#i get to SIT DOWN and NOT DO MANUAL LABOR and NOT CLEAN TOILETS and im gonna get a LIVING WAGE

[godgavemenoname]

GUESS FUCKING WHAT

[aceie-desire]

Hello again! Lemme get a writing request in too while I'm at it, hehe. :3 You got any househusband octotrio headcanons? I'm always starving for some seafood.

Househusband Octotrio Drabble Headcanon Thingies

✎ Characters: Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech

☁︎ Fluffy

⚠︎ Warnings: Slight suggestiveness in Jades part.

☆ Notes: I sat and stared at this for an hour before I could start writing. writers block kinda sucks ngl, but i did try my best!! so i hope you enjoy lol

! Word Count: 650ish

Azul

He hates to just sit around, especially when he thinks there’s more to do. He loves to keep busy, he always has to be doing something.

It doesn’t all have to be manual labor though, he might spend hours looking up recipes that he’d think you’d enjoy, or taking extra classes, like a cooking or spend some time peacefully gardening.

He likes to pack your lunch every morning, and he’ll always add a lot bit of your favorite snack to give you a boost of energy to get through the day

He’s always overworking himself, and ignoring his needs. Like rest.

“Ah, y/n, you’re home early. What a surprise…”

“Are you okay Azul, you look like you’re drenched in sweat- Are you coming down with a fever…?”

“No I feel fine,” He reassured you.

“You’ve been overworking yourself too much then.”

“I have not. I’ve just been doing what needs to be done.” He scolded, trying to prove a point.

“Come on, I’ll cook dinner today, it’s your turn to rest.”

“But you’ve been at work all day- It’s fine really-!”

“And you’ve been cleaning all day, it’s your turn to take a break.”

“Thank you y/n… I appreciate it.” He sighed with a smile, knowing that arguing was futile.

Jade

An absolute clean freak, but in a chaotic way. You’ve never seen anyone scrub a toilet with so much energy and effort but with such a stoic yet smiley face.

He might leave things out a bit if he gets preoccupied with something else, like he’ll leave the faucet on for hours while he’s vacuuming, or he’ll leave out a carton of milked cause he remember that he needed to clean the windows.

But he likes to work by himself, you’ll offer to help but he can be stubborn when he wants to, so you cave, and right after you tell him that the sink is on fire, for the 3rd time that week. It was a Tuesday.

He loves to welcome you home from work with kind gestures, like preparing a surprise picnic, or giving you a massage if you mention that you’re sore.

“Ah… Please be gentle, Jade.”

“Of course, y/n…”

“Uggh…Not so hard!”

“I apologize it’s hard to contain myself when you’re… like this.”

“Jade! It- it hurts! But it feels so good.”

“I know y/n, trust in me.”

“Nngh…Azul was right, you really do give great shoulder massages.”

And poor Grimm was outside your door wanting to ask you something, traumatized. Ngl, situations like that happen quite frequently.

Floyd

Your shelved are filled with random things he finds at markets or thrift stores. Including a very creepy doll that you swear you saw blink.

But Floyd calls it his treasure so you just shrug and let him continue his collection. He is a bit of a hoarder though and you need to help him sort through a bunch of things.

You try the pile method but he ends up putting everything in the maybe it the keep pile. You get absolutely no where.

He hates being bored but he won’t do a lot of extra work, so he’ll go out and find more things, like little nicknacks that he says reminds him of you. …Like a cartoon squirrel easy-bake-oven. You decide to take it in stride.

He also breaks things quite a bit, he tries to fix them for the most part, but sometimes he just gives up and will put broken dishes back in the cabinets.

“Why are all of our dishes broken..?”

“They’re not broken, now we have dinner ware for 57 more little shrimpies!”

“…When are we inviting 57 shrimp over dinner?”

“Next Wednesday, do you not check the calendar? We put it up for a reason.”

“…My bad..?”

requests are open!!

[stardust-walker]

High Hopes

word count: 3979

Chapters: 1

A week went by in the blink of an eye. It felt like it had dragged on at the same time. The group they were with was larger than Dove had expected it to be. There were about 40 of them, give or take a few. Dove hated it. Sure, some of the people were nice but some of them were people that she generally tried to avoid when not somewhere like where she worked...or used to work, rather. Still, it wasn't that she minded the people they were around at all as long as they contributed and minded their business.

She was used to seeing people like Merle Dixon, methed out of their minds and in for a 72 hour psych eval, strolling out the door after they had kicked it out of their system only to come back a few weeks later most times. Dove was sure she actually had seen Merle like that before but she wasn't about to mention that to him.

"How's your cheek feeling," Carol broke the silence as the two of them walked down to the water, each of them carrying a load of laundry in their arms.

"It's fine. Just stings a little when I touch it is all," Dove cleared her throat. She'd been trying not to think about how the bruise was probably fading, most likely an ugly yellow color by now. "I could ask you the same thing." She hadn't meant it to come out as mean as it did but she noticed the older woman almost flinch at the harshness of her words. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have said that." Dove shook her head and gripped the load of laundry she was holding a little tighter.

Carol held her head a up a little higher as she fell into step next to the younger woman. "You're right. You shouldn't have." Dove didn't know what to say. There was probably nothing she could say, after all. She'd made the decision on her own to set up her tent a short distance away from her sister and brother-in-law. If she'd been closer, it definitely would have caused a scene if it were more accessible for her to run to her sister's aid. It had happened before and it would probably happen again.

"Listen, I'm sorry. I guess I'm just a little..."

"Tense. We all are." Carol shook her head as they stepped through the trees into the small clearing where a small group of other women sat, all doing the same thing they were about to do.

"This is just fucking prehistoric," Dove snorted and shook her head. They had talked about this when more people started filtering in. They definitely had to be careful about other people coming into camp. Some of them could be dangerous. Uncertain times meant that people might come a little more unhinged than they might normally. Most of the other women seemed alright, for the most part. Jacqui was kind, definitely opinionated and observant. Amy and her sister Andrea kept mostly to themselves but seemed pretty nice for the most part. Carol seemed to have really clicked with Lori and Dove found herself not minding the other woman. She'd heard bits and pieces about her husband, Rick, and it made her heart break for Lori and Carl.

Dove had kept her distance from most of the men. Dale seemed pretty nosey, especially when it came to matters like the bruise on her face when he'd first shown up to the camp with Amy and Andrea. Shane had taken over as leader right away. No one seemed to want to question a cop's authority even in what might be the end of the world. Glenn was sweet; she was pretty sure he'd delivered her a pizza a few times when she was late night cramming for college but she didn't want to ask. Even though she didn't want to be around Merle, or his brother by extension, she didn't mind them coming around in the group. They were contributing to feeding the group, after all. Dove was pretty sure they were holding out on some of their hunt, but could she really blame them? Ed had almost lost his mind over Carol offering Lori some of his food on the highway.

In spite of their faults, the Dixons had actually managed to enlighten the people around the campfire on the first night they'd joined them. "Shoot em. Right in the damn head. One of them comes at you, you take the fucking shot. Ain't nobody there anymore." The tone of the younger Dixon had actually made Dove shudder. He was dead serious, there was no doubt about that. Then Merle had called him a fucking buzzkill.

It wasn't hard to notice their sibling dynamic wasn't exactly the healthiest. Maybe her relationship with Carol wasn't the healthiest either. She was a therapist, not a god. "Time to put the mask on," Dove mumbled, causing Carol to let out a quiet laugh as Amy turned and waved at them.

"Hey guys! We thought you were about to ditch out on laundry duty," Amy beamed at them.

"And miss out on some quiet time? Wouldn't miss it for the world," Carol replied brightly as she walked up and sat her and Ed's basket of laundry between her and Jacqui. Damn, she's good at this.

"I mean, I wish it was more like sitting in a laundry mat relaxing instead of manual labor, but I can't complain. I'd rather be doing this than sitting up there debating about what's more important to grab on a run to the city." Dove rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner and Jacqui laughed.

"Were they arguing about what's more important, toilet paper or batteries for the flashlights again?" Jacqui raised an eyebrow and Dove nodded.

"Please, tell me you'll talk some sense into these men on the run if they ever let anyone else go. I mean hell, grab both. I'd say they're both priorities. The campfire is nice every night but once it gets dark? Hell, it's like we walked into fucking Deliverance territory out here." Dove finished by whistling a part of 'Dueling Banjos'. Carol swatted at her with one of her shirts as she went to dip it in the water.

"You stop that." Carol shook her head in an attempt to seem disapproving, but she let out a quiet laugh. Andrea and Amy were laughing next to Dove.

"You think this was what people did when they had to wash clothes together before washing machines and stuff," Amy broke the silence a few minutes later.

Dove wiped the back of her hand across her forehead and moved her hair out of her field of vision. "You mean sweat to death?"

"Give themselves back problems?" Jacqui added before she nodded at the other women. "Probably."

"Probably complained about their husbands too," Andrea added with a subtle look towards Carol. Dove straightened up, ready to say something to the other woman about minding her business when a branch cracked in the woods behind them.

Everyone straightened up at this and Dove reached for the knife she had set next to her basket of laundry on reflex. She overextended herself, not realizing how far it was from her in her panicked state and fell to her knees, fingers closed around the handle of the knife as two figures stepped out from the trees.

Jacqui let out an annoyed sounding sigh as she lowered her own weapon, not bothering to hide the fact she rolled her eyes. Andrea scowled at the two men as Amy attempted to look composed even though Dove was sure she'd heard her panic too.

Carol looked the most shaken up of all of them and Dove couldn't blame her for that. It was what her home had created for her. Instant panic at the thought of the person stepping into their conversation being Ed.

Dove stood up slowly, throwing her knife back into the dirt as she brushed her knees off. "Jesus Christ, Merle. You're lucky none of us had a gun. Would've blown your head off," She grumbled as she turned her back to the older man, heart still racing at the potential of one of those walkers coming out of the woods at them.

"Oh do you think one of you would have, Birdie?" Merle didn't bother to hide his amusement. Dove turned slightly and flipped him off.

"Leave us alone, Merle. Can't you see we're workin' here?"

"Dove..." Carol tugged at her arm and Dove relented, picking up another shirt as she sat half turned towards the woods now.

"Well, shit. We just came to tell you lovely ladies that we hunted squirrel for dinner later. But if you're gonna be ungrateful about it then, shit."

Andrea frowned. Amy tried her best to hide the fact that she was disgusted at the fact that they were having to eat 'little woodland creatures' again. Dove had heard her complaining about it a few nights ago.

"Not being ungrateful, Merle. Just prefer you call me by my name is all," Dove rolled her eyes.

"Oh I'll call your name..." Merle was for sure going to say something that would make Dove want to go for her knife again when Jacqui cut him off.

"Will you be skinning them then? We'll cook them, so long as you do that." Dove shot Jacqui a quick look, trying to convey some kind of thank you without any words.

"I'll do it," a different voice spoke and the two set of sisters turned back to the hunters.

Dove raised an eyebrow slightly. They'd all barely heard Daryl speak since the first night when they were talking about walkers and Chupacabras. He seemed to let Merle do all the talking; or maybe Merle let himself do all the talking.

" Thank you," Carol nodded at him and turned back to the laundry. Ed would be mad if they were gone too long like they were last time.

"Yeah, thanks Daryl." Dove said as the two brothers turned to march back off towards their own campsite. Merle kept walking, the others kept washing their laundry, but Dove didn't miss the fact that Daryl turned slightly and nodded at her in recognition.

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

Dove was always good at keeping herself busy The only way she kept track of days was after she happened to find her planner in her bag as she was looking for clean clothes. That was how she came to realize that three weeks had passed so quickly. How had they been out here for a month at this point? She couldn't imagine how bored the kids around the camp felt and that was when she decided how she would spend the rest of her evening.

Dove sat in one of the folding chairs with a look of concentration on her face. Dark eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed as she glanced up and then back down at her hands again. "Got it," she said so suddenly that Sophia jumped a little in the chair across from her. Carl leaned forward in anticipation as a smug smile appeared on Dove's face. "Got any eights?" She sounded so sure of herself.

"Hm...go fish!" Sophia said brightly after a few seconds.

"Ah hell," Dove grumbled. She didn't miss the sideways look that Carol shot her when she swore. "Alright, Carl. Don't let me down, buddy."

The little boy shrugged, a smile on his face. "Go fish."

"Ah, double hell," Dove almost shouted, much to the amusement of her niece and the little boy.

"Children, that's enough of that," Dale chuckled as he walked past them towards the campfire, "besides I think dinner's ready anyways."

Before Dove could say anything else, the two children jumped to their feet. Sophia following close behind Carl as the two of them ran off to join their mothers near the fire. "Fine! Y'all were a bunch of cheaters anyway," Dove called jokingly after the children and she heard Glenn let out a laugh.

"How can someone cheat at go fish?" Glenn inquired as Dove strolled over behind Dale, who was shaking his head at the younger woman.

"Well, Glenn," Dove sighed as she sat down next to the Asian man, "You can have an eight in your hand and not give it to someone when they call it. Ain't that a good example, Carl?" She turned to look at the boy and waved a finger at him disapprovingly.

Lori ruffled Carl's hair as Glenn let out a quiet laugh. Dale shook his head as he started passing around one of the paper plates that was piled up with meat. "Well, it should be reassuring that fish isn't on the menu for tonight," the older man said which caused Amy to giggle.

"It smells good," Sophia piped up from the spot on Dove's left as the plate got passed to her. Dove shared a look with Carol before her gaze shifted up slightly. Ed didn't eat with the group, but still he lurked there like an albatross around her sister's neck. Carol forced a smile as she handed a piece of the currently unidentified meat to the little girl before passing it on.

It was actually peaceful that night as everyone sat around the fire. It was clear to Dove that most of the men, Shane and the Dixons especially, seemed to still be on high alert. However, the quiet was welcome.

"Ya know, I gotta say. This is probably the best thing I've eaten in almost a month," Shane chuckled as he moved to run a hand through his hair. The group nodded in agreement, a few mumbled 'Thank you's being uttered as everyone gradually finished up their meals.

"Yeah, rabbit is a little more tender than squirrel," Merle Dixon announced loudly as he threw a small bone into the fire.

Sophia let out a little squeak from next to Dove and the dark haired woman moved to put an arm around her niece as Carol brushed Sophia's hair back. "No, no, Soph. I'm sure Merle's just joking." Dove shot a dark look across the fire at the older man. She momentarily thought about jumping over the fire and punching him right in the mouth. The thought would have to be enough for her for today, though. Ed mumbled something from behind Carol, but she was grateful that her sister seemed to ignore it.

"A very mean joke, but I'm sure he's joking," Carol whispered as she pressed a kiss to her young daughter's forehead.

Dove still rubbed the little girl's arm in a comforting manner, her gaze shifted to the other man across the fire from her. Daryl looked miserable as ever but she locked eyes for a split second before he stared back into the fire.

"Yeah, Sophia, I'm sure he just cooked up Daryl's Chupacabra," Morales smirked from beside his wife. The laughter wasn't so quiet now as almost everyone around the fire struggled for a moment to hold in their laughter before Merle let out a loud, obnoxious laugh. Knee slap right along with it.

"You hear that, baby brother? You'd know all about that Mexican goat sucker, wouldn't you," Merle shoved Daryl's arm roughly.

Sophia shifted uncomfortably in her mother's arms, but a small smile was on her face. Lori rolled her eyes disapprovingly. "Are we really going to bring that up again? You gave the kids nightmares with that story..."

"Mom," Carl hissed through gritted teeth, "I didn't have nightmares, I swear." There were scattered chuckles around the fire this time. Shane reached over and ruffled the young boys hair, though this only caused the scowl to deepen on Carl's face.

"Yeah, I don't know why y'all try to make fun of that story, either. There's a lot scarier things out there than a Chupacabra," Dove announced to the fire. She couldn't stop the smirk that crept onto her face when most of the attention shifted to her.

"Dove's right. The walkers..." Amy frowned and leaned closer to her older sister.

Dove shook her head quickly, a hand ran through her dark hair. "Nah, I don't mean the walkers. I mean the wendigos," she stated matter-of-factly, "which, hell, might mean the walkers for all we know."

Ed snorted from behind her, "You sure you were workin' in that psych ward and not a patient there? I mean, you were not around enough to be in the loony bin," Ed kicked at the dirt by his feet. 

Dove sneered at her brother-in-law, "You know what..."

"Yeah I thought you were a psych doctor, not a psycho doctor," Merle snickered as he leaned forward in his chair.

"You know what, to you too, Merle Dixon," Dove turned again, a finger pointed at the older man. "I wouldn't make fun of things that you don't have knowledge of! The mind is a powerful thing. Chupacabras might not have been real once, but they might as well be now. There were these monks who practiced this super deep thought...meditation shit, you know? People said that if they focused hard enough on something in their heads, they could make it real. I mean that's the basics of it, but if enough people believed in it, they could make it real." Dove noticed now that most of the attention was shifting from her to Merle. Daryl, however, seemed to have finally moved his focus from the fire right to her.

"Sounds like psycho bullshit to me," Merle leaned back in the folding chair he was sat on, arms folded across his chest.

"Call it psycho bullshit all you want," Dove shrugged her shoulders, "but wendigos seem pretty damn real to me right about now." After a few moments of silence, it was Carl who spoke up.

"What's a wendigo," the quiet little voice spoke up from where he was perched at his mother's feet. Carol narrowed her eyes at her sister, their eyes locked for a moment before Dove looked away. There was movement next to her as Carol stood up, taking Sophia with her. "Thanks for the food. Night. C'mon, Sophia," Carol's voice was quiet as she placed a hand on Dove's shoulder for a moment before moving to usher the young girl off to bed. Dove thought she heard Sophia say something in protest but she didn't come back to the fire.

Dove cleared her throat and shook her head. "Well, Carl. I'll tell you." Dove looked at her feet for a moment before she turned her attention to the little boy, a reassuring smile on her face. She was going to tell this story now, even if just to spite Merle Dixon and Ed Peletier. "You see, back in the olden days, they used to tell stories to people in order to keep them from doing bad things." That was probably the easiest way to explain that to people, especially with children present. "There were these people called the Algonquians," Dove started.

"This is some of that featherhead bullshit. I should've known," Merle snarked.

"No one's making you listen, son," Dale said in a tone that was probably meant to be warning.

"If you don't want to hear the story, why don't you just wander off back to your tent and hope the Chupacabra doesn't get you," Jacqui piped up from the right side of Dale.

"Go on, Sawyer. I wanna hear the rest of it," a quiet voice spoke up. Maybe it was the fact that Jim, who barely spoke, actually said something to her that made her want to continue.

Dove narrowed her eyes slightly, "Anyways, yes they were a Native American tribe. Someplaces in Canada too, I think. There was this story about this trapper from Alberta, I think his name was...Swift something. His family was starving and one of his kids ended up dead."

"What happened to them," Andrea questioned.

"Well...by the time they found them, the guy had killed and ate the rest of his family that was still alive." There were murmured comments of disgust and horror from around the fire. Carl stared up at his mom with wide eyes for a moment before trying to seem like he had some composure. "But mostly, wendigos are seen as these supernatural beings. Cannibals. It was something they used to keep people from eating each other when they were starving in the winter. Legend said that whenever someone resorted to cannibalism, they would never be full again. They would just keep eating and eating. Never stopping. Constantly searching for new victims." Dove finished with a sinister tone.

"Well shit," Merle uttered from across the fire.

"And you know what their favorite food was?" Dove continued in a quiet tone, eyes flicking quickly from one person around the fire to another. "They especially liked to eat....little boys!" She almost shouted as she jumped slightly in Carl's direction.

Laughter echoed around the campfire, Lori shook her head as she tried to suppress a laugh. Carl was trying to look like he hadn't clung to Shane's arm for a split second, a nervous laugh escaped his lips.

"Nah, I'm just joking. What they really have a taste for is bald rednecks," Dove smirked as she reached over to ruffle Carl's hair. She thought she saw a smile for a split second across Daryl's face before Merle flipped her off.

Dove was tempted to say something else, but the smug look stayed on her face as Shane cleared his throat. "As much as I love campfire story time," Shane gave Dove a look that caused her to simply shrug her shoulders, "I think we should all be getting to bed. Especially the little ones."

"Sure thing, Deputy D-" Merle began.

 Andrea cut him off by jumping up from her seat. "Right well, night everyone."

Everyone said their goodnights as they began to trickle off to their respective tents. Merle and Daryl were some of the first ones to leave, not surprising anyone.

"Nighty night, Merle. Don't let the walkers bite," Dove called to the retreating backs of the hunters.

Lori shoved her shoulder slightly as she laughed quietly, "God, you're bad."

"Ah he can take it," Dove shrugged her shoulders.

"Night, Lori." Dove turned on her heel after a few minutes of helping clean up around the fire and started off towards her own tent. As she ducked into the tent, she hoped that sleep would come easier tonight. All she could do was listen to the quiet arguments from the tent closest to hers. She waited for a moment and, just like the past few nights, her tent unzipped.

"Dovey, are you sleepin'?" Sophia's voice, groggy and half asleep sounding, came from the flap of the tent.

"Not yet, bug. C'mon. You can stay with me again," she moved around in an attempt to make room in her sleeping bag for her niece.

Sophia shuffled over and once they were all settled, she yawned "Can you tell me a nice story to help me sleep?"

Dove flinched as she heard Ed shout something from a little farther away, followed by an unsettling quiet. "I sure can. You want me to make up one about Princess Sophia?" Dove tried to hide the stress in her voice. Her hands shook as she stroked her niece's hair.

Sophia nodded slightly, probably already starting to nod off in the safety of another tent. "Alright, there once was a beautiful princess named Sophia. She lived in a big castle in the mountains with her mommy and her auntie where everyone was always happy and she got to eat cupcakes whenever she wanted...." Dove continued the story until Sophia nodded off, the story made little sense by that point as Dove allowed herself to finally fall into a restful sleep.

__

@crossbowking​

[allthephils]

Autofocus

Word count: 2140

Rated T for language 

It’s just a fluffy little first meeting story in an au where Dan works at an amusement park photo kiosk and Phil likes to ride roller coasters.

Read on AO3

Written for @phanfichallenge​  photography challenge

Hate is a strong word. Dan doesn’t hate his job, not exactly. He knows it could be worse. He could be cleaning toilets or scraping food off of dishes. He knows that people do real manual labor, dangerous labor, for less money than he’s making to mostly sit on his ass. It’s just that he hates wearing this stupid green polo shirt and he hates going outside during the day. And he really hates dealing with cargo short clad vacation dads that look just like the guys that tried to shove Dan into his locker every day of his high school career. The only difference is these guys are balding and have beer guts and come with tiny little monstrous versions of themselves.

Luckily, poor customer service is a skill that Dan has carefully honed to near perfection. In most cases, he can complete an entire transaction without looking up from his phone. There is one perk to working here though, tit patrol. Tit patrol is the creative title the crew uses to refer to the person who sits at a computer and watches as newly taken photos page by, looking for obscene gestures, exposed arses, and of course tits. These photos get sent to a folder for deletion before they can slip by and show up on the big screen at the back of the kiosk. It’s a coveted position, though the show is far from tantalizing. Quick flashes of all kinds of flesh are more awkward than arousing and they’re interspersed with hundreds of terrified faces and awful shots of vomit flying. Dan loves being on tit patrol because, well because its hilarious, and because it means he doesn’t have to talk to people.

His shift started at 11 AM. Dan walked in at 11:10, iced coffee in hand. He pulled his hideous green polo shirt out and shoved his bag into his cubby. Everyday, he grumbles that he should be aloud to wear black since the kiosk sells photos of riders on a roller coaster called the Vampire. Everyday, his coworkers roll their eyes and ignore him. With his official employee shirt on, collar popped, sleeves rolled up, black t-shirt peeking out at the neck, he took his place behind the counter and began scrolling through Tumblr. It was mostly families with little kids before noon which meant this particular kiosk was dead. The Vampire is way too fast and way too scary for little kids.

The first customer of Dan’s day slides his ticket across the counter. In his usual way, Dan punches the number into his keyboard and the photo appears on both his screen and the one facing the customer.

“Oh wow. So much for my ultra masculine reputation.” The customer giggles a bit, looking at the photo of himself, hand thrown over his eyes, mouth open in a scream of fear, as the coaster sped downhill through a dark and foreboding cave.

Dan looks briefly at the photo and says, “5x7 for £10, or two for 20.”

The customer just stares at Dan who hasn’t so much as glanced at him. “One for 10 or two for twenty? Wait, but that’s not…”

Dan huffs and repeats himself, “5x7 for £10, or two for 20.”

“Okay,” the customer says, resigned, “I’ll take one please. I’ll put it up on my bathroom mirror to keep me humble.”

Dan just sort of grunts as he hits print. He slides the photo into an envelope and hands it over.

His voice is utterly devoid of joy as he issues the standard closing. “Thank you for riding the Vampire, we hope you had a bloody good time.”

A surprised laugh bubbles from the customer as he walks away.

As they move into afternoon, business picks up and a line forms. Dan is on autopilot. Take the ticket, enter the numbers, take the money, print the photo. Take the ticket, enter the numbers, “5x7 for £10, or two for 20.”

“Thought I’d stick with the theme, since I’m clearly a scaredy cat. Get it, scaredy cat?” Dan knows that voice. It’s the customer from earlier. “I’ll pass on the photo though, thanks.”

Dan looks to his screen. This time the man’s face isn’t covered by his hands and it’s a good face. He wears a big smile and his tongue pokes through his front teeth just the smallest bit. He had drawn on a black cat’s nose and whiskers but they don’t hide how strangely good looking he is. Even on this cut rate monitor screen, his eyes look impossibly blue. It’s all framed by a perfect black fringe, not much different than Dan’s own hair. It occurs to Dan that he could be looking right into those eyes and he snaps his gaze to look up at the customer. All he catches is two seriously long legs and a very cute booty walking away in black skinny jeans.

Dan pouts. He never gets to talk to hot boys and now he’d let one slip away. His eyes fall back to the photo on the screen and he sighs.

“Hey, are you working here or what?” Dan curls his lip in disgust at the sharp contrast between the obnoxious American dad in front of him and the ethereal being he saw on the screen. Ok, maybe ethereal is a bit much, but he seems funny and nice and he’s so pretty.

Dan mopes until he’s minutes away from his lunch break. His last customer hands him their ticket and Dan gasps when the photo appears. It’s him! His scaredy cat! The whiskers are gone. His eyes are squeezed shut, his mouth curled into a proud grin. He holds a small stuffed toy lion aloft, à la Circle of Life. Dan laughs, something he doesn’t do very often at work and the customer in front of him laughs with him.

“That boy.” Such a sweet, maternal tone. “I’ll take two copies please.” Her accent is decidedly northern, even more so than the scaredy cat’s had been. This must be his mum. He’s here with his family. So much for tracking him down and snogging him in the employee locker room. Dan carefully tucks the photos into an envelope and hands them to the nice woman.

He flashes his most parent pleasing smile. “Thank you for riding the Vampire. We hope you had a bloody good time!” He actually sounds sincere.

“Oh! Oh dear.” The woman laughs and shakes her head.

“Pardon the language miss.”

“Miss? Young man, I’m likely older than your mother! And believe me these ears have heard far worse than that!” She laughs with Dan and gives him a £20 note. “Phil is going to be tickled pink when he sees how these turned out. You have a lovely day!”

Dan waves as she walks away, standing up to try and catch a glimpse of who she might be headed toward. It’s no use, the crowds are too dense. Phil though, his name is Phil. Dan eats his amusement park pizza outside in the hot sun in the hopes that Phil might walk by but it doesn’t happen. He’s probably gone home. He’d been Dan’s first customer of the day after all. And who in their right mind rides a rickety old Vampire themed rollercoaster three times in one day? Dan daydreams blue eyes and goofy smirks till his half hour was up.

After lunch, he’s on tit patrol so Dan plops down in the back of the kiosk with a giant slushee, trigger finger hovering over the F9 key. The system only gives you a few seconds to make a judgement and send the offender packing before the photo goes up on the big screen for the whole world to see. Any distraction could mean 4 seconds of scandal, angry parents and angrier middle management. More than once, Dan had let a notification on his phone take his attention and had let a middle finger slip by. Not today though, today his eyes are glued to the screen, hoping Phil will ride one more time. He’d see the photo go by and trade with one of the guys at the front and this time, he’d talk to him. He wouldn’t be too edgy to notice and he wouldn’t chicken out.

There were two bras flashed, one simulated blow job, and a whole coaster car full of naked bums, but no Phil. His two hours of tit patrol are up and he reluctantly relinquishes his post. Back on the front lines, he falls into his pattern and soon his shift is nearly up. When he finds himself without a customer in front of him for the first time in an hour, Dan sits up, stretching and rolling his neck. As if put there by the hand of fate, Phil walks past the kiosk. He’s chatting excitedly with a man that looks a lot like him and a gorgeous woman with fiery hair. His parents trail behind, holding hands.

Just as the group gets far enough away that Dan would look like a psycho for running after them or calling Phil’s name, Phil turns and looks right at Dan. He doesn’t stop, he just turns in place like a model on a catwalk. He doesn’t smile, just catches Dan’s eyes with own and goes on his way. Dan swallows and groans out loud, letting his head thunk down on the the counter.

Accustomed to Dan’s flair for the dramatic, his co-workers chuckle and ignore him. Dan pulls off his ugly green polo and begins to gather his stuff to go home. 

“Shit! Shit.” Dan’s co-worker, Jack was on tit patrol and it sounds like he let something by. “Personal info. Fuck. Oh well. Who holds up their phone number on a roller coaster? It’s not even like a proposal or whatever.”

The big screen fills Dan’s vision and he bolts upright. “Oh my god! Oh my god!”

Dan is jumping around and shouting to the disapproving looks of dozens of tourists and he couldn’t care less. Phil looks out at him from the big screen, a smirk better than the one Dan had imagined on his lips. He holds a sign that says, I hope you’re paying attention. And underneath that, a phone number.

Jack says, “Oh hello, he’s hot” and holds up his phone to capture the image. Another co-worker, Ellie, picks up a pen and starts to scribble down the number.

“Don’t you dare.” Dan snarls at Jack, pointing a finger menacingly. Jack lowers his phone and puts his hands up in surrender. Dan walks to Ellie and snatches the number from her hand.

She frowns, “How do you know it’s for you? It could be for any of us!”

“Oh, it’s for me.” Dan grins, his dimples digging in deep, “HE is for me.” He turns up his nose and spins on his heel for the most theatrical exit he can muster, then walks out of the kiosk to a chorus of giggles and grumbles.

Once he’s out of the park, he sits down on a bench at the edge of the parking lot and enters the number into his phone. He types in the name, Phil, bouncing in his seat like a giddy child after too much cotton candy. His hands shake as he types out a message, praying to no one that he hadn’t read that look wrong.

Hi Phil, It’s Dan from the Kiosk.

He hits send, his knee bouncing with nerves and as he’s returning the phone to his pocket, it vibrates.

Dan? You’re the one with the green hair, right?

Is he kidding? He must be kidding. He didn’t even talk to Jack. Another vibration. Dan holds his breath.

Dan? I’m kidding, of course! What follows is a string of emojis, a dinosaur, a warthog, some fireworks, and a cry laughing emoji. I know who you are. You’re the one with the chocolatey eyes and incredible dimples. Nice to meet you, Dan.

Dan exhales and a flutter moves through his belly, up past his heart, and down to his fingertips. Phil laid it on thick and it was working.

Nice to meet you too, Phil.

So Dan, I’ve got a pretty wild Friday night planned.

 Oh yeah? Dan replies.

 Yeah, it includes pizza, Ribena, and…

 Dan breathes a laugh to himself and types, drumroll...

 JURASSIC PARK!!!

 Gasp! Pizza and Jeff Goldblum?!!  I don’t know Phil, sounds intense. You’re easily frightened. You sure you can handle it?

 Maybe if I had someone here to help me through it, someone strong and brave. You know anyone like that?

 Yeah, but I think Jack’s busy tonight. Dan typed but stood and began his walk to the bus stop. He wasn’t wasting any more time.

 I guess you’ll have to do then, Dan.

END

[tartaricing]

Doctarded: Act 5 - Cleaning It Up

Doc enters a long and somewhat funny road to redemption. It was definitely a large project all and all but I was glad I was able to step out of my comfort zone and create some content that I usually don't create. I hope all of you enjoy it and leave any comments!

Doc emerged from the office, swallowing thickly. He was no longer in his scrubs and lab coat, but in a pair of overalls and a sweater with the sleeves rolled up. With a heavy sigh, he went to the cafeteria.

Tachanka, Lion, and Blitz were already in the kitchen. Tachanka was hauling government beef while Lion and Blitz were cleaning stoves. Lion stopped to see Doc, who was already with a mop and bucket.

"And here is the man of the hour!" Lion sarcastically raised his arms for a hug, only to hug himself and walk away.

"Now you will taste the life of a common man!" Blitz sneered, kicking the bucket away from Doc.

"Very mature, Elias. Oliver," Doc turned to both of them, deadpan, "Let's get this done like adults, shall we?" Blitz and Lion burst out in laughter as Doc started to clean the floor.

However, cleaning the floor when everyone's pissed at you was no easy feat. Blitz and Lion proceeded to play soccer with the rolling bucket. Doc swiftly recaptured it, but it wasn't for long.

After many conflicts with the bucket and an eventual spillover, Doc was able to mop the whole kitchen. He wiped his brow and whistled low in a prayer for an easier task, but Tachanka presented him an entire bag of frozen hamburger beef patties.

"You make hamburger. I clean tables," Tachanka dropped it on his hands as he casually walked over to the cafeteria tables. He sat down on a table and called Finka. Doc grunted in frustration, taking the nutrition primer and reading the directions on making a hamburger. He put the bag down on the counter to let the patties thaw, then he heated up the grill and squirted on some liquid butter alternative. While waiting, he turned to Lion and Blitz and asked:

"Can you men please help me with the burgers?"

"Why?" Bandit raised his hands up in indifference, "You helped yourself to my boyfriend."

"Adultery is a sin, you know," Lion added, "I'll get the lettuce."

"Don't be so petty. We're having hamburgers tonight," Doc sighed, "I thought you liked hamburgers."

"We do," Blitz corrected him, "We just don't want to help."

"Bah, we've no choice to help our fellow brother here," Lion corrected the German, "Get the onions, mon ami." Blitz growled and took out the onions and madly chopped them.

"Where's Mute and Bandit anyway?" Doc asked, opening the bag of hamburgers.

"They're bathroom duty. Mute's done though so he'll be here," Blitz answered through tears. With Doc grilling the hamburgers, Lion and Blitz put together the vegetables. Mute came in heated the buns on Doc's grill, occasionally pushing a patty. Bandit came in next, setting up the stations. People started to file into the cafeteria, causing a long line to snake around the room. Tachanka came first though.

"You sat and talked to Finka while we did everything else. Why are you first?" Doc was flabbergasted at the large Russian's audacity to cut in line.

"Doesn't matter, give me burger," Tachanka spat his answer, "Double cheese, no vegetables!" Doc rolled his eyes as he assembled the burger and set it on the rack. The other man took it wordlessly. Dinner went on silently between the six until everyone was served. When truly done, Doc dispersed to his own table, eating a burger with all the vegetables.

"Doc!" Someone called out to him.

"What grievance do you have this time?" Doc muttered between bites.

The voice approached him, revealing the owner to be Montagne. Montagne was smiling this time, a rare sight since the trial.

"Gilles?" Doc swallowed a large bite of his burger.

"Holy shit, that burger was good!" Montagne squealed, "It had nothing but the basics, but mon dieu that tasted so good. I didn't know you could cook!"

"Well grilling beef patties according to a nutrition primer isn't all that hard…" His eyes shifted sideways.

"Well I'm glad you could make so many, because I had seconds! I was even considering a third," Montagne laughed.

"…I'm glad you enjoyed them. At least I didn't fuck it up. But seriously two are enough."

"Don't take my word for it, everyone else liked them too!"

Doc put away his trash to see Blitz glaring angrily at him. IQ just criticized his onions and praised Doc's patties. He chuckled nervously as he went back into the kitchen to clean the place up.

Bouncing between kitchen duty, bathroom duty, and his medical duties, Gustave was run ragged. He couldn't indulge in his most private desires nor could act like a complete degenerate to anyone or anything. The medic that was sent to watch him was a man with a doctorate in Psychology, which made it harder to shrug off any of his issues.

"Gustave, you can't, again reconcile with someone without sexualizing them," The medic sighed, "They will be uncomfortable."

"But I'm not, Mercutio!" Doc countered him, hopping into his overalls, "Rook isn't my boyfriend, but my best friend."

"When a best friend sexualizes another, it is creepy," Mercutio added, "Situation be damned!"

"Well I feel like shit now," Doc yelled over the curtains, "Be right back, I've been called to clean the bathroom."

"Enjoy! Manual labor is indeed a cleansing experience!"

"…You wouldn't say that after the stuff I've cleaned…"

Blitz shoved the bin of supplies wordlessly to Doc. He glared at him, sulking. "Just because you haven't fucked anything up doesn't mean you're free in my book. I took the women's wing. I don't want any rape in my team, you creepy fuck. It's going to take a lot more to convince me. Get the fuck out of my sight." He walked away with his own bin of supplies.

Doc frowned in shame but pushed the bin into the men's communal restroom and went to work. He was well-aware of how disgusting a human can be, but this experience redefined it. Clogged toilets, smeared feces, clogged sinks… He knew humans as a collective were absolutely disgusting now. He started with putting Lysol on the sink and squeegeeing the mirrors. He then wiped the stalls with a dilute bleach solution and cleaned the toilets. He did this stall by stall, realizing how nice manual labor was for him. It was purposeful, productive, and it kept his mind busy. Mercutio had a point.

What broke him out of his trance was a familiar voice in another stall. It was a panicked voice. "Is… anyone in there? Hello?"

"Gustave here, cleaning the bathrooms, like the piece of shit I am," Doc called out, lazily wiping the stall.

"Oh… Hi Gus," The voice slowed down, now warm with the mention of his name.

"…Julien?" Doc's wiping came to a stop, "What's going on?"

"…I broke it off with Blitz," Rook's voice started to break, "I love him, but with what I did with you…"

"No, I should apologize," Doc started, suppressing his emotion, "I was being selfish and creepy. I wasn't thinking rationally. I used you when I shouldn't have, Julien."

"But you didn't use me, Gus. I usually prevent these things."

"Don't be such an apologist, Julien!" Doc punched the stall, "I abused your trust and I'm incredibly sorry. I've fucked up so much and I don't want to lose you. You're one of my best friends and that's why I couldn't face you these past few days. Why didn't you even throw me off when I kissed you?"

"Because…" Rook's voice trailed off for a moment, digging into his conscience, "I don't want to lose you either. I felt not only your stress when you kissed me, but your latent feelings. Yes, I'm aware of the shit you've done, but at the same time, you're still my best friend too. Yet I think what I feel for you is beyond that… I won't deny you're a silver fox, though. I just felt uncomfortable being with Blitz after that. He's a great man with plenty of wisdom and fun but he deserves better."

"No, you deserve better."

"But I want you. That's why I was willing to let you use my body. That's why I don't consider myself used…"

"Julien-"

"Not in the traditional way of course. You do and go through so much for us, it's amazing. I can't comprehend what you've seen and done. You just don't… stop. You keep going and going and going, and that's what's killing you, Gustave. Blitz is like that too, willing to forgo sleep just to fix his shield. It's admirable. I put up with cheating with you because I thought it would make you stop. I thought if I the body you oh-so like on the line, it would make you understand the importance of resting."

"…I guess you were able to put yourself together the way Mercutio put me together. Well done."

"I'm a hypocrite. I should've gone to Mercutio for this shit," Rook scoffed at himself, "I just downplay it because you made me feel good, plain and simple."

"What the fuck are we even now, Julien?"

"We're still best friends, right?" Doc was now sitting on a closed toilet.

"Yes."

"What are you going to do with Blitz, me, and everyone else?"

"Well, I'll let Blitz find whoever but I'm still going to be a friend to everyone. It's like how you're still generous after dealing with our crap. Sorry to say, though, I'm in no fucking shape for a relationship after this shitshow."

"Me too. I guess we're two birds of a feather, huh?"

"Yeah," Rook chuckled, voice filled with mirth, "I've missed you, Gus."

"I missed you Julien."

The weeks have come and gone, with Doc on his last two days of house arrest. People have slowly warmed up to Doc again. Doc and Rook had started talking regularly again. Finka had let Doc know more about herself again. Smoke and Lesion had started to observe his orders more closely. The boy in the green hat sent him stationary and a bottle of Chianti. The SAS were even more respectful of him now.

Doc and Finka were in the laboratory working on Finka's nanomachines. They were recording dendrite lengths only to see her rapidly recording numbers.

"Slow down, Finka!" Doc gasped, "You usually don't write this fast, what's going on here?"

"I'm sorry Gustave, but I have to leave soon," Finka apologized as she recorded some more numbers.

"Why?"

"The UN consortium is in town and Tachanka and the others took it upon themselves to go," Finka spoke fast, "I told him not to, but he's still going to do it anyway."

"And what is wrong with that?" Doc was incredulous.

"The UN is planning to cut funding to the Spetznaz. Tachanka and the others set up a plan to appeal to them."

"What is wrong with Tachanka's plan?"

"They're planning to fake having Tourette's to appeal to them to not cut their funding!"

"That's dishonest!"

"That's why I told him not too, but he won't listen. Really, I have to go." Finka packed up her bag and ran out of the lab. A ball of disgust formed in the bottom of Doc's stomach. He followed Finka immediately after.

"What the hell are you doing?" Doc stopped in his tracks, seeing Six bracing herself in front of the door.

"I was going to help Lera, ma'am," Doc answered, saluting her.

"Unfortunately, you're still under house arrest. I cannot let you go outside. If you have to help her, you must do so from here."

"Six, ma'am, I want to speak with you about something. I want you to make an exception"

"Do tell…"

They went to Six's office, with Doc presenting his case to her.

"PRE-MEDIDTATED FRAUD?" Six bellowed in shock, eyes wide.

"Believe me, Lera gave me a throughout account of what the Spetznaz men are planning to do."

"But do you have evidence of this?" Six calmed herself down, "I want to a concrete reason to let you out."

"Indeed I have," Doc pulled out a USB stick and put it in her laptop. He opened a file. The sounds of the Spetznaz men yelling curse words, the explicit plans of fooling the UN, and Finka's protest was enough to convince her. "Only someone like me can tell they're frauds."

"GO, FUCKING GO!" Six screamed.

The Spetznaz men were teetering on the edge of the front row seats. The UN consortium was packed with the brim with CTU's from around the world. The judges were analyzing each CTU's appeal to not have their sweet, sweet funding taken away. Some were laughed off stage, some wept with them, some were immediately booed. Next to them were the Scotland Yard, which was only two people. One of them was a tall, string bean of an Irish man, with wild puffy dark hair. The other was a taller, broader man. He looked like Sledge but softer and had a dark auburn faux-hawk.

The Irish man whispered to Glaz, "Your leader looks like he's full of shit,"

"Language, O'Daly!" The Scottish man admonished him, "Also that's incredibly rude."

"Just saying what I feel, Kiernan, gosh!" O'Daly fired back, crossing his arms.

"Will the Spetznaz come up? Spetznaz?" The announcer droned on. Many repeated her, but in different languages. The Russian men got up and walked up to the stage from the back end.

"Remember what we rehearsed," Tachanka reminded them, "Let's give them a show. I love you all."

One of the judges, an old man in a suit and glasses, looked at the four men. His lips curled up in intrigue and asked, "You men are Spetznaz, yes?"

"Indeed we are, sir," Glaz replied, "Please listen to our plea. We still need funding."

"Can you please list the reasons that we need funding, sirs?"

Tachanka stepped forward, "I will, sir. Russia, despite its big economy- ASS LICKER!"

"Sir, this is not a game. If you're going to shout curses at us, please leave the stage."

"We are completely serious. I have Tourette's Syndrome. So do the rest of us- SHIT!" Tachanka continued, motioning towards a shaking and blubbering Fuze, "Still has heavy amounts of poverty in rural areas. This thins out- ASS! Our forces. While we do get plenty of funding from our home country, it's not enough-"

"TITTY SPRINKLES!" Kapkan had an outburst, seizing up on his shoulder, "Our weaponry and equipment are showing wear. They can only last so much against the snow. SHIT!"

"WASHCLOTH!" Fuze blubbered and shook his head, "While the Spetznaz is still for counter-terrorism, we decided to ramp up our efforts- HAMBURGERS! Towards peacetime. That means delivering care packages to those impoverished and war-torn and funding for survival supplies to us and civilians. SHIT!"

"Boop," Glaz made it soft but high-pitched and snapped his fingers. He was doing it consistently but no one really heard him after Fuze stopped talking.

"ASSHOLE!" Tachanka had another outburst, "In conclusion, to take away our funding is not only hindering the peacetime efforts of our country, but spitting on the face of the differently-abled that chose to serve their country. FISHSTICKS!"

"Mhmmm…." The old man mulled over his response, "Anything to champion to differently-abled and the efforts of those who bring peace. Perhaps we were wrong to underestimate the progressiveness of the Spetznaz…" He took a pen out and signed a few papers, "You keep your funding." The Russians gathered in a circle and cheered quietly amongst themselves. Just as they walked off the stage, the back door burst open.

"THEY ARE FAKING IT!"

The crowd gasped and whispered amongst themselves. The old man picked up his pen and fixed his glasses, and roared, "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?"

"I may not be part of the Spetznaz, but I am their medic," Doc descended down the stairs, towards the stage. His white lab coat was trailing behind him, but instead of scrubs underneath, he wore his GIGN armor, "I have never diagnosed any of them with Tourette's Syndrome."

"BULLSHIT!" Tachanka roared, "He is lying. I AM IN LOVE WITH RUSLANA! AT NIGHT I DREAM ABOUT KISSING RUSLANA-AAAAAAAH!" He hopped back, eyes wide, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Finka told me everything. None of you went to me about this and I can tell by looking you're just abusing the symptoms," Doc continued.

"That bitch!" Tachanka cursed, "KAPKAN AND I TOUCHED WIENERS. I mean, winter is a very cold time of year!" The crowd went from awestruck silence to speaking amongst themselves.

"Do you have any definitive proof of this, medic?" The old man asked.

"Don't mind if I do," Doc tossed a USB stick at the table, "The video should tell you it's all pre-meditated."

"Bylat!" Tachanka cursed once more, running off stage and out through the back door. The Spetznaz followed him. Doc followed them too.

The Russians ran through an alley and that's where Doc followed them to. They emerged to an Asda, where Thatcher and Sledge were shopping. "Bloody hell, I've never seen Russians going inside an Asda!" Thatcher spat. Sledge shrugged his shoulders.

They went from aisle to aisle, with Fuze accidentally bumping into Mute, who was enjoying his donuts. Mourning the fallen donuts, Mute took after Fuze. After sneaking around the store, the Spetznaz burst out and ran across the street. Doc and Mute ran after them. The next destination was an ice cream shop.

"Aizawa is best man and anyone who disagrees can suck my dick!" Hibana claimed over a scoop of butter pecan.

"No, Endeavor is best man!" Frost slammed the table and got into the other woman's face, jumping her scoop of Pumpkin Spice.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Present. Mic." Ying tersely ate her Neapolitan scoop.

"Ying, I'm glad you were able to find this ice cream shop but get out of here with that trash," Frost got into her face too.

Confused at the discussion, the men ran out of the shop. Doc secretly got a pint of Cheese ice cream. They then ran across the street once more, finding themselves in a Starbucks. The men realized they wanted some coffee so they waited in line and waited more for their drinks.

"Ever took a shit so good you sit on the toilet for a few minutes afterwards?" Valkyrie asked, clutching her Pumpkin Spice latte. Ash, Ela, and Zofia agreed elatedly over their Pumpkin Spice lattes.

The men shuddered in disgust and chugged down their coffees and went on their ways. So the Russians ran across the street again. Tachanka bumped into Kiernan, who was holding O'Daly on his shoulders. The men cursed loudly and pursued Tachanka. And so they went…

To the salon, where Fuze got a haircut…

To the bank…

To the pet store…

To Blick's, where everyone cursed at O'Daly, Kiernan, and Glaz for taking so long…

"Long time no see, Glaz," Kiernan held his copics up to him.

"Kiernan! O'Daly! My animating comrades!" Glaz hugged them both, covered in oil paints.

"Well, we still need a background painter," O'Daly greeted.

"Come on! Come on! Come on!" Tachanka shooed then out, continuing the chase. They set out on the street again, where Kapkan ran over Lion.

"Mon dieu!" Lion yelled as he brushed himself up, "Wanna get some coffee with me, mon Cheri?" Rook looked at him distastefully, arms crossed.

"Non." Rook tossed a cup of water at his face and walked away.

Their chase ended up in McDonald's, which was a few clicks near the base. Everyone ran past except Tachanka, who went up to the cashier and said, "I'll have two Number 9's, a Number 9 Large, a Number 6 with extra Dip, a Number 7, Two Number 45's, one with Cheese, and a large Soda." Just as he paid, the whole order was in a bag and he ran out with it. It now went back to base with them weaving in and out of various rooms.

"You trying to burn the place down, O'Daly?" Clash popped out to see the Irish and Scottish men running around the dormitories, "…And O'Daly wrangler, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Hi Morowa!" O'Daly greeted.

"Hi Morowa," Kiernan greeted, "We went to the UN consortium. We could've been in Team Rainbow with you, a pity."

"Scotland Yard needs you, Kiernan. O'Daly would burn everything if he doesn't have you," Clash agreed.

"Speaking of trouble, there you are!" He grabbed the collar of Tachanka's shirt and pulled him towards him and O'Daly, "Weren't you taught not to bump into people?"

"Cyka bylat!" Tachanka yelled, "That's my McDonald's!"

Mute shook his fist towards Fuze. Fuze gave Mute a number 9 and then they shook hands.

Six came into the room, livid, "Tachanka, Fuze, Kapkan, And Glaz! I saw what you did on CNN and you are all SUSPENDED!" She saw Kiernan holding Tachanka and O'Daly and let the former off his hands, "Thank you Kiernan, as good as you are, Scotland Yard wouldn't be same without you."

"No offense taken, ma'am," Kiernan replied, "Let's go home, O'Daly." The two left the base without a word. Two entered the base, debating while walking the dogs.

"So if you had to share a room between Doc and Tachanka, who would it be?" Buck asked, giving a dog a treat.

"I mean if I gotta choose between a closet pervert and a douchey con artist, I'd take Tachanka. At least he won't touch me at night," Echo answered.

"I respect Doc for what he does, but I'm glad I'm old, grouchy, and ugly. But I don't want Tachanka conning me either," Buck replied. Six yelled at the Russian men as she called in some helicopters to take them away. Everyone filed in to see the mess unfold, some even coming back from going out. The men scowled or hung their heads in shame as they left the compound. Six made a short statement but after that everyone still stayed. Doc pulled out a pint of cheese ice cream and gave it to Rook.

Doc then separated himself from the crowd, and then said, "You know, I learned something from these past few weeks. Yes, humanity is cruel and disgusting at times but at the same time humanity is amazing and progressive. No one is perfect, and this is big coming from me. Yet in all my years of service, you have to hit rock bottom to really learn how to a better human. Yes war is hell, but it doesn't excuse you from making the mistakes I or the Spetznaz made. And yes, we at Team Rainbow aren't perfect, but we can learn to make a better world for all."

"Yeah," Rook said, digging into his ice cream, "Speaking of trust you shouldn't start a relationship with someone just because they touch you down there."

[fahadkhan20]

8 Commercial Cleaning Tips And Tricks.

In this post, I am going to show you the 8 actionable commercial cleaning tips (That Work Great) by Clean Group. Keep reading.

Clean Group always loves sharing commercial cleaning tips and secrets that had helped us built this company and of course, clean better.

Clean Group has been in business for more than a decade and we take professional commercial cleaning services pretty seriously. We also want to teach you guys how to clean like a pro.

Over the years, we have researched, studied, and practiced. We have learned a lot from other people and of course, we have trained hundreds of people and taught them how to become professional commercial cleaners.

The 8 Most Important Commercial Cleaning Tips You Need to Know

In this blog, we will share with you our favorite pro commercial cleaning tips.

Tips 1. Cleaning From Top to Bottom

The first commercial cleaning tip is cleaning from top to bottom and from left to right. You will do this simultaneously. When we first started cleaning, we were going all over the place. With this practice, we were not able to do the cleaning done and we were spending so much more time and were forgetting things, it was kind of ludicrous.

When we learned about this top to bottom, left to the right business and we started to implement it, we really noticed a change. If you do not clean this way now, you should totally give it a try because it is really easy to do.

When we say clean top to bottom, the reason we suggest that is because dust and dirt fall from the top to the bottom.

When you are wiping something, obviously you will be going to have dirt falls from top to bottom.

In the kitchen, we make sure that the commercial cleaning checklist will show wiping the kitchen cupboard first before cleaning the counter. You will not like to clean the surface twice if you this the other way around.

When our professional cleaners attend to the office, we advise them to always clean and wipe the floor because we know that they will attend to the floor last.

Tips 2. Cleaning From Left to Right

Now when it comes to working your way from left to right or right to left, we ask our professional commercial cleaner to pick which direction do they want to do as long as they will be consistent with it.

Once you have this in place, you can rest assured that your cleaner will not miss a spot. We will know every corner, every section of the room is going to be cleaned because Clean Group professional commercial cleaners work in this consistent manner. With this, you can promise efficient and effective work for your customers.

Tips 3. Prepare All The Things That You Need Before You Clean

When we first started this commercial cleaning company, we regret to follow this information and we just proceeded to run back and forth from the custodial cabinet every time we forgot something that was needed for the cleaning.

Even if we have our best interests in mind to have the cleaning done as best and as fast as possible because we want to move on to the next client, it never really worked that way. We decided to implement a rule of thumb that all our professional cleaners need to bring all the possible tools and chemicals that they need to complete a certain task.

It is best to have a cleaning caddy and position the caddy in the middle of the room or surface that you are about to clean. This will ensure that you do not need to run back and forth. It is a big waste of time. It is always a good practice to time yourself and it made a big difference.

The next time that you are scheduled to clean a particular room, get all the products and tools that you need before you get to your cleaning.

Tips 4. Read Instructions and Manuals Before Cleaning

Before we started Clean Group, we had watched tons of cleaning commercials about cleaning products and tools. Pro-tip that you need to share with your professional commercial cleaner is to read the instructions or manuals before using a tool or cleaner.

Product efficacy depends on how long you let it dwell on the surface that you are cleaning. It needs to sit for some period of time. This has two main effects:

The first one is that the product will clean something and it needs time to do its work. You can’t just dump a cleaning solution to a surface and rinse it off right away expecting that it will show the result that you wanted. It needs to sit. Spray it on a surface, let it sit, the product will then be able to do its thing, then you can wipe it off and get the best result. The same principle applies to green cleaning chemicals.

The second reason why it is important for professional commercial cleaners to let the product dwell is these products have their own disinfectants. The product will need between 5 or 10 minutes to actually kill that bacteria. So once you are using the product, apply it, let it sit there for a few minutes, then wipe it off that way you are getting the clean that you want and the disinfecting that you need.

Tips 5. Start with the safest, most gentle product

Only work your way up only if you need to. This is especially prudent for professional cleaners with asthma or allergies. We find a lot of people who will just go and clean their toilet with whatever products they can grab or the most powerful product just to clean whatever it is that they meant to clean that they think is too dirty.

Offices are less dirty than how you think it is. Gentle products can often accomplish a lot of cleaning so you do not need such a strong product.

However, if you are in a situation where let us say you have a really greasy surface or rings on the toilet, in that case, you do want to use the stronger, more powerful product but in most cases, the gentle or environmental friendly chemicals that we talked about are really efficient and safe for you to use to get that cleaning done.

Tips 6. Eye-Level Test

When you have a commercial cleaning company, you will always have this defining moment where little things happened to you that will forever affect the future of the people that work for you. Implement the eye-level test.

That means crouching down to eye-level of the surface that you have just cleaned to have a glance at it and to see if there’s anything that pops out of you.

When we train our professional commercial cleaners, we always tell them that this is the eye-level test, I want you to go to your individual work and I want you to crouch down and have a look at it on an eye-level. When you come up and look at something straight down, you will not really see what is underneath.

Tips 7. The S Pattern

Commercial cleaning jobs today follow the S Pattern. This pattern is pretty famous in the world of commercial cleaning. The S pattern is really an interesting thing.

When we were not yet considered professional in this cleaning industry, we used to wipe in whatever motion that we please. We thought that that was how it was meant to be done.

When you clean a surface in a circular motion, you are literally wiping the dirt all over to the surface. Circular motion will guarantee marks and streaks and at the end of the day, you will require to work harder than you need to because you are not getting the results that you desire.

When you use the S pattern, you will start at the top right-hand corner of a surface, you will swipe all the way to the left and then zig-zag your way down.

It will change the way that you clean because you will get less to zero streaks with half the effort that you put in if you will do it in the wrong way. The next time you clean, instead of breaking up the soiled surface with a circular wiping motion, try the S pattern and watch how quickly and more effectively were you able to complete the task.

If you also need to dust a ceiling fan or light fixtures, ask your cleaning company to provide you with a bendable duster. These dusters are so helpful and so handy because they will let you do your dusting with a quick and easy way. They are also washing machine safe.

Also, rather than purchasing a lot of cleaning tool that sometimes does not work, simply take a mop pole and a sock, flip it inside and out and tie it with an elastic band, with this, you can begin removing the cobwebs that piled up from the edges of the room like you are using a microfibre cloth.

You can also use a flathead mop or a sweeper and take a microfibre cloth. You can use this to wipe your walls clean from marks and dust.

Just go in an up and down motion and dust the office wall in an easy, most inexpensive way. For exhaust fans, just see it is already covered in dust. Just take your regular vacuum machine, put on a brush attachment and vacuum your way to getting rid of dust and cobwebs from the exhaust fan.

A lot of people are also curious about how we keep the baseboards clean. This requires manual labor if you are the type of cleaner who does not want to stoop down and clean with your hands and microfiber rags, do the same thing that we did with the mop poles and sock. With this, you can just scrub your way to the baseboards.

Tips 8. Perpendicular Pattern

The last but not least, this thing that we will discuss is something that we learned from home study and experiences many years ago. When we used to clean at the beginning, we were not quite sure how to make things look tidy. Half of cleaning especially when you are cleaning professionally is making something look tidy.

Sometimes, even you had spent more than an hour cleaning removing dust, dirt, and bacteria, the place still looks like a mess if space is scattered. The perpendicular pattern is something that will make any surface looks super tidy, clean, and pleasing to the eye.

Not only you do have a clean surface, but you also have a tidy space which will make your place super clean. The first thing you need to do is pile your items.

Pile them up or line everything up to the edge of the surface that the item is sitting on either on a parallel fashion to the edge or a perpendicular fashion. In that way, you will have this nice, clean, straight angles which are very pleasing to the eye and it looks clean.

The best cleaning services in Montreal, Canada Click hear.

Credit by : https://www.clean-group.com.au/

[alpharoofingtexas-blog]

Job Site Cleanup

If you have ever visited a building or construction site, you recognize that these areas are typically suffering from dangerous metal debris which will cause flat tires or personal injury.  Job Site Cleanup Responsible construction firms pack up their worksite areas at the completion of employment , so on prevent costly tire repairs and reduce the liability risk that somebody could become injured.

Years ago, the cleanup process usually was a manual job, wherein each of the workers would scout the world , learning all visible material, before moving on to subsequent job. Not only was this method costly because it required tons of your time and labor, but it had been also very ineffective. Particularly in rough terrain or grassy areas, it's nearly impossible to identify every small piece of dangerous metal debris, and therefore the factor of human error is typically quite high Read More...

Today, many construction companies believe magnetic sweeper tools to form the cleanup process faster and easier. counting on the dimensions of the work , magnetic sweepers for construction site cleanup can make a 3 or 4 hour job into a 20 or 30 minute job. Furthermore, employing a magnet to cleanup metal debris is far simpler , because the magnet will devour even those pieces of metal which will not be readily visible from an individual's viewpoint .

Roofing companies frequently utilize magnetic sweepers for cleanup. Because roofers use tons of nails, many of which get dropped into the homeowner's grass below, it is vital that the roofing company do a really thorough cleanup job before they leave the worksite. A magnetic sweeper may be a tool mounted on an extended handle, very similar to a broom . At the bottom , magnetic strips devour any lost nails or other metal debris from the bottom . Some sweeper magnets feature wheels on all sides , in order that they will be easily rolled over the bottom .

Some sweeper magnets can also employ the addition of a rake-like attachment at the bottom , to select up any metal pieces that are buried within the grass. Hand operated sweeper magnets can home in size from as small as 10 or 12 inches wide, to as large as 36 inches wide. Many roofing companies will purchase multiple units in order that , at the top of the day, each worker takes one sweeper and goes over alittle area of the yard, making the cleanup process faster and easier for everybody . Nails and screws that are picked up can then be recycled and used subsequent day or at another job site.

For cleaning larger areas, like rubbish yards or parking lots, some firms will purchase large vehicle mounted magnetic sweepers. These units home in size from 48 inches to 72 inches wide, and may be suspended by chains from the front bumper of a vehicle. Some vehicle mounted sweeper magnets also can be hung from the forks of a skid loader, as well. These larger units are ideal for covering an outsized area during a short amount of your time . The important thing in touch in mind with any sweeper magnet is that if it's moved over the bottom too quickly, it'll not be as effective at learning magnetic debris. Most magnetic sweepers, particularly vehicle mounted ones, have maximum operating speeds that ought to be closely followed.

For construction firms, not much has changed within the last 50 years with reference to the necessity to cleanup a piece site after employment is completed. But when it involves the methods and tools utilized in the cleanup process, tons has changed. the utilization of magnetic tools like sweeper magnets has revolutionized our ability to clear a neighborhood of dangerous metal debris during a way that's far more efficient and effective than the manual methods of years past.

Normally when preparing a toilet for floor tiling, you'll usually find instances where caulking has been applied as a water-proof sealant, especially around such areas because the bath tub. to get rid of this you'll simply use a flat head screwdriver or blunt chisel and scrape away at the caulking, otherwise your floor tiles might not sit properly thanks to the hangout of the caulking.

Related Link :

https://insulationinstitute.org/im-a-homeowner/about-insulation/how-much-do-i-need/ https://www.alpharoofingtexas.com/services/chimney-repair/

If some hard scraping is important , don't be concerned an excessive amount of about applying extra force which could end in scraping the bathtub . Bath tubs are fairly durable and their composition is formed to require some abuse, and if you are doing happen to scratch the surface when removing caulking, then this will easily be hidden by the ground tile level when it involves laying tiles.

With solid concrete floors as your subfloor, small bumps and raises of concrete will need to be removed also to make sure A level floor when floor tile laying. this will easily be through with the utilization of a chilly chisel and hammer to chip away at at these excessive bumps, but always make certain to wear protective eyewear when doing so. If you fail to get rid of any of those concrete 'nubbins', then you'll find yourself with an enormous headache when trying to get your floor tiles flat and level.

Any large bumps of residual concrete also can be quickly removed by use of the angle grinder with concrete diamond cutting blade attached. By simply grinding away at the bumps, this will be a quick and effective way of bringing them right down to level. Again, make certain to wear your safety equipment as always when working with power tools, but as another precaution you ought to also wear a dust mask when working indoors with dry concrete cutting or grinding.

Related Topic :

Roof Repair Commercial Roofing Sealing Repair Flat Roof Replacement Gutter Installation Wind Inspection Maintenance Plan Metal Fabrication Metal Roof Installation Roof Moss Removal Experts Residential Roofing Instructional Videos for Roof Installations Skylight Installation Standing Seam Metal Roofing

[twxntrash]

First chapter and an introductory chapter to the new story I’m working on. It’s just the first draft so most is likely to be changed if/when I reach the final draft.

Also, this worlds currency since it’s brought up in this chapter; 100 silver = 1 US dollar.

Look, being a mage isn’t easy, take it from me.

It can be hard; it can be stressful. Most of the time you’re only source of income are the job requests you take, and the pay varies, from just barely enough to pay rent to enough that your rent is covered for the next three months from that one job. Not to mention how dangerous some of these jobs are.

It’s even worse when you’re a freelance mage. Again, take it from me. You’re not affiliated with any legal guild, so the Ministry, the government officials in charge of the mage community, don’t fully recognize you as a full-fledged mage. Even more, your work options are limited as the bulk of jobs and requests are sent to guildhalls. The best you can do is hope to find a flyer at an inn or help wanted board in town that might pay enough to get you through the week.

Then you gotta factor in the age of it all. People tend to look for older, more experienced mages when it comes from freelancers, because they feel like they can put more trust that the job get done, and get done right, while the younger ones are always given the look of suspicion, like we’re just doing it for the laughs and won’t take the job seriously.

The life of a freelance mage is not an easy life.

But, hey, it’s my life. I could have just as easily stayed home, never cross the ocean to leave my island for Aykor. But I chose to, because I wanted this life. Sure, I may not have wanted to be a freelance mage per se, I would have rather entered a Guild, but none of my applications got accepted, so, here I am. Could be better, could be worse. I was content enough with it most days, and wasn’t that what mattered?

My name is Nell Eldr. I have shoulder length light coppery-blonde hair, green eyes and I love long walks on the beach.

Okay, that’s not entirely true. The sea and me don’t mix, so if I can avoid those walks on the beach I’m all the happier for it.

But, getting back on point, I’m a mage. To be more precise, I’m a fire mage.

Yeah, I know. I’m a fire mage and my last name is Eldr. It’s like saying I’m Miss. Fire and my magic is fire. Redundant. But, hey, I didn’t choose the surname, my papa’s just not the best at coming up names, I mean, look at how he chose my first name—actually no, let’s save that story for another time.

I’ve been in the kingdom of Aykor for about six months now. When I left my island home, I first traveled south to the Torrin Empire in search of work and stayed there for a few months. I moved south from there to visit a few of the City-States of the Dunes. It was… not a friendly place and not wanting to wake up with a knife in my ribs, I’d chosen to sail north and here I was. Aykor.

It was still hard to believe it had been roughly two years in total since I’d left my home. I was already sixteen. But, that was also a big reason why it was so hard for me to find work.

I was a sixteen-year-old freelance mage.

Not a lot of respect coming my way, and since I didn’t have some guild to vouch for my abilities, I got a lot of rejections when it came to work.

At least when it came to magic. I got a decent amount of labor jobs that didn’t require magic. But the downfall of that was most of it was just the jobs no one else wanted. The real bottom of the barrel kind of work.

But, work was work. So long as it put food in my stomach and a roof over my head, there wasn’t any use complaining. I just had to keep giving it my best each day, keep applying to guilds when I could. Then one day I could very well graduate from being a freelancer and become a guild mage.

I’d recently managed to find work in Verm. It was one of the port towns. Not all that big, but had enough people to open up some job opportunities.

I had managed to snag a job helping one of the farms outside of the city. They had a tractor accident and were short a few hands. I took the opportunity as soon as I saw the flyer. It helped that I had plenty of experience with planting and farming from my time back home. We didn’t have markets or any of the technological advances that the mainland did, so I was used to this kind of manual labor.

Work was from sun up all the way to sun high, aka noon.  It was backbreaking, and the farms were so much bigger than what the family back home had. But, it was nice to go back to something I was familiar with than having me cleaning toilets.

 But the work was done and I’d be coming back to my temporary lodgings with my pay of seven thousand silver. Sure, it wasn’t really a lot, but it was a good pay for six hours of hard labor.

Atop my head was a small weight. Snoozing on the top of my head was my best friend, my little buddy Flare. I’ve known him for about eight years and he’s been by my side ever since. Of course, walking around towns with a black salamander perched on my head tends to get a few odd looks, but, it’s not like he’s hurting anything.

“Hey there, buddy,” I whispered as I felt the amphibian stirring. Tiny hands patted against my head as Flare got up and looked around, “Works over, we’re heading back to the inn,” I told him. All I got was a few pats.

I kept walking without falter as Flare moved down from my head to my shoulder, resting beside the strap to my rucksack. He always rode on my shoulder if he wasn’t napping away on my head. So I usually didn’t mind.

Maybe I could earn a little more money tonight as a dishwasher. Then, if I had enough, I could head out of town tomorrow morning and head to the next one.

My stomach growled as I walked and I glanced up over to Flare, “How about we get a bite to eat?” I asked him, as though he could respond to me in turn. I’d certainly worked up an appetite after working hard in the fields. I’m sure my wallet wouldn’t hate me too much if I spent a few silvers on a meal.

Hopefully I could find something real spicy. The spicier the better. Hell, I’d eat just the peppers themselves if I could. If not, I’d just drown whatever I did have in hot sauce.

Yeah, I had a strange pallet for foods. I’ve just chalked it up to it being that I have fire for magic.

Not getting any argument from Flare, I changed my course of direction. I could rest at the inn after I get myself some lunch. Thankfully, there were plenty of small diners and restaurants I could choose from. It was just a matter of finding the least crowded or loud one.

It took as long as I had expected to find someplace to sit down and eat. Meaning, not long at all. Of course, there was some time added to the search when the first two refused to let me in because of my ‘pet’. I would have them know that Flare is not a pet! He is my partner and friend, but not a pet!

I of course, kept my mouth shut. No good would come from blowing up at the local business owners. But, I did find a cozy little place to sit down at eat. It was hidden in a back alley, so it wasn’t easy to find, but, it had a nice air to it and not a whole lot of people. An elderly couple sat by the window, a young woman sat alone by the restrooms. A pair of dudes the back wall and a group of friends by the door. I took myself a seat in one of the booths along the wall and watched as Flare climbed down my arm to rest on the table.

I’d have to find him some grub after I ate. Maybe I could go to the park and dig up some worms for him.

I ordered a simple hot chocolate from the middle aged man running the counter, and then picked up the menu to give it a looky.

Not a whole lot of variety, it was clear that coffee was the main product of this shop, coffee and curry. I’d have to say it had been a while since I’d had curry, not since I was in Torrin, so maybe I’d give it a try. It’d be nice if this place could make it as good as the pros.

As my drink was brought over in a large mug and a sizable amount of whipped cream on top, I folded the menu up and placed it on its holder by the edge of the table before giving the man my order. It’d be a few minutes before it would be out so as he left, I reclined in my seat.

I was glad the owner didn’t even bat an eye at seeing Flare, he’d probably seen a lot of weird things by this point.

I took one of the brown napkins from its dispenser and placed it on the table for the salamander. Flare wasted no time pawing at it and nibbling at the paper. I could never understand why, but my little buddy loved playing with paper of any kind. So it was easy to keep him entertained with that, and it was entertaining for me to watch him.

Smiling, I reclined in the cushioned booth seat and decided to look around at the other customers.

The elderly pair were smiling over their coffees, talking in quiet voices. I couldn’t make out the words, but they seemed happy enough. For the single woman at the table by the restrooms, my eyes were drawn to her hair. The brown strands were braided and tied in such a way that it reminded me of the Skadian women. She must have taken inspiration from them for the style. She was quiet as she got up and excused herself to the restroom.

The group of girls were giggling, perhaps too loudly as they crowded over a magazine. I could hear them loud and clear as they gossiped about the latest hot model or the newest trends. I wondered if I would have been doing the same as them if I wasn’t a mage and had lived an average life like them. Probably not, I’d still be as restless as ever.

The last group was the two men. They were too far away and even if they were closer, I wouldn’t be able to hear them over the teenage girls. They were talking in hushed voices. Scowls and hands stuffed in pockets, their tall glasses of soda between them as they grumbled, probably college or exams. They looked like they were in college, maybe just out of it. Certainly in that age range.

I was taken out of my thoughts when my food was placed on my table with a gentle clack. I didn’t even get to say thanks before the man was back to the counter.

The dish had a gentle dip into it, somewhere between a plate and a bowl. There was a large lump of white rice on one side of it. I could see meat and vegetables, and the sauce was so red, the whole dish was steaming and the smell of it made my mouth water. Were those peppers? This man knew what I liked!

I took my spoon and dipped it into the food and brought it to my mouth.

Mmmh! Delicious! The taste was like a punch to the mouth, in a totally good way! Certainly what I liked my spicy foods. It was hot, very hot.

I took another bite. Maybe I could ask for his recipe. Nah, cooks don’t reveal their tricks. I scooped some rice into the next one, and it still tasted good. I’d have to say, for only 700 silver, this was certainly a good meal despite being so cheap.

The food was good, good to the point it was distracting. I didn’t hear people talking or moving, I just got lost in the food until I had someone yelling at me.

Slowly I lowered my spoon to look at the guy. It was one of the two men who were sitting in the restaurant. “Can I help you?” I asked after swallowing.

He held a knife in his hand, I noticed that the others had gone still and silent. His friend was at the counter, a larger knife in his hand as he barked orders at the sole employee of the joint. He kept pointing at the register as he snapped his demands impatiently.

My own intruder brandished his knife at me, his grip clumsy and palms clearly sweaty. He bared his teeth. “Just shut up! Weren’t you listening?” he demanded, and before I could even tell him I hadn’t been, he kept talking, “Just, just shut up and give me all the silver you have on you, got it? Give me all your money and I won’t hurt you!”

I just looked up at him with a bit of a blank expression as I took in his words, hand tapping against the side of my dish as I watched him. Why would he want all my silver?

Oh.

This was a robbery, wasn’t it?

[sending-the-message]

I'm still having nightmares about the day I found the door to Hell by Aaron_Abysmal

The nightmares have started again. 

Hell, I don't know that they ever went away. But I'm remembering bits and pieces of the horror again when I wake, covered in cold sweat, goosebumps spread across my arms and legs like a rash. Two nights ago I screamed so loudly that I woke myself up. 

I'm just an old man now, mind and body used up by years of manual labor and hard alcohol. I just celebrated my 78th birthday last week. When you're young you never think something could fuck you up for that long. 

You see, I used to work for the Water Department in a small city when I was in my early twenties. 

For a kid pretty much fresh out of high school, the pay was decent and the work wasn't hard if you were good with your hands. Every once in a while you'd have to go fix a pumping station, maybe, or unclog a sewer drain after a hard rain, but other than that it was easy and uneventful work. Until the day I saw the door to Hell.

That particular day I remember coming in and seeing my supervisor, Al Nell, buckling his utility belt. A green hardhat with a headlamp sat on the table next to him. That was never a good sign. 

"What's up, boss?" I asked, dreading his answer before he gave it. These kinds of work orders came up from time to time when the canal overflowed or the sewers backed up, and nobody liked doing them. 

"Good, you're here," Al grunted. "We got a main pump on the fritz. Jansen's still out sick, Denton and Gorcizca are on call, and Brewer's still on his honeymoon 'til next week. Looks like you, me and Gordon are going down on a little field trip." 

I opened my locker with a sigh. It was going to be one fuck-all of a day. 

Nobody liked going down into the sewers: the smell was awful, it was cramped and dark, and God forbid you got lost down there. The sewer system was old (very old) and somewhere along the course of time some shitpot had lost the blueprints. It was like going into a dark, shit-covered labyrinth without a map. Actually, that's exactly what it was. 

Jimmy Gordon came out of the bathroom as I was tightening my utility belt. I could hear the faint sound of the toilet flushing as the door closed behind him.

"Just sent some supplies down, in case you guys need lunch while we're down there."

I shot him the bird. 

"Gordon quit fuckin' around. It's going to be a long day and I want to spend as little of it as possible wandering around in the dark with you assholes." Al said. 

We put on our hardhats, I grabbed our enormous metal toolbox, and we piled into the utility truck. 

We drove down to Pumphouse #3, which was conveniently located amidst an area of lush overgrowth of tangles and bushes that ran adjacent to downtown. We did a few tests and located the pumping station that seemed to be the problem. From there we marched down through the tangles and blackberry bushes and found it just a little way off from the river. 

"Weird," Jimmy said as we approached the concrete cylinder. "The cap's already off it. You think Denton or Gorcizca already made the call?" 

"Fat chance," Al said and spat out a stringy glob of brown chewing tobacco. "They're laying pipe for a new residential off Broadway." 

"Maybe some kids were fuckin' around?" I suggested. 

"Who cares what moved it, let's get down there and fix it." Al started climbing down the steel ladder into the pumping station. Jimmy and I exchanged amused glances and then followed suit, me going first then Jimmy. 

The pump was fucked, all right. For one, the rotors were all clogged up with thick mats of long orange hair. That alone should have been enough to prompt us to find out just what the hell had been down here. But that wasn't all. 

A few feet away from the pump, in the mouth of the drainage pipe that ran from the pumping station into the sewer system, was a small red shoe no bigger than my hand. A child's shoe. 

"How in the hell did a kid get that pump cover off and end up down here?" Jimmy asked, his voice a mix of astonishment and unease.

"Doesn't matter how they got down here," Al said as he picked the tiny sneaker up grimly. "What matters now is that we find 'em and hope to God they're in one piece when we do. Looks like they lost a good lot of hair in that pump there." 

His eyes trailed to the tangle of hair stuck in the pump, and then back to the shoe.

"Carlton get the pump up and running. Gordon and I are on the search party." 

I nodded. Jimmy's face was pale and solemn. They clicked on the utility lights on their helmets and disappeared into the darkness of the sewer pipe. 

It took me about 30 minutes to splice the wires that were shorted and clean out all the shit clogging the pump. When I finally managed to pull out the knotted hair I found clumps of bloody scalp came with it. During that time I kept looking toward the opening of the pipe, expecting Al and Jimmy to come back carrying a scared and crying kid. But they never did. I finished up with the pump, packed up all the tools, closed the tool box. Staring into the black O of the sewer pipe I drew a long, deep breath. The newly repaired pump began to whir softly behind me. 

I drew the flashlight from my utility belt and entered the narrow sewer pipe.

My boss had been with the Water Dept. for ages, and he'd probably been down in those sewers a dozen times. Nell told me stories of people he'd worked with before that got lost down there and never came back. Just gone. "They belong to the sewers now." He'd say solemnly. "You go down there, you'd do well to take after Hansel and leave yourself a trail of breadcrumbs to find your way back out, or you'll belong to ‘em, too."

I found their trail easy enough. Every fifty yards or so I'd find a burning fusee producing red light, and a large orange X spraypainted at every fork to indicate which tunnel they'd taken. It was dead silent down there. I heard not the sound of scurrying rats or trickling water, but the air was electric like the atmosphere right before a big storm. They'd gone deep - much deeper than I was comfortable with. At one point I came to three pipes, each spewing clean water, greywater, and sewage. And don't you know there was a big orange X above the shitpipe. I couldn't see what made them take this winding course, it seemed too specific for a search. 

I sat the toolbox down, rolled up my pant legs, held my breath, and squeezed into the pipe. It sloped down deep. Real deep. As I descended I couldn't help but wonder just how far under the city I was, and who the hell would run pipe this deep. But as I got farther I could hear them talking excitedly. I came out of the tunnel, it wasn't as much a pipe anymore as it was an underpass, and couldn't believe what I saw. It was some grand underground cathedral, bigger than a ballroom. A hundred yards away I could see Nell and Gordon hovering around something.

"What the hell is this place?" I shouted.

"Carlton! Come check this shit out. Ain't never seen nothing like it." Gordon hollered back. Al's face was pale and scared. 

It was a door. A small oak door, maybe three feet high, big enough for a child or a dwarf. There was a big iron X across it, and a strange symbol that looked like a devil. A greenish-yellow light glowed brightly under the door. They'd found the door to Hell itself. 

"Damn thing's locked." Gordon muttered as he shook the handle. "Whaddaya thinks in there?" 

"I'm not sure we want to know." Al replied softly. He pointed to a pile of small bones at the foot of the door. If there was any doubt as to their nature, the tiny human skull that rested on top of the pile settled it.

"How'd you guys find this place?" I asked. This wasn’t something Waterworks put in. This was something else entirely. Some kind of lair. The atmosphere down there was charged and intense, and I swear I could feel the presence of evil itself.

"We heard a little girl crying once we made it in a little way. We kept calling out to her, trying to catch up to her, but she just kept saying 'help me' and running deeper into the damn sewer. Strange thing is, we followed her cries all the way here and now she's nowhere to be found."

"Where's the toolbox Carlton? I wanna see if I can jimmy the-" Gordon suddenly uttered a shrill scream that echoed off the stony walls of the chamber. 

I followed his gaze up the wall. Descending the domed stone wall toward us was an enormous scorpion at least eight feet in length. Its hollow exoskeleton glowed a translucent silvery-blue in the shadows. The inner claws of its mouth twitched and clamped with excitement. Al began running backwards, but Jimmy stood there petrified. 

"Run Gordon!" I yelled. Bemused, he turned and looked at me and then back to the hideous creature that had just climbed down the wall. 

Jimmy made as if to hit it with his flashlight, but a giant glowing pincer caught him at the forearm and snipped his arm clean off in one motion. A jet of bright blood sprayed onto the tiny glowing door. Jimmy shrieked in horrified agony, and then the scorpion's tail pistoned forward and its orange stinger pierced through his chest with a wet thud. 

I'm ashamed to admit it, but we fled. Turned and ran like cowards, and left Gordon there to die. I'm not sure what two men could have done against a scorpion as big as a pickup truck, but I'm still ashamed nonetheless. 

We scuttled back up the way we'd came and found orange Xs sprayed at all four intersections of the fork, like someone was trying to throw us off track. 

"What the hell, Carlton?" Al wailed. 

"I didn't do this. It wasn't like that earlier."

"C'mon, we came in right so we'll go back left." He pointed to the far left pipe.

"We came out of one of those middle pipes. We came out right, but not all the way." 

"Damnit boy, I know where I'm going. Now come on!" He grabbed my arm fiercely, but I pulled back.

"Al, I swear to you we came through one of the two in the middle. Look, there’s the toolbox." I pointed to our heavy-duty box sitting in front of two of the middle pipes.

"Suit yourself but I'm getting the hell out of here." He turned and went down the pipe on our far left. I watched him go, staring from him to the semicircle of orange Xs to the toolbox, and then picked one of the middle pipes. That was the last time I ever saw Al Nell.

Maybe Al was right, but still to this day I don't think so. Regardless, I wandered around in that damp, dark and smelly labyrinth and never saw another orange X. Some intersections I came to looked familiar, and I kept going the best I could remember, and when I couldn't remember I went with what felt right.

I'm not sure just how long I was down there but I suspect it was two or three days. Lost in that dark, wet warren I thought I would starve to death, never to see daylight again. At one point, I came to a big pile of our dead fusees, like someone had gone and gathered them all up and heaped them together. By then I was tired and scared and thirsty. I sat down right there with my flashlight and slept for a while in the muck.

I awoke to the sound of Al shrieking somewhere in the distance. His screams seemed to float down there in the dark, echoing from every surrounding pipe. The blood-curdling sounds came in bursts and lasted for several minutes before they finally stopped. I'll never forget hiding there in the dark listening to those shrill screams of agony. Not until the day I die. 

I sat there fixed to the damp and filthy ground, clutching my flashlight as a rat scurried past me. I don't know how long passed, minutes or hours, before then I heard something slinking down the sewer pipe towards me. 

Plop. Squish.

Plop. Squish.

Plop.

"Carl-ton," I heard Al croak from the darkness. But what came out of that pipe wasn't Al. It was a little girl with matted orange hair, a faded grey dress speckled with spots of dark green mold, and a missing shoe. The top part of her scalp was missing.

"Are you okay little girl?" I asked and got to my feet uneasily.

"I told them there were no monsters in the sewer, Mister. They bet me two bucks I wouldn't touch the bottom of the well."

There was something off about her calm demeanor in this setting. She smiled and extended a tiny pale hand toward me. I went toward her to take it, but stopped when she whispered:

"I won the bet... but I guess monsters are real after all."

That was when I realized, even with my headlight blaring on her, she cast no shadow. Her eyes became cloudy and white, and there was only purple gore where her throat had once been. She started laughing madly but it wasn't the sound of a little girl's laugh. It was deep and booming - the sound of a demon.

"No!" I shouted and threw my flashlight at her head. I turned and ran as fast as I could, twisting and winding down pipes blindly, ducking or crawling in some places. Eventually I saw light up ahead. I went toward it with the desperation of a prisoner with freedom in sight. It was a pumping station. I crawled out of the grimy pipe and gripped the steel ladder that led to my freedom. I risked one last glance back into the dark sewer and saw a pair of enormous yellow cat eyes staring back at me and then I got the fuck out of there.

I packed my shit up that day and headed as far south as I could afford to go. I didn't stop until I was out of money and then kept going. I only ever had one cop question me about what happened once I set up residence in Louisiana, and they didn't sound very interested. A couple of quick questions and then he abruptly wished me a good day. I don't know if they ever found Al but something tells me not. He belongs to the sewers now.

I had night terrors for years. I drank a fifth of whisky every night just to get to sleep. Even then I couldn't sleep unless every light in the room was lit, and I refused to go anywhere remotely dark or cramped. Nyctophobia and claustrophobia the doctors called it. I found odd jobs in manual labor here and there doing electrical patchwork or building fences or painting. But never plumbing. Then one day, the nightmares just stopped completely like someone had flipped a switch.

I'm still not sure what was down there. Maybe it was some kind of Pandora's Box, full of horrors, or maybe we found the door to Hell itself burried down there beneath the city. My heart tells me it's the latter.

Last night I dreamt I was back in those dreadful sewers. I came into that hellish mausoleum and saw Gordon’s skeleton surrounded by the tattered green rags of his uniform. And then Hell's door swung open. I awoke screaming so violently my throat hurt and found I pissed the bed.

As far as I can remember, I haven't had a nightmare about what I saw that day in over 30 years... and now they've come back.

[ladi-nightshade]

"Being a SAHM is easy"

Dearest brother in law, you could not be more wrong. My job is NEVER done. Ever. There is always floors to be swept. Bathrooms to be cleaned. Dishes and clothes to wash. Bills to be paid. Budgets that have to be created and stayed in. Groceries to be purchased and put away. Dust to be dusted (but let's be real and tell the truth; this one gets passed over a bit). Food to be made. Toys to be picked up. Dogs to be taken care of. Dr appts to make / go to. Lunches to be made. And on top of it there is a little one who needs constant attention and to eat and be changed often. We'll be adding making baby food this weekend. When do I get time off? When I use the bathroom? ...But wait. Many times the kiddo has to sit in there with me because *constant attention*. When he's asleep? Those clothes and dishes are going to wash (dry and fold) themselves. Can't you put him down? Sure for short bursts. At least my arms get a break...From holding a baby. But I still have to scrub toilets, sinks, and showers. I don't get a real break. Most days are crazy. I skip some laundry one day to be able to take a nap because the kiddo has been super fussy because of teething and I pay for it the next day because I have to catch up so hubs will have clean clothes. Now I'm super (SUPER) lucky that when my hubs comes home he is so supportive. If I look like I've had a rough day (you just know) hell take the baby so I can take a nice long shower to recoop some energy. He does all the manual labor around the house. Grass cutting. Patching walls. Painting. Garage work. Car maintenance. Etc. There is not bloody way I'd be able to do all I do AND do what he does. No way in hell. Not keeping my sanity anyways. I love my non-paid job. I wouldn't miss this time for the world. I have to stop here. There are parents out there that do all the stuff I said I couldn't do alone, alone. Single parents, their partners work far from home, military families, they have plain unsupportive partners, etc. Then there are parents that would kill to be home during this time. To do all the things mentioned above. But they can't because of uncontrollable circumstances. And all these people are the real heros. So to all the parents out there that are struggling, either it be because you are alone, tired, or otherwise: Keep your head up. You are not alone. :)