere words, no matter how kind or telling they were, amount to the warmth of her hand on his arm? How could they compare to the brush of her skirt against his knee, or the musical tone of her voice?

She laughed. "Tell me, old friend, how are you doing?"

The conversation flowed like the years had never passed. For a while, Ominis was afraid she would share the same pleasantries his other peers had, and move on. But as the night continued, it became clear that was not her intention. As popular as she had been in school, other classmates approached the pair of them, asking how she was on her adventures, and in turn doing the same with Ominis. There were ample opportunities for her to leave with another, to spot someone else across the room and bid him farewell. But she didn't.

Instead, she sat by his side the entire night, letting her chair scoot closer inch by inch as she moved to hear him better over the noise of the inn. Soon, it wasn't just her skirt that tickled him---it was the whole of her leg, nearly pressed into him.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt her breath on his ear as she spoke softly to him. "I think I've talked to everyone I care to. Do you think we could take a walk outside?"

It was no surprise to him when he readily accepted her offer.

Together, they strolled through the dark streets of Hogsmeade. They were arm in arm, and her warmth felt all the more inviting in the cool of the night. He didn't bother taking out his wand---he trusted her. She was the only guiding light he needed.

They came to stop at the end of the path where an overlook laid. She sighed, resting her head against his arm. He had gotten taller in their time apart.

"It was nice seeing everyone again," she said.

"Yes," Ominis replied. It had been nice. But really, this was much better---time with her, away from the crowds.

"I didn't realize how much I had missed this place," she said softly. "I'm glad I'm coming back."

"You... You're coming back? For how long?" Ominis asked. Don't get your hopes up, you fool.

"Forever, maybe."

He swore his heart stopped. His throat felt dry.

She must have felt him stiffen up, because she lifted her head off her shoulder to look at him. "Ominis? Are you alright? You're not... disappointed to hear that, are you?"

"No, I'm fine, it's... it's the opposite, really. I... how do I explain this?"

He gently unlinked their arms, but traced his hand down her wrist, taking hold of her hand. Their fingers intertwined without a thought. He took a deep breath---it felt shakier than he would have liked. "For five years I have wished I had the courage to beg you not to leave. To tell you how desperately I need you with me. For five years, I have tried and failed to love you even a fraction less than the day before. It never worked."

He could feel his heart racing---or was that her pulse?---In the palm of his hand. They had stepped closer together. The distance, as small as it was, still felt like too much.

"I wanted to call you home to me, but how could I cut off those beautiful wings of yours? I convinced myself I could live with the pain of letting you be free." His head angled down, and he could feel her breath fanning against his face. The hand not holding hers came to rest on her cheek, fingertips grazing the back of her head, tangling with her hair. He felt the gentle weight of her palm come to rest on his chest. Her nose brushed gently against his own, and as he whispered, his lips ghosted over hers. "It hurts me, just how much I ache for you."

He wasn't sure who had made that last motion, the one that finally allowed him the feel of her lips on his. It didn't matter---nothing else mattered outside warmth of their kiss, the way he pulled her desperately closer with the hand in her hair, her fingers gripping at the fabric of his shirt as if her very life would end if they ever moved apart.

Finally, when their lungs screamed for air, the separated, ragged breath tangling between them. She rested her forehead to his. "I've flown home, my love," she whispered. "And I never intend to leave again."

[tavolgisvist]

When he [Bob Eubanks] hired me he was the man who promoted the Beatles in LA. I was never really sure he liked them, but the hell, he was getting rich at the Hollywood Bowl. There were many other deals going. One of the drivers, after the first Bowl show, handed the Beatles towels to dry their sweat. He later cut up the towels, encased half-inch squares of towel in plastic, and sold them for five bucks each. The driver was really a radio station newsman. I guess he’s got turned on by now, but in those days he wasn’t very cool. It was all deals then. Anyway, I got to know Eubanks during our first American visit, with the Beatles in 1964, and he said whydoncher work for me buddy, we’ll get rich? So our family of six emigrated.

...

Paul Revere and the Raiders, the Beau Brummels, Joe and Eddie and Jerry Naylor. Plus the Beatles, for though I wasn’t working for them any more they were the love of my life and Bob Eubanks figured that with a love like that you know it can’t be bad. ‘I’m going to have you fly to the Bahamas,’ he said, the night we arrived in Los Angeles, 70,000 miles from England and intending to set up home. ‘Tonight?’ ‘No. Next week.’ Gee, thanks. Maybe we can get a house, find schools, buy some furniture, get used to the heat and, all in one week, fly to the Bahamas. And, also, he said, why didn’t I fly to Sacramento, see Paul Revere and the Raiders, make friends, sign them up and go on stage to say: ‘Hi. I’m Derek Taylor, used to work for the Beatles. I’m now working for Paul Revere and I’m flying to the Bahamas next week to see the Beatles make their new movie and I’m going to take them your love and also the good wishes of Paul Revere and the Raiders.’ I guessed this must be how things work in America, so I did it. I made friends with Paul Revere, signed them up and went on stage and made my speech. Later that night, I went to the motel where Revere and company were staying and he showed me how you could put a match to a fart and there would be green flame. I quite liked the guy. I liked the group too. They were good and they did well. They were all young then (all but Revere and Mark Lindsay who had seen a lot of hard service here and there), and full of hope of taking over from the Beatles. ‘Are we good enough?’ they asked and it was tough to answer ‘No’, so one just hedged and mumbled and begged the question. The next week I flew to the Bahamas with Dave Hull, squarest disc jockey at KRLA, an amiable short-hair who believed that Medicare had to be the worst thing to happen to America since the New Deal. We arrived in Nassau to find the Beatles just leaving for dinner in the town. They were less than glad to see me, old pal in radio drag with a tape-recorder over my shoulders. ‘This is Derek Taylor, reporting from the Bahamas. I have with me Ringo Starr of the Beatles. Hi Ringo. Nice to see you again.’ ‘Hi Derek. Nice to see you again. What are you doing with a microphone under my famed nose?’ What indeed? Bob’s idea was that I would use my relationship with them, my friendship even, and get interviews which would be unique: ‘Not merely interviews, but rather … conversation between friends’ was the slogan we would use to sell the tapes, once they had been cut up, packaged and prepared for use on radio stations. A scale of charges was drawn up – $50, $100, $200, depending on the wattage of the station. None of this was to be communicated to the Beatles. All they were to know was that Derek was doing a little gig for KRLA to get Prestige Publicity some working capital. Before the family and I had arrived in Los Angeles, there had been dozens of commercials on KRLA: ‘Derek Taylor is jetting to town. Derek Taylor? Wow. Yes, folks, Derek Taylor is coming to KRLA.’ Also, above my glamorous name, letters had gone to every showbiz celebrity in town, announcing my coming. Oh, yes, it’s all true. * Paul was very mean in the Bahamas. I mean, mean. Who is to blame him? Not I. Not me.

‘Bloody hell,’ he said when he saw me. ‘Bloody hell, Derek. You with a tape-recorder asking us questions?’

Oh yes, me with a tape-recorder. The thing was what was the thing I was? Their friend or a journalist or their ex-publicist Brian Epstein’s ex-personal assistant or a puppet of Bob Eubanks or a man in search of a career in American radio or what? The answer is I didn’t think there was any choice. I didn’t know about things like that. I mean I wouldn’t rob an old woman with one leg and a blind dog, and I wouldn’t take a bribe and I wouldn’t rape my sister but I would do many, many things if I was told to because that was the way it had always been. I would write a list of Forty Fab Facts you didn’t know about the Beatles and sell them. I would allow myself to be offered to Lloyd Thaxton of Hollywood as a television link man, I would do so many things which now would be quite ridiculous. I would, even, have the extraordinary cheek to turn up in the Bahamas with a tape recorder to interview the Beatles. It was as well I did it then; I couldn’t do it now. God, I must have been brave or daft or something I’m not sure any more. Brian had slipped out of the Bahamas before I arrived. A good idea. We hadn’t been very close since the previous year, 1964, when I had resigned in the Riviera Motel near Kennedy Airport. It was a shame because we lost valuable talking-time and he hadn’t very long to live and many, many people with whom Brian had trouble have their own regrets that their patience was not more extensive and, of course, patience was what you needed with Brian because he could be, if not impossible, then unbearable, and sometimes impossibly unbearable, but many of the people I like most are absolutely terrible. You too? Good.

We were down on the beach at Paradise Island (you reached it by ferry from Nassau; in those days it was owned by Huntington Hartford, later Howard Hughes) and it was a fantastic rich man’s folly with a casing like a palace out of Ben Hur, quite empty, safe doors swinging open, phones out of order – open to wind and water. The beaches that were Paradise, empty but for Beatles paying gold for the privilege, and an army of savage extras, one of whom was Murray the K, disc jockey lately become fifth Beatle and anxious to appear in a movie with them. (‘For the image, man.’) Down on the beach at Paradise Island, Dave Hull had one recorder and mike, I had another. He had given me his mike: ‘This will put more oomph’ (oomph, for Chrissake?) ‘in your voice,’ he said, showing me. ‘Moooore ba aaaaasssss sound, like, deeeeeep.’ OK Dave, I can dig it. The mike was faulty and I popped p’s in the breeze.

We split up between the Beatles. I took John first; caustic John who was really nothing of the sort. He pulled a couple of desultory put downs and then gave me as good a tape as you’ll get if you are asking questions like: ‘Whereja buy your boots?’ and ‘Do you enjoy filming?’ and ‘How old are you?’ of someone you know at least as well as your brother, and maybe better. George told me about going to a family wedding in Liverpool.

Paul decided not to be mean any longer – guessing, correctly, that life was bad enough without rubbing my nose in it – and talked about song-writing (‘we can carve Paul’s up into twenty pieces,’ said Dave. Let’s see, twenty by $100, that’s 2,000 bucks) and Ringo said it was great to be married, a quote you can read even today. It comes up as fresh as ever. That evening we had dinner in the open air, along a fine table laid with white linen and silver from a graceful pantry. I was invited with one of those, ‘Don’t tell a soul, man, just give Dave and Murray the slip, like come alone,’ and it was a nice time. Dave and I flew back to LA next day. Bob Eubanks met us at the airport with press photographers, a frown creasing his handsome, suntanned mask. ‘Hi buddy. Get the tapes?’ ‘Yeah man; got the fucking tapes. Lost me soul, tho’, lost me soul.’ He seemed very glad to hear it. Gayle and Cecil were waiting back at 6290 Sunset, Joan and the kids were at the airport with Bob and by the time we arrived home in Nichols Canyon, where we had just scored a house before I flew to the Bahamas, I was needed in the office to write about my thrilling experiences with the fab Beatles in the sun-drenched Bahamas. I thought maybe I was really earning the stinking $215 a week and Joan wondered if any money could make up for the changes she was having to go through. A few days later, Bob Eubanks and his team of mailers, tape-editors and salesmen were ready to market the tapes, segmented, trailered, packaged. Beatlemania would do the rest. An ad was placed in Billboard. Disaster … No one wanted the tapes, at all. But these, we said, were conversations between friends, we said. No deal, said the thundering silence. And Brian Epstein, through his lawyers in New York, threatened vengeance in the worst way. ‘I back down,’ I told Bob. ‘You stay where you are,’ said Bob. ‘We won’t have hands to count the money.’ Forget it. I backed down and out of Beatle tapes. Also, I never had the lust for gold again. Money doesn’t talk, it swears* and Hollywood is a town of many temptations. I left Bob Eubanks a few weeks later, taking with me 2½ per cent of the Byrds who were then grossing a few hundred a month and Paul Revere and the Raiders who had been paying Eubanks $750 a month but who asked me would I take $350 a month on account of they weren’t all that well heeled (they were in fact very well heeled), and I may not be able to do the job as well without Bob behind me. OK, OK, I’ll take it. This was the middle of 1965. The Byrds’ epoch-making Tambourine Man had been released and it had made Number 1 in the US and was about to do the same in Britain. Revere had yet to have a hit, but they were good on stage. The Byrds and Revere were both Columbia Records and they didn’t really enjoy each other’s music though they shared the same producer, Terry Melcher. Serving them was therefore like walking on a tightrope. It was like pedalling backwards on a one-wheeled cycle with a puncture, body all aching and racked with bennies, between ‘Revere: the finest performing group in North America, Oregon’s answer to Liverpool’, and ‘America’s best group’ which is what I thought about the Byrds then and still do, mostly. When, later, I picked up the Beach Boys, who also wanted their publicist to write ‘best’ and ‘greatest’, it became more a matter for a clever thesaurus than a tired, tired biped with twenty clients and five children.

...

In those days, and the more I write, the further off and the further out they become (remember the McGuinn glasses and David Crosby’s cape?) – in those days there was the Beatles and everyone else and as we flew to Britain, Michael Clarke, Byrd drummer, was asking, did I figure they would get to meet the Beatles? Since ‘These Are Not Merely Interviews, These Are Conversations Between Friends’, the last thing I wanted to do was run into the Beatles! Yet, all the pre publicity to the tour suggested that the Beatles would be intrigued to see what the Byrds were like. So a meeting was unavoidable. On our first night in London, I stayed in the hotel, the Europa in Grosvenor Square. Mike went out with Gene and David (I think they all went out) and at about 4 a.m. Mike woke me and said, ‘We met them, we actually got to meet the Beatles. Paul said “hi” and George wants to see you.’ Oh yeah? Next night it happened that George and John came to Blaises where the Byrds performed to a room no bigger than the one you’re sitting in now, on a stage insufficient to carry all the drum kit. They played louder than anyone else had been known to play, even in Madison Square Garden they were bloody loud, and Blaises or blazes, they were going to tune up and belt the music out. I thought they were marvellous and I think John and George did, but some of the English smirkers smirked and you only need a few English smirkers in a half lit room to feel pleased you’re not proud to be English. Upstairs in Blaises, after the set, John and George sat at a long table and invited us in. Boy, were they big-time then – I’d forgotten. It wasn’t them at all, it was the situation. They were absolutely IT. John sat at the centre of the table, George at the head and they sent for wine for free. It came and we arrived with it. ‘Thanks for the tapes,’ said John, very loud. ‘Which tapes?’ I said, very soft. ‘You know which tapes,’ said John, still very loud. ‘True,’ I said, a little louder, knowing that was the end of that. So it was. We all left, again in that under-the-breath ‘come alone’ way, John grabbing bottles of wine to wave goodbye by way of goodbye to Jim Carter-Fea, then owner of Blaises, By Appointment, Host to the Beatles. We went round to Brian Jones’s apartment where we smoked some hash and some grass and as there was no food in the place and, after the wine had finished, no liquid excepting a half-bottle of milk, solid as chalk, we went out for hamburgers and then went home.

*Bob Dylan

(As Time Goes by Derek Taylor)

(Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI)

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Sword gays showdown - preliminaries

Propaganda:

For Corinne D'Artagnan:

the only barbie to study the blade. the only barbie to have three gfs. gee barbie! how come your mom lets you have three girlfriends? vote corinne for polycules. vote corinne for pepperoni. for EMF. for tumblr user @mynqzo’s AU. and above all vote corinne for feminism. 

Corinne is the daughter of D’Artagnan from the original book by Dumas. She wants to follow in her father’s footsteps and become a musketeer, but oh no it’s the antagonist Period-Typical Misogyny. She ends up working for the palace anyway, as a maid, where she meets three other girls with her same dream and a badass old lady who trains them. The training montages are fun! They save the prince’s life a few times, uncover the plot to murder him at a masked ball they shouldn’t be attending in the first place, save his life one final time, defeat the other Big Bad of the movie (the prince’s evil cousin, but I guess they defeat sexism too), and then he promotes them to the royal guard. It’s just a good movie, one of my favorites from the Barbie franchise, honestly amazing soundtrack, jokes that land, the musketeers are all very gay for each other, and OF COURSE I have to talk more about the icon herself, Corinne. What can I say? She’s strong, stubborn, determined, hot-blooded, sticks to her principles, and has not one but TWO animal sidekicks: her cat, Miette, and her horse, Alexander. Yeah, she’s a horsegirl. She’s a country bumpkin in the big city (Paris). Her working class rizz pulls the prince (who literally doesn’t deserve her, Corinne x Renée forever, Louis you will die by my sword). She taunts the antagonist while he’s dangling from a rooftop (in the smuggest voice possible: “still believe a girl doesn’t possess the proper skills?”) she doesn’t even try to save his life lol. He does survive because it’s a movie for kids but no thanks to her. The film concludes with Corinne riding into the sunset with her gal pals, swords drawn, leaving the prince behind. 

For Youmu Konpaku:

Two swords. Therefore twice the awesomeness. She is half-ghost, which is cool. Also she so has a crush on Yuyuko.

Uhhh she's sick as fuccckk

[triangularitydubs]

Loser Baby| The Amazing Digital Circus Edition

[JAX]

So things look bad, and your back’s against the wall

Your whole mentality seems its going

You’re feelin’ stupid as a VR

RPG

Can’t face the world all glum and joyless

You’ve lost your way, you think your life is wrecked

Well, let me just say you’re correct

[POMNI, spoken]

Wait, what?

[JAX]

You’re a loser, Pomni

A loser, my dear Pomni

You’re a spineless little tiny [#$@%]

[POMNI, spoken]

HEY!

[JAX]

You’re a loser, just like me

[POMNI, spoken]

Gee thanks.

[Sans]

You’re a screws-loose jester

And a hopeless beta tester

You’re a mess that might just abstract

But you got company

[POMNI, spoken]

Is this supposed to make me

FEEL BETTER?!

[JAX]

There was a time I thought that no one could relate

To the tiresome ways the circus can be.

But getting trapped digitally sometimes set you straight!

We’re all stuck inside this game with adventure.

[POMNI]

I'm in a world full where

I lost my own physique

[JAX]

Heh! And you think that makes you unique?

Get outta here, pal

We’re both losers, Pomni

We’re losers, it’s okay to have some

[POMNI]

Thoughts of existential dread?

[JAX]

Wow, that got pretty deep!

[POMNI]

I’m a loser, Jax my

life isn't as bad, not over

So at least I know I’m not alone

[JAX]

You’re a loser

[POMNI & JAX]

Just like me

[JAX]

I got an appetite for prankin'

[POMNI]

I got an appetite for chasing every exit I can find

[JAX]

Go ahead buddy, sing that song, come on!

[POMNI]

I’m super f@%@%@, cuz I cannot get a grip

[JAX]

I have been told that I

have an ad-lib

[Jax and ]

We're stuck here now until

Forever

[Jax]

You’re a loser, and so crazy

[POMNI]

A loser, but just maybe if we

[JAX & POMNI]

Keep moving forward, things will end up differently

[Jax]

It’s time to choose to be carefree

Improve yourself, its still you Pomni

Don't worry now or you'll

Just abstract!

[JAX AND POMNI]

Be a loser, just like me

[masquayla-the-splendid]

The previous render I made had me realize that the only other instance of an animatronic flickering their eye/lights from the side of a dark room is the Ennard scoot. If Ballora's music box was playing, that would've sold it.

(It does when the power goes out in SL Custom Night, but no eyes to stare at you, or complete black out.)

This made me think. Gee, what else is a fnaf 1 exclusive thing?

Door lights. This is what Fnaf 6 was missing. Perhaps in a more Fnaf 4 fashion, but I wanna see them just stare like this again.

A game over screen where you see what happens to you. (Yeah I guess fnaf 2 as well)

Foxy running down the hall, or any pre rendered animation on the cams before a jumpscare. (Thank you, VR 2 SL "custom" night)

Posters changing. (The only thing Fnaf 2 changes is a paper pal, iirc)

Conclusion: Out of every installment, Fnaf 1 feels the most haunted. Then from there it's 2, 3, SL, 6, 4. I'm judging it based on environmental factors, not the grounded->sci-fi line. 4 is dead last because it's more of a fever dream than say a haunted building. 6 is in front of it ONLY because of the salvage part.

[zirawrites]

How would companions react to getting pulled into an alley on their way home by a Mr Handy? (The Mr Handy has surprising strength!)

They think it’s like a surprise attack and they’re about to die but the Mr Handy swiftly gives them either a Haircut (Beautiful hair) or a shave (growing a beard) or a tune up, and it comes out really well!

Cait: The Mr. Handy barely kept Cait still as she kicked and clawed from its grasp. Even when the robot showed her a mirror to admire her haircut, she still took a hard swing at its metal body, narrowly missing it (and breaking her hand). When Cait caught her reflection, she watched her cheeks burn red. She looked... pretty. "Never fuckn' do that again, robot." Cait spat beside it. "I don't care if you make me look like a damn pre-war supermodel. I'll bust yer face in."

Codsworth: "Why, I never!" Codsworth didn't struggle much. He hoped to persuade the Mr. Handy to unhand him before it came to violence. Then Codsworth realized it had given him a tune up. "Oh, I see what you did there. Thank you, good sir! It's nice to see some kindness still in the Commonwealth."

Curie: The haircut was over before Curie could even scold the Mr. Handy. When it held up a mirror, Curie primped her hair and smiled kindly. "Thank you, little robot. But please, do not do that again. I could have harmed you in my struggle."

Danse: "Unhand me, robot!" Danse threw the Mr. Handy off before it could style his new haircut. Even when it showed him a mirror, Danse shoved its mechanical hand away. "Where is your human? Who do you belong to? They need to be aware of your unsanctioned actions against military personale." It was only when he returned to the Prydwyn did Danse notice the Mr. Handy gave him a wonderful haircut. He felt a little bad about his rudeness.

Deacon: "Where are we going, buddy?" Deacon held still when the Mr. Handy pulled out a razor, unsure if the robot was malfunctioning and dangerous. Then the Mr. Handy gave him a wonderful shave, which he had been sorely needing after a mission. Deacon hated when his ginger stubble ruined a disguise. "Gee, thanks, pal." He rubbed his smooth face and smiled. "So do I tip you in motor oil or something?"

MacCready: "Knock it off!" MacCready swatted at the Mr. Handy as it took his hat off and clipped the sides of his hair. Before MacCready could finally pull away, the Mr. Handy showed him a mirror. "Well, I'll be damned. I'm lookin' pretty good." He ran a hand through the new hairstyle and smiled. "You're alright, robot."

Preston: "Oh boy." Preston let the Mr. Handy fix his stubble, but only because he felt like jerking away while it had a razor to his neck was a bad idea. Preston was glad he was patient. The Mr. Handy had given him the closet shave of his life. "Would you like to come back to the Castle with me? If you don't belong to somebody, that is. There are a lot of other Minutemen who'd really appreciate your magic touch."

Piper: Piper got in a few good smacks against the Mr. Handy before it finished her haircut. She didn't appreciate being pulled into an alley. When it showed her the new hairstyle, she paused briefly to admire the layers it had expertly created to frame her face, then crossed her arms. "That was real stupid of you. One of us could have gotten hurt." Piper assumed it was malfunctioning. She was just grateful it used its scissors to style her hair and not anything more violent.

X6-88: The Mr. Handy barely shaved X6's face before the courser threw it against the wall. "I'm the only robot who gets to groom me."

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Lies that Bind

Raw Knowles: we've got a real banger of a story for you tonight April Yates: real banger Knowles: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, we call this the tale of the disaster lesbians Yates: real disasters, these two Yates: possibly the biggest

Knowles: so there's these two lesbians who run a fake seance scam Edward Lee: bro i don't care about any fake seance scam Lee: i just have one question Knowles: ah yes to answer your question, yes they do Yates: A LOT Lee: Lee: bro

Knowles: so these lesbians, let me tell you Knowles: you know lesbian bed death? Lee: yeah Knowles: imagine the opposite of that Lee: Lee: bro Yates: that's what I'm talkin' about!

Knowles: unfortunately these lesbians are having issues in the bedroom Yates: communication issues Knowles: cuz you know women Yates: they just can't ever sit down and talk things out like rational adults

Knowles: and then this mysterious woman comes into their lives Yates: a mysterious woman with a shady past and a hidden agenda Yates: and an irresistibly magnetic sexual power Patricia Highsmith: oh yeah there ain't nothin' like a dame!

Knowles: this mysterious woman claims to be friends w a man who can help the one lesbian with her terrible secret Yates: and that man is aleister crowley Crowley: Yeah! that's me! Crowley: THE GREAT BEAST! Crowley: DO AS THOU WILT! Lee: bro, sit down, i wanna hear about lesbians

Knowles: the women are helpless in the thrall of this predatory lesbian Highsmith: oh that's a shame, that's a real shame Highsmith: you're a real high class dame, ya know Knowles: i Knowles: oh um thank you Highsmith: you're a real swell lady too, real swell Yates: haha oh you

Highsmith: now i wouldn't wanna get between you two ladies Highsmith: not in the emotional sense, that is Highsmith: if you get my drift Knowles: tee hee Yates: ha ha Lee: bro! we were gonna hear about lesbians- Highsmith: back off, Lee, i'm workin' here!

Highsmith: so just what sorta things might these two, uh, fictional ladies you're talkin about be hypothetically into? Knowles: oh you know Knowles: bondage, choking Yates: breathplay, bloodplay, knifeplay Highsmith: uh huh uh huh gotcha Highsmith: and what's your safeword?

Crowley: hey when are we gonna get to the part about me? Crowley: everyone should be asking 'when's the great beast gonna show up?' Highsmith: hey, pal, just cool it on down Highsmith: let the ladies get a little attention, eh? Crowley: Crowley: [sulking] i want attention too

Barker: what's that, aleister? you say you'd like some attention too? Barker: gee i never would have guessed Barker: from that gigantic flaming eye pyramid hat you're wearing Crowley: it's Crowley: It's a cool hat!! Barker: hm it's a little try hard Poe: it kinda is

[cherryfennec]

do you perhaps have a script for the Dimentio making L act nice comic? (I suck at reading cursive >_<)

Sure thing, don't worry! Here:

Panel 1:

*Mimi and Nastasia chatter*

Panel 2:

D: Guess who.

Panel 3:

M: SIGH What do you want now?

D: I just wanted to say 'hello'! Is that so wrong?

M: for you out of all people yes-

D: In any case, say... Have you perchance seen our dear Mr.L?

Panel 4:

M: No, but he-

N: Mimi.

I've known you long enough to have a basic idea of what's going on. You're planning something, aren't you?

Panel 5:

D: Oh no,no,no! I wouldn't dare.

Panel 6:

D: I just wanted to be certain that he kept his promise.

N: ...Promise?

Panel 7:

M: Since when does he promise YOU stuff?

D: See, recently I've made a peculiar bet that he just couldn't pass up on! And it so happens that I won! Isn't that wonderful?~

M: I find that hard to believe.

D: I'm nothing but simply stating the truth!

Panel 8:

N: And the condition was...?

D: Piqued your curiosity, haven't I, hm?~ If you need to know the details just ask our mutual friend. I'm sure he'll be more than willing to tell you. And speaking of the devil...

Panel 9:

D: There you are! We've been looking for you.

L: ...

D: Care to kindly join us?

Panel 10:

L: Gee golly! Thanks for the offer pal! Say, did anyone tell you that you look fabulous today? If not, I still hope that you're doing FANTASTIC! Keep up the good work! <3

Panel 11:

D: My! What a great attitude!

M: *stunned glass break*

N: What the-

Panel 12:

BONUS

M: WHAT WAS THAT?!!

Mr.L on his knees: That frilly bastard told me to "act nice" for an entire week... My poor pride...

M: AND THAT'S YOUR BEST ATTEMPT???

D: Ahahahaha!

N: You will NOT pull this stunt in front of the Count. Do I make myself CLEAR?

L: Y-yes ma'am...

[ask-the-stchoir]

Oh em gee I forgor it was your birthday Richard!

One two three one two three one two three four! This is the new song we sing for birthdays, bouncy and merry and not quite as scary the new birthday song!

I wanted to send the photo the news papers posted of you at ur 17th birthday party but I couldn't find it 😞

Anyway how does it feel knowing 1992 was 18 years ago buddy ole pal? (Laughs to self like in those cringey alpha male TikTok videos)

🌌THANK YOUU‼️‼️ and i feel like i am slowly entering adulthood, yes

[hazbinextgeneration]

Housed Hearts Ch8 REALTORS And Roses

(Hey everyone. I just wanted to thank everyone who read this far and liked my story enough to read it to it's end. I had a lot of fun writing it and it makes me happy knowing some people loved it enough to read it fully. If you liked this consider checking out my other works. Thanks to everyone for reading this, faving it, or leaving a nice comment. And thank you to Mortisfox for creating such wonderful characters and giving me the opportunity to make this wonderful story. Art is by me.

Warning: Mentioning of Rose Losing her eye by having it clawed out, mentioning of Maison being beaten, and Rose's scars.)

The walk all the way back to Maison's main body was tense and stressful with Rose looking over her shoulder every five minutes and increasing her pace every time. Thankfully she was able to get him back before anything bad could happen to him. Thank goodness. The first thing she did was bring him into her home and look him over. He wasn't too bad actually thank gosh. So she cleaned up the sap from his face and carried him back to his main body. If he was to heal the damage to his lure then he needed a long rest. A phonecall was made to Ivy right after, and the next morning she called Ivy again and shoved her phone in Maison's face making him retell her everything and what those people looked like. But Maison soon found out that wasn't the end of Rose's forceful help. She returned later the same day. Didn't even bother to knock. She just opened up his front door with a frown on her face and stared at his still slightly damaged lure limply hanging from the ceiling lamp made of flesh. It was enough to startle him away however.

"Ms. Willow! What are you doing just barging in like this?," his voice echoed throughout the home. "Don't you know it's rude to not knock before entering?!"

Rose answered by just chucking a giant box of food into his house. Fruits bounced around as a few slabs of meat like pork chops and a few hotdogs thudded along with them. "There's your food!" She sounded angry and annoyed at him as she pointed at his limp lure. "You're gonna be out of commission for a while. Y'know why? BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T LISTEN TO ME THAT'S WHY!! So you're going to stay home and heal until this entire thing blows over! I might be in trouble because of you and I have another problem because Heim heard what happened and he's coming over to check on me! So now I have to worry about him out there too! So just digest your food and quite playing with it!" With that she slammed her door shut before he could respond.

HEIM?! THAT BROKEN DOWN SHED COMING HERE?! TO VISIT HER?!

"Dear Rose, please wait!"He was quick to reanimated his lure and wobble after her on sore legs. He winced. Yep. This thing would be sore for a while. The door was quickly yanked back open and he limped out. "ROSE?!" 

UPON hearing her name, the red head stopped and turned around to look back at him with a frown just as a certain someone came waddling down the street towards her too. Bristling, he quickly limped his lure down the driveway and towards her as she rose a brow unimpressed. 

"Heya pal!" She turned to a huffing and puffing man as he waddled to stop in front of her and wheezed. "Man. I might be getting outta shape."He then smiled at her. "Hey Rose! I came to see how you were!"

She sighed. "I told you not to. I said I was fine. It's Maison that's banged up."

In question Heim turned to look at the limping lure and winced hissing through his teeth. "Golly gee pal. You do look banged up. Did they make off with anything?"

"Oh..Close your yapping front door!," Maison indignantly hissed as a hand rubbed at the tatters of his coat. Those would take the longest to heal back.

Heim however looked back to Rose as she rolled her eye, tilted his head, and then looked horrified. "R-Rose." She turned back to him in question as he nervously pointed at her face. "Bud..What happened to your face there?" Rose paused. "Are ya hurt? D-Do ya want me to call an ambulance?"

There was another moment of silence before Rose sighed. "No. A hospital wouldn't do me any good. I've been living without an eye for years."

Both men stared stunned by that revelation. "....Rose?" 

She turned to Maison. And the two just stood there staring at one another. Maison hesitated before holding up a hand to her face. Rose made absolutely no move to stop him as his hand slowly reached over and gently pulled back her silky red bangs from her face. What they were met with startled them into stunned silence. Three long but very thin scars ran across Rose's skin and over her closed eyelid ending partially on her cheek. An incident long since past but etched forever into her skin. For a moment no one said anything until one of them asked.

"...How?"

She only smiled sadly. "It happened when I was a little girl. I was playing in the backyard and ran into something that didn't like me too much." Her hand reached up to rub over the forever closed eyelid. "I have no idea what it was but I've been living with this for a while.  Don't worry. It doesn't hurt but sometimes it's hard to see things coming from that side. .... It's a reason I don't like anyone hurt.'' She then pushed on Maison's chest making him blink. "So you rest up and heal." She then turned to Heim. "And I want you to go home immediately and stay there until this entire thing blows over. I'll talk to you both about it once everything's safer and calms down."

They didn't look so convinced especially Maison but Heim nodded. "Alright pal. If that'll really make ya happy. I wouldn't mind a break anyways."

Maison huffed not one to be outdone so easily. "Agreed. But only on the condition that this conversation is continued later. There's more to discuss."

With a nod Rose nodded and smiled widely. "Deal. For now let's all just rest for a long while."

[junkpile-of-eterna]

Note above Caelus: checking guide

Clockie: Tick Tock! Hey, how's it going? Your pal Clockie is here!

Caelus (thinking): Hmm, that's right... Clockie said that only people with the kindness, innocence, and honesty of a child can see him... Aventurine won't know that he's there.

Clockie: Oh! And hi again, Mr. Peacock! Snazzy hat you have there!

Aventurine: Oh, haha, you flatter me. I must say, I quite like your bowtie as well!

Clockie: Golly gee! Thanks!

Caelus: WHAT?!?!?!

Someone is clearly lying here.