Shane and The Devil making a deal so the Puppet History can continue after The Professor's death:
Shane: Ok. So. *grabs his pen* What do you want?
Devil: I'll be frank, Shane. (here Shane considers saying 'Hi, Frank!', but decides to keep it professional) I want Ryan's soul. That man's got a good fight of good and evil in him. More evil than good. Would look great in my collection.
Shane: Wha-? But I'm the one making this deal! Why not mine?! Besides, I know I can't deal someone else's soul.
Devil: You are not as evil as you think. Your soul is not or great interest. As for his soul, you don't have to offer it to me, just agree to help me acquire it. I have other ways.
Shane: No! I will not doom my friend's soul to hell!
Devil: Fine. So, no deal.
Shane: *sighs and pauses* Ok. So... How about you take both our souls? Mine and Ryan's. Package deal.
Devil: What. Are- Are you offering your soul for free?
Shane: Yeah, sure! :) If my best pal needs to go to hell, then I might as well go with him! He will need a friend! Besides, the more the merrier to you, right?! You can't say no to that.
Devil:
Devil: Deal.
Devil: I really can't decide if you belong in hell.
I KNOW there are some good episodes here and there, but my goodness the way they write Merlin in some of them feels so off? Especially in Lancelot and Guinevere and Beauty and the Beast. Like he just is an idiot??? Which is fair but like EVEN MORESO. It's like season 2 was written by Arthur using only his perception of Merlin and then exaggerated to hell and back
“They gave me runway in this film. There’s one monologue in there. I can’t tell you the details of it. I say more words in that monologue than I said in an entire movie once as Wolverine. But there are sides of the character that I’ve been scratching at for 24 years […] There is stuff in this movie where I was like, ‘This is the thing I’ve been trying to get out’ and I feel so excited about it.”
— Hugh Jackman talking about Logan in Deadpool & Wolverine (x)
its 4/20 please take some time to remember everyone that has died / been incarcerated / lost any chance at a normal life for your right to smoke ur fuckin mids.
probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.
we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."
at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.
the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.
the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.
what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.
here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.
the easy grip on the knife. the leg over the seat. the hand over the other seat. the sassy "come get it" move. you know the bitch is smiling behind that mask even as he said the line.