#only uncles moonshine or something

[the-witchhunter]

Oh this makes me very happy

So fun fact, winemaking is one of my hobbies

It's surprisingly easy to pick up, and combining things into a magical potion of getting drunk makes me feel like a wizard or alchemist

So for regular booze, all you need is a source of sugar, water, and yeast. Sure, things that ad nutrients for the yeast are extremely helpful, but that's the basics

So despite everything being ectoplasm, things in the zone have structures and even the ectoplasm in Danny's DNA is structured like his actual DNA, so likely in GZ fruits in vegetables ectoplasm is similarly structured to earth sugars and starches. Since the structure informs the function, then yes they basically act like ghost sugar and starches

So the issue is the yeast. Even in actual winemaking, yeasts have different tolerances and thrive in slightly different environments, so you'd need a strain that is tolerant to ectoplasm. Now, considering you have to fly a long distance between areas of land and plants are not a given, yeast is probably not that common in the zone. Like, it's basically all around us in the world, but there's little opportunity for it to naturally propagate in the zone. It's entirely possible that it exists but likely only in certain places

You know a place that would have access to yeast and gradually increasing levels of ectoplasm that could naturally create a strain tolerant to large quantities?

Fenton works

Danny lives in one of the few places that producing Ghost Booze is possible

But here's the real question: If humans in the Ghost Zone are like ghosts on Earth, then does that mean that ghost alcohol SOBERS UP HUMANS?

But also Danny 100% could make a still using stuff from his parent's lab, but also chances are they might distill their own ethanol for the lab so good chance there's just straight up ecto infused booze lying around that probably tastes like garbage

as for the taste of ghost moonshine, it probably depends

one what it's made from, his skills, if he scorches the mash, how wide of a cut he keeps, if he ages it, if he flavors it etc

it probably is not even drinkable the first time he makes it and might actively be poison. Did he remember to discard the heads so as not to make everyone go blind? How hot did he let it get? it probably tastes burnt with all kinds of off flavors

after doing it a while?

Danny get's good. He'd need to up the scale of his operation because he'd likely be working with a still that could only handle at most a couple gallons if he's keeping and hiding it at home because his parents might not notice or applaud his chemistry, Jazz isn't letting her little brother moonshine. So he'd need to scope out an area that's hidden, has access to running water to cool it off, and probably is easy to get supplies to to make the mash

So obviously he's choosing to do this in the GZ and actively is avoiding walker like he's a revenue man in the 1920's and selling his product to probably most of his rogues

I can also only assume it's more flammable than regular alcohol

Can you make Ghost Booze?

No really, serious question.

If Danny hit, say for legal purposes, 21 and TOTALLY not like 16+ with an internet connection and a dream, and looked a Zone Plants? And Wondered?

COULD he?

We know, basically, if it's Fauna it boozer. Gods bless the natural kingdom etc. BUT! While he maybe be looking at some sweet, FREE, neon day-glow fruits and veggies? They...are ectoplasm.

That Ectoplasmic Grape cluster? Ectoplasm. The neon purple mango? Ectoplasm again! These starchy tubers? From the fridge. But THESE tubers? The orange glowing ones? Ectoplasm! It's all goo, all the time, baby!

And DOES ECTOPLASM FERMENT? Is the question!

Cause we aren't ASKING IF there is ghost booze. Of course there is. But THAT may just form fully developed, bottle and all! So? Can they? Do we need Ghost Yeast? If it DOES ferment, does it even release ALCOHOL or something else? Like radioactive by-product?

Does it make sludge?

What does the illicit Ghost Moonshine Danny DEFINITELY hasn't made in the OPs center, TASTE like? Paint thinner with a hint of battery acid? Floral after taste? Is it fruity? Could it kill a man? Does it still GLOW?

The people demand ANSWERS!

@hypewinter @nerdpoe @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @hdgnj

[sirxlla]

Deja Vu

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

Warnings: Fluff, Angst

Prompt: Part 2 to Past Misunderstandings, Tyler getting the reader to go around a horses again

Notes: gender of reader, italics are actions and thoughts.

-With that said it's all under the cut-

It had been about six months since the rodeo incident and you and Tyler had fell back into that 'Peas in a Pod' attitude. The two of you inseprible again, Layin in the back of his truck in the middle of his dad's damn near ten acres. His feet played with yours, his cowboy boots pushing against yours.

Tyler didnt know exactly what had happened to Moonshine due to the fact he left and the fact you both didnt talk to eachother. He was curious asked about the gunsmoke colored horse and you told him what happened....

Bobcats weren't overly or exceedingly uncommon for the area but they usually stayed away from livestock in this area due to a lot of the farmers killing them or scaring them off with shotguns.

Unfortunately, a few years back one of them ran straight right for your horse, of course your sweet boy got scared and tried to buck you, a foot stayed trapped in the stirrup for a few feet before you came loose.

Regrettably, for you and Moonshine the bobcat kept going right after that horse, that sweet horse you'd had for damn near almost your whole life. There was nothing you could do but leave him because as soon as they had latched onto his backside another came out of nowhere and went for the neck...All you could do was save yourself. Everyday you wished there was something more you could have done.

After you explained what happened to Tyler he rubbed your back with a sad sympathetic expression on his face.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Tiny. You loved that horse..." He smiles as a memory crosses his mind as he gazes at the clouds.

"You remember when we took him out to that field after we ditched school and we laid in the grass on that blanket all day. It was cloud watching, right?"

You smiled sadly, you know Tyler was just trying to make you feel better. Tyler always had a habit of knowing exactlt what to say to distract you.

"You cant say every cloud looks like a penis!" A laugh left your throat as you repeated what you had said to him, it wasnt just cloud watching...your had head spent that whole day on Tyler's bicep cuddled into him like he was your favorite teddy bear, not too different from how you were now.

The way your eyes light up just made Tyler feel so much better about how you felt right now over Moonshine. His heart swelled at the laugh that left you, music to his ears. He was so glad to have you back.

"Hey, I know you might not be ready for it but...My dad's just came into possesion of a horse who's really skiddish and he can't get her to come near anyone. I know your dad's horse Whiskey was pretty skiddish when y'all got him and you were the only one that got him out of that shell, you and your dad...Uncle's (You both called eachothers dads Uncle cause of the way you both grew up together) tried with this horse and she just wont budge. My dad asked me to ask you if you'd try."

"What's wrong with her?" You looked up at Tyler with a bit of worry as you spoke.

"He said something about her buckin' and stompin'. I think he also said something about her tryna bite." Tyler massaged your scalp as you rested your head on his shoulder.

"Yeah...I can. I can try." You told him with a bit of nervousness in your voice. Not only were you scared with how wild this horse seemed but letting a horse in seemed bittersweet after Moonshine. Cantaloupe (your brother's horse) was different cause you'd known that horse all your life but you know Tyler's dad and he wouldn't stop tryna break this horse, if done wrong he'd hurt her or himself bad at least.

A few days passed and Tyler picked you up and got you to his dad's farm. This barn was the same from that night but now the memory was fond because you knew it really had meant something to Tyler. He winked in acknowledgment of the spit you two had done it, which earned a blush from you.

You held Tylers hands with nerves as he guided you down to the horse, every step closer and noise that was made riled the horse up even more. You squeezed his hsnd with nerves, you knew horses like this were dangerous. Tyler's dad slammed something down in pure anger as he left the stable, his eyes fell on you. He had a black eye which you assumed was from the horse.

"TT, if you can get that damn horse to calm down then you can have the damn thing. I've had it up to here with the damn bitch!" Tyler's dad wasnt one to curse a lot but he was clearly pissed as he stomped off.

"You dont have to do this, Tiny." Tyler told you, he was clearly nervous about this after seeing his dad the way he was and hearing the commotion inside the stable.

"If I dont then what happens to her? Huh?" You asked, it was like all nerves had been stripped away and you went into savior mode. This was how you were when you were younger, determined and didnt back down from a challenge.

"Okay." He backed down cause he knew how you were, he grew up with you like this and it was good to see you step back into yourself.

You took a deep breath as you closed your eyes before opening them on exhale. You slowly slipped into that stable. 'Oh, she way beautiful' you thought, a Leopard pattern to her fur. She looked at you like you were a challenge but as soo as you saw that you bowed you head and bowed infront of her.

"Hey...Hey, Beauty....It's alright...It's okay, Mama. I aint here to hurt you." You spoke softly and stayed in place by the door. Invading her personal space without permission is clearly what Tyler's dad fucked up on.

"I know, Uncle was an asshole. He came ib here acting like he owns the place." You said with a smile, that day you didnt even get close enough to touch her. As much as you loved your uncle, he could be impaitent.

As weeks passed you and her got closer as did you and Tyler. You and Tyler had started sleepin at eachothers places, innocent little kisses and hugs turned into showers together. The two of you didnt have sex or anything, it was just intimate and close. His body pressed to yours as you leaned your head back as he pulled you closer to him with his arm around your torso.

You got closer and closer to this horse, your 'uncle' had given the horse to you. When she was ready for it you had saddled her up and rode around with her.

Tyler had been asking after the beautiful white and black spotted horse so you introduced her to him, made him go slow and respectful and before you knew it she'd cuddle her face onto Tyler's arm to get him to pet her.

Tyler was so damn proud of you, he pulled you close to him and kissed you deeply pushing you against that same interior wall of the barn like he did in highschool but this was more. It was more languid and passionate, your hands found his face as he kissed you.

"We doing this again?" You asked against his lips with a smile and whisper.

"You wanna do this again, Tex?" He asked just to make sure you he wasnt pressuring you.

Your eyes flitted back and forth as they ran through the possiblities, 'Was this a good idea? Should I?'

Masterlist

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

When Remus took out a pack of cigarettes and put one between his lips, Sirius was surprised.

Actually he felt something jumping inside his chest.

"You smoke?"

Remus was caught up by the question. Like a little kid being caught doing something wrong.

"Yeah sorry" Remus answered, the cigarette still on his mouth. But immediately took it out "I won't do it if it bothers you"

Sirius was fascinated. He remembered Rosie as an adorable kid still. It had been Sirius the bad influence. Well, Rosie had a brilliant mind for pranking. But she was innocent overall. With her soft curls on a ponytail and wearing her father's sweaters and trousers underneath her school skirt because she found it uncomfortable. Rosie talking nerdily about the book she was currently reading.

Remus still had the same aura. Although Remus being a boy wasn't the only thing that surprised Sirius.

He had changed with the years. In a good way, though.

"I don't mind" Sirius replied "I mean I smoke as well sometimes... My Uncle Alphard taught me last summer"

It was true. He smoked to impress Alphard and his friend George. Although when he got back to Hogwarts, James disapproved. And nobody had cigarettes around that pretentious school, so he stopped.

Remus was smiling at him amused. Sirius liked the way he was impressed.

"Want one?" he asked offering him the pack.

Sirius smirked before taking one. He hadn't had a cigarette in ages. He just hoped he didn't cough like the first time.

Remus had a lighter as well. Of course. So he lit up Sirius’s before doing it to his.

Sirius remembered he had been this fascinated only for one person, George. So handsome, easy going. With that vibe of a bad boy. Sirius had bought a leather jacket after meeting him.

He was feeling the same admiration for Remus.

Sirius observed Remus smoking in silence thinking who was this boy and also excited to meet this new version of him.

"What?" Remus asked after a while. He was smiling "I know that smoking is bad, I've been told"

Sirius looked away "Oh yeah, I know" he shrugged and continued smoking. Luckily he didn't cough and pretended to be an expert at it "I'm just surprised"

"Why?"

"What happened to my sweet Moony, eh?"

Remus's cheeks went pink. It was adorable. Sirius realized that Remus's vibe perhaps was different. But he was the same sweet kid Sirius used to know.

"Moony.... I haven't heard that in a while"

It had been the nickname Sirius had given his friend. All because of Hope's Moon wishes. Captain Moonshine from their pirate games. Silly precious things they used to do as kids.

"It probably sounds stupid now"

But they were teenagers now.

"I like it" Remus was quick to reply "I liked it before and I like it now. It's our thing, isn't it?"

Sirius liked to have things together again. He smiled.

"Should I call you Starman?" Remus teased.

Well, that sounded stupid. Not adorable like Moony.

"My friends call me Padfoot now"

"Padfoot?"

Sirius grinned "It's a long story" bloody James and his idea of nicknames.

Remus giggled "Okay, Padfoot"

Sirius liked the way it sounded from Remus's mouth.

"I guess we have a lot of things to catch up, eh?"

Sirius figured. Between learning to smoke, growing up, adquiring new nicknames and becoming teens, it was a lot. Probably missed first times: drinking, smoking, first dates and kisses (Sirius was most curious about that). Five years had passed without each other. Sirius wondered how did he managed without Remus. His Moony.

"Yeah, Moons" he grinned "We have a lot to catch up"

And Sirius hoped he didn't have to be apart from Remus ever again.

[flying-jukebox-01]

Steve Earle - Copperhead Road (Official Music Video)👍🎶

Well, my name's John Lee Pettimore Same as my daddy and his daddy before You hardly ever saw grandaddy down here He only came to town about twice a year He'd buy a hundred pounds of yeast and some copper line Everybody knew that he made moonshine

Now the revenue man wanted frandaddy bad Headed up the holler with everything he had Before my time, but I've been told He never come back from Copperhead Road

Now daddy ran the whiskey in a big block Dodge Bought it at an auction at the Mason's Lodge "Johnson County Sheriff" painted on the side Just shot a coat of primer, then he looked inside Well, him and my uncle tore that engine down I still remember that rumblin' sound

And then the Sheriff came around in the middle of the night Heard mama crying, knew something wasn't right He was headed down to Knoxville with the weekly load You could smell the whiskey burnin' down Copperhead Road

Hey! Hey! Hey!

I volunteered for the Army on my birthday They drafted the white trash first, around here anyway I done two tour's of duty in Vietnam I came home with a brand new plan I take the seed from Colombia and Mexico I just plant it up the holler down Copperhead Road

And now the D.E.A's got a chopper in the air I wake up screaming like I'm back over there I learnt a thing or two from Charlie, don't you know You better stay away from Copperhead Road

Copperhead Road Copperhead Road Ha! Copperhead Road

[praxcrown5]

Carstober prompt #2 and 3: Ghost Driver and Spare Parts

Halloween Eve, 1941

“…and the only thing left after the monster attack was a crumpled license plate covered in fresh crankcrase oil!”  A red Cadillac Series 62–one James Glenrunner–leapt towards the small crowd of vehicles that were parked around him in a loose half-circle, laughing maniacally.

It was Halloween and the Glenrunner family was enjoying dinner and homespun Halloween-themed stories in the garage…as it was the only place large enough to accommodate everyone all at once. 

Normally, they’d be handing out metallic treats to the younger townsfolk, but it was a cold, rainy night with intermittent thunder and sleet.  No one with any lick of common sense was cruising the roads.

Annette Longhauler, a sleek black and chrome Cadillac Series 62 Sedannette, was parked alongside her husband, Samuel, a red, International Harvester Company semi.  Sam had the distinction of the being both the largest truck in the Longhauler family and one of the strongest trucks east of the Mississippi.  Normally, he’d be on the road through December, but a downturn in the economy had forced him to renegotiate his Time and Material Contract with the Federal Government, and he was garaged until further notice…. which was fine in his book, as it meant that he could spend some quality time with his family.  

He smiled down at a small, navy-blue car who was nestled between him and his wife: Their soon-to-be-three year old son, Hudson.  

“Ack!  Small bites, there, Hud… ” Annette snagged the end of her son’s teething toy—an old truck bumper--and tried to pull it away from him, but the child bit down as hard as he could and stubbornly refused to let go.  Annette pushed herself upright for more leverage, bringing all four of Hud’s tires off of the ground.  The kid growled and shook his body from side to side, like a gator with a fresh kill.  

“Eh, let him have it,” Chuckled a blue Oldsmobile model 50E.  “He can’t swallow the whole thing anyhow…”

Annette’s blue eyes flicked across her hood to focus on her father.  “But Pa…he could bite off something that’s too big for his crop.”

Otis Glenrunner, patriarch of the Glenrunner family, smiled and waved his front left tire, dismissively.  “His teeth ain’t strong enough for that yet…”

“If ya say so…” She set her son down, and returned to a resting position.  Hud followed closely, and once she was situated, he nestled back up against her front fender and continued gnawing on the bumper, looking very much proud of himself.

“Are y’all even listening…?” James pouted.

“We heard ‘ya,” Otis answered, looking annoyed.

“And…what did you think?”

“Urm…” Otis stammered. 

“It was…definitely a story,” Annette added, trying to sound upbeat.  

“But…I thought it was supposed to be a scary story…” Hud chimed in, distracted.

Otis laughed loudly before he could stop himself; even Sam chuckled. 

“Hud, that wasn’t very nice,” Annette corrected, gently.  

“But…I wasn’t scared.” The infant insisted, setting down the bumper and giving his mother a pleading look.  “And you always tell me to be honest…”

Otis continued laughing; he couldn’t help himself. 

James pursed his lips.  “My story was plenty scary…just ask your uncle.” He gestured towards the ramp leading down into the basement.  James’ twin brother, Carl, was staring back at him with wide, terrified eyes; his teal body was shaking loudly.

“Uncle Carl is a-scared of everythin’…” Hud snorted.

Now it was Annette’s turn to laugh.  “You aren’t wrong…”

“Hey!”

Annette smirked at her brother and stuck her tongue out at him.

There was a long pause, as everyone in the group looked around at everyone else.  “So…who’s gonna be the narrator this time?” Otis wondered.

“Whoever tells it better make sure it's scary!” Hud, glared at James and tamped his little tire for emphasis.  Suitably chastised, James pulled up along side his father, and took a long swig from the communal moonshine jug.

There was another pause, then Sam said in low voice.  “Urm…I have a story.”  

All eyes turned to him.  

“Really, Pa?  You have a scary story?”  Hud pushed himself upright and turned so that he could smile up at his father.  Sam was a truck of few words, and for him to offer…well, it definitely got everyone's attention.  “Is it really, really scary?”

The semi nodded.  “Very much so.”  He cast a sly look over his hood at James.  “Because unlike James’ story…mine actually happened.”

Everyone just stared at him.  Annette, especially, looked surprised.  

“Yay! A scary story!”  Hud zipped up to him and did a cute little spin, his expression rapturous.  

Sam raised a tire. “Settle down, now,” He rumbled with a smile, and Hud quickly scooted near his front bumper, barely able to contain his excitement.  

“My most common run is Atlanta to Jacksonville.  It’s an easy drive, even with a full load of lumber, and if you do it at night, there’s less traffic to contend with…except for the Ghost Drivers.”

Hud’s eyes were wide.  “Oo!”

“’Ghost Drivers’?” Annette wondered, leaning closer.

Sam nodded.  “I noticed the first one on my junior run on the 78, well east of Athens.  It was a lady car, with sky-blue paint, just…driving slowly on the shoulder without a care in the world.  Now that stretch was miles and miles away from anything in either direction, and I was likely the first vehicle that she’d seen since dusk.  Be that as it may, she didn’t acknowledge me as I drove past.  Instead, she just kept straddling the white line with a sort of vacant smile. I figured that she might be camping somewhere in the area, and didn’t think anything of it…but she was only the first.”

It’s not every trip you spot them. But sometimes you see a few on a single go, but I don’t ever recall seein’ them during the day; it’s only ever at night, and only when you’re driving far from civilization in the dark. The other trucks call them ‘Ghost Drivers’ or ‘Moon Wanderers,’ but I prefer the term “Fog Liners,” since that’s always where you always find them: on the fog line, following it the way a train follows its track.  All makes and models just…driving with nothing but the line and the pale light of the moon to guide them.  After a time, you don’t really pay them no mind…”

Annette stared at her husband with a look of surprise bordering on shock.  Despite doing their best to work through their communication issues, Sam had never mentioned any of this before.  

“One night, a few months ago, I passed by an old Buick model 10.  She was so rusted that there weren’t a splash of paint left on her, and the metal on her undercarriage would crumble and flake off anytime she hit a dip in the road.”  His gaze became distant then, like he was getting lost in the memory.  “And…I remember her eyes looking strange.  They were dull and…colorless, like they belonged to someone who was just about to pass on into the next life, but she was smiling the most serene smile you’d ever seen.  And then I noticed that her tires were all low on air.  Not flat, but very low.  So low that she probably wouldn’t make it to the next town…which was some fifty miles distant.  And they made a very distinctive sound: a slow, rhythmic ‘fwump, fwump, fwump…’”

He paused, seemingly for effect, but then he frowned and looked away.  “I…wanted to keep on driving, the scene unsettled me so much…but if she really was in trouble, I just couldn’t leave her out there for the scavengers.  So… I pulled onto the shoulder some distance ahead of her…and…I could hear the ‘fwump, fwump, fwump…’ of her tires as she drew near…”  

Hud scooted closer to Annette; eyes wide.  

Even James and Otis shuddered and drew nearer to one another.  Carl was no where to be seen.  No sooner than Sam said “ghost,” he’d disappeared into the basement, well out of hearing range.  

“‘Ma’am, are you ok?’ I called out, once I could see her in my rear views.  She looked so much more...disheveled up close, and I remember feeling very scared…but I was also worried for her, and that gave me the courage to call out to her a second time. ‘Ma’am? Your tires are low and you’re in the middle of nowhere...’ 

“She Just kept smiling and driving forward.

“My fuel pump was goin’ a mile a minute.  ‘She must be having some sort of medical episode, and needed help,’ I thought to myself.  I dropped my trailer and turned around, but then my brakes locked up. And, no matter how much I tried to move, I couldn’t; I was frozen in place.  And all I could do was watch as she got closer…and closer…”

Hud reversed until he was right up against Annette’s front left tire.

“Seeing as I was blocking the shoulder, she was forced to stop…and that’s when she looked at me.  Looked right through me with those colorless eyes.  She opened her mouth in a silent gape…and she grinned, her teeth pale and broken.  Then she darted forward, faster than a diving night hawk, and grabbed my tire…but not with her mouth.  It was some sort of mechanical arm that she had stowed in a panel on her right, front fender.  Before I knew what was happening, she was dragging me down the road, unfettted by my weight.  And the more I struggled, the more she just…smiled.  After what seemed like an eternity, my brakes unlocked and I spun with all the fight I had in me.  It was like hitting a concrete bridge pylon.”  He paused and drew in a ragged breath.  “She disappeared into the ditch…and I just stared at the spot where she’d gone over, unable to move, unbreathing for what seemed an eternity…”  His voice trailed off.  

“What happened to her?” Hud asked, fearfully.

“She climbed out of the ditch on her own power, and other than the rust that she’d had on her from the start, she was fine.  No dents.  No broken windows.  Nothing.  With how hard I hit her…I should have folded her in half…but there she was moving around like nothing was amiss.  And she met my gaze, then: She was still smiling, but she seemed…disappointed, and she maneuvered around me, though her eyes still bored onto mine.  ‘Fwump, fwump, fwump…’ the sound of her tires faded as she disappeared into the night.  I idled there, stunned, for a long time.  Eventually, I worked up the nerve to pick up my trailer, and continue on.  I caught up to her, in short order, and she was following the shoulder same as before.  But as I passed her, her eyes followed me.  And the last thing I saw of her as I drove away was her wide, happy, broken smile.”

The silence that claimed the room was profound.  

“I stopped at the next town, even though I had planned on driving through the night.  My whole front right fender was caved in from where I’d struck her.  And while I was getting fixed up, I started talking to the folks there.  Apparently, I was the first person to even attempt to speak to a Ghost Driver,” he shivered, suddenly, even though the garage wasn’t cold.  “Since then, I’ve seen plenty more, driving slowly on the shoulder, followin’ the fog line in the dark... I even saw a kid once.”  He looked out at the group of vehicles.  “But you know what’s strange…?”

“You mean aside from creepy, withered cars dragging a SEMI down the road?”  James chuckled, looking nervous.

Sam just smiled.  “The real strange thing is that every last one of ‘em notices me, now.  They watch me through their rear views as I come up behind them, lock eyes with me when I’m near, and then keep watching me until I’m well out of range of their headlights.”  

Hud squealed, and for a moment Annette was concerned that the story had been TOO scary.  But, she shouldn’t have worried.  Hud was fearless, and instead of cowering or crying, he began to circle the garage, excitedly, babbling about wanting to meet the rickety, old Ghost Driver who could toss his father around like a toy. 

The truck grinned, and intercepted the child on one of his laps.  “Was that scary enough for you, Hud?”

“It was even better than the ghost story Bobby’s Pa told us last year!”  His little tires tapped with glee.  “This is amazing!  I can’t wait to tell Bobby; he’s gonna be so jealous.”  He made a playful donut that brought him around to his father’s fender, the same fender that had been damaged in the story.  The metal had been repaired and repainted, but it didn’t stop Hud from reaching up to prod it gently with his tire.

“Yeah…” James said, haughtily, puffing himself up.  “That didn’t really happen.”

Sam locked eyes with the Cadillac.  He didn’t argue or get angry; he just stared.  And as the minutes stretched, longer, and longer, James’ eyes widened, and he slunk back looking horrified.  “By the Manufacturer….you’re serious?”

Sam’s expression changed, tottering somewhere between bemused, hesitant and tense.  As if he were glad for the company, but discomfited by having to recall the events of that night.  His gaze shifted as he noticed Otis watching him with a look he couldn't place.

After a moment, everyone, even Hud, noticed the silent conversation, held with their eyes.  Otis was an older car, and well-travelled.  Not to the same extent as his son-in-law, but you don't run moonshine through the Georgia high country and not see your fair share of…oddities.

“You’re lucky to have gotten away with just a dented fender,” Otis said at last.

Sam simply shrugged, and took a long drink from the moonshine jug. “That's what they say…” 

Annette goggled. Hud tamped his tires excitedly.  James looked like he was going to be sick.  And Carl, despite doing his darndest to stay out of pane-shot, heard the confirmation and fainted loudly.

Character refs/ref photos

Annette

Otis

Sam

James and Carl

Baby Doc

[postoctobrist]

Dear Alice, A very tragic funny thing happened and it made me think of you so I figured I'd share it. So, my uncle just died. He was a very sad navy mechanic who loved horror movies, working on cars, not sharing his feelings, and baby talking to cats and crying. he died just a few days shy of a year since his dad, my grandad. With this background out of the way: On that saturday, just before it happened, I decided to do a self care. I took 2 20mg edibles and drank a belt of our moonshine, hopped into the shower with a nice beer and some candles and luxuriated. right as I was becoming debilitatingly high, my mother screamed and thats how I found out he had been picked up by the paramedics cos his heart had failed suddenly. my ma tore ass to the hospital and I had to drive myself, high as fuck, through a snowstorm. Alice, I was never in the service. I come from hippie stock. and yet, whenever I get high I catch myself marching and stiffly saluting. when given my grandmothers cane to hold at the hospital, it became a swagger stick. I was the only one coherent enough to negotiate with organ donation, I made the arrangements for the DNR. I watched the eyes of the man as he passed and it was like time had collapsed in on itself. I kept standing at parade rest, I told my mother "we'll get through this trooper." No one seemed to notice how much of a freak I was being. Thankfully, I was able to get things finalized. Anyway, I was sitting in the parking garage at the end of it all at about 2 AM and remembered you saying something about "condition yellow motherfucker" and chuckled. I did manage to get my knife back from the ER security guy as well. Anyway, not looking for condolences and whatnot, just felt the need to tell you this. Hope things are well for you. stay healthy.

I’m sorry but I am weeping laughing. Where did you get the weed that makes you tactical? How do I get some? Always remember, you did your country, your family and the traditions of the service proud. Lt. Col Cooper is proud of you. I am proud of you. Stay frosty. Semper fi or whatever

[verdemoun]

Kieran takes part in the saint denis bank robbery and everything actually goes well

thank you i just finished angelo bronte man of honor and know kieran isn't going to be there when i boot up the game next. i desperately need some copium

hosea, being a smart, hardened, lifelong outlaw, knows better than to just accept a story someone tells them. he always asks around about new outlaws joining the gang, just to confirm they are who they say they are. they definitely don't need to be dealing with another traitor.

he definitely wasn't expecting to find out their nervy o'driscoll stableboy was in fact disgraced former sergent duffy, wanted by both the us army and law enforcement for a combined bounty equal to that of dutch's for abandoning his post only to become the figurehead of a gang as large as the vdls.

he has to confront kieran about it, obviously, and assures a terrified kieran his secrecy IF kieran will help him in planning a few jobs, now knowing about kieran's previous role as leader of a gang that had successfully robbered several city banks up north

so kieran becomes an ear for hosea to run plans by and scheme with. kieran points out a distraction is a stupid idea - it'll just mobilise the police, and saint denis is a wealthy city but still a small enough city that the mobilised force will be able to get to the bank fast and hard once they realise the bomb was a distraction.

since killing civilians is frowned upon, and one of the few distractions that would actually work, they relocate the bomb to the police headquarters in saint denis. despite dutch's reluctance, it's agreed hosea will stay at shady belle to protect camp should something go wrong.

abigail goes into the police station playing a hysterical mother looking for her son while kieran sneaks in the back with a bomb, a little extra moonshine and tnt for a more destructive explosion, and like clockwork both are already back at the wagon merrily on their way back to shady belle when it goes off.

robbery happens on cue, most of the lawmen screaming and sprinting towards the station. by the time the law have stopped picking their dead and injured from the rubble of their former station and realise the robbery even happened, the gang are back together drinking to the last score without so much as a scratch.

they get their boat and set sail for australia or tahiti. thanks to having absolutely no idea how to sail, what supplies to bring, and several of the gang including hosea setting severely sea sick, they end up finding an uninhabited island the galapagos and retire in peace. sadie as the only one who knows anything about homesteading becomes their savior. hosea spends his later years fishing with kieran and javier. arthur recovers from tb and becomes a fixture as helpful as uncle in the lives of the marstons. dutch, bill and micah, still itching for the glory of being an outlaw becomes pirates and are never seen again.

[child-of-of-the-sunshine]

Jail Bird

Stephanie Banks kept her nose clean even if she was dating a Duke boy, but today was not her day first she was late for class at the community college then late for her shift at the Boars Nest so when the red and blue lights lit up her rear view mirror she was on the verge of tears, it didn’t help her and Bo got into a fight over him running moonshine, she pulled over and rolled down her window, she looked in her side mirror and saw it was Rosco coming up “no no no.” She mumbled laying her head on the steering wheel “Do you know why I pulled you over?” Rosco asked, she looked up and Rosco smiled knowing who it was “No, I’m just trying to get home sir.” She said trying to get out of whatever Roscos game was this time “I’m going need you to step out of the car.” Rosco said “Yes sir.” Steph grabbed her bag and got out and watched Rosco, he then stood and walked over to her “You're going to have to come in. I smell alcohol in this car.” Rosco said grabbing his hand cuffs “Rosco I work at the Boars Nest.” She said starting to argue “Well I smell the alcohol so you're under arrest.” She complied and put her hands behind her back, she already knew who she would call, she would call Katie, soon she put in a cell and gave her a phone call “come on Katie pick up the phone.” She mumbled “Hello.” Katie said “Katie I need you to call uncle Jesse tell him I was arrested but don’t tell Bo please.” She said “Steph how the hell did you get arrested?” Katie questioned “Rosco, that's all I’m saying.” She said “I’ll call uncle Jesse.” Katie said before hanging up, she heard Rosco laugh behind her and then she was taken back

Duke Farm

Bo was waiting for Steph to show up, Daisy had told about her day, and he was waiting for her he had the General Lee ready to go so they could go look at the stars. He then saw Uncle Jesse walk out the house “Uncle Jesse where you going?” Bo questioned “I was told I can’t tell I just gotta pick something up.” Jesse said before walking to his truck, Bo ran after his uncle and got in the passenger seat “Bo.” Jesse said “Only time I get told I can’t come if it’s to do with her.” Bo said “Bo, stay at the house.” Jesse said “no not if it’s to do with her.” He said

Bo had to woman in his life his car and Steph but for Steph he would go to hell and back for that girl he met at the boars nest “Fine you come but you are staying in the truck.” Jesse said before starting the truck and heading to town, bo waited in the truck outside the jail house but got out once he saw Steph coming she looked like she’d been crying “Hey, woah.” Bo said running towards her “what happened?” Bo asked “Rosco happens I already had a bad day and was trying to get the farm.” She said “Where’s uncle Jesse?” Bo asked, “Getting my car from the impound.” She said leaning her head on Bo’s chest, Bo hugged her and then walked them backwards towards his uncle truck so he could lean against it, Uncle Jesse came out with her keys and tossed them to Bo “I’ll see you at the house.” Jesse said as Bo leaned away from the truck, Steph and Bo walked to her car “I’m driving.” Bo said, “I know.” Steph said walking to the passenger side, Bo came over and opened her door for her and shut once she got in “He said it smelled like alcohol.” Steph said leaning her head against the headrest “It don’t.” Bo said starting the car “Guess I’m a jail bird now.” Steph laughed “I guess so.” Bo laughed

[breezingby]

Steve Earle ~ Copperhead Road (Official Music Video)

~ ♫♪♫ ~

Well, my name's John Lee Pettimore Same as my daddy and his daddy before I hardly ever saw grandaddy down here He only came to town about twice a year Buy a hundred pounds of yeast and some copper line Everybody knew that he made moonshine

Now the revenue man wanted grandaddy bad Headed up the holler with everything he had It's before my time but I've been told He never came back from Copperhead Road

Now daddy ran the whiskey in a big block Dodge Bought it at an auction at the mason's lodge Johnson county sheriff painted on the side Shot a coat of primer then he looked inside Well, him and my uncle tore that engine down I still remember that rumblin' sound

Then the sheriff came around in the middle of the night Heard mama cryin', knew something wasn't right Headed out to Knoxville with the weekly load You could smell the whiskey burnin' down Copperhead Road

~ ♫♪♫ ~

Volunteered for the army on my birthday Draft the white trash first 'round here anyway Done my two tours of duty in Vietnam I came home with a brand new plan I take the seed from Colombia and Mexico Just plant it up the holler down Copperhead Road

Now the D.E.A's got a chopper in the air Wake up screaming like I'm back over there Learned a thing or two from Charlie don't you know You better stay away from Copperhead Road

~ ♫♪♫ ~

Copperhead Road

~ ♫♪♫ ~

Copperhead Road

~ ♫♪♫ ~

Copperhead Road

~ ♫♪♫ ~

[tunnelsnacks]

Okay! Sorry this took me a sec @clownbasedintrigue I got distracted with work and looking for a specific audio file (I didn’t find it) Here’s a short collection on my Preston HC’s. A lot of these are my character notes for him that I use for my series the Noble Lie (which is under reconstruction rn) so when I say Norah I’m referring to my sosu. I originally blocked this out in paragraphs but moved it to bullets so it was less annoying to read! xx

Fair warning, they’re only interesting to me

His full name is Preston Joshua Garvey, friends call him Pres

26 years old, born in the spring. Norah decided to celebrate his birthday on March 20th because he wasn’t sure on the date - the first day of spring and the signaling of lighter days ahead

Hes the Co-General of the Minutemen

Has a dry sense of humor, most of the things he says elicits laughs from others because of the timing of his delivery

Preston can play the fiddle, usually he whistles when he plays but if a little bit of liquor get in him? That pretty boy can sing

 He’s a dog person and hates molerats, the scar on his face came from one

Preston’s parents are named Lorane and Easton and he’s an only child. Lorane is a weaver and makes textiles his uncle Martin, Easton sells them at the store they run in a state over. Preston hasn’t seen them since he was about 20 but they send letters back and forth. They love their son very much

Gwinnett is his preferred beer, his favorite alcohol is moonshine, and he’s not a coffee person (I think wasteland coffee is made out of dried broc flower root) he’s okay with the pre-war version

Ben Gibson, who’s a cut character in game, joined the Minutemen with Preston, they dated for a little bit

His depression will never fully go away, some days are hard

 You know how some people can make trumpet sounds with their mouth? Preston’s one of those people. He considers it his special talent

 The green scarf he wears was made by his mama, it’s the most important thing he owns

 Cooking is something he’s extremely good at, he says everything he leaned is from his mama and has a ‘cook book’ full of recipes that he’s collected over the years

 Preston is the textbook definition of a morning person, on average he wakes up at 5am

 When Danse leaves the brotherhood of bigots they become friends, its rocky at first but they’re friends

He hasn’t spent much time around Piper but they have a big brother little sister type energy

 There isn’t one of Norah’s companions that he outright hates. Gage isn’t one of his favorites of course and he was weary of RJ at first, there’s a weird friction Deacon built between them but there’s no hatred

 Preston is in love with Norah but knows that isn’t reciprocated so he never lets her know though it’s super obvious (Preston’s not good at hiding things from people he cares about) I think that as long as the sosu is a kind person, he’s in love with them

He’s considered a tourist for the Railroad if a label was needed though Preston knows as much abut the organization as Pippin does about the Fellowship of the Ring. He knows the call and response phrase and who to send someone who asks him if he has a geiger counter too, but that’s about it. However the railsign for ally is scratched into his radio receiver that’s worn over his chest

[containatrocity]

Duck doesn't make a lot of trips to the fire station- it's not really something he tends to focus on- He's not exactly the sort to ask for any sort of emergency service even when he needs it- but, in the wake of so many deaths, and his newfound ability to get around a little better without having to numb out the ache in his knee with moonshine, he figures he should at least check in with his little brother- only crossing paths at their mom's place tended to end in one of them getting roped into doing something around the house, after all. But it's not Duck who heralds his arrival, no, that's Robin, the little boy still wearing his backpack from school as he charges into the firehouse, inhales, and bellows an: "UNCLE NICKY!" to state his arrival.

"Robbie, buddy, inside voice, Christ." His brother had been kind enough to watch him for Duck's birthday, which had, inevitably, meant that Duck got to listen to Robin go on and on about honking the fire truck horn for days after. "Hey, Nicky. Sorry about him, told him I was swinging by after I got him from school to check in and thank you for watching him the other night and he uh. Well, demanded I let him come and when I said 'i won't be there long and it'll be boring grown up talk' he started asking me horribly invasive questions about why I keep having strangers over- so we're here together, yaaaay!" He looks... happier despite the ever-present sarcasm. Has for a minute- and the once-constant smell of liquor and weed is gone- replaced with his usual cologne. "Figured I'd swing by without ma hanging around, actually manage a conversation without 'er trying t' talk one of us into cleanin' her gutters or somethin."

@firecaptainphoenix

[angel-inked]

Patriarch, Chapter 6: It's a start!

Hello fellow writers! 😁👋 happy WIP Wednesday!

I'm a sucker for Howard and Forrest fluff 🥰🥰🥰

Taglist: @vvkingofgaybisciutsvv @thequeenofthewinter @hecatemoon87 @mollybegger-blog @cameleonhardyfan63 @wandawiccan60

Howard's time in the army proved useful when it came to building a still, "well, it's a start!" he exclaimed, as Forrest watched on. Howard pulled up his welding mask and watched Forrest eye the work in progress, he could see his little brother's mind running a mile a minute. "Whatcha think Forrest?" Howard asked. Forrest looked between Howard and the copper plates. Forrest only offered a shrug, Howard nodded and went back to work.

To Howard, Forrest was just Forrest. Others saw the middle child as rude when he refused to answer or, what they thought to be completely ignoring questions. The first fight Howard was ever in was with a guy who said something about Forrest being mentally deficient, Howard wasn't sure what urged the man to say this but he didn't care, he was defending his brother and that was that. Forrest knew why, he's different, he's known this from a young age but his particular difference wouldn't have a name until the 1940s and honestly he wasn't interested enough to worry about his brain being hard wired differently, he was just Forrest and if someone didn't like it that wasn't his problem, it was their problem.

"Ouch" Forrest hissed, Howard looked up to see Forrest rubbing his arm. "Catch a spark did ya?" Howard asked, Forrest nodded. That was going to leave a mark, a small one but a mark nonetheless. "Come here" Howard smiled. Forrest walked around the forge bench and Howard pulled off his welding gear and put it on Forrest himself "right here" Howard explained, guiding his little brother's hands. "Just like that" he beamed. Forrest looked up at Howard with a slight uptick in his lips that would be invisible to anyone who didn't know Forrest very well.

"Appreciate you lettin' us use your welder sir" Howard smiled, shaking hands with Mr. Pate. "No need to thank me, you're brother does enough work for me as it is" the older man replied. "Yep, ol' Forrest always was a hard worker" Howard exclaimed proudly, pulling Forrest in to his side "did pretty well for his first time with a welder too". Forrest grunted and looked up at Howard, who was practically beaming, having Howard teach him how to weld reminded him of when things were somewhat simpler for the brothers, when Jack was barely old enough to crawl and Howard took just as much pride in teaching his brothers how to do different things as he did now. Forrest was pulled from his thoughts when the warm safety of Howard's arm and side disappeared.

The pair loaded their copper contraption into the back of Forrest' truck and before long had a small still site set up, "like I said earlier, it's a start" Howard chuckled, wiping the creek water off his hands on his pants. Forrest nodded, "now, do you know how to make this stuff?" Howard asked, placing his hands on his sides. "I have an idea, don't sound like it's all that hard" Forrest replied, his voice slightly louder than normal from the certainty that no one but Howard was around to hear him. "Yeah, says you" Howard quipped, having always considered Forrest the brain of the three brothers. "I'm serious" Forrest grumbled, "it ain't that hard.. even for you" he teased. Howard gasped in a dramatic show of fake hurt, "you wouldn't!" He exclaimed. "Dumbass" Forrest mumbled, shaking his head in amusement at Howard as the pair began to walk back to the truck.

"So.. what did you guys need Mr. Pate's welder for?" Jack asked, as Forrest sat dinner on the table. Howard looked up to Forrest from his seat, wondering himself what Forrest would tell Jack. "Jack" Forrest groaned as he kneeled next to his young brother. "Do you know what moonshine is?" He asked, Jack nodded and Forrest shot Howard an accusing look. "Cricket told me his uncle sells it" Jack clarified. Forrest glanced between his brothers and nodded, "is that what you're doing?" Jack asked. Forrest nodded once more, "I won't tell" Jack explained, and that was the end of conversation that night.

"Well, it went over better than I thought it would" Forrest mumbled, as he poured feed in the hog pen. "Yep" Howard nodded as he leaned on the fence and watched the pigs eat their fill. He turned to his brother as Forrest let out an irritated sigh, "are you gonna help or just follow me around all damn day?" Forrest grumbled. "What do you need me to do?" Howard asked. "There's always shit that needs doin' Howard" Forrest murmured, as he walked back to the barn. Howard sighed as he shook his head and caught up with his brother, "I can tell you're feelin' better" Howard smirked as he took a bucket of water from Forrest. "What's that supposed to mean?" Forrest asked with a confused look. "You're actin' more like you" Howard replied. Forrest grunted, "this go to the small ones?" Howard asked, and Forrest nodded, watching his brother move toward a pen that housed some piglets.

Forrest stood where Howard had left him, he wouldn't admit it but Howard was right. He did feel a hell of a lot better than he has in lord knows how long now, but his thoughts went back to mom and dad, his thoughts went back to his sister. Why him? Why was he getting better and not them? A harsh exhale escaped his lips, a breath he hadn't realized he was holding in. The clink of a metal bucket made him jump slightly, "Alright?" Howard asked, gesturing to him. "I don't know" Forrest mumbled. He held his hat against his chest and rubbed the seams of his sweater between his fingers, Howard warped his arms around Forrest, who couldn't seem to process his own thoughts in the moment. "It'll be alright, we have each other. We're the Bondurant brothers, we'll figure something out" Howard encouraged, rubbing the back of his baby brother's head. Forrest hesitantly put his arms around Howard, not wanting him to let go. "I ain't goin' anywhere, not until you're ready" Howard soothed. They stayed like this for a while, until Forrest pulled away and went back to work, Howard shook his head and helped as much as he could. The pair worked silently, Forrest showed Howard what he needed him to do with gestures and Howard would nod when he understood what he was being told to do. That's how they spent the rest of their morning, in silence.

[iinterstellars]

warmth spreads all over his body, something that despite the extremely short time knowing each other seems to be something linked to her presence. " thanks, " he's being genuine too. " ...um, i'm not sure... " it's all he can really say. thomas considers himself to be quite grounded in reality, he's VERY centered, but maybe this is the one topic where he'd rather just live in denial. maybe it's once again him being hopeful to an extreme, or just a defense mechanism, but ever since it all went down he hasn't stopped to think that this COULD very well be how the world works now. " ...i hope not. " he adds a few seconds later. he can only wish that smarter people than him, with all their tools and knowledge are working tirelessly to make everything better. how can he say he's never even met anyone quite like her? a growing part of him wants to make sure that she understands that he means it, she's SPECIAL... he sees so much potential. at the same time doing so would open the door to feelings he's not sure he CAN deal with considering how everything is now. it wouldn't be fair. " you're my only medical assistant. " he settles for THAT instead, in the same playful tone. he's had some in the past, sure, but he doesn't think they count now. " my favorite liquor is probably ouzo, it's tradition for family gatherings, " he can remember the first time he ever tried it, in a big party surrounded by cousins, aunts, uncles, his parents. even his grandparents when they were still around, they were probably the MOST fond of it. how often he saw it whenever his huge family was around. it brings good memories. " it's pretty hard to find outside of greece though... i could settle for rum or vodka, even wine. ANYTHING but moonshine. " he shakes his head, trying to send away the vague thoughts of that awful burn going down his throat. " anyways, let's finish this... i'm sure you have better things to do than spending the rest of your afternoon cooped up here with me. " with that said he redirects to the task at hand, going through medicines and their dates with ease.

a man of no regrets - defne almost says it aloud but stops herself . yet again , he's pushing his way out of the box . she tilts her head , as if examining him . mainly , her eyes flick from his lined forehead to his mouth ( those ever-so parted lips ) - then she remembers, and yanks her gaze back up . " good thing you came . " defne says , genuinely . " do you think this is kinda going to be it ? " she can't help herself musing aloud , casting her gaze around the man-made bay . " this is the new world ? " she can't even think of doing anything but surviving . it's all that's been running in her veins for months . it seems weird to sit down now . to relax . to have a conversation and know she'll be safe . THERE'S NO MORE LOOKING OVER YOUR SHOULDER ANYMORE . defne hums along in agreement . those girls did make all of the difference . they saved defne's life .

defne temporarily wonders if she's IMAGINED thomas' words to her . him ? glad ? for her ? she yet again finds herself at a loss of how to respond . she'd usually laugh , or offer a flirty smile and sly comment back - but thomas has made it abundantly clear he doesn't CARE for that . " i bet you say that to all your medical assistants. " defne teases instead , because she doesn't want to think about how she blooms under his words , under his compliments .

DEFNE'S GRIN WIDENS at the way he looks away , as if talking about something dangerous or PRIVATE . she wonders if he's like this about every vaguely - NSFW topic . " what's your drink of choice ? samara is quite creative . " defne still recalls her version of a CIDER she made once . it was nothing like real cider , and it was warm , but it had made all of them giggly and loose . defne remembers where she is and looks down at the notebook . she hasn't written anything down in a few minutes and she busies herself with recalling the last few dates he said aloud .

[dearyallfrommatt]

Family Bibles & Old Picture Books, Halloween Edition

Having a conversation with Momma is a trip. Ask her a question, especially when she's already been wound up, & you might get an answer. You will definitely get an answer that bounces from topic to topic, none with any reasonable connection to the original answer and rarely to each other. You will also get a borderline embarrassing info dump of her family's history. You know how Claudius told folks he was working on a history of the Julians, his family? It's like that but with a lower-middle class, blue-collar family of Mississippi country people. Not rednecks or hicks and definitely not hillbillies, but country people. It's her thing and she's been doing that for as long as I've known her.

She's having a minor medical procedure tomorrow, one of those things old folks have to do to stay alive. It's nothing major but her diet's restricted. In a question about what carbonated drinks can and can't have, she jumped from topic to topic at least eight times in the span of less than three minutes. I never did get an answer, either. This is needed information because I'm having the same procedure next month, as I am officially in the "Gettin' Old" phase of life.

I did learn something terribly interesting, though. My maternal grandfather - someone who looms large in Momma's family history - was a twin and his brother died when I was very young. I don't think he made sixty. Pawpaw made eighty but just barely. Anyhow, both of their wives had the same name.

Not too crazy, I know - one of those cute coincidences that make Reader's Digest lists - but there's something y'all can't get. My grandmother had a very unique first name. Her middle name is a different story, but she had the same name as my uncle's wife. I've never or seen this name anywhere and it's probably a mispronunciation of a name from Classical Rome that Southerns had a thing for around the latter quarter of the nineteenth century.

The only thing interesting about my family is that we're pretty dull. No Faulknerian secrets or hidden shames, just generation after generation of mechanics, farmers, and teachers. We were always good at what we did and could always be counted on to do what we said we'd do. We're still like that, and we still spend just enough time at work as they need to have a family, own where they live, and indulge in their hobbies, usually hunting and/or fishing.

They don't misbehave much, either. Pawpaw's daddy ran a moonshine still and my cousin's middle boy has done time for selling pills. He's straightened himself out that, acknowledging that while he had many talents, he was too dumb to sell drugs. His words and he's a good kid.

It's always the core running thing, but in-laws get absorbed in and treated no differently. Divorced in-laws become persona non grata with a thoroughness Joe Stalin would have admired. And for the most part, everyone's successful middle-class bourgeoisie, the American Dream played out. There was darkness and even though people back then didn't consider it darkness, it was still pretty damn dock. No millionaires, though my uncle's assets count. His surviving son played a season with the Rockies minor league team before deciding he didn't like the life. That's about it. My brother and I have both been in bands you never heard of, but we had fans and sold CDs. That is stretching and I ain't going to pretend it ain't. And alcoholism, but that's almost background noise in those days. Nobody farms anymore but everyone works the Land. The Land is very important in my family and deserves a capital letter.

They're just boring and doing pretty good, basically. Typical middle-class Mississippi, right there, still fixing machines and working the land. But this new revelation and the generational vengeance tropes seen in a multitude of horror movies and books, give me pause. What if my family is cursed? I'm the only stone loser and absolute square peg in the bunch. Furthermore, apart from my brother, I'm the only one who'd agree the fictional family deserved said generational vengeance. My life is fucked up flatter than hammered horseshit because I'm carrying the retribution for my family's sins, which are still not all that unique or interesting.

There is a certain... poetry to it, you got to admit that.

[zeemczed]

Okay so yesterday I was telling Mom about the photoshop of the only TV reboot we need - General Grant instead of General Lee for the Dukes of Hazzard. And then we hit on the fact that they should be running weed instead of bootleg booze (`cause A) moonshine has gone all artisanal and B) pot is still mostly illegal in Georgia).

We ended up hashing out a sizable portion of it.

Uncle Jesse would be Snoop Dog. Bo and Luke? Justice Smith and Keith Powers. Daisy? Zendaya. Boss Hogg? James Spader.

I'unno, I think there's something there.

[praxcrown5]

Cars Headcanon Drabbles: Doc Hudson

What follows is a summary of Doc's pre-racing life for a fanfiction I'm working on. I tried my best to work in existing canon where applicable. Enjoy!

Samuel James "Hudson" Longhauler Jr. (factory designation HH19512C308CU11211938: Cycle 9, Rotation 152, Batch 1A)--known as "Doc" Hudson to the denizens of Radiator Springs, or just "Hud" to his friends and loved ones--is a three-time, Piston Cup champion whom raced under the moniker "the Fabulous Hudson Hornet" between 1951 and 1954. He was sired by Diesel O'Twill and Annette Elizabeth Longhauler nee Glenrunner, despite the latter being married to Samuel Joseph Longhauler at the time. He was manufactured at the Hudson Motor Car Company Factory in Detroit, Michigan on 11/21/1938, and is modeled in the likeness of an Old World 1951 Hudson Hornet club coupe.

Hud grew up in Dawsonville, Georgia (a small-town northeast of Atlanta). His mother began teaching him internal combustion at four as he had a natural talent for engines, and a keen eye for catching ailments before they became big problems. His grandfather and his uncles also taught him how to make moonshine, something that he'd take advantage of when he was older.

Hud was highly intelligent…probably one of the smartest kids in town…but restless.  He would quickly master any topic that he felt was relevant to him…and then check out.  As a student, he skipped classes that didn’t interest him, and he was constantly being sent to the principal’s office for arguing with his teachers.  He loved mechanical engineering, and could spend hours tearing apart various types of engines and cadaver parts to figure out how they worked…but the chaotic environment of the garage was too overwhelming, so he began to spend more and more time causing trouble with his friends, and exploring the woods around Dawsonville. 

During Hud’s seventh-year growth spurt his adolescent two-cylinder engine grew into an in-line four capable of putting out 120 horsepower. He was in a league of his own, and he began to sneak out at night, racing the logging roads, and wreaking havoc around town.  By the time he was nine, Hud had served hundreds of hours of community service as reparations for various offenses including, but not limited to, reckless driving, petty theft, ethanol possession with intent to sell, disturbing the peace, vandalism, and trespassing.  His family tried to talk sense into him, but the only person who could seemingly get through was his mother, and even then, she could barely keep him in line.

In October of '47, he stumbled across a group of whiskey trippers hiding out in the woods north of Dawsonville. The trippers mistook Hud for a cop…and almost killed him…but he managed to convince their leader, an Oldsmobile named "Ghost," that he was just a curious kid.  They apologized, and invited him to rest at their camp…but unbeknownst to everyone, the local police and the ATF had both been tipped off about the gang's whereabouts…and were closing in. Fortunately for the trippers, Hud knew the farm and logging roads better than he knew his own family, and with his guidance, he and the the gang managed to evade the police, pausing to catch their breath well south of town.  Hud knew if he returned to Dawsonville, he’d have to explain himself to the town sheriff--who had been a part of the chase--and his family…and he couldn’t guarantee that his family’s reputation would keep him out of jail…so he decided to follow Ghost to Thomasville where he became a full member of the Still Chasers under the employ of a mechanic, and AARC team owner, named Smokey.

In May of '50, Smokey found himself in a bind when his primary driver was injured before an important race.  With all of his alts out for various reasons, Smokey was desperate, going so far as to offer a rare favor if Ghost could help him out.  Ghost volunteered Hud.  Initially, the twelve-year-old coupe was un-enthused, but Ghost persuaded him to race. Despite finishing fifth, Hud impressed Smokey so much that he offered him a spot on his team, and Hud would leave the Still Chasers so that he could spend the rest of the year training.  In 1951, Hud would go on to claim thirteen wins AND the championship title.  He would win additional champion titles in 52’ and 53’, and amass an unprecedented 65 victories through the 54�� season…though that one would be cut short by a near fatal wreck during the Fireball Beach 350.  It took a full year for Hud to get put back together, and he went back to Thomasville expecting a big welcome…but was shocked to discover that the new team owners (Smokey sold the team in 53’) had replaced Hud with a younger, faster car.

Hud’s world shattered.  He felt betrayed by Smokey, thinking that, as team 51's crew chief, he would have been part of the decision to have Hud replaced. In truth, Smokey had never been consulted and would ultimately resign from the team in protest.

Hud tried reaching out to Ghost...but it was like his friend had vanished off the face of the Earth.  He assumed that Ghost had written him off after his accident, when in reality, the tripper had been killed by the ATF in 54'.

He called the garage, hoping to talk to his mother…but ended up getting his uncle James…who told him about how the ATF locked down Dawsonville the night he disappeared, tearing apart his home and the family garage trying to find him. But instead of finding him, they found his grandfather's still. His grandfather and his uncles were arrested, and Hud's mother worked herself near to death trying to keep the business afloat with only Sam to help her...and her health never recovered.  James angrily blamed Hud for everything, told him to not bother coming home, and hung up on him.  What Hud didn’t know was that his grandfather had heard the last part of the conversation and tried to call him back…but Hud was already on his way out of town, heartbroken.

Not knowing what to do or where to go, he drove to Detroit, hoping to either disappear into obscurity, or start over.  Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t able to do either.  No matter where he went, people kept asking for autographs, or challenging him to races… and even hiding behind a contemporary paint job couldn’t save him the pain of having to think about what he lost in Thomasville.  He would eventually leave Detroit and head west, taking in the sights of Route 66. He helped out a stranded car in Carburetor County, Arizona, and in so doing stumbled upon a series of oddly ironic billboards.  Curious, he followed them to the Mechanical School of Carburetor County and, with no other options available, enrolled in classes to become a Doctor of Internal Combustion.  He finished at the top of his class, and with a newfound sense of purpose swelling in is engine, used the money that he'd made racing to open a clinic in the nearby town of Radiator Springs. 

Additional factoids: 

He resented his father, Sam, for being away from the house so much, and part of his acting out as a kid was in the hopes that it would encourage Sam to take a more active role in raising him.

He never knew that Ghost was his sire until after he mended bridges with Smokey.

He had a half-sister (Sandra Carlton) whom was sired by Ghost and Cassie Carlton (the scout for the Still Chasers). He never met her, nor was he ever made aware of her existence.

Was gay, and was quite the playboy in his early adult years.

When the Still Chasers were in town for some R&R, Hud would don an opulent paint job--usually some shade of blue--with expensive, white-wall tires...and then head on over to the nearest bar to drink and socialize.

He gave himself the nickname "The Fabulous Hudson Hornet" after getting separated from the rest of the Still Chasers outside of Jacksonville, FL and somehow managing to evade an entire ATF task force and police from three, separate counties.

He had a best-friends-with-benefits-esque relationship with Sheriff until his passing in '09.

He had degrees in Clinical Aerodynamics and Internal Hydraulics in addition to his Doctorate in Internal Combustion.

With Lightning's support, he would eventually find, and make amends with, his surviving family members (his grandfather and his uncle James).

Loved 1960’s rock and roll.

Young Hud's theme song: