#that sounds lovely to have a nice grandparent anyone want to loan one out

[alwaysxyou]

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[libraryofloveletters]

The Boy Next Door

Eddie Diaz x Reader 

Warnings: mentions of divorce, step-parents, a little bit of arguing, alcohol and consumption of, like one swear word, mentions of sickness

Category: fluff 

Word Count: 2.3K

Author’s Note: ahhh okay hi! this is my first 911 fic, idk it’s mostly self indulgent because I can’t get this idea out of my head, so here we are :) also for the purpose of this, Eddie never got married nor did he have Christopher 

Italics are flashbacks 

----

To say you were average was the understatement of your life, you weren't special nor were you awkward or shy, you were just average. You had always been the average person, in an average neighbourhood with an average life. 

But the boy next door, there was nothing average about him. 

The first time you met the boy next door was when you were 14, you had just moved into the neighbourhood with your father and his new wife. There was still lots to be done, the air conditioning was broken and your father seemed to misplace his toolkit during the move. He left you in the smouldering heat and ventured off to find a toolkit. Not only did he return with a toolkit but visitors as well.

“y/n!” your father shouted from the bottom on the staircase, “what?!” you shouted back. “Come down here!” you groaned as he called for you again, what could he possibly want now? 

Your father stood there with a man and a boy who you could only assume was his son. “Y/n, this is Ramon and his son, Eddie. They live next door and Ramon was kind enough to loan his tools and help me out.” you smiled at them from the top of the stairs. 

“Come down and get Eddie something to drink” your father said, you resisted the urge to roll your eyes and made your way down the stairs. 

“Would you like some lemonade ?” you asked, walking past him to the kitchen, he followed you. “Please” he leaned against the wall watching you move around the kitchen. 

“So, I hear you have a step mom?” he asks, you could feel his eyes burning into your back as you got the lemonade from the fridge. “Unfortunately” you mumble and pour some of the liquid into a glass, Eddie made his way over to the counter, he leaned up against it. 

“Do you know how to stand straight ?” you glance at him up and down, he laughs and shakes his head. 

“Why is it unfortunate that you have a stepmother ?” taking a sip of the lemonade, his eyes fixed on you. “Have you ever seen Cinderella ?” you asked, hopping up on the counter and picking up the other glass, Eddie nods. 

“Imagine living with Cinderella’s stepmother but times 100″ you groan, Eddie had a smile on his face. 

“You’re joking”

“Wish I was” 

“Well that sucks” he gave you an apologetic look

“Big time” your eyes are on your legs which were swinging back and forth. Eddie grabs your leg suddenly, “what the hell!” you jump, he laughs again. 

God he has such a cute laugh, wait what ? Stop he’s your neighbour, you barely know him.

“How’d you get that?” his thumb rubs over a scar on your leg by your ankle. “Bike accident when I was younger. It just didn’t heal right and left a scar, also because there was a giant gash there for a few weeks” you shrug. The two of you were in the kitchen for a few minutes, Eddie’s hand was still wrapped around your leg, neither of you saying a word to each other. 

“Eddie! Time to go!” Ramon shouted for Eddie, he let go of your leg. “See you around ?” he asked, you nodded, “yeah, see ya” Eddie smiled at you and you smiled back. 

You rarely saw Eddie after that day, he had been helping his father at his shop all summer so you never got a chance to hang out. When school started, you had a few classes with him, he occasionally asked for the answers to the homework after his practices ran long, which you gave to him. 

Somewhere deep down, you had a soft spot for the boy next door. 

Your friendship, if you could even call it that, was built solely on the fact that he lives next door and went to the same classes, if it weren't for that, you’d never speak to him. He wasn't a popular kid per se but he had a solid friend group and played sports, so in his own way, he was a popular kid. You were the kid that had your head down, did what you were told to do and left. 

High school flew by and you were glad. The whole “your high school years are the best years of your life” was bullshit, if anything, you ended up coming out more confused than you went in. 

The second time you spent time with Eddie was at your graduation party. The graduating class had arranged a grad party for yourselves in the neighbourhood. It consisted of loud drunk teenagers and their tipsy parents. By midnight, the street began clearing out, you hung back simply because you didn’t want to go home and deal with your stepmother and your father. 

Sitting on the curb at the end of the street, you could see the entire street. There  were still a few kids, a group of boys playing football terribly, a couple making out in the corner and some girls posing for pictures by some car. 

Eddie’s shouting broke your thoughts, “Papi I'm going!” It sounded like something had shattered, perhaps a bottle. You got up and slowly made your way over. “You want to throw away your life? Stay here, get a job Eddie, I won’t allow you to do this!” his father shouted back at him. Eddie began walking away from his father, Ramon grabbed his hand. “Do not walk away from me!” he shouted again. 

“You made up your mind and so did I. I'm going.” Eddie said sternly and walked away. He walked past you on his way to wherever he was going. He didn’t stop, he didn't talk, he just pushed past you and left. 

Eddie left home a few weeks later. You kept up with his parents, stopping by for dinner every once in a while. His father didn’t talk much about him, just that he was good and that’s all. Once his father left, his mother told you about what actually was going on, how Eddie felt as if he had found a purpose there. She shows you letters that he had sent and a picture he had sent her in his uniform.

“Doesn't he look handsome ?” she smiled, showing you the picture of Eddie. “Yeah, very handsome, Mrs. Diaz” you smiled back. 

“Do you know when he’s coming back?” 

The smile dropped from her face. “He- uh, reenlisted” she mumbled. “Ramon doesn't know” 

You nodded, “I won’t tell” 

“Who’s not telling what?” his father came back in for a moment, you smiled at him while Mrs. Diaz turned her attention to the sink. “Oh just that Mrs. Diaz is helping me with dinner for my grandparents tomorrow” you pick up the bowls on the counter, “Thank you for dinner, I'll see you guys around ?” 

“of course, thank you for coming over. it’s nice to have you around” his mother gave you a hug. 

You spent a lot of afternoons with his mom, just helping her out around the house. It wasn't until 4 years after that night that you saw him again. A few bruises and bumps, a couple scars and broken bones you were sure of, but he was back in one piece. In true Diaz fashion, his parents insisted on throwing a party for him. It was supposed to be a small party, just a few neighbours and family. By the time Mrs. Diaz was done inviting people, there was triple the amount of people coming. 

You headed over with your father, he had gotten sick recently and required a bit more help now. Truthfully by 25, you had planned to be living on your own but with your father getting sick and your step mother bailing, you stuck around. Once you got him situated, you found Mrs. Diaz in the kitchen. 

“Hey” you smiled at her, taking the bowl from her hands. “Hi mi amor, how are you ?” She smiled at you, you rested the bowl on the table across from the two of you, “I’m okay for now.” 

Eddie’s laughter filled your ears, that was a sound you didn't hear often but one you loved nonetheless “It’s good to have him home” his mother smiled, watching her son from the window. Mrs. Diaz gets pulled off by someone leaving you alone in the kitchen, turning to the fridge, you look through for a beer. “hey, pass me one too” his voice called as he watched through the backdoor. You pulled two out and handed on to him. 

“Thanks” Eddie leaned against the counter, you couldn't help but chuckle. “What?” taking a sip of the beer, his eyes meet yours. “Nothing, just noticing your habit of leaning on things” you stood across from him. 

“Sorry, but do I know you from somewhere ? You seem so familiar” his brows furrowed, tongue running across his lip. “I’m y/n, we’re neighbours” you told him, his eyes flickered up and down you, your name leaving his lips. 

God, your name never sounded so good. 

“Y/n...” his eyes ran over your body once more, his eyes locking on your foot. “Ankle Scar” he smiled, you nodded as your lips curled into a smile. “God, I'm so sorry I didn’t rememb-” “don’t worry ‘bout it, I'm not really anyone worth remembering” 

Eddie’s smile dropped, a pout visibly on his face. “Don’t say that, I'm sure you are.” 

“Is that why you didn't remember me ?” you teased

“We went to high school together” he took another sip, you nodded in agreement. “We’ve also lived next door to each other since we were 14”  you smiled at him. Again, the smile vanished from his face, “okay, now I really feel like shit. God, I'm sorry” “It’s cool really” you gave a smile once more. 

“Don’t you have a party to get back too ?” 

“Eh, not to fussy about parties to tell you the truth. I might take a walk around the block, care to join me ?” 

“Actually, yeah, I’d like that” 

Eddie opened the front door for you, letting you step out first. The two of you headed through the front to avoid everyone in the back, you walked down the street together, the dull streetlights lit the sidewalks, beer in your hand. 

“What have you been up to?” Eddie asked you, “Well, I'm a nurse but only part time. My dad needs me around.. now that he’s sick” 

“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, your dad’s a cool guy” 

Scoffing, you take a sip of your beer, “yeah, you’re the only one that’s ever thought that” your statement making Eddie chuckled. “If you don't mind me asking, what happened to the wicked step mother of the west?”  he looked over at you as he walked along the curb of the sidewalk, his arms out to balance himself. 

“She bailed when he found out he was sick.” 

Eddie stopped walking, “seriously ? that’s a bitch move” “yeah, tell me about it” 

Taking a seat on the curb, Eddie sat down too. The street was quiet for the most part, the only noise coming from down the street at Diaz’s place. Your fingers tapped against the beer bottle in your hand, aimlessly trying to keep up with the beat of the music. Eddie’s hand on your ankle startled you, causing you to drop the bottle. “Seriously ?! Again?” you shout, Eddie put his finger over your lips. “Shh! you’ll wake up the neighbours” he muttered, you rolled your eyes at his statement. “Tell me nurse y/n, how does one not ‘heal right’” he laughed, his thumb rubbing against the scar and causing you to roll your eyes again. “surely you can tell me that, Sergeant Diaz” 

Eddie looked shocked, “how did-” “your mom, she never stopped talking about her son, the army sergeant medic” you teased, he shook his head, laughing. “I know you’ve only been back for a few weeks, but what’s next ? Are you going to stay ?” 

“If I have a reason too, I will but I- I don't know what’s next” Eddie sighed. 

“Perhaps a change in scenery ?” you asked, he looked over at you with a questionable expression on his face. “I'm moving, to California in a few months” you told him. 

“Oh? What for?” 

“A change in scenery” you laughed and he smiled at you. 

“I haven't thought about moving, maybe it would be nice. A break away from here, not that I don't love it here, I love my parents too but-” he stopped talking, he realized the more he went on, the deeper a hole he dug. 

“You know, I hear the LAFD is always looking for recruits. I’m sure they wouldn't mind having an army medic on the team” you glance over at him, there’s a pause in the conversation. 

Eddie looks over at you, “that’s not a bad idea” his arm wraps around your shoulder, pulling you into his side, your arm his rested on top of his knee, 

“What do you say to a road trip and a roommate ?” he looks down at you. 

You look up at him, “I think I'd like that”  

---

tagging: @ssa-volturi​ @geeky-son-dr-reid

[okay-victoria]

Random Personal Rant

For anyone somehow here not from the original thread, this started off me getting asked what finishing school is and me getting shit off my chest that is only mildly relevant about how I could both be of the social class that gets sent to finishing school and grows up on welfare.

With an understanding that in many parts of the world it wouldn't qualify as so, as far as the US goes, my dad is from what counts as a very old money family from Baltimore & Philadelphia. Both his siblings went to college and one now owns a major hedge fund, and his sister is married to a C-level executive at a huge conglomerate. His parents went to college. His grandparents went to college. All eight of his great grandparents went to college. My dad...did not go to college. He was not about that life, and while I don't mean it as an insult, when I say his primary occupation until I was ~5 was a drummer in a mediocre band I mean that he opened for a lot of great acts, and if you lived in the Boston to Atlanta area in the 80s you may have heard him play, but he was never a huge national name. But he wasn't an amateur band playing for free at some random local gig either.

My mom grew up on a chicken farm in a Mennonite family in Pennsylvania but also completely rejected her heritage and became a model, sort of like my father, of mediocre status. Not Giselle Bundchen, but had national contracts and if you have a Graco ad/box from 1990-1993 you might see both me and her on it. They met because my mom's friends placed bets, one each, on who could sleep with a member of their favorite local band first and my mom picked my dad and...my mom was actually supposed to go be a model in Tokyo and found out she was pregnant with me and couldn't go 😂

So, after my parents had two kids back to back with a third on the way and determined they needed lifestyles more in line with having three children, they became much poorer than they originally were because my mom stopped working and my dad, with a barely-passed-high-school education but needing a true "day job" worked day labor in construction. My dad's father was too proud to give us money/help if my dad didn't beg for it; despite having eventually four young children my dad never did so we ended up on all the state assistance programs one could imagine. My grandma jokes that dinners at my parents house were BYOC - bring your own chair, because we didn't own any.

My mother and paternal grandmother had no such pride issues and I live in eternal gratitude that my welfare childhood was not as crappy as it should have been because my grandmother would have my mom accompany her on grocery runs and buy us food without my father or grandfather knowing, and every Christmas and birthday my grandparents/godparents could give us the one big ticket gift all the kids wanted that year. But, on the other side, I once got stung by a bee inside my mouth because my brother threw a hairbrush through a cracked window at me and broke it and we couldn't afford to fix it for about two years and a hornet got in one day and rested himself in my coke can (my parents were the very American type that fed me coca-cola in baby bottles at age 8 when I was jealous of my younger siblings lol).

It is hard not to believe in "toxic masculinity" when two men warring over dumbass pride issues would rather their children/grandchildren go without food than suck it up and decide 'help' isn't the worst word in the English language, and you know you've only been saved by two women who came from totally different backgrounds and entirely disapproved of each other but reached out the hand to shake when it came down to toddlers getting the short end of the don't-bend-the-knee stick. It wasn't that either of the men were bad people, I loved them both and got along great with both, but on a societal level I feel they were socialized in a very fucked up way if that was the end result, as both claimed "male pride" in these instances [my dad took multiple thousands of dollars I'd saved from working during college from me during the 2008-2010 financial crisis and didn't tell me and that was the reason I was given for why I hadn't been informed/asked, because it would be too emotionally difficult for an adult man to ask a young woman. My graduation present was them repaying me 1/3 of the money they'd taken from me without asking because I'd like, trusted them when it had been in a joint account that was a holdover from when I was <18 and couldn't have my own bank account].

While in some ways my parents on the surface achieved the American dream of going from nothing to a bunch of money, the real factor in play was that my dad's father was the bank. My parents had no credit and couldn't get real loans. My dad worked construction and during the two major periods that flipping houses was very lucrative, he never had to get an actual loan or pay actual interest, he just had to ask his father to pay out cash and then repay him at a flat 2% interest rate that didn't even accrue over time, just...whenever you are ready, repay the value of the loan + 2%. Because my father was doing something productive, in these instances, my grandfather was happy to pay, because it wasn't giving away money, it was loaning it. I had a very weird situation of mostly being poor but like also getting taken to the "big donors" events at the Kennedy Center and my grandparents regularly buying me a dress as a child worth more than my mom's wedding dress and also needing to pretend I fit in with these people.

And look. When I say "these people"...honestly, by and large, most wealthy people, whether inherited or not, are not the assholes you want to imagine. Most of them are extremely nice. Most of them are generous when it comes to the less fortunate who are in their personal sphere of being. Most of them are just really out of touch. The 100% kindest of all of them that I know once relayed to me that she thought people would be happier if once a year they did what she did...go to the airport with a purse packed full of absolute necessities, buy a one way ticket to the most appealing destination on the flight board, buy your clothes and book your accommodations after you'd arrived, and come back after you felt you'd 'centered' yourself. She didn't understand why there were so many unhappy people who weren't taking this very obvious route to being happier. I didn't quite know how to explain that saying "most" people couldn't afford to do that either financially or from a job/career angle didn't even cover it, as "most" sounds like 70% instead of 99.7%.

I was both my parents eldest son and eldest daughter in the worst combination possible. I was the eldest son because I was the most stereotypically male of all my siblings, in everything from desire to physically fight the battles I was given to dislike of shopping/fashion to lack of emotional connection to my relationships, so I can now fix your average household plumbing/drywall/electrical issue better than most "city" guys I interact with and remain less clingy to them in the process. I was also very much the oldest daughter from a responsibility perspective, I managed our household and from age 10 - 24 managed the finances of our family business, my mom almost died giving birth to my youngest brother after a ruptured uterus that should never have happened in the first place if we had adequate insurance to get her a non-emergency C-section (I was just past 9 years old at the time) and I was informally withdrawn from school for two years to take care of the family when she couldn't because there is no paid parental leave in the US and we got double-fucked by the medical industry because she got a bad "mesh" put in and then had to have a further surgery to repair that which we also had to pay for and didn't have the money to win a lawsuit over.

I don't know quite how to put this, but in the deepest fuck you of the universe, my rich-immigrant-ggggg grandfather's money led to him owning banks, insurance companies, etc, and the family cashed out in a big way when their ownership was bought by and merged with what is now Cigna, one of the biggest US healthcare insurers, and my nuclear family specifically got screwed by the American health insurance industry, but anyway, we were the people selected for that karmic comeuppance so if you want to feel schadenfreude at my expense, I'll allow it without begrudging the sentiment, my family might have fucked up your family’s life too, not just their own.

I got up twice a night to feed my brother because my dad had to sleep unmolested in my room to get to work and my mom was too weak to carry my brother or even hold him against her while she nursed so I had to hold him up to her. Adjusting to living in a city and hearing lots of random noises all the time was not easy when I'd had mom sound instincts from age 9.

I learned to drive the fall my youngest bro was born because my mom couldn't and I had to get my middle brother to preschool and go the grocery store on my own. While I hold absolutely no ill will towards my father or grandfather for this and given that about 1/3 of my paternal family either has an autism diagnosis or should, I fully feel the struggles they both went through to be communicated with, my father wouldn't ask for help, and my grandmother that lived 20 minutes away couldn't give enough help because my grandfather refused to do a single dish on his own as that was outside their "marriage contract" type agreement and she couldn't ever stay with us overnight when there wasn't a clearly-communicated need, so they let the burden fall on a 9 - 11 year old child and that really shaped a lot of my life in both good and bad ways. My youngest brother is 22, and we have only just climbed out of the medical debt his birth left us with between my dad's life insurance and my oldest brother and I paying for the extra cost of out-of-state college tuition.

The irony of all of this is that because my father died before his father, when my grandmother dies, my siblings and I will all inherit enough money (as a non-blood relative my mom, despite keeping her vows to part at death and not having remarried in eight years, is cut out entirely) to make this a non-issue, but my grandfather couldn't conscience spotting his unluckiest child some money in the end of days to pay for my youngest two brothers' education and take that worry off my father as he was dying. The day before he died I had to hold him down in bed to keep him from trying to climb in his truck to go to work because he was so anxious about trying to provide for us in spite of his father having fuck you money, because his father didn't think it was fair to the other siblings (who, at the time, still owned a major hedge fund and were married to a C-level executive of a huge conglomerate). A day and a half later I went back to my job because at the time I was then the sole provider for the family and didn't want to risk asking for the standard week's bereavement leave when I knew I was capable of showing up at work the next day and was fresh out of college so hadn't built up a reputation yet.

My father worked the day each of us was born, so I suppose it is only fair and he smiled at the choice. In spite of what it may seem, I gave a baller and very heartfelt speech at his funeral to all his rich friends that over and above everything, he'd taught us how to be happy with our own lives no matter what, and multiple of them emailed my mom in the aftermath to say they'd reassessed their relationship with their children in light of it, although...tbh I kind of doubt that lasted and they probably changed nothing 😅. The last good talk I had with him, two weeks before he died [his liver was going and it sent toxins to his brain that de-personed him after that and he no longer recognized me as his daughter, but as his sister], I reassured him that though we would all be sad he'd gone, we'd live on just fine without him because that's how he'd raised us, and according to my mom that was what gave him the final bit of peace he needed. Although honestly, I don't think I will ever see the strength in another human again that it took my grandmother to sit next to him and stroke his hand and tell him to close his eyes and imagine he was happy on a beach and die, for God's sake, because he was unaware and in pain and just prolonging it for our sake by then.

That type of obsession my grandfather had with assessing his children and grandchildren on the basis of economic productivity and a very black and white idea of "fair" is one you don't easily forget, I promise you. My hedge fund uncle is currently positioning himself to screw us out of our inheritance because of janky writing in the will and I'm doing my fuck all best to gain the wherewithal to go toe-to-toe with this cold motherfucker in court as the oldest and representative member of my happily much nicer and softer younger brothers who I want to remain that way not because I even care that much about the money, I know what bills affect your credit first and what you can put off paying and all of us have good enough career prospects to do our own thing, but just because I want to give the middle finger to a man that was a multi-millionaire and drew lines on his milk and orange juice bottles when I came over so he knew if I drank what my parents couldn't afford when I was approximately six. Anyway, ask me why I support major reforms in wealth taxation. I don't care who it goes to, just not that guy, you feel?

Having expendable income was very exciting for a bit after I started working but once I got to the hateable point of assessing my annual bonus and internally complaining that I'd spent the money I should have spent on a Sauternes cellar to drop five digits on bedset materials (to be fair they are drop dead gorgeous, very comfy and the factory pays a living wage for people to handmake the sheets/duvets/pillows to people in San Francisco, which is not cheap, so maybe I did more good than harm with that), I two seconds later nodded to myself and went "the government needs to confiscate more money from me". The narrative is always that the "undeserving" will use it for dumb things they don't need like iPhones or refrigerators...?...but like...I could also have gone to Bed Bath and Beyond and bought a very nice sheet/comforter set for at most a tenth of what I paid so am I really spending it responsibly either....?....who is going to get more joy out of this misspent money....?....not me, that is for sure, I probably would have had more fun going to BBB and laying on all the demo beds and buying something there.

My lifelong dream, which may become possible if/when I do have something of an inheritance, is to provide food security for one of the many towns in the US were most residents don't have it. It's the thing I remember the most distinctly over the years. I never could quite believe it when I got to the point that I could just...pay to eat at a restaurant. One of the most disappointed my mother has ever been in me is when I was twenty five and confessed I actually had no idea how much a gallon of milk cost in a city grocery store besides that it was probably between $1 and $5, because I didn't have to know. For now I make a weekly drop off of my excess produce to a mom group I met under somewhat weird circumstances but I was walking through the cut-through that went through the low-income housing back to my apartment at like 2 AM on a Saturday and these moms were out there partying and smoking weed with their kids all strapped in strollers around or the older ones watched by a rotating member of the group and I felt very safe and like these moms had a very good vibe of both living their own lives [seriously for mental health parents but in most cases specifically mothers need to be able to keep up relationships with people their age] but keeping their children safe and accounted for while doing so and trying their fuckin' best against all the odds to figure out how to make that happen when life had dealt them a shit hand.

...anyway, looping way back to the original question of what finishing school is, when I was almost done with middle school my dad had built a legit construction business that then very quickly took off because we lived in a commutable zip code to the now-rich-in-their-own-right people he went to high school with who trusted him to redo their homes. We eventually moved to that zip code but I stayed and commuted back to my old high school. But, i was a pretty wild kid which my father appreciated for a long while because I would follow him around on jobs and enjoy doing physical labor, but once I was mid-puberty and also he had to maybe show me to his high school friends that did not fly.

I snapped - not broke, snapped - my left thumb and my parents had to trap me like a wild animal to get me to go the hospital. Then I got a deep cut that partially injured a tendon in my leg and at eleven I tried to beat the shit out of my dad to prevent him from picking me up to strap me in the car and go to the hopsital. Next I got a deep splinter due to my eternal-barefoot tendencies and it wouldn't come out so got infected and I refused to go to the doctor [another weird back story but I was minorly sexually assaulted [[to be clear, not raped or anything big traumatic]] when I was eight and had to stay in hospital for a week and my parents couldn't be with me all the time so I have a permanent heebie-jeebie about going to the hospital, not true anxiety, I will go if I know I need to and I don't breathe heavy or anything, and I'm actually not permanently weirded out by sex or anything, just doctors in hospitals specifically I kind of unconsciously try to justify not needing to the extent I can rationalize it] and my dad was tired of my antics so he was like "fine if you don't go I will slice your foot in half with a Swiss Army knife to get it out" and I called his bluff and laid down on the floor, stuck my foot on his lap, and he didn't really know what to do when a barely fourteen year old girl called his bluff so my brothers watched in fascinated but horrified awe as I got my foot sliced open spectacularly so that the infection/splinter could come out and I didn't even make a sound out of spite despite it being quite painful to my recollection almost twenty years later.

They saw me cry from pain exactly one time when while trying to break up a fight between all three of them (it was over ice cream) I got pushed and my ankle got dislocated and what actually made me cry was snapping it back in place and they realized it was not a joke. These dumb assholes that I love have ragged on me for "skipping" chores the day after I was in the hospital because the day before that I had to spend 18 hours running Thanksgiving as a good sub-hostess like I didn't have a serious infection that needed treating and couldn't rest because none of them were up to any task beyond peeling potatoes.

After the Swiss Army knife incident, my dad's discussion of sending me to finishing school became real, which I knew when my mom made me take a walk with her and talked about it. Finishing school is like...etiquette school....? In ye olden day when finishing high school was not the norm for anyone, wealthy men finished high school and wealthy women often went to "finishing" school to have a combined education on being a proper lady but also being able to hold a decent conversation with your presumably-educated husband, so it wasn't entirely etiquette non-academic. It was more just like "what a rich man wants in a wife" school, which was sort of household management and knowing enough about cleaning/cooking to correct the staff if they fucked up, how to be a polite hostess, and how to not entirely bore him when you were alone together and had done your five minutes of sex or whatever so actually had to have a conversation. In modern times it has obviously expanded to be less bleak.

I said miss me with that, I can be a girl on my own, so I went full throttle into the girliest sport they offer in high school and ever since have gained the inestimable advantage of knowing how to also use femininity to my advantage, which I am very grateful to my parents for making me learn. It would be great if we lived in a world where that didn't count, but it did/still does, and they really set me up to operate in all the worlds.

It is weird for me to tell the story to Internet strangers because it's one of those things that makes your parents sound terrible and abusive in the general tone of the Internet nowadays, and while I support gender nonconforming children I don't remember my childhood or parents that way. But, I feel like the bits and pieces of my life I've given don't always make a ton of sense together without the context, so here it is, and in the end, I think a number of parts of it are areas where you can probably understand where it makes me have the opinions I do when I write.

Anyhoo, this makes my life sound far worse than it is, I actually have a great life and I am not unhappy with it at all and feel I was on the whole blessed with many more turns of luck than unluck, so, please, do not take this as a depressed artist rant, it is more like a rant of a very energetic person who rants about a lot of things all the time and didn’t need to come out but just did because the question was asked and the time was right with my life being in a bit of flux to think about how I got where I am and where I want to go and why.

Always remember no matter what problems it seems like I have, if I didn’t solve them on my 2 year round the world traveling hiatus I took from working, it’s my own fault, I definitely had the time and money to solve them and just chose not to.

[konglindorm]

Lindworm Promo Series Repost: Cite Your Sources

*This is a repost from 9/17/17*

I first read Prince Lindworm in a collection of Scandinavian fairy tales illustrated by Kay Nielsen, who, by the way, is awesome. The problem here is that it was a later edition of the book. At some point, I don’t remember why, I got super into finding out the history of Prince Lindworm. See, it was in this book, which was supposed to be stories from Asbjornsen and Moe. Those are the big Norwegian fairy tale dudes, for those of you who don’t know.

But I’m a little obsessive about my fairy tales. You may have noticed. And this book wasn’t even mine. It belonged to my grandparents. So of course I had my own Asbjornsen and Moe anthology. Or two. Maybe three. And I kind of kept buying these books because I wanted my own copy of this one wacky story. But it wasn’t there. So I googled the complete works of Asbjornsen and Moe. It wasn’t there.

I took advantage of my university’s interlibrary loan system to request every single book in the country that mentioned lindworms. Or lindorms. Or lindwyrms, or a variety of other spellings.

Have I mentioned that I’m a little obsessive about my fairy tales?

Several other books and authors and random people on the internet attributed the story to Asbjornsen and Moe. Who definitely didn’t record it. The reason for this, as far as I can tell? This book my grandparents had, really nice hardcover, fancy publisher, gorgeous illustrations—it was kind of a big deal. All sorts of people had read the story in this book, and only this book, and assumed the information provided was reliable.

And here’s where the publishers went wrong. There’s an editor’s note in the front. It explains that all but two of the stories in the volume are from one particular translation of the works of Asbjorsen and Moe. What they apparently neglected to mention is that one of those two stories was not only from a different translator, but a different source entirely.

So Prince Lindworm didn’t come from Norway. That’s settled. And, okay, I don’t know what to tell you about the one random outlier in my interlibrary loan adventure that said the story was from Sweden, but I’ve got this worked out.

Really, it could have been worse. When I wanted to read the earliest recorded version of Beauty and the Beast, and I couldn’t track down a translation anywhere, I spent months tearing the internet apart before I found a copy that was clearly printed well over one hundred years ago, given the spelling and lettering, in French, scanned in and saved as a pdf. I still have that saved on my computer somewhere. Given that I don’t know any French, dictionaries only provided modern spellings, and any given character could easily have been three to six different letters in that typeface, the several months I spent attempting to translate didn’t really get me anywhere. I don’t think I even translated the first paragraph successfully.

I did a little better with Prince Lindworm. It still took me a couple months to find the text, and it was still a crappy pdf with outdated spelling. Plus it was in Danish. But the lettering was slightly more modern, and I happen to be much better at slogging my way through Danish than French. A little bit of Norwegian, a little bit of Anglo-Saxon, a tiny bit of German. It’ll get you places. Sadly, my extensive background in Latin was utterly useless to French. (And Spanish. It seems my teachers lied to me. I strongly suspect Romani and Portuguese would also be a bust, but at least I can stumble blindly through basic Italian.)

It was, when I found it, three or four pages of a quite large collection. I haven’t gotten into the rest of it yet—soon, hopefully. Gamle dansk Minder i folkemunde, it’s called.  I’m good at general ideas in Germanic languages, not so much actual translations, so bear with me here, but I’m going to tentatively call this “Old Danish Memories from the Mouths of the People.” Sounds better in Danish, right? This is why I keep my translations to myself.

The compiler of this book is listed as Svend Grundtvig, and he’s generally known for collecting Danish folk songs, but as far as I can tell, in my admittedly spotty Danish comprehension, there’s no music for this one.

And, okay, I know I talk a lot about how stories, especially folk stories, don’t belong to anyone, because they’re so mutable, because a story is really a community, a conversation. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know where the conversation started.

For crying out loud, people, cite your sources! I dedicated months of my life to this. Do you have any idea how many utterly worthless books I had to read in search of some tiny hint of origins? How many incorrect attributions I had to read? How much respect I lost for researchers in this field in general?

Look, sometimes tracking down crap pdfs of source material can be fun, okay? I love pulling random linguistic data from obscure folklore and stuff like that. But really. Really. How hard can it possibly be to say, “hey, this historically and culturally significant story that I’m making a profit on because it’s been in the public domain for a hundred years originally came from Denmark”?

There is no excuse not to give fairy tales the correct attribution. Like, anthology and picture book based fairy tales have got to be the easiest writing to make a profit on.  The story has been marinating in your brain forever, right? Do you even remember a time before you knew Cinderella? Just tell it in your own words, and someone else will come along and slap some beautiful illustrations on, and you’re good to go. It costs five minutes and zero dollars to add in a little note saying, “This adaptation was inspired by the French version of the story as recorded by Charles Perrault.”

But no, that’s too much work for you. Instead you’ll just go and publish a wildly popular book that heavily implies incorrect information, and let it spin wildly out of control until poor innocent college kids are staying up all night on the internet reading languages they don’t understand and enlisting the help of just about every library in the continental United States.

Ugh.

Anyway, Grundtvig is a really awesome dude who absolutely knows how to cite his stories. Kong Lindorm was told in 1854 by Maren Mathisdatter, age 67, in Fureby. It was recorded by Adjunct A. Levisen.

See? Was that so hard?

[worldcakecakecake]

On Deutschland and Italia by Lovio Valenti

Lovino writes a series of blog entries on the relationship between Germany and Italy as he deals with a move to Hamburg, his brother’s wedding, and his budding romance (which he denies) to the infuriating Gilbert Beilschmidt.

                                                     Chapter 4

On Deutschland and Italia.

Division and Unity.

It’s Happening.

 I believe that in no other two European countries are you going to see such division in its country itself.

 We like to divide Italy as north and south, while Germany in west and east. It’s the kind of thing that helps create a crisis of national identity to the people, and we continue to feed it with media, accents, clothes and even foreign stereotypes, and no such ending can be expected soon. Yet, Germany and Italy supported the idea of a European Union even before other countries thought about it. You can find writings about it in Nietzsche and Mazzini’s work. Germany and Italy luckily got to see it happen and it was rather fruitful for both countries during a certain number of decades. After the harshness of unification, the passage of monarchy to republic, two world wars and the heavy presence of communism, Germany and Italy could focus on flourishing their economies and once again found themselves being a very important part of Europe.

 But even so, were dealing with two completely different countries here.

 The obvious first thing is the language, different views of politics, economics, culture, and of course, memes.

 Germany and Italy are the opposite on a girded scale, yet despite what I’ve written in my past entries and what it seems, Germany and Italy don’t actually have a rivalry and there’s no competition…well…in a political sense.

 In my next blog entries, I will be speaking more about this, but some of you had questioned about my brother’s soon wedding and want to hear more about it and my growing opinion.

 I still completely disapprove of it, but, my brother is expecting my help and since I am a good brother, I do intend to be a part of it…even if it involves having to meet with stingy face Gilbert here.

 We are constantly being told to stand each other for the sake of our brothers, but I’m thinking they’re only doing it to annoy us…or they actually want us to get along so this can go as smoothly as they want.

 I am not going to make it easy for anyone.

  “I’m going to touch… this salami.”

 “No!” Feliciano saved the plate, moving it in such theatrics from the counter.

 “Let me! Maybe it can poison him!”

 “Lovino! You’re not going to try and kill Gilbert with my food!”

 “Our food! I was the one that brought and boiled that spaghetti you really like.”

 Feliciano came to a realization, going to check the readied pasta.

 “I’m joking! I didn’t poison anything,” he found himself having to clear.

 Feliciano still tasted some of the readied noodles…adding a bit of the sauce…taking from the bread.

 “Don’t eat it all before they even get here!” Lovino scolded.

 “Just checking! It’s all delicious,” Feliciano signed as he cleaned whatever drops had fallen in the meantime.

 It was just as the familiar knock came, getting Feliciano to shriek, to rid of his apron and fix himself as quick as possible. He practically tripped as he made his way to get the door.

 “Careful!” Lovino scolded, not minding in taking his own taste from the sauce.

 “Lieben.”

 “Amore.”

 The two greeted to each other as disgusting as ever, with a deep kiss and a wrap of their arms around one another that left the brothers in the back silent and awkward.

 “Gee, Feli, thanks for inviting me in,” Gilbert interrupted, getting a groan from Ludwig but a smile from Feliciano.

 “Come on in, both of you.”

 Ludwig followed Feliciano to place a beautifully wrapped plate of colored meringue cookies in the table, both going on excited with conversation of how it was made, in each other, leaving Gilbert standing awkwardly still near the door, with nowhere else to lay his eyes but on Lovino, mixing the sauce to keep his eyes focused on something and not glare daggers at the older Beilschmidt in the room.

 “What ya’ making?” He dared ask.

 “Go sit down on the couch and don’t ask me questions,” Lovino commanded and Gilbert shrugged, not knowing what to expect, but followed his order and took seating, beginning to look through his phone in the meantime.

 The four of them enjoyed from dinner together, the ones mostly conversing being Ludwig and Feliciano, a comment here and there from Gilbert and Lovino, always a small temptation calling to fight over the smallest thing, but luckily Ludwig and Feliciano would stop it before it could escalate and heat the table in anger and hatred.

 Ludwig unwrapped the meringue cookies and they all dug in, Feliciano bringing in a hard-covered notebook, along with a folder full of financial information of both him and Ludwig.

 “So,” Feliciano clapped his hands to begin.

 “We’ve been researching, finding out everything we need to know about planning a wedding, and many sources suggest, before anything, to establish a budget,” Ludwig explained.

 “And why do you need us for that?” Gilbert wondered.

 “Control.”

 “To make sure we’re not exaggerating and that were not choosing a very low number either,” Feliciano continued.

 “We don’t want anything too lavish. We want simplicity, small, something for just us and our closest friends and family to attend.”

 “But beautiful, special and to remember,” Feliciano wanted to add.

 “Both your jobs, as we have chosen you each to be our best men, is to make sure we don’t exceed the amount we’re going to decide now.”

 Both the elder brothers shrugged, not seeing it such a difficult job.

 Feliciano opened the books and numbers, something that Ludwig was immensely proud about him doing, wrapping an arm around his waist to let him know, Feliciano smiling up at him.

 The elder brothers wanted to barf.

 “So…this is the amount we’re willing to use,” Feliciano pointed, professionally with a pen.

 “2,000 euros only?” Lovino raised an eye.

 “Yeah…is it still too much,” Feliciano worried.

 “No, that’s too little!”

 “I…actually have to agree with him here. I doubt they’ll be much you can do,” Gilbert said, earning Lovino another raise, not expecting that at all.

 “What number would you better recommend?” Ludwig leaned to them.

 “4,000!” At Lovino’s loud acclaim, a sudden idea began to settle in Gilbert’s mind, one that made him oddly smile for the moment, but he decided to push it and see.

 “6,000!” He suddenly shouted with Lovino, the younger brothers looking between the two in deep question.

 “That’s…uh…” Feliciano wanted to say.

 “Still too little, you’re right! How about 8,000 instead!”

 “No, no, 10,000!”

 “Hm…10,000 sounds about right,” Lovino had to agree with Gilbert.

 The younger couple was still too startled from the numbers to actually pay attention to how their brothers actually agreed and worked together to arrive at that final count.

 “10,000 euros?” Feliciano wanted to faint.

 “Yeah, it should be enough,” Gilbert shrugged it like it was no big issue.

 “That’s…too much.” Ludwig had written it down as a choice, looking at it as if it was a hideous monster to fear.

 “Trust me, people usually use more than that on a ‘simple’ wedding,” Lovino pointed.

 “There is no such thing as a beautiful and perfect wedding that was done cheap.”

 “But it…shouldn’t matter…we just want to get married. Everything else is just…making it more special,” Feliciano added shyly.

 “Yes or no, do you want it to be special?” Lovino went to the point.

 “Yes.”

 “Then you have to pay more than what you two were expecting.”

 The two gazed between one another with that deep question if to agree.

 “Should we…risk it?” Ludwig asked.

 “It’s your wedding!” Gilbert shouted.

 “You’re not going to get married and have a day like that again. So, I suggest you go full at it and enjoy it as you should be,” Lovino found himself backing Gilbert.

 It was working, the couple slowly coming to its agree.

 “But…we don’t want to go bankrupt either,” Feliciano brought sense again.

 “You two will have pretty good jobs. I’m sure the money will come to you easily. I think you should be thinking about what an amazing outcome it will be more than anything,” Gilbert continued and with those words, the two smiled between one another and decided on the 10,000-euro limit, writing and circling it in decision.

 Gilbert and Lovino smirked, evil intentions hidden underneath it.

 As the night went on, Ludwig and Feliciano made sure that they had the 10,000 euros available, working with checking their savings and loans, signing and calling, while Gilbert and Lovino settled on the couch, way apart from each other, looking at some random movie Lovino had chosen from Netflix.  

 “You should have put footloose,” Gilbert complained.

 “Fuck you.” Lovino raised the volume of Annie.

 “Come on, now you should help us with the guest list,” Ludwig called.

 “Already?”

 “Isn’t that for later?”

 “Knowing the amount of people who are coming will help us decide the size of the venue, of food, seats. Just come on,” Ludwig told, helping Feliciano in writing down the obvious of their grandparents, parents, brothers, close uncles, aunts and cousins.

 “Should we invite Laura?” Feliciano wondered happily, while Ludwig flinched.

 “You want to invite Ludwig’s ex to your wedding?” Gilbert laughed.

 “But she’s super nice to us! And she’s always bringing us waffles and I love baking with her. She’s also a really good friend of Lovino’s.”

 Lovino smiled, expecting of her company on such a dreaded party.

 “Are you sure it won’t start drama?”

 “Highly doubt so.”

 “What happened is in it the past,” Ludwig wanted to remind.

 “All right, go ahead!” It had Gilbert wondering of any other person in their lives who was bound to create disaster.

 “Okay, so, Carlos.”

 “Mhm!”

 “What about Martin?” Lovino smirked.

 “Oh yes! Let’s invite Martin!” Feliciano excited, in ways that made Ludwig ignite in fury and vengeance.

 “No!” Ludwig practically shouted.

 It brought sudden startling silence in the room.

 “Why? What’s wrong with Martin?” Feliciano wondered innocently.

 “Everything, absolutely everything! I don’t want him near the ceremony and party!” Ludwig was decided, even if he looked like a pouting child, Lovino and Gilbert having to hold themselves from laughing.

 “But…he’s a really good friend of mine. He’s super nice and buys me very nice things…like that golden bracelet with the really pretty heart in it.” Feliciano indeed thought it any other innocent gift, while Ludwig burned, Gilbert and Lovino having to hold their own laughs by getting pillows to muddle their possible sounds.

 “Please…don’t tell me you haven’t noticed it at all…” Ludwig worried.

 “Noticed what?”

 Ludwig didn’t know whether to give a breath of relief…or worry on how Martin could take advantage of Feliciano’s occasional naïve self.

 “You know what, I’m decided, he’s not coming,” he decreed.

 “Well I’m deciding that he is coming!” Feliciano denied in turn.

 The glare, the fury that sparked between them, had Gilbert and Lovino actually sharing impressed expressions, both eyes and mouths widened, ready for the big show that was sure to take place. Feliciano, in a show of disobedience, took the list and wrote the dreadful name, making it sure now. Ludwig huffed, a large intake of breath that many thought the release would make winds blow across all the apartment, but what came out was simple, given up…as the usual to make his lover happy. He let it be, not questioning, but he was visibly angry, not bothering to even speak and add to the list of visitors that Feliciano, Gilbert and Lovino continued to do by themselves.

 Gilbert added annoying family members, unwanted friends or relatives that they had long forgotten about, and Ludwig didn’t add a word. Lovino in turn added his own horrible suggestions, Feliciano too kind to deny. By the end of it, they had more than a hundred guests.

 “Are you sure…this is okay?” Feliciano for once questioned, facing the number and having second thoughts.

 “The more, the better!” Lovino assured.

 “You want everyone to celebrate, don’t you?” Gilbert suggested.

 “Yeah…but…”

 Lovino placed a finger against Feliciano’s mouth. “Don’t think about it!”

 “Think about the party!” Gilbert excited, raising himself and already celebrating as if it was to take place that very moment.

 “Uh…okay.” Although clearly unsure, Ludwig was stuck in his inner anger to really answer, just shrugging and so Feliciano sighed, forcing himself to accept.

 “Is that all you need us for then?” Lovino questioned, already beginning to get his things.

 “Yeah, I guess,” for once Ludwig answered.

 “Awesome! I’ll be getting my ass elsewhere too.” Gilbert joined Lovino in his own stuff picking, both cleaning the apartment of themselves on the way, running off as if they were escaping from something heinous.

 They left the apartment in awkward silence.

 Heading down the stairs was like a charge, and when they both headed out into the air, it exploded in loud laughs, echoing surely in the street and perhaps even their brothers could hear in their own flat.

 “I gotta give it to you! I gotta give to you!” Gilbert shouted, pointing and clapping.

 “You played along good!” Lovino shouted in turn.

 They both released, twisting in the area as they let it all die down, in a calm to match the night despite being in such a city. Then came a realization, one that hit them with the passing alarms of an ambulance making its way pass them.

 They actually…laughed and agreed on something…together…it was…horrendous.

 As if erasing its passing, as a try to ignore it, they stood straight, looked away, walking to their respective directions and not even wishing a single goodbye.

  On Deutschland and Italia.

Tensions.

 It is ongoing, and even traditional, that Germany and Italy continue to settle meet ups for events, institutions, activities and diplomatic visits. As I mentioned in my first entry, Germany and Italy’s relationship has ancient roots and our government and people try to keep it alive as I’m sure the Romans and Germanics would have wanted. The biggest Italian cultural institute is in Germany, while its counterpart, the Goethe institute has its own achievements in Italy. Politicians though, still think the relationship has its tensions and that it’s even declining.

 Germany and Italy, to my disgust, have a relationship like that of an old married couple, no problems but lacking the love and passion one would expect from a country like Italy. What needs to be rekindled is that desire, that want to try and improve relations so they can be yet another stronghold of Europe.

 For my brother and his fiancé, on the other hand, I would rather that they wouldn’t try to find such ailments to their problem.

 In a sudden, rare…and even disgusting, work of companionship, Gilbert and I managed to find that downfall to create that tension and oh we will celebrate and try to make it last for what is needed.

  “To be honest, I doubt you’ll get it,” Lovino told his brother as they reached the steps of the symbol church of the city, tall, charming, but not well placed or the majesty of the ones in Italy. In Lovino’s opinion. Sadly, Ludwig and Feliciano had decided that they will marry in Hamburg and the St. Michaelis church seemed the most appealing to do so in for now.

 “It doesn’t hurt to try.” Feliciano was too confident, a wide smile and jumping steps as they entered.

 “You’re too sensitive, anything hurts you,” Lovino had to remind, any other words halted in the wonder that fell on his eyes as he took the interior, beautiful despite its simplicity. Feliciano joined him in that contemplating as well, taking a small tour to gaze out further golden details and architectural forms, silent, the few who were there but tourists or perhaps devoted followers sitting in the banks.

 “Are you sure you want to go through with the embarrassment though?” Lovino asked in his most silent whisper, pulling Feliciano to his side, keeping his hand on his arm. They were now turning back, nearing the office and for once, Feliciano held question in his expression, a slight slowing in his steps. But this was his wedding, this was his union to Ludwig, and he was determined to do whatever to make it the dream they had wanted.

 “It won’t hurt to try,” Feliciano repeated.

 “This is a protestant church,” Lovino reminded again.

 “Why would it matter? As long as were united spiritually, the religion is of no importance to me.”

 “I don’t know how nonno and mamma will feel about that,” Lovino warned.

 “Can’t you help me by saying more positive things,” Feliciano exasperated, his hand having found reach of the door.

 “You’re marrying Ludwig Beilschmidt. It’s really hard to find positives.”

 Feliciano rolled his eyes and groaned, entering and ready to begin the process.

  Ludwig liked the fresh air here, the comfort, relaxing, quiet, a wonderful view to a lake and the city in the distance.

 “Wow…this place is actually pretty cool,” Gilbert admitted, spotting the couches in the terrace and taking instant sitting, letting out a deep sigh and pooling himself down in its comfort. “Definitely chose this one,” Gilbert seemed decided for Ludwig.

 “It is really nice…I just…to be honest, would have preferred to celebrate at Antico.”

 “At the restaurant?” Gilbert couldn’t believe, raising an eye as if with insult.

 “Originally, it was supposed to be a small get together. Antico had just the right size. It’s familiar, meaningful, beautiful, and I know the Valenti would offer us the best service and food.”

 “But we’ve already been there so many times! I think I had five birthdays there!” Gilbert groaned loudly, letting his head hang from the back of his chair.

 “Exactly, it’s special.”

 “Don’t you think kind of dull?”

 “Of course not.”

 “Do you really want to remember celebrating your wedding there?”

 “I really would not mind. Usually when I dream of a wedding, it’s always dancing with Feliciano in the restaurant.”

 “Oh god, that was sappiness I wasn’t expecting from you.” Gilbert had to sit up.

 “Yes! It just proves my point that we should go with the restaurant.”

 “No. None of the people we invited would fit there,” he had to remind, much to Ludwig’s distaste, grimacing at all the hated, uncaring, dull and criticizing guests they had recently added to the list. It didn’t make him as excited as he would have been. His thoughts went back to Feliciano, to how shinning, beautiful and happy he would surely be that day no matter, and it would be enough to get him to the task at hand.

 “Plus, it would just be too much for them. It wouldn’t look fancy enough and maybe people will even forget they’re at a wedding reception,” Gilbert tried to find as many excuses as he could.

 Ludwig sighed, “fine, I guess this is good. It’s better than some of the other places we’ve seen.” Despite everything, indeed it was beautiful, with space and profession.

 “Great! Want me to call them so we can get to booking?” Before Ludwig kept thinking and changing his mind.

  Feliciano rummaged the calendar, making all kinds of notes having to do with business, their coming move to Santo Domingo, how the season will react, keeping in mind length of preparations and just a time that can be comfortable. He was surprisingly silent, Ludwig sitting beside him, focused on his coffee and going over his last bank statements, trying to hide the grimaces of the toll his accounts will take with the new budget they had settled.

 “Do we really need to use that much?” Ludwig had to say, had to try and fight it.

 “I believe it’s what it’s normally used on a wedding,” Feliciano thought. If he minded, it was not shown to Ludwig.

 “Are they really supposed to be that expensive?”

 “I think so,” Feliciano sighed in disappointment.

 Ludwig neared, letting one arm wrap around, pulling him closer. “If it’s for you…then I really shouldn’t mind the amount.”

 “I think the same. I mean, Gilbert and Lovino were right, this is a day we want to remember, and we have to make it as special as we can, no matter what it costs,” it seemed like Feliciano was still trying to convince himself.

 Ludwig nodded and sighed, pushing himself more to having to accept, putting his phone away, keeping his mind from his accounts. To be near Feliciano, having him, got his mind in beautiful clouds and colors.

 “It’s rare that they agree on and actually work together to get us to do something,” Ludwig noticed.

 Feliciano laughed, beautifully shaking in his arms. “You’re right! We really do have to take their advice then,” Feliciano smiled in true happiness, one that rubbed off on Ludwig.

 “Perhaps this wedding planning could serve good for the both of them.”

 “Yes, it’ll get them to get along! They’ll be able to talk to each other and we won’t have to worry about them fighting so much!”

 “They could maybe even become friends.”

 Feliciano gasped at a sudden idea, “or lovers!”

 And Ludwig hurled in laughter, in a rare show of red and falling breathless. “Don’t get too carried away there.” He needed a moment to relax and breathe again. "For me it's enough that they can at least agree on something.”

 “But wouldn’t it be beautiful if they could get together too,” Feliciano dreamed.

 “It’ll be too weird really.”

 “No! It won’t be! Nothing is weird about love when it’s made right!”

 “I doubt they’ll love each other…that way.”

 “Well, who knows,” Feliciano shrugged, leaning more into Ludwig’s chest, quite a blush and smile on his face that made Ludwig feel more fortunate of having him. “Maybe the old Beilschmidt-Valenti magic can work on them like it did on us.”

 Ludwig hummed, “it’s quite a funny thing to put to mind.”

 “They’ll still be really sweet together, I know it!”

 Ludwig let him dream that idea as he let his hand traverse his hair, still not finding sense or chances of it actually occurring. “Don’t try to do anything.”

 “I won’t.” That’s when Feliciano focused his attention on a singular date, perfect between all, in spring, with space, sure and he knew many would be able to come. “April 27?”

 Ludwig took his own gaze at the calendar, smiling and agreeing along with him. “April 27.”

 They had a wedding date.

< chapter 3                                                                                                                          chapter 5 >

[kakosindustries]

The Live Episode from February 10th, 2019 in Phoenix, Arizona. CW: References to Euthanasia/Suicide.

[[Kakos Bells]]

Intro: What you are about to hear is positive, honest, and uplifting entertainment.

[[Guitar Intro]]

Greetings. Welcome. Take your seats. Feel free to get a drink at any time because you’re going to need it. It’s really best that you stay lubricated for this.

Just so you know, we are now recording this show so that we may better market to you in the future and exploit your every weakness, so if you don’t want what you have to say to go on the Internet, then please keep your mouth shut. Laughter is fine. Screams of terror are fine. Coughing and sneezing are frowned upon. Talking to your buddy about something totally unrelated is a capital crime.

I have just received word that the outside world as we knew it ended moments ago. It is chaos, carnage, death, and destruction out there. The fortunate news is that we are all still alive. That will remain fortunate news right up until we have to start eating each other. In that case, then the people who died instantly above will be the lucky ones.

Tip your bartenders well because money is meaningless now. Everything from here on out is social currency and sexual favors.

My name is Corin Deeth III. I am CEO of Kakos Industries, the sponsor of tonight’s event. You see, even though the world as we know it has ended, Kakos Industries, the company that specializes in helping its clients to Do Evil Better, will continue on. We will continue to do Evil and to advance Evil, and to help everyone everywhere, at least everyone who’s left, to do Evil. Kakos Industries has its innumerable tendrils in everything. From technological advancements, to new techniques for economic exploitation, to the feeling you have when you’re fucking someone you like, but they like like you and you’re really not sure you can keep fucking them with the constant guilt of obviously caring less. We help the world to do Evil. Additionally, if you were going to ghost your date after tonight… whoops.

And that’s where you come in, guests. You see, we need you. Now that the vast majority of humanity is either exterminated or in the process of being exterminated, we need you. Without humanity, there can be no Evil. Nature sets itself apart from humanity in its total and complete neutrality. With humanity, good and Evil can exist. So we need some of you miserable bastards to stick around to stay miserable. It’s really an honor, if you think about it. And the price of admission? Just five dollars? Eight at the door? To be given the privilege of rebooting society? That’s pretty nice.

[[Heat Lightning]]

Quick FAQ:

What has caused the apocalypse? We do not know at this time. It currently seems as though it was a lot of things all at once. Or one thing many times. We’re looking into it and we will bring you details as we get them.

Who caused the apocalypse? Was it the guy we’re thinking of? No. It was us. We did it. We caused it. And as soon as we figure out how, we’ll brag about how we did it. No one has paid us to take blame. Not even with luxury apocalypse bunkers. We already have those. We did it. Just for fun. It was all us.

What does this mean for my loved ones? They are so fucking dead. So fucking dead. We hope that you brought the people you like the most here because everyone else is just fucking toast at this point. And if they’re not, then they are in danger of being crushed, impaled, dissolved, or eaten at this very moment, and I’m not an actuary, but they likely won’t survive long.

Can I leave to try to save my family and friends? No. We’ve locked the bunker, and we are all in here permanently. Take a look around you. Take in your surroundings. These are your new digs for the rest of your life. Take a look at the people in the room. These are your new best friends. These are your new enemies. These are the grandparents to your grandchildren. Assuming this apocalypse takes that long to work its way out. If there’s no radiation or renegade AI, we might be out of here in a year or two.

What about these people that keep filtering into the room? Aren’t they breaking the immersion? Well, those people have come here through the huge series of access tunnels that connect all basement spaces like this one. They escaped the apocalypse at the same time as you, but they just got here a little later. Nothing to worry about.

Was this whole thing planned? How did you know to bring us down here? Another thoughtful question. Yes. Probably. We’re still working out the details of exactly what we did, but I can assure you it was very intentional. Everything we do is very intentional. And well planned.

Is my student loan debt really gone? Can it be true? Have no fear. We will find a way to keep you in debtors’ hell forever.

Other important rules. You have to ride the electricity generating bike if you want a turn with the bluetooth speaker. Well that about covers it.

[[Unpointedness]]

Take a look under your seat. You will have a card under there outlining your new social class here in the apocalypse and your expectations. Some of us will have to work with our hands, others will work with our brains. Some will collect the muck slime, others will prepare the muck slime, but we will all eat the muck slime. Who’s a mage? Just kidding, that’s not a real class. Who is a soldier? You will need to do violence on our behalf, especially keeping the eventual tide of monsters at bay. We thank you in advance for your sacrifice. If I were you, I would tune out the rest of what I’m saying, and start eyeing up what you can use from around the room as a weapon.

The janitors will be responsible for cleaning all of the floors and rooms, and also the people who get so depressed that they can’t shower. Who is the scribe? Please begin writing down everything I say. In fact, if you could write down everything I’ve already said, that would be super.

After the show, we will have two of you fight for our entertainment. Please look at your new social class cards. Who’s a fighter? Oh, three of you? It’s thunderdome then.

Who is the golden child? You are now the luckiest, most talented, and most successful among us, and we will all love and resent you.

Who got bad joke recipient? You will now have to listen to all of the jokes that we as a subterranean society can come up with, and laugh at every single one of them. Even the bad ones. Even the ones that you personally disagree with.

Who is the werewolf? Just kidding. We’ll all close our eyes later for that part.

Also, there will be no elections. I am in charge. The end. Except for mine inspector. We will continue to elect mine inspector. It’s a critical position.

Now that we have the ground rules laid, it’s time to take part in the apocalypse pledge of allegiance. Hands over hearts. Repeat after me. We promise to Do Evil at all times, except when that Evil might mean the extinction of the species, without which Evil cannot continue. We hereby promise to walk that fine line and Do Evil Better. Amen, brother. Thank you for doing that. It is legally, as well as morally binding.

So how many of you were Shareholders in Kakos Industries before tonight? (some sort of response) Well, you are all shareholders now, which means that you can rest easily knowing that your contributions have helped to promote the spread of Evil everywhere in the world. Income inequality. Hunger. Political meddling of all kinds. And everyone’s favorite: Sex. Anyone planning on having sex today? (We’ve got some confident people in the audience today.) In the bunker. Wow. We haven’t even given you your room assignments yet.

[[Elusiveness]]

Before we get too far, we should probably check in on that apocalypse. Right now, we’ve got our field agent Titus Lachlan on the surface, risking life and limb so that we might be able to learn a bit more about the disaster on the surface.

Corin: Come in, Titus. Can you hear me?

Titus (ADAM): Yeah, Corin. I can hear you. I just found some cover.

Corin: What’s going on out there?

Titus: I am as of this time still uncertain. It’s quite dusty out and I am finding it difficult to see.

Corin: Dusty… everywhere?

Titus: Well, I stopped to have a beer under a tree, and it is very dusty right here in particular.

Corin: Well, can you move to another location to give us some useful details?

Titus: I would love to do that, Corin. Just as soon as I finish my bitter.

Corin: Titus, I don’t mean to dwell on the negative here, but you could die at any time. Isn’t there something useful you can tell us?

Titus: Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Corin. I am totally impervious to apocalypses. The worst thing that can happen to me is that I will be the only one left alive when this is all said and done, which, admittedly, is pretty bad now that I think of it.

Corin: How can you be impervious to apocalypses?

Titus: An experiment went wrong, and here I am.

Corin: But how could you know that you’re impervious? The only apocalypse to happen is the one that just happened.

Titus: The scientists used concentrated apocalypse beams in the lab and I withstood all of them. No matter if it’s the biblical end times or a sciencey one, I’ll be right as rain.

Corin: How much beer do you have left?

Titus: It’s a tall boy, Corin. I’ll be sipping for another few minutes at least.

Corin: Well, radio in when you have something.

Titus might not have anything of use, but we can still listen in on what’s going on at the nearest listening station.

([1] – some distorted screaming, explosions, gunshots, fire sounds, etc)

Well, that sounded pretty bad. Remember that all of that is out there waiting for you if you feel the need to go smoke. Might want to wait a little bit.

I have in front of me a list of all the possible causes of the apocalypse. First item is giant robot AI. That is interesting. I should double check that with our resident robot expert, Dirk Cornelius Sexplosion, CEO of Giant-Ass Robots to Kick In Your Face. I say resident expert because he made the mistake of coming to live in this bunker, making him a resident.

New shareholders and old shareholders alike, you will enjoy hearing from Dirk. He is a man of such tremendous Evil, such dastardly masculinity, such malicious ingenuity, that we are truly lucky to have him here. He makes enormous metal machines that cause unfathomable amounts of damage worldwide, but his strength of will is even stronger. He is the master of manliness, the zenith of zero compassion, and the pinnacle of penility. Let me introduce Dirk motherfucking Sexplosion.

[[Pythonidae]]

(Dirk sobs)

Corin: Oh, for fuck’s sake, it’s the apocalypse, man. Get yourself together!

Dirk (ANWAR): I’m trying! It’s… It’s not the apocalypse.

Corin: What’s the problem?

Dirk: It’s… my family, Corin. My wives. My husband. Our dogs and hedgehog.

Corin: They’re all here. We evacuated them before we definitely caused the apocalypse.

Dirk: It’s not that. They’re safe and sound and set up in our luxury apocalypse bunker away from all of these filthy normal people. But they’re just so angry at me, Corin.

Corin: Dirk, it’s not unusual for friends and family to not understand your relationship with or appreciation of Evil. We have support groups for that.

Dirk: It’s not that, Corin. It’s… They think I caused the apocalypse.

Corin: That’s ridiculous, Dirk. We caused the apocalypse. Possibly using your robots, but it was us, not you. I have lists here of everything you were working on and none of them could have ended the world individually.

Dirk: There’s more than just that, Corin.

Corin: Go on.

Dirk: Well, you see, you’re always pushing me to be more Evil. Harder. Toxically manlier.

Corin: Well, Dirk, you tend to bring me really wimpy shit. Like giant dog robots that humans pilot so they can feel like puppies.

Dirk: Well, I decided I had enough of being so sad about stuff like that and I was just going to push through it. I was going to make a giant robot that could destroy the world. I kept it off the books. No one was to know about it until it was done. The MegaDeFuckulatrix 9 Quadrillion.

Corin: I’m going to set aside my frustration at your dishonesty for a moment. Don’t tell me this robot could feel the desperation of aging or some bullshit like that.

Dirk: (through sobs) It had rocket launchers firing spent uranium.

Corin: That sound sick as shit.

Dirk: It had enormous blades to destroy entire forests!

Corin: Rad.

Dirk: It could set fires large enough to change the weather hundreds of miles away!

Corin: I’m really loving this robot.

Dirk: Its fuel source was people!

Corin: Fuck yeah.

Dirk: I mean, not just people, but people are its favorite.

Corin: Dirk, I’m not mad at you. I’m just amazed. I love the MegaDeFuckulatrix 9 Quadrillion. You did all of this on your own without our help?

Dirk: It took everything I had. And I went too far, Corin! I killed all people. Now there’s no one left. And my family is so mad at me.

Titus: Come in, Corin.

Corin: What is it Titus?

Titus: The dust where I’m sitting has started to subside and it looks like there’s a giant robot here.

Dirk: MegaDeFuckulatrix 9 Quadrillion!

Titus: Ah, yep. That’s what it says on it. Right on the shaft of its big robo dick.

Corin: Dirk, you gave the robot a dick?

Dirk: We’ve been over this, Corin. If the robot doesn’t have a dick, then none of the other parts fit together. You just have a pile of robot parts on the floor. And that’s not going to feast on any humans, is it?

Titus: Well, the robot is now rocking back and forth on it’s robo buttocks, and it appears to be sobbing. It is trying to eat the trees nearby, but it is not having a good go of it.

Dirk: But it eats people. For fuel. Not trees.

Titus: Well, it looks like it might have grown a conscience. It didn’t even do that much damage first. Looks like maybe one factory destroyed, no more than maybe seventy five people. I don’t think this big guy caused the apocalypse.

[Robot Crying]

Dirk: He sounds so sad! But that means… I’m in the clear?

Corin: It looks like it. Thank you, Titus. Please let me know if you discover anything else.

Titus: Right-o. Titus out.

Dirk: MegaDeFuckulatrix 9 Quadrillion is just like me. It tries so hard, but then, it’s just so sad.

Corin: Just like you.

Dirk: I’m so relieved, Corin. My family will be so happy to hear this.

Corin: So the next item on my list is AI robot swarms. Do you know anything about those, Dirk?

Dirk: Huh? No. We don’t use artificial intelligence. We only use artificial stupidity and artificial emotional instability.

Corin: I think I can see what happened here. Well, you can go back to your family, then.

Dirk: But… my son is out there, Corin.

Corin: MegaDeFuckulatrix 9 Quadrillion?

Dirk: He’s so sad and out there all alone. I should help him, Corin. I can teach him to eat plants if that will make him happy.

Corin: It’s the apocalypse out there, Dirk, and you’re not apocalypse proof. I think this will sort itself out. And you can’t leave.

Dirk: I just want my boy to be happy, Corin!

Corin: Go to your family, Dirk.

Dirk: Yes. You’re right, Corin. My boy will be fine out there.

Corin: That’s not what I said– I mean, yeah, he’ll be fine.

[[Bawdry]]

Talking to Dirk, I almost forgot about our impending doom for a minute there. Let’s check in on the horror outside.

([2] – Another really terrible sound)

That still sounds pretty bad. Maybe it’s mutants. That would be fun. To tell us more about mutants, we have Mitch Grody from the Division of Mutants and Freaks, author of What to Expect When You’re Expecting to Severely Mutate to tell us more.

Mitch (ADAM): It’s great to be here, Corin.

Corin: So what do you have to tell us today?

Mitch: Well, Corin, as you know, I’m a mutant. And I just want to tell everyone in here that there’s nothing to worry about. In the event that this apocalypse has been caused by radiation or some virulent mutagen that the shareholders were unable to avoid for any reason, I am here to tell them that it’s okay to be a mutant. I’m a mutant, and I live a full and happy life.

Corin: How did your mutation come to be?

Mitch: Well, I used to be a lab tech testing new and strange genetic modifications. One day, I noticed we forgot to put the right specimen in the chamber and I went to switch it out real quick when the gene laser hit me right in the family jewels. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but when I woke up the next day, I had two penises, Corin. I thought that was pretty neat. The next day, I had three penises, and I think we can all agree that’s too many. Right ladies? Clap if you think three penises is too many.

Corin: So what was the rest of the transformation like?

Mitch: Well, as you can see, the rest of my skin got kind of weird. Lumpy. Flaky. Weird. And I also have a few other organs that have split in three. My liver being one. Alcohol doesn’t affect me any longer. And then my life took a pretty steep decline. My girlfriend couldn’t keep up with my three dicks. They all have different personalities, you know. Different needs. And tastes. So my girlfriend left. Then my landlord kicked me out. I mean, all I had done was cover my apartment in moss. People don’t realize how nice it is to sleep on moss when your skin is so lumpy and flaky. This was in the days before the Mutant Non-Discrimination Act. Things are so much better now.

Corin: How did you learn to cope? It’s important for our shareholders who might be mutating at this moment to know there’s hope.

Mitch: Well, I found a new lover with three vaginas. And a penis. I didn’t think I’d like that, but it grew on me. Not literally. Still just the three penises here. Anyway, she and I are very much in love, even after she found out that I caused her mutation due to my own loneliness. I needed another mutant freak to be with, and I arranged for her to have an accident. It seems that no one else will love her now. I call that a victory, Corin.

Corin: You are a mutant, and a monster. Do you have any recommendations for people just beginning to mutate?

Mitch: Thank you, Corin, for pitching my book. I would tell anyone feeling the tug of the mutated fates that they should begin to study mutation. Know it inside and out. Learn everything you can from everyone you can. Begin experimenting as much as possible. And when the time comes, act as selfishly as possible and patch things up later. And by that, I mean find someone special, and dose them with just the right mutagens to get them to be your perfect missing piece. And if you happen to end up with four vaginas and three penises, my lover and I are currently looking for a swinging partner.

Corin: Well, I don’t know how anyone can be depressed about their progressing mutation with advice like that. Thank you, Mitch.

Titus: Come in, Corin.

Corin: I’m here.

Titus: I just tasted the dirt up here. It does not taste like radiation or mutagens. That is conclusive evidence.

Corin: Well… okay. I’ll take your word for it.

[[Aerator]]

So as shareholders in Kakos Industries, it is important to have pride in what you are now a part of. I would like to tell you about a few of our ongoing programs that will be contributing to Evil in the post-apocalyptic future.

The first program is The Better Mutants from our partner Better Mutations Inc. While we just learned that there will be no mutants in the post-apocalypse due to radiation or mutagens, we all have certain expectations for what should be out there when we finally surface. For this reason, The Better Mutants project was undertaken. As we speak, ordinary animals like crows, pigeons, lizards, and rabbits are all being modified to be larger and far more hazardous. Sharper teeth, a thirst for blood, and acidic secretions they shoot out of their eyeballs. It will really help to sell the post-apocalypse stylistically speaking in the future, which I think we can all appreciate. Or at least our great grandchildren will. They will think, “Thank Evil this wasteland is so dangerous. My immersion would have been broken otherwise!”

We also occasionally spend time working with fashion. While it’s great fun and great Evil designing clothes that no one can fit into, or clothes that make us look so sexually exciting that it’s difficult to think about anything other than sex, until the clothes come off and we realize just how deeply unappealing all of us humans are at the base level when undoctored by makeup and wardrobe. But for now, our Division of Adornments has taken a much more serious task. That is, to keep the wasteland sexy. I know for a fact that none of you in this room would be satisfied to see a wasteland where no one is hot. So they’ve been leaving stashes of ripped and torn clothing, but in like better ways than would happen at random, so our descendants will look amazing while still fitting into that scavenger aesthetic. This way, we can imagine an apocalypse the way we might like to imagine it, especially as we are quietly satisfying ourselves so as not to disturb our neighbor in the next bunk.

([Noise 1])

[[Melantha Keys]]

Melantha (BECCA): Corin. I’m interrupting you.

Corin: Ah, Melantha Murther, CEO of [Competitor – Corin Pronunciation], our largest competitor.

Melantha: You sound like you have a speech impediment. Or damage to the speech processing section of your brain. It’s pronounced [Competitor – Melantha Pronunciation].

Corin: Ah, I see. My mistake.

Melantha: It happens all the time. It’s a useful Shiboleth for finding out who around me is a complete idiot.

Corin: How is your apocalypse, Melantha?

Melantha: It’s fantastic. So hot! We finished the hole under our building just in time, and we just dropped the whole thing down underground to safety. Now, nothing can touch us, and we can keep doing Evil.

Corin: That’s comforting news. It seems that our rivalry will go on, then.

Melantha: Rivalry? Don’t be silly. It’s not like you caused the apocalypse.

Corin: What? Of course we caused the apocalypse.

Melantha: No. You didn’t. We did. Because we are far more Evil than you. No Evil Left Undone. That’s our motto, and the apocalypse was the obvious next step when we had finished all the other Evils.

Corin: Then how did the apocalypse happen?

Melantha: Well… it was… obviously an extremely infectious venereal disease from our lab. It makes people just do it a whole lot, all over the place, in all the positions. Doing it. And spreading the disease until everyone is doing it. But then your nose falls off. And then you die.

Titus: Come in, Corin.

Corin: Go ahead, Titus.

Melantha: Are you taking another call? Right now?

Titus: I just got lucky, Corin. Just rooted a woman here on the surface. She was looking to feel something other than fear for a few moments and pulled me aside to do the deed. I can safely confirm that venereal disease has not caused the apocalypse. I am detecting nothing abnormal about my loins at all. The woman ran off, so I couldn’t do any, uh, further testing. But, Definitely not VD.

Corin: Excellent news, Titus. Do you hear that, Melantha? You didn’t cause the apocalypse.

Melantha: Then what did?

Corin: Well, obviously, it was… drugs?

Titus: Corin, I have just snorted some of the dirt. No buzz at all. Not a thing. Not even a little bit. It wasn’t drugs either.

Melantha: Then you don’t know either! Ha! It seems this is a draw, Corin! I’ll just keep investigating until I figure out that I caused this and then I will rub your face in it. Hahahahaha!

[Noise 2]

Corin: Or maybe I caused it! I mean… I could have. We’ll get to the bottom of this, shareholders.

But first, let’s take a brief intermission. If you haven’t already, please tell us what is most Evil on the pad of paper here at the front, and throw your name into the Ruin-A-Life Drawing.

[[Stop Music]]

INTERMISSION

We will now need a volunteer from the audience. Who wants to read? (Don’t make me pick one of you at random)

[[Flathead]]

What’s your name? Thank you for coming to the stage. Ladies, gentlemen, and everyone else, this is X. Thank you so much for joining us today. Now, as I understand it, you have volunteered to seal the tunnels from the outside and brave whatever terrors might be waiting for you out there to save all of us. This is truly a dangerous and terrible task, and we thank you for that.

Guest: I have no idea what you are talking about.

Corin: Ah, yes, I did hear about the head injury you encountered earlier. It can play havoc with your memories.

Guest: I did not volunteer to do anything dangerous.

Corin: Don’t be ridiculous. It was very brave. We were all very impressed.

Guest: Just a moment ago, you asked for volunteers to come read a part.

Corin: That doesn’t sound right. I introduced you, you came to the stage and now you are telling me about the brave and dangerous feat ahead of you, and I am telling you just how brave and courageous we think you are. Thank you for your service.

Guest: You asked me to come read. Anyone in the audience will remember that.

Corin: The audience does not remember that. And if they do, then there’s a kind of thing called a collective hallucination. If anyone remembers me asking for you to come up here from the audience, they are just remembering wrong. You are a guest like any other on this show. We talked about it earlier. Your family did mention you might have some memory troubles, though.

Guest: I have no idea what’s happening.

Corin: None of us do. It’s the apocalypse. It is all very scary and we are all thankful that you are going to do this selfless thing and go battle with escaped monsters and terrible biological pathogens that are certain to be lining the tunnels now until you finally fall to one of their attacks, saving all of us.

Guest: This is crazy. I volunteered for none of that. I just came here to watch a show because you asked me to on Facebook.

Corin: Oh, bless your heart. We will never forget your sacrifice.

Guest: I simply will not do this thing.

Corin: That’s okay. We have several people standing by to escort you to your new task. Everyone please applaud as this brave soul goes to do something unimaginably brave and selfless for all of us. And die a terrible death. (You can go now)

It’s been a minute since we checked outside. Let’s have a listen.

[3] (More Terrible sounds)

At Kakos Industries, we are known for our parties. Of course, we’re Evil and we take the time to party whenever we can. I know that some of you long time shareholders might be concerned about how we might continue this critical part of our operations in these new, dramatically worsened circumstances. Obviously, we will all have to make some modifications, and that includes how we will celebrate. Right now, we should be having the Shareholders’ Ball, the most extravagant party of the year for us at Kakos Industries. It’s that time when we celebrate you, the shareholders. We spare no expense, and violate whatever morals we might have left, to bring you a feast and entertainment to truly remember. We’re still working out the kinks, but it’s likely the entertainment and the food offerings will be human suffering themed. Because we’ve got a lot of it right now. Those of you with chef on your new class cards should get to work so I don’t look like a fool when the time comes.

There’s also the Festival of Books. We do have a few books. They are all Dan Brown novels, though. Sorry about that. Not quite as exciting as we’re used to.

The CEO Festival is the festival where you all celebrate me. I did mention the thunderdome, right? It’ll probably be a thunderdome kind of thing. And the Festival of the Dance? Probably thunderdome. The Festival of Darkness will occur any time someone uses the bluetooth speaker without using the electric bike. It’ll trip the breaker and turn out the lights. Festival of Somnambulation? That’ll also be a thunderdome. The Thunderdome Festival will be a quiet game of cards, though.

I mentioned our low supply of books, but it would seem that the rest of our media is somewhat limited as well. The Internet has been completely destroyed. (pause) That’s what I thought. We’re not really that sad about it, are we? We’ve been kind of like, waiting for it to go for a while now, right? Before the apocalypse we tried to archive as much of the Internet as possible, so we could pretend like it still exists for some time, but the only things we managed to save were extreme right wing terrorist forums, so we deleted them. Also we saved the most recent meme to be posted to the Internet right before everything went to shit. It’s not a good one, but it is the last thing humanity did before the end of the world. It’s a kitten, on a blue background, and it says “This apocalypse shit is freaking meowt.” Congratulations, humanity.

[[Overdraught]]

To speak with us a bit more about the limited media we still have access to, we are now joined by Lisa Librera, the curator of what remains of our archives of entertainment. So, Lisa, what do we have to keep ourselves busy?

Lisa (KELSEY): Thank you, Corin. In addition to the books you mentioned and the lovely meme that will need to sustain us for the rest of time, we also have a small collection of VHS tapes, but they are all either commercial releases of Showgirls, the Ernest collection, or television taped in Super Long Play mode by someone’s grandmother. We know whose, we’re just not comfortable sharing that information right now. You will have to check them out and return them in one piece. Also, there is only one VCR, and it stays in the break room.

Corin: That seems difficult, but I assume we will adapt quickly.

Lisa: We also have a complete collection of Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass on Vinyl, and an extremely worn copy of Thriller. The stylus has broken on our turntable, however. For other auditory entertainment, we also have this kitschy digital remote control that just plays fart sounds. Please use this responsibly.

Corin: If anyone can be trusted with such a power, it is our shareholders.

Lisa: We also have many of the Earth’s greatest works of art that you can look at through a window on the far side of the break room. Please do not concern yourselves with the identities of the masked figures who move the art around and sort it, and do not concern yourself with how we got any of it either.

Corin: I can think of nothing concerning about any of that. At least not to my sensibilities.

Lisa: There are six decks of cards. You will need to show proof that you will be playing cards with at least one other person before you will be allowed to check one out. No solitaire. We don’t have the resources for solitaire. We also have some dice, but they are exclusively for gambling.

Corin: I was going to ask about gambling. I’m glad that particular aspect of humanity will continue into the apocalypse.

Lisa: There is one puzzle. We don’t know what it’s supposed to look like when completed, or if all of the pieces are there, or if all of the pieces are even from the same puzzle.

Corin: I’m sure we will find out quickly.

Lisa: There are also several copies of Monopoly that I expect none of you to play. We also have a Bop-It, and a Skip-It. We expect them to be completely broken by tomorrow.

Corin: I can see that.

Lisa: There is also just one remaining porno magazine. It will be kept under lock and key. You will have to make an appointment, look at it, memorize whatever you need, and then go about your way, leaving it in the case. I am told, however, that there is something for everyone in it.

Corin: What about people who need more physical activity to keep themselves sane?

Lisa: You’ve already mentioned the exercise bike and the blue tooth speaker, but we do have a complete weight room in case you feel like getting prison jacked while you’re down here, and why not. We also have the GED prep book for anyone who wants to better themselves. We cannot guarantee that the information in this book is going to be valuable in the post apocalypse, but it’s about time you got yourself back into school.

Corin: That makes sense. It’s never too late for self improvement.

Lisa: We also have a limited supply of a variety of colors of paint so that you may while away the hours watching them dry. There’s also this cup and ball thing that I think we’re all going to be experts at soon enough, and a single puzzle cube, but it’s missing two of the face stickers. We don’t have the right color markers to do anything about that.

Corin: Well it seems like we might be just about set for the rest of our lives down here. Is there anything else?

Lisa: We also have one of those floor mats that promises to teach you to do the Jitterbug, but we lost the instructions. And the music.

Corin: That’s too bad. Thank you for joining us.

[[Helena]]

Corin: Hey, Titus.

Titus: Yes, Corin?

Corin: Is there any chance the apocalypse was caused by boredom?

Titus: I certainly don’t think so, Corin. If anything, it is quite exciting out here. I am positively riveted. It reminds me of my youth, when I used to cliff dive into waters just infested with jellies to show them who was boss.

I have a note here saying that our next guest is Deborah Highlow, from the Division of Animal Husbandry. Well, okay.

Deborah (BECCA): I appreciate you asking me here, Corin.

Corin: I definitely didn’t do that.

Deborah: I have something very important to talk about today.

Corin: Okay. Go ahead.

Deborah: It’s about the animals we have here in the bunker. Our livestock.

Corin: Do you want to talk with us about how to handle the animals and make sure that they last for generations to come?

Deborah: No, all of that is automated. I have something more important to talk about. May I address the shareholders directly?

Corin: Uh, yeah. I guess.

Deborah: Hello shareholders. My name is Deborah. I work with animals every day. I love animals and all that they have to offer us, so I want to talk to you about the most pressing issue facing us now that we are locked in this basement with the livestock. And that is overcoming your lust for them.

Corin: I’m going to cut you off right there, Deborah.

Deborah: Corin, this is important. Let me finish.

Corin: No guarantees.

Deborah: We’ve all been there. You catch the eye of that beautiful, glistening pack animal, and you think, there is nothing I want inside of me more than that animal.

Corin: Like to eat?

Deborah: No, Corin. Not to eat.

Corin: Please let’s not do this.

Deborah: You start by stroking its mane.

Corin: No.

Deborah: and maybe you get a little bit experimental.

Corin: Please stop.

Deborah: But this is wrong. We cannot fuck the animals.

Corin: Didn’t even cross my mind.

Deborah: You say that now, Corin. But just wait three months, down here, with all of these people. You’ll fuck half of them by next month. But then what will excite you?

Corin: Three months sounds like a short amount of time for this kind of change.

Deborah: You’ll start looking to the cows. Or the chickens. Or the horses.

Corin: There aren’t any horses down here.

Deborah: Oh, what a relief then. Actually, it was primarily the horses I was worried about. Now I feel silly for even bringing this up.

Corin: Well, I feel… silly isn’t the right word.

Deborah: Goodbye, Corin.

So… we’re going to have to get someone to fuck Deborah. Like a human person. Fall on that sword, guys. Because there will be no animal fucking in here.

Now we recognize it can get kind of boring down here, especially if you don’t have a whole lot of friends in this group, which is why we’re starting up some extracurricular activities to stay busy. We will have a choir. We currently only have the sheet music for acapella Sweet Caroline, but I’m sure you resourceful people will figure out some other songs.

We’re also going to have some roleplaying groups, but each group will have that guy that tries to game the system in a super unfun way. We also have one amongst us who can teach everyone else to make pottery. I am told that there is also an inflatable hot tub, but the heater is broken, and it probably has a hole in it.

I am now joined by Dennis Leelio, Director of The Intergalactic Network For Otherworldly Industry Liaisons, or TINFOIL for short.

[[Automat 2]]

Corin: What do you have to talk about today, Dennis?

Dennis (ANWAR): Well, usually, COrin, I deal with outer space shit. Aliens. Making alliances. Maintaining trade. Getting the good Froobberries from Markalon 99, okay? But now, we’re underground. I could have been in space for the apocalypse, but you decided to bring me back to Earth so that I could join you guys in the fucking ground. Real, exciting, Corin. Just a great fucking time for me. And now what do they ask me to do, Corin? They ask me to keep an eye on the drug stash. They know that I get a little cranky when I have chardonnay. They know I’m not going to touch the blow, or the blizz, or the weed cigarettes. But now I have the unenviable task of keeping these fucking drug fiends out there away from the stash so it lasts a while. There are no more drugs, Corin. What we’ve got is what we’ve got. No pens, no powders, no leaves, no flowers. We’re not getting any more, okay? So we’ve got to let everyone down real easy. Did you see that, Corin? Half of your damn shareholders just stiffened up knowing that they can’t smoke their jazz herbs every day for the rest of the apocalypse. Their buttholes just got real tight, Corin. And look at that guy. He’s fucking itchy just at the thought of not having any nose sweets. This is real great for me, Corin. Just dealing with a bunch of drug addled people looking for their fix. People that you got addicted. And you know I can’t leave anyone else in charge of the stash. Not even Derek. He’ll do all the drugs, Corin. I left him at the stash for five minutes and I bet he’s done half of the stuff already. In fact, the longer I’m here talking to you, the less drugs we’re going to have because my idiot assistant has a serious meeblebock problem. That’s not even a drug we have here, Corin. He is so fucked when the sweats start, and you know who’s going to have to take care of him? You know who’s going to have to breastfeed him back to health? It sure as shit isn’t you, Corin. It’s me. I’m going to have to change his bedding when he soils himself, and what thanks do I get for any of this? None. No thanks. No thanks for Dennis. Maybe I should do the drugs, Corin. Maybe I should just stick my face in there and just snort, smoke and swallow, and inject until I’m a fucking vegetable. Then I won’t have to deal with this garbage. The apocalypse? Go fuck yourself, Corin. Go fuck yourself.

Corin: I’ll let you get back to the stash.

Dennis: Thank you.

Corin: Hey, Dennis.

Dennis: What?

Corin: Thank you.

Dennis: Oh, go fuck yourself, Corin. Go fuck yourself. I deserve better than this shit.

Titus: Come in, Corin.

Corin: Yep. Go ahead.

Titus: I have determined that the end is not due to lack of cheese. There’s still plenty of cheese up here.

Corin: That’s not even on my list of possibilities. Can you look into electromagnetic pulses or superstorms? Maybe global warming?

Titus: I’m on it, Corin. Just as soon as I sample some more cheese.

[[Landlike]]

Shareholders, I have just received a note from my grandfather. If you’re a new shareholder, then you should know that my grandfather wrote me a lot of letters before he died to cover a wide variety of contingencies. This one is titled “The Apocalypse”. He writes, “Well, Corin, it was bound to happen, wasn’t it. The end of the world. And you were bound to cause it. I didn’t, and my predecessors didn’t either, so we were due. Don’t feel too bad sport. Everything was always headed this direction. In this letter, I’ve included a key. It opens a lockbox in storage 38-99-A in the bunker. There’s a bottle of DarkMegaScotch in there. Toast the world for me, would you? Also, if the apocalypse is anything like those months I spent underground in the seventies researching our internal clocks and how Evil they are, then it’s important to put on pants every single day. Every day, Corin. You promise me. Every day. If you don’t, that’s when the problems start. Put your pants on. Even when you don’t want to. You have to. Every day. Every day. Love ya, kiddo.” Well, I’m wearing pants now. Advantageous start, I guess.

Let’s take a listen outside again.

([Not so terrible sound] Something silly, like a carnival or something. Geese. Laughter.)

That doesn’t sound right.

The Division of Incredibly Boring things is still at work, shareholders. This is one of my favorite divisions. They’re always doing such interesting things. Well, not interesting. The opposite, actually–

([Noise 1])

Corin: Who is it now?

Svetlana (MASHA): My name is Svetlana. I work for DarkMegaKGB.

Corin: Ah. New shareholders, the DarkMegaUSSR is one of our rivals. But their leader took almost everyone and started a colony on Mars.

Svetlana: It is the reddest of planets. Even if Vodya was a bit misguided in his desire to get there so soon. He has left some of us behind on Earth to continue bringing collectivized Evil to the world.

Corin: So why did you call? Are you going to take credit for the apocalypse?

Svetlana: This is just like you capitalists. You think that it is always competition and that person who goes biggest wins. And it is your short sightedness that brings us to this mess. This apocalypse. Communist Evil would last a hundred thousand generations. No History. No social unrest. Just Evil. But you, and your consumption, and your need to exploit every one of Earth’s resources in pursuit of shiny things, you have gone too far. Capitalism has done this, and now there is no one left to do Evil to. No one left in gulag. No one left in frozen wastes. All is wasted.

Corin: You think capitalism did this? I mean, sure. Why not. We’ll take the blame.

Svetlana: Short sighted as always.

Titus: Corin, I did some looking into the weather patterns.

Corin: Forget about that for a minute. Did capitalism cause the apocalypse?

Titus: Ah, Capitalism? Well… That’s a tricky one, Corin. I am not economist. Hold on.

(Titus makes nibbling sounds)

Titus: Well, Corin, I’ve just chewed some bark here. I can detect notes of runaway capitalism, notes of financial oligarchy, a hint of cronyism, and a lot of greed, but no, Corin. Capitalism may have helped, but it’s not the root of the problem.

Corin: Do you hear that Svetlana?

Svetlana: In that case, we will take credit for the apocalypse. Thank you for conceding, Mr. Deeth. It has made our job much easier.

([noise 2])

Corin: Oh, fuck.

Corin: Okay, Titus, tell me what you’ve discovered about the weather patterns.

[Wind]

Titus: Okay, here goes: It    is windy.

(pause)

Corin: That’s it?

Titus: This wind did not cause the apocalypse.

Corin: Then find out what did!

Titus: Ah, yep. That’s the point, Corin. Working on it. Titus out.

[STOP Wind]

Corin: This is getting pretty frustrating.

[[Equivocacy]]

Now to try to perk us up, I am joined by Francine Drow to talk with us about Euthanasia options. Wait, that doesn’t sound pleasant at all.

Francine (JESSIE): It most certainly isn’t, Corin, but we have to have this conversation.

Corin: I suppose I agree. We have to make sure that we have mature conversations about things like this.

Francine: And we also don’t want anyone making a fucking mess all over the bunker for everyone else to see and clean up. We understand, you know. This is all terribly depressing and the desire to leave it all behind is not difficult to empathize with. Why, I’m thinking about it right now myself. And that’s why we’ve decided to set up safe, sanitary, and most importantly, tidy ways of ending it all. The last thing we need is brains all over the fucking walls, or gallons of blood staining the floor for the rest of eternity. We also don’t want your bowels releasing anywhere other than the designated areas for that. It’s really about morale.

Corin: Morale?

Francine: Obviously. If we have a bunch of corpses piling up everywhere, and leaving remnants in the most difficult to clean nooks and crannies, then it will have a seriously negative effect on morale. People cannot be content in those circumstances.

Corin: So what do you recommend?

Francine: Well, we have a variety of ways to take you out for good that are far more agreeable than leaving yourself hanging like a flag, waving for all to see. We have drugs and a variety of painless poisons. And best of all, the emotional impact you have on the rest of us is far less with these methods. We can’t stop you from doing it, but we can ask that you not make it a whole thing, you know?

Corin: Do you have anything hopeful to say after all of that?

Francine: No matter how you die, we will harvest your sperm or eggs if you have any and use those to make more people in the future. We just can’t lose the genetic diversity.

Corin: I’m not sure that’s all that hopeful.

Francine: Did I forget to smile?

Corin: Thank you for joining us, Francine.

Let’s check in with the sounds outside to see how things are progressing.

[4](More terrible sounds)

That’s about what I expected.

[[Overt Operation]]

[Fire]

Titus: I have another update.

Corin: Go ahead.

Titus: It’s regarding global warming. It is rather warm where I am, but I am inside a burning building.

Corin: Titus, get out of there!

Titus: Don’t you worry, Corin. I’m apocalypse proof, remember?

Corin: Fine. But this isn’t useful information.

Titus: I’m only one man, Corin. I’m doing the best I can.

Corin: Well, keep at it. It seems like we might not figure out the answer to this enormous question before the end of the show here. We’ll have to distribute literature later or something. Or maybe have another show.

Titus: Whatever you think is best, Corin. I’m going to have another beer in the meantime.

[Can]

[STOP Fire]

They say that Evil once ate one half of each of two babies and sewed them up into one baby. This is Things We’re Taking Credit for Now. New shareholders, this is the segment where we announce that we’re taking credit for Evil things around the world. We definitely did do these things, but it’s not always easy to prove how. Today, we are taking credit for ________, _________, and the apocalypse. I guess I said that one already. If you happen to disagree that we did any of these things, prepare to experience the apocalypse head on. Outside.

X has won the Ruin-A-Life Drawing. As a result, the life of X’s nemesis will be ruined. X has selected Y for this punishment. We spun the Wheel of Misery with an Evil amount of force and it sailed right past apocalypse to land on the space designated for Nonjudgmental. That’s right, from this day forward, Y will be 300% more nonjudgmental. This includes situations where being judgmental isn’t really helping anyone, but also situations where some judgment would actually be a pretty good idea. Like picking your friends and lovers. For Evil Measure, X will be 30% more judgmental. That may take a toll. Congratulations on the win and best of luck.

[[Tautologize]]

And that brings us to the end of the show. No more word from Titus. The apocalypse just happened and now we have to deal with it. Not the best outcome, but Evil perseveres.

[Laser]

Titus: Corin.

Corin: What is it, Titus?

Titus: Well, it’s the apocalypse.

Corin: It is the apocalypse. What about it?

Titus: Do you remember when I told you about that ray that they used to test my apocalypse-proofness?

Corin: I remember thinking that it made no sense.

Titus: Well, this is embarrassing, but it looks like one of the scientists in the lab left the ray on, and it looks like it slipped, so it’s no longer hitting the apocalypse-proof panel on the wall. Instead, it’s hitting a glass of water and being reflected out of the window, where it is hitting the Earth. I believe this apocalypse ray may be causing the apocalypse.

Corin: That is so incredibly stupid.

Titus: I agree, Corin, but you just can’t make this stuff up.

Corin: Well, turn it off.

[Laser Off]

Titus: It is off, Corin.

Corin: And the apocalypse light on my desk turned off. Titus, you ended the apocalypse.

Titus: Are you sure, Corin? I still feel like everything is terrible.

Corin: Oh, it is.

Titus: Nothing makes sense. Everyone is mad at everyone else.

Corin: Yep.

Titus: It feels like democracy is crumbling and no one cares about truth anymore.

Corin: uh-huh. But it’s not the apocalypse anymore. I’ll see you back at work, Titus. Corin out.

Well, shareholders, this is embarrassing. But on the other hand, at least it was us here at Kakos Industries that caused the apocalypse, and not any of our competitors. I suppose we can let you go now. Hopefully your loved ones survived the few hours of apocalypse.

Please tip your bartenders. We will have merch in the back. Have an amazing night. The numbers are next.

[[The Numbers]]

11

22

69

120

220

12

40

440

4

8

76

79

69

69

420

49

42

99

4

4

4

4

I suppose now that everything is back to normal we can take one more listen outside.

[5] (Another terrible sound)

Where the hell did we put that microphone?

[[Kakos Bells with Reverse Reverb]]

[[Potency]]

Kelsey: This special live presentation of Kakos Industries was written and produced by Conrad Miszuk, who is also the voice of Corin Deeth III. The introduction is read by Kitty McCauley, and the credits are read by Kelsey Kemmer, the current thunderdome champion after squashing a fly in there. Special appearance in this episode by Adam Miszuk, Anwar Newton, Rebecca Ryan, Jessie Marie, Masha Zapalova, and Kelsey Kemmer. Please visit KakosIndustries.com for news, extras, and more episodes. There are also transcriptions on the website if you’d like to read along with the Kakos Industries announcements. That’s K-A-K-O-S-I-N-D-U-S-T-R-I-E-S dot com. Please visit store.KakosIndustries.com for merchandise and special offers and get wonderful benefits by becoming a subscription donor at kakosindustries.com/patreon. You can also buy stuff in the lobby! Questions, comments, or a strong desire to collaborate? Drop us a line at inquiries@kakosindustries.com. If you like Kakos Industries, be sure to rate and review us on your favorite podcasting service, and connect with us on YouTube (YouTube.com/KakosIndustries), Facebook (facebook.com/kakosindustries), Tumblr (kakosindustries.tumblr.com), and Twitter (@KakosIndustries). We encourage fan art and listener participation on all our social media platforms. We’ve recently expanded our social media team, so please visit the website to view their credits and current projects.

Kelsey: Kakos Industries can be heavy sometimes. Try exercising to take your mind off of all of the darkness.

[[Stop Music]]

[freudensteins-monster]

Random MCU Crossover Idea#62973: Gilmore Girls

Saw a few Gilmore Girls posts today and my brain immediately went into crossover mode. And then I saw a post on Buzzfeed with things/storylines people hated and I was like, yeah, I hated that too. And I hated AYITL, and I can’t bring myself to rewatch the original seasons because Emily is SO awful, and I can’t remember why I liked the show so much originally, and yet...

The day Tony’s high school girlfriend, Maya, showed him the little plus sign on the cheap plastic pregnancy test his world was turned upside down, and hers was pretty much over. As Maya grew to resent him and everything about their situation, Tony comes to  the realisation that he doesn’t want the life their parents are planning for him, and the moment he holds his daughter, Darcy, in his arms he knows he doesn’t want that life for her either.

As soon as Darcy can be seperated from her mother (Maya only too happy to sign over her parental rights), Tony packs their things and takes the busted up hot rod his father had bought him for his 15th birthday (promising they’d do it up together but Howard never did find the time) and drives all night until it finally breaks down outside Angie’s Diner in Stars Hollow, run by Angie and her partner Peggy.

They take him in and talk the owner of the Independance Inn into let him stay in a small renovated shed on the grounds in return for doing repairs around the place. Whilst completely overwhelmed with the path he’s chosen, Tony does his best to build a life for his daughter, bussing tables at Angie’s and working odd jobs around town with Darcy in tow, and eventually moving into the apartment above Angie’s when she and Peggy buy a nice house on Maple Street.

He saves every penny he can and by the time Darcy’s ready to start school he has enough to get a loan from the bank (co-signed by Angie and Peggy) and buys a small garage across town. A small part of him would have loved to put his name on it but he thinks of his family name emblazoned across hospital wings and skyscrapers and decides that “Stars Hollow Auto Repairs” works just fine.

Darcy is amazing; sweet, funny, smart as a whip, and his best friend. She’s a little more reserved socially than he was at her age, even more so after puberty hit her like a truck, but he wouldn’t change a thing about her.

He used to worry about the gap in their lives where his parents and Maya should be, but every time they suffer through a holiday dinner at his parent’s mansion, or Maya blows into town for a weekend, he’s reminded that he made the right choice. And they’ve collected a pretty amazing family for themselves anyway.

Peggy and Angie are the best pseudo parents a guy could ask for. They’re semi retired now and spend a lot of the year travelling the world, leaving the diner in the mostly capable hands of Clint and Scott, a few other strays they’d taken in over the years.

Ms Natasha runs the local dance studio and has a hand in most of the art/drama events in town. She’s constantly changing her hair (favouring blood-of-her-enemies red), knows everything about everyone, and actively encourages the rumour that she’s in witness protection, on the run from the Russian mob.

Coulson, town selectman and owner of the local market, is more of a frenemy than friend. He likes things just so and is a stickler for the rules, and encourages the townspeople to uphold Star Hollows quaint and old fashioned aesthetic. He and Tony butt heads frequently, and though Coulson thinks Tony’s now gleaming hot rod, with its loud engine and flame decals, ruins the towns image, he’s still the only person Coulson would trust to work on his baby, Lola - a cherry red Corvette that totally doesn’t gel with the aesthetics iether, Tony would constantly point out, and Coulson would argue that he never drives it *in* town.

The ironically named Happy, head chef at the Independance Inn, is one of Tony’s closest friends, and he visits Happy’s kitchen at least three times a week for lunch and to generally making a nuisance of himself, much to the annoyance of inn manager, Pepper. Pepper was the first friend he made in Stars Hollow, then just a maid at the inn who followed the sounds of a baby crying to find the teenaged father struggling to get his daughter to sleep. She helped him get Darcy settled and then stayed up talking with him until he wound down enough to fall asleep himself. During those first few weeks she even went so far as to take Darcy, safetly nestled in amongst the clean towels, with her while she cleaned rooms when it was clear that Tony needed a few more hours sleep. There’s some mutual attraction there but nothing’s ever come of it. For those first few years Tony was single minded in getting his shit together and looking after Darcy, and then Pepper was dating someone, or he was. Their timing just never seemed to be right.

The day Darcy gets accepted into Shield Academy is one of the best days of their lives, until Tony sees the tuition fees. After exhausting all his options, and being laughed out of more than one bank, Tony does something he’d always promised himself he’d never do. Gathering every ounce of courage he has, and discarding his useless pride, he drives to his parents house, Darcy’s acceptance letter in hand, tail between his legs, and rings the doorbell.

"Tony? My goodness, this is a surprise. Is it Easter already?”

Darcy almost refused to go to Shield Academy, causing her and Tony’s long overdue annual arguement (usually it happens in July when it’s just too damn hot out and tempers are frayed). She’d miss her best - and only - friend, Daisy, she’d said. Though she’d be okay with getting fewer death glares from Mrs May, a strict and imposing healthy living enthusiast, who loathes technology and makes her daughter use the local library computers for her school work (but for never more than an hour a day). Darcy would hate to be there when Mrs May found out about the candy bars Daisy has stashed under the floorboards, the various parts of Daisy’s home-made computer hidden around her room, or the fact that her daughter hacks her neighbours wifi regularly and with great ease.

And then there was this boy, Steve. He was new to town, just moved from Brooklyn with his mom. He worked at Coulson’s market and was cute, and nice, and didn’t stare at her boobs, or make fun of her sweaters, or her glasses, or the books she carried everywhere. And when he smiled at her it made her want to do stupid things, like stay at her old school in case he decided to ask her out.

But she did go to Shield, and she did get to date Steve - the “perfect first boyfriend”. And after Steve there was Ms Natasha’s younger cousin, Bucky, another New York native supposedly running from the mob as well. He was dark, broody, smarter than anyone gave him credit for, and was rarely seen without his ancient leather jacket, the left sleeve seeming held together with duct tape. He’s a bit of a mess but slowly grows out of it, popping back into Darcy’s life at random intervals causing her head and heart a lot of confusion. And then in college there’s Loki. He’s smart, fun, maybe a little bit arrogant at times, but he’s from a wealthy and influential family - her grandparents adore him on that alone. Tony, not so much.

Tony’s dating history isn’t much better. There was Bruce, whose shy and awkward smile got him all twitterpated, but he was Darcy’s science teacher, which made their entire time together awkward and weird. He has an illadvised fling with Christine Everhart, one of his father’s head-of-something-or-other department and the daughter of one of his father’s former business partners. When things get even more complicated between their family’s companies and Christine tells him that she would have to sue Howard to get out of the mess she’s been dropped in, Tony surprises himself by siding with his father. And he and Pepper eventually try dating, but as usual their timing’s off and things don’t go smoothly. And through it all, his messy, on/off relationship with Darcy’s mother doesn’t make things any easier.

(Oh, and Luis is Kirk. And maybe Jane is a less bitchy, slightly less intense Paris?)

[bitsandshits]

Chapter 1

Why the Hell Not

Pairing: Shitty/Lardo (platonic partnership)

Word Count: 1456

Summary: Shitty's grandparents threaten to put his inheritance in the wrong hands if he doesn't agree to one simple stipulation: he needs to be married within the next five years. For aromantic asexual Shitty, this sounds like a nightmare. Unless he can convince his equally aromantic best friend to marry him, completely platonically of course.

Warnings: None, rated teen for canon-typical language

A million and one thanks to @omgittybits for answering a fuck ton of questions about adulting, apparently my college student ass doesn’t know anything about the full adult world out there.

Lardo found Shitty in the small restaurant easily, tucked into a secluded booth in the back. They motioned to the hostess and headed over, taking Shitty by surprise when they plopped in the seat across from him. “’Sup, bro? You sounded mad tense on the phone,” they said in greeting. Shitty grinned and held his fist out to bump.

 “Ah well, you know, I had that meeting with my fucking grandparents. It was, unsurprisingly, a fucking shit show and I need to talk to you. But before we get into this bullshit we need to get some alcohol flowing. They have a ‘swasome wine menu here, I think they have all your favorites,” he said, handing the wine menu over. Lardo perused it till the waiter came to take their orders.

 “I’ll have a glass of the Malbec,” Lardo ordered.

 “I’ll have the same,” Shitty quickly said. The waiter nodded as he wrote, taking the wine menu. They made small talk about what they wanted to get until the waiter retuned with their wine, Lardo then ordering Cornish game hen and Shitty ordering roasted prime sirloin. The waiter took their menus, promising their food would be out shortly. Lardo took a sip of their wine, eyebrows raised. Shitty took a deep, shaky breath.

 “I need you to marry me,” Shitty rushed out. Lardo stared for a minute before setting their glass down.

 “That’s one way to propose,” they chirped. “But seriously, what the fuck, dude?”

 “Okay so my grandparents wanted to meet about their will and my inheritance and shit, right? Well they start out the whole thing asking if I’ve found a nice wife yet. Which, I’m a fucking aro/ace, that’s not happening, and I told them so. They go and say well, no wife, no inheritance. I have to be married by the time I’m thirty-five. Which at first I was like fuck ‘em, I’m a goddamn successful lawyer, I don’t need their filthy money. But then they threatened to donate the money to whatever Republican presidential candidate is running.”

 “What the fuck?” Lardo interjected.

 “I know, brah, I know. So I’m like, fuck it, I can figure something out. So I convince them to get it in writing, and lawyer the fuck out of it, so all I’m required to do is be legally married by the time I’m thirty-five years old. Gives me five years to find some poor asshole to marry me. My first thought was maybe I could convince some dude to marry me, piss my grandparents off but still make sure that money doesn’t get into bad hands, get a divorce after a year or two maybe, there’s no specification on the length of the marriage. But then I thought about it more. And look, you’ve been my best bro for eleven years now. We call each other our partners half the time anyhow, we could just make it official. I’m pretty sure you’re my soulmate, brah. There’s nobody I’d rather marry,” Shitty looked at them earnestly. Lardo considered it, sipping at their wine.

 “If I marry you, do I get on your insurance?” they asked. Shitty threw his head back and laughed.

 “Yes, as a matter of fact, you do. The benefits go both ways here, actually. Tax benefit shit, if we wanted a house or if you wanted a studio it’d be easier to get a loan. We could move in together and share rent and bill costs. Et cetera, et ecetera,” Shitty said, waving his hand.

 “Sweet. This freelance shit doesn’t cover health insurance or anything, you know, and I’ve been looking into it. Expensive as fuck, dude, and it doesn’t even cover much. Isn’t yours like, ridiculous? Also, bro, people would quit asking us when we’re gonna ‘settle down’ or whatever. We can just tell people we have a spouse and be done with it. Not a lie, no further explanation needed,” they were starting to get excited by the idea.

 “And like, we don’t have to be monogamous. I know you like to hook up now and then, you know I don’t give a fuck,” Shitty assured them. Lardo nodded. It was extremely rare and usually only with someone close to them, but it was still nice to know it was an option.

 “Yeah, okay,” they finally decided. “I’ll do it. I can’t really think of anyone I’d rather marry, for convenience or otherwise. Go ahead, make me an honest person.” Shitty beamed at them, but the smile quickly turned into a shit-eating grin.

 “I got a ring, just in case, you know? I can return it if you don’t want it. But I figured, if I was gonna ask you to marry me, I should be prepared to do a proper job, if you wanted.” Lardo grinned back.

 “I mean, if you have a ring,” they agreed. “Make it good, I deserve only the best.” Shitty wasted no time in sweeping his napkin off his lap, throwing himself on one knee and fumbling to get the small black, velvet box out of his pocket. He cleared his throat loudly.

 “Larissa Duan, you are the most incredible, most talented, most responsible and kind and perfect person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing in my entire thirty years of life. I don’t know how I would’ve managed to get to where I am today without your support every second of every day. Would you please, for the love of god, do me the highest honor of agreeing to marry me and spend the rest of our ridiculous lives keeping me in line?” he asked, loudly and grandiosely, opening the box. Inside there was a rose gold band, not too thick, with tiny inlaid diamonds going all the way around the middle. Lardo was surprised to find that they actually felt a little choked up as they held out their left hand.

 “Well, how could I possibly say no to that?” they chirped. “Yes, you doofus, I’ll marry you. Nobody else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.” Shitty whooped as everyone around them applauded, getting to his feet and pulling Lardo up, hugging them tightly. He gently took the ring out of its box and slid it onto Lardo’s hand. It fit perfectly, to Lardo’s surprise, and was exactly what they’d choose, given an option. The two sat back down as the clapping died down, both grinning like idiots. “Great job on the ring, brah, how’d you know what size I was?”

 “I remembered from when you were looking at class rings back in college. You’re still the same size in all other respects, I figured that was probably about the same too, and if I was off we could just resize it,” he explained, shrugging. Lardo looked at him, dumbfounded.

 “That was like, 8 years ago. How the fuck do you still know that?” Shitty just raised a brow.

 “As if I don’t have a catalogue of like, every piece of info I ever learned about you. I bet you know what size ring I wear too.” Lardo had to think for a minute. They remembered when Jack won the Stanley Cup, when he got his ring and let Shitty try it on. “It’s too big,” he’d proclaimed, letting the ring slide off his finger. “I only wear a size ten, what is this, thirteen? You motherfucking giant of a hockey playing Adonis!” It’d quickly turned into a wrestling match as Jack tried to get his ring back, Shitty keeping it in his fist as he proclaimed finders keepers. Bitty and Lardo had watched in amusement, as they often did when it came to their partners.

 “You’re a size ten,” Lardo told him. Shitty just smirked.

 “Our lives are fucking intertwined bro, like knitted yarn or some shit. We’re like a fucking scarf together. There’s a reason I wanted you to be my totally platonic spouse. Speaking of, what do you want me to call you? My fiancé? Partner? Betrothed?” Lardo rolled their eyes.

 “Partner is cool. We can just keep it that way once we’re married. I’ll probably just call you my partner most of the time too, if you’re cool with that. Husband feels… weird,” they said. Shitty nodded.

 “Works for me. I say we tell Jack and Bitty tonight, we can skype them. You can crash at my place if you want, you know they’re gonna want to talk late. We have a motherfucking wedding to plan!” Shitty grinned as the waiter showed up, plates in hand and a promise of dessert on the house for the newly engaged couple. Lardo smiled sweetly back. This marriage idea seemed like a better and better idea all the time.

[aurelliocheek]

Golden Orb: 21st Century Fairytales

Folklore, apps, Pomeranian – Golden Orb’s way of storytelling in the digital age.

This is where our journey as ­Golden Orb started: Our basic idea was to ­create ­story-driven games with a fresh take on traditional tales by combining folklore with modern-day media. By the time we came up with this plan, we had both been working as professional game developers for several years and for the most part as members of the same team. Therefore, we already knew that we work well together and that our skill sets complement each other ideally. We liked the company we were working for but had both reached a point in our careers where we wanted more than an employed position could offer: Full authority over creative and business model decisions.

We wrote down our business idea, ­calculated all sorts of scenarios, took out a bank loan, and tackled the intimidating amount of paperwork involved with founding a company. The incredible part of the whole process was that once you dare to actively pursue your dream, despite all the risks involved, and share your idea with others, you meet a lot of helpful people and opportunities that you had not even imagined. One of these chance meetings eventually led to us obtaining the Mediengründerzentrum NRW scholarship, which was a big help in our first year of business.

In the tailor shop of Siebenstreich you can find a lot of pop culture references.

Why a Pomeranian? Right from the start, we knew that we wanted to rewrite traditional tales with a modern perspective. It has been a while since they were originally written and a lot has changed in this world since then. In addition to slightly modernizing the tales, we decided that we would like to gently nudge our players towards thinking outside the box, which is why we deliberately break common stereotypes in our stories.

The first tale we picked was the well-known Cinderella story. We decided to re­create it as the digital game equivalent of a picture book. To capture this atmosphere, it features screen-filling, hand-drawn artwork reminiscent of its book counterpart with the addition that the displayed world is fully explorable. The images are not static decoration. You can even leave footprints in the snow or create ripples in the pond. To make it suitable for a very young audience, we omitted any written text and added comprehensive voice over instead. Staying true to our goal of challenging common stereotypes, our Cinderella is not your standard princess material, the castle’s watchdog is a Pomeranian rather than an all-teeth-and-muscles-breed and cross-dressing for the royal wedding is definitely an option.

Playing with clishés: Cinderella

Despite our limited funds, we decided to invest in professional voice acting. As we wanted to recreate the enchanted atmosphere of a radio play or a narrated bedtime story in our game, excellent voice acting was essential. To stay in budget, we created the sound effects ourselves using our imagination paired with our voices and whatever we could find in our homes to generate sound. We then applied our limited audio post-production skills to alter those takes to sound like the effect we were going for. Or as close to that as we could get. Judging from the gleeful squeals of our young playtesters, at the very least we have managed to produce decent animal sounds.

The idea evolves Despite the unconventional watchdog, our adjustments to the Cinderella story were still rather tame. It essentially is an interactive children’s book, and we tried to stay close to the original tale to pass it on to future generations. We just changed some parts to overcome outdated views and tried to fill at least some of the logical gaps of the Cinderella story.

For our upcoming series of adventure games, we take this idea even further. Each title will be based on traditional lore in one way or another, but we will make more liberties in reinterpreting the stories, its characters, and the world they live in. This way, we can incorporate issues and topics that are on people’s minds today, thus creating 21st-century fairytales reminiscent of their literary ancestors. And this makes it a new story even to those familiar with its fairytale blueprint.

So, now we had the idea of what kind of stories we wanted to tell and how we wanted to tell them in our own, unique way. The artistic side covered, we moved on to the business side of things: The exciting endeavor of how to sell fairytale indie games.

Playing against clishés: Siebenstreich

‘The challenge of distribution Of course, almost everyone has a smartphone these days, and most people use it to play games. Also, distribution is straightforward, even in the international field. It is just one more checkbox you have to click, and the game is available in Russia, too. So theoretically you can reach a vast mass of people with the mobile platform without really needing a publisher. That sounded great in the first place and very easy to do. So, we did.

It’s “just” digital Yet a mobile app or game is “just” ­something digital and nothing you can hold in your hands and make it a present. And that was one of our problems. The target group we wanted to reach was the parents and grandparents of small children who want to give their children “a little something.” After all, we had developed an equivalent to a bedtime book, which you discover in the shelf while strolling by and then take it with you spontaneously because it only costs a few Euros and is nicely illustrated. Just a sweet little souvenir for the kids.

Spending a few Euros on a book is standard for most people. But as soon as it is offered in an app store, the price is too high. It does not matter whether the book is read by a top-class actor and is also interactive and animated. It seems like the value of a digital app is not comparable to that of a book. It is similar to magazines and journals: At the shop, one quickly buys a copy for 2€, but almost for the same articles online, the price barrier feels too high for many ­people. The attitude to digital goods seems completely different than to physical products. Even though there is at least as much work in it if not much more, just like in our case.

From mobile fairytales with minigames to a full adventure on Switch and PC.

Long-time, no see There is, of course, also the problem of ­mobile app plethora. Since the distribution is so simple, the market is flooded with products. Even as a niche product with comparatively little competition, we simply did not stand out in the crowd. Because we sell our product for a fixed price, we are usually filtered out right from the start. So, we realized that the target group we wanted to address could not be reached this way. High-quality premium apps are hard to sell. The market thrives on disposable products that finance themselves through mini-payments and advertising.

We have seen children at the age of 2 who were already skilled in waiting for 5 seconds to let the advertising finish up and then clicking on the x to continue the game. Also, we have met parents who believe blindly that the advertising content will be appropriate for the little ones if it is shown in a children’s app. A lot of parents do not care about ads. They do not want to spend money on apps.

But it’s a safe start! Those parents, who want to give their children high-quality, ad-free entertainment, often do not even look for games or apps in the app stores. Probably those are also the parents who prefer not to give their children a device so early whatsoever. And we can fully understand that. That was exactly what we wanted to change with our apps. We still believe that it would be a better way to introduce new media to children without ads and mini-payment options. We love to offer a safe place for young children to experience the first contact with ­mobile devices. There will be a time anyway when they make their first steps with this type of media. So, why not together with their parents with the help of ad-free and ­suitable content?

Besides all the struggle, we still seem to reach a handful of customers who ­appreciate our offer and buy our game. For a premium game in the niche segment, Cinderella does sell somehow. And it still does even a year after its release and without us ever having it advertised. ­Nevertheless, it became clear to us that there had to be better possibilities then scratching money together from the app stores.

Off to new ports Half a year after our mobile release, we ported the game to the Nintendo Switch just for the experience and also to expand our portfolio. We did not hope for much, because we did not necessarily see our target group on a console. Also, our game was not designed as a console game either. But that does not keep others away from the eShop, so why us? And surprisingly we managed to sell Cinderella on the Switch within two weeks more often than on iOS and Android combined in half a year. Of course, we were happy at first, but we also knew that these numbers would decrease significantly after the first peak. Well, they did fall, but much more gently than we had feared. Switch is still our most potent sales platform.

Why is that? That is what we asked ourselves, too. Are there significantly more parents on the Switch than we thought? If you look at the statistics, you will find young players between 7 and 12 and then mostly older ­players over 30. The Switch is an optimal ­family console that is played by both ­parents and children. Also, the price of our game on the console is now suddenly a bargain. The same game at the same ­price on a different platform is rated entirely different by the buyers. 4,99€ in the app stores hardly anyone is willing to pay. But 4,99€ on the Switch? Cheap!

This is amazing, so we made a self-test, and it turned out that we also belong to those people who feel that all games under 15€ on the Switch are cheap and worth “just trying.” If it was a bad buy, then it did not cost that much. We asked ourselves: Would we spend 15€ on an app? Even if it was recommended to us quite often, had a 5-stars rating, we read a lot of positive reviews and watched videos about it? No. We would not. But a switch game without ratings and reviews in the eStore? Sure! It is just crazy.

Who is playing my game? We received some fan mails from Switch players telling us how excited they were about our game. Some of them were parents who bought it for their children, and others were adults who just played it for themselves. So, our porting attempt ­showed us that the Switch is interesting as a platform for fairy tale games regardless of the age group. With this experience, we decided us to entirely focus on this console and leave the mobile market behind us.

Cinderella was primarily designed for small children and mobile devices, now we develop directly for console and want to reach out to adults. This does not mean that we no longer develop games suitable for children, on the contrary. Our fairy tale games are and will be ideal for all children, no matter how old. Our games also will continue to address ethical and social ­topics entertainingly. We continue to ­rethink the content of fairy tales and adapt it to our times, probably way more intensive than we did in Cinderella and with a lot more humor. We want to go a few steps further, inspire and bring joy to as many people as possible. We are on our way to ­making a complex adventure with our current game “Siebenstreich” which will hopefully be even more attractive on the Nintendo Switch.

The future is crowded We wish that the possibility for a visible game release on a family console will persist for some time. More and more developers are discovering the platform for themselves, and it will not be long before this market is flooded as well. There is still the hurdle that devkits have to be purchased. But they are not so expensive, and there are a lot of providers who port games. We will see how the market will develop. But for now, the chances to be visible after ­release are much better than in the mobile market or on Steam. And as long as this market remains a premium market, we ­believe it to be a good alternative for small premium indie games.

Katharina Kühn & Sonja Hawranke Katharina Kühn and Sonja Hawranke are the founders of the indie ­studio Golden Orb. They are working together since 2008. Katharina is the team’s artist and Sonja is their software engineer. They share the role of royal scribe, creating the game design, story, and dialogs as a team.

The post Golden Orb: 21st Century Fairytales appeared first on Making Games.

Golden Orb: 21st Century Fairytales published first on https://leolarsonblog.tumblr.com/

[theliterateape]

Hope Idiotic | Part 14

By David Himmel

Hope Idiotic is a serialized novel. Catch each new part every week on Monday and Thursday.

CHUCK CLAIMED HE WAS ATTENDING AA MEETINGS ON A REGULAR BASIS. So each morning, Melvin stuck his nose right into Chuck’s open mouth and told him to breathe. These closed-door sessions were disguised as short, daily program meetings so as not to drum up any suspicion that something covert was going on. Not that anyone could have guessed that Chuck was allowing his superior to huff his morning breath.

“If he wasn’t such a weirdo, he’d buy a Breathalyzer,” Chuck told Lou over the phone one morning on his drive to work. “We can’t have beers at lunch anymore, and I try to have my last drink by ten so any trace of it is gone by the morning. I also sleep with three Life Saver in my mouth.”

“Aren’t you concerned you’ll choke?”

“Nah. Gina is spending the night pretty regularly. If I choke, she’s there to save me.”

“You could just brush your teeth, floss, use mouthwash. Not drink.”

“Nah.”

“Won’t you eventually have to show Melvin proof that you’re going to the meetings? Don’t they give you a chip or something?”

“I’m going to tell him that I don’t feel AA is right for me, but thanks to his faith and support I’ve been able to kick the bottle. All the guy wants is to be appreciated; feel like he saved someone. I’ll throw some of that bullshit his way.”

“You’re walking a thin line, man. How are things with Gina? Have you heard from Lexi at all?”

Lexi had asked him to lunch on a Saturday. He told her he was working on the magazine. She suggested Sunday. Same excuse. The truth was that he had plans to drive to Joshua Tree National Park with Gina. How about dinner at Bella’s next Monday might? she asked. He couldn’t avoid her forever, and he didn’t want to. There was a part of him that missed the dull sex and the Bible reading at bedtime.

Lexi was wearing new makeup and had a new hairstyle. He told her she looked pretty. She always looked pretty to him, but the makeup and hair, on top of not seeing her for a few months, made her seem like a new woman. It made her exciting to him again.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said.

  “I’ve missed you.”

“If you want… we could… maybe we could see each other again. But take it slow, not rush into anything.”

It was what Chuck hoped she would say. But was it a good idea? What would he do about Gina? She was more or less living with him at the house, and he did not want to slow things down with her. Lexi still had her key and the garage code, and he had just made a key for Gina, who also knew the garage code. As nice as it was having both women around, there was a damn good chance that all of it could blow up in his face.

Maintaining a life of lies wasn’t easy. He had to watch the same romantic comedies twice. He had to regularly think of believable excuses about why either one couldn’t stay at the house. Gina began leaving her preferred groceries at the house, and Chuck would eat everything so that Lexi wouldn’t question why he had a box of Kashi cereal in the cabinet. Gina, then, was confused as to where her food went. She must have eaten it, he told her. Because he would never touch her food. That would be rude. Gina, worried she had developed a sleep-eating disorder, stopped buying groceries for his house. Chuck was, without malice, leading her toward a path of anorexia. But, hey, whatever kept the pantry clean.

Lexi traded the Bible for a libido, but what was even better was that she was still willing to help Chuck out with his finances. Even though his mother’s health was currently stable and wasn’t causing too many additional expenses at the moment, the interest rates on his credit cards and the outstanding medical bills were barely manageable. On top of that, the IRS began garnishing his wages. Because Liberty’s publisher didn’t deduct taxes from Chuck’s paychecks, Chuck chose to just not pay on what he earned. It was a proud stance of libertarianism. He ignored Lou’s and everyone else’s advice against it. “Screw the IRS,” he’d say. It didn’t matter to him that the publisher claimed the payroll and that the IRS would, at some point, come looking for what was due.

With the wage garnishment, Chuck’s take home from Tigris was little more than two-hundred bucks every two weeks. He obviously couldn’t pay any of his bills or rent with money like that. Lexi was giving him between five hundred and one thousand dollars every month. Most of that money went for his mom’s medical bills and to keep the utilities on in the house, put gas in his car and also to buy beer and pay for dates with Gina. He canceled the insurance on his car, stopped making the car-loan payment and quit paying Lou altogether.

Melvin was thrilled with the sobriety illusion Chuck created. Lexi was happy just to be with him and was confident he’d pay her back once his wages were returned to him in a few months. After Gina saw a text message from Lexi show up on Chuck’s phone, she knew the exes were talking again. But he assured her that the conversations were rare and that he wasn’t interested in dating Lexi. He even placated her with the idea of marriage when she brought it up one night over dinner.

He had built a sturdy fortress of bullshit, but cracks were starting to show.

To: kellerinvegas@hotmail.com From: thebergman79@hotmail.com<Louis Bergman> Subject: Rent 

CK– Like I’ve said before… Don’t worry about the rent. I told my grandparents that things are tight for you right now but that we’ll figure something out. They know about your mom and all that, so just pay the utilities and credit card companies. Those fuckers won’t give you a break. Michelle said I ought to evict you. Dad said I shouldn’t do that to a friend. And I never would. So don’t worry about it. Oh, Michelle… Sometimes I think she would have ratted out Anne Frank given the opportunity. What you need to be worried about is this two-timing thing you’ve got going. Even If you’re not worried about it, I sure as hell am, and it’s not making things any easier for me out here. Don’t make me worry about you. I can only barely manage one life going to shit at a time, and I called dibs. –LB

To: thebergman79@hotmail.com From: kellerinvegas@hotmail.com<Chuck Keller> Subject: Re: Rent

Thanks, buddy. I feel terrible about not paying. I should write a letter to your dad and grandpaw. I don’t know what to tell you about Michelle. You love her, so figure it out. Maybe when we get our shit back in order, she’ll be more understanding. Though, I’m not sure that’s fair. Taking the good with the bad and all that. I gotta get out of here. I’m about to fucking crack. This place is too hot for me right now. Nothing can go on the back burner because I’ve gone and set the goddamn kitchen on fire. Not your kitchen. You know what I mean. I need to figure this out. And I need to do it before I burn the whole fucking house down. And probably the block. I’m sorry. That probably made you worry. I’m a terrible friend. Everything will be fine. Everything. Just need some time and space to cool out.

✶

HE LEFT WORK EARLY ON THURSDAY AND TOOK FRIDAY AS A VACATION DAY. He told Lexi and Gina that he would be working all weekend and couldn’t see them.

He swung by the house, changed clothes, packed a small bag with clean underwear, a toothbrush and half a dozen bottles of beer from the fridge, threw it in his car and took off up U.S. 95 northbound.

The only predetermined direction was straight. When he finished the six beers, he pulled into a gas station a few miles outside of the city limits and purchased a case of cans. He cracked the first one before pulling out of the parking lot. By the time he hit Tonopah, he was out of gas and nearly out of beer. While the BMW drank in the unleaded, Chuck purchased another case, a pack of cigarettes and a bag of beef jerky

“Are you sure you’re alright to be on the road tonight?” the clerk at the gas station asked.

“On the road is the only way to be alright.” Then he laughed. He took his change and handed it to the old woman with translucent blue hair sitting at the video slot machine near the door. “Take the change and flee!” He stormed out with the case under his arm and stuffed the pack of smokes and lighter into his mouth. He lit up before the gas finished pumping.

Chuck aimed the BMW to Highway 6 toward Warm Springs and onto the Extraterrestrial Highway. This stretch of road had long been his place of solace. Before heading north up to Hiko, he yanked the car onto the shoulder, threw it in park, grabbed the case of beer and climbed onto the roof. He lay on his back drinking while he looked for UFOs. The stars began to blur and spin in unusual patterns against the Earth’s rotation. Chuck’s beer-filled brain was in retrograde and to him, everything looked like a spaceship racing across the sky.

“E.T.!” he shouted into the blackness. “I see you. Can you see me? Come on down. I have a beer for you. You’ll like it. It’s from a place called Milwaukee.”

✶

HE WOKE UP ON A SMALL COT SHOVED INTO A CORNER INSIDE OF A SMALL, CIGARETTE-SMOKE-STAINED ROOM. His glasses were on a rickety nightstand. Someone entered the room; a woman. She handed his glasses to him.

She was a petite, but big-breasted, blond Asian. “Am I dead?” Chuck asked.

“Hardly,” she said. “But I thought we might have to have your stomach pumped.”

“Where am I?”

“Starlight Ranch, sweetie. Do you remember me?”

“Fuck.” The Starlight Ranch was a whorehouse in Lund, a small town just outside of the Humboldt-Toiyabe National Forrest. “I’m sure my wallet will.”

“Unfortunately not. You didn’t want to party last night. I thought maybe you’d be up for it this morning.”

“So we didn’t?”

“Not yet.” She took a seat next to him on the bed and stroked his thigh over his jeans. “You kept mumbling something about too many pussies.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“And you kept buying drinks for an imaginary alien you said you found on the highway. One of our regulars tried to drink one of the beers you bought, but you threatened to kill him and anyone else who touched the beers. There are about thirteen or so glasses of warm beer waiting for you out there on the bar.”

“That sounds about right, too. I’m impressed we didn’t screw last night. You’re the woman of my dreams. I love Asian women. And blondes. And tits.”

“You called me your Zipper-Eyed Angel last night.”

Chuck laughed. “Sorry about that.”

“I’ve been called worse. Other than that, you were a total gentleman. Even ran a good couple games of pool and had the whole place dancing to the jukebox.”

“Were there a lot of people here?”

“Maybe a dozen. Mostly us girls.”

She and Chuck moved out to the bar. He grabbed one of the alien’s beers and chugged it down. She sat on a stool.

“What did you say your name was?” Chuck said.

“Starla.”

“Your real name.”

“Dakota.”

“Your real name.”

“Dakota. I’m a first generation. My parents were living in Sioux Falls at the time.”

“Jesus, that’s awful. Chinese?”

“Yes.”

“What were two Chinese immigrants doing in Sioux Falls?”

“Laundry business. Only Asian dry cleaners in the whole state. The newspaper even did a story about it.”

“Asians in Sioux Falls. Can’t say I would run that story.”

“Are you a newspaper man?”

“I’m the editor of a magazine. Back in Vegas.”

“What brought you out here?”

“Escape.”

“What from?”

“I don’t think my alien friend is going to claim these beers,” he told the bartender, a grizzled older woman. “You can toss them. I would love a fresh one, though.” He turned back to the Asian in response to her question. “What from? Everything. The job. The girls. The boss. The family.”

“The big city life, huh?”

“All I’ve ever wanted was to be able to take care of the people I care about. And I can’t do that. I’m actually hurting them.”

“My mom is sick. Heart problems. I put myself in the poorhouse taking care of her medical bills, which I can’t afford anymore. Can’t afford rent to my best buddy whose house I’m living in, the IRS is taking my wages for back taxes, and I’m letting my ex-girlfriend pay for all of it right now. At the same time, I’m also dating this other girl. My boss demanded I go into AA, which I’m obviously not doing, and generally, I’ve just sort of fucked myself. Because on top of the magazine, which is probably going to shut down if I don’t actually get back to working on it and get it out on time each month, I have a full-time day gig at the Tigris. That’s the boss who wants me in AA. And that job: all the corporate nonsense, the micro-managing, the fluorescent lighting, the mandatory meetings that accomplish nothing… I’m just not doing anything right. And I don’t know why. But it all started out with the best of intentions.”

Dakota ordered a club soda.

“All I’ve ever wanted was to be able to take care of the people I care about. And I can’t do that. I’m actually hurting them. And that makes it worse. And I worry about my mom — both of my parents, really. And my brother… They’re so helpless and stupid. Just dull and shiftless. Wasting days in Indiana. My best pal, the one whose house I’m living in, is in Chicago living with a girl who he loves but is just so hard on him. And he’s unemployed and frustrated and not doing so hot either. And I know I’m making things worse for him by not paying him rent and… Ah, fuck it. It’s all a mess. Christ, I’m talking a lot. I must not be drunk enough to shut up.”

“So you ran away from it all.”

“I needed an escape. Don’t we all need to escape sometimes?”

“I suppose so. But blowing a thousand bucks on booze at a cathouse hundreds of miles from home isn’t helping.”

“It clears my mind.”

“Bullshit.”

“It is. But it’s something. It’s something else. A good long drive always does me good. Maybe I’ll figure it out on the drive back.” He signaled the bartender for another round. “Are you drinking?” he asked Dakota.

“No, thank you. You seem like a sweet guy. But intentions, well, they’re just that. I lived in Vegas for a few years after leaving Sioux Falls. I needed to get away from that life. It was too slow. There wasn’t enough action; I needed to make something of myself. But I always had every intention of going back home at some point. Then I met a guy, and things went bad, and I had to leave. And I ended up here. I haven’t seen or spoken to my family in years. I don’t even have any real friends. I made the real escape.”

“And are you okay with your life now?”

“I’m fine with it. I think that before I was always hurting. And I haven’t hurt since I’ve been here. No one knows me, and I don’t know anyone. These other girls, my boss, they’re just co-workers. I get paid to create human interaction. It’s all business; there are no real feelings attached to any of it. I make people happy, if only for an hour and for whatever reason they want to feel happy for. Maybe they’re tired of being by themselves in the cabs of their trucks. Maybe they’re not getting any physical affection at home. Maybe they’re too socially fucked up to meet women in their real life. Maybe they like the fantasy of a Chinese girl with big tits. But I escaped because I was hurting all of the time. And I was hurting my parents with my behavior. I’ve seen all the hurt I ever want to see. Personally, anyway. Now I just provide relief. Or that one thing every one of us wants.”

“And what’s that? Happiness?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“Well, I never hurt my parents.”

“This isn’t a pissing contest. I’m just telling you that everybody hurts, and that this escape of yours, it’s not going to stop that.”

“‘Everybody hurts.’ Are you quoting R.E.M. now?”

“What’s R.E.M.?”

“The band. They had that song, ‘Everybody Hurts.’”

“Never heard of them. Don’t know it. Listen, why don’t you come back to my room with me.”

“I can’t. I have to draw the line somewhere.”

Dakota leaned in and whispered in his ear, “A blowjob on the house won’t hurt anything. As long as my boss doesn’t find out.” 

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX Part X Part 11 Part 12

[weholyperfectioncollectorme-blog]

CAR ACCIDENT INSURANCE QUESTION- Canada- Who’s Responsible?

"CAR ACCIDENT INSURANCE QUESTION- Canada- Who's Responsible?

Last night I was at a convenience store parked (private property) and a young idiot backed into my car! Im not going to go on about how he jumped out and almost attacked me even!! But long story short we traded insurance info and today I got 3 quotes.     So I called him to say I have the cheapest quote for the damage ($1000-$2100 they range from). I said he can pay $1000.00 then cause he told me last night he would.    Well today he is claiming HE NEVER HIT ME!!  The car full of teenagers he was with, and his mother who showed up to help him last night are denying it too cause he doesn't want to pay.     (The owner of the store did not witness it happen but ran out when he heard me hoking and saw the boys car smashed into mine after the fact. And saw him yelling and freaking. Which might help?)    So I haven't heard back from my Insurance yet but I just want to ask SOMEBODY PLEASE WHO MIGHT KNOW. Wont the insurance pay for it? His insurance or mine?  What is the laws of private property?

BEST ANSWER:  Try this site where you can compare quotes: : http://freeautoinsurance.xyz/index.html?src=tumblr 

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I am living with my boyfriend for a year can I go on his health insurance

What is the cheapest way to get insured on a Ford Fiesta 1.2 for an 18 year old?

Hey, I just passed my driving test and the trouble is insurance :( I've found the perfect car for me which is a Ford fiesta 1.25 studio, 2006 model which has done 49000 miles and is valued at 3800 pounds. The insurance is nearly triple the amount of the car which is something I simply cannot pay. I was considering coverbox or insure the box but I'm not too sure. I've been researching online for a good few months now and all price comparison websites and insurers' websites seem to be suggesting the same price. So please if you know how to get cheap car insurance for a 18 male who has 0 months no claims, I would appreciate your help :)""

Buy a car? No License or insurance?

Is it possible for me to buy a car with no license or insurance and have my dad drive it back to the house and keep it there? I dont intend on driving it untill i get it all sorted, i just want the satisfaction on knowing its there and its mine. Im from the UK""

What is the average car insurance rate for a 17 year old female?

In the state of Michigan I just want to know what is the average car insurance rate for a 17 year old female. I am just getting my license in November,/December I won't be getting a vehicle until next April.""

""My husband and I are looking for life insurance but dont know the diffrence in term life, accidental and whole?

My husband is only 24 but was just diagnosed with Hep C.

How does an Insurance Claim work?

How does an insurance claim work. Let's say I get up one morning walk outside and my car has been stolen? The police come out and take a report, then they leave. How long would it take insurance cover this and how much would they cover? For example, if I have a car that I'm financing that is worth $24,500.00 dollars that had full insurance coverage. Basically, how does it work? Since it's being financed, I'm sure the insurance company would pay out the remaining balanced owed on the car to satisfy the loan with the finance company but what happens to me afterwards? Lets say I have $100,000 dollars in coverage that covers me in case of theft or something like that. Being that the car was fully covered and insurance was able to pay back the loan, would they give me the money to buy a new car at equal or face value of the car that was stolen? Insurance is so friggin complicated...if someone could explain the process to me I'd appreciate it.""

What's the best and cheapest Insurance Company for Motorcycles?

I want to buy a 2007 Honda CBR1000RR. I live in Georgia. I was quoting online and the prices are insane!!! I could buy a Range Rover with those monthly payments!!!

""16, got a car brought for me.. can anyone help me with an insurance question?""

i'm 17 in 3 weeks.. and my parents brought me a car, it has no insurance but we need to get it back to my house. as i'm only 16, does it have to be on my parents insurance until my birthday?""

I'm confused about primary and secondary health insurance?

My daughter is on my policy, where all of the payments come out of a fund set at the beginning of the year, so if it is $1,000 that can be wiped out by one trip to the ER. Also, she is on her father's plan which is a taditional co-pay plan. Would it work out to my advantage to use his at primary and mine as secondary? Can the co-pay requirement from his insurance be paid from my plan?""

Car insurance for teenagers?

Im 18 and I own a used car. Never a trouble maker. I have a part time job. I want to know what insurance I can get for my car that is affordable.

My car insurance renewal is due next week can anyone suggest cheap?

I'ave got 3 years no claim bounus my old insurare is asking 392

How to buy car insurance and get license plate?

I decide to buy a used car but I do not know how I am supposed to buy the insurance and get a plate? My friend told me to get some information about the car, get a quote from the insurance, purchase the insurance and get the place, then go see the seller to complete the trade. Is that correct? If it is, what kind of information do I need to get from the seller to buy insurance? My other friend who bought a car from a dealer said after buying the car he was given a temporary plate, then he went to buy insurance and got the plate later. So can anyone show me step by step how to purchase insurance and get the license plate? Thank you.""

Insurance will only cover 1000$ of dental issues?

My friend's parents haven't taken her to the dentist in 10 years. Now she has 21 cavities. She says that it will cost 6000$ and insurance will only cover 1000$. Is there anyway she can separate the fillings so that insurance will pay (almost) all of it?

Can my ex-wife insure our kids through her husbands insurance?

My ex-wife is required to carry our kids insurance. She switched jobs and is now insuring kids under her husband. My only concern is, if he decides to leave her or gets pissed off he can drop my kids from insurance. Since he is not legally obligated to insure them. He is not adopting them. He is not legally bound to take care of them. Is my concern valid?""

What's a good sport bike for a new rider? ?

I know motorcycles aren't safe no matter what but what's an affordable bike for a new rider. I really want something as light as possible. How much is insurance? I don't know anything about bikes but I've always wanted one. Never even rode or drove one.

""I need a lot of dental work done and I don't have money for insurance, is there any programs or something I can sign up for?""

I was robbed at a job and got a tooth broke in half and I admit I never took care of my teeth as well as I should have, between our new baby and our bills I can't really afford Insurance or financing. i really just need a second chance, i feel like it holds me back from getting promoted and making a good first impression and id really like a better smile all around. is there any programs or something I can sign up for? I'd prefer for it to not be at the tax payers expense but I'm not above it. I live in california if that matters, thank you""

Car insurance for the clueless 19 year old :/?

I'm nervous about getting car insurance but I honestly need to get my foot in the door. Now give it to me straight guys, how high can it go if I'm nineteen years old, male, never been in an accident, had my licence since may, plan on getting a 90s car or EARLY 2000, and only plan to use it for really just going to work and such. :/ I feel like its going to skyrocket...just because I have a penis. Man when they told me that I thought about being arrested for being black on a friday afternoon on a wednsday :/ So how low can car insurance get?""

How can I buy home insurance if I use one room for my business?

Hello there! I am a freelance web publisher so basically I work from home using my laptop. My husband and I just bought our first home. The other day I was shopping around for home insurance when an agent told me if I run my home business many carriers will mark me as not eligible for home insurance. Is this true? How do I get around that? What's the best home insurance company?

Are SUVs more expensive to insure?

I know you can't tell me for sure whether or not one will be more expensive. But, generally speaking is a small SUV such as a Ford Escape more expensive to insure than say a midsized car like a Honda Accord.""

How much does type of car vary the insurance rate?

I am 18 and am going to be licensed in about a month or so. I am thinking about buying a first car but I'm just wondering out of curiousity, how much would insuring a 2002 BMW cost more than let's say...a 2002-2004 Honda Civic? I'm looking at the civic but if they are in the same price range, I would rather buy the BMW. Yes, I know about the Honda gets 50 mpg and BMW will cost more to maintain, etc, etc but I'm just wondering, would BMW insurance cost a lot more for a old model?""

I'm 17 years old looking for a car with cheap insurance?

I have 3,000 and I'm looking for a manual car that's somewhat fast I don't want a super slow car and I know I can't find a super fast one either but something kinda fast in the price range and not a but load for insurance""

Can I save money by canceling my insurance and just driving my girlfriends car?

I got a DUI earlier this year, and naturally, my insurance rates went way up. I'm getting ready to move in with my girlfriend, and we are planning on selling one of the cars. If I sell my car, couldn't I just drive her car and not have to pay the high insurance rates? This seems underhanded and like I'm cheating the system. What are the rules and stipulations with this sort of situation.""

How To Get The Insurance Brokers Licensec?

How to get the insurance brokers licensec? Is anyone could give me website?

CAR ACCIDENT INSURANCE QUESTION- Canada- Who's Responsible?

Last night I was at a convenience store parked (private property) and a young idiot backed into my car! Im not going to go on about how he jumped out and almost attacked me even!! But long story short we traded insurance info and today I got 3 quotes.     So I called him to say I have the cheapest quote for the damage ($1000-$2100 they range from). I said he can pay $1000.00 then cause he told me last night he would.    Well today he is claiming HE NEVER HIT ME!!  The car full of teenagers he was with, and his mother who showed up to help him last night are denying it too cause he doesn't want to pay.     (The owner of the store did not witness it happen but ran out when he heard me hoking and saw the boys car smashed into mine after the fact. And saw him yelling and freaking. Which might help?)    So I haven't heard back from my Insurance yet but I just want to ask SOMEBODY PLEASE WHO MIGHT KNOW. Wont the insurance pay for it? His insurance or mine?  What is the laws of private property?

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/blue-cross-shield-alabama-health-insurance-quotes-noah-mason/"

[darklingichor]

Gilmore Girls Ep. 18-20

Racing the storm here but I wanted to get episodes 18, 19, and 20 out of the way. I am terming these three episodes “The Rage Trilogy”. If ever there was a time that I was going to turn this show off and curse the creators’ names to the muses Calliope and Thalia* it was when I was watching these episodes. However, I am not going to beaten by a show where two of the most emotionally stable people are a couple who needed cooking oil to get their 30-something cat out from under the house.

*The Greek muses of epic poetry and comedy. Those names have been rattling around in my head since I took a Greek history class and I finally get to use them. All right! My student loan debt is justified!

Episode 18 – Again, let get the stuff out of the way that I liked. I liked that Paris went to Rory for her date prep. Paris has a kind of vulnerability and I think that Rory is good for her. Much better than the bubble-head twins. I get why Paris was angry when she found out that Rory talked Tristan into going out with her. Rory was playing a dangerous game there; all be it a well-intentioned one. But, you can’t tell me the that Tristan was innocent. If that douche canoe didn’t realize that that information would upset Paris, I am seriously doubting the education these kids are getting. I liked Emily being twisted up by her mother- in- law. I loved any scene with Michel. Ditto for anything Sookie says. That’s it.

The rest – yeah, so wanted to slap everyone and it was exacerbated by the fact that this episode has NO LUKE.

I couldn’t get mad about Trix. She’s the standard stock rich relative/ mother-in-law character you see in every show. Annoying, but to be expected. But Emily and Lorelai? They need a fucking time-out.

Frist off, can Emily be more manipulative?  Planting all of those doubts in Lorelai’s head because she didn’t want to lose her hold on her? This just confirms what I’ve been thinking for a while. Those dinners might as well be hostage situations!

Seriously, she’s acting like a Bond villain. I’m half expecting her to shackle Lorelai and Rory to the dinner table and announce that the Friday Night Dinners were really just a ploy to get the secret stash of plutonium that is located under Stars Hollow and Sookie’s Magic Risotto recipe. The cost of Chilton was a small price to pay for world domination and risotto based immortality!

Emily would rather ruin her granddaughter’s opportunity for a comfortable future just so she can continue to erode her daughter’s self-worth? No wonder Lorelai would only spend time with her if she had to. Why would anyone willingly submit to that kind of abuse? It’s like paying for someone to continuously kick you in the head when that really isn’t your thing.

Emily’s about 85% evil, we knew this; and while it is frustrating to see her emotionally flip-flop like a dying carp, I should expect her to be a raging bitch. However, this is the first time I’ve been pissed at Lorelai.

I knew she could be selfish, but I didn’t know she could be THIS selfish. She knows that Rory wouldn't blow through the trust fund money but she doesn’t want to take it because she doesn’t want Rory to leave?

WHAT?

I mean, I get it, I’m supposed to see a parallel between Lorelai and Emily, but it’s stupid!

One, at this point she and Rory have a good relationship. Rory would have no reason to run away like Lorelai did. Two, so what if Rory goes to Europe without her? Yeah, it would suck and it would hurt but that is not a reason to turn down the opportunity to have your daughter’s schooling paid for!

“Let’s not set up your future, Rory because I might be left out when you go have fun.”

Yeah, that’s not irresponsible and absolutely trucks with the character who is putting her mental health at risk so her kid can have the best education she can get. I’m surprised Sookie didn’t slap her and tell her to get her head out of her ass!

This episode was insane and put me on a low simmer, the next episode turned up the heat.

Episode 19 – This episode should have been called Lorelai is the Victim of Passive-Aggressive Behavior. Granted after the last episode I was almost willing to see it, but it wore pretty thin.

What is with this Rachel chick? Why did she put a picture of Lorelai and Luke in front of them and ask Luke entrapment questions? Does she think she’s being subtle? Just talk to your boyfriend! Though I did like that she seems to appreciate that Lorelai puts the effort in to keep her and Luke together.

As before, prior to getting to the part that made smoke come out of my ears, I’ll look at the happy making stuff.  

If Rune is going to be a reoccurring character, I hope we get more back and forth between him and Michel. A sarcastic desk clerk and a humorless handy-man? I smell a sitcom!

As always Sookie was adorable and so was Lane.

I loved that Rachel took Lorelai to The Dragonfly and that Lorelai and Sookie are envisioning the future.

The back and forth between Luke and Lorelai was gold, but he is doing a poor job of hiding how desperately in love with her he is. It is also sweet that we get more glimpses into Luke’s sentimental side. He lives in his dad’s old office, and I am willing to bet that those frilly curtains were picked out by his mom, grandmother, or sister.

And now, another look at Emily’s “How Petty Can I Be?” log.

See that daughter lived in a shed with granddaughter. Rather than examine why my teenaged daughter with a baby found this preferable to living with me, spend hundreds if not thousands of dollars to design granddaughter a room. This room is not a good-will gesture, the purpose is to encourage a rift between daughter and granddaughter.

Petty Level: 2000

Excellent.

Seriously, is Emily twelve years old?! Think about the concentrated passive aggressiveness it took to make that room just to shove the past in Lorelai’s face. It is almost frightening.

You know, I thought she was being sweet at first? I figured that Rory already had a room at her grandparent’s house. Seemed reasonable in a house that big. I thought that seeing where they use to live made Emily think that since she can’t go back in time and make Lorelai comfortable, she could make Rory comfortable. This was why I think it was weird for Lorelai. Everything in her childhood had to be a reflection of Emily. I got that idea early on. At the twin wedding when she relates to the little girl who was told that she couldn’t mess up her dress. She couldn’t be herself. I would put money on the idea that those posters up in Lorelai’s room lead to an argument between her and Emily. So the fact that Emily decorated a room to Rory’s taste was unexpected. She even apologized for not being more delighted.

But no, this wasn’t a nice thing for Rory, this was yet another way to rag on her daughter. I get it, she was hurt by the fact that Lorelai ran away and would have rather lived in a shed. But shouldn’t she have asked herself why?

Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t all Emily and Richard’s fault but instead of just throwing up her hands and declaring that Lorelai is unfathomable and her actions insane, maybe look at why a little rich girl would rather be a maid and work her ass off to support herself and her kid, than live at home where all of her and her baby’s needs will be met. Could it possibly have anything to do with how you treated her? And the fact that she didn’t want you to treat her daughter that way?

Add to this that Emily seems to have a long-term plan to drive a wedge between Lorelai and Rory so Lorelai can be hurt like she was. This is really sinister considering she’s doing this shit to hurt her daughter and isn’t considering the fact that her granddaughter will be hurt too.

At this point, I hate her so much and am trying to figure out if we later find out that she has been a serial killer all this time because these are the actions of someone who is calculating enough to be criminally insane!

Episode 20 – Although there were parts that I really liked in this episode (Lorelai buying Rachel’s presents and clothes for Luke) I’m not even going to look at them because this episode turned me into angry Hades from Disney’s Hercules.

Okay, Rory’s stressed. I don’t do romantic relationships but I understand that one ending is devastating, especially for a teenager. I was the organizer of too many ice cream sessions and on the other end of the phone for too much sobbing (all the while planning the downfall of the person who made my friend cry like that) not to know that heartbreak feels like it sounds.

She was at her breaking point, I understand. That being said, here’s how that situation would have gone if I were Lorelai.

Rory left without leaving a note, which is something weird for her. Sure we argued but my first thought would not be that she left, my first thought would have been that she didn’t make it home. Cops would have been called.

I would have asked Max if anything happened at school. He would have told me about him butting in. I would put a pin in that and talk to him about it later.

The conversation with Emily would have ended with me talking to Rory because I would not have put up with that smug, self-satisfied tone and her telling me I can’t talk to my kid.

After talking to Rory and telling her she can stay the night if she wants (she needs to cool down), and calling the cops and my search party to let them know that she’s safe, my next call would be to Trix.

I would tell her that Emily crossed a line, that I no longer want to be indebted to her. Talk her around, it won’t be hard considering how much Trix doesn’t like Emily.

The trust fund would be set up under the condition that only money for school related costs can be taken out for the first year, this includes paying Emily and Richard the loan back.

When Rory came home: I would talk to her. Tell her that Max was way out of line talking to her about Dean. (Seriously, does this man not understand “time and place”?) That I was sorry for not telling her about Max. She can talk about Dean if she needs to and that I understand she’s hurting and that she needed space.

However, you do not just run off! You leave a note; you make a call. I don’t care if we had an argument. I don’t care if you lost your voice and your fingers fell off, send a telegram with your nose if you have to just get in touch.

Then, Grounded into Oblivion.

At least when Lane went out she didn’t leave town and was planning on coming home.

As soon as everything with the trust fund was set up I would call Emily and tell her that because she thought it was her right to almost gleefully (she really sounded happy, it was disgusting) deny me the ability to talk to my daughter while I cried from absolute terror, the agreement was canceled, the dinners would stop and a check would be in the mail.

I would also tell her that while I wouldn’t keep her from seeing Rory, she better damn well understand that it is not within her rights to call the shots when it comes to her. For as long as Rory is grounded, Emily and Richard can come to Stars Hollow but they will respect me in my own house or out they go.

This episode made me so angry. I hate the fact that both Rory and Emily got out of this consequence free. I hate the fact that Lorelai was never told that Max talked to Rory.  I hate the fact Max butting into Rory’s personal life, in school no less, didn’t lead to an argument between him and Lorelai. That was really inappropriate and certainly not something the mother’s “kinda, sorta boyfriend” should do.

I hate the fact that even in Lorelai’s little love speech it still came off that it the break up was Rory’s fault. Dean gets off the hook ‘cause he says he loves her? Um, no. He was the asshole’s asshole. You don’t pressure someone like that and then dump them because you tried to dictate their emotions and it didn’t work. That’s a really nasty thing to do and you don’t get to be the victim because you “love” them.

Doesn’t anyone get that if Rory would have said it back after all of the pressure he put on her, it wouldn’t have counted? It is like a confession given under duress, meaningless. And the people who forced the confession, way out of line.

Seriously, I was ready to give up on the show after this episode, I was that pissed. However, I do like the other characters and would like to see how it pans out. I also figure it couldn’t have gone seven seasons and gotten a revival if one of the main characters were consistently and delightedly evil all of the time.

Tomorrow is the last episode of the season and then: Once more into the breech for Season Two.

[konglindorm]

I first read Prince Lindworm in a collection of Scandinavian fairy tales illustrated by Kay Nielsen, who, by the way, is awesome. The problem here is that it was a later edition of the book. At some point, I don’t remember why, I got super into finding out the history of Prince Lindworm. See, it was in this book, which was supposed to be stories from Asbjornsen and Moe. Those are the big Norwegian fairy tale dudes, for those of you who don’t know. But I’m a little obsessive about my fairy tales. You may have noticed. And this book wasn’t even mine. It belonged to my grandparents. So of course I had my own Asbjornsen and Moe anthology. Or two. Maybe three. And I kind of kept buying these books because I wanted my own copy of this one wacky story. But it wasn’t there. So I googled the complete works of Asbjornsen and Moe. It wasn’t there. I took advantage of my university’s interlibrary loan system to request every single book in the country that mentioned lindworms. Or lindorms. Or lindwyrms, or a variety of other spellings. Have I mentioned that I’m a little obsessive about my fairy tales? Several other books and authors and random people on the internet attributed the story to Asbjornsen and Moe. Who definitely didn’t record it. The reason for this, as far as I can tell? This book my grandparents had, really nice hardcover, fancy publisher, gorgeous illustrations—it was kind of a big deal. All sorts of people had read the story in this book, and only this book, and assumed the information provided was reliable. And here’s where the publishers went wrong. There’s an editor’s note in the front. It explains that all but two of the stories in the volume are from one particular translation of the works of Asbjorsen and Moe. What they apparently neglected to mention is that one of those two stories was not only from a different translator, but a different source entirely. So Prince Lindworm didn’t come from Norway. That’s settled. And, okay, I don’t know what to tell you about the one random outlier in my interlibrary loan adventure that said the story was from Sweden, but I’ve got this worked out. Really, it could have been worse. When I wanted to read the earliest recorded version of Beauty and the Beast, and I couldn’t track down a translation anywhere, I spent months tearing the internet apart before I found a copy that was clearly printed well over one hundred years ago, given the spelling and lettering, in French, scanned in and saved as a pdf. I still have that saved on my computer somewhere. Given that I don’t know any French, dictionaries only provided modern spellings, and any given character could easily have been three to six different letters in that typeface, the several months I spend attempting to translate didn’t really get me anywhere. I don’t think I even translated the first paragraph successfully. I did a little better with Prince Lindworm. It still took me a couple months to find the text, and it was still a crappy pdf with outdated spelling. Plus it was in Danish. But the lettering was slightly more modern, and I happen to be much better at slogging my way through Danish than French. A little bit of Norwegian, a little bit of Anglo-Saxon, a tiny bit of German. It’ll get you places. Sadly, my extensive background in Latin was utterly useless to French. (And Spanish. It seems my teachers lied to me. I strongly suspect Romani and Portuguese would also be a bust, but at least I can stumble blindly through basic Italian.) It was, when I found it, three or four pages of a quite large collection. I haven’t gotten into the rest of it yet—soon, hopefully. Gamle dansk Minder i folkemunde, it’s called.  I’m good at general ideas in Germanic languages, not so much actual translations, so bear with me here, but I’m going to tentatively call this “Old Danish Memories from the Mouths of the People.” Sounds better it Danish, right? This is why I keep my translations to myself. The compiler of this book is listed as Svend Grundtvig, and he’s generally known for collecting Danish folk songs, but as far as I can tell, in my admittedly spotty Danish comprehension, there’s no music for this one. And, okay, I know I talk a lot about how stories, especially folk stories, don’t belong to anyone, because they’re so mutable, because a story is really a community, a conversation. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know where the conversation started. For crying out loud, people, cite your sources! I dedicated months of my life to this. Do you have any idea how many utterly worthless books I had to read in search of some tiny hint of origins? How many incorrect attributions I had to read? How much respect I lost for researchers in this field in general? Look, sometimes tracking down crap pdfs of source material can be fun, okay? I love pulling random linguistic data from obscure folklore and stuff like that. But really. Really. How hard can it possibly be to say, “hey, this historically and culturally significant story that I’m making a profit on because it’s been in the public domain for a hundred years originally came from Denmark”? There is no excuse not to give fairy tales the correct attribution. Like, anthology and picture book based fairy tales have got to be the easiest writing to make a profit on.  The story has been marinating in your brain forever, right? Do you even remember a time before you knew Cinderella? Just tell it in your own words, and someone else will come along and slap some beautiful illustrations on, and you’re good to go. It costs five minutes and zero dollars to add in a little note saying, “This adaptation was inspired by the French version of the story as recorded by Charles Perrault.” But no, that’s too much work for you. Instead you’ll just go and publish a wildly popular book that heavily implies incorrect information, and let it spin wildly out of control until poor innocent college kids are staying up all night on the internet reading languages they don’t understand and enlisting the help of just about every library in the continental United States. Ugh. Anyway, Grundtvig is a really awesome dude who absolutely knows how to cite his stories. Kong Lindorm was told in 1854 by Maren Mathisdatter, age 67, in Fureby. It was recorded by Adjunct A. Levisen. See? Was that so hard? Remember to come and read my version on Patreon next month.