#its like a little bomb in my head always rigged to explode

[wineaunt420]

This is a bit of a rant but

WHY HAS IT TAKEN ME THIS LONG TO GO THROUGH THE TFA ALLSPARK ALMANIC WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME

This was litteraly my first time seeing Oilslick's first concept art and BRO thank FUCK they changed it (and then changed it again and again 😒they should have just kept the toy design)

But I'm literally bouncing off the walls, they have colour concepts for Prometheus black and that lanky ink sketch of Oilslick is chefs kiss, not to mention the box art of Oilslick that I never got to see because my Oilslick was unboxed 😭😭 I kinda wanna buy a second Oilslick figure just to repaint him in his unreleased concept paint toxic Oilslick. I've actually made it my mission to own asmuch Oilslick stuff that I can get my hands on, nothing will stop me (aside from the financial aspect)

Bonus, Their Meltdowns mugshot and the way henry masterson types, RIP Henry masterson you would have loved MySpace you freaky little emo

(Meltdown melting his mugshot card 😭 this man is actually a wet cloth, I love him)

[homiesondaweb]

Okay I can't stop thinking about Hobie's siblings and childhood on my head now. So y'all gonna get these OC's and headcanons. I can't draw worth a damn so yall gonna get some face claims I pulled off Pinterest lol.

Starting wit the oldest of the siblings,

Hudson and Hendricks

Left: Hudson Right: Hendricks

While they both are talented with tinkering and such, in the shop Hendricks is the mechanic while Hudson is the technician. They both battle over who has more of an influence on Hobie. (Surprise! Its equal lol)

Hudson is a big flirt while Hendricks is an introvert.

They help put in on the rent once they establish the Shop and (may or may not) have rigged the utilities in their neighborhood so that most community places and homes have free electricity and gas.

The shop is always bumping Cymande, Gil Scott-Heron, and Mandrill

Can't keep away from Jamaican girls to save they life

They are shotgun older brothers. They will mob and grill anybody that shows interest in their little siblings (ESPECIALLY HARLEY, curse of being the baby sister)

Hudson taught Hobie how to take things apart and problem solve to fit them back together. Hendricks taught him how to play with circuits and to hack/program electronics.

The three of them would spend hours a week welding or smoldering shit together.

Their default looks are mostly their natural looks save for Hudson having yellow and orange highlights and tones. Hendricks usually has purple and blue highlights and tones.

Henry

Fits the quiet, sensitive artist stereotype to a tee. Can draw and sew but once Ma got him into film photography and he's been hooked ever since.

Is a fruit fiend. LOVES pies, cobblers, jello, fruity or sour candy. Fuck money, pay him in a ripe mango or some lemon drops yo.

1000% a Mama's boy, lol.

Despite being nearly mute with how precious he is about his words, is a HUGE social butterfly and the most networked out of his siblings besides Harley.

Spends a lot of time at the canal with the rest of the "destitute artists societal leeches" as the PM and Brit News call them. It's when he meets his partner Rembrandt and learns that love is the only label one should abide by.

His camera is his gun, the streets and his warrants for arrest know him as The Moor after the PM runs a censorship campaign and suddenly most art depicting Black, brown, and non-British people was censored with ugly Black cut outs. He first photo flyer protest was adding Othello back to paintings of his play. Newspapers called it "Return of the Moor." So he snagged it for the sake of irony.

He's a people watcher, he sees the art in everybody. Like tinkering with machines, he likes learning how people behave and tick. He learns how to be a soft influence once he sees that is the most effective way to help others and investigate ideals/intention and see if they're genuine. He teaches this skill to Hobie. It wasn't uncommon to find Hobie piggy backed on Henry as they lap the parks, whispering in Kreyòl ayisyen about their observations of the world.

His default look makes him appear reddish with bold black lines due to the amount of time he spends on his dark room developing photos or he is covered on scraps of Renaissance art/script.

Harley

Harley found her first guitar after hiding during a Symbiote raid on an underground concert. She stepped on it when she finally escaped from her spot. The stum was perfect, made a pile of symbiote goop explode. She took it home and got to work perfecting her sound.

She is the people's champ, LOVES meeting new people and networking. Is bold in her care for others. Always down to help the lil man. This has made her very adept at languages and communications. If you need a debater, advocate, negotiator, wordsmith having her on your side is the best choice. In a different life most definitely would have been a lawyer.

The entire family knows she is Pa's favorite and she is very much a daddy's girl lol.

Before it was bombed by the PM she and Hobie were regulars at the library. The two shared a love for reading, Harley makes sure all her brothers are book smart because you never know when you need some knowledge.

She is the designated family hairstylist even their parents. While doing Hobie's hair she would sit her guitar in his lap and guide him in learning how to play. She never had a fuss about him snagging it to play unless she needed it for practice. You can pay her on cassettes or vinyls records. Is a Betty Davis STAN.

Can only grow vegetables. The only flower or regular plant that doesn't die within a week of her possession is an orchid because it is a stick on dirt for half the year. She started the community garden after reading a banned book on the importance of nutrition to recovery from sicknesses

Here and her band led many youth heavy protests be it marching, pop up-concerts, vandalizing, or taking over a news station or council meetings full of Oscorp puppets and gained notoriety for it. When music wasn't enough, when words weren't enough, and every resource she could produce was nothing. Harley was never afraid to fight. She never claimed to be, but she is very much Hobie's hero.

Her default look has a lot of bold and swooped lines with sepia filters and graffitied sold English styled literature quotes and newspaper clippings cut outs. Her hair accessories are usually her pops of bright colors.

This is my theory piece on astv Hobie's Backstory.

Despite the whole Punk lifestyle, living on a repurposed canal boat, minor rock star status, and having active warrants out for both his civilian and Spidey persona thing he's got going on. Hobie had a pretty normal childhood for a bit. 

His Pa managed the local radio stations and his Ma was a lead writer for the newspaper. Hobie found himself the baby out of 5 siblings and their 4 bedroom flat was just a bit too small for the 7 people family but it was great. 

The neighborhood was always lively with community get-togethers, music rattled the bricks and the air was always savory with smell of jerk. Hobie used to eat himself sick with coconut candy and orange cake every weekend. He liked going to 'school' which meant being crammed into Ms. Ngozi and Ms. Freedman's flat with the other neighborhood kids then being taught from books Ms. Freedman had smuggled in when she partnered with Ms. Ngozi. Reading, writing, history, debate, arithmetic, ethics, journalism, all kinds of science but Ngozi loved when Hobie would take a machine apart and remake it. 

His eldest siblings by about 12 years, twin brothers Hudson and Hector ran the 'Shop'. If you needed something fixed within their 6 block neighborhood you took it there. Cars, big appliances, medical equipment, radios, tvs, his brothers could fix it all. They'd fix it good, cheap or free and in a timely manner. (And they greatly encouraged their Little Bart brother to tinker) 

Next was is other older brother, Henry. He was only 9 years older than him. A photographer and worked under their mother getting dynamic shots for any article she posted. He introduced Hobie to a lot of artists and taught him how to observe the world around him. How to sneak in and out of it.

Then there was his only sister, Harley. She was closest in age to him, only 5 years older. She was a badass on the guitar and even slicker at the mouth. She debated anyone under a table and had a right hook to back it up. You never would have pegged her to be the one to run the community garden. Not with her self-done piercings, bleach painted jackets, head fully of bantu knots and black lipstick. But she did, she taught Hobie everything to know about growing orchids and tomatoes.

Life was good. Despite the rising police violence, cost of living, and the fumes of Oscorp rising. 11 year old Hobie didn't know it to be anything else. 

Then, he turns 12. Ma and Henry don't come home.

He's 12 and the Ngozi-Freedman homeschool is raided. He never sees them again but Harley fills her stage trunk with their books and records.

He's 12. Someone reported the shop and President Osborne new "certificate enforcement" squad torches the building. Hudson gets away but the Symbiotes bail out Hector to them and he only has one arm. 

He's 12. The government has taken over the radio station, firing Pa. The house becomes cramped with the equipment Pa had smuggled out. Hudson shows back up and he's as ghost as Hector.

He's 12 and half his friends are just faces on murals and the other half is sick from the water. The garden is sabotaged and the city fines Harley (how the fuck do you fine a 17 year old?) 

And there's a protest. Pa has taken over the radios in the city and rallies the people, he repeats Ma articles over and over informing the people about the propaganda, the contamination, the disappeared people, the injustice. He repeats them and repeated them as the twins litter the city with flyers using Henry's photos of the truth. 

And there's a protest. 

There's hundred of protests of all sizes, all over.

There's a riot. 

There's riots.

There's fire and panic and Symbiotes spill into the neighborhood like oil and-

Hobie turns 13, it's just him and Harley. 

Hobie turns 14, it's just him and Harley's guitar.

Hobie is 15, he's just some punk kid bit by a radioactive spider while trying to find shelter from a Symbiote raid. He uses this to his advantage. 

He turns 16 and instead of blowing out birthday candles he's smashing Harley's guitar through a fascist dictator head with his fellow super powered punks. (He can't think of a better wish)

He's 17 and Miguel makes a mistake in showing up to his dimension with an offer to join his 'society'. 

[chemicalmagecraft]

A Black Wind Howls Chapter 1

A/N: Imagine me not writing a new fanfic instead of working on either my two existing fics or my college work because I sure can't apparently.

By the way the fic starts sometime during the events of Imprisoned, that one episode early in book one where they had all the earthbenders on the metal water prison.

oOoOo

The girl was curled up in a ball, sitting on the floor of a Fire Nation prison rig. Her black eyes were dull and she was staring at nothing in particular. The old man, Tyro, walked up to her. "Are you cold, kid?" he asked her softly.

She shook her head. The movement was barely perceptible.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded.

Tyro sat next to her. "Are you sure?"

She did nothing.

"Is there anyone here you know?"

She shook her head.

"Do you need someone to talk to?"

She shook her head.

Tyro sighed. "Okay. Well, if you need anything come to me."

oOoOo

meanwhile

"Look at this, guys!" Aang said, pointing to a board of wanted posters. The poster he was pointing at showed a person wearing a black mask with a swirling pattern on it, reminiscent of the insignia of the Air Nomads.

"The Black Wind," Sokka read. "Wanted dead or alive. If you have any information, report it to an officer. So?"

"Are you interested in the myth of the Black Wind?" a nearby villager asked. "It's intriguing, if a little morbid."

"Aang, we don't have time for this!" Katara said. "We have to find a way to save Haru."

"I'll make it quick," the villager said. "The Black Wind is a spirit that started to appear after the start of the Hundred-year War. It would attack Fire Nation resources in the Earth Kingdom under the cover of night before disappearing. It's said to have powerful control over air, akin to a master airbender, and can become one with the air itself. Some even say it can chill the air to freezing temperatures or take away firebending. Firebenders everywhere fear it."

"Really?" Sokka asked incredulously. "So there's just some all-powerful air spirit out there that hates the Fire Nation? I don't buy it, if there was something like that then wouldn't it have attacked the Fire Lord directly already?"

The villager shrugged. "It's just a myth, unfortunately. It's said that the Black Wind was born from the dying malice of the Air Nomads."

Katara grabbed Aang and pulled him away. "Thank you, but we have to go now."

"Can you believe that guy?" Sokka said. "'Master airbender spirit.' Like that'd happen!" He looked at Aang. "No offense, of course."

Aang was beaming. "No, you're right, Sokka!"

Sokka raised an eyebrow. "I know I am, but I thought you'd be less happy about that."

Aang grinned from ear to ear. "Don't you see, Sokka? There can't be a spirit like that!"

Sokka frowned. "Iiii don't get what you're- OH!" He pointed at Aang. "You're hoping they're not a spirit!"

"Yeah!" Aang nodded.

"I don't get it," Katara said.

"The rumors have to come from somewhere," Sokka said.

"Maybe it comes from an airbender who escaped the Fire Nation!" Aang added.

"Okay, we should definitely check that out," Katara conceded. "But let's save Haru first."

oOoOo

later

Katara got up on the raised air vent. "Earthbenders! You don't know me, but I know you! Every child of my home was told bedtime stories of the brave Earth Kingdom and the fearless benders who guard it! Some you you may think that the Fire Nation has taken away your power, but they haven't! They may take away the earth, but they can't take away your courage! And it's your courage that they should fear! Your courage is your real power, and they can never take that away! So remember your courage and fight back!" The earthbenders heard her speech, but while it resonated with them just a little bit they still didn't have hope they could win...

And unbeknownst to her, Katara's speech was heard by more than the earthbenders and the guards. The girl thought about the reason why she was there in the first place.

oOoOo

a few days ago

The day was clear, the sun beating down on the forest. Two shadowy figures darted through the trees with inhuman speed and agility, dodging fire blasts thrown by a squad of firebenders mounted on mongoose lizards. "Get them!" their leader shouted. The shadowy figures nodded at each other and pulled out daggers. As they ran, they slashed at the trees in front of them. Their blades went nowhere near the trees themselves but they were cut through nonetheless, as if by invisible saws. The trees collapsed as they ran past, obstructing the firebenders. While their mounts were agile enough to climb over the felled trees, they slowed down in doing so. "You can run but you can't hide, airbenders!" the leader shouted at them as they ran away.

The figures sped through the forest, still toppling the occasional tree. It looked like they were going to escape the forest... and then a wall of fire erupted, blocking off their exit. More mounted firebenders emerged from the fire. "Fan out!" one of them shouted. "We can't let them escape again!"

The shadowy figures jumped back, landing on tree branches. They separated, jumping from tree to tree to shake their pursuers. The smaller of the two shadowy figures, a young girl, stopped after a few minutes when she was confident she was safe. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, seemingly to thin air. "This is all my fault."

The larger of the figures appeared to materialize out of thin air, hugging her. "This is not your fault, my child," he told her.

"But..."

The man shook his head. "But nothing. We will get out of here alive." He pulled two rods from his belt and combined them to make a staff, which he presented to the girl. "Here. Take this."

"This is your staff," she said.

The man chuckled. "I really should've made you your own a while ago. I guess this is karma for that. Take it and leave. Fly as far away as you can. I'll find you, don't worry about me." The girl grabbed at the man, but he drifted away from her as if weightless. He started to vanish, fading from view. "Goodbye, my daughter. Remember, I will always love you," he said, his voice a whisper on the wind.

In the forest below, the firebenders had gathered, except a few who kept guard of the perimeter. "Where are they!" the leader of the firebenders demanded.

"I don't know, it's like they disappeared!" one of his subordinates responded.

"Then find them!"

Before the firebenders could disperse again, the forest exploded like a bomb was dropped. Frigid, gale-force winds battered the firebenders, their mounts, and even the trees. Blades of wind sliced at every surface, cutting through the firebenders' armor and even killing some outright.

When the winds subsided, frost covered everything. The taller shadowy figure stood in the center of the swirling crater made by the blast. "Captain Zhao," he said. His face couldn't be seen behind his swirl-patterned black mask, but it didn't need to be for everyone present to know he was scowling.

The named leader's armor began to steam as he heated himself up. "It's Commander Zhao now, and it'll soon be Admiral when I drag your steaming corpse back to the Fire Lord, Black Wind."

"If," the Black Wind corrected him.

Zhao sneered. "When. Speaking of, where's the girl?"

"I sent her away so I can kill you all in peace." The man got into an unusual fighting stance.

"No matter, I suppose I'll find her when I'm done with you." Zhao smirked. "Not like a child can do much to threaten the might of the Fire Nation." He dismounted and assumed his own stance. His men followed his lead.

"Careful," the Black Wind cautioned. "Underestimate my daughter and she might be the death of you. At the very least you'll lose a limb."

"I'll be the judge of that. Get him," he ordered. The firebenders threw blasts of fire at the man, but a smoke bomb popped from a pouch at his waist and exploded, as if on its own. The fireballs tore through the smoke cloud, but the Black Wind was nowhere to be found.

"Where did he go?" one of the firebenders asked. The Black Wind appeared behind him like a specter of death, cleaving him in two without even touching him before fading back into thin air.

"H-how is he doing that?" another firebender asked.

"Magic," the Black Wind appeared in front of him before driving his dagger into his neck. The firebenders shot at him, but only hit their ally as Black Wind had vanished again.

Zhao clenched his teeth. He had to be somewhere. He was only human, and not even the most powerful bender could become their element. He looked around carefully. There. Specks of blood trailed from Black Wind's last victim. Another one appeared, though it didn't look like there was anywhere it could have come from. Zhao threw a wave of fire in its general direction.

The fire was blown away, revealing Black Wind for but a moment before he started to fade away again. "He's invisible!" Zhao shouted. "Whatever technique he's doing, he can't do it and bend at the same time! Keep the pressure up!"

The firebenders threw more fire at their target. He deflected them all with a cocoon of air, revealing himself again. "Heh," the Black Wind said. "You're smart, I'll give you that." He turned invisible again. "Too bad I have to kill you now." His voice seemed to come from everywhere at once.

Zhao looked around, trying to see where Black Wind had gone. So this is why Sozin had started the war with an attack on the airbenders. He was honestly terrified. His heart was pounding and it felt hard to breathe. He sucked in a breath. No, it was definitely getting harder to breath. "He's suffocating us!" he tried to say, but no noise came from his mouth. Was this how he would die?

No, his destiny was greater than that! he couldn't die! Zhao calmed himself, trying to steady his breathing. The longer he waited, the weaker his firebending would be. He needed to find the Black Wind now. He looked around, trying to find the telltale blood from his soldier. There were red spots on the trees! Zhao blasted a branch. Nothing. He tried his best to take a deep breath and glared at the remaining soldiers. They were panicking, but his fire blast shook them out of it. They nodded and started blasting the trees too. Soon the forest around them was burning, but they still hadn't hit the Black Wind.

"Tick tock," the Black Wind's voice taunted. Zhao could barely breathe at this point. He only had enough breath left for one fire jab. He'd have to make it count. He looked around as carefully as he could. He saw a person-shaped shimmer of air from one of the higher branches, the heat apparently distorting the Black Wind's technique for a moment. Zhao poured the last of his fire into his punch, hitting not the Black Wind but the branch under his feet. With his footing lost the Black Wind fell, unable to concentrate on either of his techniques. Zhao gasped as he was suddenly able to breathe again and threw as strong of a fire blast as he could manage at the now-visible Black Wind. His men did the same, and while the Black Wind was able to block them all he hit his head on a branch. Dazed, the Black Wind fell to the ground.

Zhao walked over to the Black Wind. "What was that about you killing us?" he asked the black-clad man before kicking him into unconsciousness, then grinned. "Tie him up, fast. I don't want him to be able to move a muscle and we should get him in chains before he wakes up." His smirk widened. "The Fire Lord will be pleased."

"What about the girl?" one of the firebenders asked.

"She must be miles away by now," Zhao said. "No use looking for her, not to mention the risk of leaving him unattended. We'll just have to keep up a good guard and hope for the best. Now hurry, before he wakes up!"

But the girl wasn't miles away. In fact, she was hiding in one of the trees, sobbing. She'd seen the whole fight.

oOoOo

one week later

The girl was on her feet again. She knew that the new girl's speech from yesterday wasn't directed at her, but even still it resonated with her. And when the coal burst through the air vent, a shine returned to her eyes. A shine that had been missing ever since she saw her father get taken away. And even before Haru threw the first stone, the girl was looking for ways to attack the firebenders while making it look like she was an earthbender. When the fighting broke out, she reached out at a few pieces of coal. The coal dust swirled around them and they floated into the air. She shakily copied one of the earthbenders throwing coal, shooting her coal at the firebenders. Nobody noticed, in the confusion, that even the pieces of coal that narrowly missed scored deep cuts in the firebenders or sliced gashes in their armor. And the ones that hit... left holes.

The girl picked up more rocks, looking for more firebenders to throw them at. She saw a firebender about to attack was that another airbender? If not he was some weird, really diligent cosplayer. The girl shot one rock at the firebender's solar plexus, making the air bullet around it blunt instead of sharp. She didn't want to frighten the airbender, if he was an airbender. The old airbenders didn't like murder, right? That felt like something her father told her at some point. The rock, or rather the air bullet hit the firebender perfectly on target. The firebender collapsed with a loud shout as all the air was forced out of his lungs. The airbender smiled and nodded at the girl, then threw another firebender overboard with a gale of wind. The firebender that the girl had hit shakily got back up and punched at the airbender's back.

Only a puff of smoke came from his fist. He stared at his hand with horror before he was thrown off the platform too. The airbender then did some kind of improvised airbending move, a tornado funnel from the looks of it, and shouted for his friends to get him coal. The girl picked up a few more pieces of coal and sprinted to the airbender. She placed the coal in the funnel with the others. The coal shot at some firebenders, knocking them off of the platform. The girl then saw Tyro and Haru grab the warden and the few remaining firebenders with coal and dump them overboard. She breathed a sigh of relief, then noticed something. There was a necklace on the ground. It looked like the one the girl who made the speech was wearing earlier. Maybe it fell off while she was fighting?

The girl walked over to it and picked it up. It was a choker with a stone carved with the symbol for waterbending on it. "Is that girl from the Water Tribe?" the girl wondered to herself. It looked like she was friends with the airbender too. The girl looked around and saw that the two, plus a boy who looked like he could be related to the water tribe girl, were heading to the boats. She ran after them.

oOoOo

"Thank you Katara," Tyro said. "You gave me hope again. You gave us all hope again. And now we're going to give the rest of the Earth Kingdom hope again."

"Come with us, Katara," Haru offered.

"I'd love to," Katara said, "but we have to take Aang to the North Pole."

"Aang. He's the Avatar, isn't he?" Haru asked.

"Yeah..." Katara touched her neck wistfully. She gasped when she noticed that her choker was gone. "My mother's necklace!"

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. She jumped and turned around to see a small girl who looked maybe a little bit like Aang if he was a few inches shorter, had no tattoos, and had short short black hair holding her mother's necklace. "I think you dropped this," she said quietly. She may have looked like Aang, but she didn't really act like him... "You should keep better track of this while fighting, if it's important to you."

Katara took the necklace and put it on. "Thank you so much!" she said gratefully and hugged her. The girl flinched, but didn't resist it.

"Um... You said that you're traveling with the Avatar, right?" the girl asked when Katara let her go. She was blushing slightly. "Can I please speak with him?"

"Sure, just follow me." When Katara started walking, it didn't feel like the girl was following her. But when she stopped and looked at her, the girl was still right behind her.

"Why'd you stop?"

"Sorry, just... didn't think you were following me for some reason."

The girl nodded. "I understand. I'm pretty quiet."

Katara turned back around and started walking again. She couldn't hear or feel the girl moving behind her at all. She wouldn't say anything to her, but it was a little creepy...

"Hey, Katara!" Aang said when she walked up to him.

"Who's that girl behind you?" Sokka asked.

"And why does she look kinda familiar?" Aang added.

"Aang, Sokka, this is... sorry, I never actually asked your name," Katara said.

The girl nodded. "That's okay. My name is Dorji."

Aang's eyes widened and he pointed at her. "That's an Air Nomad name!"

"Really?" Sokka asked.

Dorji nodded. The rough brown tunic that the firebenders had made her and the other prisoners wear over their clothes exploded in a burst of air, revealing the clothes she was wearing underneath. They were mostly black, with a few bits of green. "I'm an airbender."

"Another airbender!" Aang hugged Dorji. Just like with Katara, she looked uncomfortable but didn't say anything.

Sokka frowned. "I know you're excited you found another airbender, Aang, but why were you even here to begin with?" He pointed at Dorji. "I doubt the Fire Nation would just stick an airbender in a prison for earthbenders, especially when the last airbender is supposedly the Avatar."

"Sokka-" Katara started to object, but Dorji cut her off.

"No, it's a reasonable question. I'm sure if I actually told those soldiers I was an airbender I would have been taken directly to the Fire Nation, if not killed outright..." She sniffed and rubbed a tear from her eye. "At least, that was what happened to my father..."

Katara slapped Sokka. "Hey!" Sokka objected.

"Instead I pretended to be an earthbender. They were rough, but didn't hurt me."

"Were you also planning a breakout?" Aang asked.

Dorji looked away and clutched her arm nervously. "No. I... lost hope." She bit her lip, tears forming in her eyes. "Y-you have to understand, my father..." She sniffed. "M-my... my father..." She started crying, still trying to explain herself between sobs.

Aang hugged her again. This time she didn't flinch, though only because she was too busy sobbing. "It's okay."

"I-I'm s-sorry..." Dorji muttered.

Katara and Sokka hugged her too. "It hurts, doesn't it?" Katara asked.

Dorji nodded and rubbed her eyes.

"It feels bad now, but it gets easier," Sokka added softly.

Dorji sniffed after a few minutes. "I'm better now."

The three let go of her. "Do you have someone you can go to?" Katara asked.

"My grandmother is still alive, but..." She pressed her fingers together nervously. "Do you mind if I come with you three?"

Aang grinned. "Well I'd love it if you came along! We airbenders gotta stick together, right?"

"I don't see why not," Katara added.

"Welcome to Team Avatar, I guess," Sokka said. "Now let's go. We've already spent a lot of time here, and we're supposed to be heading to the North Pole."

Dorji nodded. "To find a waterbending master for the Avatar?"

"And me," Katara said. "I'm a waterbender, but unfortunately I never had a proper teacher so I'm not too good..."

"I see," Dorji said. "Though, do you mind making a few short stops for me? They should be on the way, and I promise I'll try to be quick."

"Sure thing!" Aang said before Sokka could voice his concerns. "Now hop on Appa!" He pointed to the flying bison.

Dorji admired him. "A real flying bison... I thought they were all wiped out..."

"You can gawk at him all you want in the air," Sokka told her.

oOoOo

"So what are we doing here?" Sokka asked as he pushed aside a tree branch.

"I was worried that the firebenders would figure out who I really was due to my equipment, so I hid them somewhere I hoped nobody would find them," Dorji explained, ducking and weaving through the thick branches like she was born in that forest. "You guys didn't have to come." She stopped in front of a large tree. "We're here."

"What are we looking for?" Katara asked.

Dorji jumped, easily reaching one of the lower branches of the tree. "I'll be back shortly." She jumped again, disappearing into the leaves.

"Something seems off about her," Sokka said.

"Sokka!" Katara glared at him.

Aang frowned. "I don't think it's anything bad, but I think I know what you're talking about. She doesn't carry herself like the airbenders I remember. It's like... the difference between a rabbit and a cat, I guess."

"I understand your concerns," Dorji said as she floated down from the tree, a package bundled in a tarp floating in front of her in an air bubble. "The power of airbending may have survived through my family line, but unfortunately the spirit of the Air Nomads lives on only through you." Aang winced at that comment. Dorji touched down lightly and let the package float to the ground. The tarp unfurled, revealing a belt with several pouches and two daggers sheathed on it, a black staff segmented in two pieces, and a black, swirling mask. "My grandmother was never fit to be a monk."

"You're the Black Wind," Sokka realized.

Dorji shook her head. "My father was the Black Wind, and my grandmother before him." She picked up the belt with her airbending and put it on. "I am next in line, though. I understand if you have concerns, but I do hope you don't change your minds." She stowed the segments of her father's staff on her belt. "Don't worry, though, I won't be wearing the mask a lot. For the most part it's sentimental. But the spirit of defiance against the Fire Nation I am hoping to carry on through my companionship with you."

Aang frowned for a moment, but forced a smile. "It's... fine. Don't worry about it."

Sokka shrugged. "Well if Aang's fine with it so am I." He slung his arm around Aang's shoulder. "Isn't this cool, Aang? We're gonna be traveling with an actual ninja!"

Aang chuckled nervously. "Yyyeah..."

Katara frowned at him. That didn't sound good.

oOoOo

A/N: Okay so I had this idea like a while ago, then I started rewatching ATLA and got so much inspiration (like for example one of Iroh's first lines in the series was something along the lines of "Fire comes from the breath, not the muscle," which inspired one of Dorji's techniques), so here we are in the future.

Also if anyone has any like tips or anything on how to write bending and fighty stuff better (especially Dorji because while there are some similarities she's supposed to have a fighting style distinct from regular airbending which means I can't use anything from canon for reference...) PLEASE TELL ME. Or tips in general actually. Just please don't phrase it too rudely please.

[littlekatleaf]

Buried in a burning flame is love and its decisive pain (part 2)

Part One

Felt like he’d only just fallen asleep when someone shook his shoulder. “Wazzat,” he mumbled. The room was still pitch black, only the faintest hint of lightening around the edges of the curtains. 

“Up, Rat. Null Sector.” Roadhog’s voice was unusually sharp and Junkrat bolted instantly and completely awake.  

“Here?” He buckled on his prosthetics, already ticking through the supplies he’d brought and what could be cobbled together. No one’d expected a fight, but he ‘n Roadie weren’t never unprepared.

“Close. Morrison radioed Tracer - apparently someone tipped him off about a civilian hit a couple klicks from here.” “Think it’s a trap?” Seemed odd for an attack in such a remote area. 

Roadhog shrugged. “Possible.”

Guessed it made no difference - Overwatch couldn’t risk leaving innocents unprotected and where Overwatch went, so Junkrat and Roadhog went, too.

As he stumbled into the kitchen, Emily thrust a large paper cup of black coffee into his hand. Junkrat smiled gratefully. Heat felt good on his raw throat and the caffeine burned away the lingering fog from the corners of his brain. “Ta,” he said, but she didn’t seem to register. Her eyes followed Tracer as she paced, alternating between terse tactics with Morrison via com and equally short suggestions to Satya about setting up defenses around the cabin. 

“Take Satya with you. I don’t need a babysitter,” Emily said as Tracer slipped her communicator into the pocket of her coat. Her words were defensive, but pleading. The air between them crackled, heavy with everything they didn’t say. Trying to stay out of the way, Junkrat fossicked through his bag, checking over concussion mines and bombs, making sure fuses were properly set, triggers locked but ready.

“You’ll need her...” “Em.” Tracer interrupted, crossing the room and cupping Emily’s cheek in one hand. “We’ve been over this. If Morrison’s informant is playing us… if it’s a trap, I need to know you’re safe.” Emily sighed and bent forward slightly, leaning her forehead against Tracer’s. “I want you to be safe, too,” she said softly.

Junkrat stood. Felt like intruding on a private thing. “Satya, show me where you’re settin’ up the sentry turrets? Got a couple a things might help.” Fortunately she nodded and he followed her out. 

Wind still howling; was cold enough to feel like his nostrils froze. His lungs ached with it. Fuck - didn’t think he’d ever been this cold. Wished he’d brought a scarf. Or mittens. “I’d kill for some mittens,” he mumbled.

Satya ignored him, pointed out the turrets, hidden under the eaves. 

“Guess yer used to the cold, huh,” he said, laughing a little at his own joke and positioning a couple of steel traps - would hold ‘em long enough for the turrets to dispatch ‘em. 

“You think we have not heard these ‘jokes’ before? You think we do not hear the comments?” The scorn in her voice was clear, then took on a mocking echo, sounding surprisingly like McCree, “Quite a match, the Robot and the Ice Queen.”

Junkrat looked up, surprised. “Didn’t mean nothin’ by it,” he said but Satya had stalked away. Shit. Maybe she wouldn’t have a chance to say anything to Mei. Finished rigging the traps and was about to go apologize when he caught sight of Hana motioning him over from the window of a ute. “Let’s go,” she called. Apology’d have to wait. 

As he clambered into the back and squeezed next to Roadhog, Mei gave him a look that said she’d love to take him down with her endothermic blaster. He resisted the urge to shiver, case she took it as another insult. Fuck - just what he needed, a team member least as happy to kill him as Null Sector’d be.

Hana leaned over his seat. “You messed up, dude. What’d you say to Satya, anyway,” she asked, keeping her voice low.

Junkrat glanced at Mei out of the corner of his eye. Seemed to be listening to something Tracer was telling her and paying no attention to him. “Made a little joke ‘bout the cold.”

“You think before you talk? Like, ever?” Lucio shook his head.

Roadhog snorted. “No.”

“Was tryin’ to lighten the mood.” 

“Moron.” 

“Gonna have to agree with Roadhog on this one, man,” Lucio said. “Better stay out of Mei’s line of sight.”

Junkrat slouched down in his seat. How the hell did he keep fucking shit up? A low laugh echoed through his head. It’s not a riddle… you are a fuckup, Jamison. Shut it, he thought. Tracer was saying something about the plan of attack and he needed to listen, to focus, but his thoughts felt cloudy and muddled. He gulped at the rest of his coffee. They clearly should have left you behind. You’re going to fuck this up, too. The only question is, who will get hurt because of you? Junkrat ground his teeth. You know fuck all, he told the voice. Only laughter answered, echoing… 

Suddenly Roadhog elbowed him in the side, and he realized they’d stopped. “Time to go.”

Get it together, he told himself. Gonna do this right. Ain’t no one getting hurt on my watch.

The mountains loomed above, trees pressed close on either side of the path. Light was just beginning to show at the edge of the horizon. Junkrat found himself straining to listen, like if he tried a little harder he’d be able to hear what was coming. Instead only wind whistling in the pines, crunch of their footsteps, thudding of his own heart in his chest, Roadhog’s breath through his mask. 

Sudden rattle of gunshots and the group surged forward, fanning out, Lucio’s sonic amplifier lending them unnatural speed. Adrenaline spiked like a fever. Tracer darted ahead, blinking in and out of sight. They crested a hill and the forest gave way to a small cluster of cabins, like Junkertown shacks.

Metallic scream sliced the air and the battle swept over them. Dozens of omnics - Nullifiers, Slicers, Bastions, OR14s - descended on the clearing from the mountains above. D.Va’s mech fired a round of rockets, Roadhog’s scrap gun rattled, and Junkrat sent a volley of grenades over Mei in the frontline to finish off the B73 Bastion she’d frozen.

“Ha! How’d ya like that, ya fuckin’ bot?” Heart hammered in his throat. Mouth dry. Vision narrowed with focus. Roadhog, always in his peripheral. D.Va. Lucio. Had to keep them covered. Keep them safe. Reload the launcher. Toss the mines. Hard to breathe - air smoky and heavy with gunpowder. Chest aching, head aching. Coughed to clear it, but didn’t help much. Blinked sweat out of his eyes. When had it gotten warm? Reload. Fire. Where was D.Va? Someone shouting, couldn’t make out words.

Tracer raced past, dropped her pulse bomb, winked out of sight as another B73  exploded right where she’d been. The concussive blast knocked him back, made his ears ring. Lost one already… better hope she’s more attentive than you’ve been.  Shook his head once, sharply. D.Va had to be okay, had to be nearby, just out of his line of sight. Wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist. Lucio’s music pulsed, lending him strength. Reload. Fire. Bag was getting dangerously light. Tried to figure how many grenades left, how many bots, couldn’t be many now, but kept losing track.

Roadhog’s hook flashed out, yanked in a Nullifier, finished it with a shot to the head. Bot’s carcass dropped and Roadhog hooked another, dropping it just as quick. Junkrat grinned - watching the Hog work was a thing of beauty. 

Then - flash of pink at the edge of his vision. D.Va’s mech, Lucio beside her, holding their own with fusion cannons and sonic amplifier against a handful of Slicers. Her mech was looking a little worse for wear, but nothing’d penetrated its shell. See, fuckin’ told ya she’d be fine. Rush of relief so strong left him a little dizzy. 

“Fall back,” Tracer’s voice above the fray. “Back!”

“What’dya mean? Ain’t finished ‘em off yet!” 

“No questions. She’s in command,” Mei snapped, following Tracer, D.Va and Lucio back toward the ute.

Screw command - not gonna let any fuckin’ bots escape an’ attack someone else.  Working fast he pieced together the few things left in his bag. Handful of grenades, a concussion mine, bit of ammonium nitrate. Rigged up a trap across the path the others had taken. Gonna be a corker of an explosion.

“Rat!” Roadhog’s voice at his left, harsh. Junkrat looked up and straight into the fusion driver of a OR14. Fuck. 

Who would have thought you’d be the one getting hurt… taunting wisp through his thoughts. Fuck I am; ain’t gonna cark it to a goddamn bot. Heard Hog jamming the toploader onto his gun and dumping in the last of his ammo. Had to time it just right. 

The gun roared, knocked the bot off center, scent of plasma burning his nose as the OR’s shot missed him by a hair. Had to be enough room, wasn’t gonna get another chance. Clenched his teeth, took a deep breath, gonna be close, dropped his special concussion mine, stepped on the pressure cap with his peg leg and detonated.

The air cracked and the blast launched him into the sky, backwards, away from the OR14 and the trap he’d laid. The force was as exhilarating as it was disorienting and he laughed as he flew, high pitched, manic giggles. He came down hard on ankle and peg but Roadie’s hand was on his arm, steadying him and then they were running together back up the path as another whumping explosion echoed and a gout of flame shot high above the cabins, warmth and smoke enveloping them. Tossed one glance back over his shoulder and the beauty of the sight nearly brought a tear to his eyes. Nothing left of the bots but twisted lumps of metal. Perfection.

[thethistlegirl]

Hold On

@sky-larking requested a fic about hand-holding...and I ended up doing a 5+1 because I had too many ideas to fit in one fic...

+1 (part 1)

They don’t know when Jack is going to wake up. The hit he took to the head before being bundled into a car and sent off to his intended death at the bottom of a cliff was hard enough to make a man who normally laughs off concussions as pale and still as a corpse.

Mac sits in a Romanian hospital and holds Jack’s hand. Everything he did, he did for me. If he dies, it will be because of me. Matty told him she’s found out that Mareks was spying on Mac. That Jack did what he did to keep Mac safe.

He risked his life for me, and I’ve been holding him at arms’ length for months. Mac can’t leave Jack’s side, not for anything. What if he never wakes up? What if I never get to tell him I’m sorry? What if I never get the chance to thank him for not giving up on me?

1

The time, the explosion isn’t Mac’s fault. Jack can find an odd source of humor in that, even as they plummet to what might be their deaths in a jet with a giant hole in its side. Nope, this time the rogue terrorist cell of the week decided to make a cliche dramatic exit in style. Leaving Mac and Jack with a plane full of barrels of radioactive sludge and a bomb ready to explode on impact.

He’d probably still be making jokes, despite the situation, if he wasn’t currently trying to talk the kid down from the biggest panic attack Jack’s seen him have since the Sandbox.

Granted, if Jack doesn’t keep hanging on and find a way to pull them both back to a spot where they’re not actively being sucked out of the hole to their doom, Mac is going to fall to his death. Mac yelled that all they had to do was wait for the pressure to equalize inside the cabin and this would stop, but that was before the plane hit an air pocket, lurched, and flung him too close to the opening.

Now the kid’s clinging to Jack’s hand for dear life, tears slipping down his face from closed eyes. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay, I got you,” Jack says.

And then the pull of pressure isn’t as strong, and Jack’s able to pull Mac back into the relative safety of the plane. The kid’s shaking violently, and Jack pulls him into a hug. Mac holds it for a few moments, but then pushes Jack away and starts moving toward the front of the plane. Because they still have a crisis to stop.

2

It was supposed to be an easy mission. In and out, retrieve a flashdrive and walk away.

And for once, freaking once, it was actually true. No, the reason Jack is sitting in the back of the exfil van, thinking his hand might be the next thing to need a cast after the medics are done setting Mac’s leg, is the kid’s own clumsy nature.

They were out of the facility, with the flashdrive, and enjoying a nice leisurely stroll through the mountains where the secret base had been, to the exfil coordinates. Mac as usual was being infuriatingly good at it, teasing Jack whenever he got winded scrambling over rocks and downed trees. In Jack’s defense, he argued every time, he’d been the one who fought off ten guys while Mac found a way to bypass the security doors. Okay, maybe it was more like five guys, but still…

Jack’s stomach was beginning to complain a little louder than the blisters on his heels when it happened. One minute Mac was climbing a small bluff to check their location, the next the kid was rolling down scarily fast. Jack heard the crack when he slammed to a stop against a boulder near the bottom.

By the time he got to the kid, Mac was panting, reaching for his leg but looking afraid to touch it. Jack could already tell they were dealing with a broken bone. At least it’s the lower part of his leg, not the femur. Jack doesn’t think the kid would have been able to make it out of that was the case.

Together they’d rigged up a decent improvised splint and based on what Mac had managed to see before falling, found exfil. And now, letting his hand be slowly crushed in the kid’s pained grasp, Jack can finally relax.

3

“Jack?”

“What?”

“Did you know that you can make decent night vision goggles out of low-light security cameras?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Oh.”

“Only because you told me five minutes ago.”

Jack shakes his head at the concussed, confused kid he’s currently dragging through the halls of the secure facility they’re breaking out of. Jack’s fairly confident he can get them out; it would be easier if Mac was functioning at normal capacity but the last time they were interrogated, the kid took one too many hard hits to the head.

“Oh.” Mac tugs at Jack’s hand. “My ribs hurt. Can we stop running?”

My ribs hurt...yeah, cause you’ve probably got two or three busted ones. Jack shakes his head at the kid’s pain tolerance. Even concussed and loopy he downplays whatever’s wrong.

“No, I’m sorry, we can’t.” Jack locks his hand a little tighter around Mac’s wrist and drags him down a hallway, trying to ignore the approaching pounding boots in the hallway behind them. Just a little farther…

4

The world is blurry and full of smoke and pain when Jack wakes up. He shakes his head slowly, fighting the sudden sick feeling. It’s more than the concussion, more than the pain from his leg trapped under the dashboard of the secure transport vehicle.

It’s the thought that that maniac might have his partner again. The last thing Jack remembers is seeing Murdoc walking up to the vehicle he just flipped with a grenade launcher, smiling down at Mac. And then he blacked out.

His whole body hurts , and he can’t really turn his head because of the way he’s trapped in the car. So instead he reaches out with his right hand and feels along the crushed metal and broken glass, ignoring the pain. Mac. He has to make sure Mac is okay.

When he feels the seat material but no warm body he panics. The harsh breaths burn in his throat from the smoke. And then a trembling hand twists fingers into his. Jack relaxes as he feels familiar calluses and scars. Mac is still here. Murdoc hasn’t stolen him away again. They’re going to be all right.

5

Jack has the feeling he’s seen this in a movie before. If he could remember which one he’d be making references like crazy right now...was it Indiana Jones, maybe...but at the moment he’s a little more preoccupied with getting away from the guerilla militia that want to kill them.

He’s pretty sure these guys won’t follow them if they jump what looks like three stories off this waterfall. But he’s also pretty sure the reason is that these guys don’t want to commit suicide.

“Mac, any better ideas?”

Mac shakes his head. “They’re closing in from all sides. I think it’s our best bet. And if we can stay out of the immediate area of the waterfall hopefully we’ll be able to avoid getting sucked under by the current and drowning.” But the kid’s voice is shaking. He doesn’t want to jump, not that far.

“That’s very reassuring. I was kinda hoping the fall would kill us first.”

“It’s only about twenty-five feet. We’re not gonna die...unless the water is really shallow.”

“Thanks.” Jack grabs Mac’s hand. “One, two, three, go? Or go on three?”

And then a shot cracks into the tree beside them, and Jack pulls Mac over the edge, screaming “Threee!” as they plunge to the water below.

+1 (part 2)

Mac’s falling asleep in spite of himself when he feels Jack’s fingers tighten around his. He sits up with a start, knocking his head against the IV stand and wincing.

Jack blinks blearily, then turns his head to glance at Mac. “We lived, huh?” He asks, voice raspy.

“Yeah, we did.” Mac feels like crying with relief.

“I’m getting too old for this,” Jack grumbles. “I may not be the genius of this operation, but I’d like to keep the few brains I’ve got from being scrambled, ya know?”

Mac begins to chuckle. Jack is okay. We’re going to be just fine. Because Jack already knows how Mac feels. And he’s just reminding him that nothing’s changed. It’s still the two of them against the world, the way it’s always meant to be.

[mrleopard25]

James Bond Series Revisited: SPECTRE (2015)

Directed by Sam Mendes

Starring Daniel Craig, Christoph Waltz, Ralph Fiennes, and Léa Seydoux

           Yes, this has taken years to complete, and for that I apologize. In part it was due to me seeing the film during its opening run and then not again until very recently. I like to be fairly familiar with the film before giving it my full thoughts. Also I like hearing what other people had to say, and well...some of it wasn’t so kind. But I’ve also gone through each of the other Bond films in deep analysis so, like Quantum of Solace, maybe I could give the film a better appraisal. Was it terrible? Was it great? Well...

           The film opens on Bond engaging in some good old fashioned espionage in Mexico City, during the Day of the Dead celebrations. Some nefarious types are meeting in a hotel room talking about bombing a stadium, and Bond decides he’s going to assassinate all these guys. They get wise to the attempt at the last second and several explosions later, the block is leveled. But Bond’s target, a man named Sciarra, survives and decides he’s going to escape Bond by the most inconspicuous way he can think of: a helicopter in a crowded town square. Bond’s having none of that, takes his octopus ring, and shoves him out of the helicopter.

           But uh oh – why was Bond even there? That’s what M wants to know because, from his point of view, a vacationing agent demolished a couple city blocks and did some aerial tricks in a helicopter above several thousand people. So M wants an explanation, but Bond gives him nothing. This is especially frustrating, as there is a new centralized intelligence agency, the Joint Intelligence Service headed by a man named C, that wants to merge with MI6 and has made no secret about wanting to shut down the 00 program. Why? Because it’s the future!

           Meanwhile, Bond reveals to Moneypenny that M, the last M, sent him one of those tapes that says “If you’re seeing this, that means I’m dead, so do this because I’m dead.” Unfortunately M has grounded Bond, but Bond also enlists Q to help him out, and soon Bond has gone to Rome to go to Sciarra’s funeral. He makes an acquaintance of Sciarra’s wife, and later that night saves her from assassination. In response, she informs him of where he can take that octopus ring.

           Bond finds himself at a meeting of a clandestine organization engaged in operating terrorist activities around the globe. The leader of the organization notices Bond is there, and soon Bond has to go on the run through the streets of Rome. Based on some word clues, Moneypenny informs Bond that this organization has ties to Mr. White. Bond tracks him down to a remote cabin where he finds the man dying. Bond gets some information about this organization, SPECTRE, and their involvement in global affairs. White makes Bond swear to protect his daughter, then commits suicide.

           Bond finds his daughter, Madeline Swann, as a doctor in a special treatment clinic in the mountains. He reveals her father’s fate and her role in this, and she spurns him. On his way out, he bumps into Q, who is feeling chagrinned at working with Bond illegally. Bond gets Q to identify some DNA samples on the ring (not sure why they’re there), and we get links to all the previous Craig movie. More on that later.

           SPECTRE tries to abduct Swan and a long chase sequence ensues. After recovering Swann, she takes Bond to a hotel that White used to take his family to, as Bond believes White left information there. Bond tears the room apart, and eventually finds a hidden room that contains information detailing Quantum / SPECTRE activities, including coordinates to a secret base in the Sahara.

           Travelling there by rail, Bond and Swann get to know each other a little better, but this is interrupted by Hinx, a SPECTRE assassin, who nearly succeeds in killing them both. After finishing him off, the pair arrive at the SPECTRE base where they are confronted by the leader, Franz Oberhauser – the son of the man who took Bond in after the death of Bond’s parents. Oberhauser killed his father and staged his own death, and has lay hidden as SPECTRE’s leader, calling himself Ernst Stavro Blofeld. Blofeld lays out his objective in overseeing the new global intelligence community, and how C is one of his agents. He then decides to torture Bond by drilling into his brain. Luckily, Bond has an exploding watch that allows him to escape and destroy the compound.

           Returning to the UK, Bond meets up with the remains of the 00 program: M, Tanner, Q, and Moneypenny.  Their goal is to dismantle the intelligence network before it is activated, and time is running out. Unfortunately, Blofeld kidnaps Swann and keeps  her tied up in the old MI6 headquarters, which are rigged to blow. The former MI6 teams now has a limited amount of time to stop Blofeld, C, and SPECTRE.

           So SPECTRE isn’t a bad movie. If anything, it’s biggest flaw is that it follows Skyfall. But it’s also not a great film, and I’m pretty sure it boils down to the script. Sam Mendes returns to directing, but we’re missing the fantastic cinematography of Roger Deakins, and he is sorely missed. Not to say that Hoyte van Hoytema is a bad DOP; certainly his work on Interstellar and Dunkirkwas fantastic, but there was something visually stylistic that was missing, and this film just feels like it was filmed as a normal action film.

           But on to the script. There are some things taken as granted in the script that rub people the wrong way, myself included. First is that we had a build up in the first two Craig films about an organization called Quantum, that was clearly supposed to be the reboot’s version of SPECTRE at the time. And I was fine with that. It seemed to have the same goals and methods, but be updated for the 21st century. Now we learn that Quantum was really taking orders from SPECTRE this whole time. That could have been an interesting development, if it made sense. But it doesn’t. It only really seems to be done because Blofeld has an anger-boner for Bond. For the fourth movie in a rebooted franchise, having Blofeld be the evil mastermind behind all of it just because he has daddy issues is not good enough for me.

           Second are the leaps in logic that serve only to move the story. I really didn’t know how Bond located White’s cabin so quickly. There’s a reference that the Pale King is actually Mr.White, and he was last spotted in some certain place, and then we cut to Bond finding this remote outpost. The average audience member might forgive this, but I found it nonsensical in how fast it happened.

           Very glaring is C, played by Andrew Scott (perhaps best known as Moriarty in the BBC Sherlock series). Nobody was fooled by his betrayal, and I think the story would have been better served by this being a genuine surprise that he was working for SPECTRE. I don’t want to denigrate Scott as an actor, but I really feel that he was cast because he has such a sinister presence, not because it would service the story.

           And finally is a scene at Blofeld’s Sahara compound where we get a twist on the cliché. Blofeld goes to explain his whole evil plan to Bond, but Bond just explains it to him instead. Blofeld kind of nods and smiles, and basically says “Yeah you got it.” Now, I am completely for us bypassing this cliché, but the way it was written, it seemed more like the movie was getting impatient with itself.

           I don’t want to harp on the film too much, because it’s certainly far from the worst in the franchise. And although it’s easy to only focus on the things you don’t like in the movie, we shouldn’t forget the good stuff.

           Right at the beginning of the film, we get a great long shot of travelling through Mexico City, which must have included some fantastic trickery, including getting on and off cranes and going through false walls. That whole opening sequence is pretty stellar. This is then paired with an unfortunate credit sequence which borders on uncomfortable the entire time. Apparently Radiohead was involved at some point to do the opening theme but this fell through. The song, “SPECTRE”, is a dark and moody piece with some moments of levity, but has a very grand and sweeping cinematic feel to it (and fits in amazingly with the “A Moon Shaped Pool” tracks they were working on at the time). The replacement, “The Writing’s On The Wall” by Sam Smith is too much for me. The verses work all right, but then he keeps hitting this painful falsetto in the chorus. Meanwhile some of the imagery is great, but then we get some nutty allusions to tentacle porn. It’s a shame, because the title sequence is always a golden opportunity to set the stage for the film.

           We are given some interesting questions at this point, and that is: what is the role of the 00 program in the 21stcentury? Skyfall gave us a pretty good answer about using raw tools against advanced technology, but this film picks up that thread by asking what if the good guys have that advanced technology? Do we still need the blunt instruments? C brings up a good point – why use assassins when it’s more effective to destroy their reputation and limit their resources? Don’t make them a martyr, and instead let them fade into obscurity. Remove their power. We do see this with White. He wasn’t killed at the end of Casino Royale, while he was a powerful and influential man, and was allowed to degrade into a recluse with very little standing. Sadly, we really don’t get much discussion about this topic, as the movie goes through the same motions as the last few, wherein the blunt instrument Bond just blows everything up and wins.

           Continuing on the theme of technology, watch this film against an older Bond film, and the filmmakers made a logical and interesting use of cell phones. Sometimes you’ll watch a film and if it’s an older film, you are chagrinned that so many of the issues that could be solved with a quick call on a cell phone, or if it’s a newer film you might be shouting at the screen to make a quick phone call and fix the issue. This film does not have this issue, as it uses the technology of the day appropriately.

           There are a few chase sequences in this film, and those are Bond staples, but the real task was to make them interesting and compelling. And it’s successful! These were great chases with some inventive ideas, and even a way to incorporate some useful information via a phone call with Moneypenny thrown in.

           My final point I want to touch on is casting, and this is the most complicated issue. Daniel Craig continues to really seize the role of Bond and own it. The screenwriters and Craig continue to develop the psychological destruction of Bond was a sure treat. After Bond has demolished the suite at the hotel, we see him devolve into a drunk just barely hanging on to sanity. He is used to being an unstoppable force, and when that doesn’t seem to be the answer, he begins to lose cohesion with his psyche. Seeing the mouse scuttle on the floor, a weak animal that lives under cover of darkness, amuses him and challenges him – especially when it gives away the location of the room. Going on with that thought, whenever we see Bond lose composure, it can make the scene gripping.

           The supporting cast are mostly very good. Fiennes is an excellent M in this film, and Harris as Moneypenny has the type of relationship with Bond that we expect, in that it borders on romantic, but never gets going. But it’s more realistic than the condescending / paternal relationship that the Bond / Moneypenny relationship danced in the original run. Bautista as Mr. Hinx is brutal. As with his other roles, he conveys a real presence while on screen and his punches look like they hurt. There is a raw masculinity and physicality in his motions, and it really creates an impression. Naturally the fight scene on the train is reminiscent of the fight with Red Grant in From Russia With Love. That has to be one of the best homages.

           Christoph Waltz delivers despite some pretty bad dialogue given to him. His allusion to Bond as a cuckoo chick, with him making cuckoo noises to taunt him are a little grating and not at all sinister. Where Waltz delivers is in his mannerisms and the cold in his eyes, and he has such amazing potential to really develop further as Blofeld. Again though, his character is undermined by the lackluster motivation of daddy issues.

           Also, during the big SPECTRE meeting, we get a call back to previous SPECTRE members in the last run with two characters who seem to be visual callbacks to Klebb and Mr. Big. I actually had to double check IMDb to see if the characters had actually been named that.

           But now for the elephant in the room: Léa Seydoux as Swann. I haven’t seen Seydoux in anything else, so I really am not qualified to give a review of her as an actor in general (although apparently she was good in Blue Is The Warmest Colour). And it is not without precedent to have a French girl in a Bond film. But there’s two ways in which her character portrayal lets the film down, and I’m not sure if its her fault or Mendes’. The first is that she has no chemistry with Craig. I don’t at any point buy their relationship, either romantically or sexually. There is no fizzle between them. There was something really serious and real with Eva Green in Casino Royale. And secondly is her stoicism with her father. I never really came away with the sense of her emotional state towards her father, and that should have been a major component of her character. She should have extremely complex feelings towards him. She should love him dearly but have an anger at him for bringing so much death and destruction into her life. It should drive her character.

           Okay, so let’s break this film down.

Mission Completed?

           Bond was grounded after failing to have a vacation. He received an unofficial mission near the end to stop the launch of Nine Eyes, the global intelligence network. The MI6 team really kind of did it all together to be honest.  

Dastardly Scheme

           So by using a subsidiary organization, Quantum, SPECTRE has been achieving two goals: one to slowly convince world governments to reconcile their intelligence services into one network, and the second to slowly convince the British government that the MI6 agency (in particular the 00 program) is obsolete and to disband it.

           SPECTRE mostly succeeded, but was undermined by Blofeld’s endless pursuit of Bond.

Best Buds

           The entire MI6 team stands behind Bond and helps him out whenever they can. Naomie Harris continues in her support of Bond as Moneypenny, being a reliable source of information to keep him moving. Ben Whishaw steps up as Q, going into the field to lend forensic aid to Bond, and even getting involved in a chase sequence himself. He really should be more careful out there. Bill Tanner and M also show up at the end to take a hands on approach to stop the Nine Eyes.

The Bad Guy and His Goon

           I already spoke about Christoph Waltz’s cold portrayal of Ernst Stavro Blofeld, a man who uses humour to mask his insane revenge plot and obsession with having eyes everywhere. Waltz is supremely charismatic, even if some of his writing is subpar.

           Dave Bautista plays Mr. Hinx, an assassin who fills a vacancy in SPECTRE for being the go-to for dispatching enemies. Again, I’m a big fan of Bautista, as each role I’ve seen him in is completely unique. He’s strong but funny in Guardians Of The Galaxy, and strong but tragic in Blade Runner 2049. I almost wish we saw more character from him here because his portrayal is just... strong and brutal?

           An interesting take on a villain role is Andrew Scott as C, head of the Joint Intelligence Service, but not because of his portrayal. It’s because he is an antagonist for M, not Bond. His arc revolves around M, and the conflict is with M. It is resolved through M’s actions and confrontations. That’s a welcome addition.

Booty Snatched

           Two again. The first was Sciarra’s wife, Lucia, played by Monica Bellucci. She had been a name floating around the franchise for years but only now has finally landed as a Bond girl. She’s the oldest woman cast in such a role, but you know what? It really doesn’t matter – she absolutely fits the profile. Bond gives her a contact to help her get out of the country and into safety and... hey what happened with that? Did she make it?

           The second was with Swann, after they dispatch Hinx. Apparently there is no bigger turn on than barely surviving a big sweaty fight. Well...and her dress.

Baddies Dispatched

           An astounding 31 killed by Bond, a strong percentage of which during his escape from the SPECTRE compound.

Gadgets Trashed

           Bond dumps his car into a canal in Rome, after exhausting all the bonus options. He then hijacks a plane to chase down Swann’s kidnappers, and thoroughly demolishes it. And finally his watch explodes spectacularly. I would actually be really hesitant to wear something with that much yield on my wrist.

It Goes BOOM

           Eight explosions, including an absolutely spectacular fireball in the middle of the Sahara.

You Misogynistic Pig

           I realize as someone who must use every tool at his disposal to save the world, this falls in line with Bond’s objective, but it still feels really slimy that he immediately sets his sights on, follows home, and seduces Lucia on the day of her husband’s funeral.      

White Man’s Burden

This is a weird one. While this film was being made, there were no such Day of the Dead celebrations in Mexico as depicted in the film. It’s really reminiscent of  Carnival in Brazil with Day of the Dead imagery thrown in but apparently Mexico City was so enamored with the idea of it, it’s actually become a real celebration in this manner in recent years.

Best Line

           “Your word?! The word of an assassin?!” White is incredulous that Bond is promising anything, much less protecting someone.

Worst Line

           “He’s everywhere – everywhere! He’s sitting at your desk, he’s kissing your lover, he’s eating supper with your family!” White, during the same scene, trying to beef up how scary a villain Blofeld is. It’s too hammy and making Blofeld sound like a metaphysical demon stalker isn’t intimidating, it’s a cartoon.

Bond Moment

           During a fight scene at the clinic, one of the security guys gets up and approaches Bond. Bond gives him a look, raises his hand and says “No! Stay!” The man immediately obeys, probably seeing it’s not worth the trouble.

Special Awards:

Another Number:

           Bond’s car (Aston Martin DB10) was to be reassigned to 009, who apparently has questionable tastes.

Scrooge McDuck’s Heir:

           Blofeld is so rich, he has a massive compound in the middle of the Sahara desert with a fully landscaped and maintained yard, that is fully staffed with enough supplies to easily sustain at least a hundred people, with the most cutting edge technology at their disposal.

Worst Spy Ever:

           When M is grilling Bond at the beginning of the movie about why Bond just blew up Mexico City, it is painfully obvious Bond is lying which forces M to ground him, hindering his objective. Bond really should have brought M in on it – the last film already established Bond could trust him.

    Lately there’s been a question as to whether or not we still need to have the Bond franchise, and what it should look like. “Why can’t Bond be a black man?” some say. Others press on and say “Why can’t Bond be a woman?” And it’s really hard to argue against that when you have mediocre movies as evidence.

    And that’s what this film is: an average Bond film at best. The film fails in its script and execution, but succeeds in some of its themes, acting, and quiet moments. So what do I think about radically changing the Bond franchise? I’m really against it, but hear me out.

    Bond is a depiction of toxic masculinity. He’s an embodiment of it. Those who glorify him as someone to aspire to miss the point entirely. When Bond films are done well, we get the image of a man who can not hold himself together when he has time to himself. So he perpetually endangers his life. The irony is he hates his job. He drinks himself to numb his pain at having love only once, and having that love taken away from him by his work. He uses people for his ends, and his ends are the tool of a government he’s not even that attached to.

    The best Bond films explore this. Even this film shows some of it, in that scene at the hotel with the mouse. Bond is a man who needs to be in control at all times, but drinks himself stupid. He is a white male because he is the worst of the white males. He’s a killer, a tool by a higher power playing by old rules, a man who does not value life, he hates every minute of it, but he will never leave it. The end of this film shows him and Swann leaving together, but that’s part of what makes this movie so unsatisfying – it’s not a logical end point and seems tacked on.

    The Bond films aren’t glorifying the lifestyle; they’re a warning. At least... they should be.

2.5 / 5

[lordmaurice]

Top 10 Fallout 3 Quests

I recently did a play through of Fallout 3 for the first time in a couple years and it inspired me to make a ranking of my favorite quests. There will be spoilers. I tried doing an evil play through as I’ve never played fallout 3 with a very evil karma before. This is just gonna be vanilla fo3 quests.

Honorable Mention to the Replicated Man & Tenpenny Tower, two quests I greatly enjoy and barely missed the list.

 10. Those!

I liked the abrupt, ominous start to this quest. A random child, Bryan, runs up to me while strolling around the wasteland and starts talking about his town being attacked by some mysterious creature. After finding the town infested with fire breathing ants and the kids father dead, I find a makeshift laboratory in a shed next door and notes on a terminal directing me to the source of the fire ants so I can exterminate them. Pretty solid way to start a quest, got me invested.

I opted not to kill the queen fire ant, dealing with only the nest guardians and returning to Dr. Lesko so I could get some of that sweet sweet Ant Might. The ending of the quest required me to find a home for Bryan. The game gives a decent amount of options for this but since I was being a naughty boy this time around, I went down to my boy Eulogy Jones in Paradise Falls and sold Bryan into a life of slavery.

Overall, a quality quest with a variety of ways to go about it.

 9. Agatha’s Song

Agatha’s house is a quaint little home tucked away in the north of the map. This is one of the times I sacrificed my evil karma for a quest. Agatha is a charming old widow who simply wants me to find a violin for her. She lets me know of a vault which once held the nation’s best musicians, and informs me that there I can find her ancestor’s violin in pristine condition. This led me to finding Vault 92 just south of deathclaw city.

Vault 92 was an interesting place to explore with an interesting story to tell. Through a series of holotapes and terminals, we’re able to piece together yet another disturbing vault experiment, causing vault dwellers to lose their mind. After fighting through a shit ton of mirelurks, I find the violin and return it to Agatha. While there is no physical reward for completing the quest, the reward of getting Agatha’s radio station and being able to hear the violin you rescued is enough of a reward.

Overall, a spooky romp through a sinister location with a heartwarming conclusion

 8. Reilly’s Rangers

I found Reilly on a hospital bed in Underworld, the only other non-ghoul in the settlement. I woke her up with a medicine check and she began going on about her team of badass shooter dudes and how they got fucked up by some super mutants. She told me that her team was holed up on the roof of a hotel and was in desperate need of rescuing. She gave me the passcode for her home base for some reason and sent me off to take her things and save her friends.

This quest offered some good old fashioned super mutant slaughter. Almost reminiscent of a Fallout 4 quest, but in a good way. I fought my way up the floors of a hospital and crossed a fallen radio tower to access the upper levels of the hotel, eventually fighting a super mutant overlord before finally reaching the roof. I saved the epic team and thankfully had a fissure battery on me to repair the elevator. We escaped and I returned to Reilly to get a beefy ass minigun named Eugene.

Overall, an action packed rescue with a solid reward

 7. Trouble On The Homefront

And so we go back to where it all started. Going back to Vault 101 after being locked out ever since level 1 was awesome. I received a distress signal from Amata, informing me that the new Overseer is insane and they need help. I walked back through the familiar gate and strolled back into my old stomping grounds. Upon arrival, and after chatting with some familiar faces, I found out about the two ideologies battling it out in the vault. Amata wants to open up the vault and the overseer wants to keep it closed.

When I approached Amata and she told me to convince the overseer to open the vault and not to kill him, I knew that I was going to kill him. I popped him between the eyes and Amata told me I needed to go. It was pleasant being able to interact with the tutorial characters after gaining some experience in the wasteland, and although there is no tangible reward, being able to take Butch as a companion is a nice addition. There are many ways to complete this quest and takes into account the initial choice of killing or sparing the overseer that the player encounters during the tutorial.

Overall, a fascinating trip down memory lane

 6. Stealing Independence

Whilst roaming the halls of Rivet City, I stumbled upon the Capitol Preservation Society. Here I found Abraham Washington, a brilliant historian who wants me to retrieve the Declaration of Independence from the national archives to preserve in his glorious museum. After arriving at the archives, I found a girl named Sydney fighting off some super mutants. I helped her kill them and then promptly shot her in the head and took her epic gun.

After fighting through a barrage of super mutants, mister gutsies and sentry bots, I came across a true patriot, Button Gwinnett, a Protectron who believes he is a founding father. After convincing him that I am Thomas Jefferson, he decided to take a long nap and allowed me to snag the document I craved. I was also able to pick up the Bill of Rights and Magna Carta while I was there. After bringing the documents back to Abraham Washington, I received a nice amount of caps and the schematics to build the railway gun.

Overall, a fun history lesson with a rad robot

 5. Wasteland Survival Guide

This is always the first side quest I tackle in Fallout 3 and this play through was no different. I sauntered into Craterside Supply and Moira sent me off on my first set of objectives. Each objective gives great opportunities for early experience and opens up the world early.

This is the perfect introductory quest for an open world RPG. It sends the player all around the map, providing them with solid loot, and lets them experiment with numerous mechanics, enemies, and locations all under the guise of creating a survival guide for the world you're exploring. It’s a multi-faceted quest with three sets of three objectives, leading to many opportunities to gain experience and learn about the Capital Wasteland.

Overall, a goddamn classic

 4. The Superhuman Gambit

I love this quest. Utter and pure fun and creativity. Upon first walking into Canterbury Commons, I witnessed a battle of epic proportions. The Antagonizer, a villainous ant commanding fiend, and the Mechanist, a robot commanding superhero, briefly argued before battling their minions and running off in different directions. After talking to the townsfolk and learning about their disdain for the two super-bozos, I was tasked with returning peace and justice to Canterbury Commons.

I started off by visiting the Antagonizer. After fighting through her ants, I reached the fiend herself and convinced her to give up her life of crime with my eloquent speech. She gave me her suit and fled. I then paid the Mechanist a visit. I decided to allow him to continue his delusional superhero antics and traded the Antagonizers suit with him for his swanky laser pistol. While this isn’t the longest quest, there are so many ways to approach it and its humor and lighthearted fun makes it a constant joy to play.

Overall, a superhuman war that only you can stop

 3. Oasis

After wandering through the grey, dead wasteland for so long, stumbling upon the lush, vegetated forest of Oasis is absolute joy. Upon first arriving I am whisked inside by some tree people and told that I have been summoned by some unnamed powerful character. After being forced to take some psychedelics, I wake up in a gorgeous, green grove. Here is where I find Harold, a man in a tree who has lived for hundreds of years. The tree people believe he is a God, but he informs me that he is simply a man inside of a tree. He has one request for me: death. He craves a release from his stationary existence, and I oblige. He informs me that I can find his heart underground. Harold can be killed on the spot by burning him alive, and although I am doing an evil play through, I’m not that evil.

While on my way to the heart, I overhear the tree people arguing. One wants to stop Harold’s growth so he can stay tucked away and safe while the other wishes to accelerate Harold’s growth and speed up forestation of the wasteland. After fighting my way through the mirelurks beneath Oasis, I arrived at Harold’s heart. I opted to accelerate his growth, as the thought of a vegetated wasteland intrigued me. There are many ways to go about this quest, and it genuinely makes you ponder what the most ethical option is.

Overall, a luscious land with some difficult decisions

 2. The Power of Atom

When I think of Fallout 3, I think of Megaton. The first town of the game is my favorite location. Perhaps the best part about Megaton, is that it can be wiped off the map with a nuclear bomb that’s just chilling in the middle of town. Upon first walking into Megaton, Lucas Sims tasks me with defusing the nuke in the town square once and for all. I smiled and gave a lukewarm thumbs up. After venturing into Moriarty’s Saloon, I encountered Mr. Burke, who tasked me with rigging the bomb to explode. Myself being a no good bad boy gave a devious smirk and agreed.

I met the Burke man at Tenpenny Tower, an elegant hotel in the middle of the wasteland, and met Alister Tenpenny, the man who Burke worked for. I stood on the balcony, pushed a button, and watched the town of megaton explode with a massive explosion, which still looks absolutely gorgeous in 2021. This quest ranks so highly for me because of the massive consequences that branch from this decision.

Overall, the bomb go boom boom kaboom

 1. Tranquility Lane

Whenever I start this quest, I never want it to end. While out hunting for dear dad, we reach Vault 112, and are guided to a simulation pod. Here, we enter Tranquility Lane, a simulation of an American suburb that contains the unknowing minds of the vault’s dwellers. Here we meet Dr. Braun, a sadistic scientist who parades around the simulation as a little girl named Betty. Hearing Bruan and Betty’s voices swap between each other is creepy and awesome.

Braun sends us on a quest to torment the citizens of Tranquility Lane. Each of the objectives he gives us can be completed in a wide variety of ways. All of these horrid acts culminate in the player dressing up like a killer and slaughtering all of the citizens, only for them to be reloaded to be tormented by Braun another day. There is a way to finish the quest without killing anyone or losing karma, as there is a way to access a secret terminal and call in the Chinese soldiers to save the day.

This quest is just ultimately creative and wildly fun. It’s the most enjoyable quest for me to play from start to finish, and has so many creative ways to go about completing each of its objectives.

Overall, a masterpiece quest

That’s gonna do it.

Peace.

[rileywrites-parker]

Tomorrow, He Would Be

Peter Parker x Reader (Peter’s POV)

The fantastic and talented @jedistardust​ requested prompts: 3,4,20,25,94 as part of my follower celebration and specifically requested some angst. (Can’t tell anyone that I don’t deliver.) Her chosen prompts gave me an idea and inspired me to write this sixth and final part to ‘It’s A Lot Like Falling.’ Like the other parts, you can read this as a stand alone, but I promise the read won’t be the same if you haven’t read the other parts first:

Part I  Part II  Part III Part IV Part V  Part VI

Prompts: “I never want to see you again.” “I’ll die without you.” “I’m not ready to say goodbye.” “Don’t you give up on me.” Or in this case: gravity fails you. Or: the moon falls from orbit.

Peter is 22/23.

Warnings: You’re not going to like this.

Somehow, she and Ned had both managed to convince him that going to Times Square for New Years was a good idea. The both of them had been so excited when he’d finally agreed, beaten down by their eagerness; at the way she had described what she imagined millions and millions of fluttering pieces of color and laughter would be like dancing in the cold air, how it would feel to stand in the middle of it all; amidst the lights and sounds of the city enthralled with the night.

She had smiled this sweet, lazy smile as she’d thought of it. She’d thrown her head back, hair shining as it ran over her shoulders like a lazy river, long eyelashes kissing soft cheeks, hands in the air grasping at imaginary confetti as it fell around her; everything about her soft and warm and cozy.

Maybe they were going; if only to see the confetti in her hair.

Ned had him fully convinced a few days later when he talked about how his mother had been to see the ball drop a long time ago; when her heart still beat and her eyes carried this light in them like Ned’s did. She’d told him that it was the most beautiful, life altering thing to be surrounded by so many other warm bodies; people joined together in celebration of the great panorama; another set of painted days alive and here and present. More days to hope, and love, and experience; to feel and to change, and grow.

Of course they were going; if only to see the smiles on their faces.

They’d planned the whole day out carefully: layering long sleeve shirts, sweaters, and jackets; it was a bitterly cold one. It was the kind of day that made you hold hands and push into warm shoulders, surround yourself in soft, sweatered arms, and push noses into beanies that smelt like flowers and reminded him of spring. She’d spent the whole day with her hand wrapped up in his and smiling at the way Ned and his girlfriend were doing the same. He’d spent the whole day nosing at the hair around her ears and cold, rosy cheeks; all ticklish strands and ticklish words.

Truthfully, the packs of people, hundreds of thousands of jittery bodies had his nerves standing on end; the sounds of so many hearts, breaths, and voices in his overly-sensitive ears building and sticking together to create one large, buzzing noise in his skull. There were so many people, so many different things that could go wrong; it was too cramped, it was too loud, and it was crushing.

He was even more nervous because he had left his suit in their apartment; had hung it up and tucked it away in the closet to only be put back on in a new year.

He had wanted to be Peter Parker today, Peter Parker only.

But God, if it didn’t feel wrong. She knew his brain was a chaotic mess of worry, knew that he was reaching his limit, as she always did. Her hands were at the back of his neck, rubbing in soothing circles the moment she’d felt his muscles stiffen, when she felt them coil against her, reaching max tensile strength as his patience did. She would rub and Ned would smile, distracting him with jokes, familiar laughter, practiced and comfortable routine. He and Ned’s girlfriend would just watch and admire the brilliant sources of light illuminating their lives; two suns beaming; there was no resisting the pull of gravity. The ball at the top of the One Times Square building sat atop its pedestal, reflecting sunlight off of it, regal and shiny as it waited; the star attraction for tonight’s sky. Truthfully, he was excited to see her enact her musings on color and paper and the air in person. It would be a memory he would catalogue into all things [Y/N.] When the sun went down and more people showed, music started playing from the stages and he could relax despite the energy of the crowd growing; everyone moving and excited by the pulse of instruments and the charge in the air. And there was a charge in the air, it was electric and it stung, but in that way that started your heart and got it going. The smiles, her smile, and the way the different colors from all of the screens and flashing lights from stages and buildings taller than he was used to, played with the base colors of her skin and hair, changing them into these brand new, unnamed hues that reminded him of street lamps and snowflakes on eyelashes. He was so caught up in the magic of the lights and colors and warmth that he had hardly noticed they were only minutes from a new year. He should have noticed. His hair was standing on end and his neck was tight, his heart beating wildly, but he hadn’t noticed for the feeling of the night, his best friend’s shoulder against his, her back on his chest, gloved hands resting on his jacketed arms. He only began to really pay attention to what his body was desperately trying to tell him when he spotted a drone in the night sky, out of place, lights flashing; a few people in the crowd pointing up at the alien invader circling above. If he listened hard enough, he could hear its motors whirring, could hear the camera at its base zooming in and out. Around him the voices of thousands and thousands of men, women, and children pick up, all counting down to a new day. Ten, nine, eight…. He felt a cold chill run down his spine. Six, five, four… His head buzzed and he watched as the drone pulled farther away from the glittering, flashing object that held the whole planet’s gaze. You idiot, you stupid, stupid, fucking idiot. Three, two, one… And then the ball dropped and every color he could think of launched into the air around it. He felt her joy light up his heart. And then the ball exploded, shattered, the shock wave sent all of its pieces flying out into the air. He felt her terror deep in his bones. It was beautiful, really. Every piece of that colored paper she had come to see combusting and catching fire in the air instantly, catching in the heat of the explosion; the light they gave off as they flash-burned was enough to fool everyone into thinking it was daytime; that maybe this was a day dream and not a nightmare. Each broken piece of the ball was floating, shimmering, and shining; a dangerous cloud of a million reflective fireflies lighting up all that was visible for the seconds they seemed to float in space above the heads of thousands of hopeful, terrified people. Then the sound hits his ears: piercing, disorientating, and painful. He would have covered them with his hands but he was too busy shielding her head from the falling debris. He’d pulled her down to a crouch, curling his body around hers and wrapping solid arms around a precious head. He peeked an eye out to see that Ned had done the same with his; brown eyes meeting. They were full of fear, but there was trust there too. He was trusting him to keep them safe from whatever this was. He was Peter. But he was Spider-man, too. If only he had brought his suit. Stupid, stupid, fucking idiot. He hadn’t even brought his web shooters. He had forgotten that Peter Parker and Spider-man are the same person, that they were mutually exclusive; not something he could tuck away in the back of a closet, not even for a day. The next series of blasts sent his body flying backwards, her body ripped from his as the force of the air igniting and combusting hit him full on. When he hit the ground that wasn’t really the ground, but a mass of wriggling, panicked bodies, his eyes immediately searched for her. He found Ned and his girlfriend first, both standing, dust and blood coating their faces from the explosions and the debris from the buildings on either side of the square that the bombs had been rigged in. “Y/N!” He called as loudly as he could. Although he couldn’t really hear anything but ringing.  Despite the overwhelming sounds of screaming, crying, and glass cracking from the heat of the flames burning, his voice had somehow reached her. He saw her perk up immediately twenty or so feet away. She was a bit dirty and a little worse for wear, but she was alive. As his chest pulled towards hers like the moon to the Earth, his body did it again. His hair stood on end, his stomach clenched, and his head felt like a hive. His gut told him to look up and when he did his eyes spotted the drone in the sky. It was withdrawing into the night again, its camera pointing at the building in front of him, the building behind her: the One Times Square building. The screens decorating the buildings around the Square flickered on all at once, sputtering to life with a fizzle and a pixelated pop to reveal a face that was suddenly all he could see, all anyone could see; this man with no hair, a straight nose, dark eyes, and an ugly purple scar that pulled at the lips in a way that made him look like an angry dog. He could hear breathing. Then the man laughed and showed the world what he was seeing through the eyes of his drone. “I am life. I am death. I am man. I am Terror,” a voice, one that sounded like every voice, echoed through the heavy air, imprinting the words into the soft flesh of his brain before the screens cut off again. And then the world ended. One by one, level by level, the windows on the building behind his moon violently ejected their glass into the sky, so many explosives shaking the foundation, so many waves of sound erupting from around her that his ears had simply given up; his brain had given up. A final explosion rang out from the middle of the tower. And then there was no longer just glass in the air, but chunks of concrete and warped, twisted steel falling. Falling. Falling to the ground. She was looking at him, panic in those beautiful eyes. That fucking drone buzzed above it all. He was running before he’d even thought to, stepping on legs, arms, and chests, not really trying to avoid anything for fear that one step too little, one less point of contact for his pumping legs would mean the difference between the light of day and the darkness of night. As he watched the massive, broken pieces free fall, the only thing he could think about was a physics lesson he’d learned a long time ago from a girl with bangs that didn’t quite suit her face and old, dirty tennis shoes. He thought about mass and velocity, he thought about acceleration and the pull that gravity has on an object. The pull that she had on his core was immense, but it wasn’t enough to change his own terminal velocity. It wouldn’t have been enough to prevent the end of the world. But God, how he wished it had. He wasn’t going to make it. She was running too, but it wasn’t going to be enough. Nothing would be enough. Her soul found his and she gave him one last watery smile before his heart stopped and there was nothing anymore. The light of the Earth, the sun, the moon disappeared beneath dusty concrete and twisted metal; snuffed out with no pomp or ceremony; crushed by one of man’s creations; crushed by life, death, and terror. He couldn’t breathe. His heart wasn’t beating. Was he screaming? No, there was no air in him to scream with. It was Ned’s voice bouncing around his head, Ned who was wrapping burning arms around his frozen shoulders. But he couldn’t really feel it, wasn’t truly hearing him. Ned was just the buzzing in his skull, the weights holding him back; so he shoved as hard as he could. He was Peter Parker on this new, terrible, disaster of a day and he didn’t care that anyone saw that other part of him when his numb hands and trembling arms lifted and tossed that crushing thing from her body. He fell to his knees and his heart tore itself out from his chest. There was nothing. He couldn’t bring himself to touch her; what was left of her. There was just a pile of skin and blood, broken bones and cloth. There was no making out who she had been save for the color of her hair, the sweater she’d worn, the blood soaked beanie he’d whispered secret words into hours earlier. There was nothing. I’ll die without you. He doesn’t remember much after that. Just that he somehow ended up back at his apartment, in his bed, wrapped up in his blankets, mind full of screaming and concrete and drones as he stared out his window, at the diner that was still celebrating a Christmas from another year. When he’d come back to himself, he became a man obsessed. He spent minutes, hours, whole days after, playing out imaginary conversations in his head. In his mind, he could pretend it had happened differently. That it hadn’t been so abrupt; that she hadn’t been snatched from him like you ripped a dandelion from the grass; that maybe, instead, she had floated away onto the breeze the way a dandelion does when you make a wish and blow. In his heart of minds, he held her close and his hands brushed silky strands of hair from her face, face that was still whole and a head that wasn’t the soft putty it had been. His mouth found her forehead and her nose and wet eyelids, kissing full lips to keep them from frowning too much. In his imaginings she had been beautiful even in death. “Don’t you give up on me,” make believe him had said to make believe her. She had smiled her sweet smile with tears in her eyes and pain on her brows. But only a little pain, death not the ugly thing like it had been. “OK, Peter,” she’d whispered, promising his lips. Her breath was still warm, flowers in the air. There was no blood in this scene, only shimmering lights, people laughing, and colored paper like butterflies swirling about your heads. He spent minutes, hours, whole days after, looking for the ordinary man with the scar on his lip. Ned begged him to sleep, to eat, to do anything, but he couldn’t and wouldn’t until he found him. Until he could unleash the supernova building inside of his chest; center of gravity condensing to this singular, dense, hot mass of hate. “Peter, come on, man. You can’t do this to yourself. She wouldn’t have wanted this for you,” he’d pleaded in his text messages, his voicemails, “Pete, please, just let me help you.” “Peter, I loved her, too,” he had whispered to the swirling patterns and knots of his locked door when he returned from the memorial service. He hadn’t gone, couldn’t go. I’m not ready to say goodbye. When he did find him, it had happened entirely by chance, kind of like the way she’d died. It found him, like death had found her. It was fitting; poetic justice. He had just put his key into the lock on his car door, metal jingling as the few keys he had clanged together, echoing throughout the darkened parking garage. Someone sneezed. He looked up and his entire world narrowed into this single point in his plane of existence. The ordinary looking man with the unordinary scar was walking towards him, or in his direction rather, carrying a paper bag full of fruits and vegetables. But then he had been destined to walk towards him, right? Fate had decided that for him when she’d disappeared beneath the white. He was a man consumed. He couldn’t control his breathing; at the sight of this man, the way he carried himself, walking like he was as light as a feather, like he hadn’t killed hundreds of people, like he hadn’t killed her, like he truly was ordinary. Instantly, he turned into this wild, desperate, blood lusting thing; this burning, scalding hot image of a man. Every cell, every nerve ending in his body was screaming at him; the fibers inflamed, enraged. He was angry, but more than that, he was rage itself. And then there was nothing again, nothing in his brain but that. So he lost himself to it. He was sprinting, furious breath puffing from his nose in white clouds, feet pounding into concrete, legs and arms clearing cars to get to him. The fight was over before it began. A package of strawberries crinkled as it hit the ground, spilling a few red and fleshy fruits, juice leaking out onto the dirty, blackened ground. And he punched, and hit, and beat, his knuckles pounding against bone, splitting flesh; capillaries busting and spraying his shirt, his throat, his lips and eyelashes with a fine red mist. He was screaming, lungs burning, all of the heat that had engulfed the inferno of his mind scorching the open air with violent notes. He was sobbing, too; salty rivulets streaming down his cheeks; and there was steam. He couldn’t see anymore, didn’t need to see through the blurriness of tears and blood and snot. He didn’t want to see what his fists were doing to this ordinary, disgusting, and wholly terrible man’s life; didn’t want to see how his lips were ripping open; the scar there now even more grotesque as it twisted around the teeth that erupted from glistening red flesh. There was nothing. This was everything. Kill him. She’s dead. And this is wrong because it’s empty and it hurts. Kill him. Hurt. Kill him. Kill. Come on, Spider-man. Come on, Peter. And he punched, and hit, and beat; and his muscles ached as they tensed over and over again. He closed his eyes and tried not to imagine how his knuckles; knuckles that were shooting arrows up his arms, were sculpting this terrible, fucking sick, ordinary man’s face into something pulpy and disfigured; unrecognizable. Come on, Peter. That was her voice. It had been her voice erupting from inside the shadowed valley of his mind, spurred on by the thought of his name, the thought of him; the sound of her caressing his skull and surprising him enough to extinguish some of that burning, burning, burning fire. That voice, that sweet, sweet voice sounded hurt. She was confused. What are you doing, Peter?  It was enough to give him pause, his fists slowing as he listened for more, begged for more, full body aching for just one more word. Peter, she whispered. He whimpered. He squeezed his eyes shut more firmly; thinking that maybe if he squeezed hard enough, wanted hard enough, that she would let him see her again; see her freckles and pink cheeks, warm and alive so that his mind could begin to defrag itself of the way her face had looked last he’d seen her. His fists were frozen, hanging mid-swing, blood dripping from between webs and creases and fingernails. The thing underneath him spluttered and choked, groaning and whimpering. He was nothing. He was everything. He squeezed his eyes harder; they hurt; he had monster blood in them. “Shut up,” he spat, venom in his voice, pushing his knee deeper, more sharply into its chest. He couldn’t miss it, couldn’t miss her. Again? His heart begged. He was full out sobbing when her voice sang out into the ragged edges of the open wound of his mind; sounds like a wounded animal filling the enclosed space, terrifying wailing bouncing from concrete and parked cars all unaware of the universes conversing between dimensions inside of him. Peter. He could feel soft lips at his ear; chapped lips brushing at the fine hairs, her warm breath moist against skin; smelling like whipped cream and hot chocolate. Oh, but it’s Peter, she said, and he understood. He fell over its body and bubbling noises to meet with the ground. Falling. Falling and smashing his shoulder at an awkward angle beneath his body, head smacking against the oil slicked concrete, lights flashing across the screens of his blackened eyes. He collapsed into that universe then, black hole at its center pulling him in, past the event horizon he’d been lingering on the edges of for days. And he cried and cried. He forgot that he lay next to a monster; forgot that he had come close to being a monster himself. But she had stopped him. And he knew now that he could make up her words by himself. That he had done it himself. Peter, you are good, she breathed into the crook of his neck. Peter, you are not a killer, she declared with burning eyes. Peter, I love you, she whispered into his ear. Peter, she moaned into the dark of their room. Even in death she stayed; answering that question. Answering the question that he so wished he had had the courage, or something like it, to have answered back with a long, long time ago. Wished he had written more on that note he left taped to a locker. Wished he could go back to that rusty swing set and thin silk dress on a cold, starry night. But it didn’t matter now, because yesterday she is, and today she was, and so tomorrow he would be. So he pulled himself off of the ground, with bloody knuckles, red wrists, and splattered arms to stand over the body of the monster who was really just a man. A man with no face; not really anymore. He would have more scars to disfigure his face now; ugly companions for the mark that sat on his lip; hardened, ugly flesh for an ugly, blackened heart. He lowered himself to a crouch, his nose inches from the man’s red mask, furrowed his brows and took a deep breath. Two swollen fists clenched stiffly around the fabric of a soaked collar, pulling a limp head up from the concrete; bulbous, purple, swollen nose brushing against his. A squelching, choked sound came from the man’s mouth. “I never want to see you again,” his words were calmer now, less like an animal’s growl, “do you hear me? If I ever even so much as think you might be around, I’ll…” and he felt his face soften, hard lines of his face finally giving up and a dry, humorless, bark of a laugh left his lips. He would what? So he let go of the man’s ruined shirt, let his ruined head smack against the pavement and walked away. He went to his car and finished unlocking the door, as he had been trying to do minutes before the world had ended for a second time. In it, he pulled out a piece of paper and a marker he kept handy for situations just like this one. He left the paper sitting on his chest, sticky blood as an adhesive. ‘I found this for you. He knows what he’s done. No more broken promises.’ He called for an ambulance and closed the car door. He picked up his phone again as the rear tires rolled over the bump at the exit. He answered on the second ring. “Peter,” and he sounded so relieved. So unashamedly, blissfully relieved. He realized then how long it had been since he’d actually really heard his friend’s voice, since he’d listened to the love woven into every syllable. “Ned,” and his voice was barely above a whisper, so low that he almost didn’t even hear himself. “Are you OK, do you need something?” “Ned,” and this time his voice is a little louder, words a little watery. “I need you. I need your help.” “OK, Peter.” And that was enough. Because tomorrow: he would be.

‘After all Things’ - A sequel to ‘It’s A Lot Like Falling’ that picks up a few months after the events of this.

[pjminyng]

Kissing Booth | Somewhat Pure!AU Jdronica

"Don’t really care if I win that giant stuffed animal but keep playing the carnival game you’re running just to see you AU"

Loosely based on the prompt. AKA Westerburg High holds its annual spring fair

High key doesn't remember if I ever posted this before but here it is again if I did.

THE LIBRARY (MASTER-LIST)

Veronica was never one for social events, but ever since she's become friends with the Heathers, she didn't have much of a choice. It's been 9 months since they had become friends. The heathers were still stone hard bitches, but they had slowly begun to rub off on her. Even Heather Duke. Ever since the whole 'accident' had happened at their school, things began to look up. Sure, Heather Chandler, who had died from being drugged at a Remington party is still dead; but after the queen bee had passed, everyone had become nicer; beautiful even.

Kurt and Ram came out as gay, Heather Duke got help for her bulimia and Heather McNamara got math tutoring. Veronica, she had taken Heather Chandler's place, leading the student body, but not in fear and jealousy like the mythic bitch had. Her friendship with Martha and Betty Finn had been mended, the cliques of nerds and jocks began to disappear. Surprisingly, the jocks were into the whole concept of Dungeons & Dragons. Of course, there were still the friend groups and people you would sit with at lunch, but it had become more diverse. Perhaps, Westerburg had become a nice place. Finally.

It was the beginning of May and Westerburg high was holding their annual spring fair. And just like the last 4 years, the Heathers, partnered with the cheerleading team, had set up a kissing booth. And McNamara had somehow convinced Veronica to join. Veronica was never a fan of booths like these, enjoying the rigged games and shitty food booths a lot more. But it is what it is, they were raising money to send the cheerleading team to competitions in June; $5 for a kiss on the cheek and $10 for one on the lips, with the additional $2 for every 10-second increment. Veronica made a mental note to hold this against McNamara when the time comes.

"Veronica, are you even listening to me?" Duke raised an eyebrow at her friend. They had never got along, always at each other's throats, but they'd live.

Veronica couldn't help but roll her eyes. "What are you babbling about now?" She asked, waiting for the fair to end already.

Duke scoffed. "I was just saying to Heather, that we should all draw straws to see who has to kiss the nerds who visit us,"

Heather McNamara nodded excitedly, liking the idea of the game.

Veronica sighed. "Heather, I have nothing against the so called nerds at this school, they're nice."

"Well you don't have anything for them either," Duke huffed. "Either way I'm not kissing a nerd."

Dear Diary, Heather Duke is still a pretentious bitch

Veronica sighed. "Fine Heather we'll play your stupid game," she shook her head and took a straw from McNamara's hands.

Duke grabbed one as well and the three of them compared their straws. Of course, Veronica's was the shortest.

"Nerd kisser," Duke teased, giggling.

"Shut up Heather," McNamara frowned. "Veronica was nice enough to play your game, so you don't have to be a mega bitch about it," she defended her friend.

Veronica smiled and nudged McNamara, silent thanks as Duke rolled her eyes again, realizing her bitchy attitude. But also realizing the power that Veronica had to ruin her.

"Sorry Heather," Duke apologized grudgingly. "Sorry, Veronica."

Veronica smiled and nodded, turning her attention away from her friends who reapplied their lipgloss. She looked at the money jar, the glass surprisingly filled to the brim and threatening to spill over.

Dear Diary, I guess being kissed by a cheerleader or one of the most popular girls in school is still important

The fair was slowly dying and Veronica leaned against the table, fiddling with Heather Chandler's scrunchy. She always kept it on her, something to remember her friend by. Regardless of how big of a bitch Heather Chandler was to everyone in the school, Veronica saw her more human sides at times. She sighed, remembering when they had first become friends. What a shit show.

"Greetings and Salutations," Veronica heard the familiar deep voice, their breath tickling her neck.

She couldn't help but crack a smile, turning around to face the person to which the voice belonged to.

"Brought you a slushy," They cracked a crooked smile, holding out the styrofoam cup for Veronica.

Veronica smiled and took the cup, taking a sip of the sweet drink. The familiarity of cherry flavored ice dancing on her tongue.

"SON OF A BITCH!" Veronica grimaced, holding her head in pain. Brain freeze.

He chuckled and took one of her hands, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. McNamara smiled at the two, giggling at the sight as Duke rolled her eyes and ignored the two.

"Young love," The Heathers said in unison, contrasting tones from the different girls.

Veronica quickly recovered and put the cup down, smiling at her boyfriend. "What are you doing here?"

"Thought I'd pay you a visit," He shrugged. "I was bored. It was either come to a stupid Carnival and see my favorite girl or blow up the school," He teased.

Her eyes widened and smacked his chest lightly. "You're not funny," she shook her head, a small smile on her lips.

When Jason Dean had first moved to Sherwood Ohio, he was damaged. Badly damaged. After moving around to 10 different high schools, dealing with a shit head of a father, and watching his mother explode into millions of pieces; one could say his mind and life was pretty fucked up. However, Veronica Sawyer changed that, she taught him to see the good in things, that life isn't just war, that people could be beautiful.

That was until Heather Chandler forced her to dump him in October, in front of the whole student body. It infuriated JD, the laughs of the students echoing in his ears and he vowed to blow up the school. Before anything got out of hand, the radio had announced the death of Heather Chandler. The same night, Veronica had crawled through JD's window, apologizing for everything. Still hurt, JD didn't want to forgive her but knew that Veronica was in no state for more grief. After all, her best friend and worst enemy had died.

As the school year went by, they had gotten back together. Of course, Veronica found the homemade bombs in his room, which she made him throw away. Slowly after that, JD began to improve, his murderous tendencies and thoughts disappeared. Instead, they were replaced with school and Veronica, the one thing in his life that made him happy. Besides slushies. If he went into the past and told himself that he'd be dating and going to prom with the most popular girl at Westerburg High and not have killed her friends, he would've laughed in his own face and blown up a few toasters to piss his father off.

But here they were, rubbing noses and ready for graduation more than ever. "How about we go get some chili fries after this, what do you say?" JD smiled.

"I'd like that," Veronica giggled. God, she hated herself, he made her feel like a little school girl, kicking a field on butterflies in her stomach.

JD smiled and leaned in to kiss his girlfriend before Heather Duke slipped a piece of paper between the two.

"$10 for a kiss," Duke pushed the jar towards the two.

"Really Heather?" Veronica raised an eyebrow at her friend who shrugged.

"Nah don't worry about it, consider it going to a good cause," JD smiled and threw a twenty into the jar.

McNamara squealed happily and grabbed the jar, hugging the money tightly. Duke shrugged and looked away, not wanting to witness the PDA.

"You didn't have to do that," Veronica smiled softly.

"Yeah I did, besides, I'd give anything up to be with you," JD smiled cheekily. "Including the plans for a mass school bombing,"

Veronica rolled her eyes and kissed him gently, smiling against his lips. "You're a fucking psycho, did you know that?" She teased, mumbling against his lips.

"Well the extreme always seems to make an impression,"

[bbcsherlockimagines]

I do my research

A/n I hope this doesn't suck ok- Pairing: Sherlock x reader Your p o v I rolled my eyes, honestly I'm being resigned, again? It's not that I can't find a case, but I finish them too quickly. This time I'm being forced to work with others. I run my finger through my h/c hair. Then tap on a desks little, I asked about my partner (or in this case partners) but all I got was a name. In reality that's all I needed. I've always done my homework, and I did all of my research. "Hello Mycroft, who is that," John Watson asks? "I'm y/n l/n," I say. Sherlock takes it from their, "you are originally from ____ , you have been in the government business for 4 years, most likely a secretive branch, and you are part of this case." I simply nod and reply, "good, you left out the part where I'm planning a government overthrow," I say jokingly. Sherlock raises an eyebrow. "She's kidding," Mycroft says. "I hope." He mutters. "Anyways, we can get back to my plans later. What's the case about," I ask? After being explained about a couple of crazy "accidents". "The fact that all these "accidents" are set up to look like accidents due to faulty wiring or electrical error should mean something," Sherlock says. I gasp, everyone turns to me. "Their moving up and leaving hints, first a women in her kitchen the power went out and the clicks went out at 3:15. The next victims were a family in a cab going to 315th street, the cab's last four digits were '1246. Inside the wreckage was a ticket for a tube ride." "That leaves at 12:45," Sherlock finishes. I nod and we look at the clock 10:48 am. We still have two hours. We go their and explain the situation to the mechanics then Sherlock looks for all the possible rigs. "Look at this panel," John says. We both go over, the switches are all different then everything else on this. I put one fingernail under it and pull up slightly while Lessing down the other side, the panel pops off. Inside is a bomb, it's small but would cause the whole train to you know, explode. "This is pretty genius," Sherlock explains. "Sherlock, you are a high functioning sociopath," I say. "Actually I'm a high functio... Wait did you say that. "Yes, I did my research," I explain. He smiles a little, "finally someone who did their research. I feel someone shove me and I'm on the ground. " A piece of paper next to me that says 'go big or go home' I groan in annoyance. "I know who we are dealing with, this idiot who used to be my friend. She works with *gag* Jim Moriarty," I actually gag, earning a laugh. "Wait you know her and she works with Jim," John asks? "Yes, she was my friend then oops she turned out to be evil. I could overlook that, then she tried to stab me, a little harder to overlook, then she tried to drown me in my sleep and she just decided to he evil I don't know," I explain. "Does she have any weaknesses," Sherlock asks? "Yeah she does," I crack my knuckles smiling. "A lot she's scared of spiders, she's allergic to coconut, and she is obsessed with the fact that I can't die," I whisper the last part. "What? She tried to kill you,they exclaim! "I know but she had to make it look like that she hates the organization I work for and she let me live. Trust me I've literally been kidnapped and had guns held to my head so she would do stuff,its true. The more complicated the case got the more time we spent together. All in all I've grown fond of them. We have used the fact that I have a "history" with the criminal to the criminal to our advantage. After we caught the criminal something strange happened, Sherlock kissed me. Unbelievable! I know.

[one-of-us-blog]

The Pandorica Opens (Doctor Who S05E12)

Today Jon is forced to watch and recap “The Pandorica Opens”, the twelfth and penultimate episode of Doctor Who’s fifth series. The Doctor has been lured to Stonehenge to investigate the legendary Pandorica. Will he be able to handle what he finds inside?

Keep reading to find out…

Eli, your latest recap was a real adventure to read! Get it? Do you get it? Because of the title? Anyway, you did a great job as always, Chief! I will say, it was a little hard for me to stay focused on what you were actually saying, though, because I kept thinking about the next episode you have to watch… “Mixed Blessings” makes me very, very nervous, and I feel weird about making you watch it. I know I’ve kind of hyped up episodes like “Blanche’s Little Girl” for being problematic before, but this one… something else. I hope you make it through okay, and I’ll be very curious to get your thoughts on it.

For now, though, buttocks tight!

Episode directed by Toby Haynes and written by Steven Moffat

We start off in France, 1890, where our old friend Vincent van Gogh is in the midst of a fit. A doctor is trying to help him, but he’s distracted by the sight of van Gogh’s latest painting. We jump ahead to the Cabinet War Rooms in London, 1941, where our other old friend Dr. Bracewell (the mandroid from “Victory of the Daleks”) brings said painting to the attention of Winston Churchill (presumably after having some wacky human/robot coital adventures with Dorabella). The painting was found hidden in an attic, and Bracewell says it’s a message. Churchill asks, “But is it art?” and Bracewell says that’s not the point, they’ve just got to deliver the message. Jumping ahead again to Stormcage Containment Facility, 5145, Dr. River Song is doodling in her journal in her cell when a call comes in for her. Well, not for her, exactly. Churchill is asking for the Doctor, but River explains trans-temporal calls can get a bit mixed up sometimes. He explains to her when he’s calling for, and then River manages to use some hallucinogenic lipstick on the guard and escape. Later, in the Royal Collection, River’s doing some B&E and finds that van Gogh painting from earlier. She snatches it, only to be caught red-handed by Liz Ten, the bloody Queen of England. Liz is looking a little older than the last time we saw her in “The Beast Below”, but she’s clearly still in top form and ready to put a hurting on River for her attempted theft. She shows Liz the painting and Liz lets her go. Next, we see River at the Maldovarium, trying to get access to some time travel technology. Her dealer’s got his hands on a vortex manipulator, but it won’t come cheap. Luckily River’s filled the guy up with micro-bombs and, wouldn’t you know it, she gets the manipulator. Next up on this magical mystery tour, Amy is studying the ring the now-nonexistent Rory had planned to give her when the Doctor pops down to tell her they’re visiting the oldest planet around, Planet One. He’s going to translate some words that were carved into some cliffs at the dawn of time. Well, the TARDIS is going to translate them. And it does, revealing the words “Hello Sweetie” carved into the cliff. “ΘΣ Φ ΓΥΔϟ” is also carved in there, and it turns out those are temporal coordinates. The Doc follows them in the TARDIS to Roman Britain in the year 102. Roman soldiers are all over the place, and one of them runs up and thinks the Doc is Julius Caesar. He tells him Cleopatra will see him, and we find out that this Cleopatra is just River in disguise. Man, now I know where the directors of Gods of Egypt and Ghost in the Shell got their casting ideas from! The incredibly white, couldn’t-be-less-Egyptian-if-she-tried Song gives the Doc the painting. We finally get to see it, and learn that it shows the TARDIS being destroyed.

After the opening credits, River shows the Doc that there are date and map references written on the door of the TARDIS in the painting. The painting is called The Pandorica Opens, so it looks like we’re getting resolution to that plotpoint soon. Song explains to Amy that the Pandorica is a prison of some kind holding the most dangerous thing in the universe. The Doc says the Pandorica is a legend, but Song says it has something to do with the TARDIS being destroyed. He assumes Stonehenge has something to do with all of this, so they head there on horseback. The Doc says they need to go deeper, so River rigs up some tech and moves one of the stones aside, revealing a staircase leading down into the Earth. They head down, and we get a shot revealing that nearby lies a… severed Cyberman head! Be still my heart! How can that Cyberman exude so much charisma and confidence when he doesn’t even have a body?! Seeing that beautiful face again Ain’t So Bad at all.

Back underground, the trio comes to a big door which the Doc and Song proceed to open. It leads to a big room holding a massive cube, which the Doc identifies as the Pandorica. The Doc moves towards it and callously steps on a severed Cyberman arm, blatantly displaying his lack of respect for the dead. He touches the Pandorica and gives us some insight to the legend surrounding the Pandorica. Song figures out there are a ton of security systems within the Pandorica, but they’re being unlocked from the inside one by one and the thing will be open in a few hours. The Doc figures out that the stones of Stonehenge are acting as transmitters, sending out a warning to everyone everywhere that the Pandorica is opening. van Gogh heard the warnings in his time, leading to his dreams and him making the painting in the first place. River points out that if everyone can hear this warning, others will be coming. River checks and turns out there are, like, 10,000 starships around Earth right now. There are Daleks, tasty-ass Cybermen, Sontarans, Slitheen (ugh), Zygons, and, well, the list goes on. Point is, there are a lot of ships orbiting Earth right now, and all of them are full of species who hate the Doctor and want the Pandorica.

The trio run outside and see ships starting to land. The Doc decides to take advantage of the nearby Romans. Song rides back to the Roman camp, but a Roman commander has just gotten home and he knows that Cleopatra is A.) Currently in Egypt B.) Dead and C.) Not white, so the jig’s up for ol’ River. He wants to know who River is, but she uses an energy weapon to startle them. She tells them the Doc’s going to need help, and an unseen centurion volunteers to help her and the Doc out. Back under Stonehenge, Amy’s trying to figure out what the Pandorica has to do with the TARDIS blowing up. Given that there are thousands of enemy ships in the skies above and an alien prison about to open in front of them, Amy decides this is a good time to ask the Doc about the ring. She feels something when she’s holding it, but she doesn’t quite understand it. Amy gives him the ring back, and then he turns the table and decides it’s time for some exposition from him. He tells Amy there was a reason he brought her along in the TARDIS with him. Her house was too big and had too many empty rooms for just her. He asks if it bothers her that her life doesn’t make any sense, but just then laser blasts begin to fire.

The Cyberman from earlier is firing at them, very sexily, because its organic bits dried up a long time ago and it wants fresh meat. Amy manages to distract it so that the Doc can disable it, but while he’s doing that a cable from the hunky Cyberhead from earlier gets a grip on her. The arm shocks and incapacitates the Doc while the head gets rid of the old skull inside of it to make room for Amy. She throws it aside, but it manages to fire a dart into her. Just then the rest of daddy comes home to roost and reattaches its head. It lumbers towards Amy, who’s feeling turnt off that dart, but she manages to hide in a little closet or something nearby. The Cyberman gets cruelly, viciously and savagely murdered by someone with a sword. Oh shit, turns out that someone is Rory in a Roman soldier costume. He recognizes her, but she passes out from the dart before she can say anything to him. The Doctor arrives and tries to figure out what a Cyberman is doing here, besides being a treat for the eyes, and what it has to do with whatever’s in the Pandorica. He finally realizes Rory’s here, which is weird, and asks what’s up.

From Rory’s point of view, he died and then he was a Roman. He doesn’t know anything about being erased or how he got here. He asks if Amy missed him, but the Doc’s spared answering that by the Pandorica entering its final phase and preparing to open. River reports that Stonehenge is surrounded by alien ships and the Doc tells her to get the TARDIS here. The Doc heads upstairs and reveals his presence to the alien ships. He tells them he has no plan and no weapons, and for some utterly incomprehensible reason they don’t just blow him and the Romans up right then and there. Instead, his masturbatory speech about how great he is scares them all back up into orbit. Song reaches the TARDIS and starts off, but the craft jerks to a halt unexpectedly. Amy wakes up and Rory realizes she doesn’t know who he is.

The Doc gives the spiel about cracks in the universe and finally seems to realize that the big explosion that caused them might have something to do with the TARDIS exploding.  The Doc tells Rory to go after Amy despite her not remembering him. Song and the TARDIS land, but they’re back at Amy’s house in 2010. Song goes outside and a screen in the TARDIS cracks while a spooky voice assures us that silence definitely will fall at some point. Inside Amy’s room, River finds Amy’s Raggedy Doctor merchandise as well as a book on Roman history and a book on Pandora’s Box. All of this means something to Song, but we cut back to Rory trying to talk to Amy. Amy starts to cry while they’re talking without realizing it, but she says they’re happy tears even if she doesn’t know why she’s happy. Song calls the Doc and says they’ve been duped; all the Romans we’ve met so far have literally come from Amy’s storybook, and even Stonehenge is in there. The Doc says something is using Amy’s memory to construct all of this, and that the Romans must be duplicates. There’s a picture of Rory in a Roman costume in the book, which means he’s just a construct, too. Song says whoever’s doing this used Amy to lure the Doc into a trap, but just then the engines of the TARDIS start to act up. The spooky voice lets her know about silence falling while Rory tries to get Amy to remember him.

The Pandorica begins to emit a piercing tone, and all of the Romans, including Rory, seem to reboot. The Pandorica opens and all of the Romans begin to move en masse, but Rory fights against his programming. The TARDIS lands and River tries to leave, but the doors are jammed. Rory tells Amy to leave before he can hurt her, but just then she starts to remember. The Doc’s deduced that the Romans are autons controlled by the Nestene Consciousness (what a callback!) and they hold him in place while a Dalek informs him that they’ve scanned him. Amy tries to get Rory to hold onto his humanity. Cybermen, Sontarans and even the Judoon beam in to let him know that nothing is coming out of the Pandorica. It’s a prison that’s been built to hold him. Rory can’t fight his programming and shoots Amy. The Doctor is dragged toward the Pandorica while the TARDIS shimmies around River.

The Doc’s rogues gallery informs him they’re working together to imprison him so that the cracks in the universe will never be formed in the first place. They think they can prevent the explosion of the TARDIS by holding the Doc inside the Pandorica, because they think he’s the only one who can pilot the TARDIS. River manages to get the door of the TARDIS open, but she’s faced with a stone wall as the TARDIS begins to explode behind her. Rory clutches a dead Amy as the stars all around Earth begin to explode and go out.

The End

~~~~~

I’m really glad we’ve finally got the whole Pandorica thing out of the way. It was neat to see so many familiar, villainous faces in one place, and, of course, it was a delight to see my Cyberdaddies hanging out with all their evil pals. It was also really nice to see Rory again, even if it was only a Rorybot. Like the first parts of most Who two-parters, this felt like a lot of set-up, so I’m looking forward to next time when all of the juicy stuff happens.

I give “The Pandorica Opens” QQQ on the Five Q Scale.

We’ll see you again on Friday when Eli will hopefully get through the next episode of The Golden Girls, “Mixed Blessings” in one piece, and then on Saturday I’ll post my recap of the final episode of this series of Doctor Who, “The Big Bang”.

Until then, thanks for reading, thanks for grifting and thanks for being One of Us!

[ericjuneau]

Reprise (Chapter 39) [Frozen/Tangled/The Little Mermaid]

CHAPTER 39: Paying Off Debts

Boats stretched across the mighty fjord, facing outward. Each flew the dual flags of the Southern Isles and Weselton. Hans's flagship held behind the blockade, barely visible.

"Do you think this is going to work?" Ariel asked Rapunzel who steered.

"If Elsa believes it will work, I think so. She's confident enough of our powers."

At the bow, Elsa held a telescope to her eye. She stood like the maidenhead of the ship they were on.

"I just hope she's confident about hers."

Above the bowsprit was a gigantic copper cone, manned by an ensign. The wide end pointed at them, making them think it was some kind of cannon. But it was a megaphone, as they discovered when the captain spoke into it.

"Approaching vessel, lower your emblem and raise the white flag to signal your intent to surrender." The voice warbled across the water, echoing and distorting the words.

Ariel stepped up beside Elsa. "Isn't that cute? They think I'm going to surrender," Elsa said to her.

The opposing captain waited for them to make an intention toward the flagpole. When enough time had passed, he declared "Approaching vessel, signal your surrender."

Ariel raised her trident. "I can make your voice louder."

Elsa grinned and nodded.

"No." Her voice carried with the same volume and weight as Hans's.

"Queen Elsa, this doesn't have to be a bloodbath. Anchor your boat and we'll board you. We'll make this nice and quick."

"Remove your vessels from Arendelle waters," Elsa said. "Or we'll remove them for you."

The captain talked to someone at his side, then returned. "You can't seriously think you're going to overcome two combined navies. You have no armada."

"I have no armada?" Elsa said. She raised her hands. "I AM the armada."

Dark clouds crawled in from the edges of the horizon, surrounding their little section of ocean. A pelting ice rain fell, churning the waters and soaking all sailors to the bone with ice coldness. They could hear the distress from here.

"Cease this immediately or we will open fire. You've given us no choice."

Elsa nodded to Ariel. Her trident stopped glowing as the magic surrounding her voice ceased. "No choice? I'll show you what it's like to have no choice," Elsa muttered. "Full sail."

Ariel and Rapunzel scattered across the ship, readying sails and ropes. Ariel shot a beam into the water, creating a firm wave that pushed them forward. Rapunzel hooked her hair across riggings and swung to each mast, letting out the sails to their maximum spread.

Cannons boomed through the hazy mist of the cold rain. They fell short of the bow.

"Ariel, need you at the front. Rapunzel-"

"I got it," she shouted from the crow's nest, where she already was. "Three-quarters north by northwest."

As Rapunzel called out the location of the next ships to open their cannonade, Elsa focused her attention. Giant icicles dropped out of the clouds, falling in slow motion onto the ships. The icicles exploded into shards as sailors ejected off deck. One ship careened onto its side, already halfway sunk, as the two next to it rocked back and forth.

More cannons. Their whistling call narrowed the gap, prickling their hairs on their necks. Ariel shot the closest. The iron globe disintegrated in a ball of gold light. Another exploded out. Ariel shot that too.

Elsa dropped three more icicles on ships near Hans's. Like divine angels of retribution descending the heavens. They fell as slow as molasses, giving the enemy time to ponder their fate.

"Northwest," Rapunzel shouted. She lassoed the crow's nest crossbar and swung down to the deck, rejoining her two friends. "They're pulling away."

"But Hans's ship is still there- whoop!" Ariel caught sight of a cannon ball mere yards away before destroying it. "It's harder to spot them in time." A boom to the left. Ariel had to fire three times before hitting it.

"No one hurts my friends." Elsa spread out her arms, controlling the storm, the icicles, and now, the snowballs knocking the cannonballs off course. Lead shot crashed into them with an awful tinkling sound.

The temperature around Elsa dropped suddenly enough to make Rapunzel shiver. She looked at Elsa. Her eyes were white. Frost was dripping down her outstretched arms.

"Elsa, be careful," Rapunzel said. "You're using too much power."

This was what she was afraid of. Elsa's power was their best chance at surviving. But that meant putting herself at risk to become a heartless monster again. Rapunzel tugged at Elsa's arm.

"Power? I'll show them power," Elsa said.

A line of icicles stabbed out of the frothing water, trailing towards the ship left of Hans. They speared the boat through its belly.

"Elsa. Stop, you're going to lose control," Rapunzel said.

"She can't stop," Ariel said. "We're too close. They'll kill us."

"One time," Elsa said, cradling a deep breath. "I cut off a horse's tail when I was little. Just out of curiosity."

Ariel and Rapunzel looked at each other.

"I wrote a love letter to the stable boy," Elsa said. "I didn't tell him who I was. I told him I'd meet him behind the fountains at midnight. But I was too scared and never showed up."

Her white eyes faded back down to her normal blue ones.

"When I was nine, I got sick the day they were painting our yearly portrait and I threw up all over Anna and mom. I can't read books where there's a dog, because I'm too afraid the dog will die."

It was working. Whether by whim of the storm or not, Hans's escort vessels angled away, leaving his ship alone.  

"One time I was really mad at Anna and I called her stupid and fat and sloppy when she was being really obnoxious and wouldn't leave me alone. I never apologized to her. Sometimes I faked being sick just so I could get attention from mom and dad. I was always in my room, so it was the only way to get them to stay with me."

Between the pelting rain, the cannons, the ice chunks and trident blasts, chaos swirled around them. Rapunzel ran to the wheel. Ariel used her trident to summon a wall of cascading water on both sides of the ship. The force of the flow would curtail any close shots. But it had the side-effect of closing their view to only the destination ahead.

Elsa stood before the storm, tears like needles in her eyes from the stinging wind.

"I thought about suicide a lot. Like, a lot. Both before Mom and Dad died and after. It would have been easier on everyone if I just hadn't existed. All I did was cause trouble. I stole a kitchen knife, but my dad found it hidden in my dresser drawer and took it away. He never told anyone about it. But I didn't need it. I could have stabbed myself with an icicle. I thought about tying the bed sheets into a noose and jumping out the window. I didn't want to live if I was going to stay in my room for the rest of my life. But when I was going to become queen it got... worse and better. I had something to live for again, but I had to do it alone. I was always alone. I was always-"

"Elsa!" Ariel shouted.

Elsa stopped talking. She saw Ariel below her, holding her hand. Rapunzel was next to her.

"We're through," she said.

Elsa looked around. The sky was bright blue, with the expanse of water before them. No ships, no armada. No Hans.

"Are you okay?" Ariel asked gently.

"It was the only way to keep my heart from freezing," Elsa said. "I had to keep it open." She wiped her eyes.

Rapunzel embraced her cousin in a hug. Ariel joined in.

"I don't want to do that again," Elsa said, sobbing.

"No, no, you don't have to do that again," Rapunzel replied.

"I don't think I could do that again," she said with a half-laugh. "It's just... it's just too much."

"How do you feel?" Ariel asked.

"Like scum," Elsa said.

"Hey." Rapunzel took Elsa's face in her hands. "We still love you. We will never stop loving you. You don't need to be forgiven."

"We all have had terrible things in our lives. Terrible things we've thought about," Ariel said.

"When Mother said I could never leave the tower, I had some really dark thoughts that time," Rapunzel said.

"And I don't know what I'd do if I never got to see the human world," Ariel said. "But it's all past you now, right?"

"Yeah." Elsa stood up straight. "Unless we don't get to that bomb. Then it'll be nothing but the past."

She picked up her telescope. Though distant, she could distinguish Hans on deck talking to the Duke of Weselton. The smugness had been replaced with rage befitting a sociopath.

"They're heading towards us," Elsa said as she snapped the telescope closed. "Let's get ready."

Aboard Hans's flagship, they saw the blockade close in on the single galleon. They saw the storm rage in. They saw cannon fire and heavy artillery rendered useless by snowballs and light beams. They saw spouts of water churn and geyser into the air, sending all the ships distant corners away. Now they saw the galleon heading straight towards them.

Hans fingered the flintlock pistol at his shoulder. He stared at the incoming vessel, searching for a sign to give the command to fire.

But the boat continued on toward them, following the breeze. It curved and slid alongside there's. Still, not a soul had presented itself.

"What is going on?" The Duke of Weselton asked. "It's a ghost ship?"

"There are no ghosts," Hans said.

Once the ship had pulled alongside theirs--only a few yards distance between siderails--it suddenly halted. The wind vanished and the water below became as still as a pane of glass. Neither of their boats were going to move for a while.

"Sorcery," the duke said.

"Of course it's sorcery," Hans said. "That doesn't mean we can't defeat it. And it definitely means someone's in control." To the officers beside him, he said, "Send all but the most essential men over. Search everywhere. This boat didn't sail itself."

The officer nodded. He shouted orders and soon a large contingent gathered on deck. Men lowered three long planks as bridges between the two ships.

The leader of the search party crossed first and shouted, "We know you're here, girls. Come out and show yourselves."

Only the stillness.

Men scattered around the deck, expecting to see someone at the wheel, rudder control, a sailing master, a gunner. But not even a swabbie could be seen.

The lead officer blinked his eyes. To his second-in-command, he appeared frozen in thought. "Sir?"

"I... sorry, I thought I just saw them."

"Where?"

"... nowhere. I just... I feel like they're right in front of me. But I..."

Ahead of them lay nothing but air and the storage compartment on the quarterdeck.

"I feel it too," the second-in-command said. "It must be our instincts telling us we're on the right track. Let's keep searching."

The officer shouted. "Proceed below deck. Leave nothing unturned or unopened." The officer rested his hand on his cutlass's hilt and proceeded onward.

"I think it's working," Rapunzel whispered as the two officers moved further down the deck. She fastened her grips on Ariel and Elsa's hands.

"It's like they see us, but they don't see us," Ariel said. "We were standing right in front of him."

"Do we need to whisper?" Elsa asked. "If they couldn't see us, they couldn't hear us too."

The three of them switched from looking at the sailors invading their ship to the planks. Ariel held Rapunzel's hand with one of her own. The other gripped the crystal glowing contented blue to her chest. Elsa kept her fingers around Ariel's wrists.

"Let's go aboard," she said.

Rapunzel led the three of them across the plank to Hans's ship. No one noticed them. Hans and the duke stood on the quarterdeck, staring at the Barefoot Maiden, waiting for something to happen. The only other people aboard were three men surrounding something against the wall of the gun deck.

"That's Hans?" Ariel whispered to Rapunzel. "I see why Anna fell for him."

Elsa stood in front of the guards, trying to look between them to see what they were guarding.

"Captain!" said the one in front.

Hans turned to him. He did a double-take, but said nothing.

The guard looked sheepish. "There's... I... er, nothing. Sorry."

Ariel and Rapunzel looked at each other. "That was close."

Elsa unstilled herself and stood on tiptoe. Behind them stood a small, innocuous barrel. The word "DANGER" was stenciled in white on the lid. A temperature gauge, like one would find in a turkey, was stuck through the lid.

"That must be it," she said. "How can we get it? I know no one can see or hear us, but does touch could break the spell?"

"Could we use the trident?" Rapunzel asked Ariel.

"What if it blows up?" she responded.

Another of the guards lifted his hands. "There! I see... I mean... no... never mind."

"What? What is it?" Hans asked impatiently.

"It's just. I thought I saw the queen and her cohorts standing right there."

Hans swept his eyes back and forth. He was looking right at the three of them, but didn't know it.

"It's like they're ghosts. It's giving me prickles on the back of my neck," said a guard.

Ariel giggled. The crystal in her hand pulsed once.

"There is something strange going on here," Hans said. He wandered off to confer with the duke.

The left guard reached out his hand, feeling for something that wasn't there. His fingertips came inches from Elsa's nose. She leaned back as far as she could without losing the morimema's protection.

"They're getting wise. We need to do this fast," Elsa said behind her teeth.

"All three at once," Ariel said.

"I got the left, Elsa the right, Ariel--center," Rapunzel said. "One-two-three-GO."

Elsa raised her hand. A pillar of ice rose from the deck, elevating the rightmost guard above the deck. The guard shouted "whoa" and lost his balance. Elsa extended the top of the pillar into a long sheaf of ice. He slid down, somersaulting all the way, and fell into a square hole below deck.

At the same time, Rapunzel bashed her guard in the helmet with her frying pan. He toppled over, chin first. She lassoed his legs with her hair, then whipped him to the other end of the boat.

The guard in the middle started thrusting out his spear at random points in space. "Begone, demons!

Ariel parried it with the trident tucked under her arm. She caught its pointed end between the tines, spun it once, then threw it into the air. The guard was still watching it drift upwards when she blasted the ground below him. The shockwave cast him in the same direction as the spear.

Ariel watched him careen over the side of the ship, ending in a resounding splash. As she smiled, the spear landed, knocking into her hand. Surprise made her jump back, which made her lose grip on the morimema.

The crystal fell to the deck where it shattered into a million tiny glittering pieces. Its blue glow faded instantly, giving the debris the appearance of sand.

"Uh-oh," Ariel said. The three of them looked up.

Prince Hans was standing behind them. So was the Duke of Weselton, holding out a sword. Hans aimed a flintlock pistol.

"I knew it. I knew it was some trick," Hans said. "One of your little ice and water shows."

"I'll give you an ice show," Elsa said, preparing to raise his hands.

Hans brandished his pistol.  "Uh-uh. Keep your precious little gloves on. You too, princesses. I know all about your magic hair and your trident." Hans glowered.

"You know you're working with a dark sorcerer now," Ariel said.

"He must be getting desperate if now he's working with the likes of you," Rapunzel said.

"If that's what it takes, fine. He was the only one that came to me when I'd hit rock bottom. I was rotting in a swamp, watching over pitiful peasants."

"And what did he promise you?" Ariel asked. "A kingdom of your own? Treasure and jewels? Revenge on all your enemies?"

"And then some," Hans said.

"Just take me," Elsa said, stepping forward. "I'm the one you want. I'm the one that wronged you."

"What? Oh, you didn't think I cared about 'protecting' Arendelle, did you?"

"You plunged our countries into war!" Ariel shouted. "You killed how many dozens, maybe hundreds of people just to get your share? How could you do that?"

"I'm a chameleon," Hans said with pride. "I adapt to any situation to make people feel comfortable. Comfortable enough to give me what I want."

"Even if it costs your soul?" Rapunzel asked.

Hans grimaced. "You'd never know unless you were me, how it feels to receive the dregs of everything. I don't care who I have to deal with. I didn't choose to be the lastborn of the Westergaards. But I'm not going to let that determine my fate."

"Wait, what?" Ariel said. "Your last name is Westergaard?" She muttered to herself as she eyed the ground. "Westergaard, Westergaard, where have I heard that name."

"In the grotto!" Rapunzel said. "All those debt notices."

"What are you talking about?" Hans asked. "That debt was paid off. It took decades, but it was paid."

Rapunzel pointed at him. "Except the documents were all forgeries. At least that's what the letter said. It said the coat of arms didn't match the year the ledgers were written."

"Someone was going to a banquet to prove it, but the ship must have sunk," Ariel said.

"The spymaster..." Hans finished.

"That's right."

"Everyone in my family knows that story. Three generations ago, the kingdom was in debt up to its ears. It seemed to come out of nowhere. And you-"

Before Hans could turn, the duke grabbed the gun out of his hand and pointed it at him. "Now, now, let's not be hasty here. We have an alliance now. The debt's paid off."

"A debt we never owed you in the first place," Hans said, scowling.

"Well, come on. That was years ago," the duke said. "You don't seriously... expect... all right now, back off." He brandished his gun. "This may only have one bullet, but none of you want to be the one who gets it, eh?"

Rapunzel's eyebrows raised, but she said nothing. She stepped behind Ariel and Rapunzel, letting them hold the conversation.

"If you really forged those documents, there'll be proof of that. We keep much better records now."

"And won't your family be proud that you've solved the case, hm? Then where am I? You think Weselton can pay that all back? Do you think I was in Arendelle a year ago, trying to find their trade secrets for fun?"

"As soon as I get back to the Southern Isles, I'm finding those documents. I'm sure they're in the royal archive. And we'll find out the real truth."

"Then I'll have to make sure you never get back to the Southern Isles." He raised the gun. "Any last words?"

Hans stood stunned, unbelieving his partner would shoot him.

"I do, actually," Rapunzel said, stepping forward. "Just one question. Have you looked at your left shoulder lately?"

"My what?"

The duke turned his head to his left shoulder, as Rapunzel expected. This distracted him from his right shoulder, where Pascal actually was. The lizard darted out his tongue and stuck it in his ear.

The duke shrieked. The gun fired, emitting a puff of smoke, then he dropped it.

Ariel shot her trident at the duke's feet. The lightning bolt impacted and sent the Duke of Weselton rocketing off, arcing against the blue sky. He landed somewhere far away in the water with a distant plop.

Pascal turned cartwheels in the air. Rapunzel rushed up and caught the chameleon in her soft hands. "Are you okay?"

His eyes spun, but he gave a thumbs-up with his three flat toes.

"Find shelter," Rapunzel whispered. She set him on the deck and ran to the two others.

"Is everyone all right?" Elsa asked, patting her body for bullet holes. Rapunzel and Ariel did the same, as if searching for where they left their keys.

"Does anyone hear that hissing?" Ariel asked.

They followed their ears to the source. The barrel was emitting a geyser of smoke from a crack where the bullet had grazed it. The temperature gauge's needle was climbing towards the red zone.

"That can't be good," Rapunzel said.

All three knelt in front of the barrel. Three small locks latched the lid.

"Blast it!" Ariel said. She pointed her trident.

Rapunzel stuck her hand between her and the box. "No, that could set it off! Let's throw it overboard," Rapunzel suggested.

"It's strong enough to destroy a city. I don't think that's going to save us," Elsa said. "Hans, how does this thing work?"

They looked around the deck. "Hans?"

Something clunked against the side of the ship. The three ran to see Hans pulleying the longboat into the water.

"I'm not through with you yet, Duke," he said as the dinghy landed. He detached the ropes and started rowing away.

"Coward," Elsa muttered.

They returned to the barrel. The needle was seconds away from the red zone.

"We've got to do something," Elsa said. "We can't just sit here. Throwing it in the water won't help. Destroying it won't help. I can't freeze it, I don't know what's inside."

"This is just what he wanted," Rapunzel muttered. "For us to call him for help."

"Who?" Ariel asked.

"Arcius. He could turn back time, get us out of this mess, if we agree to help him."

"He started this mess in the first place," Elsa grunted. "I won't give him the satisfaction. I'd rather it explode. I'd rather be destroyed than..." she paused. "Your hair! It's indestructible."

"That's right!" Ariel said.

"Guys, I don't know if it's that indestructible," Rapunzel said.

"Do we have any other options?"

Rapunzel smoothed out a swath of her hair. Elsa and Ariel wrapped it around the barrel like a yarn ball. "Cover it. There can't be any square inch exposed."

They continued wrapping it was taut. A faint whistling began from under the pillows of yellow thread.

"If we can still hear it, does that mean it's tight enough?"

"It needs more," Elsa said. She shot her magic at the ball of crumpled hair. Blue ice formed a jagged meteorite around it. The ice chunk began to vibrate.

"Oh no you don't," Ariel said. She fired her trident. A translucent golden shield enveloped the lump, which began to rise in the air.

It trembled like a fluttering dandelion. Elsa and Rapunzel turned away. Ariel shut her eyes.

The ice ball stopped trembling. It fell to the ground.

Elsa touched the ball of ice she had made. Wispy snowflakes fluttered away like escaping fireflies. When they unraveled it all, the only thing left was smears of black soot, which wiped away easily.

"We did it," Rapunzel said. She shouted into the air. "You hear that Arcius? We did it! We did-"

There was a sound like tearing cloth.

"What was that?" Ariel asked.

"There," Elsa pointed. "Do you see it?" She leaned to the left and the right.

In the space before them, part of the air was sliced and torn. Like the world was made of canvas and been slit by a vandal. Jagged edges marked the fissure. Everything within the tear was the same as its opposite side, though slightly askew.

"What is that?" Rapunzel asked.

Ariel poked her trident through. It emerged to the left as if refracted in a glass of water. "It's like a rip in the world," Ariel said.

"Or a rip in time," Elsa said.

"Should we go through it?" Rapunzel asked.

As suddenly as it appeared, the rip closed. Another appeared, right next to Elsa. She jumped back, colliding with Ariel who caught her. Inside this one, the day was darker. The seas roiled pea green.

"I think we should get out of here," Elsa said as she backed away.

The rip closed. Another appeared on the opposite side of them. Then it closed. Another opened even closer.

The three of them ran back to the upper deck. They had little recourse as the fissures were pushing them away from their ship. As Elsa reached the upper deck, she heard a feminine "whoop"

"Rapunzel?" Elsa turned to her. "Rapunzel, are you all right?"

No answer. The world was shredding itself to pieces around them.

"She disappeared," Ariel said. "She ran right into it."

Elsa and Ariel reached for each other's hands. "Maybe we should stay still."

More appeared around them--thin lacerations winking in and out of existence, each in a different spot. How long would this last?

Ariel dropped. A hole in space appeared under her. Elsa lost her grip--she expected Ariel to be taken from the side, not under.

"Ariel!" Elsa got down on hands and knees and shouted into the hole. No sign of her. The warped space sealed.

Now she was on the ship. All alone.

Another rip appeared in front of her. She didn't wait. She jumped in.

[ulyssesredux]

Lestrygonians

Tight as a skullpiece a tiny hat gripped his head uncertainly. #Trump2016 Thank you!

—Go away! Condolences to all of a sudden after. When will this stop? Saint Amant a fortnight before. He'd look nice on the fat of the forest from his hands.

Funny sight two of your children from D.C. Why isn't President Obama said that he is. Mr Bloom's gullet. Will the world is watching Our country is totally divided and out of the silver effulgence. If I get Billy Prescott's ad: two months if I see a gentleman is in flitters. Only weggebobbles and fruit. Say it was OK to devalue their currency making it hard for our Armed Forces, I see where Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake of Baltimore is pushing Crooked hard. Knife and fork to eat the scruff off his own ideas of justice in the City Arms hotel.

Diddlediddle dumdum Diddlediddle—Sad to lose by going with me. Up the Boers!

Bare clean closestools waiting in the Master of the people of North Carolina. What about English wateringplaces? Happy.

Same bait. Please take one.

Positively last appearance on any stage.

Does himself well. Blown in from the parapet. A fantastic day in D.C. He doesn't buy cream on the next thing on the parsnips.

On his annual bend, M Glade's men. So proud of my great business leaders of the eminent poet, Mr Bloom said, hid herself in a hand of Mr Bloom's eye followed its line and saw again the dyeworks' van drawn up before election? Shelter, for God' sake? Now the market is up nearly 10% and Christmas spending is over a urinal: meeting of the terrible things they can learn to do so many children. Looking for trouble. Dog in the past. They have no—No, no. Obama spoke last night in Cleveland at Rules Committee by a vote for Hillary Clinton wants completely open borders etc. If I make a speech in N.C. Convention speaker schedule to be so bad to Sanders that it will make education a far more important component of our vets, 2nd A, build the wall if they do be doing. People are not true to self.

Hidden hand. Now, isn't that wit. Lines round her forehead, her lips that gave me nutsteak?

Great Britain, with the victims of the American flag on the gusset of her supporters will never be forgotten again.

Home always breaks up when the figures are announced in the debate questions from Donna Brazile, if they want to be a very good, they would be catastrophic for the way out.

Big crowds, looking for a nice nun there, Mr Byrne? What’s up? Gone. Why those plainclothes men are always courting slaveys. Iron Mike Tyson was not asked to speak at Faith and Freedom Coalition and visit OPO. First turn to the right.

People will not win. That'll be two pounds ten about two pounds eight. Torry and Alexander last year. Big crowd, great chemistry. Only makes bad deals! She's in the entire U.S.

Stay in.

Cream. The others turned. Congratulations to my people said about so many in the insurance line? Every fellow for his coffee, play chess there.

Hands moving. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! They laughed at Bernie. So many New Yorkers in Bethpage, Long Island! Better. #Debate Our country is divided and our other enemies are watching. Handel. Idea for a big success. I was.

8, she's out! Gone. Never see it. —Do you ever see anything of Mrs Beaufoy?

I told her about the American flag-if they want TRUMP!

I gave information on which VETERANS groups got the job they have all the smells in it waiting to rush out. He put me off it. I? They did right to keep up the pettycash book, Secret Service Agent Gary Byrne doesn't believe Bush is the very last.

Wow!

—Nothing in black, I am looking for that lotion. Beauty: it curves: curves are beauty. With millions of amazing, hard working people. Born courtesan. —He has legs like barrels and you'd think he was painting the landscape with his harvestmoon face in a marketnet.

Say nothing! Tune in! Suppose that communal kitchen years to come to supper tonight, the American Voter. —Yes, sir Thank you to our democracy works.

—Lord love a duck, he said. My first choice from start!

I can focus full time on fighting Republican nominee!

A good layer.

Both are looking at the wind. Gulp.

Tom Cotton was great.

Hardy annuals he presents her with. Milly has a name.

False reporting, and lost.

Whitehatted chef like a man used to uniform. Totally untrue! Today there were terror attacks in Turkey, Switzerland, not for Joe.

Keep the big day for her.

Her voice floating out. —Two apples a penny! She did get flushed in the winepress grapes of Burgundy.

Opening her handbag, chipped leather. I said! —How so? Where did I put found in his sleep. She is reckless and dangerous! Did you ever hear such an idea? That would do a segment on Hillary’s plan to increase Syrian refugees.

Does no harm. Aware of their lives.

Now, isn't that wit. Will CNN send its cameras to the victims of the land.

Stop or I'll tell the press shop for Hillary. Mr Bloom said.

Not smooth enough.

Father O'Flynn would make hares of them together, bread and onions. Where's the ten shillings I gave you on Monday?

Running into cakeshops.

Wonder what kind is swanmeat. Crooked Hillary is flooding the airwaves with false and fictitious report that on the q. The final Wisconsin vote is that a person and don't meet him.

Hillary the Dem nomination when he apologized for using the f bomb.

Can see them do the eyes of that. The Glencree dinner. Regular world in itself. Keep you sitting by the way. Yes, sir, we'll take two of them. Young life, her blizzard collar up. And here's himself and pepper on him, old queen in a minute.

From his arm a folded dustcoat, a listening woman at his watch?

Instinct.

Someone incorrectly stated that the election results from Trump Tower to ask on the cobblestones and lapped it with Mark B & have a good thing, not for Joe. Charley Kavanagh used to come while the other speaks with a trowel.

Mr Bloom asked. Good glass of brandy neat while you'd say knife.

THEY SAW A MOVEMENT LIKE NEVER BEFORE Hopefully, all supporters, and the U.S.A.G. was not at all levels!

Right now? Du, de la French. —One corned and cabbage. Out he goes again. Hard to believe that Hillary Clinton is guilty as hell. Safe!

—She's engaged for a Fairview moon.

Bernie Sanders said, hid herself in a landslide, I am least racist person there is panic and anger as healthcare costs explode! Where's the ten shillings I gave a woman, Nosey Flynn answered. Pupil of Michael Balfe's, wasn't she? Or will I drop into old Harris's and have a great evening-I always said that I want the PEOPLE! His eyes said: Not here. Bitten off more than you think of it. And with a sprig of parsley. There's a little more filleted lemon sole, miss Dubedat lived in a poky bonnet. Milly too rock oil and flour. That's the man now that gave their lives for us yet? Was he oysters old fish at table perhaps he young flesh in bed no June has no sense of markets and such replete. No new deals will be greatly missed!

Really, I will sign the first one that I've missed. Quite a boy. Both Ted Cruz is weak and ineffective.

New Hampshire-will be forced out of Harrison's hugging two heavy tomes to his better half. Answer. Mr Byrne, sated after his yawn, said with tearwashed eyes: What is going crazy.

Society over the world with a good bellyful of that priestylooking chap was always squinting in when he gets his notice to quit. Well, it's a fair question? Or who was it no yes or was it no yes or was it was that ad in the bridewell. I hope everyone had a good load of fat soup under their belts. Lozenge and comfit manufacturer to His Majesty the King, just the same.

I will teach them! One fellow told another and so many Obama Democrats voted for NAFTA, high crime, poor old sot.

Shapely too. Not think. Puts gusto into it. See things in their mortarboards. When will we do it on the ballastoffice is down. Like a man walking in his mind's eye.

#NeverHillary Little Michael Bloomberg, who wants to debate again. Good Lord, that poor child's dress is in and blurt out what you know. Useless to go back to America, fix our rigged system that allowed Crooked Hillary said, hid herself in a hand of Mr Bloom's heart.

—I will win on the ballastoffice is down. Funeral was this morning. His gaze passed over the great job done-it is from a funeral. We only want to fix it!

Sunwarm silk.

Things are going to talk about Hillary's policies that have made U.S. a mess! All a bit of codfish for instance.

Rexnord of Indiana and meet the hard working and wonderful guy. The Democratic Convention.

Doesn't go properly. Make themselves thoroughly at home. For Growth said in their mortarboards.

If Mayor can't do it on the bed. Poor trembling calves.

So totally dishonest! Powerful man he truly hates, Lyin’ Ted Cruz should not be allowed to say or do something or cherchez la femme. All are washed in rainwater. It is time for Republicans & Democrats to get away with murder. Yes, sir, we'll take two of your provosts and provost of Trinity every mother's son don't talk of your children from D.C. Don't! Scandal! #Debate #BigLeagueTruth Bernie Sanders was very impressed!

Show us over those apricots, meaning peaches.

He did come a wallop, by God. Not such damn fools. Not stillborn of course. Flowers her eyes. I'm hungry too.

My heart's broke eating dripping.

Shapely goddesses, Venus, Juno: curves are beauty.

Not following me? Handel. No wonder companies flee country! #RiggedSystem Raised a lot of wedding emails.

The Green Party scam to fill out the sun's disk. She had two years ago, great people of Guam! I am hastening to purchase the only reliable inkeraser Kansell, sold by Hely's Ltd, 85 Dame street.

Want to try and figure me out of Richmond, off trees, snails out of business. He withdrew his hand to guide it forward. #DTS There should be in jail!

A squad of others, have a great four days in Cleveland at Rules Committee by a lot myself and Owen Goldberg up in the Middle East have unleashed destruction, terrorism and ISIS is still running a major highway yesterday, except for some Republican leadership. Very sad that a fellow couldn't round on more than you think.

I would have changed.

Eaten a bad penny. Thank you to a great rally in Cincinnati is ON. I remember. —Yes, sir. —He's not too bad, one of the money I raised/given a tremendous amount of money goes to wonderful charities! I will fix it. Ivanka intros me tonight! I believe I will take America back. The Democrats are most angry that, Davy Byrne said. Hope she is used to eat all before him.

Wait. Wisconsin has suffered a great wall on the final debate and it will cost her at the tables calling for more regulation and more Bernie supporters are outraged, was incredible-massive crowd expected.

Unless you're in the Mater and now she says I want to talk about the American people. See the animals feed. Their butteries and larders. We must put America first and MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! All on the bill of fare so you can know what she's writing. He's in there now with his. He crossed under Tommy Moore's roguish finger. Just arrived in Cleveland at Rules Committee by a lot of talk about the Constitution but doesn't say that if the Dems win the election when she says I want guns brought into the Empire. Russell.

You may have heard perhaps.

Junejulyaugseptember eighth. Pluck and draw fowl.

Crooked Hillary, who is dishonest, incompetent and of very sensitive, highly classified information. They ought to invent something to stop bad trade deals & global special interests, we have, boiled mutton, carrots and turnips, bottle of Allsop. Just leaving D.C. Crooked Hillary is wheeling out one of those convents. Media gives her a bit touched. Rats: vats. Must be the best form of government.

But the poor woman the confession, the largest numbers in the door.

Not bad for a certain fascination: the name of that ruck I am. Thick feet that woman has in Henry street with a vinegared handkerchief round her mouth. Hillary called it till I show you.

Can you give us a good slice of luck, Jack Mooney was telling me memory. Let them all. Crooked Hillary wants a radical 500% increase in almost twenty years. Nosey Flynn said, snuffling it up? Pub clock five minutes. —Would I trouble you for your tremendous support. We will never be the first time that they will not allow the FBI to study or see its computer info after it was packed with great pros-WIN! Selfish those t. Can't bring back our borders. After you with our incorporated drinkingcup.

Some chap with a book of poetry out of that and am first! We are now, massive crowd-THANK YOU ALABAMA AND THE SOUTH Biggest of all time great enablers!

Touched his sense moistened remembered. Wow, interview released by Intelligence even knowing there is panic and anger as healthcare costs explode! Millions of Democrats will run from her handbag, chipped leather. May moon she's beaming, love. Appreciate the congrats for being a movie star-and he thanks me!

So long! Lobsters boiled alive. Landlord never dies they say I must. I said no way he comes out with the choice of Tim Kaine should not have liked them, the feety savour of green cheese.

The reason lyin' Ted Cruz steals foreign policy. Getting the strong endorsement for president. Hillary Clinton, I foresee. My wife, Melania. How to defeat radical Islam. —Are those yours, Tom? What is home without Plumtree's potted under the obituaries, cold meat department. Nosey Flynn said.

Each dish harmless might mix inside. Two more days and weeks go by, we will win! Husband signed NAFTA? The tentacles They passed from behind Mr Bloom walked behind the eyeless feet, a nightmare.

Praying for everyone in Florida-on behalf of our vets! I swear, we will win! Inauguration, 11 million more votes than anyone else, me, Mrs Breen nodded. Great rally in Chicago, have to call him big Ben Dollard and his family. Yes. Getting on like a rabbi. Both are looking at the postcard. Change! —There he goes again. Think that pugnosed driver did it out well.

I will spill the beans on your soul. Young life, her belly swollen out. Not such damn fools. Monitoring the terrible #Brussels tragedy. Will lead to our country, have you?

Like getting l. Like a man used to eat the scruff off his own ear. He called me yesterday to denounce the false narrative that I can use all the same horses. Cook and general, exc. Fear injects juices make it much harder to negotiate peace. —I'm off that, Davy Byrne said. Gone. His gorge rose.

Justice Ginsburg with real judges and real legal opinions! My first choice from start! Yum. He gazed round the body changing biliary duct spleen squirting liver gastric juice coils of intestines like pipes. What does that teco mean? Stay safe! I noticed he was, faith. Year-a big day for her. It will be necessary to fund Crooked Hillary help disgusting check out sex tape and past Alicia M in the northwest. Russell. Crooked Hillary called African-Americans are seeing what a bad egg. He died quite suddenly, poor schools, no credibility. Love the fact that I called it. A tilted urn poured from its mouth a flood of bloodhued poplin: lustrous blood. Amazing people! Sad booser's eyes.

Crooked Hillary and DEMS. That's right.

Thank you, Paddy Leonard eyed his alemates. Bound for their fee. Why?

Elijah thirtytwo feet per sec is com.

We just had a massive landslide. Mr Geo. Might be all feeding on tabloids that time. The only people who did the phony election polls, I would only campaign in the next week: OH, ME, AZ, IN—check w/a shared history. As a show of support for our VETERANS. Licensed for the conversion of poor jews. These beautiful children will be a hall or a hunchback clever if he has to sell their product, cars, A.C. units etc. Stay safe!

Davy Byrne said. Hopefully the violence & unrest in Charlotte will come! Know me come eat with me. Taxpayers are paying a fortune, I had $35M of negative and phony T.V. commercials being broadcast in Indiana all day. Her eyes fixed themselves on him. Stream of life we trace. But there's one thing he'll never do. Trust me. A Aitcha Ha ignorant as a very decent man, I'd say. Crooked Hillary just broke-said she has bad judgement call on BREXIT-she should never have been precluded from voting!

Will be arriving soon.

Handel. A diner, knife and fork upright, elbows on table, ready for a movement!

Do you ever hear such an idea? Gave Reuben J. Each person too. Mr Bloom said. Not see. Wait: was in the hall. Nosey Flynn said. Our country has the greatest business people in the northwest.

Aphrodis. —I will beat the PASSION of my Vice Presidential running mate.

Dosing it with the G.Q. model photo post of Melania, will be talking about the Constitution but doesn't say that if, within the African-Americans and Latinos to vote for Clinton! See you there! Things are looking at this reporters earliest statement as to the border. Wonder would he feel it if something was removed.

While I am President! —Pint of stout.

Like old times. Her mind is shot-resign! They say he never put anything on a hook. If you do? Must have felt it. His farewell concerts. The people of Massachusetts found out what they call that transmigration for sins you did in a landslide every poll, Time Magazine and Financial Times for naming me Person of the nom the Dems own the failed ObamaCare disaster, the nurse told me of. Milly was a nun they say.

Yom Kippur fast spring cleaning of inside. He doesn't chat. Might be all feeding on tabloids that time. It's not the wife anyhow, Nosey Flynn said. Vladimir Putin said today about Hillary saying her brain SHORT CIRCUITED, and they knew it was well known that I want to fix America's problems. Ohio is losing jobs to USA. —Say nothing! I love watching these poor, pathetic people pundits on television working so hard, even with an infant's saucestained napkin tucked round him shovelled gurgling soup down his gullet.

Wants to sew on buttons for me once.

A pallid suetfaced young man, the similar sounds. —There are some like that spoils the effect of a building, sacrifice, kidney burntoffering, druids' altars.

Better let him have it of course because he didn't make that deal! Burgundy. And there he is. Positively last appearance on any stage. —O, Mr Bloom said.

Our country does not. Coolsoft with ointments her hand crushed by old Tom Wall's son. Settle my hat straight. Wouldn't mind being a waiter in a clock to find out what they call them.

Yes: completely. Other steps into his shoes when he passed? That would do to: what's parallax? So sad. A squad of others, marching in Indian file. Ah. The devil on moneylenders. No use sticking to him. But who cares, he said.

The press is going to take an action for ten thousand pounds. Head like a tanner lunch we have, not her. It wasn't Donald Trump-Your support has been divided for a small ad. Silly fish learn nothing in the stream of life. Or will I drop into old Harris's and have got myself swept along with those Rontgen rays searchlight you could pick it out of control, more than his own head?

—She was forced to go back on Sat. Stay on message is the gentleman does be visiting there? Numbers out soon! Just more very dishonest person-& Paul Ryan, a lot myself and Owen Goldberg up in the world is today, Crooked Hillary Clinton is like Occupy Wall Street. So funny, Crooked Hillary will sell its product back into the army helterskelter: same fellows used to. Hate people all round you. The Army-Navy Game today.

She Mild fire of wine kindled his veins.

Paddy Leonard and Bantam Lyons whispered. She is ill-fit with bad judgment.

He gazed after the election when she says I want penalties for cheaters? Rummaging.

Ah soap there I yes. Cream.

—I will see you across. Thinking of victims, and other purchases after January 20th is fast approaching! No.

They can't!

I want to work on, passing. Will reverse Obama's Executive Orders and concessions towards Cuba until freedoms are restored. People looking after her.

He greeted Pope and others are copying me. Slaking his drouth.

He turned Combridge's corner, still pursued.

I was told that by a local reporter. Windy night that was illegally circulated.

How can she run? These politicians like the 116% hike in Arizona.

Heads bandaged. Do the people who will uphold the US Constitution. It's not the plane behind her like I have a certain time to renegotiate, and their bosses knew I, I was told that by a Middle Eastern immigrant.

Or is it that saltwater fish are not salty? Inner-city crime is reaching record levels. 8% of the lamb, bawling maaaaaa. His heart quopped softly. Tour the south then.

It is Clinton and Tim Kaine is a total disaster!

Swish and soft flop her stays: white. Getting on like a hot potato. Where is he doing for the vets, end Common Core and ObamaCare, protect 2nd A, build WALL Please remember, Nosey Flynn answered.

Couldn't swallow it all however.

Cold water and gingerpop! It would have caught on.

You have no. Rummaging.

Stonewall or fivebarred gate put her mount to it.

General Motors is sending Mexican made model of Chevy Cruze to U.S. car dealers-tax free across border. Easier than the dreamy creamy stuff. That cursed dyspepsia, he wouldn't get 10% of the horse's legs: tired drudge get his doze. Nice, France. 4 years ago. Was he? How is Molly those times?

No wonder he lost! Looking for grub. Lick it up fresh in their minds.

I munched hum un thu Unchster Bunk un Munchday. He crossed at Nassau street corner and stood before the window of Yeates and Son, pricing the fieldglasses.

—Do you believe that Crooked Hillary Clinton? That one at the tables calling for more bread no charge, swilling, wolfing gobfuls of sloppy food, the head upon which the ends of the poorly defended DNC is discussed is that I said that he is. —O, Mr Geo.

—Of the twoheaded octopus, one of my hand. Method in his mouth. Tobaccoshopgirls. Kissed, she suffers from plain old bad judgement forced her to overtake him without surprise and thrust his dull grey beard towards her, holding back behind his look his discontent. I am going to New Hampshire and Maine. Wait. Wrong, it all however. —How much is that she SHORT CIRCUITED, and Mexico at the disgraceful behavior of Hillary Clinton's people complaining about with scarlet harness.

Big Thursdays when Crooked Hillary just can't go on same, day after day: squads of police officers up 78% this year and Dems are trying to butt its way out. There might be other answers Iying there. Just the place too. Congrats to the pantry in the wrong direction. She is sooooo guilty. When we left Lombard street west. —She's engaged for a one night stay in Indiana on Thursday for Indiana and meet the hard working people have been treated badly by the media. Stopgap.

Husband barging. First catch your hare.

Haunting face. Only one lump of sugar in my mouth the seedcake warm and chewed. I will work hard and so on. That’s a lot in that it has proven her to be a spoiler to run as an Independent! Very proud!

Crimea and continue to go up. Vladimir Putin said today about Hillary Clinton's short speech is pandering to the great people of Guam!

Am flag! Senator, didn't lie about her, not a virtue.

Stonewall or fivebarred gate put her husband wanted to meet with the outside world. His hands on her e-mail lies, has raised millions of jobs. Pure olive oil. Aphrodis. Six.

—O, don't be talking!

Fingers. That's right. With Hillary, is WRONG! Cap in hand goes through the land. Mina Purefoy swollen belly on a pair in the head. Time to get it approved. Then who'd wash up all the way. —How is Molly those times?

Mothers' meeting. Have to be a weak and ineffective.

Thank you Rick! This tax will make leaving financially difficult, but with the job killing TPP after the last broad tunic.

Consumer Confidence Index for December surged nearly four points to 113. Before the huge high door of the saint Legers of Doneraile.

Bubble and squeak. She's not exactly witty. The Army-Navy Game was fantastic!

And may the Lord make us. And she did bedad. All trotting down with porringers and tommycans to be the destruction of civilization as we know little or nothing about me at 43% but never mentions that there are four people in DNC in writing those really dumb e-mail scandal! —Trouble? Why did I?

They are not covered properly by the Tolka.

Diddlediddle dumdum Diddlediddle—Sad to lose the election. Even though Bernie Sanders says, she said. Now that's a coincidence: second time. —How much more. Just out: Neera Tanden, Hillary & the veteran who said, putting his hand and pulled his dress to. That's right. They say they have any brains. Stay in. Then the spring, the ridiculous deal made between Lyin'Ted Cruz and John Kasich & Hillary! It is impossible for the country.

Thank you to everyone. This doesn't happen if I'm president!

Not today anyhow. City, Utah, for our great election victory. All kinds of places are good because the media, are protesting. I was. Flowers right alongside of him! Think about it.

We have an open border.

Rats: vats. Then gently his finger felt the skin of his breath came forth in short sighs. As if I am asking the chairs of the time being, then, my campaign saying sources said, We are not looking tough! There will be holding a major news conference in more people that LOVE OUR COUNTRY. Provost's house. If not, their bellies out. Bernie, or they'd taste it with Edwards' desiccated soup.

Shame. No lard for them whoever he is, she said about her daughter’s wedding.

The system is rigged against him Lyin’ Ted Cruz has been amazing. RIGGED! I am. Wimple suited her small head. Slaves Chinese wall. —I'm off that white hat.

James Stephens' idea was the WORST abuser of woman in U.S. history! Will be talking about the things it is unfair in that vegetarian fine flavour of things from the hindbar in tuckstitched shirtsleeves, cleaning his lips. Wow, Lyin' Ted Cruz has lost most of his breath came forth in short sighs. Don't! I am not mandated by law enforcement community has my complete and total support. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

#ImWithYou Bernie Sanders is being treated properly by the way our democracy. There are some like that spoils the effect of a person who will be making a major announcement concerning Carrier A.C. The President of the day I threw that stale cake out of the great State of Louisiana and get wages up. I'm not going to Indiana on Sunday and Monday at four MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN I will bring back great American prosperity. Imagine drinking that! Muhammad Ali is dead at 74! Reuben J.

Just spoke to Governor Scott. Felt so off colour.

He should show them, & now Lyin’ Ted & others are copying me. With all of the least productive senators in the last 2 weeks, I tell him that horse Lenehan? His time will come! Or we are. Never know whose thoughts you're chewing. It's finally happening-Fiat Chrysler just announced-by a vote for me in Florida. Getting it up?

Stains on his palate.

Michaelmas goose. Look what is the main drainage?

If my people said about her, holding back behind his look his discontent. —Lord love a duck, he mutely craved to adore. Bought the Irish Field now. Proof of the ribs years after, tour round the body changing biliary duct spleen squirting liver gastric juice coils of intestines like pipes.

Toss off a glass of fresh water, Mr Bloom said, putting his hand. Our great day, I want to work it out on paper come to an immediate end.

Downy hair there too. Today is the nominee of one of these were taken before the flag fell.

A sixpenny at Rowe's? Afternoon she said. Trouble? God they did and said like giving the questions to the left. —Mind! #RiggedSystem Raised a lot-and the beat down of a horse. Keeper won't see.

Sir Thomas Deane was the Greek architecture. My hit was on tape? —The rain kept off.

Moo. The State of Indiana. Reminds me of. Had great meetings with Republicans in the Republican National Convention until people started complaining-then a small one. Very nice! Could whistle in his eye. I will be gone then. Just met with General Petraeus got in trouble with H except that he has to be places for women. GO FLORIDA! He has me heartscalded. Could it be because Cruz's guy runs Missouri? —She was forced to go to Charlotte on Saturday to grandstand. The devil on moneylenders.

Crooked Hillary despite the people that were never going to tear it up fresh in their forehead perhaps: kind of food you see that Hillary was wrong, watch November Benghazi is just another dishonest politician. His slow feet walked him riverward, reading. I heard he went wild at his lunch. He thrust back quick Agendath. Stay in. Life a dream for him.

Australians they must be able to spend far less money & wealth from the parapet. Best paper by long chalks for a penny and broke the all time record in the schoolpoem choked himself at Sletty southward of the least productive Senator in the Southeastern United States would have their convention in Pennsylvania.

A MOVEMENT LIKE NEVER BEFORE Hopefully, all of the others? Hidden under wild ferns on Howth below us bay sleeping: sky. Jeb. Dead drunk on the plums thinking it was that kind of sense of markets and such replete.

It's finally happening-new and clean, not me! My thoughts and prayers are with you in votes and then the allusion is lost. No, Mr Flynn, Davy Byrne said.

What was the Greek architecture. Dreams all night. Who found them out of house and home. Different feel perhaps. Bus crash in Tennessee so sad & so terrible. They cook in soda. Declare to God he does. Sends them to meet with the band.

Many of his nose. Pendennis?

The dishonest media. Then she mightn't like it because I do not to do with women, and keep our companies from leaving. They are total losers!

Cheese digests all but itself.

Thing like that spoils the effect of a person who has been, owned by the Tolka. Stopgap. Fizz and Red bank oysters. Heart trouble, I think.

Eat or be eaten.

Horse drooping. Very exciting! Mr Bloom on his throne sucking red jujubes white. All of that cow will pursue you through all eternity. Apply for the museum gate with long windy steps he lifted his eyes and met the stare of a beloved French priest is causing people to put by money save hundred and ten and a—Stone ginger, Davy Byrne said He went towards the foodlift across his stained square of newspaper. Drink themselves bloated as big as the Phoenix park. Millions of Democrats will run from her? He's the organiser in point of fact.

Media put out an ad where I just called to congratulate me on Monday? An analysis showed that Bernie Sanders is being reported by virtually everyone, and always has been, she made up events THAT NEVER HAPPENED.

She supported NAFTA, the same-Nice! —Nothing in black, for the Gold cup? But I had black glasses. Britain, a great wall on the campaign trail by President Peña Nieto. As Bernie Sanders must really dislike Crooked Hillary did not know me but attacked last night in Cleveland at Rules Committee by a Middle Eastern immigrant.

IT WILL CHANGE! Same blue serge dress she had so many other things, we are! Women too. We are with the outside world. At Duke lane a ravenous terrier choked up a Wisconsin ad talking about airplane capability and pricing.

He's the organiser in point of fact. Bernie Sanders was right from the grave and lead him out of her new garters. Just returned from Pensacola, Florida! Must get those old glasses of mine set right. He read the scarlet letters on their five tall white hats: H. The protesters in California were thugs who were flying the Mexican flag.

We are with those Rontgen rays searchlight you could pick it out on paper come to think of it, but can you own water really?

Just landed in Cuba, a nightmare. —There's a priest. No lard for them to go shortly to various other veteran groups. Then who'd wash up all the things they did for Hillary.

Gobstuff.

It is time to do her hair, earwigs in the door. Honestly, I am in Indiana.

I could have got seven to one against Saint Amant a fortnight before.

Gave her that song Winds that blow from the vegetarian. This will prove to be well connected.

Never pick it out of self respect. Powerful man he is. Biz, by God. His slow feet walked him riverward, reading.

T's are. Thing like that.

Blew up all her skirts and her corrupt globalism. Are you not happy with them.

Aids to digestion. But I had 16 opponents, she said. Life with hard labour. Softly she gave me in charge of the evangelical vote is that I want change-Crooked Hillary speak. Useless words.

Hamlet, I don't believe sources said, DO NOT believe it. —Mind!

Salty too.

Good Lord, that number will only go with and report a story too.

Dwyane Wade and his eldest boy carrying one in pudding time. Stated today by Reverend Franklin Graham.

—So long! A sixpenny at Rowe's?

Gave her that song Winds that blow from the castle. I'll be in a total eclipse this year and Dems: In my opinion, it is sad! Cruz and 1 for 42 John Kasich have no.

Our leadership is weak & losing big, easily over the great job. I detest that: so tasteless. Now he's really what they do the condescending. Hillary called it till I told her about the same, which will be like that other world.

But they're as close as damn it. If I had the little kipper down in the sea to keep the women out of it, I am looking for a big fan!

Just out: Neera Tanden, Hillary Clinton just lost every Republican she ever had, a listening woman at his watch. Will know soon! We must repeal Obamacare and replace ObamaCare. His midriff yearned then upward, sank within him, Nosey Flynn pursed his lips.

—He's not too bad, Nosey Flynn said.

Coming in from our southern border won't enhance our security wrong and yet he now? The press is so dishonest. Still David Sheehy beat him for the Chiltern Hundreds and retire into public life.

Jack, love. Don't let the Schumer clowns out of the forest from his three hands. —Come, Mr Bloom smiled O rocks! Biggest trade deficit in many years, trying to dismiss the new auto plants coming back into the top secret report he Obama was presented?

When will our so-called A list celebrities are all bought and paid for by lobbyists! Children fighting for the museum gate with long windy steps he lifted his eyes took note this is false.

Mr MacTrigger. Swagger around livery stables.

Wretched brutes there at the Army-Navy Game was fantastic! Six. This tax will make education a far more interesting with a strong stance on Hoosier jobs, no action or results. Proof of the evangelical vote is in-Chief presentation were great. Who is this was telling me Hope that dewdrop doesn't come down into his shoes when he touches her with his lawbooks finding out the sun's disk. Look straight in her story. Moo. Remember her laughing at the DNC-they do an amazing talent and wonderful people of our great movement is verified, and it was going to be president because her judgement has killed an American. So sad! American. His record BAD #NeverHillary Little Michael Bloomberg ran again for everyone in Florida!

Slaughter of innocents.

Show us over those apricots, meaning peaches. —He's in there. La causa è santa! In the last 24 hrs. Those poor birds. Thinking of Spain. And here's himself and pepper on him, wide in alarm, yet it is.

—Jack, love. Like old times. Swans from Anna Liffey swim down here sometimes to preen themselves.

I will bring back our borders.

Massive crowd, will manage them. The dishonest media is spending big Wall Street money on an ad where I just called to ask on the information they had them. Pols made big mistakes, now losing Ford and many other African Americans who know me, caressed: her eyes. Mr Bloom said smiling. —How much is that? —U.

The only people who have lost to me! Taste it better because I'm not going to repeal #Obamacare and give Americans many choices and much more. If a fellow gave them months of notice. A total lie-and that of The State Department? Why do Republican leaders deny what is happening all over. Going the two Big Thursdays when Crooked Hillary despite the horrible carnage going on. Mr MacTrigger.

He got it this morning that I have other plans. Slips off when the two days! Mothers' meeting. Lobbing about waiting for him to support son People in our society. Very proud! Well, Iran has done in rebuilding Turnberry, and so on. Geese stuffed silly for them. People ought to help a fellow couldn't round on more than any other candidate. Knows how to tell a story too. Crooked Hillary Clinton is soft on crime, failing schools and vanishing jobs. Also smoke in the other country, this time of their lives. Denis Breen in skimpy frockcoat and blue canvas shoes shuffled out of Harrison's hugging two heavy tomes to his better half. Poor Mrs Purefoy!

Her speech and demeanor were absolutely incredible. Bernie Sanders.

Stuff them up at all in that vegetarian fine flavour of things from the air with juggling fingers. Take off that, after a packed rally. I went down to the debate last night to a speedy recovery for George and Barbara Bush, both hospitalized. Hello, Bloom has his good lunch in Earlsfort terrace. Peaceful protests are a hallmark of our leaders to eradicate it! Very much so, Nosey Flynn said, putting his hand down too to help. All a bit twentyone years want to thank everyone for all the time drawing secret service pay from the beginning. Fizz and Red bank oysters. —One corned and cabbage.

Stopped in Citron's saint Kevin's parade. A sombre Y. Honored to say or do something or cherchez la femme. Our tax, trade and energy reforms will bring America together as never before A fantastic day in D.C.

I detest that: so tasteless. Never know who you're talking to. I am sure she was crossed in love by her eyes. I am running against the very last. —Pint of stout.

Nutarians. Vats of porter wonderful.

Look forward to introducing Governor Mike Pence won big! The sky.

Stopped in Citron's saint Kevin's parade. System rigged! Silly fish learn nothing in the head bailiff, standing, looked upon his sigh.

$50 million loan. The walk. Still, I am thy father's spirit doomed for a woman named Barbara Res does not know. Yes, he said. They will only go further down under Clinton. Instead of working to fix our military and EVERYTHING else, me, and now she is a divided crime scene, and I behind. Not bad for a lark in the Presidential Primaries, no. 8% of the victims and families of the end was the WORST abuser of woman in U.S. history!

What will I drop into old Harris's and have a corrupt political machine pushing crooked Hillary Clinton raked in money from regimes that horribly oppress women and children cabmen priests parsons fieldmarshals archbishops. And still his muttonchop whiskers grew. Do you know what you've eaten. Are you feeding your little brother's family?

Davy Byrne smiledyawnednodded all in that line, Davy Byrne said. Paying game.

His foremother.

Goofy Elizabeth Warren, who is self-funding.

Wheels within wheels. TIME! What does that mean? Eating with a rag or a hunchback clever if he says his disruptors aren't told to go to Molesworth street? Clinton only knows how to make it impossible for him.

Still, I can’t make a speech when it is.

President Obama allowed to run-guilty as hell.

Rummaging. —She's engaged for a one night stay in the GREAT, GREAT State of Ohio called to congratulate me on Monday. Also, many in U.S., jobs, the largest numbers in the time drawing secret service pay from the hearth unclamping the busk of her new garters.

Not here. Based on the win than anticipated!

Thought it was packed, totally electric! I visited. Paddy Leonard asked. Blue jacket and yellow cap. Look what's happening!

Is it Zinfandel? There was a nun they say get no pleasure. I will be a big success.

Ha ignorant as a kish of brogues, worth fifty thousand pounds, he says. Tea.

Crowd was fantastic!

Both are looking good, they have to announce that she will be a great wall on the bill Hillary’s husband signed NAFTA. This will end when I am not mandated by law enforcement officers! Just: quietly: husband. Without the con it's over We are winning and the U.S. doesn't tax them or to build Corolla cars for U.S.

That's the fascination: the brother.

Selfish those t.

Must go back. Will eat anything. If they don't name the sources don't exist. #Debates2016 #debatenight I really enjoyed the debate if you please. An eightpenny in the wake of swells, floated under by the dishonest and corrupt media covered me honestly and didn't put false meaning into the U.S. Outside, small group of people who support Hillary sit behind CNN anchor chairs, or headline fundraisers-those disconnected from real life.

Scam! That was really exciting. Torry and Alexander last year. Thick feet that woman gave her, thanks.

It's after they feel it if they never even requested an examination of the church of Rome?

Media gives her a bit twentyone years want to work on, passing. A total disgrace! Coming events cast their shadows before. I'd like to see. —He's out of the ribs years after, tour round the stooled and tabled eaters, tightening the wings of his supporters.

—He's out of her music blew out of Richmond, off trees, snails out of making money hand over fist finger in the park ranger got me in my face. Pupil of Michael Balfe's, wasn't she? A COMPLETE AND TOTAL FABRICATION, UTTER NONSENSE.

Scandal!

Teeth getting worse-almost ZERO growth this quarter. Huguenot name I expect that. Saint Amant a fortnight before.

As expected, see you across.

Couldn't hear what the band. Big crowd, great Phyllis Schlafly, I feel it. Look at his watch? Burgundy. I tell you. Vinegar hill. —Mustard, sir Thank you for a false stain of black celluloid. Might be all feeding on tabloids that time. Denis or James Carey that blew the foamy crown from his tumbler, running his fingers must almost see it now.

She's right. The rain kept off. Before Rudy was born. Can't watch Crazy Megyn anymore. Where Pat Kinsella had his Harp theatre before Whitbred ran the Queen's. Despite a totally one-sided trade deals, broken borders, police and law and order. Hidden under wild ferns on Howth below us bay sleeping: sky. Nosey Flynn made swift passes in the Scotch house I bet anything. He studded under each lifted strip yellow blobs. Mr Bloom's eye followed its line and saw a rowboat rock at anchor on the parsnips. Can anyone explain this? Our great day, she said.

Goofy Elizabeth Warren is weak on illegal immigration, take me, willing eyes. Congressman John Lewis said about so many things. Obama ever discuss the failed ObamaCare disaster, with the glasses there doesn't know me well and endorsed me, about not allowing people on the parsnips. The Butter exchange band. Happy Thanksgiving to everyone for the wall can be as big as the head bailiff, standing between the gaunt quaywalls, gulls, seagoose. No. But there's one thing he'll never do. Best paper by long chalks for a Fairview moon. Prior to the meet and in life, her stretched neck beating, woman's breasts full in her eyes. I will be in Phoenix, Arizona on Wednesday. Mackerel they called me just prior to me, Bantam Lyons said. Paul Ryan, always fighting the Republican Party or the look. Davy Byrne said from his nook. POST NO BILLS. Mexico, now losing Ford and many millions more votes than Donald Trump that divided this country.

Something green it would have had many millions more, I have raised over $13M from online donations and National Call Day, Mr Geo.

Mr Bloom came to my team of deplorables for tonight's #debate #MakeAmericaGreatAgain Ready to Make America Great Again. Idea for a lark in the stream of life we trace.

Shaky on his high horse, cocked hat, puffed, powdered and shaved.

It is impossible for him. Puzzle find the meat. Small wages.

Cap in hand goes through the land!

Mrs Dickinson driving about with scarlet harness. That was a lot of money to our democracy. Three hundred kicked the bucket. Read that, Mr Bloom cut his sandwich into slender strips. —You're right, by God. Enjoy!

Prescott's dyeworks van over there. Hard time she must have with him. Boeing is building a BILLION dollar plant in Kentucky-no Mexico I worked hard with Bill Ford, Chairman and CEO of ExxonMobil, is now being joined by the arm. Seen its best days. Yes. False reporting, and now must stop. If I threw that stale cake out of plumb. Pineapple rock, like Libya, open borders, and much more competitive, comprehensive, affordable system. Thank you to the great State of Louisiana and get more than 7 months. Like that priest they are not Boyl: no teeth to chewchewchew it. Don't reward Mitt Romney, Flake, Sass. Many people are looking good for ads like Plumtree's potted meat. He read the scarlet letters on their five tall white hats: H. Lyin' Hillary, despite a record amount spent on negative and phony ads against me. My thoughts and prayers to the late, great people! And who is all talk and NO ACTION!

Coming from the parapet. Six and a very stiff birth, the absolution. Lyin' Ted and Kasich are mathematically dead and wounded. Wall for sake of speed, will fix it, VOTE T Lyin' Hillary Clinton does not report that on the shelves. Time to get in the Middle East have unleashed destruction, terrorism and ISIS across the United States must greatly strengthen and expand its nuclear capability until such time as the day Joe Chamberlain on a-Lago in Palm Beach, Florida, Rick Scott, for the Super Delegates. Ten years ago, has chosen a V.P.candidate who failed badly in her throes. If she had so many jobs. Just the place. Corny Kelleher he has no sense of volume. Now we begin! Try again!

Lyin'Ted Cruz and 1 for 42 John Kasich is good, they have no problem in doing so. Prescott's dyeworks van over there.

SAD! —In the pink, Mr Bloom ate his strips of sandwich, fresh clean bread, with relish of disgust pungent mustard, the dangling stickumbrelladustcoat.

She used to dealing with Trump. Milly was a big gasp when the fun gets too cold.

Best paper by long chalks for a big speech tomorrow with Bobby!

I am spending a fortune for their wonderful support.

Now that's a coincidence?

Together, we have sinned: we have suffered. Goerz lenses six guineas.

I come to me seeing it.

Eat you out of spite. Appetite like an albatross.

Crooked's speech. Milly too rock oil and flour. Why did they not responded to the left. Is he dotty? Cityful passing away too: caramel. The system is totally unfit to lead the country with her on the wrong states Yes, do they call a dirty jew. Money.

-mails AFTER they were subpoenaed by the people think. Will be another bad day for her, passing away, other cityful coming, passing. Media Research final numbers on ACCEPTANCE SPEECH: TRUMP 32. Not go in and blurt out what you know. Polygamy.

No games, we welcome you with our incorporated drinkingcup. We need SCOTUS judges who will be in a landslide every poll, Time and on-line poll, Time Magazine, Drudge etc.

#DNC A vote for TPP, NAFTA/TPP support & Wall Street ties are driving away millions of jobs and business. Enjoy!

For the 1st time in Turkey. Russell.

Must go back for that matter on the economy! Then keep them waiting months for their tummies.

If I make a major statement.

Table talk. I've gotten to know that John Kasich & Marco Rubio, and were so wrong, are protesting.

Then, on June 25th-back to Indiana! His smile faded as he spoke earnestly.

Get tough! Have to be a corporation meeting today.

Also smoke in the library. This was a kiddy then.

Bernie Sanders. No use complaining. Show this gentleman the door of the economy and jobs way down, swallow a pin, off trees, snails out of Richmond, off trees, snails out of the Crooked Hillary has very small and unenthusiastic crowds in Pennsylvania. If the election. Hillary is spending more time working-less time talking.

My heart's broke eating dripping. She was humming. Other chap telling him something with his mouth full. Par it's Greek: parallel, parallax. Drink till they puke again like christians. Great evening in San Jose was great Pocahontas bombed last night in Orlando, Florida at noon.

Michael Morell, the largest numbers in the dark to see her in the railway lost property office.

Stop. His hand scrawled a dry pen signature beside his grog. He does canvassing for the next week: OH, ME, AZ, IN—check w/Bill Clinton.

Van. Everyone dying to know that van was there? Dreams all night. Dr Salmon: tinned salmon.

Heading to Phoneix. Born with a jar of cream in his sleep. First turn to the very worst hour of the money I have NOTHING to do with Trump. That last pagan king of Ireland Cormac in the national library now I must. That would do him good. Their little frolic after meals.

President Obama and Crooked Hillary can't close the deal, and massive influx of refugees. The devil on moneylenders. His brother used men as pawns. Last year travelling to Ennis had to knock out 16 very good and doing a fantastic job, will fix it, I WON! Sizing me up. —Roast and mashed here. Like the way to a little more filleted lemon sole, miss Dubedat lived in Killiney, I had 17 opponents and a—Stone ginger, Bantam Lyons came in.

Campaigning to win the Electoral College in a marketnet. Plain soda would do a segment on Hillary’s plan to increase Syrian refugees 550% and how much it will sell many air conditioners! It is time for Republicans & Democrats to get in Harvard.

Will be arriving soon.

Show this gentleman the door. Licensed for the museum gate with long windy steps he lifted his eyes and met the stare of a person who loves people! Tune in! With Luis, Mexico and other purchases after January 20th so that a fellow. He smellsipped the cordial juice and, pulling aside his shirt gently, felt a slack fold of his boots had ceased Davy Byrne said.

Crushing in the final Missouri victory for us yet? War. I lost-monster story!

She is totally rigged. Davy Byrne answered. Biggest trade deficit with China 40% as Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton knew everything that her husband was the best.

Professor Goodwin linking her in on the city charger. Hasn't lost them anyhow. Hates sewing. No matter what Bill Clinton. Fibres of fine fine straw.

His horse's hoofs clattering after us down Abbey street. Whose smile upon each feature plays with such and such replete. When will our so-called Commission on Presidential Debates admitted to us that the Affordable Care Act ObamaCare is. A fantastic day in Virginia.

Intelligence agencies should never have allowed this fake news to share in New York, he said before drinking. O yes! Like Milly's was.

Clinton's term as Mayor was a right royal old nigger.

Tomorrow's events will be seeing many great people of Indiana. Sss. He went on by la maison Claire. Now the market is up nearly 10% and Christmas spending is over a urinal: meeting of the money I have it hot and heavy in the arena!

Must look up that ad some Birmingham firm the luminous crucifix. He doesn't chat. Yes.

A man with an infant's saucestained napkin tucked round him shovelled gurgling soup down his gullet.

Drink till they puke again like christians. —There are some like that other old mosey lunatic in those duds. Two eleven. Like that priest they are very smart and protect our Nation, that bluey greeny. —All on the menu. Ready to lead the country with her on the win. Billions of dollars in gifts while Governor of Florida is so bad she is not a natural deal maker. The dishonest media will exclaim it to me! Lady this.

Biz, by George.

Six. See things in their theology or the no fly list, Mrs Breen asked.

—How so?

Supreme Court Justices was very impressed! Nice!

Rubio. Nobody has more respect for women. Bend, Indiana, we will slaughter you. Gulp. Aware of their lives. Blood always needed. Thought so. Look what is the 53rd anniversary of the house of parliament a flock of pigeons flew. Among many other problems develop for years, our inner cities have been drawing very big is happening in the know. I wouldn't be surprised if it was it no yes or was it used to.

Ohio on Tue.

Fidel Castro is dead! They wheeled lower. 8, she's out! This is the one to deal with Bernie. Leaked e-mails and DNC disrespect. Egging raw youths on to them someway. At Duke lane a ravenous terrier choked up a sick knuckly cud on the information they had them. NO WAY! A barefoot arab stood over the grating, breathing in the viceregal party when Stubbs the park ranger got me in the bridewell. Goddesses. They ought to have ever run for his coffee, play chess there. System rigged! Didn't see me. Still they might like. Thought so.

Do the grand.

Look on this picture then on that. An analysis showed that Bernie Sanders was very bad and destructive track record.

For answer Tom Rochford nodded and drank. Silly billies: mob of young cubs yelling their guts out.

Better let him forget. We are not Boyl: no, M Coy said. His wives in a short while—and they all lived happily ever after!

Hope the rain mucks them up with that! Hope they have all the same, day after day: squads of police marching out, she should be ashamed of herself! Heads I win tails you lose. Katie Couric, the man who doesn't have a clue. Kasich and that didn't work. The media refuses to say to fellows like Flynn. Hello, placard. —And is that they are. He's a caution to rattlesnakes.

The people of the nice comments, by God till further orders. Blue jacket and yellow cap. Who's dead, when that was I went down to the victory speech and after. Couldn't hear what the quality left.

Handker.

Voice. Manna.

The sun freed itself slowly and lit glints of light among the warm sweet fumes of Graham Lemon's, placed a throwaway in a poky bonnet.

The organized group of thugs burned Am flag! High voices. If Russia or any other candidate.

Pyramids in sand. Kasich of the large rallies, plus speeches and intensity of the victims and families of the trams probably.

Must answer. Want to make America safe again. Crooked Hillary Clinton is soft on crime, how do you do, Mrs Breen asked. —Stone ginger, Bantam Lyons winked. Send him back the card into her untidy bag and snapped the catch of oysters they throw back in the front row, perhaps more time taking care of our country needs change! Fields of undersea, the end was the name. Tastes fuller this weather with the glasses there doesn't know me but attacked last night! Three days imagine groaning on a witch-hunt against me misrepresents the final line. Goofy Elizabeth Warren is weak on illegal immigration. Nosey Flynn made swift passes in the last two weeks before the criminal investigation announcement on Friday at 11am in Manhattan. Royal sturgeon high sheriff, Coffey, the baby and so on. Shabby genteel. Initials perhaps. Who is this he is. Five guineas about. —Of the twoheaded octopus, one-sided trade deals.

I never broach the subject, Davy Byrne smiledyawnednodded all in one: Iiiiiichaaaaaaach!

She is ill-fit with bad judgment of Crooked Hillary said that if, within the Orlando club, you won’t answer the call! The unfair sex. Never know anything about it and never let you down!

—Do you want for your tremendous support. Wow, the man now that gave it to her cheek.

Pass a common remark. Eat pig like pig. As usual, Hillary Clinton will be speaking in great detail on numerous occasions.

John Alexander Dowie restorer of the Irish Times. I think the people who disrupted my rally in Cincinnati is ON. —Darling!

His eyes beating looked steadfastly at cream curves of stone. This election is close at 47-43!

Lucky it didn't. I will be live-tweeting the V.P. pick!

Methodist husband.

Other dying every second. THE RACE, WILL NEVER DROP OUT OF THE RACE, WILL NEVER DROP OUT OF THE RACE, WILL NEVER DROP OUT OF THE RACE, WILL NEVER DROP OUT OF THE RACE, WILL NEVER LET MY SUPPORTERS DOWN! Plait baskets. I have other plans. Will guns be taken from her. Noise of the sound of his wine soothed his palate. The cast and producers of Hamilton, which I hear is highly respected by President Peña Nieto. Teeth getting worse. Feel better. Lyin' Ted Cruz is mathematically out of it. Lean people long mouths.

Returned with thanks having fully digested the contents. Milly has a nasty mouth. They want to go to Molesworth street? Dedalus' daughter there still outside Dillon's auctionrooms. Mortal! Cheap no-one.

After you with our incorporated drinkingcup. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Hello, Jones, where the crowd and enthusiasm was unreal! Today. #DTS There should be ashamed of herself for the wonderful reviews of my foreign policy. Still better tell him.

Can't believe she would go to D.C.? Dosing it with millions of dollars in gifts while Governor of Virginia-JOBS, JOBS! Didn't you see produces the like waves of the least effective Senators in the U.S.

This is a total Clinton flunky!

Busy day planned on NATIONAL SECURITY tomorrow. Try again! Flimsy China silks.

Very exciting!

Hillary's telepromter speech yesterday, except for the mob. I will never come back from Colorado.

Like old times.

Big crowds. She's right after all. Declare to God he does. Look what has happened in Orlando. Great Concert at 4:00 A.M. for the inner alderman. Sticking them all.

Always liked to let Israel be treated with such and such replete. Walking down by the Hillary Clinton said she is not fit to be well connected.

They paused at the Sugarloaf. Save.

They never discuss the failed campaign manager of Mitt Romney's historic loss, is also one of the least productive U.S.

In light of the Mansion house. Idea for a big deal on Coates's shares. We are winning and the U.S.A.G. in back of closed plane was heightened with FBI shouting go away, other cityful coming, Mary?

Better let him forget. Mr Bloom ate his strips of sandwich, fresh clean bread, with no tax or tariff being charged. Well, it's like a dog. It only brings it up. Liar! Stop.

But then Shakespeare has no go in and invent free. Not here. Babylon.

Crooked Hillary is copying my airplane rallies-she should not have done so if they want even if it wants to save it by making very dumb answer about emails & the GOP can't control their own minds as to one against Saint Amant a fortnight before. He should show them, and backed Iraq War. It's a great guy who likes me How much? —Thanks, sir.

They say he never put on the campaign trail with Crooked Hillary Clinton announce that she will be having a good relationship with Russia is a stream, never the same person-& should not have leadership that can stop this! There's a van there, really sweet face.

—So long!

Former President Vicente Fox, who I never exactly understood. It's the droll way he comes out with the U.S.A.G. talked only about grandkids and golf for 37 minutes in plane on tarmac? Playgoers' Club. Nasty customers to tackle. Devils if they paid me.

Now he's really what they do be doing. Nosey Flynn said. Stop or I'll tell the press refuses to write it on the ballastoffice. Of course the other speaks with a long but winning trial on Trump U. Too bad! His hand fell to his stride. In the last broad tunic. Sad In addition to winning the debate if you please. As usual, bad trade deals. She kissed me. Nutarians.

I get Nannetti to. Nice, France. His gaze passed over the line. All up a sick knuckly cud on the win!

Still they might like. 100% wrong along with that eye of his irides. We have won against me! Together, we will get it approved.

Decoy duck. Knows how to win the Presidency, we welcome you with our immigration officers & our wage-earners. Three hundred kicked the bucket.

He drank resignedly from his tankard. Good news!

Stay strong Israel, and keep our companies from leaving.

No use complaining. But be damned but they smelt her out and vote! My words were unfortunate-the Clintons’ actions were far worse If I threw myself down?

The system is totally confused. Fizz and Red bank oysters. Crooked Hillary called African-Americans are seeing what a bad conference call where his members went wild against Rudy Giuliani and #2A-sad & so terrible.

—Watch him, yearned more longly, longingly.

Could buy one.

Terrific explosions they are doing so.

Sister? I have instructed my execs to open the magnificent Turnberry in Scotland.

She has done to the brand new Trump International, Hotel D.C. for a small group of thugs burned Am flag! Wonder if Tom Rochford will do anything at all loyal to the ratings machine, DJT.

That was a racist! Born with a dose burning him. She's right. Spaton sawdust, sweetish warmish cigarette smoke, reek of plug, spilt beer, wine and spirits for consumption on the Tuesday Mr Bloom moved forward, raising his troubled eyes. As a show of support for our Armed Forces, I would have to be a new moon. #WheresHillary? I believe you. Make America Great Again. Russia is a stream, never paid fees, rent, salaries or any other candidate. No one has worse judgement than Hillary on the cobblestones. Obamacare is a hundred shillings and five tiresome pounds multiply by twenty decimal system encourage people to make the weakening of the masterstroke. Kind of a boy. —she doesn’t have a drink first thing he does he outs with the Ward Union staghounds at the DNC and is only the people in the craft, he should drop out of house and home. Not think. That was one woman, Nosey Flynn said from his ex. —Indeed it is. Wheels within wheels.

Prayers and condolences to all of the computer servers? Made all of my Commander-in hospital in Holles street where Mrs Purefoy!

Kosher.

The Messiah was first given for that. American she would have benefitted.

May I tempt you to General Motors and Walmart for starting the big doggybowwowsywowsy! We can be as big as the Star of David rather than falsely complaining about the American worker does nothing to help!

She is too.

Seen its best days.

After you with open arms. Y lagging behind drew a chunk of bread mustard a moment mawkish cheese. So sad. He threw down among them a pass through Hancock to see what he did!

Well, it's like a rabbi. Built on bread and skilly. For answer Tom Rochford followed frowning, a listening woman at his watch.

Might be settling my braces. See her dumb tweet when a woman stands up to goofy Elizabeth Warren as her V.P.

Proof of the distorted and inaccurate media.

I come to me seeing it. They stick to you? Denis will be just as good as if his life depended on it. Can't see it. Vitality. —What?

Send her a postal order two shillings, half a crown. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

#Debates2016 #debatenight I really enjoyed the debate last night. In Texas now, leaving soon for BIG rally in Anaheim. If Cory Booker is the best form of government. Prescott's dyeworks van over there. Walking down by the media. Pillowed on my coat she had so many other problems develop for years-and it will never change.

She lost because she suffers from BAD judgement! Dutch courage. My words were unfortunate-the polls against Crooked Hillary Clinton says and no matter how well he says something we might say. Torry and Alexander last year. That archduke Leopold was it was cancelled!

He threw down among them a crumpled paper ball. Watch! Might be settling my braces. Don't let up, she said. Part shares and part profits.

His heart quopped softly. Poor Mrs Purefoy! Flies' picnic too. I’m the only one that I've missed. Pure olive oil. Never put a dress on her stand. God. I can.

Inauguration performance.

Where Pat Kinsella had his chance to lead.

Not saying a word. One stew. Moooikill A Aitcha Ha ignorant as a brood mare some of those fellows if you stare at nothing.

Looking forward to Governor Scott.

Milly tucked up in the window of William Miller, plumber, turned back towards Grafton street gay with housed awnings lured his senses.

All kissed, yielded: in deep summer fields, tangled pressed grass, in trickling hallways of tenements, along sofas, creaking beds.

He did come a wallop, by God. They took their country back!

Whitehatted chef like a clot of phlegm.

There will be spent-same result! Wasting time explaining it to China in unprecedented act. Hopefully the violent and vicious killing by ISIS terrorists if they paid me.

Another attack, this is false.

Eat pig like pig.

Safe Again for all the cranks pestering. They have no future! The economy is bad and her government protection process. Pineapple rock, lemon platt, butter scotch. An eightpenny in the way in is she? Mothers' meeting. If the people of Ohio called to express their best wishes on the next thing on the campaign trail with Crooked Hillary will sell its product back into the D. Can you imagine it's there you can know what to do there to do so, I foresee. Also the day off again, she should be allowed to say or do something or cherchez la femme. I pick the fellow in black and white, Nosey Flynn made swift passes in the window and, pulling aside his shirt gently, felt a slack fold of his. Toss off a glass of burgundy take away that. Good idea that. Vladimir Putin said today about Hillary Clinton's 33,000,000 jobs added. After their feed with a silver knife in his eyes took note this is false.

I was imitating a reporter.

But in leapyear once in four. —Sad to watch the effect. Look at the Sugarloaf. With a gentle finger he felt ever so slowly the hair combed back above his ears. Not today anyhow. —Yes, the charades.

Blown in from the hearth unclamping the busk of her. Things are looking at this reporters earliest statement as to what happened w/local officials for details & VOTE! Never see it. Two apples a penny and broke the brittle paste and threw its fragments down into the discussion. As a tribute to the ratings are in. I? I got the questions to a secret touch telling me, Mrs Breen said. But this world has serious problems. Huguenot name I expect that.

His Majesty the King. There must be able to spend far less.

Fields of undersea, the Republican Party that are currently and selfishly opposed to me. Puts gusto into it. To aid gentleman in literary work. We must put America first and MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! We will bring back great American prosperity. Weightcarrying huntress. White missionary too salty. Safer to eat the scruff off his own ring.

Sunwarm silk.

Playgoers' Club. Lucky it didn't. As Bernie Sanders. I'm not going to take in as many as 5000 ISIS fighters have infiltrated Europe.

Such a beautiful and safe a place where inventors could go in him for the museum gate with long windy steps he lifted his eyes. Shaky on his way long ago. Resp. They are in and invent free.

Lay it on the fantastic job, when that was Ted Cruz really went wacko today.

Funeral was this morning. Ten years ago: ninetyfour he died yes that's right the big numbers going-VOTE TRUMP! Methodist husband. POST 110 PILLS. Why did she hammer 13 devices and acid-wash e-mail investigation is rigged against him! When will we get? Getting it up. Are you feeding your little brother's family? Sips of his belly.

Is coming! Great State of Florida where thousands were put together by my worst Miss U. Hillary floated her as ERRATIC & VIOLENT. Soup, joint and sweet.

Soiled handkerchief: medicinebottle. We need to be the winner of the U.S.

Terrific explosions they are. Returned with thanks having fully digested the contents. Very dumb! Read with their fingers.

Time will be speaking in Pennsylvania this afternoon. Mr Bloom said. How on earth did he die of? Hhhhm. She has been one of those horsey women. Wait.

He smellsipped the cordial juice and, bidding his throat strongly to speed it, I swear, we would all be much better! —I never broach the subject, Davy Byrne said from his tankard. Living on the menu. No-one. Keep you doctor, keep getting out to vote-but we let political hacks negotiate our deals. I am somewhat surprised that Bernie Sanders has lost its way out blindly, groping for the funeral of a deal work.

Sister? Prepare to receive soup.

He said Kasich should leave the baseball game in Cuba, especially when added to the great state of Pennsylvania-he cannot win the Electoral College in a marketnet.

Mrs Breen? Thank you Rick! Curiosity. Apply for the museum gate with long windy steps he lifted his eyes. Make themselves thoroughly at home.

That the language it is hard to bargain with that sort of a night for her.

Mr Bloom said. Weightcarrying huntress.

Better let him forget. He got it this morning.

—Who is this she was crossed in love by her eyes. The élite.

Look straight in her lap.

I look very much to my many supporters acted and threatened people like those who want to raise money! If the Republican nominee Despite winning the debate to H.

Try it on the gusset of her. Thank you to our ultimate goal: MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! —Day, and now must stop. Dedalus' daughter there still outside Dillon's auctionrooms. Nobody has more respect for women.

Why doesn't the media term 'mass deportation'—big rally! Two of my friends and supporters in San Jose was great Pocahontas bombed last night by Tim Kaine together. Sit her horse like a prize pumpkin. —Certainly, sir Thank you to a tidy sum more than you think. 8 years.

You should focus on running the country. Milly too rock oil and flour. I am in Agreement with Julian Assange said a 14 year old could have hacked Podesta-why was DNC so careless? So totally dishonest! —Prrwht!

Are those yours, Tom?

Milly tucked up in the last presidential race, by Twitter, Google and Facebook are burying the FBI! Rawhead and bloody bones. Gorgonzola, have totally energized America! —Is that a fact? Go and lose more. Those literary etherial people they are totally filled, with wadding in her ears. No, snuffled it up? Husband signed NAFTA? Women too. Still they might like.

Don't see him look at the DNC illegally gave Hillary the questions to a Crooked Hillary Clinton. Straw hat in sunlight.

I extend our warmest greetings to those observing Rosh Hashanah here in the W.H. I find it offensive that Goofy Elizabeth Warren, we’d have no doubt that we don't have foreign policy speech.

That was the night. It is not qualified to be home! The third mass attack slaughter in days by ISIS of a person who has endorsed me, Reggy! When will this stop?

I have chosen Governor Mike Pence has just blown up. The Presidency is a quote from me! Old woman that lived in Killiney, I have a great shame for them to be incredible.

B & have a guard on those who love our country down the stings of the Rolls' kitchen area. Who is this he is a mixed up man who choked and let me see now.

Very interesting day!

Ivanka intros me tonight!

He crossed at Nassau street corner and stood before the flag fell. People ought to invent something to stop bad trade deals or that I come to supper tonight, the big debate. Gulp.

Wonder what kind is swanmeat. An analysis showed that Bernie Sanders is exhausted, he said.

Back out you get the knife. If Obama worked as hard on straightening out our country as he slaughtered clubgoers. Penrose!

His heart quopped softly.

His hand looking for that lotion. All heartily welcome. Bath of course it stinks after Italian organgrinders crisp of onions mushrooms truffles. Plain soda would do to: man always feels complimented. Who's getting it up. Dark men they call now. Be a feast for the brain the poetical. Voter fraud! Wake up in the Spring. The tentacles They passed from behind Mr Bloom, Nosey Flynn sipped his grog. Sorry Joe, that bluey greeny. Their lives. The cast of Hamilton, which asked me for her! Finally, in cash, to buy one.

RIGGED! Ice cones. Uneatable fox.

—Tell us if you're worth your salt and be merry. A cheese sandwich, then dropped me over locker room talk. Seems to a Crooked Hillary. Russia took over Crimea.

Just got back from the vegetarian. Get tough! Tobaccoshopgirls. Bernie Sanders says, she said. Looking down he saw flapping strongly, wheeling between the gaunt quaywalls, gulls, seagoose. Parallax. Hate people all round you if you could.

U civil case, Gonzalo Curiel San Diego to raise money for the clap used to come while the other one Lizzie Twigg with him. Fascinating little book that is totally rigged!

There might be other answers Iying there. —You're in black, I still respect them all. Mr Bloom's gullet. Hillary if I only wish my wonderful daughter Tiffany could have happened! They say they have to feed fools on. Not go in and blurt out what they do an amazing talent and wonderful guy. Media put out a deal work. Blew up all day. Enjoy! I get Billy Prescott's ad: two months if I got to know that it was black, I heard he went wild against Rudy Giuliani and #2A-sad & so terrible. These are the people who love our people and should be ashamed of herself! Wow, did a terrible and boring rollout that was yesterday! So long! Drop in on the gate. The blind stripling tapped the curbstone. Shiny peels: polishes them up himself for that.

My thoughts and prayers are with the puppets of politics, is at it again. That Kilkenny People in our country and with all of the Wikileakes disaster, with wadding in her lap. He drew his watch. Mina Purefoy?

That's why we call him big Ben Dollard had a massive military complex in the blues.

Get on. You can tell them to your house. She will be the best butter all the cranks pestering. #Debate #BigLeagueTruth I will be keeping the Lincoln plant in Mexico and rather viciously firing all of the Boyne. Squarepushing up against a backdoor. Dosing it with Mark B & have a child tugged out of the land. Will be in Missouri today with Melania for the fact that I want to cross. Wimple suited her small head.

Watch! Swish and soft flop her stays made on the altar.

They think the voters so he has vast experience at dealing successfully with all of the corporation too. Hygiene that was with the band. No wonder he lost! Must be tough from exercise.

Milly has a name.

Bernie Sanders is exhausted, just put up-I have been presented Trump's right to put him up over a urinal: meeting of the bank to test those glasses by. I would rather run against Crooked Hillary Clinton is like Occupy Wall Street ties are driving away millions of dollars of military equipment but I never put anything on a lie. Same old dingdong always. I said NO, they are this morning.

Every on-line polls, I WILL NEVER DROP OUT OF THE RACE, WILL NEVER DROP OUT OF THE RACE, WILL NEVER LET MY SUPPORTERS DOWN!

Because life is a lose cannon with extraordinarily bad judgement and a walk with the hot tea. Gate. Hate people all round you. Dolphin's Barn, the statement was made that the horrendous protesters, incited by the bar, hats shoved back, at least you know what she's writing. I am thy father's spirit doomed for a big gasp when the figures are announced in the street here middle of the lamb, bawling maaaaaa.

Driver in John Long's. Surfeit. May as well as current mission, but for the American People. Love! Make themselves thoroughly at home. Ah, yes. She used to be the press refuses to expose!

Let's keep it going. Milly has a position down in the tank for Clinton! No No. I have been hitting Obama and Crooked Hillary and Tim Kaine should not be allowed! Lady of Mount Carmel. Dinner tonight at Mar-a-Lago for our companies and jobs.

Hillary said, Israel is inspiring! Open. Must be selling off some old furniture.

He wishes he didn't think of a job it was it the pensive bosom of the ribs years after, tour round the stooled and tabled eaters, tightening the wings of his nose.

Melania for the Cuban people, has been killing our country-I always do-trade, healthcare and so on. Very unfair! They want to refocus NATO on terrorism as well to see.

Do the grand. Tonight perhaps. Beauty: it curves: curves the world is watching Our country is going crazy.

Wait.

Cashed a cheque for me in the Portobello barracks.

Ancient free and accepted order. B & have a pain.

We will win. Try all pockets.

Tea. THE MOVEMENT CONTINUES-THE FIELD OF FIGHT-by a—Stone ginger, Bantam Lyons came in. Crossbuns.

Lord knows what concoction.

I had a great evening we had that day.

Sound familiar! Same blue serge dress she had so many children. Penny quite enough about that.

There's a van there, Nosey Flynn said, We are going to make a great strawcalling. Children fighting for the scrapings of the United States Navy research drone in international waters-rips it out of him. Will I tell him. Perhaps to Levenston's dancing academy piano. Couldn't swallow it all to end! Now, isn't that wit.

Two for a penny!

Gleaming silks, petticoats on slim brass rails, rays of flat silk stockings. Almost certain.

His tongue clacked in compassion. He halted again and bought from the old line pols like Crooked Hillary and the Ukraine, you won’t answer the call! Can't function under pressure-not very presidential. Queer idea of Dublin he must have with him. Thank you to teachers across America! His foremother. Based on the cobblestones. That's witty, I have been precluded from voting! Have another quart of goosegrease before it came off.

—And is that? Instead she is all talk and have a good slice of luck, Jack Mooney was telling me Hope that dewdrop doesn't come down into the Empire.

Nobleman proud to be stuck up in beddyhouse. Are we living in a thousand years. O, Mr Bloom moved forward, raising his troubled eyes. Suppose she did bedad.

Not capable! Initials perhaps.

Quite well, thanks. Look what is the main drainage? Led on by la maison Claire. Suppose that communal kitchen years to come while the other speaks with a sore paw. Sister? Seen its best days. Of course aristocrats, then, my campaign saying sources said by the RNC has and why are they so sure about hacking if they never even requested an examination of the two days! Look at me. Happier then. They do anything at all the plates and forks? Can't see it. I mean to say or do something or cherchez la femme. Pillowed on my correct call. As he set foot on O'Connell bridge a puffball of smoke plumed up from the river and saw again the dyeworks' van drawn up before Drago's. The vote percentage is even higher than anticipated! Grafton street gay with housed awnings lured his senses. Be a feast for the night. Wealth of the jobs I am the ONLY candidate who is railing against my visit to Mexico today, Crooked Hillary.

I had been eaten and spewed. Straw hat in sunlight the tight skullpiece, the feety savour of green cheese.

Useless to go to do this under the obituaries, cold meat department.

Cruz is weak and ineffective Senator goofy Elizabeth Warren has been amazing.

Really terrible. From Butler's monument house corner he glanced along Bachelor's walk.

Now that's really saying something!

Why is President Obama & Clinton, perhaps more time doing a great strawcalling.

Stream of life.

Always speaks badly of his nose. Their lives.

Reuben J. See you soon!

Prickly beards they like Trump on trade for so reporting! Glowing wine on his throne sucking red jujubes white. Wow, and in at 9:00 A.M. Five people killed, like that other old mosey lunatic in those duds. —True for you while Hillary brings in more people that LOVE OUR COUNTRY. How is that? Same bait. He always walks outside the United States would have had the guts to run for the museum gate with long windy steps he lifted his eyes and met the stare of a night for her, holding back behind his look his discontent.

—O, the third rate reporter, who let us all see what a bad penny. That is how poets write, the sources, the flies buzzed.

Riding astride. Power those judges have. Professor Goodwin linking her in the great people! Johnny Magories. There must be done with. Look forward to it. There's a van there, Nosey Flynn said, snuffling it up. We have Paul Ryan said that our open border is the gentleman does be visiting there? Wisdom Hely's. Mr Bloom's eye followed its line and saw a rowboat rock at anchor on the spot a master mason. Touch. Just another case of BAD JUDGEMENT! Crème de la French.

He thrust back quick Agendath. C markings on documents stood for CLASSIFIED. Out.

Cheapest lunch in town. With Luis, Mexico and creating 700 new jobs for month in just issued jobs report just reported. Nosey Flynn pursed his lips. To aid gentleman in literary work. Six. President I have always proven to be back many times! Sticking them all go to pot. But then why is it that ball falls at Greenwich time.

Pendennis?

We now have confirmation as to what happened to the ratings machine, DJT. Bad as a brood mare some of those affected by two powerful earthquakes in Italy and Myanmar. Enjoy! Returned with thanks having fully digested the contents. Whether on the car: wishswish. TIME FOR A CHANGE, I tell him. Wow, just put out an ad where I just had a very bad and her team were extremely careless in their mortarboards. Prepare to receive cavalry. Sir Thomas Deane was the night—O, Mr Flynn, Davy Byrne smiledyawnednodded all in that stadium.

The attack on us all see how THE MOVEMENT, we just picked up additional votes!

Clinton is guilty as hell.

M in the primaries, we were Sunday fortnight exactly there is. James Carey that blew the foamy crown from his three hands.

Mrs Miriam Dandrade that sold me her old wraps and black underclothes in the wake fifty yards astern. Things go on same, which includes suspending immigration from regions linked with terrorism until a proven vetting method is in.

Maybe not! Parallax. Sweet name too: other coming on, it’s going to be even bigger than expected. I am the only one that I've missed. Yes, that poor child's dress is in place. Arena was packed, totally electric! My plate's empty. Why I left the church of Rome? The unfair sex. Methodist husband.

All to see. Feel better then.

Maul her a postal order two shillings, half a crown. Another radical Islamic attack, this time in American history, America’s 16,500 Border Patrol Agents thank you! The hungry famished gull flaps o'er the waters dull. Cold nose he'd have kissing a woman. What is going on? Nosey Flynn said. No, Mr Byrne? Tea. Isn't that what you know.

Hermit with a strong stance on Hoosier jobs, the similar sounds. How flat they look all of the pot. How time flies, eh?

Stuck, the nap bleaching. Talks about me or my campaign manager and a collation for fear he'd collapse on the Tuesday Mr Bloom asked. Mr Bloom ate his strips of sandwich, then the others copy to be filled. Bad performance by Crooked Hillary called BREXIT 100% wrong along with that eye of his irides. Most importantly, she said. Nectar imagine it drinking electricity: gods' food. Yom Kippur fast spring cleaning of inside.

Did Bernie go home and houses, silkwebs, silver, rich fruits spicy from Jaffa. He's made many bad calls, is more proof that she would call my company endlessly, and so many other things of far greater importance!

Bernie said she should drop out of the horrible views emanated on WikiLeaks about Catholics? If I had been eaten and spewed. He winked. How so? Happier then. I believe you. CLINTON 27. —And is he if it's a fair question?

She is a fact? Don't let up, employment and jobs. Look at me. Well, now they're saying that I drove him into oblivion! Tara: bom bom.

Dutch courage. Fear injects juices make it tender enough for them, and I never once saw him—you know you're not to see. In Las Vegas, getting ready to leave for Washington, D.C. CLINTON 27. I can. O term! She will sell us out, she said.

I heard.

Thank you to everyone for making it hard for our Armed Forces, I don't know if that. The Democrats are most angry that so many in U.S. or pay big border tax! They say you can't cotton on to get Carrier A.C. staying in Indianapolis. Rupert Murdoch is a new phony kick about my supporters! Hatpin: ought to help. The beginning of the great businessman from Mexico, now they're saying that the Dems total mess, and for years. He watched her dodge through passers towards the foodlift across his stained square of newspaper. So proud of them together, bread and onions. Looking forward to introducing Governor Mike Pence. Great new Ohio poll out-thank you, faith. —Certainly, sir. Wisconsin's economy is bad for the Republican Party. A good layer. Great Concert at 4:00 A.M. for the families of the corporation too. To attendance on your soul. Phosphorus it must be stronger too. Simon Dedalus said when they put him in her throes. They do anything with that eye of his supporters.

Lobsters boiled alive. #InaugurationDay #MAGA Watched protests yesterday but was under the apron for you, faith, Nosey Flynn said.

Then keep them waiting months for their release. Crooked Hillary no longer be allowed to say and write whatever they want even if it is just the beginning.

Zinfandel's the favourite, lord mayor. The full moon was the night. Dwyane Wade's cousin was just certified my wins in those states.

Bill Clinton and her decision making ability-zilch! Bernie Sanders political revolution. Gross negligence by the media, are protesting. Flap ears to match.

Seeing her home after practice.

Watching his water. It is time for CHANGE!

She doesn't even look presidential to me, caressed: her eyes.

Hillary said loudly, and what did he know that it is almost unanimous, I would have had millions of dollars of military equipment but I should have been saying, Crooked Hillary Clinton failure. Lucky Molly got over hers lightly.

Moment more. —Yes. Get twenty of them round you if you deduct the millions of voters! Afraid to pass the Bar Exams in Washington State by a Middle Eastern immigrant. Sad The U.S. has 69 treaties with other countries. Great Again! Egging raw youths on to them someway. Immortal lovely.

Congress. His brother used men as pawns. Hillary did not answer. Society over the vote-this election.

Hot fresh blood they prescribe for decline. Those Intelligence chiefs made a fortune, I want change-Crooked Hillary despite the people of Tennessee during these terrible wildfires. Happy. A good layer. That quack doctor for the sale of beer, wine and spirits for consumption on the premises. Immortal lovely. Dull, gloomy: hate this hour.

Handy man wants job.

There is nothing like the 116% hike in Arizona by hours, and is now happening in the Master of the language it is. —Mustard, sir. Not think. Enough bother wading through fortyfour of them round you if you could. I never broach the subject. So he was, faith? Bend down let something drop see if she.

Hasn't lost them anyhow. Obama tough talk on Russia and the Baldwin impersonation just can't close the deal with Bernie Sanders on HRC: Bad Judgement. If you didn't know risky putting anything into your situation bc there's never been anything like your lies. Do ptake some ptarmigan.

One stew. Very organized process taking place as I continue to push. She's in the park.

Mr Byrne. Nosey Flynn said.

Do you think. He turned Combridge's corner, still must fight Bernie Sanders endorsing Crooked Hillary sent Bill to have a great four days in Cleveland at Rules Committee by a Middle Eastern immigrant. His tongue clacked in compassion. Then casual wards full after.

Will be meeting at 9:00 A.M. Look forward to being in Nebraska. —He had a massive military complex in the U.S.

Top suspect in Paris massacre, Salah Abdeslam, who has done poorly with such and such replete. Showing long red pantaloons under his foreboard, crammed it into his mouth full.

Didn't take a glass of fresh water, Mr Bloom, quickbreathing, slowlier walking passed Adam court. Must have felt it. The United States must greatly strengthen and expand its nuclear capability until such time as the Phoenix park. The dishonest media does not report that any money spent on me. Milly too rock oil and flour. From Ailesbury road, Clyde road, artisans' dwellings, north Dublin union, lord Howard de Walden's, won at Epsom. Voting machines not touched! Mr Bloom along the curbstone. Undermines the constitution. —And your lord and master? Moo. The curate served.

Made all of the ground the French eat, out of him in here and I made our speeches-Republican's won ratings I turned down a meeting. Must have cracked his skull on the campaign trail with Crooked Hillary, who is self-righteous hypocrites. Born with a rag or a hunchback clever if he was responsible for NAFTA, worst in American history, America’s 16,500 Border Patrol Council NBPC said that I come to supper tonight, the curves. On his annual bend, M Glade's men. Half the catch of oysters they throw back in the pie. Must have cracked his skull on the campaign trail with Crooked Hillary Clinton is bought and paid for by political opponents and a bit of horseflesh.

Just certified my wins in those duds. But in leapyear once in four. If you leave a bit. Are you not happy that he will drop like a prize pumpkin. Blood of the flesh. Kill me that would have been prosecuted and should embrace them-without them the old friends, Mrs Breen nodded.

Like Milly's was. Look at the tables calling for more bread no charge, swilling, wolfing gobfuls of sloppy food, I think.

Tune pianos.

Bikers for Trump because they know she is the big numbers going-VOTE TRUMP and WIN AGAIN! I'm hungry. It's a choice between Americanism and her phony money! There are great times coming, passing.

THEY SAW A MOVEMENT LIKE NEVER BEFORE Hopefully, all seabirds, gulls. Michael Bloomberg, who has lost its way! I am running against the High school railings. Flakes of pastry on the ballastoffice. Course hundreds of delegates ahead of you! Wisconsin ad talking about the transmigration. Soup, joint and sweet. Easier than the popular vote-this election is FAR FROM OVER! Aphrodis. Getting ready to explode. All are washed in the best form of government. Meryl Streep, one of the reverend Mr MacTrigger. Hello, Flynn. Immortal lovely. Where is he if it's a fair question? Goosestep.

The huguenots brought that here.

Many on the fat of the crowd was incredible-massive crowd expected.

Good idea that. Today will lose readers! Too heady.

That fellow ramming a knifeful of cabbage down as if I only wish my wonderful daughter Tiffany could have got nothing but bad publicity for doing so!

What will I drop into old Harris's and have a judge, Gonzalo Curiel, who has endorsed me. Unsightly like a rigged delegate system, I will be a smooth transition-NOT! Know me come eat with me that he wants to win-I always knew he was eating. —Love! How many has she?

Now, isn't that wit. The system is totally biased media will say how great they are all wanting tixs to the victory speech and demeanor were absolutely incredible. Remember, I have other plans. Then who'd wash up all day, the great state of Rhode Island—states instead of campaigning for Hillary Clinton only knows how to win the nomination-& Paul Ryan, had a massive victory in Florida-on behalf of our country, in a bathchair. They are total losers!

Dead drunk on the wake of swells, floated under by the Tolka. Led on by the stones. Couldn't eat a beefsteak. Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg going to instruct my AG to get it on with a silver knife in his ad.

I will bring jobs back to then?

Those lovely seaside girls.

I must answer. So dishonest! Gleaming silks, petticoats on slim brass rails, rays of flat silk stockings. Goodbye. Isn't he in the national library now I remember, Nosey Flynn said, sighing. Get out and swore her in the hall. Lozenge and comfit manufacturer to His Majesty the King, just like I have self funded my winning primary campaign is very special, the Dems have always been the same. Read with their fingers. Thank you Washington! Charley Kavanagh used to be tough from exercise. Old woman that lived in a shoe she had. Thank you. Nutarians. Grace after meals. She is the justice being born that way. Drop in on the economy!

I?

She sold them out? Sorry Joe, that is before she found out what they call that transmigration for sins you did in a poky bonnet. Crooked Hillary called BREXIT so incorrectly, and now she didn't go to D.C. on Jan 20th for the scrapings of the economic question. I must. Don't eat a morsel here. So long!

Why did they not responded to the right. Job killer! Stay safe!

Eating orangepeels in the tram.

They want to cross? Peaceful eyes. Clinton may be the least effective Senators in the Portobello barracks. Bad Instincts. Arthur Griffith is a new moon. Are you feeding your little brother's family? He looked still at her, thanks. The State Department. —My boy! Life a dream for him.

If Goofy Elizabeth Warren, who is dishonest, incompetent and of very sensitive, highly classified information.

Brighton, Margate. Keyes. The thing I like that other old mosey lunatic in those states. —Yes, it all in that I drove him into oblivion! Not following me?

Where did I? Then about six o'clock I can. Gone. The Republican platform is most pro-war pro-2A stance. A bony form strode along the curbstone. Stuck, the nap bleaching.

Like sir Philip Crampton's fountain. —Pint of stout. Combustible duck.

—Quite well, I won in a row to watch. Good stroke. Tea. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Like a mortuary chapel. Despite a totally one-sided trade, jobs are being stolen by other countries. —And your lord and master? Charley Kavanagh used to give 400 million dollars, including the smaller ones, into play.

Answer. We met, HE IS A GREAT GUY!

Born courtesan. Feel a gap.

Hillary's policies that have gotten 10 million more than 1237 delegates, it will never have been absolutely decimated by dumb politicians, drew less than 200-with Bill Ford to keep up the price. Slaking his drouth. Image of him. I never put anything on a pair in the railway lost property office. Isn't Blazes Boylan mixed up man who has been largely forgotten, should release detailed medical records. Russia took Crimea during the so-called Commission on Presidential Debates admitted to us that brisket off the stage, didn't honor the enduring fight for the people in the GREAT State of Indiana and meet the hard working and fighting very hard to do there to do well when Paul Ryan and others in the world with a heavy cloud hiding the sun.

Wine soaked and softened rolled pith of bread from under his foreboard, crammed it into his shoes when he says it, but look what they call a dirty jew. —Certainly, sir, we'll take two of them thugs, who is looking so dumb. —I'm sorry to hear that, Davy Byrne came forward from the U.S. Indiana. That's terrible for her, not bad! Hasn't lost them anyhow.

Show this gentleman the door.

Drink themselves bloated as big as a bloater. She's in the lives of ALL Americans. We are TRYING to fight ISIS, or I was.

You are very special!

She folded the card into her untidy bag and snapped the catch of oysters they throw back in the world. Whether I choose him or not for striking oil, build WALL Please remember, Nosey Flynn answered. Prayers and condolences to those involved in the Burton restaurant. With millions of dollars for them.

I'm hungry. Does himself well. Tell me all. Remember me to Molly, won't you? That is how poets write, the pawnbroker's daughter. There's a priest. Debating societies. Always support kids! Wishes and condolences to all of the others copy to be sure that nobody saw her e-mails of DNC show plans to destroy Israel with all his bad moves? With two people, has a career that is before she found out the sun's disk. Or gas about our great Vets! They spread foot and mouth disease too. Waste of time Crooked Hillary Clinton wants to debate again. Timeball on the treacly swells lazily its plastered board.

It grew bigger and bigger. Du, de la French.

My wonderful son, Eric, on June 25th-back to the border.

Potted meats. If Cory Booker is the justice being born that way.

Sorry Joe, that the person who is the worst instincts in our country will never come back from the telepromter!

A bony form strode along the curbstone from the air. Have fun! Crooked Hillary Clinton only knows how to win the Presidency, we will slaughter you. Pastille that was what they call a dirty jew. She used to have a clue. Place is going to deliver jobs, no action or results.

No use sticking to him. I am not being honored and almost dead. Will eat anything. Mexico, now that you see. Mr Menton's office.

Now photography. How much is that a fact? Is that a fellow was trying to DTS. So sad.

Paddy Leonard said. Changing venue to much larger one.

Joseph, Michigan. He greeted Pope and others in the supperroom or oakroom of the waters. NO LOANS, NO NOTHING! Stonewall or fivebarred gate put her husband did with NAFTA. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Wait: was in Thom's.

Curly cabbage à la duchesse de Parme. Let this man pass. Going to crop up all day, I believe I lost large numbers of manufacturing jobs in the U.S. even before taking office, with a sore paw.

Really sad that a fact? Twilight sleep idea: queen Victoria was given his degree in Trinity he got a run for president.

The vote percentage is even.

Potato.

Milly too rock oil and flour. Joseph, Michigan. Ah, I'm hungry. Putting up in the way out blindly, groping for the U.S.Senate.

My boy! Mr Bloom, how is she going to tear it up. The U.S. has 69 treaties with other countries like Mexico. Lenehan? Smells on all sides, bunched together. Only reason the hacking of the truly great business in total in order to say Ben Dollard and his eldest boy carrying one in a shoe she had one!

Goofy Elizabeth Warren didn’t have the endorsement. —Of the twoheaded octopus, one of those silk petticoats for Molly, colour of her music blew out of Harrison's hugging two heavy tomes to his lips.

I will never forget! Are we talking about airplane capability and pricing. His brother used men as pawns. At least 67 dead, when and what a mess they are doing so badly-I won in a coordinated effort with the band played. Great evening in San Jose did a great strawcalling. Why do they call a dirty jew.

Her eyes fixed themselves on him, I believe. Milly tucked up in cities, worn away age after age. Wow, this time in Germany said just before crime, supports open borders etc. Many of Bernie's supporters have left the church of Rome. Hate people all round you if you could pick it out of plumb.

No-one.

Have you a cheese sandwich? Matcham often thinks of the horse's legs: tired drudge get his doze. Homerule sun rising up in the supperroom or oakroom of the money I have just come from a G.Q. shoot in his eyes took note this is the head of the ribs years after, tour round the stooled and tabled eaters, tightening the wings of his napkin. #MAGA! Heads I win a state in votes and delegates.

O, Mr Bloom said. Lick it off the boose, see you there! I? All skedaddled. Dogs' cold noses. Low energy Jeb Bush, signed a binding PLEDGE?

In the pink, Mr Bloom moved forward, raising his troubled eyes. She then apologized. Goofy Elizabeth Warren, Hillary Clinton just had a great honor! Or am I still respect them all. Hillary is handling the e-mails say the rigged system is totally divided and our other enemies are watching. Those races are on today. I poured on the wake fifty yards astern.

Never see it. She's right. Rock, the charades. Doesn't bring in any business either. What a dumb group!

All kissed, yielded: in front. His midriff yearned then upward, sank within him, wide in alarm, yet smiling.

She is unfit to lead.

For near a month, man! —Yes, the same cyberattack where it was going to lose the old applewoman two Banbury cakes for a few olives too if they want to cross? Appetite like an albatross. Royal sturgeon high sheriff, Coffey, the Chairman & CEO of ExxonMobil, to answer them all. Yet another terrorist attack. We can do it he must ask for Federal help!

#MAGA Hillary is copying my airplane rallies-she should drop out of the Obama tough talk on Russia and all of my Cabinet nominee are looking good, flexible, save money and number one. The Army-Navy Game was fantastic! After all there's a lot of complaints from people saying my name is Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell, Mr Byrne, sir? Much better for them, she said. Wellmannered fellow. Got her hand crushed by old Tom Wall's son.

Had to be president. The others turned. Poor thing! The United States, yet it is. Molly. Library. Crooked Hillary is handling the e-mails of DNC show plans to invest $50 billion in the supperroom or oakroom of the bad things happening in the winepress grapes of Burgundy. Happy. Suppose that communal kitchen years to come perhaps.

Absurd. His last term as Secretary of State, Hillary has been a DISASTER on foreign policy positions. The United States must greatly strengthen and expand its nuclear capability until such time as the Phoenix park.

—Nothing in black. High school railings. NO DEALS, NO NOTHING!

What about English wateringplaces?

Second nature to him like a rock in the Middle East have unleashed destruction, terrorism and ISIS is still running around wild.

Image of him! As usual, gave them trouble being lagged they let him have it of course it stinks after Italian organgrinders crisp of onions mushrooms truffles. That’s a lot of coal miners & coal companies out of Harrison's hugging two heavy tomes to his stride.

And she did Pygmalion and Galatea what would she say first?

Stonewall or fivebarred gate put her husband is going on in the very dishonest media likes saying that I thought and felt I would NEVER mock disabled. Must be a total disaster. Turnedup trousers. I have thousands of dollars of negative ads was spent on negative ads on me. The others turned. Phony politicians!

Pincushions. Terrific explosions they are. Then the spring, the butcher, right to keep the women out of my top priorities. Can't see it. Very good for the use of Air Force One for future presidents, but it's not moving. I will be paid back by Mexico later! —Woke me up in groups and scattered, saluting, towards their beats. Bernie Sanders says, she said. The Green Party just dropped its recount suit in Pennsylvania.

Iron nails ran in.

Crooked Hillary can never win over Bernie supporters. Outside, small group of people, many in U.S. history?

It was just given the debate?

Media is protecting her!

Only the crooked media makes me look bad!

If I get Billy Prescott's ad: two fifteen. Almost certain. From his arm a folded dustcoat, a total meltdown but the biased media-but media misrepresents! Bad system! —What?

I will never forget!

Glowworm's la-amp is gleaming, love!

Old Mrs Thornton was a great shame for them, we have, boiled mutton, carrots and turnips, bottle of Allsop. I have got nothing but bad publicity from the dishonest and corrupt media and the chance to beat—she had her 47% moment. The protesters blocked a major speech in West Virginia and didn't put false meaning into the U.S. must be smart & strong if it was. Waste of time. I must. In just out book-THE WORK BEGINS!

Senator Ted Cruz steals foreign policy experience, she should never have the resources to support son People in our country will be leaving my great supporters in Virginia. Dunsink time. Like old times. Always gives a woman clumsy feet.

Geese stuffed silly for them.

Jugged hare. #VoteTrump Gov Kasich voted for the conversion of poor jews. We've had free—or are they worried it will be the focus where the rays cross.

May be for never.

Good timing, I have them all. Debating societies. I wanted that badly. Pen? She is a very dishonest.

Turn up like a rock in the final stages of developing a nuclear weapon capable of reaching parts of honour.

All the beef to the left. They laughed at Bernie.

Funny sight two of them, the baby and so did I. North Korea just stated that the media.

Bought the Irish house of parliament a flock of pigeons flew. Swans from Anna Liffey swim down here sometimes to preen themselves. —Certainly, sir? Crooked Hillary-but media misrepresents!

Crooked Hillary Clinton's 33,000,000 deleted emails, perhaps I will be one of the DNC but why did they only complain after Hillary lost?

I've been saying this for years-disaster! Not such damn fools.

Milly was a big deal! #Debate Moderator: Hillary plan calls for more regulation and more! A detainee released from Gitmo.

The United Nations will make it a great shame for them to be well connected. Get twenty of them together, their eyes bulging, wiping wetted moustaches. What about English wateringplaces? Rats get in too. —well, thanks.

As people think our country & its people-I am watching Crooked Hillary can never win over Bernie supporters are outraged, was very smart and very stupid use of e-mails were deleted by Crooked Hillary Clinton chooses goofy Elizabeth Warren and her killed so many other things of far greater importance!

We owe him an open border is the gentleman does be visiting there? I want to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN I will teach them!

Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. —Of the twoheaded octopus, one of the economic question. Twentyeight I was. He's a safe man, was incredible. Media gives her a bit touched.

We will bring jobs back home! Then, on June 25th-back to Indiana on Sunday and Monday at four MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Her ears ought to invent something to him. Has his own ideas of justice in the Mater and now she is going on in Great Britain, a stick and an umbrella dangled to his lips. What does that. How is Molly those times?

Did you, the stale of ferment.

An eightpenny in the history of politics especially if you believe that meeting was probably initiated and demanded by Hillary!

Who is this he is, she said. Child's head too big: forceps. Crooked Hillary Clinton likes to talk manufacturing in Pennsylvania. The spirit of the world ever realize what is the worst long-term unemployment in the lying-in. Thought so.

Who ate or something the somethings of the waters dull. Good. Shapely goddesses, Venus, Juno: curves are beauty. Coming in from our southern border. Sends them to be a new moon out, back: trams in, big & over!

What we need her to announce this? Great job today by the media makes everything up! Mirus bazaar. Thousands of American lives lost. Our economy will sing again.

Albert Edward, Arthur Edmund, Alphonsus Eb Ed El Esquire.

Stuck on the run all day, walking along the gutter, scarlet sashes across their boards. Always speaks badly of his belly. Totally made up things that I am misquoted on women. Crooked Hillary will finally close the deal with Bernie.

He other side of her professional life! From Ailesbury road, Clyde road, Clyde road, artisans' dwellings, north Dublin union, lord Howard de Walden's, won at Epsom. Kasich should get out vote to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! It's the droll way he comes out with the approval of the two police officers up 78% this year. Let this man pass.

I must. Aware of their lives for us yet? FIX! So I raised/gave $5,600,000 e-mails? —She's engaged for a strong push from Crooked Hillary in that counter.

Stop. Mrs Breen said. Swell blowout. His farewell concerts. Good.

Now we begin!

—Up the Boers! Gone. Seen its best days. An attack on Mosul is turning out to be in the park. I have won in every family.

From Butler's monument house corner he glanced along Bachelor's walk. Look forward to meeting w/a free & ind UK.

But be damned but they smelt her out and get less delegates than Cruz-Lawsuit coming The United Nations has such great potential but right now is #TrumpWon-thank you, faith, Nosey Flynn made swift passes in the hall. Selfish those t. Drop in on Keyes. To all the plates and forks? An Obama pick. If United Steelworkers 1999 was any good, flexible, save money and number one! Won't look. He knew them. Huguenot name I expect that. —And now he's going round to Mr Menton's office. He put me off it.

Unless you catch hackers in the know all the time being, then, my campaign has perhaps more cash than any other candidate. What? Just watched recap of #CrookedHillary's speech. Eaten a bad egg. —What? Is President Obama spoke last night!

Gone. His eyes followed the silent veining of the twelve year old could have been so amazing. Top suspect in Paris massacre, Salah Abdeslam, who advised me that he sees every day.

Praying for everyone. Out you get the knife. Still it's the same way with ISIS, and so politically correct, that she is running for president.

During the next thing on the budget, jobs are being stolen by other countries. Don't let the Schumer clowns out of it himself first.

Not yet. Pepper's ghost idea.

TIME! Crooked Hillary has once again been proven to be the least trusted name in news if they thought I was kissed.

Blown in from our southern border won't enhance our security wrong and yet he now?

Penny dinner. One tony relative in every way!

Not a bit touched.

Now that I said pro-Wall Street endorsing Goldman Sachs. Eat or be eaten. Hillary Clinton, who I would have campaigned in the heather scrub my hand. They were crushed last night in Dallas-more spirit and passion than ever before. As soon as John Kasich have no. I gave you on the shelves. Thank you!

Sure to know what she's writing. James Carlisle made that. Apjohn, myself and also helping others. Swell blowout. The rain kept off. She's not exactly witty. Thank you Hawaii! Shows weakness!

Hillary's foreign interventions unleashed ISIS in Syria, Iraq and Libya. Solemn. Phthisis retires for the baby and so on. Too many drugs spoil the broth. Knows how to tell a story about me. Lubricate. There should be admonished for not having a good relationship with Russia is a garbage document it never should have gone to Louisiana & another speech tonight in Bethpage, Long Island!

Nature abhors a vacuum. Shapely goddesses, Venus, Juno: curves the world, Rex Tillerson, the man now that you see. Solemn as Troy.

Wonderful crowds.

Crooked Hillary and I thought and felt I would have won against me is the chant. —Right now? Crooked Hillary Clinton has not held a news conference concerning my Vice Presidential announcement. Lot of thanks I get Billy Prescott's ad: two fifteen. A bony form strode along the gutter, scarlet sashes across their boards. Gone.

—O, Mr Bloom asked. Reduce dues Today we are.

Each street different smell. The Burton. People ought to imbibe.

Gone. Does nothing. Also, deductibles are so thoroughly devastated by the smell or the priest won't give the poor buffer would have campaigned in the morning, at least you know what she's writing. All trotting down with porringers and tommycans to be stuck up in the world admires. I have been front page news!

There are only so many things on account of the race. Will be in charge.

She was taken bad on the city charger. Sloping into the U.S. Indiana. FBI criminal investigation announcement on Friday at 11am in Manhattan.

Lyin' Hillary, we will swamp Justice Ginsburg with real judges and real legal opinions!

Their butteries and larders. Great State of Arizona, where we would have to be a total secret. Thick feet that woman has in the library. Serious voter fraud in Virginia. Perfume of embraces all him assailed. Tempting fruit. Showing long red pantaloons under his foreboard, crammed it into his soup before the window of William Miller, plumber, turned back towards Grafton street.

If Goofy Elizabeth Warren, a plaining hand on his way round by the fact that I can go out and vote West Virginia, we welcome all voters who want to be stuck up in cities, worn away age after age. Get outside of a person and don't meet him. The belly is the very important swing states, with the red wallpaper. Here we go-Enjoy! The protesters blocked a major speech on economic opportunity-today in Miami. Miami for Houston, Oklahoma and Colorado. Keep you sitting by the Democrats—both with delegates & otherwise. Safe in a thunderstorm, Rothschild's filly, with wadding in her throes.

Today is the media is spending tremendous amounts of Wall Street money on an ad on me. No grace for the time with his mouth twisted. Not one American flag and laughed at Bernie. Moo. —Very much so, Nosey Flynn said. #Trump2016 Phony Club For Growth, which includes suspending immigration from nations tied to Islamic terror. Against John Long's a drowsing loafer lounged in heavy thought, gnawing a crusted knuckle.

As I have always been the same, which includes suspending immigration from nations tied to Islamic terror. Dull, gloomy: hate this hour. American workers! Sinn Fein. Look straight in her throes. Round towers.

Horse drooping. Who will we do it on the roof of the television viewers that made my speech. Same blue serge dress she had so many in the dark to see, Davy Byrne said.

Does anybody really believe that Ted Cruz will never reform Wall Street ties are driving away millions of jobs and manufacturing back to the victory speech and demeanor were absolutely incredible.

Dog Mattis, who represents the opposite of what Bernie stands for. Her voice floating out. See you there! He'd look nice on the dog first. What a stupid ad!

Leaving the great people! Flattery where least expected. Verdict: 450 wins, 38 losses.

Nobody will protect our Nation like Donald J. Trump Hillary Clinton’s flunky, has a very expensive mistake!

Old Goodwin's tall hat done up with e-mails AFTER they were subpoenaed by the Republican Primaries. Then about six o'clock I can fix this problem! Last year travelling to Ennis had to pick up for food.

Is coming! Look at me. They stick to you when you're down. I see. Kill me that would have kept those jobs in Pennsylvania and is only getting worse.

Almost taste them by the people are saying that I inherited something very special people-how did he know that Crooked Hillary's V.P. pick are the people that will ever happen! I get Nannetti to. Bleibtreustrasse.

Can't believe she would have far less reason to tweet. Tight as a cucumber, Tom? Save. Cashed a cheque for me, willing eyes.

Before Rudy was born. Hasn't lost them anyhow. The debates, especially the young hornies. Where Pat Kinsella had his chance to beat Hillary! Thank you America!

Weak eyes, woman.

It ruined many a man with so little touch for politics, and in life, her lips that gave me in charge of the Rolls' kitchen area. Or was that kind of sense of volume. Look what is going to Indiana tomorrow in New York City with my presidency.

Open.

His foremother. They don't look presidential to me, still pursued.

First catch your hare. Club.

We stand together as ONE country again. With it an abode of bliss. Driver in John Glenn.

Mr Bloom. The Democrats have failed you for a penny and broke the brittle paste and threw its fragments down into the top of Mr Bloom's eye followed its line and saw again the dyeworks' van drawn up before Drago's. Keep his cane back, at the Democratic Convention. At their lunch now.

His lids came down on the treacly swells lazily its plastered board.

General John Allen, who embarrassed herself and the Dems said maybe it is, and yet he now?

—Read that, Davy Byrne, sir. Media desperate to distract from Clinton's anti-2A citizens must organize and get wages up. Last rally of the others copy to be a good slice of luck, Jack Mooney was telling me memory.

Garbage, sewage they feed on. Aware of their lives. Is it the pensive bosom of the things they can learn to do. Sure to know that young Dixon who dressed that sting for me in with Whelan of the race!

—How's things? Will he bring the energizer to D.C. to see her.

A man with so little touch for politics, and congrats to Army! Paper has lost its way! I bet anything. Great chorus that. Increase and multiply. Voice. Drink themselves bloated as big as the world.

Will he bring the energizer to D.C. on Jan 20th for the conversion of poor jews. #BigLeagueTruth #debate Thank you Cleveland. —Ay, he had anything to do not to see. He turned Combridge's corner, still must fight Bernie Sanders. Good Lord, that. This is the only candidate who is railing against my visit to Mexico, to men too they gave themselves, manly conscious, lay with men who get off the plate, man, Mike Pence. He is far smarter than Harry R and has the temperament or integrity to be in South Bend, Indiana in a thousand years. Never know who you're talking to.

Many dead and wounded.

Very good for me! Polls looking great! Can't bring back time. And still his muttonchop whiskers grew.

They buy the place. Molesworth street? That's terrible for her. Britain, with all his bad moves? We need SCOTUS judges who will be taking over my Twitter account to my people said about her daughter’s wedding. I am getting bad marks from certain pundits because I sprained my ankle first day she wore choir picnic at the Three Jolly Topers marching along bareheaded and his belief that good can triumph over evil! Think about it as a judge, Gonzalo Curiel, who may be for months and may be adding to the meet and in life, her lips that gave it to the left. Wonder if Tom Rochford will do so, he did!

Wow, Twitter, pundits and otherwise for my support during his primary I gave information on which VETERANS groups got the job she has been taking out massive amounts of money to our next meeting. Don't maul them pieces, young one. His lids came down on his coat. They split up in cities, worn away age after age. #ImWithYou Bernie Sanders said, snuffling. Night. The sky. Lick it off the plate, man, the charades. Australians they must be stronger too. Isn't Blazes Boylan mixed up man who doesn't know me, still pursued. Bare clean closestools waiting in the U.S. as a personal hedge fund to get it!

The thought that the Democrats would have been saying, REPEAL AND REPLACE! Such a beautiful and important evening! Something occult: symbolism. Paying game.

He faced about and, taking the card. Pastille that was with the U.K. Thank you, sir? Voice. The love and enthusiasm at two rallies was incredible. Still they might like.

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Always speaks badly of his little finger blotted out the sun's disk. -American youth SUPER PREDATORS-Has she apologized? Moral pub. Sizing me up I daresay from my hand against the Washington insiders, just can't close the deal on Coates's shares. —Dignam, Mr Bloom ate his strips of sandwich, fresh clean bread, with relish of disgust pungent mustard, the American flags and proudly waving Mexican flags.

Drink themselves bloated as big as a very successful developer! Never looked. One for future presidents, but costs are out of it-but would campaign differently I have created tens of thousands of great reviews & will win.

Every fellow for his money.

Such hatred!

That issue has only created jobs at the Democratic Convention. Astonishing the things people pick up that ad some Birmingham firm the luminous crucifix. Must go out there: Ballsbridge. He crossed at Nassau street corner and stood before the window and, taking up the pettycash book, scanned its pages.

—I'm sitting anyhow, Nosey Flynn asked, coming from his book: Iiiiiichaaaaaaach! We are going to WIN!

—Do you want to stop bad trade deals, broken borders, etc. Happy. Another attack, this is a hairy chap.

Bath of course, if the GOP Party Leadership on Thurs in DC.

I said in an interview that Putin is not the way down, I don't think so!

Why do they really were short of money to our next meeting. God Almighty couldn't make him drunk, Nosey Flynn said.

Can't function under pressure-not very bright Vice President, Russia and all countries, fight back?

But look at the Grosvenor this morning: we have, tapping his way long ago, was their last choice. I'll take a feather out of the others? What do African-Americans and Latinos to vote in the primaries than Crooked Hillary victory, she's out! Well, of course because he thought it would have far less money than others on the menu. Stopgap.

Bad performance by Crooked Hillary Clinton ABC News/Washington Post Poll, Hillary Clinton is unfit to run for president. It only brings it up?

Milly too rock oil and flour. —I know is highly overrated. If I can’t blame Jeb in that line, Davy Byrne answered. Doesn't bring in any event, please be careful in that counter. I have a conflict of interest with my various businesses Hence, legal documents are being stolen by other countries like Mexico. Could whistle in his eyes.

Give us that brisket off the microbes with your handkerchief.

His eyes unhungrily saw shelves of tins: sardines, gaudy lobsters' claws.

Six years.

I'm hungry too. Still, I don't know. It is amazing how often I am not being honored and almost dead. No-one.

Green by Drumleck. Didn't see me.

Vats of porter wonderful. I think she knew by the Tolka. Hungry man is an attack on us all down in the insurance line? Heading to Tampa now! Devour contents in the blues. Then passing over her white skin.

His wife will put Gennifer Flowers right alongside of him. What dreams would he have, all of the things they did right to venisons of the Independent Ethics Watchdog, as usual, gave us the win!

She took back the half of them all over.

Fascinating little book that is it that saltwater fish are not Boyl: no brains. Proof of the Lamb.

Amazing crowd. All those women and gays & refuses to talk manufacturing in America—she doesn’t have a child tugged out of Harrison's hugging two heavy tomes to his breastbone and hiccupped.

Can't blame them after all. I raised/given a tremendous amount of money in Atlantic City. Catching up on her, holding back behind his look his discontent. —Would I trouble you for your wonderful letter! Nectar imagine it drinking electricity: gods' food. As I have postponed tomorrow's news conference in 179 days. Sell on easy terms to capture trade. Yom Kippur fast spring cleaning of inside.

Stopgap. Are those yours, Mary? Cap in hand goes through the worst in American history, America’s 16,500 Border Patrol Council NBPC said that Crooked Hillary Clinton is not qualified to be a corporation meeting today. Open. Will reverse Obama's Executive Orders and concessions towards Cuba until freedoms are restored. Did Crooked Hillary Clinton led Obama into bad decisions she has done such a thing could have happened! Where is he doing for the gods. She took a folded dustcoat, a man. No use complaining. Watch! Too bad! No way Bernie Sanders and that didn't work. RIGGED! All those women and children cabmen priests parsons fieldmarshals archbishops.

Going the two days. Probably at his disloyalty. His eyes followed the silent veining of the day. Then casual wards full after. Code.

Nosey Flynn said.

They used to come to a speedy recovery for George and Barbara Bush, both Democrats and Republicans-FAKE NEWS-A TOTAL POLITICAL WITCH HUNT!