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federationsound · 4 years ago

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Federation Invasion #500 (Dancehall Reggae Megamix) 03.24.21

Fade Away. Junior Byles

Jah Glory - Glen Washington

Why Be Afraid - Tony Rebel

Ghetto People Song - Everton Blender

Are You Satisfied - Ras Shiloh

Never Dis the Man - Sanchez

In This Together - Luciano, Louie Culture & Terror Fabulous

I Wonder - Sizzla

Good Ways - Sizzla

Never Give Jah Up - Sugar Minott

Jah Jah Bless Me - Jah Cure

Earth a Run Red - Richie Spice

Lots of Sign - Tenor Saw

Declaration of Rights - Freddie Mcgregor

Created by the Father - Dennis Brown

Punchline - Luciano

Who I Am - Capleton

Praise Ye Jah - Sizzla

Praise Him - Sanchez

Seek God - Bounty Killer

Kette Drum- Determine & Beenie Man

Think You Have It All - Shabba Ranks

Jah Jah City - Capleton

Love The Solution - Jah Cure

Liberation - Morgan Heritage

2) Badman Tunes

Gangsters Anthem - Terror Fabolous

Bogus Badge - Louie Culture

Murderer - Barrington Levy & Beenie Man

Respect - Shabba Ranks

No Threat - Coco Tea

Sail - Wayne Wonder

The Test - Spragga Benz

Gundelero - Cobra

Bandelero - Pinchers

Carpenter - Pinchers

Find and Kill - Cobra

Narrow Escape - Capleton

Top a Top - Bounty Killer

Shine & Criss - Shabba Ranks

Mi Gun Talk - Terry Ganzie

Yu Think A Little Gun - Cobra

Whoa - Cobra

Down in the Ghetto - Bounty Killer

Action Speak Louder Then Words - Bounty Killer

War - Bounty Killer

Gun Man Tune - Panhead

Dead This Time - Bounty Killer

New Gun - Bounty Killer

Lodge - Bounty Killer

Gun

Bad Man - Assassin

Crime - Cobra

3) Bounty Killer / Beenie Man

Long or Tall - Bounty Killer

Make It Tan So Den - Beenie Man

Not Another Word - Bounty Killer

Mobster - Beenie Man

War Beyond The Stars - Bounty Killer

Any Mr. Man - Beenie Man

Dunns River Fall - Bounty Killer & Scare Dem Crew

Wicked Man - Beenie Man

Spy Fi Die - Bounty Killer

Dem Nuh Have No Heart - Bounty Killer

It's A Wonder - Beenie Man & Risto Benji

Memories (Stop Live In The Past) - Beenie Man

Suspence - Bounty Killer

Dengue Fever (- Beenie Man

Ask Fi War - Bounty Killer

Benz & the Bimma - Bounty Killa

Girls Dem Way - Beenie Man

Stucky - Bounty Killer

One Of Us - Ghost & Beenie Man

Mi Heartbeat - Bounty Killer

Slam - Beenie Man

4) 90’s / 2000’s Juggling

Desperate Measures - Baby Cham

Blazing - Surprize / Wayne Wonder

Magnum - Spragga Benz Introducing Twice

Bad Mind - Tony Curtis

Let Dem Have It - Merciless

Opportunity - Buju Banton

Dark Glass - Beenie Man & Goofy

Warlord - Bounty Killer

Shotta - Boom Dandimite

Soco Numa - Buccaneer

Mega Nitro Mix - Bounty Killer

Fed Up - Bounty Killer

Bad Mind Ago Kill Dem - Capleton

Wha Dat Fa - Baby Cham

Step It Up - Baby Cham & Frankie Sly

The Return - Baby Cham

Middle Fingers In The Air - Baby Cham

Mi See It - Frankie Sly

We Are Jamaicans - Shaggy

Caught In A The West - Bounty Killer

Quarter To Twelve - Simpleton

Anti Christ - Captian Barkey

God Bless - Shabba Ranks

Dun Wife - Cobra

Peanut Punch - Fabby Dolly

5) Dancing

Do The Reggay - Toots & The Maytals

Della Move - Admiral Bailey

Duck - Red Dragon

Stuck - Early Black

World Dance - Beenie man

Tatie - Snagga Puss

Dance The Angel - Harry Toddler

Bogle - Buju Banton

Butterfly - Jigsy King & Tony Curtis

All About Dancing - Tony Matterhorn

Row Like A Boat - Beenie Man

Higher Level - Elephant Man

Pon De River - Elephant Man

Skip To Ma Luu - Serani feat. Ding Dong & Razz & Biggy

Dweet - Ding Dong & Bravo

Bad Man Pull Up - Ricky Blaze

Tek It To Dem - Ricky Blaze

Blase - Elephant Man

Weh Di Time - Voicemail, Delly Ranks & Bogle

Ready To Party (Weh Di Time 2)- Voicemail, Delly Ranks, Bogle & Ding Dong

Willie Bounce - Elephant Man

Ele Medley (Willie Chin Kopa Remix) - Elephant Man

Scooby Doo (Black Chiney Remix) - Elephant Man

S.T.O.P. - Sultex

Wacky Dip - Voicemail Feat. Ding Dong

Arcle - Galtego Bay Sweep - Crazy Chris feat. Ami

Cut Dem Off - Ricky Blaze

Everybody Dance - Merital

6) Vybz Kartel

Portmore Scheme (Dub) - Vybz Kartel

Represent Portmore - Vybz Kartel

Seh Weh Yuh Feel Fi Seh - Vybz Kartel

Welcome The Outlaw - Vybz Kartel

Run Them Down - Vybz Kartel

Court Case - Vybz Kartel

OK - Vybz Kartel & Bascom X

Most High - Vybz Kartel

Start Well - Vybz Kartel

Up To The Sky - Vybz Kartel

Sweet To The Belly (Remix) - Vybz Kartel & Celine Dion

Whine (Wine) - Vybz Kartel

Robbery - Vybz Kartel

Portmore Freestyle - Vybz Kartel, Singa Blinga, Geez & Lennymatic

My Scheme - Vybz Kartel

My Gun - Vybz Kartel

How Gun Rise - Mavado & Vybz Kartel

Weh Dem A go - Vybz Kartel & Javinchi

Laugh & Shot Dem - Aidonia & Vybz Kartel

When Badman Buss It - Aidonia & Vybz Kartel

Work’ Boss - Vybz Kartel

Dancehall Hero Part 2 - Vybz Kartel & Popcaan

Party Me Say (Me Nice) - Vybz Kartel

Portmore City to Uptown - Vybz Kartel

Drive By - Vybz Kartel

Girls Like Mine - Bounty Killer & Vybz Kartel

Gal Clown - Bounty Killer & Vibez Cartel

Gun Clown - Vybz Kartel

7) Dubplates

Nice Up The Dance / Reggae (Dub) - Kabaka Pyramid

Heavy (Dub) - Pad Anthony & Jigsy King

Cool Out Son(Dub) - Jr Murvin

Sound Boy Killing (Dub) - Kojak

Full Up (Dub) - Bunny General

In The Ghetto (Dub) - Johnny Osborne

Murderer (Dub) - Johnny Osborne

Gangster Sound (Dub) - Johnny Osborne

Modern Day Judas (Dub) - Jesse Royal

Here I Come (Dub) - Barrington Levy

Prison Oval Rock (Dub) - Barrington Levy

Spanish Town Rocking(Dub) - Chronixx

Sudden Flight (Dub) - Protoje

News Carryin’ Dread (Dub) - Chronixx

BLXXD MXNEY (Dub) - Protoje

Steamin (Dub) - Fyakin

Four Twenty (Dub) - Capital D

Father Protect Me (Dub) - Keznamdi

Immaculate (Dub) - Kabaka Pyramid

Smoke Badman (Dub) - Chino

Late Night Scheme (Dub) - Vybz Kartel & Wayne Marshell

Prison Life (Dub) - Vybz Kartel

Bashment Party Medley (Dub) - Wayne Wonder

Medley (Dub) - Mr Easy

Medley (Dub) - Baby Cham

Eagles Cry (Dub) - T.O.K.

Uzi Draw (Dub) - Vybz Kartel

8) Remix Segment

Sound Bwoy Killing (Dub) - Mega Banton

Forever Young (Dub) - Wayne Wonder

Mix Up (Dub) - Agent Sasco

People (Dub) - Ward 21

King Kabaka (Dub) - Kabaka Pyramid

Raggamuffin (Dub) - Koffee

Here Comes Trouble (Dub) - Chronixx

Lonely - Bascom X

Nobody Has To Know - Kranium

Like Glue - Sean Paul

Ravin - Popcaan

Summertime - Vybz Kartel

Beat Up - Vybz Kartel

Stamina Daddy - Buju Banton

Memories - Beenie Man

Tour - Capleton

Who Dem - Capleton

No Way - Spragga Benz

Goggle - Tanya Stephens

Foundation - Beenie Man

Brooklyn (Dub) - Screechy Dan

Easy (Dub) - Suku Ward

9) Showtime Riddim

Galong Ya Gal - Baby Cham

Gal Splurt - Cobra

Gal Pon De Side - Frisco Kid

Hot Gal - Shaggy

Bashment Party - Rayvon & Red Foxx

Seargent Wallace - Frisco Kid

Searching Dem Searching - Wayne Wonder

Rain Again - Mr. Easy

98 - Spragga Benz

We Nuh Like - Spragga Benz

Slurp - Stranger (Dave Kelly)

Hypocrite - Beenie Man

Eagle And The Hawk - Bounty Killer

Murderer (Dub) - Bounty Killer

Weed Medley (Dub) - Bounty Killer

Humble Thought (Dub) - Sizzla

Ganja Medley (Dub) - Roundhead

Weed Blazing (Dub) - T.O.K.

Send On (Dub) - Vybz Kartel

Send On The War (Dub) - Vybz Kartel

Touch Me If Ya Bad (Dub) - Vybz Kartel

Get To The Point (Sizzle) - Sizzla

Praise Ye Jah (Dub) - Sizzla

Keep It Blazing (Dub) - T.O.K.

Rock And Pop Off (Dub) - T.O.K.

Medley (Dub) - Ward 21

Rhyme (Dub) - Timberlee

Rass Piece A Punaany - Natalie Storm

Medley (Dub) - Cobra

Oldies Medley (Dub) - Sean paul

10) New Tunes

Safe N Sound - Chronixx

Lockdown - Koffee

Elephant Man - Time Cow & RTKal

Me & My Lady - Tessellated

Young Boss (Remix) - Blvk H3ro x Wayne J x Skillibeng

Budum - Jada Kingdom

Likkle Bit a Money - Govana

Mr. Universe - Skillibeng

5Gs - Runkus, Kabaka Pyramid, Jesse Royal, Munga & Royal Blu

New Step - Runkus feat. Kabaka Pyramid

G - Royal Blu & Runkus

Thy Will (Remix) - Lila Ike feat. Skillibeing

Trample Dem - Kabaka Pyramid

Like Royalty - Protoje ft. Popcaan

Mango - Sevana

Fresh & Clean - Jaz Elise ft. Govana

Sean Paul & Suku - Space Ship

Gal Policy - Kranium

Ambition - Yaksta

Cool As The Breeze / Friday - Chronixx

Yeng - Intence

Clip Tall - IWaata

Crocodile Teeth - Skillibeng

Check out this episode!

#Reggae #Dancehall #Federation Sound #Federation Invasion #Max Glazer #Kenny Meez

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iris-ymir · 4 years ago

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...The morning after

Evangeline trotted through the hallway, and turned into the kitchen, pushing open the door to immediately be faced by Iris' lithe and slender back, covered only by a very transparent nightgown. The woman wasn't wearing much else...skimpy lace lingerie...and was holding a cup of coffee which was slowly releasing steam into the air around her. Evangeline stopped, frozen in place for the second time this morning, but this time for a very different reason. "I....uhh...s-sorry..." she stammered, flushing immediately. "I d-didn't know...you were awake...I hope you didn't have too much trouble sleeping..." She shuffled her feet, trying not to look at the slope of Iris' back, the curve of her hips, the nape of her neck... Eva promptly realized that she was doing exactly that-tracing the lines of Iris' body with her eyes, unable to look away. Iris was so thin...she looked to be a willow branch, flexible in nature, ready to bend should it need to, but never break. It was then that Eva saw...one of the things that she found truly attractive about Iris. She was resilient. She had been through so much...lost so much...been so thoroughly hurt by the world...but she had not broken. She would not break. Evangeline was in awe of it...the power she exuded. She shook her head, attempting to clear it, and tried to speak. “I...um...I-I was about to...make myself some breakfast. C-can I make you something?” She stared at the ground, still flushing, hoping Iris would respond. Iris turned around, hearing Eva’s voice from the doorway. “Oh, Cinnabun! Suprised to see yer still stickin’ around... ’Ow the ‘ell do ya dink someone can sleep in dis frickin’ ruckus, though? Tha annoyin’ clapper of dat roegadyn’s lips would wake up the heckin’ corpses...” Suddenly Iris heard the steps from the stairs. During the years in manor, she had learned to recognize Varg’s way of striding. The old au ra did his best to not draw attention to his bad leg, but if you knew what to listen to, you could hear a very slight limp on his footsteps. After one last swift draw, pale viera tossed what was left of the cigarette into the sink, fanning the air around her with a sleeve of her dressing gown to get rid of the smoke, and hopefully, the smell.

With a relieved sigh, Iris circled her way around the table, and leaned onto the other side of it, her eyes traveling up and down on Eva’s body. An impish smirk played on her lips, as her eyes finally nailed onto woman’s purple pools. “Breakfast, ya say? Seein’ somethin’ appetizing? Hm?” Viera let her dressing gown drop casually off her shoulder, while taking a sip, keeping her eyes on Eva, over the rim of her cup. “...I dun need anythin’, Cinnabun. Its too heckin’ early to get any food stuff down aniway... I’ll just... get done wid dis...”, she tipped her cup towards her companion. “...And den I’ll be off. Gonna see mi Silke... Mi fallen angel should be havin’ a day off, and Im gonna drag dat purdiful nose of ‘ers off tha damn books for a change! I need to get outta ‘ere... I cant stand dat damn roegadyn in mi fockin’ eyes...”

Evangeline listened passively to Iris, crossing her arms and cocking her head to the side as she saw the pale woman trail off, seeming to be listening for something. Eva paid it no mind, however...her senses weren’t particularly sharp and the sound of the others carrying on was more than enough to drown out anything she might have picked up on. Iris didn’t look scared, or worried, which was the important part. Her eyes followed the viera as she moved down from the table, her jaw going slightly slack as Iris dropped her dressing gown. She knew Iris was playing games...but Evangeline rather liked this one. “Ah..appetizing? Y-yes…” slipped from her mouth without her realizing it. “I mean-!” She hurridly corrected herself. “I had thought to look in the pantry…t-to see if there were eggs or anything.” She chewed on her lip, her eyes still following Iris’ lithe form as she attempted to remove her foot from her mouth for the hundredth time. “I’m not the best cook...but I can get something together…” she mused, trailing off as Iris mentioned ‘Silke.’ Evangeline’s blood ran cold...Iris’ fallen angel? Who could this be…? It sounded like she was at least a woman...not another gods-damned man...but did there always have to be competition? After a few seconds of considering, feeling her chest tighten, she knew she had to ask. “Silke? Who’s that?” She intoned, as casually as she could muster. “Who? Mi Silke..?”, an impish smile lingered on Iris’ black-painted lips, as she rolled the shoulder strap around her finger. She had cut the two broken nails short, and painted them red, instead of her usual black. “Silke.. Silke is mi... friend. My muse... Mine... She just... does not quite realize it just yet, but she will be! The skin as pale as a porcelain doll.. ‘er hair long and dark, like the vast sea at midnight.. And dose torquoise eyes! Like a heckin’ lagoon ya could just drown into. Fockin’ dazzlin’ lass. Tha best heckin’ ass from ‘ere to Limsa Lominsa, I tell ya... A goddess among rats, Cinnabun..” Pale viera walked up to her partner, gazing up to those purple pools through her thick lashes. “Ya should come wid mi, sweetie... Hm?”, while talking softly, she ran her fingernails up on Eva’s toned arm, trailing her way up onto her shoulder. “Ya know... I might ‘ave an idea!”, she tiptoed placing a quick kiss on other’s lips, before taking a step back. The scent of the cigarette she just finished still lingered on her breath.. with something else. “Yer gonna take a shower, okai? Yer... in need o’ one. And while at dat, I’ll whip ya sum breakfast, okai? Believe mi or not... Im quuuite ‘andy in tha scullery! Den ya eat yer fill... And wi ‘ead out! Hm? Whuddu-ya sai?” Iris winks, turning around swiftly, and making her way to the stove, and soon the light of flames started to dance on her pale skin. She pulled out another cigarette with her lips, carefully lighting it on the stove, and picked up a large knife. “...So... How do ya wunt yer yello’ eyes, Cinnabun?” The tip of the cigarette jumped up and down merrily, as she spoke. Evangeline bit her lip. This was exactly what she had feared…’friend’ most certainly seemed to mean ‘competition’ in this context. Eva had yet to hear the deathly pale Iris complement anyone so flagrantly, nor had she ever expressed any interest in possessing someone. This would be...a difficult situation. Evangeline could feel that little monster writhing around in her stomach. Covered in spines, pricking at her when she least expected it, crawling up her ribs and poking around inside her. Jea-lou-sy. An emotion that Eva was very much familiar with. It had cost her her previous relationship...or so she would assume. Eventually Solenna may come looking for her...but with her new boy occupying her? She doubted it. Eva wasn’t worth the effort...not worth the attention. She felt suddenly as if she were made of molasses, weary even as the little green beast scuttled through her innards. Was this truly how she should spend her day? Wouldn’t it be better to let Iris have her time with her ‘friend?’ To not interfere? Evangeline had said she wouldn’t try and tie Iris down, or cage her...she had made that promise. She should stand by it, and let the other woman go about her business. She had almost resolved to gently excuse herself from the situation when...a shiver ran down her spine at Iris’ touch. Ya should come wid mi, sweetie...Hm? Gods...damn...it. She couldn’t say no to this woman. Iris’ lips touched hers, bringing heat rushing to her cheeks and her finger to her lips, cementing her fate. She listened quietly as Iris rattled off her ideas, seemingly in a rather good mood this morning. She was on the verge of responding, telling Iris she preferred her eggs sunny side up, when Arsene drifted into the room, causing Eva to stammer and pause, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly. Butler squinted eyes quickly observed the surroundings, spotting the two Vieras. Iris' current state of clothing, a knife on one hand, and a lit cigarette between her lips made the old Elezen tilt his head slightly, yet no trace of emotion to one way or another could be read from his face. Arsene strode hastily to one of the windows, slamming it open with one hand. He then proceed to take a pot of hot water, pouring the content into a cup with a string of teabag hanging over the rim. He let out a sigh, slowly turning to face the women once more, observing the situation. "Forgive me, miss Iris, miss Evangelin, for my intrusion," he said, now with a warm smile on his lips, "but you should be aware that you only need to ask, should you require any sort of.. Specialities to your ordinary breakfast, that I could provide you with." “Oh, Im mighty-fine, Gramps!”, Iris placed a pan on dancing flames, while rolling the knife around on her fingers, like a street performer. As the pan was hot, she added a piece of butter and broke three eggs onto it, using her free hand. For a person who looked like cooking plain water was all she could do, she handled the eggs well, managing to break them without getting a single piece of shell onto the pan. While shedding some ashes into the sink, she poked the bubbling eggs with the tip of her knife, wiggling her hips languorously. “...Ohhh fockin’ ‘ell!! Graa-aamps! I need a heckin spatula! I ‘ave.. a situation goin’ on ‘ere! Uhh.. shiteclippers!” Hissing a curse through her teeth, pale viera moved the pan off the flames, while dumping the cigarette onto the edge of the sink. “...Aand.. sum o’ dat ace bacon, if we still ‘ave it? And.. A bun! Yass.. A heckin’ bagel! Goat cheese! For fock’s sake... Evangelin’! Tha frickin’ chicken squirts! How do ya take dem, sweetie?! ‘Cause soon tha only option is damn crispy!” As Iris started to fumble, still trying to flip the eggs with a knife for some reason, Evangeline looked back to her, and barely managed to utter: “Scrambled...thank you, Iris. I’ll…” She paused, trying very hard to make the right decision, and proceeding to fail miserably. “I would...love to join you...it would be nice to meet your friend.” She gritted her teeth slightly, but didn’t make much of a show of it. The creature in her stomach clawed away…and something occurred to her. Perhaps it would calm down if she at least met this ‘Silke.’ Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t...right? Might as well find out if she had a shot, at least. At being something. Feeling like she was something. She smiled slightly at Iris. “Thank you for making me something, Iris. I appreciate the effort...could I trouble either of you for directions to a bath or a shower? I could use a bit of a refresher…” She ran her fingers through her hair, still somewhat slick with sweat. Definitely not showing off her arms in the process. Well, maybe a little bit. Arsene kept his eyes peeled at Iris' effort at the knifeplay for a short moment, then gliding next to her, to open the drawer right beside her. He picked up, and rolled the spatula in his fingers, then softly placed it very close to the steaming pan, using his little finger to knock the dumped cigarette bud into the sink with the same motion."Use the poker, young miss, calm the flames.." he said with a velvety tone in his voice. He took a long step leftwards, pulling a thick cloth from on top of a pile of rather large, fresh buns, still steaming slightly. "Feel free to eat as many as you wish, Master Blacksoul has already left.. Add some salt now, young miss." Arsene opened a small shelf-door, revealing a large variety of spices. He picked up a small jar, placing it close to where he had just placed the spatula. Arsene shifted his gaze to Evangelin, his lips turned into a smile. "Of course, miss Evangelin. I shall guide you personally to the bathing rooms, while I go get the meat, and some herbal butter for young miss Iris' bagel.." Arsene looked back to Iris, his eyes gleaming in the flames. Placing the knife onto table, Iris picked up the poker, turning her gaze to Eva. “Eyyyy! Cinnabun! Ya want mi to... calm yer flames?”, she waved the poker at the other, before sticking it into the furnace under the stove. “Talkin’ about dat... Do ya also ‘ave flame flowers growin’ in yer secret garden, or only on top of yer ‘ead? ...Scrambled it is! ...I think dats the only choise wi ‘ave at dis point aniway... Ohhh, for fock’s sake, the heckin’ salt! Thanke, Gramps!!” Viera returned the pan on the stove, adding some salt, before going through the open spice cabinet. After shuffling through the jars for a moment, opening one from here and there, she picks out some pepper mix and paprika compote. Humming a cheerful tone, she reached for the knife, cut a bagel in half, and applied some compote onto it, before toppling it with the scrambled eggs. “Ohhh yissss, dis will be perfect.. Dont ya float in dere for too long, Cinnabun.. Yer meal will get cold, ya know!” Iris glanced towards Eva for one last time with a playful wink, as she made her way to the coffee pot, filling it with fresh water. Evangeline thought to blush at ‘calm your flames’, but was briefly given pause by Iris’ mention of her ‘secret garden…’ It took her a moment to realize what the other woman meant, watching as she cavorted around the kitchen, a nymph, lithe and joyful, bouncing around as if she had cooked for all her life. Then it occurred to her just exactly what Iris had asked her...and her face immediately turned as red as her hair. It occurred to her that taking a seat on the spot may not be a bad idea, since she felt as if she were liable to faint at any moment. “I-...j-...don-...you…” She was barely able to form words at this point, she was so thoroughly embarrassed. This seemed to be the norm around here...given how Arsene had barely reacted. Eva, it seemed...would need to get used to this. Twelve, though...it wasn’t even what was said, entirely. It was the person that said it. The looks Iris gave. Her body language...the way she moved was just so...Evangeline couldn’t finish the sentence, even in her own mind. It flustered her. Threw her off balance. Eva buried her face in her hands, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart, to find words...something she could say to save even a small amount of face. “T-twelve...Iris...m-must you ask such personal questions…” she stuttered from behind a wall of her own fingers, pulling herself under control at last. She grasped at Arsene’s arm, pleading to him. “The bath...please...if you don’t mind.” As she turned to leave the room, though, something occurred to her. The words escaped her mouth without her realizing, vocalizing her thoughts before she could stop them. “You should know t-the answer anyways…” She clapped a hand over her mouth, unable to stop the sentence before it burst from between her teeth, a dam collapsing in the face of a raging river. Blushing furiously, her hand still covering her mouth, she stepped from the room, the entirety of her willpower focused on stopping herself from thoughtlessly fleeing, hoping to all twelve gods that Arsene wouldn't share this with her new potential employer. “Red like tha flames of dat burnin’ church bench!! And twice as sinful...” Iris broke into a flagrant laugh, as the blushing viera was guided out of the kitchen. Her laugh would still echo on the hallway, as the old elezen walked the redhead towards the large bathrooms. As the water in the pot started to boil, Iris added in several spoonfulls of freshly grinded coffee, soon moving the pot off the flames. The delicious scent of fresh coffee filled the kitchen, fading away what was left of the pungent cigarette smoke. A slight, impish smile lingered on viera’s lips, as she poured herself a cup. Everything was going according to the plan. For now at least. Just a couple more pulls and the hook would pierce deep into Eva’s heart. Deep in the maze of webs Iris had so lovingly weaved. Did she actually feel bad for the girl though? Everyone who ever stepped into this cursed building got their life ruined.. their whole being rotting from inside out... This place slowly ate away your soul. Varg’s... her own... the only one seeminly unaffected of the curse was the old Elezen... but maybe the man was more of a servant to the curse, than an actual victim. Taking a sip, Iris disgarded the thought. How was it her problem in the first place? She had never brought Evangeline into this place. The woman had walked here with her own two feet. Blindfolded, like a lamb to the slaughter... It was not Iris’ problem, if the woman was to turn into yet another victim of the Blacksoul manor. Or was it?

A while later, Arsene returned into the kitchen. On one hand he was carrying a slim paper package, from the grease stains on the paper one could imagine the package contained the meat Iris was after, for her breakfast that is. On the other hand he held a fine clay jar, filled with goat cheese mixed with herbs. Without as much as saying a word, Arsene walked through thekitchen, and placed the requested ingredients onto the table next to Iris. The old Elezen took a deep breath through his nose, his eyes closed. The scent of smoke from the firewood, and the steam from the fried eggs had well enough covered the stench of cigarette in the kitchen. Arsene opened his eyes, andmoved his gaze to the open window, then reaching his hand to close it once again. Arsene looked at Iris' direction, a gentle, yet in a way melancholic smile on his lips. Arsene turned around, to softly lean against the table on which he had placed the cheese and meat,still holding his gaze nailed at the Viera. Giving a quick side-glance towards old elezen, Iris threw some meat onto the pan, which soon started to hiss like an elderly snake. The bacon did not take long to finish on the already hot pan. When it had gained some crisp, pale viera poured it on top of the pagel, to make company for scrambled eggs, finishing the whole thing with a huge spoonful of goat cheese. “The heck is takin’ so long..? We should get movin’, for fock’s sake..”, she muttered to herself, giving a glance towards the old clock, standing in the corner of a kitchen. She was sure the clock itself had been here long before Varg arrived to Ishgard... or so it looked like.With a sigh, Iris picked up the plate, rolling fork and knife into a napkin, and was about to head to the bathroom, as her eyes catched the look on Arsene’s face. “Uhhhh... Im... Ya know... Im heckin’ sorry for the mess... Aniway, Im just gonna.. make sure tha damn damsel in distress has not drowned ‘erself into tha tub or anythin’...” She made her way to the doorway, and before stepping into the corridor, she gave one last glance towards the elezen, a slight smile lingering in her black lips. “...Thanks, Granpa.” And with that, Iris disappeared from the doorway, heading towards the bathroom.

#storytime!#rp written into a story #the Iris within #Evangeline Cross #Arsene Dreadeois #Eva keeps blushing.. and blushing.. and blushing some more...#poor woman being tormented..#Following morning from Long nights and dancing flames

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vidadaily · 5 years ago

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Vida 3x02 Cast Live Tweets (1 /4)

Maria del Pilar: all-grrrl punk rock was in order when writing a song for this scene. Jarina De Marco lead vox, Bright Lights production magic, yours truly on bass, guitar, y bgvs. Gracias VIDA, Tanya, and Pulse Music Group Tanya (Creator): Ep. 2 of VIDA opens w A MI ME VALE by Jarina De Marco & Ceci I asked @ “Vida Band Camp” for it 2 portray Lyn’s frustration & growing anger. The song captures it perfectly. Plus, any time we can amplify “me vale madre” into the English-speaking world, it’s a win Tanya: It will be out very soon so you can rage to it! Chelsea (Mari): Can we all look like Lyn while we run? Also that song 🔥🔥🔥 Cara (Zoe): Bitch, I thought the same thing. Tonatiuh (Marcos): This music is out of control!!!! Mishel (Emma): riiiight?! Ser (Eddy): Yes!!! This opening song of episode 2 gives me life!! Jarina De Marco wow !!! Me vale verga! Haha Adrian (Rudy): Jarina De Marco is pure genius in episode 2 opener! Adrian: And Maria del Pilar 🔥🔥🔥🔥 Cara: Love Melissa! She is such a great actress. This role was made for her.

Chelsea: I can’t with these 2, Emico forever!!! 😍😍😍😍😍 Mishel: It's sweet seeing her so relaxed and enjoying herself. Ser: Cheers to queer bodies on the screen! Ser: The bathtub scene from season 1 juxtaposes this bathtub scene in this second episode of season 3. Tonatiuh: This cinematography is so beautiful. The two in the bath. WOW Tanya: What’s more lesbian than a leisurely bath? Mishel: and y'all made sure the water was so nice and warm, i didnt want to get out #blessed Mishel: also.... CINDY! (my demon foot personality) Roberta (Nico): Cindy and her toes are squeaky Tanya: Oh, Cindy made a resurgence when we were watching dailies. Right JoAnne? JoAnne (Editor): “Cindy” gave all of us a good laugh! Tanya: Remember the alternate version with a sawed-off tub? What happened to that? Tanya: Nico esta toda empelotada, man. Tanya: But Emma’s sprung too, tho… evidently Cara: Ohhhh Nico you are soooo naughty. Where’d you get that scratch? Cara: Don’t get too cozy Emma.... Mishel: ooooh guurrrlll Cara: Hahahahaha

Tanya: Lyn is SUCH a freakin' little sister — always interrupting at the most inopportune moments. Ser: Eddy is NOT the liar okuurrrrrttt, Emma! Mishel: okuuuurrrtt Ser: Haha Ser: I saw Lynn peep Nico over Emma’s shoulder 😂😂 Tonatiuh: She wanted to see what's up Ser: Why everyone judging Eddy ? #meangirls 💁‍♂️ Tanya: Emma wants NOTHING to do with this supposed Papi. Like NOTHING Chelsea: Emma does have a point, either way it’s no bueno Tonatiuh: Honestly, Lyn you don't need permission to do what you want to do! Tanya: #loudiamondphillips DID use to be everyone's favorite Mexican non-Mexican back in the day... (but we don't do that no more) #nostoriesaboutuswithoutus Ser: When I read that I was like🤯 this whole time... I thought he was Latino!

Tonatiuh: OOOO emico is so cute Tanya: Why is emico my everything? Cara: Not if Zoe has anything to do with it... Mishel: again.... lol Vida: 👀 👀 👀 Chelsea: I loved that they mentioned SVU one of my favorite shows! Mishel: Roberta kept saying SUV lol Chelsea: 🤣🤣🤣🤣 Adrian: 🤣🤣🤣 Tonatiuh: DUN DUN Cara: I love Mishel! Working with her FYI was a dream. Professional, kind and soooo talented. Too bad Zoe isn’t her favorite character. Mishel: loved working with you. You killed it xo

#vida #vida starz #tanya saracho #mishel prada #chelsea rendon #tonatiuh elizarraraz #adrian gonzalez #cara santana #s3 #3x02 #cast #live tweeting

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scotianostra · 5 years ago

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On October 26th 1911 the Gaelic poet, Sorley MacLean, was born on the island of Raasay, the same island my own ancestors originated.

Maclean was born at Osgaig on the island into a Gaelic speaking community. He was the second of five sons born to Malcolm and Christina MacLean. His brothers were John Maclean, a schoolteacher and later rector of Oban High School, who was also a piper, Calum Maclean, a noted folklorist and ethnographer; and Alasdair and Norman, who became GP's. His name in Gaelic was Somhairle MacGill-Eain.

At home, he was steeped in Gaelic culture and beul-aithris (the oral tradition), especially old songs. His mother, a Nicolson, had been raised near Portree, although her family was of Lochalsh origin her family had been involved in Highland Land League activism for tenant rights. His father, who owned a small croft and ran a tailoring business,[12]:16 had been raised on Raasay, but his family was originally from North Uist and, before that, Mull. Both sides of the family had been evicted during the Highland Clearances, of which many people in the community still had a clear recollection.

What MacLean learned of the history of the Gaels, especially of the Clearances, had a significant impact on his worldview and politics. Of especial note was MacLean's paternal grandmother, Mary Matheson, whose family had been evicted from the mainland in the 18th century. Until her death in 1923, she lived with the family and taught MacLean many traditional songs from Kintail and Lochalsh. As a child, MacLean enjoyed fishing trips with his aunt Peigi, who taught him other songs.[9] Unlike other members of his family, MacLean could not sing, a fact that he connected with his impetus to write poetry.

Sorley was brought up as a follower of the Free Presbyterian Church of Scotland, now if you think the Wee Free are strict, these guys think that The Wee Free are too lenient, but Sorley says he gave up the religion for socialism at the age of twelve as he refused to accept that a majority of human beings were consigned to eternal damnation. He was educated at Raasay Primary School and Portree Secondary School. In 1929, he left home to attend the University of Edinburgh.

While studying at Edinburgh University he encountered Hugh Macdiarmid who inspired him to write poetry. However, Maclean chose the Gaelic of his childhood rather than Scots.

After fighting in North Africa during World War II he embarked on his life-long career as a school teacher - working in Mull, Edinburgh and Plockton.

Maclean was one of the finest writers of Gaelic in the 20th century. He drew upon its rich oral tradition to create innovative and beautiful poetry about the Scottish landscape and history. He was also an accomplished love poet. However, writing in Gaelic limited his audience so he began to translate his own work into English. In 1977 a bilingual edition of his selected poems appeared - followed by the collected poems in 1989.

His fame as a poet began to spread during the 1970s - helped by the appearance of his work in Gordon Wright's Four Points of a Saltire. Seamus Heaney, who first met Maclean at a poetry reading at the Abbey Theatre Dublin, was one of his greatest admirers and subsequently worked on translations of his work.

One of Maclean's most celebrated poems is Hallaig which concerns the enforced clearance of the inhabitants of the township of Hallaig (Raasay) to Australia. A film, Hallaig, was made in 1984 by Timothy Neat, including a discussion by MacLean of the dominant influences on his poetry, with commentary by Smith and Heaney, and substantial passages from the poem and other work, along with extracts of Gaelic song

In 1990 Maclean received the Queen's Gold Medal for poetry. He died in 1996 at the age of 85.‘.

Tha tìm, am fiadh, an coille Hallaig’

Tha bùird is tàirnean air an uinneig

trom faca mi an Àird Iar

’s tha mo ghaol aig Allt Hallaig

’na craoibh bheithe, ’s bha i riamh

eadar an t-Inbhir ’s Poll a’ Bhainne,

thall ’s a-bhos mu Bhaile Chùirn:

tha i ’na beithe, ’na calltainn,

’na caorann dhìrich sheang ùir.

Ann an Sgreapadal mo chinnidh,

far robh Tarmad ’s Eachann Mòr,

tha ’n nigheanan ’s am mic ’nan coille

a’ gabhail suas ri taobh an lòin.

Uaibreach a-nochd na coilich ghiuthais

a’ gairm air mullach Cnoc an Rà,

dìreach an druim ris a’ ghealaich –

chan iadsan coille mo ghràidh.

Fuirichidh mi ris a’ bheithe

gus an tig i mach an Càrn,

gus am bi am bearradh uile

o Bheinn na Lice fa sgàil.

Mura tig ’s ann theàrnas mi a Hallaig

a dh’ionnsaigh Sàbaid nam marbh,

far a bheil an sluagh a’ tathaich,

gach aon ghinealach a dh’fhalbh.

Tha iad fhathast ann a Hallaig,

Clann Ghill-Eain’s Clann MhicLeòid,

na bh’ ann ri linn Mhic Ghille Chaluim:

chunnacas na mairbh beò.

Na fir ’nan laighe air an lèanaig

aig ceann gach taighe a bh’ ann,

na h-igheanan ’nan coille bheithe,

dìreach an druim, crom an ceann.

Eadar an Leac is na Feàrnaibh

tha ’n rathad mòr fo chòinnich chiùin,

’s na h-igheanan ’nam badan sàmhach

a’ dol a Clachan mar o thus.

Agus a’ tilleadh às a’ Chlachan,

à Suidhisnis ’s à tir nam beò;

a chuile tè òg uallach

gun bhristeadh cridhe an sgeòil.

O Allt na Feàrnaibh gus an fhaoilinn

tha soilleir an dìomhaireachd nam beann

chan eil ach coitheanal nan nighean

a’ cumail na coiseachd gun cheann.

A’ tilleadh a Hallaig anns an fheasgar,

anns a’ chamhanaich bhalbh bheò,

a’ lìonadh nan leathadan casa,

an gàireachdaich ‘nam chluais ’na ceò,

’s am bòidhche ’na sgleò air mo chridhe

mun tig an ciaradh air caoil,

’s nuair theàrnas grian air cùl Dhùn Cana

thig peilear dian à gunna Ghaoil;

’s buailear am fiadh a tha ’na thuaineal

a’ snòtach nan làraichean feòir;

thig reothadh air a shùil sa choille:

chan fhaighear lorg air fhuil rim bheò.

Hallaig

Translator: Sorley MacLean

‘Time, the deer, is in the wood of Hallaig’

The window is nailed and boarded

through which I saw the West

and my love is at the Burn of Hallaig,

a birch tree, and she has always been

between Inver and Milk Hollow,

here and there about Baile-chuirn:

she is a birch, a hazel,

a straight, slender young rowan.

In Screapadal of my people

where Norman and Big Hector were,

their daughters and their sons are a wood

going up beside the stream.

Proud tonight the pine cocks

crowing on the top of Cnoc an Ra,

straight their backs in the moonlight –

they are not the wood I love.

I will wait for the birch wood

until it comes up by the cairn,

until the whole ridge from Beinn na Lice

will be under its shade.

If it does not, I will go down to Hallaig,

to the Sabbath of the dead,

where the people are frequenting,

every single generation gone.

They are still in Hallaig,

MacLeans and MacLeods,

all who were there in the time of Mac Gille Chaluim:

the dead have been seen alive.

The men lying on the green

at the end of every house that was,

the girls a wood of birches,

straight their backs, bent their heads.

Between the Leac and Fearns

the road is under mild moss

and the girls in silent bands

go to Clachan as in the beginning,

and return from Clachan,

from Suisnish and the land of the living;

each one young and light-stepping,

without the heartbreak of the tale.

From the Burn of Fearns to the raised beach

that is clear in the mystery of the hills,

there is only the congregation of the girls

keeping up the endless walk,

coming back to Hallaig in the evening,

in the dumb living twilight,

filling the steep slopes,

their laughter a mist in my ears,

and their beauty a film on my heart

before the dimness comes on the kyles,

and when the sun goes down behind Dun Cana

a vehement bullet will come from the gun of Love;

and will strike the deer that goes dizzily,

sniffing at the grass-grown ruined homes;

his eye will freeze in the wood,

his blood will not be traced while I live.

)

#Scotland #Scottish #gael #Hebridean #poet #History

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writingwordsanddrawingpictures · 5 years ago

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NaNoWriMo - Day 8 (on time!)

Yay! It’s nice to be back to posting updates on the day that I actually write them instead of a day later. A nicely productive day with a large scene clocking in at 1,497 words (the conclusion of the trial...dun dun dunnnn!). That brings my running total to 9,800 words exactly, which I’m really happy with. Yes, it’d be nice to squeeze that extra 200 words in somewhere to hit 10k today, but I’m not in a competition with anyone, and damn if I’m not enjoying this an awful lot!

It’s a longer excerpt under the cut. I was tempted to post the entire scene, but I have to tease you somehow. Besides, the bit you really want to know about is how the trial ends, which is in the excerpt!

Tag list is also under the cut. Add a comment or drop me a DM if you want adding to or taking off the tag list.

Trigger warnings: Mild swearing and a little violence.

Context: It’s the end of Sarah’s defence. She’s had Angela walk the court through the events of the day / night in question and Angela’s now being cross-examined by the prosecution.

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“So you’re telling me that you don’t know which hospital the defendant was taken to?” asked the prosecutor. “No. I… I was too upset to notice if there was any emblem on their uniforms, and they didn’t offer that information.” Angela retorted with fire in her eyes. “So, you’re in effect telling us that you have no idea where the defendant was between the point that they were ‘taken to hospital’,�� yes, the prosecutor actually did the ‘bunny ears’ when saying those words, “and when you next saw them via a video call the following morning?” “I… I… I called an ambulance. They turned up and took my querida with them. There must be a record of my call somewhere!” Angela growled at the prosecutor, her lips curling up into a snarl. “I have checked with the emergency services, and they have no record of any call from you, Ms Aquino. Neither does your service provider.” “What? That’s… That’s… This isn’t right! There must be some… Oh… Yo se lo que has ocurrido. This is a…” Angela’s face disappeared from the screen and the connection went dead. “That’s unfortunate.” Said the prosecutor with a sly smile. “Looks like we’ve had an issue with the connection.” “What? Damn you!” Sarah shouted, gripping the edge of the dock until her fingernails dug into the wood. “Ms Moreno, you have been warned before.” The judge rebuked. “It does appear that we have an issue with that connection and are unable to restore it. Do you have any other witnesses to call or evidence to present?” “You know I don’t. Your honour.” “So the defence rests, Ms Moreno?” “Yes” Sarah spat between gritted teeth. “Then we will adjourn while I deliberate my decision. Please remain in the dock, Ms Moreno, this won’t take long.” The judge’s screen went blank, apart from the word “Deliberating.”

Sarah remained stood in the dock, feeling splinters of wood sinking into the tips of her fingers - at least the pain was stopping her from screaming obscenities into the courtroom, not that anyone was here to… “I have arrived at my decision.” The judge’s screen sprang back into life. It must have only been a minute. Yes, it was an AI, but Sarah felt uneasy in the pit of her stomach. “And how do you find the defendant, Ms Sarah Moreno, on the charge of the first degree murder of <spoilers>?” the robotic voice of the court recorder echoed across the speakers. “I find the defendant… in… schrz…” the judge’s image stuttered along with the voice, briefly went blank, then returned - although something didn’t seem quite right with it… “I find the defendant guilty as charged.” The judge reported in a flat voice. Sarah felt her legs go weak under her. “And sentencing?” the court recorder asked. The judge’s image reached a hand off to one side and returned to the screen with a piece of grey cloth in its hand, which it then placed on its head. Sarah’s blood ran cold. She’d heard whispers of the ‘black cap’ from when what was the UK still had a death sentence. A ‘grey cap’ couldn’t be good news at all. “The defendant is to be taken from this court and transported to the holding camp on the Isle of Dogs, where she will be processed accordingly.” The judge reported in a monotone voice. The screen in the witness stand sprang back into life. “NO! Hold on, mi amor, I’ll get you out of this!” Angela’s voice shouted over the speakers. “I’ll get you out…” A loud banging could be heard coming from Angela’s flat. “Angela? How?” Sarah gaped in disbelief. “Have to go. Someone will be in touch. Trust them. I do. Mierda.” A louder banging could be heard, then the screen went dead for the second time. “Angela!” Sarah screamed. “Bailiff, take the defendant down to be transported.” The judge said in a flat voice, followed by: “Good bye, Ms Moreno. Your country thanks you.” In an oddly jovial voice. Sarah tried to resist as two bailiffs marched into the room to take her away, but just as she landed a punch on one, the other jabbed a taser in her ribs and it all went black.

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For the non-Spanish speaking amongst you, “yo se lo que has ocurrido” means “I see what’s happened”. “Querida” or “Mi Querida” means “Dear / My dear”. “Mierda” means, well, “shit”. “Mi amor” means “My love”.

Let me know if you need these translations, and if you do I’ll go back and add them to my previous posts, where appropriate.

Tag list: @themerrywriter, @contes-de-rheio, @soul-write, @roselinproductions, @kira-desomma, @farrradays, @elaynab-writing, @stephrawlingwrites, @madammuffins, @pheita, @bexminx, @therska, @paperplaneshift, @adie-dee, @bookishdiplodocus, @nirvhannahcornell, @ijustchangedmyname, @siarven, @aeschknight, @love-by-the-moon, @cawolters.

#writeblr #nano 2019 #nanowrimo 2019 #ww&dp: scrappers #day 8 #long extract #9.8k!#uh oh #poor Sarah #I know #I'm cruel #but it's necessary #you'll see why #later #promise #this is dystopian after all!

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annachronistic · 6 years ago

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BBC Les Mis highlights

I waited till the last minute to review decided to review the BBC Les Mis series after all 6 episodes have aired. So here’s my partially analytical, partially comical commentary on the BBC series. A lot of stuff under the cut, lol.

- The Waterloo scene with Thénardier flexin’ like he wasn’t just about to rob Pontmercy 😒. The dude’s so two-faced, but that’s in character.

- The Toulon prison scene looks like it was filmed in an arid, desert-like region, like Zion National Park. I’m very curious about where this was filmed!

- One moment in the Toulon scene that stood out to me was with the prisoner about to get executed by firing squad. And Javert just says “fire” in the most monotone voice ever as if it was nothing. It really shows how indifferent he is to this sort of stuff.

- The “you will never win” line from Javert makes him seem like a stereotypical movie villain. Just add lightning and a dramatic music sting wait, there’s no music allowed.

- The French dialog in the background is a clever way to establish the setting. I wish I knew more French so I could understand the background conversations!

- The parts of episode 1 with Fantine and her homies just hanging out and being happy were my favorite scenes.

- Fantine is played by Lily Collins, who is Phil Collins’ daughter. Phil Collins is a musician. But I thought there was no singing allowed, Davies 😤

- I like how Fantine has a last name (Tibeau) in this series. I like the idea of giving names to characters with unmentioned last/first names in the book.

- Georges Pontmercy tries to contact his father-in-law George Washington Gillenormand, who is a pretentious royalist that won’t let Marius see his dad.

- Seriously, I know almost nothing about 19th century fashion and I still can tell that Gillenormand and his royalist buddies’ hairstyles are anachronistic.

- Cosette, Éponine, and Azelma playing together after Fantine arrived with Cosette at the inn reminded me of the powerpuff girls with their hair styles.

-This is sad as well, because this the last time Cosette will be happy in a very long time.

- Fantine being optimistic and thinking she’ll see Cosette in 6 months really makes me sad, knowing what will happen in the future.

- Madeleine firing Fantine for lying (when he himself is lying, in a way, by hiding his identity) seems harsh and out-of character. Valjean is supposed to have the most dramatic character changes of all the characters, but it looks like he hasn’t changed at all since Toulon.

- Javert talks to Madeleine in the same condescending way he did when he was 24601. He was being all passive-aggressive and basically accusing him of being a criminal without directly saying it to his face.

- The dude that buys Fantine’s hair and teeth looks hella creepy. Like wtf is that tattoo near his eye?

- Javert was super indifferent to Fantine’s death.

- Javert seems more like lawful evil than lawful neutral in this series.

- Valjean Harry Houdinis himself out of prison and shows up to get Cosette...2 years later?

- Rosalie Thénardier (again, I like that she has a first name) is depicted very well and is not solely a comic relief.

- Creepy hair buying guy returns and sells Chuckie Catherine to Valjean

- Valjean when he sees that Thénardier followed him and Cosette into the woods to bargain for more money:

- Cosette is right. The landlord is a nosy lil bitch.

- At the end of episode 3, Javert gets super pissed that Valjean has narrowly escaped. This is so sad Alexa play One Way or Another by Blondie.

- Big time jump! What year is it? Now I miss the exact year being shown on the screen.

- Valjean has morphed into Queen Aggravain from Once Upon a Mattress, so I guess Cosette is a much-smarter Prince Dauntless? (Stop it annachronistic! This is not a musical review. Andrew Davies forbids it 😠)

- Since Cosette has some traits of an ingenue, and since Davies likes making female characters one-dimensional, I was afraid that he was gonna make her really dumb. Thankfully she is smart, and I don’t think that Valjean perceives her as being dumb. I think he is trying to shelter her from the world not because he thinks she is weak, but because he is super paranoid and has trust issues. Like he might be afraid of her meeting someone like Tholomyes or Thénardier.

- But Valjean goes about his protection of Cosette in the most jerkish way possible.

- Mabeuf is the real MVP

- The return of the landlord in episode 4 (dun dun dunn)

- I hate the strip tease scene. Like stahp.

- And I also dislike the over-sexualization of (abused!) women, and the idea that a woman has to be “sexy” or beautiful in order to be loved. In the words of the great Bart Baker “It sends the message to young girls: pretty equals happiness. If you’re ugly then you’re worthless and your life will be bland and shitty”

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- In episode 4 Marius is pretty much a socially awkward Glenn Quagmire from Family Guy.

- The scene where Thénardier forces Azlema to break the window with her hand makes Thénardier look like a sociopath.

- I don’t know why Valjean took Cosette to the Gorbeau house where the Thénardiers were staying. I think it’s to emphasize that Cosette remembers the Thénardiers?

- New drinking game: take a shot every time Thénardier says he was in Waterloo.

- The Gorbeau house raid was actually my favorite scene of episode 4 (I’m biased because I’m an action movie fan), although there is a shocking lack of “would you like my hat?”.

- Valjean going crazy and burning his arm with the hot iron and Madame Thénardier throwing that giant ass rock! I think X Gon’ Give It To Ya by DMX would be the perfect soundtrack for the Gorbeau house scene.

- Gavroche’s brothers/gamin buddies in episode 5!

- Also, Gavroche looks like Huey Freeman from The Boondocks. I cannot unsee this.

- Marius, justifiably upset at his grandfather says “You disrespected my father, and now you disrespect wife?!” Like, he didn’t even say “future” wife, and he’s only spoken to her 4 times in the show. Slow down there, buckaroo.

- Also Gillenormand changes somewhat even he changed more than Valjean wtf and has some regrets about not letting Marius see his dad.

- I hate seeing Valjean fighting with Cosette. In fact, the whole thing is pretty farcical. There are a lot of Jerry Springer moments.

- Case in point: Enjolras. The background info for the reasons for the June rebellion was glossed over pretty quickly, so it seems like he’s starting shit just to start shit.

- Javert thinks Valjean is the leader of the rebellion like wtf? At this point, BBC Javert seems more like the Javert from the musical (ya know, going after the same criminal for almost 2 decades instead of randomly meeting him in a series of coincidences).

- I love the drone shots of the barricades

- Marius goes from super giddy to suicide bomber in like one day. I love the recurring theme of characters going berserk.

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- And Enjolras and the rebels thought that was a badass moment for him.

- It’s a 3-way tie between Valjean, Javert, and Marius for being the most extra™ character in the series.

- Cosette saying “I hate you” to Valjean somehow seemed both out-of character and justified.

- Éponine getting shot was too sad.

- Gavroche’s body getting put next to Éponine‘s :(

- The army guy staring at Grantaire and Enjolras after killing them :(

- After Valjean finds him at the barricade and sees he has a knife Javert is like:

- Valjean saying he might “change his mind” about not killing Javert ???

- not enough sewers 0/10

- Gillenormand’s reaction when he thought that Marius was dead made me finally feel sympathy for him

- Javert’s suicide was surreal because he was methodical about it. After crying for a few seconds, he goes back to his stoic self and jumps off the bridge because he actually sees it as a logical solution.

- Valjean casually admitting to Marius that he was thinking about murdering him *eyeroll*

- The biggest what-the-fuck moment (history wise) was when Thénardier said he was going to La Jolla in the New World to trade slaves. If I heard it right, he is talking about La Jolla in California. California did not become a state until 1850. So if this is true, then Cosette is in her mid-30′s, Marius is at least 40, and Thénardier is at least 77. Damn, they aged well!

- Valjean’s hair finally changed color once he slips into depression.

- At least Valjean had a peaceful death, and Cosette was by his side. His relationship with his daughter was resolved and the story was able to (sort of) have a happy ending.

- Speaking of endings, the series ends on a frickin’ cliff hanger with the two gamin boys begging on the streets. I guess it’s to show that the world is still a cruel place, but some can overcome it?

- We now need Les Misérables 2: Thénardier goes to America and his 2 unnamed sons get adopted by the Pontmercys.

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the-house-of-the-nine · 6 years ago

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In Depths Below: Midnight Hour, Part 3

(To give an accurate description of what the dialogue in this story would sound like in your head. Imagine a conversation happening between Quint [From “Jaws”] and Sylvester the Cats son Junior [Looney Tunes, and he is just a higher pitched version of Sylvester for anyone curious.] As that is in fact both of their voice claims, enjoy!)

In the third week leading up to Lazarius being taken by the mercenaries and House Kash’ebahl falling into ruin, it would be the coordinated efforts of the members of the Nine leading the charge to extract a carefully planned revenge on the parties responsible. Magister Dawnseeker had begun this assault by taking from them their precious Inquisitor, whether he realized it or not he was declaring open war on not only the house in question, but the Nine. Each of the members of the order had their mission. They were to deal with a particular member of the eleven magisters in question, leaving together but toward different places they would carry out their plan to eliminate the threat. This was their Midnight Hour, on the hypothetical doomsayer clock, they were four minutes til…

“If ah have tah listen tha’ gods be damned ‘flesh is burning’ song one more time. Ah’m gonnae have tah toss yah off this cart into the next vent shaft.”

Brox was a rather crass and miserable dwarf. When it came to measuring dwarves it was common place to use a yard stick, or some other device that capped out at about a meter and a half.

“Even burnin’ ya alive, ah would doubt ah’d be rid o’ yah.”

The gritty and somewhat outspoken Dark Iron dwarf was leading an old and somewhat mangy looking mule through the barely visible roads of Searing Gorge. It was pulling a floppy, beaten and run down wagon with a pair of mismatched wheels and a grinding squeak that was only barely better than listening to the gnome. On the side of the cart in a crude penmanship were the handwritten words,

“W.W M.D Miracles, Cures, Tonics & Hot Lunches.”

The pair of them were parading around somewhere in the middle of the Searing Gorge as an organized traveling medical practitioner, who for some reason also offered a meal with their service. That thought slowly wormed its way back into the brain of the dark iron and he let out a furiously painful groan.

That was a conversation that took them nearly an hour to resolve. He could still hear the little gnome insisting that every patient deserves a balanced lunch. He groaned again while his other hand pressed a thumb and finger into his burning orange red eyes.

When it came to measuring attitudes though, by far, Dark Irons were renowned for being the grumpiest and the most miserable of the lot. Brox was just that.

He was shifty, he was angry and most importantly he was severely challenged when it came to having any type of pleasant conversation that may result in a joyous affair. It was remarkable how even the slightest of comments could send him into a swear spilling, whirlwind of obscenities and saliva. There was very little that actually brought a smile to his face.

Of course there were some things. Gambling for starters, women were another. These Ren’dorei were the stuff dreams were made of. He had several pin-up calendars that were posted all over his dorm. Thinking about them would always bring a tug at his grizzled cheeks.

Drinking was a given here, dwarves were notorious drinkers. Able to put down even the strongest liver in a matter of hours. Though not as much these days, Brox had taken a bit of a break from his ale consumption when a curious Lightforged Draenei mistook him for a large pudgy gnome by mistake. After the tussle and day and half in the stockades, he was determined to make a new years resolution regarding a bit of weight loss.

“All tha way since Dun Morogh. . . ah’m startin’ tah lose meh patience Doc. Startin’ tah. . . what the ‘ell am ah sayin’?”

He would laugh to himself and tug the reins a bit. He was of course speaking out loud.

“Ah’ve long since lost meh patience... and ‘ave slowly started driftin’ toward murder. . .they would never find yah ‘ere. . . ”

Brox was of course referring to the pint sized companion sitting beside him in the cart. That little nightmare was of course none other than the illustrious, the magnificent, the astounding; these were of course the only monikers he went by, Westley P. Whistletorque. Brox and Whistletorque had been on the road for several days already. Choosing to hop the tram leading from Stormwind Keep to Ironforge just a mere few hours after receiving their mission from Pyravari Kash’ebahl.

This was more so on the urging of the little doctor more than anything. He was eager to impress the Harbinger. Something about the way she smacked people around. Her gruff and wicked ways, her strong powerful choke holds. The little gnome never fancied elven women but for some reason the undead liche queen was something he could never get out of his mind.

Of course he knew all about her affair with Koltun, it didn't seem to bother him. She was of course allowed to have other gentlemen suitors in her life; but delusional as he was, he’d always see himself as her number one fellow.

“Would you sth-top your complaining!” squeaked the little gnome.

“Wah-wah wah, this-th cart hurt-sth my ass-th, this-th snow is-th much too cold, this-th mule wont pull hard enough. . .”

“This gnome won’t shut the fu-” Brox began.

“Would you look at that!” Whistletorque brazenly interrupted as he peered up over the horizon at the massive peek of Blackrock Mountain. “Ain’t it jus-th marvelous-th, ain’t it jus-th a bute!”

“Aye, it’s ah large angry mountain tha’ spits fire an’ lava an’ big ol’ hot rocks that crush wee little gnomes. Perhaps you’d like tah get ah closer look, Doc?”

Brox veered the mule a bit off to the left of the trail they were following to avoid a sloppily paved road hole. The dark irons that lived out here were not exactly keepers of the kings road. The could care less if the ground ate itself. Brox was used to it though.

Before leaving this miserable place, he’d been a commanding general in the Twilight Hammer Cult. Those days were long since past him, and he was fiercely loyal to Lazarius and The Nine now, but prior to Deathwings fall and the loss of the Bastion of Twilight, he was a devout Hammer follower.

“I’m fairly c-thertain that s-thitting here and obs-therving from a dis-th-tance will s-thuffice, thank you Mis-thter Sulfin.”

“Urgh. . .” Brox let out a painful sigh as he listened to the gnome. “...gods below yah voice is like listenin’ tah two corehounds gnawin’ on ah pipe organ. . . how da yah do it? How do yah survive? Ah’m shocked yah even still alive. . .”

“I get by. . .Not by mis-thtake either!” the gnome guffawed as his shrill and irritating laugh pierced the silence of the cart. It was only surmounted by the rumbling of thunder at the summit of the mountain and of course the sounds from deep below the surface.

The pair of them would sit quietly for once in their trip as the fumbling, moronic actions of the gnome began to dig through his little doctors bag for a certain item. What was he looking for?

Brox would peer over just in time to nearly miss another road hole, as it shook the cart and nearly sent the two of them flying from just that small nudge, he would growl and snarl a gruff tone.

“What are ya doin, we just ate about an hour ago!”

Whistletorque chortled softly into his medical bag, remarking about not wanting food or anything of the sort, but removing the picture from the meeting just days prior when they’d left The Bastille.

Pyravari did the same thing with the next image, her magics levitating it upward in a shadowy tendril to reveal a red-headed elf with the same, intense gaze as the previous.

“Magister Sinafel. A wizard of fire – destructive and immune to most magics that are not elemental or otherwise ‘natural.’ He is in Searing Gorge in a hideout along the caves in The Cauldron on the eastern side. Whistletorque and Brox, you will both dispatch this one. I am certain Brox will be able to traverse that region with ease thanks to his knowledge of that area.”

“S-thinafel.” the little gnome said softly as he gazed at the photograph. “He sure is a S-thpindly looking fellow is-thint he?”

Brox would only turn and glance at the photograph for a brief moment. He knew what the elf looked like and it was not of much concern to him how thin or fat he was. He was dead, that was the one thing that the dark iron knew would be a fact in the next few days. Depending of course; when they found him and got out of this horrible place.

“Ah’ve seen him. Don’t care. Ugly dead or alive. Just need to get there and do our job.”

“You know, I’ve s-theen some ugly looking elfs-th in my day but this-th one takes-th the cake for sure.” Whistletorque said as his voice trailed only for a moment as he began to think further on his own sentence.

“S-thpeaking of cake, you know what I abs-tholutely love?”

“Cake. . . “ Brox said in the most begrudgingly awful draws he could possibly make. He knew answering the gnome was a mistake, but not answering him was an even worse one.

“How’d you guess-th?” replied the gnome as his shrill cackle whirled around the cart like a siren squealing from an alarm-o-bot.

“Pound cake, Round Cake. . . fat, fluffy cake. Cake with those fun little s-thprinkles on top. . .Cake on top of cake. . . s-thmelly cake. . .”

Brox was silent for only a moment as the sound of his counterpart rattling on about pastries caused him to growl after each new sentence. This was of course culminating into one loud and frustratingly spent groan which trailed off into the distance as the two continued to cart along.

Several Hours Later. . .

Brox, Whistletorque and the Donkey were perched on a cliff face just on the boarder of where Searing Gorge met the surrounding lands. It was a quaint little hovel nestled into the rock formations with just the right amount of cover, but also; the right amount of natural trapping, The Cauldron.

Brox; if anything, was a master of these lands. Having lived here for his entire adolescent life leading up to his departure and abandonment of The Alliance. The one thing he knew was that the elf and his posse were now in the perfect place for an ambush.

There were no hopes of finding salvation in such a harsh and forgiving landscape. The closest Horde settlement was the remains of Kargath out in the Badlands but getting there would prove a greater challenge now more than ever due to the fact that the Dark Irons had allied with the Alliance formally. This meant the neutral or hostile checkpoints which were only once half manned were now heavily reinforced as checkpoints for the King.

Sinefel would not be waltzing through them without losing something, a limb perhaps. If that were to be the case, then it would have just made their job even easier.

“Alrigh’, we go in slow an’ steady, you lead and ah’ll follow, flash ‘em tha smile, do the song and dance, go into your routine, and before yah know it. . .we’ll be back in Ironforge ‘avin a pint before supper.” whispered the dwarf as he peered over toward his companions.

“That is eas-thy for you to s-thay, I’m the one that has-th to be the showman. You get to jus-tht s-thit there and watch. . .” replied the gnome.

The donkey would bray once.

“Oh so yah think ah’m incapable of bein’ the star?” Brox snapped looking toward the gnome.

“Think? Incapable? HA!” the little pink fluff ball grumbled. “I think, you can barely pass-th as a dwarf as it is, thank goodness-th for the s-thmell!”

The donkey would slowly begin to munch on the pack of the little gnome nearby as it brayed again.

“Wha- why you ungrateful little shit smear!” Brox flopped off of his tummy; as difficult at it would sound, in order to get onto his knees and kickstand himself onto his feet. “Ah’m. . . ah’m the one. . . Ah’m the. . .”

“Careful pudgy, don’t s-thrain a musthcle.” the gnome wittingly retorted as he watched him struggle. On the other hand, he had no difficultly getting to his feet.

“Shut-the-fu--” Brox would be promptly interrupted by another donkey bray.

“S-thee, he agrees with me too.” Whistletorque said as his stubby coated arms cross over his own portly gut.

“He is a donkey, he doesn’t ‘ave an opinion!” Brox snarled finally getting to his feet and adjusting his leathers and boots. “Listen ‘ere!”

The gnome remained standing there silent, his crossed arms still resting against his pudginess. A slow moving hand would offer its way toward the dwarf as if to say ‘go on’.

“Ah’m the one who drives tha cart. Ah supplied the goods, and ah’m the navigator.” he sympathetically stood there waiting for some sort of gratitude. The gnome was silent as he explained his stance on the topic.

The only sound heard would be another bray from the donkey.

“Cram it!” Brox shouted. “Nobody asked you!”

Whistletorque started to laugh again as he turned and made his way back toward the cart which was parked just behind them on the trail head leading down to where the elf had made camp.

“You know, its a good thing he’s here, for what its worth. Every good doctor needs-th a half witted, disheveled, even incompetent companion to help make himself look more intelligent by comparison.”

Brox would do the same thing, grabbing the reigns of the donkey in order to lead him back toward the wagon. As he was saddling him back up, he would have to pry the doctor bag from his mouth.

“You shouldn’t talk about ol’ Hammy like tha’, he’s ah good mule.” he said tightening the straps to his bridle.

“I was-th talking to him. . . “ replied the gnome.

Brox didn’t miss a beat. Simply made his way toward the drivers side of the cart, hoisted himself up into the seat and promptly hurled the bag of the little gnome as hard as he could off the edge of the cliff face. The sound of it spilling and dropping its contents down into the ravine were amplified ten fold due to the silence between the two of them.

“You’re abos-tholuely des-thpicable. . . “.

A few moments later. . .

After some careful planning, a bit of tidying up and of course; the grand flare of everything, installing the mechanical whirling gizmo that sat atop the magnificent wobbling cart. Whistletorque and Brox descended upon the camp of the Magister known as Sinafel with the intention of murdering him in cold, unprovoked fury. But first they’d have to make their grand introduction.

As they waltzed through the pass leading to the small outcrop, the two riders and their majestic donkey would all grow silent. The one thing they needed to remember was that these people were elves. This was not a force of Stormwind soldiers, it was not a group of rogue dwarves out having an evening drink. These were magisters, and even more specifically, these were an intelligent excavating and archeological group of magisters.

They were here studying the effects of magma, lava, fire and tectonic shifting. They were here to learn about the massive mountain. They were here to gain knowledge and power. They were not here to be bothered by a gnome and dwarf riding a donkey cart, trying to appeal to their sense of flare and flamboyancy would be imperative.

The swirling gizmo continued to turn on top of the wagon like a spinning windmill as the pair grew closer to the two guarding elves at the entrance of the camp. Brox was wearing a beautiful violet silken top hat, his goggles; just the riding type, were covering his glowing red eyes. And his beard combed neatly and respectively, it fell against the crushed velvet of his leisure suit.

Westley was wearing a white lab coat and his usual magnification goggles. His pink tufts of hair on either side of his head were combed outward in the most glorious way and the smile he brandished was beaming as bright as the sun.

The two guarding elves were poised at the entrance of the camp in Silvermoon Cities finest garments. The golden and crimson colors vibrant against the stale cinder ash that caused the visibility of the area to always have an odd orange hue.

As they watched this ridiculous pairing grow closer, one of the elves would put their hand outward and pointed toward the cart. Both the drivers would realize the flame that ignited in the palm. While the other elf would raise a glaive of some sort, looking much like that of the royal guard.

“That is as far as you both shall go. Report your name or we will open fire. This is protected land claimed by the Horde and Silvermoon City and you are trespassing.” exclaimed the elf holding the handful of fire.

Suddenly the sound of something marvelous would echo against the heavy stone walls of the entire cavernous pass. It was trumpets blaring, it was the sound of a snare drum rolling into a military style rhythmic beat, a bass drum keeping tempo and what sounded like banjo or some string instrument being played along side a small high pitched fife.

The rear of the cart exploded with a vibrant thud as the large door fell downward and suspended itself horizontally out the back. It was a mechanical band, like that of an entertainment restaurant fully equipped with animatronics a plenty, using the door as their makeshift stage. They were only about the size of the gnome riding in the cart but they were playing the music beautifully.

A small robotic pair of orcs were sitting side by side, one with the snare drum and the other hitting the large bass drum with a rubber mallet. The dwarf playing the banjo was missing a hand, but it was clear it didn't matter because he could some how strum without it.

Beside them was a beautiful; save for the fact that she was missing her lower jaw and part of her ear, elven female playing the fife. And right in the back behind her was a troll blowing what appeared to be a long object looking like a plunger, this would have been where the missing trumpet probably went.

Fireworks then burst from the whirling gizmo as the music continued to blare. Streams of blue and red, and yellow and pink came whizzing out of the top of each of the spindles that spun about. This only caused the device to spin out of control even faster and create a rainbow effect on the cart.

“Gentlemen! I bid you good morning!” squealed the little gnome as he suddenly leapt up from his seat and stood posing on the cart for the elves.

“Allow me to introduce mys-thelf! I am doctor Wes-thley P. Whis-thletorque and thisth isth my traveling cart of miraclesth, medicinesth and much, much more!”

At the completion of his sentence; Brox who had already come to a complete stop, released the reigns leading to the donkey and would slowly give an unenthusiastic pound on the wood behind him so that two flags would drop on either side of the cart. Each of them were showing stick figured people smiling, happy and surrounding a list of all the wonderful items he carried in his cart.

In another sudden action of nearly unexpected and miraculous agility. Westley would spring into the most charming of movements. His pop & lock dancing moves were nearly unmatched; this in part largely due to his overwhelming obsession with Dalaran during the auction house dance parties, but they were incredible for such a stubby and overweight fellow.

“Thisth isth my marvelousth as-thsistant Brahm Hands-thomefoot, and our beautiful four hoof companion Margret. S-thay hello Margret!” exclaimed the gnome as he continued to showboat.

The donkey then gave out a sudden bray of “Hee-Haw” before bowing his head and giving a stomp from his left front hoof. And yes, they were aware that the name of their male donkey was Margret. He just looked like a Margret, another hour long battle that Brox conceded on during their trip here.

This entire display to the amazement of everyone; including the whimsical Whistletorque who was panting heavily with his arms outstretched as if he’d just finished doing his dance on stage, received a full ovation from both of the guards who seemed to find it amusing.

They were clapping and cheering and it seemed genuine. But one could never be too careful.

“That was stupendous!” cried the one elf who’d extinguished his hand fire.

“Amazing, simply amazing. You had to practice that. Wow. . .just wow.” said the other as he too had placed his weapon in a safe, and sturdy location in order to clap.

Whistletorque quickly offered them both a happy chuckle which followed by a bow on his cart, even Margret knew what it meant and he went into a bow. But before stopping, the gnome happened to look over and see that Brox was just sitting there. A swift slap to the side of his head; which knocked his top hat off into his lap, would be the indication that he should also bow. He did, biting his tongue and his fist to prevent it from being sent into the chompers of the little runt.

“You gentlemen are far too kind, you have my utmosth thanks-th.” exclaimed the gnome as he dismounted the cart in the most graceful of ways and landing with a silent step.

“Might I inquire, who isth in charge of this-th fine es-thtabilshment?”

The elf previously offering the hand of fire toward the cart walked over and offered the same hand to the portly gnome. “Of course, of course. That would be High Magister Arcadius Sinafel. Why don't you bring the cart inside, we’ll get you set up. You seem to be heading in the direction of Stormwind, coming from Ironforge I guess?”

“You are abs-tholutely correct my fine s-thir. Ironforge to S-thormwind, s-thuch a long and arduous-th trek, wouldn’t you s-thay?” who was he to disagree with the elf who’d offered the perfect cover story so willingly, he’d just go along with it.

The elf would nod and continue to look over the gnome. Gnomes were not like goblins. The guard knew as much. Gnomes were a rather trusting people, and even more convincingly they were often times very forthcoming and honest. Goblins on the other hand. They’d just as soon cut your throat if it meant a profit.

“You sell hot lunches too, odd isn't it?” said the other guard as they made their way over to them, his eyes curiously going over the cart as he reached out to touch it.

“W-what?” Whistletorque said as he shook the hand of the one elf while half trying to listen to both. But upon noticing him getting closer to the cart he would squeal out. “W-why no, of course we don’t s-thell hot lunches-th!, that would jus-th be weird!”

Brox would slam his fist into the side of the cart again, and the doors that were previously open and displaying the band; which was still playing, and the signs would soon close back up tight like a snare drum.

“We offer free hot lunches-th for every diagnos-this and purchas-the of our tonics-th!” he exclaimed as he clapped his hands and opened them both up to display himself to the crowd like a ‘ta-da’ stance. “I believe every person deserves-th a hot lunch after an exam, more doctors-th should agree!”

Both elves laughed at this, and waved the cart and the gnome inside.

“Come on, get set up, we’ll pull the other hands from their research, get you situated in here, maybe help us out by grabbing a few of your wares and we’ll find the Magister for you to meet.”

“S-thtupendous!” Whistletorque said as he waved at Brox, and followed the elves toward the main camp.

It wouldn’t be a very long time for the little gnome and his dwarven companion to get set up in the camp. After being led into the area that was hardly secure to fend off a full Alliance assault; it was though reinforced enough to defend against a simply reconnaissance group.

Brox and Whistletorque would be given a bit of time to prepare while the rest of the camp would be gathered from their duties. The duo and their cart would be led into the middle of everything; Brox made sure that the cart would be turned in a complete one hundred and eighty degree turn though, just in case they needed a speedy exit. Or for this matter, and exit that was about as fast as a lazy old donkey could go.

In the meantime while the magisters were being gathered, Brox and Westley huddled in the back of the cramped cart. In the little area that was housing the six mechanical musicians. It looked like a group meeting as the two living assassins were squished between the other deteriorating friends who’d come along for the ride.

“Now, when they come out here everyone will line up on the passenger side of the cart. You go out, give another lil shimmy dance and flash ‘em tha’ ol’ smile o’ yours.” Brox said quietly as he peered around the half missing jawed elven woman who was sitting between them. “While your doing your thing, ah’ll sneak off and get into the tent, find this magister fella and stick ah knife right in his back.”

“Your plans-th are always s-tho pedestrian. . . you know that right?” Whistletorque exclaimed as he tried to peer around the other side. It was like trying to talk to a friend while someone else stands between you. Bobbing their heads back and forth but never really making eye contact.

“Wha- in the name o’ tha ol gods does that mean?” shouted the dwarf in his quietest of tones and trying to gaze around the marionette.

“It means’th every time we do anything, your answer is-th to just shove knives in peoples-th backs-th! Wheres-th the flare? Wheres-th the pizazz?” prompted the little gnome as he would move parts of the musical attachment out of his way while arguing with the dwarf.

“Flare? Flare? Why don’ ah shove a flare up ya sodden arse and see ‘ow long it takes for them fancy knife ears tah put ya out!” Brox was obviously getting irritated at this point.

“Well that. . .” Whistletorque gave a slight pause, blinking and giving it some thought. “That isn’t exactly a bad idea, I mean given the physics-th of the entire ordeal and how hard it would be to actually ignite a flare inside of someones-th ass-th. . . I am c-thertain that if w. . .”

“Would you shut up already! Just go do what ah’ tol’ yah and we’ll be out of ‘ere no time flat.” Brox snarled as he continued to fight with the perspective of the elven woman in his line of sight, while of course the gnome prattled on.

“And then of course you have the combustion rating, burn time, not to mention heat ratios. . .”

Brox suddenly grabbed the elf by the shoulders and ripped the mechanical piece from the wooden armature that it was attached to. He flung it only several inches across the cart but at least now he could see the little gnome.

“Shut yah flappin yap hole!”

“Betty! Oh no, look what you’ve done to her!” Whistletorque sobbed as he reached his fat little hand over to squeeze the stump where her little mechanical elf hand would have been. “You’ll never play the flute again. . .”

“It was a fife. . .” replied the dwarf.

“You do care!” the gnome shouted suddenly.

Brox snorted gruffly and it would have been a much louder ruckus if it had not been for the sound of the elves outside gathering and a pounding on the side of the cart which came from the same guard that let them in.

“Doctor Whistletorque, we’ve assembled our eager patrons, please feel free to open your cart so we may peruse.”

Brox then looked over at the doctor. The doctor would look back at him. This was the moment they had been waiting for. There was no turning back, there was no chance to second guess. They had to act and they would have to act fast if they were going to get away with this and live.

Brox slowly moved away and the good doctor grabbed his wrist.

“Wait you’re not going to give a pep talk or anything?” he squeaked as if expecting some sort of response.

All he got was a groan.

Moments later the entire group of elves had set up outside the cart. They were all seated on whatever they could find that was lying around the camp. Buckets, stumps, even pieces of armor and machinery. Chairs were a luxury and only few were used by those lucky enough to have found them.

But as usual, the doctor and his performing party would assume their position. Go through the same entire ordeal they had at the front gate; minus Betty of course who had been viciously ripped away and be-handed, though oddly enough her musical magical fife still played strong in spirit. And together they put on the show of a lifetime for these eagerly anticipating elves.

When the panting little gnome had finished his pop-and-lock dance, and the music had subsided, he leapt from the stage onto his pedestal and proudly bowed to a rousing applause and laughter.

“Thank you very much all of you!” he began after giving a short, chubby little bow. “Without further a due! Let me begin!”

Whistletorque flipped; or at the very best, rolled slightly forward enough to fall onto the ground and land on his feet, and planted himself firmly down on the ground before them.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, Children of all ages. Allow me to proudly introduce you to Doctor Westley P. Whistletorque and his traveling medical marvels!” the good doctor jumped into an X formation with his legs out to each side, his arms up above and his head tilted back.

“Ta-da. ta-da. taaaa-taaaaa!” like a piano ramping up to start an old saloon performance, the gnome would sing out that phrase, turn and openly display his arms to point toward the cart, and in the same motion Brox would slam his fist against the side opening all the doors and all of their wares.

Unbeknownst to all of them, at the very same second the cart was opened, several loud explosions could be heard all over the camp. Pieces and parts went flying into the air as the sounds of screaming and painful agony could be heard.

It appeared that charges had been planted all around the camp. As the elves started to panic and the little gnome and dwarf leapt under their cart for cover, they came face to face with one another.

“Did you--”

“I didn’t did---”

“Well then who tha fuck set charges tah blow this place!”

The two peddling swindlers were huddled together, the sounds outside that could be heard were of voices around their cart..

“Alliance! They’re ambushing!”

“They’re operatives from SI:7, get the magister back to his tent, to safety quick!”

Both gnome and dwarf then looked at one another and suddenly started laughing hysterically at the situation they had found themselves in. It was easier to just hide here and let the Alliance be the ones to kill these guys than to have either one of them get their own hands dirty. Brox would smile, but it would be short lived. His feet were grabbed and he was slowly dragged out from under the cart.

“Wha-!”

One of the elven guards slammed him up against the cart with a blade to his neck. He would snarl and spit at the dwarf.

“This was all a plan to get our guard down. You alliance scum, you’re all the same.” he leaned in close and gave another snarl at the dwarf. “I’m going to enjoy cutting you into little pieces you dirty rock dwelling filth!”

Brox most certainly took offense to that, and as the face of the beautiful elven man got too close with his insults, he suddenly lurched forward as far as he could and took a bite of the perfectly chiseled nose.

This would cause the elf to fall back in pain immediately, screaming and writhing. And ultimately humiliated when the nose was spat back onto him.

“Don’t worry! Don’t panic! Im a doctor I can fix that!” Whistletorque said slowly squirming out from under the cart. “Oh and you get a free lunch too with all medical purchases, you’ll need firs-tht aid oitment so that counts-th, Isn’t that cool?”

“Gnome, listen. Ah’m gonna deal wit’ some o’ these elfy pricks. You get in that tent and make sure that Magister dies.” Brox said as he grabbed the gnome by the shoulders and gave him a little shake.

“You’re not planning on trying to kiss-th me are you, cause-th it kinda looks-th like youre gonna t--”

“Gnome!” Brox shouted and gave him another shake. “Get your arse in gear!”

“B-b-but we’re safe here.” The sound of screaming, explosions and armor against weapons were heard everywhere. They were far from safe. “Why not let this-th die down just a bit, just a tad or so. . . then we can make our move!”

“Listen to me, sure we could stay here and hide. We could stay here safe and sound and just wait this out. We could j. . .” Brox was cut short because at that very moment, Hammy had finally decided that the food he had been eating out of the bucket was no longer the food he wanted. And thusly the cart slowly wobbled its way about ten feet forward to where another food bucket was waiting. Now exposed, the two pint sized heroes were able to see the entire fight of Alliance versus Horde.

Both of them looked at one another for a moment before finally realizing the truth of the matter.

“Right, yeah. . .I should probably s-thtart moving. . .”

“Yah. . .right. good idea. . . ”

And with that, Brox grabbed the glave of the noseless guard and started into battle killing any of the Sin’dorei that were near them. The benefit of these two infiltrating a Horde camp that was under attack, well, just attack the enemy. They’d blend right in.

Whistletorque on the other hand, would need to take his time. Carefully trying to get into the tent which seemed to be a mile and a half across the entire battlefield. For the love of all things gnomish why did it have to be so far away.

Under legs and bodies that were being smashed and bashed. Around tables and chairs and gods only knew whatever the hell that was. He would maneuver his way through the battlefield in order to try and get to that tent. The tent that undoubtedly housed the Magister that was in charge.

He would sneak right up to the side of it eventually, after just a bit of time. His winded little chest heaving up and down; it was hard for such a fragile little fat creature to hustle like that without have the time to snack, rest and take a short nap. But try as he might, he would flop down on his belly and roll right under the gnome sized crack in the tent in order to get inside.

Careful as a fox, he would get to his feet. His stealth like reflexes and cat like abilities would be his saving grace now. Here, in that tent he was like a ninja assassin. Nobody could know what was about to happen. He would turn and run toward a table. Not a single person saw.

“So badass-th.” he thought to himself.

Another turn, a roll and a quick hop up onto his feet as he slammed against a dresser. His portly body pressed against it like a wet bag of laundry, he looked around.

“The deadly gnomish assassin, Wes-thtley P Whisthletorque.” he hummed allowed in his head. Even going as far as to come up with a theme song.

Another flip, another jump. Scaling a wall backwards with his hands. In reality he stumbled to get close to another large object to hide behind.

♪♫♪ “Dun dun dun dun, Whisthletorque. Dun dun dun dun, he is-th the gnome with the most. Dun dun dun dun, s-thuch a hero gnome. Dun dun dun dun, gettin cake after this-th. . .”♪♫♪

Back to another corner, then over to a table. And just as he was about to leap out and stab the enemy with his deadly poisoned blades, wait. . .He didnt have blades.

“Wait where are my blades-th?”

He crashed right into a table that was holding a beachball sized glass orb. He never did get a good look at whatever was going on inside the orb but when it rolled back and forth, he would try to stabilize it but ultimately knocking it further over.

He couldn't get onto the table fast enough to catch it and even if he could, it probably would have crushed him. All he could do was stand there on the table and watch it crash onto the ground.

As it smashed into a million little shards of glass, the sound of something coming hissing out of the blue and blackish vapor swirled around the tent.

“. . .what have... you done. . . my . . . .power. . . . . “

The gnome stood there, completely dumbfounded as the vapor and hissing sound continued up into the air and the tops of the tent. It cursed and hissed the entire time until there was nothing but silence, and the waging battle happening outside.

“That was probably bad. . .Oops...”

“You fat, miserable little twerp.” cause the voice of an elven man as he came into view. His fiery red hair was blazing as he ignited his hands and body in flame. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done!”

The gnome institutionally turned and began to crack a joke. “Well if I had to guess that was your observation ball for telling fortunes-th and now you’re screwwwwwwed.”

The Magister snarled and came ever closer. “I am High Magister Arcadius Sinefel of the Court of Quel’Thalas. You will pay dearly for that insult gnome. Mark my words, I will not leave this tent witho--”

There was nothing more to be said. In an instant, Whistletorque had flung a grabbing device that looked like a cylindrical defibrillator right toward the Magister. It miraculously latched onto his chest and immediately began to electrify the man. It tazed and shocked him into submission as the victim fell to the floor and began to salivate and drool.

“Oh geez, Oh gods-th! S-thir. . . .S-thir I am s-tho s-thorry!” Whistletorque leapt off the table and started toward the man on the ground who was writhing in a convulsive seizing. “Oh. . .wow that thing looks-th like it hurts-th.”

The tazed magister continued to sizzle and growl but hardly able to make words form into sentences because of the amount of amperage that was pulsing through him. He would reach toward the doctor with a sizzling, flesh burning hand but the little gnome would side step that inconspicuously.

“Ooooh geez. . . thats only going to get worse too. . .I must have miscalculated that one. . .”

Brox suddenly burst into the tent. He had heard the yelling outside. He was covered in blood and still holding the glave he had stolen from the guard.

“Wha-...”

“It isn’t what it looks-th like!” the gnome shouted as he tried to leap in front of Brox so he couldn’t see it.

“Well. . .it sorta looks like you’re tryin’ tah fry a man tah deat’ wit’ a remote control sausage.”

The gnome would slowly glance over his shoulder, his magnified eyes were honed in on the scene for quite some time before turning back to face his counter part.

“While it does-th certainly look as-th though that is the case, I can completely assure you th. . “ Whistletorque groaned and shook his head. “Yeah, no that’s pretty much dead on the nose-th accurate there.”

Brox burst into laughter and leaned in to slap the gnome on the shoulder.

“Well done lad!”

“Well d-- Well don.. . what do you mean Well done? This-th isnt how this-th is supposed to work. It was supposed to give you an accurate read out on your vitals-th! I just threw it at him to distract him ,so I could run away!” the gnome confessed as he tried to push the meaty arm stump off his shoulder.

“What a s-thtupendous disaster!”

Brox continued to laugh and pointed at the now drooling and frying man who was behind him.

“A fire wizard. . .immune to most magics that are elemental. . .” the dwarf said mocking Pyravari. “Good thing you just wanted to check his vitals, Doctor.”

Between the laughing and gurgling of the now boiling man behind them, Whistletorque did start to crack a smile. His smile cracked a grin. And that grin then birthed a little chuckle of his own.

“At least he’ll get a free lunch too?” chimed the little gnome.

They both shared a good laugh. In the meantime, several of the SI:7 members would rush into the tent and see what was going on. Some of them would be force to instantly leave. Others would gasp at the site of a man having his eyes bubble and pop while tens of thousands of volts of electricity were pumped into his body. The new guy was over in the corner just yacking when the leader of the little faction came in and said. “Oh---my---god...”

From that point on, little was seen of the dark iron dwarf and his mischievious gnomish companion. They waltzed through the clean up of dwarves, humans and elves who were there to kill the magisters and probably would have had far more casualities if it had not been for the pairing of W.W.M.D and co. But they would not be seen again. They simply mounted their cart, gave ol’ Hammy a little yank on the reigns and slowly trotted their way out of the Searing Gorge on their rickety, wobbly old cart.

Another Magister Down.

Continued in “In Depths Below: Midnight Hour, Part 4″

@zalraazurestar

@whatadarkbitch

@pyravari-kashebahl

@siidaraykashebahl

@suncrest-legacy

@daltalah

@thebladeitself

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naijastudio · 3 years ago

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You'll Need These Yoruba Phrases in Nigeria

If you pay a visit to the Yoruba-speaking south-western states of Nigeria, you’ll need some essential phrases to get by. Here’s our pick of the 21 most essential phrases you’ll need. English is the common language used in Nigeria. However, there are three other major official languages used across the country, namely: Hausa, Yoruba and Igbo. The Yoruba people of Nigeria account for about 21 percent of the population – making them a major tribe and one of the largest ethnic groups in West Africa. A Yoruba bride Ẹ n lẹ (en-le): Hello The tradition of the Yoruba people places much emphasis on greetings generally – it’s a very significant part of their culture, especially when addressing older people. The women kneel down to greet, while the men lay flat on the ground facing downwards. Ẹ n lẹ means hello in this part of Nigeria. The Yoruba people of north-western and central Nigeria are known for being firm believers in upholding manners and etiquette. ‘Thank you’ in the Yoruba dialect will automatically earn you some good points. E se is used when referring to an older person, while o se can be used with friends and people the same age as you. If a Yoruba person should ask if you are a visiting tourist in Nigeria, for example, you can reply with either bẹẹ ni, which means ‘yes’, or ra ra, meaning ‘no’. A Yoruba man and some boys pose during a game Nibo ni baluwẹ wa: Where is the bathroom? Needing the bathroom when nobody around understands your language is obviously frustrating. So if you find yourself surrounded by Yoruba-speaking people, then nibo ni baluwe wa? translates as ‘where is the bathroom?’. Ya sowo otun (ya-so-wo-o-tun)/ya si apa osi (ya-see-apa-oh-see): Turn left/turn right Lost in the city? Ya sowo otun means ‘turn right’ and ya si apa osi means ‘turn left’. If you’re travelling in a taxi you’ll need to tell the driver where to drop you off. The Yoruba phrase for ‘stop here’ is duro nbẹ. The amazing Natural History Museum in Osun State The Yoruba people are known to make very spicy and delicious food. Perhaps you’ll eat one of their sumptuous meals and then feel the need to express your satisfaction to the cook or your host. O dun simply means ‘it is sweet’ or ‘delicious’. Ebi n pa mi (a-bi-pa-me): I’m hungry Food is life and knowing how to ask for food in north-western and central Nigeria is essential. Ebi n pa mi translates to ‘I’m hungry’. The hot weather in Nigeria makes omi an important word to know. Omi in the Yoruba language means water. Eelo ni eleyi?: How much is this? Nigerian markets can be tricky for visitors. Throwing in some Yoruba words while bargaining will definitely give you an edge and establish a connection with local sellers. Want to know how much something costs? Ask eelo ni eleyi?. Gb’owo l’ori (Bo-wo-lo-ri): Too expensive Perhaps the price of the item you want to buy is way over your budget. Gb’owo l’ori is the Yoruba way to express your displeasure with the prices. O won is more common in today’s parlance. You’ll find that knowing the numbers in a Nigerian language will come off as necessary in buying from local traders. One: ikan; two: meji; three: meta; four: merin; five: marun; six: mefa; seven: meje; eight: mejo; nine: mesan; 10: mewa are the Yoruba numbers from one to 10. Statues in Oshun Grove lẹwa/arewa Okurun: Beautiful/handsome The Nigerian people are friendly and commonly mix compliments into conversation. Knowing some compliments could present you with an opportunity to make new and lasting friendships. Ję ka mu nkan: Let’s get a drink After an eventful day of making friends, grabbing a drink with them is the next logical step. Ję ka mu nkan means ‘let’s get a drink’. Everyone loves to be missed, saying ‘I miss you’ in the Yoruba language could make it even more special for the receiving party. The Yoruba people say bawo ni? to ask about your wellbeing. It’ll make for a nice gesture to ask your new friends how they are. Pe awọn ọlọpaa: Call the police In case of an emergency, pe awọn ọlọpaa in Yoruba means ‘call the police’. Kosi wahala (Ko-see-wa-ha-la): No problem Just like hakuna matata means no worries in Swahili, kosi wahala means ‘no problem’ to the Yoruba people. E jọwọ means ‘excuse me’ in the Yoruba language when you need to get someone’s attention. Emi yoo ri ọ ni ọla: See you tomorrow Planning on hanging out a little longer than a day? Emi yoo ri ọ ni ọla means ‘see you tomorrow’. Orukọ mi ni…: My name is… Read the full article

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foundcarcosa · 7 years ago

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cccx.

What was the last thing you ate and why? >> It was hatch chile macaroni and cheese that came in, like... a takeout container looking thing. You put the whole thing in the microwave just like that and then eat it right out of the box. It was wild-lookin and I just had to try it. It was pretty good mac and cheese, all told (and as a rule I don’t like mac and cheese, so). What was the last thing you drank and why? >> Water. Because my lips were peeling and that always reminds me (or, guilts me) into drinking water. How many tabs do you have open and what are they? >> Six. The Hellblazer issue I’m currently on, the Doctor Strange: Sorcerer Supreme issue I’m currently on, this transcript for an interview that a follower tagged me in a week ago that I keep meaning to finish/reread but keep forgetting about, facebook, livejournal, and this tab. What browser do you prefer to use? >> Chrome. What’re five random things on your desk besides any computer-related items? >> A Vivec (Elder Scrolls) Funko Pop, my bracelets, a wind-up crab toy.

What room are you in right now? >> Mine. What color are the walls and floor in that room? >> White and some dun hue, respectively. What’re the items closest to you that’re red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, pink, white, gray, brown, black, silver and gold? Out of all the things you listed, which is your favorite? >> Oy vey. I’ll pass. What kind of chair are you sitting in? >> I’m on a futon. Don’t remind me. Where would you prefer to be right now? >> My standard answer is “New Orleans”. Right now, at least I’m in my own room. That’s more than I’ve ever had as an adult. Do you have any plans this weekend? >> The tulip thing at Holland (MI). Maybe I’ll get to check out the Pathfinder RPG group on Sunday, too. Are you excited for anything this month? >> Well, it is my birth month. What’s the date today? Is there anything special about today? >> 8 May 2018. Pillars of Eternity II: Deadfire dropped today, which is something I backed from the start and was very excited about for at least a year. I got to play a little of it this evening after eight million hiccups and... man. I am so happy I got to be a small part of that production. It’s so amazing. What a game series. Have you ever traveled outside of your home country? >> No. Can you speak, read and/or write in another language besides English? >> Bits and pieces here and there. What language course did you take in school, if any? >> Spanish, since my options were limited. What language would you most like to learn? >> German, as in... a decent command of it, not... whatever I’ve managed to put together from Duolingo and Memrise. But I just pick that because it’s the only one I’ve worked on learning at all in recent years; actually, any language would do. Languages are just fuckin cool. What grade are you in right now? >> I’m not. What was your dream job when you were a little kid? >> Hmm. Speaking of dreams, when was the last time you had a sleeping dream and what was it about? >> The last one I remember involved... a lot of things that I can’t properly convey in text because the imagery is all jumbled and disjointed. I think I was on a spaceship. Do you wake up a lot in the middle of the night? >> Not unless there’s noise. What genre of books do you like to read? >> I’m pretty flexible. It’s easier to name genres I don’t read: mystery, YA, Harlequin-esque romance. Do you prefer physical books or a Kindle, Nook or other e-reader? >> I like both for different reasons, and will use both (simultaneously -- I always have one e-book and one physical book going at a time). Did you ever sometimes flip through your textbooks even when you didn’t need to? >> I loved textbooks. I used to swipe them from classes that I didn’t take, just so I could read the material. What types of magazines do you read? >> New Scientist and Revolver are the ones I read the most. Well, not so much New Scientist anymore, since my subscription ran out. Have you ever ordered anything through a catalog? >> No. Would you prefer to read a book, watch a movie or TV show, or play a video game? >> I mean, I do all three on a regular basis... What are five of your favorite TV shows? >> Person of Interest, Grey’s Anatomy, Community, Hannibal, Carnivale. Do you prefer to watch movies at home or to go out to the theater? >> That depends on the movie. I love the theater experience but most movies I can stand to just watch at home where I can do what I want. So I save the theater experience for stuff like space epics and Marvel films. I think the next thing we’ll be seeing is Solo because I’m hype for that. Do you usually get popcorn or soda at the movie theater? >> No, because I usually can’t justify that expense. I don’t even like popcorn anyway. What genre of films do you like the best? >> Space, I guess. That’s not a genre but listen. Do you like movies based off of books? >> Sure, as a concept. I am often disappointed by the execution, but that won’t stop me.

#surveysofsamedi #surveys

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saudivadaily · 4 years ago

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'Cause you was slippin', yep, you clumsy And everything I peeped, can't just unsee. Sips tea, and it's unsweet Respect bad gyal when mi dun speak! #yellowrainbow #yellow #arch #archyourback #pointyourtoes #hipsfordays #tellem #gringe #perplexed #beauty #bee #queen (at Los Angeles, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/CLmvut_BtzG/?igshid=18wrxa0kothq6

#yellowrainbow #yellow #arch #archyourback #pointyourtoes #hipsfordays #tellem #gringe #perplexed #beauty #bee #queen

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perfectirishgifts · 4 years ago

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The Irony And Insecurities Of Attacks On Jill Biden’s Title

New Post has been published on https://perfectirishgifts.com/the-irony-and-insecurities-of-attacks-on-jill-bidens-title-2/

The Irony And Insecurities Of Attacks On Jill Biden’s Title

By now, you probably saw the opinion piece about Dr. Jill Biden. Yes, I am aware of the AP Style guidelines about the use of “Dr.” for qualified medical professionals in journalism. I will revisit that later. For some reason, a writer felt compelled to attack Jill Biden, who earned a doctorate in education from the University of Delaware, for using the term “Dr.” The piece called the usage “fraudulent” and “comic.” There were many things that bothered me about the piece – the misogyny, tone, lack of apparent understanding of doctoral programs, and a blatant level of disrespect for Dr. Biden. He literally called the next First Lady “kiddo.” Given my own personal experiences with this, I wondered, “What’s up with insecurities that some people have about doctorates?”

PITTSBURGH, PA – NOVEMBER 02: Dr. Jill Biden speaks in support of her husband Democratic … [] presidential nominee Joe Biden during a drive-in campaign rally at Heinz Field on November 02, 2020 in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. One day before the election, Biden is campaigning in Pennsylvania, a key battleground state that President Donald Trump won narrowly in 2016. (Photo by Drew Angerer/Getty Images)

First, let’s start off with the blatant irony of it all. The writer chides Dr. Biden, who to my knowledge has not asked anyone to refer to her with the title, as if to diminish the value of her doctoral work. Her dissertation study was in the area of educational leadership and addressed issues of student retention. Her particular focus on the community college environment was refreshing and timely given the trends in higher education. The opinion writer seems to argues that only people with a degree in medicine should be called “Dr.” Here comes the irony.

According to Merriam-Webster online dictionary, “Doctor comes from the Latin word for “teacher” and originally referred to a small group of theologians who had approval from the Church to speak on religious matters.” Over time, the term was broadened to include medical and other professionals. Etymonline.com notes that the description, “holder of the highest degree in a university, one who has passed all the degrees of a faculty and is thereby empowered to teach the subjects included in it,” is from the late 14th Century. The use of the term “doctor” in medicine was not as common until the latter 16th Century.

These days there are numerous types of degrees with “doctor” in the United States:

Doctor of Philosophy (PhD)

Doctor of Business Administration

Doctor of Education (EdD)

Doctor of Theology

Doctor of Science (DSc)

Doctor of Juridicial Science and Doctor of the Science of Law

Doctor of Jurisprudence (J.D.)

ALEPPO, SYRIA – DECEMBER 11: A group of Turkish specialist doctors come to Cobanbey Hosptial to … [] carry out operations for 40 patients including 21 children as part of a project organized by Turkish Health Ministry, in Cobanbey district which was liberated from terrorists within the Operation Euphrates Shield in Syria on December 11, 2020. (Photo by Omer Alven/Anadolu Agency via Getty Images)

I happen to have a PhD in Physical Meteorology from The Florida State University. It was attained after a rigorous 5-year program of coursework, research, dissertation writing, and publications. The Jill Biden case reminded me of a few times people have said things like, “oh you aren’t a real doctor, you have a PhD.” Most people that say this probably mean no harm and are simplifying understanding of what a doctor is to their most common experience. After all, the average person does not encounter folks with doctoral degrees as often as they do their family doctor, dentist, or medical specialist. However, that lack of familiarity does not lessen the rigor of other doctoral programs.

I think the editorial has roots in this “not a real doctor narrative,” but there was something more sinister. I read it just after watching Sarah Fuller become the first woman to kick a field goal in a Power 5 college football game. It was such an uplifting moment that my 17 year old daughter gleefully shared with me. Unfortunately, this article oozed with misogyny, disrespect for a woman’s professional credentials (a huge problem in workplace gender equity issues) and micro aggressions.

While perhaps not the motive of the opinion piece, it also caused me to reflect on the toxic perspective some people have towards “experts” or expertise. It is mind-blowing how much mis-information I see posted about climate change, weather, or coronavirus. The current era of “information access” and “Dunning Kruger Effect (a psychological concept whereby people overestimate what they know or underestimate what they don’t know) has, in the minds of some people, rendered experts as obsolete or even adversaries. This political cycle, for example, President-Elect Biden was ridiculed for “listening to the scientists.” Because of this era, I feel that experts should be referred to in media outlets with their “Dr.” Plumbers, attorneys, and other professions have ways of establishing their credentials. At a time when bad science is spread like a virus itself, scientific experts need that also.

One other thing that came to mind about this “Dr.” flap is insecurity. Psychology studies have shown that people’s accomplishments can make others uncomfortable. Ashley Laderer wrote in Talkspace.com, “It’s human nature for us to compare ourselves to others, and it’s no surprise that sometimes, that results in jealousy and feeling lousy.” She says these feelings of insufficiency and jealousy can be more acute for people with low self esteem. I guess that it is possible that “Dr.” may trigger self-esteem issues or feelings of inadequacies in some people if studies are accurate.

There is another road that I could have traversed. There have been many encounters in my career in which I was in the room with other PhDs. They were being addressed as “Dr.,” while I was being referred to as “Marshall.” I will address this racial micro aggression at another time. By the way, I really don’t want to be called “Dr. Shepherd” outside of my professional settings. If you meet me, “Marshall” is just fine. I bet Jill Biden feels the same way about her name too. From my perspective, titles don’t define anyone. How you treat people does.

People take part in a “reopen” Pennsylvania demonstration on April 20, 2020 in Harrisburg, … [] Pennsylvania. – Hundreds have protested in cities across America against coronavirus-related lockdowns — with encouragement from President Donald Trump — as resentment grows against the crippling economic cost of confinement. (Photo by Nicholas Kamm / AFP) (Photo by NICHOLAS KAMM/AFP via Getty Images)

From Media in Perfectirishgifts

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charm-in-spades · 7 years ago

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Twinkling stars for all of them

Dreamy Asks 💭 ][♠][ | Twinkling stars: tell me something unique about yourself!

The Kupo Killer - “Pain is such a beautiful, genius beast. I once told my children that you never know a man until you’ve seen him angry. And that’s true, but only partially. It’s when they’re introduced to the element of fear that you truly understand the measure of another. Pure terror. These are raw emotions that bring out our greatest or our worst self. Now, you put a creature that’s never experienced either into a predicament where they suddenly -have- to…well that’s a whole new ball game. That’s what fascinates me about them lil’ mog creatures and the nature of my…studies…well, it ain’t a slow process by any means, but they show me in intimate detail just how much these things change when faced with somethin’ new. When I finish with ‘em, there ain’t usually much left but I always keep the Poms as a memento.” - Wilhelm Eronius Brawn

The God’s View - “I always stay busy. My capabilities and intense focus allow me to complete certain tasks on an insane level so most of the time, once I finish priority issues like the Glass Network or when time with Synne comes to a close, I often find myself without much to do. In these periods of free time, my go to is usually working out or tinkering. Due to the latter, I’ve a few shops set up around Eorzea and cameras all over to monitor various places at once. I view this all from a high end computer system I’ve created and I call it the God’s View. Because I joke around and say it sees all. Admittedly, it sees quite a bit and spying on people tends to keep me occupied.”

Su Casa Mi Casa - “Heh. I make a good bit workin’ fa’ Sterlin’ but I luv’ my women an’ I luv’ my liquor. Figure, if I dun’ gotta pay fa’ rent, then I got a lot less to spend on my two favorite vices. So, I make a habit a’ scopin’ out a few houses from time t’time an’ live in ‘em while nobody else is home. Provides a pretty savvy view’a people’s lifestyles. While I’m there, I make myself comfortable. Take a show’a, sleep on’a bed, an’ if the place is nice an’ stocked, I hit up their medicine cabinets an’ take the cough syrup an’a pain meds. Oh righ’, an’ food. I eat their food too.”

The Sixth Sense - The icy chill of his presence dropped the temperature of his location. “A good commander always seeks the high ground. It is what often is said. Before every battle, I find the highest point so that I can check the terrain and when my company moves through, we decimate them. After the battle is always the most beautiful to me. These violent confrontations leave behind a presence. I return to these war grounds time and time again so that I can listen when the dead speak.”

Mr. Clean - “I’m a man of many talents and services in a business where transactions like mine are a very wanted commodity but a limited resource. When it comes down to it, I’m all about elimination of the competition, or extraction of certain evidential elements. I solve the problems of my clientele and handle sensitive business necessities when needed. Think of me like a consultant with solutions so good it’s practically criminal. My specialties are wide and range from keeping things neat and clean to even providing the occasional dinner reservation. If you want to know the details, I can only say so much. Client Discretion is also an important part of what I do and when it comes to information my lips are contractually obligated to stay sealed.”

Peace of Mind - “I’ve always been keen on the water. Growing up in the Shroud, didn’t see a whole lot outside of rivers and lakes. The ocean though, the first time I saw that I remember thinking I’d never seen anything so blood beautiful. I take Bhenji out regularly to see the waves and play in the sand. Little guy loves it almost as much as I do. When A’njha doesn’t work, we night crawl and catch Eastern La Noscea when the moon is full and shining bright. Leads to romantic and memorable moments.”

Special thanks to @baenling, @elibraddock. and @lizardwaifu for letting me borrow their home, and doing some poses for me!

Mentions: @elldysharrow for the ask!

#elldysharrow #Prompts #About my boys #About Ric

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pcwpolwrestling · 6 years ago

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Progressive Alliance Says No to Trump/Elizabeth Warren Has a Beer: PCW Extreme Political TV on P-SPAN

Tonight on Extreme Political TV on P-SPAN -The shutdown continues. -Nancy Pelosi adjourns Executive Committee meeting early leaving American Patriots wondering what’s going on. -PCW Heartland Owner Dawn McGill announces Heartland Title Tournament Semi-Finals. -Elizabeth Warren has a beer at the show. -New Universal PCW Champion Ray McAvay speaks.

================================

[ON SCREEN GRAPHIC: Blue background. The top of the Capitol Building occupies the left hand side of the television screen.

Centered in the middle of the screen: “P-SPAN. THE POLITICAL CHANNEL.”]

P-SPAN Announcer (off screen): The P-SPAN Network bring you long-form public affairs programming from the nation’s capital and are a public service of…

[ON SCREEN GRAPHIC: Logos of twenty three different cable and satellite television companies replace the Capitol Building and P-SPAN graphic.]

P-SPAN Announcer (v/o): …your television provider.

[ON SCREEN GRAPHIC: Returns to the blue background with the top of the Capitol Building occupying the left hand side of the television screen with “P-SPAN. THE POLITICAL CHANNEL.” centered in the middle of the screen.]

P-SPAN Announcer (v/o): P-SPAN. The Political Channel.

===============================

Johnny Suave (voiceover): This week, the Progressive Alliance’s Nancy Pelosi took over the President’s role in the PCW Executive Committee and demanded PCW CEO Donald Trump drop his security plan in order to end the shutdown of the Blue and Red Brand shows.

Cut to: Thursday January 3rd – Washington D.C. Nancy Pelosi (CA-Progressive Alliance) stands behind a podium with Chuck Schumer (NY-Progressive Alliance).

Major players in the Progressive Alliance stand in the background. Pelosi promises to lead an Executive Committee that delivers results for the people, opens up opportunities for PCW’s wrestlers and lifts up their lives.

Was the rest of the Progressive Alliance on board?

Rashida Tlaib (MI-Progressive Alliance): We’re going to impeach that mother *BLEEP* (that would be PCW CEO Donald Trump)

Adam Schiff (CA-Progressive Alliance): We’re going to indict that mother *BLEEP* (also PCW CEO Trump)

Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (NY-Progressive Alliance): I just want to buy everyone groceries…with PCW’s money…of course. But Dawn McGill refuses to and said mean things about me.

Pelosi also again reiterates that the Progressive Alliance will not agree to CEO Trump’s security enhancements and demand that he sit down and work with them to end the shutdown.

Nancy Pelosi: We will not agree to upgrade security. It’s not happening. It’s time to end Trump’s shutdown and reopen the Blue and Red Brand shows for our fans.

Johnny Suave (v/o): Fast forward to the Blue Brand scheduled shows in Providence, Rhode Island and Buffalo, New York this weekend.

Cut to: Dunkin Donuts Center – Providence RI The arena is empty. On the scoreboard, “Welcome Blue Brand Show!”

Cut to: Keybank Center – Buffalo, NY The arena is also empty. On the scoreboard, “Welcome Blue Brand Show!”

Johnny Suave (v/o): The Red Brand scheduled shows in Birmingham, Alabama and Nashville, Tennessee.

Cut to: Birmingham-Jefferson Convention Complex – Birmingham, AL The arena is empty. On the scoreboard, “Welcome Red Brand Show!”

Cut to: Bridgestone Arena – Nashville, TN The arena is also empty. On the scoreboard, “Welcome Red Brand Show!”

Johnny Suave (v/o): Early on January 4th, Pelosi, Schumer, and the Executive Committee sat down and got to work on finding a solution to end the shutdown.

Cut to: The Executive Committee Room – Washington D.C. Pelosi moves to adjourn for the weekend. Steny Hoyer (MD-Progressive Alliance) seconds. The Progressive Alliance quickly stands and streams out the door as fast they can leaving a confused and bewildered American Patriot Leader Kevin McCarthy (CA-American Patriots) looking at the American Patriots in the room.

Kevin McCarthy: Hey! Where’d everyone go? Does anybody know what’s going on?

Johnny Suave (v/o): Apparently, the American Patriots have no clue what’s going on.

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PCW Extreme Political TV on P-SPAN Sunday January 6th, 2018 Taped January 5th at the Landon Arena Topeka, Kansas

Announcers: “The Voice of PCW” Johnny Suave ‘Low Level Reporter at the New York Times Trying to Make a Name for Herself’ Colleen Crowder

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The camera pans around the arena. Everyone is on their feet and chanting: “PCW!…PCW!…PCW!”

Suave welcomes everyone to PCW Extreme Political TV.

Crowder complains about the opening and how it depicts the Progressive Alliance.

Colleen Crowder: Our narrative is that the shutdown is all Donald Trump’s fault plus it’s wrong that PCW Heartland owner Dawn McGill gets to run her shows while the PCW Blue and PCW Red Brand shows…bigger shows…are forced to stay home.

Suave notes that Professor McCarthy from Berkeley, California did follow through on his vow to protest at all three PCW Heartland house shows this weekend. Also protesting at the Friday night Tulsa, Oklahoma show, several wrestlers from the PCW Blue Brand.

Cut to: Professor McCarthy Protests Earlier in the night, Professor McCarthy, joined by the Green World Order (Peta from PETA, GreenPete, ‘Extreme Vegan’ Brock Cole Lee, and PeaceNick, the Young Jerks (Zenk Cryger, James Idahola, and Anna- the foul-mouthed sidekick), the Deep State (One and Two), Emily S. List, and Codee Pink stand outside the Black River Coliseum.

PCW Heartland owner Dawn McGill walks by. The Professor and his Flock start yelling all kinds of nasty invectives at her. McGill rolls her eyes and flips them off as she enters the arena.

Colleen Crowder: Now, was that really necessary?

Johnny Suave: I don’t know. Was it necessary for McCarthy and his goons to shout at Dawn like that?

Colleen Crowder: Yes. That’s freedom of speech.

Suave turns and flips off Crowder. She’s offended and demands an apology.

Johnny Suave: Nope, that’s freedom of speech too.

DAWN McGILL ADDRESSES THE PCW FAITHFUL Dawn’s in the ring and she welcomes everyone to PCW. She says it’s taken a year and a half to get back from when the Establishment took PCW off the air in May 2017 and talks about the hard work that’s gone on behind the scenes to get to tonight. Dawn wants to reiterate something she said over a year and half ago.

Dawn McGill: I said this on May 14th, 2017 and it holds true today. Paul Ryan or Kevin McCarthy whoever in charge there don’t get it. Mitch McConnell, Nancy Pelosi, and Chuck Schumer don’t get it. I still wonder sometimes if Donald Trump actually gets it. But let me make this clear to the Establishment…PCW is not here for you. PCW is not here for the Sports Entertainment Corporation and CSPN. PCW is not here for the American Patriots. PCW is not here for the Progressive Alliance. PCW is here for…YOU…the fans. We don’t need the American Patriots. We don’t need the Progressive Alliance. All we need to succeed is you…and your support.

McGill then announces that because of the injury to former champion William Daniels Bryan a Heartland title tournament is being held to crown a new champion. She explains that tournament matches have already taken place at last night’s house show and tonight is the semi-finals. Match one will be Jack Fraiser versus Average Joe. Match two will be SNAFU versus a surprise entrant.

Johnny Suave: And Jack Fraiser versus Average Joe will be right after these messages.

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**COMMERCIAL BREAK**

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Ring Announcer Kimber Marshall is in the ring to introduce the first match.

Jack Fraiser AGE: 24 / HT: 6”3” WT: 205 / HOME: Saskatoon, Saskatchewan FIN: Canadian Crusher Valet: ‘Oootlander Blaire Rendell

The video screen comes to life:

It’s 1946 in the Scottish Highlands.

On the hill of Irish na Dun, British nurse Blaire Rendell hears the tell-tale buzzing sound as she approaches the standing stones. This makes her very happy.]

Blaire Rendell (Scottish accent): Soon, I’ll be back with my true love Jamie and I will be truly happy once again in eighteen century Scotland.

Blaire goes to the standing stones where the buzzing sound gets louder and louder. Soon she faints and falls to the ground. When she wakes up…

Blaire nearly jumps in the air when she encounters the source of the voice. He is dressed in heavy plaid lumberjack shirt, a warm coat, and a tuque.

Blaire Rendell: Wh-who the hell are you? And where the hell am I?

Jack Fraiser: My name is Jack Fraiser. You are in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan Canada.

Blaire Rendell: Saskatoon…Saskatchewan Canada? That can’t be true. I’m supposed to be in Scotland.

[A hockey puck comes flying by just barely missing both of them.]

Blaire Rendell: What the *BLEEP*!

Jack Fraiser: Nope. This is definitely Saskatoon, Saskatchewan Canada.

Average Joe (Perfectly Average Company) AGE: 40 / HT: 6′ 2″ WT: 220 / HOME: Defiance, OH FIN: Average Slam MGR: Tequila Sheila

Then Average Joe comes out with his valet Tequila Sheila.

*Tequila Sheila- Bobby Bare*

Shelia sashays down the aisle to the ring.

‘Pour me another…tequila…’

Sheila spins around as the crowd shouts out: ‘SHEILA!’

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MATCH #1: Jack Fraiser vs. Average Joe Semi-Final of the Heartland Title Tournament They come out quick, working counters and end in a standoff. Fraiser hits a dropkick and drives Average Joe to the floor. They brawl a bit. Both Rendell and Tequila Sheila get involved and eventually the action goes back to the ring. Back in and Average Joe hits an Average Slam. He covers for 2 but Rendell makes the save. Average Joe with uppercuts, chops, and then a back breaker for 2. Average Joe lays in strikes, but Fraiser fires up and they trade strikes. Fraiser hits a hurricanrana. Average Joe rolls to the floor. Fraiser follows with a moonsault to the floor.

Crowd: PCW!…PCW!…PCW!

Back in and Fraiser hits a missile dropkick and rolls into a German for 2. Average Joe counters the Canadian Crusher, but Fraiser follows with kicks. Average Joe counters by low bridging Fraiser, and follows with a head kick. Body slam countered into a cradle by Fraiser for 2. Fraiser hits another slam but Average Joe kicks out at 2. Fraiser heads up top, but Average Joe crotches him and leaves him in the tree of woe. Average Joe gets a chair and dropkicks it into Fraiser’s face. Fraiser tries to roll out. Average Joe pulls him back in. Fraiser fights him off and hits a double stomp. Average Joe kills Fraiser with a lariat. Average Slam is countered and Fraiser hits a cradled tombstone for a near fall. Average Joe fires back with kicks. Average Joe again looks for an Average Slam and Fraiser counters. He hits the Canadian Crusher. Cover. One…two…three.

WINNER: Jack Fraiser @ 12:33 (8:30 shown on TV)

Johnny Suave: Jack Fraiser gets his biggest PCW win yet. Good back and forth battle but Fraiser is able to counter Average Joe’s Average Slam and hits his finisher to go through to the finals.

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**COMMERCIAL BREAK**

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ELIZABETH WARREN- 1/1024TH ORDINARY PERSON Back from the break, the camera pans up to where Elizabeth Warren (MA-Progressive Alliance) is sitting in the crowd. She’s having a beer and talking with the people surrounding her.

Suave is a little cynical about Warren showing up at the show. Crowder sticks up for her.

Colleen Crowder: All Elizabeth Warren is doing is trying to show that she’s an ordinary person…no different than anyone else.

Johnny Suave: Really now.

Colleen Crowder: She’s just like everyone else.

Johnny Suave: Oh? Because most ordinary people pretend to be a member of a protected class in order to gain preferential treatment at one of the world’s most prestigious universities.

Crowder immediately objects and calls Suave’s response ‘sexist.’

Johnny Suave: Warren is one…one thousand twenty-fourth of an ‘ordinary person.’

Offended, Crowder jumps up from her chair and storms off in a huff.

Suave introduces the replay of new Universal PCW Champion ‘Red Solo Plastic Cup’ Ray McAvay winning the title at PCW Extreme Election Night 2018.

REPLAY: End of the Universal PCW Title Match: Ray McAvay vs. Kirk Walstreit PCW Extreme Election Night 2018

[McAvay slaps on an inverted face lock…hooks the arm…and pulls backwards and up.]

Johnny Suave: DRAGON SLEEPER!

[Dark and Stormy end the striptease. The SEC’s Blackwell, Banks, and Tanaka climb into the ring. Les Miserables’s General DeBauchery, Al Cahall, and Nic Koteen throw themselves at the SEC. Walstreit starts to fade. Several other members of the Les Miserables hit the ring and attack Blackwell, Banks, and Tanaka.]

Johnny Suave: ALL HELL HAS BROKEN LOOSE! WE’VE GOT PEOPLE IN THE RING AND McAVAY IS HANGING ON FOR DEAR LIFE.

[Walstreit’s arm goes limp. McAvay breaks the hold…puts Walstreit’s head between his legs…and hits a sit-down powerbomb.]

Johnny Suave: McGILL BOMB!

[McAvay rolls him up. One…two…THREE!]

Johnny Suave: HE’S DONE IT!

Do You Hear the People Sing?’ – Les Miserables

‘Red Solo Plastic Cup’ Ray McAvay walks out accompanied by his wife Stacee (Dark) Perry- one half of the famed West Texas Adult Entertainment duo Dark and Stormy. Paige ‘Stormy’ Reynolds also walks out. Bert the Janitor comes out fourth. Also joining them, General DeBauchery- who looks like a bizarre combination of the AWA’s Colonel DeBeers and Lt. Aldo from Inglorious Basterds, sporting a black captain’s hat right out of World War II, smoking a cigar and grinning obnoxiously, Al Cahall- sporting six pack abs…oh…that’s a six pack in front of his abs. And then there’s man smoking a cigarette in violation of several anti-smoking ordinances…which is par for the course- Nic Koteen.

McAvay holds up the Universal PCW Title belt as the procession makes its way to the ring.

Johnny Suave: Ray McAvay, in his first match back after being on the shelf for ten months, stunned everyone by walking out of Extreme Election Night 2018 as the Universal PCW Champion.

Flanked by the Les Miserables, McAvay gets a standing ovation. He thanks everyone and promises to be the people’s Universal PCW Champion.

Ray McAvay: The wrestlers of the PCW Red and Blue Brands are sitting at home right now because the Progressive Alliance and the American Patriots can’t agree on anything. We are here in Topeka, Kansas this afternoon because we are here for you. Mr. McMann, the American Patriots, the Progressive Alliance, Professor McCarthy and his Flock with their agendas, they don’t get it. They clearly are doing this for fame, money, power, and ego. I’m wrestling for the fans. I’m wrestling for people like the former Intel employee. I’m wrestling for the people who paid their hard earned income to come here tonight. I’m wrestling for folks like you. I’m not in this for personal fame or glory. I’m in this to entertain. To help people forget real life for a couple of hours. I have my own way- the McAvay way- what I can say? And my way is different from most professional wrestlers. I’m an average schmuck. I show up. Punch in. Shut up. And get to work. My job is to go out to the ring and put on the best show possible for the fans. I’m-

Charlie Blackwell (interrupting): Ray, Ray, Ray.

One half of the Universal PCW Tag Team Champions ‘Charlie Wrestling’ Charlie Blackwell walks out followed by a CSPN film crew.

Johnny Suave: Charlie Blackwell is a former member of the Les Miserables who sold out to ‘Sports Entertainment Genius’ Mr. McMann’s Sports Entertainment Corporation.

Blackwell mock congratulates McAvay on the win and is not surprised he is still ‘slumming’ with the Les Miserables.

Charlie Blackwell: Ray, I left the Les Miserables because I wanted to get paid. Pandering to the common people doesn’t get you paid. That’s why I’m with the SEC now. And now that I’m getting paid, I’m turning my attention towards something you have- the Universal PCW Title.

Blackwell throws out a challenge to the new champion and declares that once the PCW Red and Blue shows start up again, he’ll be coming for the belt.

Charlie Blackwell: Until then, you’ll never see me, Charlie Wrestling, in a substandard dump like this ever again.

Blackwell is booed off the stage.

Johnny Suave: The main event is next!

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**COMMERCIAL BREAK**

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Suave goes right to the ring for the main event.

Kimber Marshall is in the ring to introduce the main event.

*’Feel Invincible’- Skillet*

E.J. Flack leads SNAFU out to the stage.

E.J. Flack: Ladies and gentlemen, forget about ‘rowing the boat.’ Sometimes in life, you have to face the big monster thingy. Sometimes in life, you have to take on something that’s bigger than you even if its huge tusks can shred you to bits in seconds…even if its jagged teeth can tear through you like a hot knife through warm butter. Sometimes when you’re climbing life’s mountain and come up against insurmountable odds, you have to…

Flack pauses for dramatic effect.

Crowd: NARFLE THE GARTHOK!

SNAFU AGE: 33 / HT: 5′ 10″ WT: 200 / HOME: Parts Unknown FIN: American Facebuster

Then Kimber presents SNAFU’s opponent.

*‘No Smoke Without a Fire’ – Bad Company*

The crowd explodes when ‘The One Man American A-List’ Stone Chism, fresh from being released by the PCW Blue Brand, walks out on stage. The same Stone Chism who was unceremoniously dumped out of the Progressive Alliance earlier in the week.

Colleen Crowder has a stroke when she sees Chism on stage.

Colleen Crowder: What is this Progressive Alliance reject doing here? He doesn’t belong here. He couldn’t cut it with the PA and was fired. Discharged. Bye-bye.

‘The One Man American A-List’ Stone Chism HT: 6′ 2″ WT: 225 / HOME: Hollywood, CA FIN: American Blockbuster

Chism climbs in the ring and raises his arms.

Johnny Suave: Dawn McGill did a fair amount of business bringing Stone Chism permanently into PCW Heartland.

Colleen Crowder: The Progressive Alliance determined he wasn’t good enough for the PCW Blue Brand and that’s good enough for me.

Johnny Suave: Right. A former PCW Champion and a two time PCW Television Champion isn’t good enough.

Colleen Crowder: That’s how I’m reporting it.

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MAIN EVENT: ‘The One Man American A-List’ Stone Chism vs. SNAFU Semi-Final of the Heartland Title Tournament

[The referee calls for the bell.]

Johnny Suave: And here we go.

[Collar and elbow tie up. Both men circle and look for position. Flack claps his hands and tries to get the crowd going.]

E.J. Flack: NARFLE THE GARTHOK!

Crowd: NARFLE THE GARTHOK!

[Chism whips SNAFU into the ropes. SNAFU ducks under and hits the ropes. Chism whiffs on the return. SNAFU stops…slaps Chism. They lock up again…Chism pulls hair and SNAFU slaps him again.]

Colleen Crowder: Chism’s pulling the hair. That’s cheating and another reason why he should have been fired from the Progressive Alliance.

[Chism gets pissed and slaps him back. He teases an American Blockbuster…SNAFU rolls from the ring…]

Johnny Suave: Both wrestlers are struggling to gain the advantage in this match up to this point.

Colleen Crowder: The guy who ‘Narfles Garthoks’…and I still maintain that’s sexist in some shape or form…needs to get moving and take this Hollywood Judas out. Chism let down an entire class of people whose main purpose in life is to make our lives happy by entertaining us.

Johnny Suave: And make millions upon millions of dollars and enjoying all the perks and privileges that come with having lots of money.

4th MINUTE […SNAFU escapes from a wristlock. Chism cradles him for the cover.]

[One…]

[Two…SNAFU kicks out.]

[Chism attacks the knee. He goes for a knee bar but SNAFU makes the ropes. SNAFU and Chism exchange strikes. SNAFU hits a running knee strike and then a back breaker. Cover.]

[One…]

[Two…Chism powers out. Coach Flack claps his hands at ringside.]

E.J. Flack: NARFLE THE GARTHOK!

Crowd: NARFLE THE GARTHOK!

[Chism sends SNAFU to the floor. He follows. Then Chism lifts and suplexes SNAFU on the apron. SNAFU tries a desperation drop kick from the apron. Chism sidesteps…pulls him up…and slams him onto the broadcast table.]

5th MINUTE [Chism pulls a table out and throws it into the ring. He drags SNAFU back in and drapes him over the table. Chism climbs to the top turnbuckle…]

Johnny Suave: Chism going airborne!

Colleen Crowder: Someone stop him!

[…and puts SNAFU through the table.]

Crowd: PCW!…PCW!…PCW!

[Chism hooks the legs.]

[One…]

[Two…]

[Thr-…]

Johnny Suave: NO! SNAFU just got the shoulder up in time.

Colleen Crowder: You know, I take that back. Stone Chism does belongs here. While the PCW Blue Brand performs in the best facilities and travel in luxury, Chism can bus from show to show in Dawn McGill’s traveling flea circus.

[Chism lays in the chops. SNAFU fights back and hits a flying forearm. Rights by SNAFU and then a dragon screw. Coach Flack slides a chair in. *WHAP* SNAFU blasts Chism with the chair. He then surfboards the chair and kicks it in Chism’s face. Cover…]

[One…]

[Two…Chism kicks out.]

6th MINUTE [SNAFU hits a dropkick. Body slam. Legdrop. Cover…]

[One…]

[Two…again Chism kicks out.]

[SNAFU on the offensive but Chism cuts him off. SNAFU misses clothesline. Chism belly to belly suplexes SNAFU and holds with the shoulders on the mat…]

[One…]

[Two…]

[SNAFU gets the shoulder up late again. Flack calls SNAFU over and he spills to the floor.]

Johnny Suave: Good move by SNAFU. Regroup. Refocus.

[SNAFU gets instructions and advice from Flack. He rolls back in and another lock up…]

Johnny Suave: This has been a good one between Chism and SNAFU. I almost think Chism is better in this element than he was at PCW Blue.

Colleen Crowder: PCW Blue…and even Red…are superior to anything that goes on down here.

Johnny Suave: I’m going to disagree with that.

Colleen Crowder: Look at the money the wrestlers make. Look at the venues the wrestlers work at. This is why PCW CEO Trump needs to drop this whole ‘security enhancement’ idea and get the big time wrestlers back to work.

Johnny Suave: Bigger ain’t necessarily better. And stop parroting Mr. McMann’s talking points.

10th MINUTE […Chism and SNAFU trade strikes in the middle of the ring. SNAFU flings himself to the ropes and fires across the ring. Chism evades the high crossbody and SNAFU nearly decapitates himself in the ropes. Chism lays in knee strikes. He pulls SNAFU off the ropes and sets him up for a delayed vertical suplex. Vertical suplex. Cover.]

[One…]

[Two…]

[Thre…oh wait. E.J. Flack is talking to the referee.]

Johnny Suave: Flack makes the last ditch save!

E.J. Flack: NARFLE THE GARTHOK!

Crowd: NARFLE THE GARTHOK!

Colleen Crowder: Come on SNAFU!

[Chism gets heated with the referee and claps his hands three times in quick succession.]

11th MINUTE [Flack again slides a chair into the ring. SNAFU grabs it and raises the chair to strike. Chism hits a standing drop kick and bends SNAFU over. He then DDT’s SNAFU onto the chair.]

Colleen Crowder: NO!

[Cover.]

[One…]

[Two…]

[Thr-…SNAFU somehow gets a shoulder up at the last possible second.]

[Chism pulls SNAFU to his feet and lifts him into a vertical suplex position. But this time, he drops to the mat driving SNAFU head first to the mat.]

Johnny Suave: AMERICAN BLOCKBUSTER!

Colleen Crowder: It was better when it was the Hollywood Blockbuster!

[Cover…]

[One…]

[Two…]

[THREE!]

*DING-DING-DING-DING*

Johnny Suave: HE’S DONE IT! THE ONE MAN AMERICAN A-LIST HAS DEFEATED SNAFU AND HE WILL WRESTLE JACK FRAISER NEXT WEEK FOR THE PCW HEARTLAND TITLE!

WINNER: ‘The One Man American A-List’ Stone Chism @ 11:22

Crowder is unhappy with the result.

Post match, Chism gets on the microphone and tells the PCW faithful he’s glad to be there.

Stone Chism: I was tired of being something I wasn’t. I don’t agree with Hollywood values. I’d rather be here with people like you than to be around a bunch of fake, phony, plastic people- OOOOF…

Johnny Suave: IT’S ‘MR. HOLLYWOOD’ KEVIN DANIELS!

Out of nowhere, Daniels runs down and tackles Chism in the ring.

Colleen Crowder: GET HIM! GET HIM!

Daniels and Chism roll around the ring trying to throw punches. The referee tries to get in between the two and gets shoved away.

The crowd buzzes as several more people race down.

Johnny Suave: HERE WE GO! IT’S THE GREEN WORLD ORDER AND THE YOUNG JERKS!

The GWO (Peta from PETA, ‘Extreme Vegan’ Brock Cole Lee, GreenPete, and PeaceNick), the Young Jerks (Zenk Cryger, James Idahola, and their foul-mouthed sidekick Anna), Emily S. List, and Codee Pink hit the ring. Professor McCarthy from Berkley, California directs traffic from the outside.

Professor McCarthy: SHOUT HIM DOWN! SHUT HIM DOWN!

They swarm all over Chism and the One Man American A-List is overwhelmed. Then…

Johnny Suave: HERE COMES RAY McAVAY! AND THE LES MISERABLES!

McAvay clocks McCarthy from behind and decks the Professor. McAvay, General DeBauchery, Al Cahall, Nic Koteen climb into the ring and brawl with the GWO and the Young Jerks. They are joined seconds later by the Island of Misfit Wrestlers (Rah and Halitosis with Regina McGill).

Johnny Suave: …AND RAH AND HALITOSIS!

The end credits start to roll.

Johnny Suave: HEARTLAND TITLE MATCH NEXT WEEK! SEE YOU THEN…

[‘Trumpet Concerto No. 2 in D major – 3 Allegro assai’ begins to play in the background and P-SPAN quickly cuts away to another political event.]

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