One eyed jacks shelby township photos | | Thinkpad Recommendations.

Hey y'all, I'm eying Thinkpad model's as a new laptop and was looking for some recommendations.

I'm gonna be doing :

light web browsing (youtube, zoom, reading the news, etc)
word processing
photo scanning & editing raw files (gimp/darktable)
ripping dvd's and cd's & streaming them off a plex server

-probably going to be multitasking a lot and for extended periods of time [at least 8 hrs a day]
-I'll have it plugged into a monitor sometimes
-im also starting to move more towards privacy and would probably have a linux mint installation
-a fair amount of repairability/upgradability would also be amazing [part of the reason I'm looking at thinkpads and moving away from sleeker, lifestyle products m1 Mac style things]
-I did also really like models like this but I don't really know if that'd be good in terms of longevity since I think the heftier ones are a bit older (?) and I want it to last me at least 5 years.
-My budgets around $400.

Thanks in advance for anything y'all can recommend :)

My wife(Sara) and I had been happily married for 8 years, no kids, no fights, and we have a great sex life. My neighbor(Bill) and his wife moved in across the street 3 years ago and the four of us got along pretty well.
During Covid, we did a lot of online shopping and I installed a Porch Pirate camera with a motion detector that sends me alerts while I'm at work. Yesterday I got a call from the groomer that our dog was ready to pick up and I called my wife at work to see which one of us needed to pick up the dog. Her office said that she had gone home sick at lunch, so I called her to check on her to see if she was alright but she didn't answer. About thirty minutes later the Porch camera sent me an alert and a video showing my neighbor at my door and my wife opening the door in an expensive lingerie set I bought her for Valentine's Day. I worked a lot from home during Covid and have a Remote Desktop on my personal laptop so I can access files and things from my office computer. So I ported into my laptop that was set up at a desk in our bedroom and accessed the camera. When they walked into the bedroom and she started helping him off with his clothes my heart began to pound. With full audio, I watched them make out and eventually have sex first in Missionary and then Sara got on top of him as it's easier for her to finish that way. At that point, I unmuted my work computer and turned the camera on, and said, What the hell do you two think you're doing? Needless to say, that ruined the mood.
They both turned and saw me on the screen, I told Bill that he had three seconds to get out of my house before I sent screenshots to his wife and he got out of there as fast as he could. My wife started crying and I said we would talk when I got home. I left work and drove home, when I got there she was in the shower. I saw her phone lying on the table and I picked it up and opened it up and read a couple of disturbing texts. I didn't have much time as I heard the shower quit so I changed the lock code on her phone so she couldn't erase the evidence before I had a chance to save it. She came in the living room and saw me holding her phone and the color drained from her face. She started to try and get me to listen to her but I shut her down. I turned on the TV and streamed their sex video on the tv, with sound. I asked her what part of that she wanted to explain. She had tears running down her face and she couldn't look me in the eye, I told her she needed to pack a bag and stay at her parent's house until we could sort this out. She wanted to stay and talk but I said this was really raw right now and things would get said that couldn't be taken back. She packed a bag and asked me to call her soon so we could deal with this.
She called on her mom's phone and said her phone was locked and she couldn't use it. I explained I had read a couple of conversations she had with Bill but I didn't have time to read them all so I changed her unlock code so she couldn't purge those messages. She got mad and started to yell so I sent a picture to her mom's phone, it was a great angle showing both of their faces. She got quiet and her voice was breaking really bad saying I couldn't show her family those photos. Her dad is a deacon at his church and they are very religious, Sara even teaches Sunday school to fill in sometimes. I told her that we would talk in the morning and hung up. I called my lawyer and told him what happened and told him to draw up separation and divorce papers. He gave some advice on how to proceed and said she would be served the separation papers tomorrow but the divorce papers would take a few days. I canceled all the credit cards and transferred half of our cash to an account she didn't have access to per the lawyer's advice. I was able to get a locksmith out that day and changed all the locks and the garage and security codes. Then I had a phone conversation with Bill's wife. She said that he was acting all weird when she got home and I explained why and I sent her a couple of screenshots and told her if she wanted it I had it all on video as well. She was livid and I almost worry about his safety when he gets home.
Today my wife showed up at 7:00 only to find her key didn't work. I let her in and I asked for her phone which she argued a bit before handing it over. It took about twenty minutes with her watching as I went through her phone and forwarded the texts I wanted to save to my phone and I handed it back to her. She looked at it for a minute and then at me, she had about twenty texts from her friends wanting to know what happened. I had sent out a couple of group texts to our friends canceling all of our plans and explained I had come home and caught my wife having sex with my neighbor in our bed. She couldn't believe I had outed her to all our friends and how it looked like I had no desire to work things out, and she went on for over an hour about how sorry she was and that we could get past this and go forward. I told her that there was no way I could ever trust her again and that the love I had for her was burnt to ashes as I watched her screw our neighbor in our bed. I told her to pack whatever clothes she could in a suitcase and she could come for the rest of them Saturday.
This afternoon a couple of her girlfriends reached out to me, one telling me that my wife still loved me and we should try and work it out, the other one saying I shouldn't throw our marriage out and that I might be partially to blame. I answered them by sending a screenshot to each of them but I got no response. The rest of our friends have reached out to console me and offer their support. Several of them said they were blocking Sara's number. Saturday, when she comes for her things I will tell her I filed for divorce and we can end this civilly or if she wants to fight it and get ugly I will make sure her whole family and the Youth Minister at her dad's church get a copy of the video.
I'm sorry for this long story, it has been therapeutic to put this all down. I'm still seeing red right now but I know in a day or two it's going to knock the wind out of me. After rereading what I wrote, should I listen to her side of the story as to what brought this on? If for no other reason than to maybe get some closure?

**TL;DR; : I caught my wife having sex with my neighbor on video**

Something that always baffles me is the reality that if we had a made a single different decision, we could've never met. I can recall a million different possibilities within my life, that if I had chose differently I'd have never met you. Makes me think that possibly, fate? Is real.
I feel like people would call us crazy, they'd say, we're young and fate is just a concept of puppy love. But I don't think they'll ever understand, they'll never know how the way you say, "Well hey you, how you doin?" melts me. They'll never be able to pick out the sound of the smile on your face, when you're on the other end of the phone call. They're never going to know what it means to be the object of your affection, they'll never know how comforting your praise and compliments can be.
I appreciate that about you, the way you so easily learn the little things about me. That makes every compliment that much greater, so much more meaningful for me. They aren't skin deep, you've thought about them, made them true for yourself.
We're slow about this, we have to be as we weren't really given a choice. We're open, but private about the bond forming between us. I wish I could say, I wear a great poker face when someone asks who I'm texting. But the truth is, they're only asking because I had the biggest goofy grin on my face and stars in my eyes. They probably watched me bite my lip, and suck in a shakey breath to hide the giggle forming on my lips. I just laugh, and tell them "nobody."
What I really want to tell them is, that I'm texting the one whose going to be my forever. I'm texting the person who so effortlessly takes my breath away, but makes me want to breathe and live at the same time. I'd tell them about the way you walked out of my dreams and into my life, a real life prince charming. I'd tell them about your laugh, and the inside jokes between us. I'd let them see all the sweet photos and texts I've saved, I'd let them meet you.
I have waited my whole life for someone like you, and I'm so proud that I get to be the person on your arm. I'm so proud that I get to help support you while you chase your dreams, that I get to be the queen of your little empire. I'm in love with how excited you are to come to home to the lil homie and I, how you hug him and grab my face and kiss me. I love the way you speak my language, and how every other moment is filled with laughter. The ones that aren't are spent in your arms, while you reteach me how to love and be loved.
I'm glad they'll never know these things, D. I'm forever selfish for all of you.

Kartho awoke at 9am the next morning. When he finally got dressed and went downstairs, he checked the job board and saw that three jobs had already been claimed by his younger companions.
“These kids waking up early,” he muttered snarkily. “Who are they trying to impress?”
After wolfing down a quick breakfast of eggs and some kind of mystery meat that appeared to have been from a reptilian animal of some sort, he walked back to the board and perused it for his first big solo job. A lot of them were typical “go here and slay this” sort of thing, but one near the bottom caught his interest. He leaned down and carefully read the job’s background:
Forest spirit sword stolen.
A tribe of forest spirits attempting to locate a ceremonial wooden sword used in their rites of passage have tracked it to a wealthy aristocrat right here in Port Jona. Archibald Falcon, CEO of the Falcon Merchant Guild, was recently featured in a photo in the Port Jona Times, showing the sword encased in glass in his mansion on the north side of the city.
Enclosed was the picture in question. Falcon was a tall, thin man with round glasses and slicked-back black hair. He had a smug look on his face as he stood in front of a series of shelves lined with treasure. On one of the shelves was the sword in question. It was smaller, like it was designed for one-handed use. Despite being wooden, it didn’t look like a child’s toy. It was intricately carved with many curves and curls. Set near the crossguard was a citrine gem.
“Time to rip off a rich fellow,” Kartho said, tearing the flyer off the board and signing his name on the blank sheet of paper behind it, signifying he had claimed a job.
After leaving the Meadowbirds’ headquarters, Kartho made a beeline for the district where Falcon’s mansion was. It was a residential district near several merchants’ districts, all of which sold high-end items. When he got there he was almost disgusted by how decadent the homes were. The houses were enormous. Each of them were made up of multiple wings and towers. The grounds for each home were wide and sprawling, each of them gated. Guest houses and servants’ quarters were also present. Many of the homes, though not all of them, had private guards stationed at the main gates. Falcon’s home was one that was guarded.
“Paranoid son of a gun,” Kartho said as he observed it from the opposite street corner. The guards briefly glanced at him, but he moved away before they could get suspicious. A block away, he paced, thinking of how he could get in. His grounds were somewhat lacking in thick vegetation, which meant less cover. He was also sure that all entrances and even most windows would be guarded.
“-think the event will be a smash hit.”
A voice spoke from around the corner. Kartho barely heard half the sentence before he turned his attention toward it. Two human men in fine clothing were walking together down the street.
“Ah yes,” said the other man. “Old Archibald hasn’t hosted a party of this caliber in several months. I hear everyone who’s anyone is going to be there.”
“Will Falenias have the gall to show his face?” asked the first man. “His business took a tanking recently. If he had any decency he’d stay away from this.”
“He is certainly not coming,” the second man replied. “I spoke to him yesterday when he came begging to me to help bail him out. He said something about sequestering himself in his office for the next week to find a solution to his financial problems.”
“As well he should,” said the first man. “If he has any desire to remain in high society-“
But Kartho was no longer listening. He dashed down the street and away from the two men. He had an in to Falcon’s house. He was going to impersonate Falenias and crash the party.
It didn’t take long to find out who Falenias was. Kartho visited the nearby merchant districts asking about him. He was the leader of a guild that was falling on hard times due to corrupt business practices. His face was featured in the Port Jona Times a handful of times in the last month alone. Kartho returned to his room at headquarters and stood in front of his mirror along with a photo of his mark. He spent the next hour or so applying illusion magic to himself. He grew his hair so it fell to his shoulders and changed it from black to bright flaming red. His skin reddened slightly, and his irises changed to bright amber. He pulled on his ears until they elongated and pointed, looking perfectly elven. He even managed to increase his height a few inches. He estimated Falenias at six feet, two inches. He then finalized his facial features and transformed his clothing into finery befitting the event. Once he was sure he was done, he twirled around once.
“Mr. Falenias, I presume?” he asked his reflection. He wasn’t sure what Falenias sounded like, so he hoped others wouldn’t notice. He also hoped that the elf’s status as a disgraced businessman would mean nobody would want to be seen with him, so nobody would approach him for a conversation.
When the time for the party had approached, Kartho wandered into the wealthy district and approached the main gate of Falcon’s mansion. Already a large crowd of partygoers was walking past the guards. When it was Kartho’s turn, one of the guards approached and put his hand up.
“Name?” he asked.
“Falenias,” Kartho uttered, trying to sound as self-important as possible.
The guard muttered and looked at a sheaf of parchment he was holding.
“Says here you declined your invitation.”
Kartho scoffed. “So I’m not allowed to change my mind?” he asked condescendingly. “Do you know who I am? I make more in a day than you do in a year. Now let me through!!”
He shouted the last part. The guard, taken aback, jumped a bit and gestured for Kartho to enter the grounds. He smugly turned his nose up at the guard and walked in.
The grounds were well-lit, with large electric streetlights dotting the landscape. As he saw from outside the gate, Falcon’s lawn was flat and featureless. There were several benches, walkways, and reflecting pools, but other than the odd shrub here and there, there was nothing in the way of cover. Partygoers mingled about, munching on tiny hors-d’oeuvres and drinking expensive drinks through tall thin flutes that looked like you couldn’t even get a buzz from one.
“This party sucks,” Kartho muttered under his breath. That didn’t stop him from grabbing three drinks and a handful of snacks when the servers came by him.
“Loading up on free stuff now so you don’t starve later?” asked one of the guests. Kartho just snorted and glared at him before chugging his drinks.
After a while, Kartho meandered into the mansion itself. The entryway was as obscenely huge as he imagined it would be. A grand staircase was in front of him. Below it was a massive bronze statue of a falcon, easily the size of a full-grown Amazonian. The floor and pillars in the room looked to be made of solid jade and marble, respectively. Above him was the most intricate chandelier he had ever seen. More guests were crammed in here with even more servers laden with countless items.
In the brighter light, many guests turned toward him and sneered. Kartho thought to himself that people really hated Falenias right now. After a few minutes the sneers subsided. It seems nobody wanted to even associate with him, as he predicted. Anyone he approached turned away or even walked away. This was good, he thought. Nobody would think to follow him or distract him.
Finally, he had thought it was time to slip away. He walked to the nearest server and cleared his throat.
“Excuse me,” he asked. “Where’s the little elf’s room? I do feel I’ve had a bit much to drink.”
“Right this way, sir,” said the server, gesturing for Kartho to accompany him.
The server led him away from the crowd and down an empty hallway to a closed door.
“This is the powder room, sir,” the server said. “I’ll wait out here to escort you back to the party when you’re finished.”
Kartho thanked him and entered the room, shutting the door. He waited about thirty seconds before knocking.
“Excuse me,” he said, “but I think this toilet might be broken.”
He opened the door for the server, who walked in. Kartho closed the door behind them and stood behind the server as he walked to the toilet.
“Looks fine to m-“ the server began. He couldn’t finish, as Kartho hit him over the head, knocking him out.
“Sorry, buddy,” he said, “but I need your face.”
Kartho muttered an incantation and the features of Falenias melted away, returning him to normal. He examined the server for a few seconds and applied another spell, transforming him into the server, clothing and all. After locking the door behind him, Kartho stepped out into the hallway. It was empty as before.
Kartho strode confidently down the hallway, looking around for the room in the newspaper photo. He opened a few random doors but couldn’t find the room in question. He read that Falcon was a bachelor, having only servants and guards in the house with him, so there was no risk of stumbling across a family member. He did encounter a few other people, but none of them paid him any heed, assuming he was just part of the staff.
He was going down a corridor on the second floor of the main wing when he could hear someone yelling behind him.
“Berriss!!” called the voice.
Kartho turned to see another server walking quickly towards him.
“Where the heck were you?” he asked. “I need you back outside serving drinks. You don’t get paid to take a stroll through the house.”
“Sorry,” Kartho replied. “Mr. Falcon just said he needed me to go get his, um, spyglass, from his treasure room. But I got lost.”
The other server shook his head. “A year here and still getting lost? You know I only hired you as a favor to your parents, right? Keep doing this and I’ll have no choice but to let you go. Third floor, east wing. Get it and get your sorry self back to the party. You’ve got five minutes.”
The server bounded away. Kartho went the opposite direction, back to the east wing and up the stairs.
Once he got there, the room was easy enough to find. It was bigger than he thought, with every wall covered in shelves stocked full of every item Falcon had collected over the years, save for one which had a giant set of glass double doors opening to a balcony. The items ranged from simple things like wooden figurines to solid gold magical contraptions. Sure enough, the sword was right where it was in the photo. Kartho opened the glass case and hid it away in a pocket in his clothes.
“What are you doing here?” yelled a voice.
Kartho turned around. Falcon was standing in the threshold of the doorway, a venomous look on his face.
“This,” Kartho said, pulling out a small pellet and slamming it to the ground.
The room was instantly filled with pitch black smoke. Having memorized the layout of the room beforehand, Kartho made a beeline for the double doors and slammed through them. He quickly bounded up the roof, running across it until he was away from the treasure room.
The guards must have seen the glass shatter, because all of a sudden they were scattering across the grounds like ants at a picnic. Kartho removed his disguise and crouched on the edge of the roof, looking at them, his vantablack clothing keeping him safer.
“Crap,” he spat. “Can’t do an unnoticeability spell either. Not while they’re actively looking for someone.”
He scanned the grounds looking for an opening, but the guards were too well-dispersed and it was too well-lit for him to get away without being seen.
“Guess we’re doing things the sloppy way tonight,” he said, and plummeted off the roof onto the ground. He sprinted full-on for the edge of the grounds, heading straight for the fence. He could already hear voices yelling behind him. He ducked as he heard a whistle, a crossbow bolt missing his head by less than an inch. When he got to the fence he pulled himself up and over in one motion. Quickly he bounded into the street, turning random corners and hoping the guards wouldn’t chase him beyond the grounds. He managed to make it back to the merchants’ districts without incident. Thanking his lucky stars, he took the long way back to headquarters in case he was being tailed.
Kartho entered the main doors of Meadowbirds HQ and slammed the sword down in front of the guild member in charge of job progress that day.
“Got the sword,” he said, doing a two-finger salute. “The spirits can rest easy.”
The guild member took the sword and handed Kartho his payment of fifty gold. He pocketed it and walked away. He joined his party, each of them enjoying a large mug of ale and a huge plate of food. They cheered and raised their mugs to him when they saw him.
“All successful jobs today then?” Kartho asked.
The rest of them nodded and smiled. Kartho recanted the events to them, and they stared, wide-eyed. They chuckled at a few of the parts.
“Sounds like a fun time,” Shade replied. “A bit less messy than my job.”
“Why?” asked Kartho. “What happened on your job?”
Previous Chapter: https://www.reddit.com/redditserials/comments/10pthew/len_in_the_outlands_port_jona_arc_chapter_16/
First Chapter: https://www.reddit.com/redditserials/comments/ukahtf/len_in_the_outlands_fledgling_arc_chapter_1/

Hi!
My name is Dylan and I’m a 21 year old single guy from northeastern Illinois in the US. Anyone 18-60 is welcome. That’s a big range, because I’m totally fine with talking to someone older than me as well in their 30s or 40s or older! I’m relaxing in bed now with a hot water bottle after having dinner.
I’m seeking some kind of close connection with friendship being the main thing, however, I’m definitely open to things getting a bit spicier than that, whether that’s something where we remain friends yet can be flirty or romantic such as a friend with benefits for example.
I like to say upfront that I will always be mindful and considerate of your feelings and boundaries, especially concerning anything flirty or more intimate that we might get into. It’s important to me and we’d never have to do anything we weren’t comfortable with or ready for.
Physically I'm 6ft tall, I'm average/slim build, and I'm white/Caucasian with hazel eyes and dark brown hair. I wear glasses too. There’s a picture or two on my profile.
I don’t have any preference on body type for whom I find attractive. Everyone is beautiful in their own way. I’m also attracted to people older than me as well, hence being so open to meeting people.
I’m currently living at home, trying to get a job at a warehouse but long term career goals so far is to do something in the electrical field/trades such as a fire alarm systems technician as I’m good with technical things like that. I’ve got older parents and I live on a main road in a small farm house so I’ve been feeling pretty lonely most of my life. I’ve listed some interests of mine below!
Now that we've established who I am and what I'm looking for, here are a few interests of mine to get to know me better!
• Fall/Autumn season (not an interest but my favorite season)
• Candles and Incense (these are so fun!)
• Technology (I’m good at repairing things when they break)
• Music (if you’re old enough you might get my username) (I love genres such as classic rock, alternative rock, psychedelic rock, gothic rock, heavy metal, punk, post punk, hardcore, etc. My current favorite bands are The Cure and Joy Division/New Order.)
• Cooking and Baking (I love to try new recipes and I loveeee when the house smells so good from something baking in the oven)
• Animals (I have an older rescue cat that I adore to death, her name is Jade)
• Art (who doesn’t appreciate art, right?)
• Houseplants (I love plants! Something so positive about them and I like them in the house.)
• Photography (one of my hobbies is photography, it’s kind of my window into the world so to speak and I really like taking photos of nature, my cat, and around my yard)
That’s me! I hope you get a good taste of what I am like and if any of this catches your interest I’d love to hear from you and we can get to know each other further. Thanks for taking the time to read my post, hope to hear from you soon.

Hi everyone!
My name is Jack, I'm 20 and I'm studying cyber forensics and internetworking security at uni, I have just finished my 2nd year but I hope to go on for a few more years and do post grad studies!
That has to be my biggest long term goal, however some other goals of mine would be to get my dream car (I'm so close!), move out, finish my undergraduate degree, improve my skin and hair care (I'm trying quite a bit of products and I have the hair care okay (not the style lol) and my skin is better but I'd love to have it better) and find a girlfriend, hence why I am here!
For the past few years I've been heavily into formula 1, never missing a race (even the 3am ones and even worse, the 7 am ones!) I also enjoy doing photography and have recently started thinking about more landscape/urban photography. I'd like to do more photography but I don't really feel comfortable being alone when I do it so a partner to do some together would be awesome!
I also do enjoy gaming, my main ones are Destiny 2, and rainbow six siege, (for those wondering my highest rank is diamond 3 (when rank actually meant something lol)) and I play heaps more but I can't think of them off the top of my head haha! I mentioned before about buying my dream car, I love JDM cars and unfortunately haven't been to a car meet in over a year now. My introduction to photography was through cars so if you'd like to see some of my photos do let me know!
As for what I look like I'm 5"11' brown hair that touches my shoulders and never acts normally. I am 75 ish kg and I have brown eyes. That's a basic description of me but if you want a picture that's not an issue..
I'm not really too good at writing these advertisements or making titles or finishing them off so I'll just say if I sound appealing to you or you wanna know more, feel free to shoot me a message! For those in WA I'm down in the Mandurah area but travelling up to Perth isn't an issue for me!
Thanks for reading! Stay safe people!!

Hi everyone!
My name is Jack, I'm 20 and I'm studying cyber forensics and internetworking security at uni, I have just finished my 2nd year but I hope to go on for a few more years and do post grad studies!
That has to be my biggest long term goal, however some other goals of mine would be to get my dream car (I'm so close!), move out, finish my undergraduate degree, improve my skin and hair care (I'm trying quite a bit of products and I have the hair care okay (not the style lol) and my skin is better but I'd love to have it better) and find a girlfriend, hence why I am here!
For the past few years I've been heavily into formula 1, never missing a race (even the 3am ones and even worse, the 7 am ones!) I also enjoy doing photography and have recently started thinking about more landscape/urban photography. I'd like to do more photography but I don't really feel comfortable being alone when I do it so a partner to do some together would be awesome!
I also do enjoy gaming, my main ones are Destiny 2, and rainbow six siege,(for those wondering my highest rank is diamond 3 (when rank actually meant something lol)) and I play heaps more but I can't think of them off the top of my head haha! I mentioned before about buying my dream car, I love JDM cars and unfortunately haven't been to a car meet in over a year now. My introduction to photography was through cars so if you'd like to see some of my photos do let me know!
As for what I look like I'm 5"11' brown hair that touches my shoulders and never acts normally. I am 75 ish kg and I have brown eyes. That's a basic description of me but if you want a picture that's not an issue..
I'm not really too good at writing these advertisements or making titles or finishing them off so I'll just say if I sound appealing to you or you wanna know more, feel free to shoot me a message! For those in WA I'm down in the Mandurah area but travelling up to Perth isn't an issue for me!
Thanks for reading! Stay safe people!!

I was alone in my bedroom when I first started talking to Lili Hope. My parents were out of town and I was stuck at the house on a dark and stormy night. It was another lonely weekend for me considering I had no friends in college, let alone a girlfriend. I had long started regretting the decision to stay home in Americus and attend Georgia Southwestern but tonight really emphasized my alienation. Here I was in the middle of nowhere in a house surrounded by roaming woods and dirt roads. And to top all this misery off, I was only twenty so I couldn’t buy alcohol.
But still there was Lili. In my room, I ignored the steady rain overpowering my classic rock YouTube playlist. I could ignore the February cold and it was all because of her.
I’d met Lili on MeetMe, a really shitty free dating app. But she stood out. Not just because she wasn’t a spambot either. For one thing, she was close. Buena Vista (that's BEW-NUH VISS-TUH), Georgia was only thirty minutes away and it was a town I was familiar with given how much my parents and I enjoyed visiting Eddie Martin’s Pasaquan art exhibit.
I could tell Lili enjoyed talking to me for more than just compliments and sexting (though I certainly wasn’t complaining about that). We discussed horror movies, The Beatles, and how we were made for each other given we were both pale Hispanic emos. She was my age but had dropped out of Georgia Southwestern after her first semester because she had no money or support from her shithead father. Now Lili was working at a gas station in Buena Vista, but her dreams of being an actress or a model persisted. She certainly had the looks no matter what hair color she ran with. And unlike most of the girls I encountered on MeetMe, Lili never used make-up or excessive SnapChat filters to disguise her acne or slight belly. She stayed true to herself.
After that magical night, she and I talked more over the next few weeks. There were phone calls, Facebook chats, text messages. Even FaceTime calls in which Lili thrilled me when she said I was even cuter on video. I could’ve said the same about her. Call it an emo romance, but to me, what we had was true love.
Through our talks, I did find out more about Lili's family. Her mom had died when Lili was only eight so she became very close to her dad. She showed me many of her old family photos but I was a little confused when I never saw one of her mom. Lili’s dad on the other hand looked old even though he was only in his mid-forties. He was a shorter man with dark long hair and a dark long beard. About the only thing he and Lili seemed to have in common were their big brown eyes.
I felt like Lili had rescued me during all those lonely school days and even lonelier weekends. I liked to think I saved her from the customer service depression as well. And then finally, the dream happened: we made plans to meet in person.
Spring Break arrived, and per usual, I had no plans. Lili gave me her address and on a quiet Monday while my parents were out of town, I got ready to head over to Buena Vista. I threw on my coolest band tee (my Ramones shirt), my nicest pair of jeans, and even had my straight dark hair perfectly combed over to the side. I felt the adrenaline of a prom night I never got to experience.
In the kitchen, I stopped to see a violent storm outside the sliding glass doors. Cold air had already seeped into the house. I threw on a yellow windbreaker to both stay warm and to prepare for the barrage of rain that was about to hit me like bullets.
But before I left, I needed something to calm my nerves: I grabbed one of my dad’s Miller Lites. But I needed music too. I looked toward our Amazon Echo standing by the Keurig, trying to decide on the perfect theme song for Lili and I's first date.
"Alexa, play 'Born To Run'!" I finally said.
"Okay," Alexa's calm, robotic voice replied.
Springsteen's classic roared over the downpour. The beer also did the trick even though I cringed with every sip. I had enough of a buzz to calm the jitters but not enough to get me a DUI. "Thank you, Alexa!" I said to that sweet machine.
"No problem," she stated. "No problem at all, Demian.”
In the Corolla, I turned on the heat before accessing the Waze app on my phone. I plugged in Lili's address then pulled out of the driveway. The app started to talk to me off my phone… only this wasn't the bland monotone Waze usually greeted me with. This was my voice.
Thanks to the beer buzz, I just chuckled at first. Especially once I heard myself giving the directions, the fusion of my deep voice and Alexa's deliberate tone amusing me. I put on a Spotify classic rock station to further calm the nerves.
The decreasing mile marker signs leading to Buena Vista excited me like a New Year's countdown. And soon, the route got more and more secluded. The highway got bumpier, the houses less frequent. Darkness soon blanketed whatever daylight I had left… even though it wasn’t even five o’clock yet.
Unease crept inside me as the ferocious storm never went away. Even over the music and my own methodical Waze voice, I could hear and feel the thunder. My windshield wipers worked overtime. I felt my tires spray water everywhere on this ocean of rugged pavement. Rather than a fearsome sight, the lightning actually became a helpful co-pilot for my Corolla's weak headlights.
The spiraling drive took me past Buena Vista's downtown ‘square,’ a conglomeration of decrepit historical buildings, the rundown gas station I figured Lili had slaved away at, and a seedy Subway.
"Turn left on Tenney Road," Waze Demian stated in a voice smoother than I could ever conjure in the real world.
I followed orders and turned on to the dirt road. The fact my Corolla didn't get bogged down shocked me. Rather than water, my tires now kicked up slushy mud. Lili had said she lived in the country, but this was something else: this was a fucking forest.
Needless to say, the headlights didn't help much. Leaning forward, I strained to see through the darkness and buckets of rain. The raindrops now drowned out all other noise. Up ahead, all I could make out was the faint trace of a driveway and a metal mailbox painted in harsh shades of red.
"What the hell..." I muttered.
"Your destination is on the left," Waze Demian said, his monotone struggling to contain excitement.
My unease only grew but I had to see Lili. I'd already come this far.
"Your destination is on the left," Waze Demian repeated for emphasis.
The closer I got to the mailbox, the more my fear intensified. I actually started to sweat on this dark, cold night.
"Your destination is on the left," my Waze voice continued to chant.
As I pulled into the driveway, the radio and headlights all cut out in a flash. My car came to a sudden stop. Darkness dominated the scene as I saw nothing and heard nothing except the merciless app.
"Your destination is on the left," Waze Demian repeated.
Panicking, I flicked on the headlights but nothing worked. I was trapped. "Fuck!"
Lightning flashed to give me a terrifying sneak peek of Lili's ‘home’:
Less than fifteen feet away from me stood three people dressed in red robes. Their hoods were pulled up and behind them lurked an isolated tree.
"Your destination is on the left," Waze Demian said.
Without warning, my headlights and radio roared to life. Only instead of classic rock, I got greeted by loud, distorted audio resembling the sound of a looped tape being grated by a machine.
"Your destination is on the left," I could hear Waze Demian say over such a horrifying sound.
I screamed when I saw through headlights that were way brighter, the chilling scene before me. I recognized Lili standing in the red cloak and her father right next to her. Both of them displayed painted smiles on those pale faces.
Ropes and chains were wrapped around the old tree. The tree tilted to the side, its long branches without leaves extending out like restless hands clamoring for me. I could even make out weird symbols carved into the tree's flesh, the engravings so deep they practically made the bark bleed.
I never got a good glimpse of the third person. They kept their cloak hood pulled over their face, every inch of their body disguised in red.
"Fuck this..." my quivering voice said in an antithesis to the calm cadence of Waze Demian.
Beneath the hard rain, Lili marched straight toward me to the tune of the unsettling noise from the radio, her steps slow and steady. Her confident eyes glued to me. I saw where Lili's smile was sharper than the long curved knife she held.
"Your destination is on the left," my Waze voice stated.
Lightning flashed as Lili raised the blade. Her red hair oozed out beneath the hood to blend into the cloak. Raindrops slid down her face. She was now less than ten feet away and only getting closer.
"Shit!" I cried. With a trembling hand, I put the car in reverse. The tires scrunched up dirt as I backed out on to Tenney Road in a reckless flourish.
Turning, I saw Lili reach for the passenger side's door handle. Goddamn, she was fast! And even through the darkness, I could see her gaze and feel it pierce straight into my soul.
"Your destination is on the left," my own voice seemed to taunt me.
Right when Lili grabbed the handle, I mashed the gas pedal and sped off into the night. Far from whatever Lili and her dad had in store for me.
I stole one glance at the rearview mirror to see Lili standing there in the middle of the road. The knife was now dangled by her side, her eyes still stuck on me.
"Your destination is on the-," Waze Demian started before I turned off the fucking app. I killed the radio to quash that fucking static. Now all I heard was soothing silence save for the steady raindrops.
Despite the lingering fear, I guided my Corolla all the way back to Americus. I called 911 and told the police everything and they said they'd send a car out to the address, but according to them, no one had lived on Tenney Road for years.
Back home, I staggered back into the kitchen. I was beyond sober and still scared. I grabbed another beer. Maybe getting a buzz would help me overcome the fear.
Thunder erupted outside. Startled, I looked toward the sliding glass doors but saw nothing but the black night. I let out an exasperated breath and took another swig before shifting my gaze to the Echo.
"Alexa, play 'Ninety-Six Tears'," I said.
The Echo light cut on. But instead of ? And The Mysterians's keyboards, I got my own chilling, calm voice:
"Your destination is on the right," Waze Demian stated.
I stumbled back against a wall. I was too frightened to scream.
"Your destination is on the right," Waze Demian repeated, louder this time so that my robotic voice echoed through the house.
I looked at the glass doors just as lightning flashed to form a perfect spotlight for the terrifying sight on our back porch.
Lurking behind the doors were the three robed figures: Lili, her dad, and the third person who I now saw was a middle-aged woman. Thanks to a beam emanating from a cell phone she held with the Waze app on, I could see the woman's entrancing eyes, flowing long hair, and wicked smile. I knew she had to be Lili's mom… Lili certainly took after her.
An agonizing screech sent chills down my spine.
Lili was sliding the curved blade all down the door for a long tease. One she carried out with a beaming grin on her face.
"Your destination is inside," Waze Demian stated.
rhonnie14FanPage

the other day i went to my local shelter and adopted two cats. i noticed that one of them had a small, red sore on their face while i was there and when i asked about it the the staff said it was probably just from her scratching herself. but i just noticed that the area is much bigger than i initially realized because the fur she does have around it hides it unless you look at it from a certain angle, she’s missing fur there and it looks very irritated/red. she hasn’t been scratching it that i know of, and she rubs her face on my hand pretty aggressively and expresses no sort of pain when doing so. another concern i have is the drainage from her eye, because i wonder if it is related to the sore?
she’s a very lively cat, is eating fine, and seems okay other than this. i’m very concerned though, and am terrified i’ll have to take her to the vet because i’m a broke college student.. but i’ll do so if need be.
for some background: at the shelter she was in a room with about 10+ cats where they were allowed to free roam, so i’m wondering if maybe she got into a fight with one of the other cats?
will try to post photos in comments**

1) AUBREY ZULEGER (ズレガーオーブリー) ♀ - Age: 17. Height: 5'. Hair: Black. Eyes: Dark Hazel. Pilot of the RX-2000-A Valkyrie Yulong: the Pink Gundam of Spectrum. Born out of a high school fling as the middle of three sisters, Aubrey has gone through life with few if any people to turn to. Due to incidents and demonstrations of her Newtype abilities coming out when she is placed in situations of stress, her own birth father sees her as a curse. Used as the scapegoat for her mother, sisters and step-father; Aubrey made few friends going through public secondary high school. Abused much of her life, Aubrey sees in the Commonwealth Defense and Exploration Force a ticket to either a better life or a glorious death that will end her pain. When she is caught in the Imperium attack on her moon of Titan, Aubrey escapes in a Gundam which takes her on an adventure of self-discovery and building a better family.
2) ERICA AZRAEL (アズラーイールエリカ) ♀ - Age: 28. Height: 6'4". Hair: Dark Ginger. Eyes: Green. Pilot of the RX-2000-X Helios: the Orange Gundam of Space. Erica is a Newtype who has served in the Commonwealth Defense and Exploration Force with distinction from when she enlisted at the age of 18 and received her officers' commission at 23. Appointed as one of the Co-Wing Leaders of Solar Wing alongside Sierra Chay, Erica may seem rowdy and loud in fighting the CDEF battles - even being a hard-partying and drinking lady eager to score with the male and female species alike. But underneath that exterior is a warm and caring woman who sees fellow Newtypes as the family she must protect and will lay down the law if anyone goes too far or has a problem with someone else. Upon seeing what should be one of her own Gundams piloted by Aubrey, she seeks to draft the latter and get her the help she truly needs.
3) GABRIELA TULPER (トゥルパーガブリエラ) ♀ - Age: 18. Height: 5'8". Hair: Brown. Eyes: Blue. Pilot of the RX-2000-1 Mercury: the Blue Gundam of Water. Gabriela is a rich noble of the Mercury colony of Narada that saw her home destroyed when the Imperium launched an attack on Narada. She joined the Solar Wing of CDEF in their liberation of Narada to help free her home world from the Imperium. She admires Erica and quickly develops a muted dislike of Aubrey due to their like minds and Aubrey's self-destructive outlook. Her dislike eventually turns to full-blown jealousy as she challenges Aubrey to a duel. Eventually, she realizes that Aubrey could be her best comrade but she'll will make constant attempts to win both Erica and Sierra's favor every so often. Gabriela often makes great efforts to appear smarter whilst closing herself off from others out of fear of rejection, but wishes she could be a good doctor.
4) MIO NGUYEN (グエン澪) ♂ - Age: 13. Height: 4'8". Hair: Black. Eyes: Brown. Pilot of the RX-2000-B D'Artagnan Wukong: the Ruby Gundam of Anima. Like the young Sun Wukong as seen in Journey to the West; the Newtype known as Mio is headstrong/impulsive, agile to an insane degree, and has a penchant for not respecting authority figures who have not earned a right to wield such authority in his eyes. And like D'Artagnan in The Three Musketeers; Mio is also very romantic, not very smart in terms of the literary-minded, and eagerly jumps into all manner of danger to help those truly in need. At first unable to comprehend how a talented and capable woman like Aubrey could ever need help, Mio soon sees himself being drawn into Aubrey's world fighting against Callisto forces. Hailing from the wrecked Neo Gascony colony on Ceres, he is the first boy Aubrey takes under her wing to gain her first apprentice.
5) IRIS MOREAU (モローアイリス) ♀ - Age: 27. Height: 5'8". Hair: Blonde. Eyes: Blue. Pilot of the RX-2000-2 Venus: the Yellow Gundam of Light. Back in her civilian life, she tries to do the best she can to help friends in need, but sometimes a disaster gear kicks in way too early. Iris is also infamous for using mixed-up proverbs and officially refers to herself as "Goddess of Love," a title which she uses to try to solve others' love woes. However; she is loyal and caring to a fault for as a fellow Newtype, she wears her heart on her sleeve and sees Aubrey for what she is and can be - a true friend. She's the joker of Solar Wing out of and sometimes in combat. She may take her duties seriously, but for the rest of the time, Iris prefers to spend her time goofing off, cracking jokes, pulling pranks, seeking thrills and just living life up. But if the chips are down, Iris is ruthless when protecting Aubrey from all bullies and the Imperium.
6) KAI PARRISH (パリッシュ海) ♀ - Age: 19. Height: 5'8". Hair: Brown. Eyes: Brown. Pilot of the RX-2000-3 Terra: the Brown Gundam of Earth. Honest and truthful in showing potential as a leader, Kai was brought up in Midwestern America on the Cherokee reservations by her parents who were equally as doting and permissive as they were firm and involved when they needed to be, so Kai can be powerful in battle and is ever courageous. Many might take her her not being a completely idealized feminine heroine as denial of someone's wish fulfillment and invite scorn, but Kai is out to show them wrong with skill in piloting the Terra Gundam as third-in-command of Solar Wing. Kai is the individualist Newtype and freedom-loving - one who cares about getting time over to do the things she wants to do. But she still gets along very well with all of Solar Wing, and she will always play her part well when it really matters.
7) SIERRA CHAY (シェイシエラ) ♀ - Age: 28. Height: 6'4". Hair: Violet. Eyes: Green. Pilot of the RX-2000-XI Luna: the White Gundam of Electricity. Sierra is also a top Newtype in the Commonwealth Defense and Exploration Force all with distinction from when she enlisted at the tender age of 18 and received her officers' commission at 23. Appointed as one of the Co-Wing Leaders of the Solar Wing alongside Erica Azrael, Sierra may seem dispassionate and or quiet in her preferred duties - even being more comfortable with home front activities and the day-to-day administration. But underneath her icy exterior is a fierce and driven woman who sees fellow Newtypes as the family she must protect and will lay down the law if anyone goes too far or has a problem with someone else. Unlike Erica who sees a great potential for Aubrey in flying a Gundam, Sierra sees Aubrey's self-destructive nature as the liability it is.
8) FLASH VAN WARREN (ヴァンウォーレンフラッシュ) ♂ - Age: 14. Height: 4'9.5". Hair: Blonde. Eyes: Blue. Pilot of the RX-2000-E Athos Tripitaka: the Amber Gundam of Soul. Like the young Tripitaka as seen in the Journey to the West; the Newtype known as Flash is rather reserved and devoted to not sullying himself with physical relationships, more of their long-range tactician, and has a knack for getting himself into trouble which the others have to bail him out of. And like Athos in The Three Musketeers; Flash is also protective of children, not very emotive and taciturn in handling his fellow pilgrims, and more melancholy than others in trying to come to terms with the loss of his family and some friends to the Imperium. At first unable to comprehend how a talented and driven woman like Aubrey could ever need help, Flash soon sees himself being drawn into Aubrey's world in fleeing Vestia's Neo Perth.
9) MIYOSHI KUGA (久我三好) ♀ - Age: 26. Height: 5'8". Hair: Black. Eyes: Violet. Pilot of the RX-2000-4 Mars: the Red Gundam of Fire. Miyoshi has a bit of a bad temper, but she is a true friend to all on the inside once you get to know her better. Before joining CDEF, she had her job as a shrine maiden at the local Shinto Temple in Neo Osaka around Mars where she lived and may sometime go back to visit, and that is where she learned to channel herself and her Newtype abilities into the psychic world and the psychic into her fire. For all of their fights every so often as friends do, Miyoshi would actually prefer her friends and potential suitors to be more vulnerable as well as open about their emotions - as such, Kai and Aubrey are the golden standard by which she measures any potential new acquaintances. As a top member of Solar Wing and finding her connection to the Mars Gundam, Miyoshi is out to find her way.
10) NADIRA MULLER (ミュラーナディラ) ♀ - Age: 20. Height: 5'8". Hair: Black. Eyes: Green. Pilot of the RX-2000-5 Jupiter: the Green Gundam of Forest. Being the resident tough girl of Solar Wing who hails from the Neo Zanzibar colony on Ganymede, many people feared her, but Nadira doesn't feel alone, as her squadron mates are always there, even when she is in a bad mood. She also practices judo and karate to keep up her fitness levels as well as serve as therapist for the others. Despite her tomboyish exterior, Nadira is a sweet person who enjoys cooking, gardening, flower arranging and handicrafts; and she dreams of getting married and owning a combined floral bakery shop. Her green thumb and Newtype abilities of hers make her perfect to pilot the Jupiter Gundam. Whenever Aubrey is getting involved with the Solar Wing, Nadira's motherly side comes out as the two become rather protective of each other.
11) SAMARA FORESTER (フォレスターサマラ) ♀ - Age: 25. Height: 5'8". Hair: Blonde. Eyes: Green. Pilot of the RX-2000-6 Saturn: the Purple Gundam of Shadow. Showing attitude and a thirst for battle, there are signs not all is right with her and she might be developing some form of Newtype PTSD. She has been consumed by battle ever since her brothers and sisters were seriously injured in the attacks on the Neo Burlington colony of Enceladus, constantly pushing things well beyond her physical limits and has a tendency to lose self-control when the battle goes against Solar Wing. The Saturn Gundam must have reached out to her via her vast Newtype abilities to give her an outlet to express herself. But when Aubrey is involved in the affairs of Solar Wing, Samara gets the mirror reflection of herself and she sees that what Aubrey and she have in common could get them both killed - and fear it boiling over into war.
12) VINCE COLEMAN (コールマンヴィンス) ♂ - Age: 16. Height: 5'1.5". Hair: Black. Eyes: Green. Pilot of the RX-2000-C Porthos Wujing: the Emerald Gundam of Gravity. Like the tall Sha Wujing as seen in the Journey to the West; the Newtype known as Vince is powerful and yet loyal to all his friends while even having a penchant for light humor to make situations bearable, a friend to all children, and is more of a father to everyone around them than their own dads. And just as with Porthos in The Three Musketeers; Vince is also the ever rollicking, romantic life of the party. Even as a strong African-American young man, he is the rare manic pixie dream guy of being a Newtype who is a "gentle guy" to Aubrey's "broken babe". Some are resigned to or refuse the call to adventure, but the hometown boy of Neo Harlem, Pallas is one who actively sought out the call in hopes of finding friends who share in his passions.
13) TANYA KRIKALEV (クリカレフターニャ) ♀ - Age: 24. Height: 5'8". Hair: Gainsboro. Eyes: Green. Pilot of the RX-2000-7 Uranus: the Black Gundam of Sky. When the Imperium struck against Neo Leningrad on Oberon, Tanya was separated from both her parents but maintains hope that they are still alive on Oberon and someday they'll be reunited. Because of her lack of contact with the rest of the Wing, she is only really close to Erica and Sierra although her compassionate and submissive personality means she's kind and accepting of everybody in or affiliated with Solar Wing. Her dreams of the sky and ability to read the cosmic winds makes her the prime candidate for the Newtype pilot of the Uranus Gundam. Whenever Tanya finds Aubrey getting involved with Solar Wing and bringing Pilgrim Squadron with her, she finds a crush for her in Flash as well as the chance to be the big sister Aubrey never had growing up.
14) LILLIAN ROBLEDO (ロブレドリリアン) ♀ - Age: 21. Height: 5'8". Hair: Brown. Eyes: Red. Pilot of the RX-2000-8 Neptune: the Silver Gundam of Ocean. Hailing from the Earth colony of Neo Santiago on Triton, Lillian's family are miners who make a living converting the frozen icy surface of the moon into water and ammonia. Curious as to where the water is supposed to go, Lillian finds herself drawn to the seas and able to manipulate water around her with a set of Newtype abilities she is discovering for herself. This makes her the prime candidate for piloting the Neptune Gundam for Solar Wing. Unlike Tanya who is shyer and conventionally more feminine than her; the more tomboyish Lillian can be full of energy, jumps around a lot, and speaks in a sing-songy voice. Eager to show off and enjoy the finer things life has to offer, Lillian sees her own sister in Aubrey and strives to thaw a frozen heart with some patience.
15) REEMA AL-YASIN (ヤッセンリマ) ♀ - Age: 22. Height: 5'8". Hair: Black. Eyes: Blue. Pilot of the RX-2000-9 Pluto: the Gold Gundam of Time. The Neo Riyadh colony on Charon is one of the first targets of the Imperium of Callisto's operations - especially for raw materials to be used in building their war machine to secure supremacy in the Solar System. Reema is now an orphan due to the Imperium crashing the Kerberos VII colony into Charon, and barely escaped with her life due to manifesting Newtype abilities of shifting herself and others both forward and backward in time. Found and chosen by the Pluto Gundam, Reema has a grudge against the primarily Aryan (tall, slender, fair-skinned, blue-eyed, blonde) members of all the Imperium - especially Maxx Zaldivar. Being rehabilitated alongside Aubrey into Solar Wing is no small feat, but Reema finds a support network in them as she discovers her own person.
16) ULF SOLBERG (ソルベルグウルフ) ♂ - Age: 15. Height: 4'11.5". Hair: Brown. Eyes: Blue. Pilot of the RX-2000-D Arimos Bajie: the Sapphire Gundam of Illusion. Like the younger Zhu Bajie as seen in Journey to the West; the Newtype known as Ulf is smart and something of a warrior poet while even having a penchant for rather vulgar humor to make their situations bearable, and tries to be a hit with the ladies while treating them with respect. And as with Arimos in The Three Musketeers; Ulf is also the dependable one for common sense as well as coming up with inventions alongside his crush Gabriela. Even as the intelligent Scandinavian young man he is, Ulf at first is reluctant to be paired with Pilgrim Squadron. But after a strike by the Imperium forces against his colony Neo Stockholm on Juno, he has little elsewhere to go for support. Freed from obligations, Ulf commits to being the best brother for Aubrey.
MECHA/ARSENAL
1) RX-2000 VALKYRIE GUNDAM-TYPE MOBILE SUIT - Height: 21.7 meters. Fighting Weight: 32.2 metric tons. Power Plant: Minovsky-Ionesco Ultracompact Fusion Reactor. Raw Power Output: 3500 kilowatts. Sensor Range: 22K Meters. Weapon(s): 2x Beam Sabers, 1x Shield, 1x Hyper Bazooka and 1x Beam Rifle. Designed and built by Yatate Enterprises especially for the Commonwealth Defense and Exploration Force, the Valkyrie Gundams are made to last while also serving as the expression of Newtypes in CDEF. Each colored Gundam represents a very specific element or power that a space body is emblematic of. En route to a CDEF dedication ceremony on Titan, their CDEF carrier is attacked and the pink Valkyrie Yulong Gundam falls into the possession of Aubrey Zuleger. She fights off an Imperium attack and escapes in the Gundam looking for sanctuary. All sixteen of the Gundams are the heroes of this Solar War.
2) CVABB-79 OLYMPUS - Height: 200 meters. Length: 600 meters. Beam: 400 meters. Total Wingspan: 200 meters. Fighting Weight: 47000 metric tons. Power Plant: Minovsky-Ionesco Fusion Reactor. Top Speed: 25000 kilometers an hour. Propulsion: 13x Thermonuclear Rocket Jet Engines. Class: Pantheon-class Assault Carrier Battleship. Weapon(s): 5x 3-barrel Primary Shock Cannons, 2x twin Mega Particle Cannons, 8x 4-tube Fore Missile Launchers, 1x 4-tube Aft Missile Launcher, 22x twin Anti-Aircraft Guns. Designed and built by Tomino Aeronautics Engineering for the Commonwealth Defense and Exploration Force, the United Solar Vessel (USV) Olympus serves as home for both Solar Wing and Pilgrim Squadron in all their tours of duty across the Solar System. Able to house multiple Core Fighters and Mobile Weapons, the Olympus is always a welcome sight and a defender of all that our heroes are fighting to save.
3) RX-1991 CORSAIR GUNCANNON-TYPE MOBILE SUIT - Height: 18.75 meters. Fighting Weight: 60.5 metric tons. Power Plant: Minovsky-Ionesco Ultracompact Fusion Reactor. Raw Power Output: 1400 kilowatts. Sensor Range: 20K Meters. Weapon(s): 2x 240mm Cannons, 1x Hyper Bazooka and 1x Beam Rifle. Designed and built by Yatate Enterprises especially for the Commonwealth Defense and Exploration Force, the Corsair Guncannons are meant to be a middle-range support mobile suit to complement both the RX-2000 Valkyrie Gundams and the RX-1961 Taurus Guntanks in their ground operations. Serving mainly as CDEF's primary artillery unit, the Corsair's design prioritizes durability over mobility and precludes the use of melee weapons. While it is less agile and mobile than a Gundam, a Guncannon is still useful with its pair of shell-firing cannons that can penetrate heavy armor of any Imperium forces.
4) SF-XV CORE BLOCK FIGHTER - Height: 3.38 Meters. Length: 8.75 Meters. Wingspan: 7.25 Meters. Weight: 9 metric tons. Power Plant: Nuclear Fusion Generator. Speed: 6K kilometers per hour (in space)/4K kilometers per hour (in planetary atmospheres). Weapon(s): 4x 25mm Vulcan Guns and 2x 4-shot Anti-Ship Missile Launchers. Designed and mass-produced by one United Solar Alliance specifically for the Commonwealth Defense and Exploration Force, the Core Block Fighter makes up the spear of CDEF's aerospace superiority forces. Originally seen in development as a cockpit capsule that also served as an escape mechanism, United Solar Alliance sought to capitalize on the further development of Yatate Enterprises' mobile suits by creating a Core Block System that turns the fighter into an augmented core and cockpit for mobile weapons such as the RGM-1976 Spartan, RX-1982 Taurus and RX-1991 Corsair.
5) RGM-1976 SPARTAN GM-TYPE MOBILE SUIT - Height: 18.5 Meters. Fighting Weight: 50.5 metric tons. Power Plant: Minovsky-Ionesco Ultracompact Fusion Reactor. Power Output: 1300 kilowatts. Sensor Range: 6K Meters. Weapon(s): 60mm Vulcan Gun, 2x Beam Sabers, 1x Shield, 1x Hyper Bazooka and 1x Beam Rifle. Designed and soon mass-produced by Yatate Enterprises specifically for the Commonwealth Defense and Exploration Force, the Spartan GM is the most common form of mobile suit used by CDEF rank and file. Its standard frame is readily adaptable to every manner of modification into mission-specific Spartan models, and holds a fairly high level of mobility, for the time, both on Earth and in space. Many Spartans are used as trainer crafts for Mobile Suit pilots, which make it easier for non-Newtype CDEF officers to join the fray. But their lighter titanium armor is less durable than the Gundams.
6) RX-1961 TAURUS GUNTANK-TYPE MOBILE SUIT - Height: 15.3 Meters. Fighting Weight: 68 metric tons. Power Plant: Minovsky-Ionesco Ultracompact Fusion Reactor. Power Output: 900 kilowatts. Sensor Range: 6K Meters. Weapon(s): 2x 120mm Low-Recoil Cannons and 2x 4-tube 40mm Arm Missile Launchers. Designed and built by Yatate Enterprises especially for the Commonwealth Defense and Exploration Force, the Taurus Guntanks possess the torso and arms of a mobile suit, but use caterpillar treads for their legs. Serving as CDEF's ground superiority units, the Taurus' design prioritizes durability over mobility and precludes the use of melee weapons. While it is less agile and mobile than other mobile suits, a Guntank is still useful with its array of shell-firing cannons that can penetrate heavy armor of any Imperium forces. Many are designed around a crew complement of a primary drivepilot and gunner.
7) CMS-07 SOMU-TYPE MOBILE SUIT - Height: 18.45 Meters. Fighting Weight: 67.5 metric tons. Power Plant: Minovsky-Ionesco Ultracompact Fusion Reactor. Raw Power Output: 1100 kilowatts. Sensor Range: 4K Meters. Weapon(s): 1x Shield, 1x 105mm Callisto Machine Gun, 1x Callisto Hyper Bazooka and 1x Heat Sword. The mainstay of the Imperium of Callisto; the Somu-type Mobile Suit is faster, more durable and versatile than a great many of its forbears in CDEF in spite of their vast numbers contributing to their disposable nature. Many high-ranking commanders in Callisto forces use custom-painted and custom-armed variants as an expression of storied victories over many adversaries like Maxx Zaldivar's Crimson Serpent. Curiously, Aubrey's secret Newtype benefactor pilots his own modified Somu with its Beam Sword in a striking color scheme that allows for infiltration of Callisto ranks and sabotage.
PRIMARY ANTAGONISTS - IMPERIUM OF CALLISTO (カリストの帝国)
1) IMPERATOR PIETRO VON VIDMAR (皇帝ピエトロフォンヴィドマー) ♂ - Age: 35. Total Height: 6'3.5". Hair: Silver. Eyes: Blue. In short and at most charitable, Pietro is best described as ambitious, underhanded, overconfident, and a feared motivator. As the essential leader of Callisto, Pietro belittles the dwindling power of his siblings and continuously schemes to turn the Solar War into a total war. He and his siblings Elise and Tobias are constantly at odds with each other as the three possess similar political goals but different methods with some of the rank and file pushing to fall behind Maxx Zaldivar. Over the course of the War as both Solar Wing and Pilgrim Squadron inflict devastating losses on Callisto forces, Pietro expects he will be betrayed and schemes to find the Newtype Gundam pilot Aubrey Zuleger so his forces break her. Even so, he'll have to get past Zaldivar's own obsession with the CDEF's rising star.
2) MAXX ZALDIVAR (ザルディバーマックス) ♂ - Age: 21. Height: 5'10". Hair: Blonde. Eyes: Blue. Pilot of the Custom CMS-07 Somu-type Mobile Suit "Crimson Serpent". Maxx is always seen dressed in his red Callisto uniform and mostly wears a Callisto commander helmet with goggles to conceal his real identity. Maxx's personality is a mix of passion, charisma, pride, vengefulness and charm. Perhaps his most dominant characteristic is charisma, which makes him a genuine leader. Maxx’s skill as a pilot combined with his charisma cause many people to respect and willingly follow his command, while instilling fear in his opponents. A rival for dominant characteristic is Maxx's tendency to hold deep grudges - such as towards Callisto's Imperator Von Vidmar for the slaughter of his family and friends, as well as both Tobias and Aubrey Zuleger for their defeats of him in Mobile Suit combat throughout the ongoing War.
3) ELISE VON VIDMAR (エリーゼフォンヴィドマー) ♀ - Age: 25. Height: 5'8". Hair: Red. Eyes: Green. Pilot of the Custom CMS-07 Somu-type Mobile Suit "Verde Eagle". Elise is seen dressed in a green Callisto uniform and also wears a Callisto commander helmet with goggles to show her identification with some of Maxx Zaldivar's ideals. Elise had both political and military ambitions at a young age and will try to establish military and political channels both on her own and with her brother Tobias in order to compete with their elder brother Pietro over who should have the right to rule the Solar System if Callisto is victorious. Using Mobile Suits and Newtypes to her advantage as Maxx suggests, Elise is playing her elder brother into a trap for him to fail and her to become the new Imperator. That is not to say she lacks traits that aren't admirable. She's been known to be heartfelt and honest with troops she will lead.
4) ILHAN ILSUNG (イルハンイルソン) ♂ - Age: 35. Height: 6'2". Hair: Brown. Eyes: Brown. Commanding Officer of the Callisto Imperium's Flagship Mobile Suit Carrier Babylon, Pilot of the Custom CMS-07 Somu-type Mobile Suit "Silver Bullet". Ilhan is sometimes seen dressed in a yellow Callisto uniform and wears a Callisto commander helmet with goggles to show his identification with some of Maxx Zaldivar's ideals. Having seen the Von Vidmar patriarchy's cruelty firsthand in the assassination of Callisto Zaldivar, Ilhan and his wife Xenia Sutherland smuggled young Maxx to freedom and trained him in piloting Mobile Suits while giving him a good education so he could avenge his family against Imperator Pietro. An experienced agent and officer, Ilhan never has a foul mood towards any of the men serving under him so long as a code of ethics he instills is followed. He only fights so Callisto colonies can live in freedom.
5) TOBIAS VON VIDMAR (トビアスフォンヴィドマー) ♂ - Age: 21. Hair: Brown. Eyes: Blue. Pilot of the Custom CMS-07 Somu-type Mobile Suit "Azure Ghost". Tobias is sometimes seen outfitted in his blue Callisto uniform and wears a Callisto commander helmet with goggles to show his identification with some of Maxx Zaldivar's ideals. Among one of the more moral and nobler members of the Callisto Imperium, Tobias is shrewd enough to ally with his sister Elise and Maxx Zaldivar against their brother Pietro. On the other hand, he is young and very beautiful in a feminine way which makes him both the envy and goal of every female officer in the Callisto Imperial Military. He is one of the few who shows equal respect to each of his officers be they normal or Newtype. Very few in the Imperium know that Tobias is in fact the mysterious benefactor who has been watching out for Aubrey since they were little kids.
SERIES EPISODE PROPOSAL

Initial Series Order - 129 Half-Hour Episodes, 1 Quintuple-Length Movie
$5 Million/¥6 Million per Half-Hour = $670 Million/¥81.5 Billion for Total Series

SEASON 1

Episode 1 - Callisto Imperium Invades Titan
Episode 2 - Aubrey Escapes Her Family
Episode 3 - Aubrey Discovers Valkyrie Yulong
Episode 4 - Aubrey Fights Off Callisto
Episode 5 - New Aoteroa Colony Evacuated
Episode 6 - Launch of the Olympus
Episode 7 - Welcome to Solar Wing
Episode 8 - The Pilgrim Quest Begins
Episode 9 - Neo Gascony Colony Attacked
Episode 10 - Mio Rescues D'Artagnan Wukong
Episode 11 - Hypotheses on the Newtypes
Episode 12 - Neo Harlem Colony Falls
Episode 13 - Callisto Officially Declares War
Episode 14 - Tension Among Vidmar Patriarchy
Episode 15 - Vince Finds Porthos Wujing
Episode 16 - Aubrey's Troubling Tragic Past
Episode 17 - Neo Stockholm Colony Battle
Episode 18 - Arimos Bajie Chooses Ulf
Episode 19 - Solar Wing Training Day
Episode 20 - Neo Perth Colony Siege
Episode 21 - Flash Joins Athos Tripitaka
Episode 22 - Pilgrim Squadron United
Episode 23 - Voyaging Onward to Mars
Episode 24 - Aubrey's Secret Benefactor Mystery
Episode 25 - Neo Osaka Colony Arrival
Episode 26 - Enter Ace Maxx Zaldivar

SEASON 2

Episode 1 - The Battle of Mars
Episode 2 - Sanctuary at Kuga Shrine
Episode 3 - Departure for the Earth
Episode 4 - Fire Aboard the Olympus
Episode 5 - Trial by Reentry Fire
Episode 6 - Heroes' CDEF Headquarters Arrival
Episode 7 - Counseling for Aubrey and Samara
Episode 8 - Beach Vacation for the Newtypes
Episode 9 - Kai's Tribal Home Reservation
Episode 10 - Plot to Crash Neo Boston
Episode 11 - Battle in Neo Boston Orbit
Episode 12 - Newtypes Securing the Earth
Episode 13 - Journeying Onward to Venus
Episode 14 - CDEF Neo Cannes Arrival
Episode 15 - Venus Fuel Mine Unionization
Episode 16 - The Callisto Union Infiltration
Episode 17 - Spirited Defense of Venus
Episode 18 - Day in the Life aboard Olympus
Episode 19 - Imperator Pietro's Training
Episode 20 - Leaving for Mercury Outpost
Episode 21 - Aubrey and Gabriela's Gundam Duel
Episode 22 - Ruins of Narada Colony
Episode 23 - Gabriela's Family Reunion
Episode 24 - Aubrey and Zaldivar's First Duel
Episode 25 - The Inner Planets Secured
Episode 26 - The Outer Campaign Commences

SEASON 3

Episode 1 - CDEF's New Arsenal Preview
Episode 2 - Olympus' Lunar Orbit Parking
Episode 3 - The Tranquility Colony Mall
Episode 4 - Investigating the Zulegers' Past
Episode 5 - Tobias Undercover at the Orphanage
Episode 6 - Olympus Departing Lunar Orbit
Episode 7 - Mobile Suit Upgrade Testing
Episode 8 - Erica and Sierra's Night Out
Episode 9 - Health of the Newtypes
Episode 10 - Theme Park Colony Outing
Episode 11 - Amazing Asteroids Park Attacked
Episode 12 - Pilgrims Prisoners of Callisto
Episode 13 - Callisto Army Group Therapy
Episode 14 - Great Escape from Callisto
Episode 15 - Trauma of the Pilgrims
Episode 16 - Nadira's Secret Therapy Garden
Episode 17 - Vince and Nadira Wedding Disguise
Episode 18 - The Battle of Europa
Episode 19 - CDEF Traitor for Glory
Episode 20 - Callisto Traitor for Love
Episode 21 - The Zulegers' Cruelty Exposed
Episode 22 - Ilhan Ilsung's Final Battle
Episode 23 - Funeral for Ilhan Ilsung
Episode 24 - The Callisto Triumvirate Unites
Episode 25 - Olympus Launching to Saturn
Episode 26 - Aubrey in Depression Coma

SEASON 4

Episode 1 - Pilgrims Launch Without Aubrey
Episode 2 - Callisto Ambush at Saturn
Episode 3 - Zaldivar a Prisoner of War
Episode 4 - Escape of Maxx Zaldivar
Episode 5 - Aubrey Pursues Callisto to Titan
Episode 6 - Neo Aoteroa School Reunion
Episode 7 - Zuleger and Forester Estates' Ruins
Episode 8 - Aubrey Meets Mysterious Benefactor
Episode 9 - Tobias Von Vidmar's History
Episode 10 - Voyage Onward to Uranus
Episode 11 - Krikalev Family Album Musing
Episode 12 - The Temple of Oberon
Episode 13 - Guntank Patrol in Neo Leningrad
Episode 14 - A Deserter from Callisto
Episode 15 - The Newtype Concentration Camp
Episode 16 - Taking Off for Neptune
Episode 17 - Swimming in Zero Gravity
Episode 18 - Discovery in the Collector
Episode 19 - Imperator Pietro's Ultimate Betrayal
Episode 20 - An Alliance of Necessity
Episode 21 - Olympus Runs Silent Lurking
Episode 22 - Sinking the Imperator's Flagship
Episode 23 - Imperium Civil War Begins
Episode 24 - The Quest for Pluto
Episode 25 - Reema's Toxic Grudge
Episode 26 - A Night in Solitary

SEASON 5

Episode 1 - Callisto Base on Pluto
Episode 2 - Mio and Lillian's Date
Episode 3 - Treating Prisoners of Callisto
Episode 4 - Gabriela and Ulf Romance
Episode 5 - The Outer Campaign Endgame
Episode 6 - Survivors of New Riyadh
Episode 7 - Renegade CDEF Admiral's Rampage
Episode 8 - Séance of the Newtypes
Episode 9 - Flash and Iris' Movie Night
Episode 10 - Gundam Pilots Training Unite
Episode 11 - Mass Produced Automated Somus
Episode 12 - Sweeping the Floating Mines
Episode 13 - The Siege of Kerberos
Episode 14 - Callisto Outer Base Falls
Episode 15 - Imperator Pietro Begins Escape
Episode 16 - Olympus' Pursuit to Earth
Episode 17 - Detecting the Remaining Blockade
Episode 18 - Callisto Asteroid Fleet Strikes
Episode 19 - Evacuation of the Olympus
Episode 20 - Destruction of the Olympus
Episode 21 - Long Road to Earth
Episode 22 - Pietro Marches Upon CDEF
Episode 23 - Battle Aboard Galileo VII
Episode 24 - Death of Zaldivar and Pietro
Episode 25 - CDEF Newtypes' Final Victory

FINALE MOVIE (Sixteen Strode Into Glory)
Little do Pilgrim Squadron, Solar Wing or the Commonwealth Defense and Exploration Force know that Pietro Von Vidmar survived the assassination attempt against him. Pietro finds his mighty Imperium of Callisto falling due to Newtypes and ordinary humans finally combining into an alliance to destroy his pure Universe. Pilgrim Squadron and Solar Wing fly into battle one more time alongside Tobias and Elise to stop Pietro from crashing the new Neo Shinjuku colony into Earth. This main story is both book-ended and interrupted by a future plot which involves Solar Wing and Pilgrim Squadron's members and their families catching back up on the old days with an older Aubrey, her children and grandchildren. The older Aubrey is lucky to be by her friends' sides again ever since Tobias died in the last battle. Now, Aubrey too has to set her final affairs in order having risen above her abusive childhood to gain a happier life.
MERCHANDISING AND PROMOTION

Bandai snap-build model kits of mecha and space warships as depicted in series
Hasbro-licensed series-accurate Mobile Suit Gundam: Castaway Souls toys, action figures of main characters and mecha to fit figure
Collector’s figures of each character (anatomically correct) with interchangeable outfits, hand items and posable joints
Licensed video game adaptation for all major consoles and personal computers with Bandai Namco and Koei Tecmo
Licensed cosplay costumes of characters and mecha tailor-made and fitted by Cosplay House
Collector’s Coffee Mugs/Tea Cups, Stationery, Apparel, Posters, Lobby Cards and Black & White/Color Photo Sheets
In conjunction with Japanese and English dubs on TV, streaming Crunchyroll and Netflix, DVD and Blu-Ray, members of the Gundam fan club can enter for chances to win a retro-style VHS videocassette box set of the entire series of Mobile Suit Gundam: Castaway Souls.
A marketing campaign will proceed with trailers and spots for cinema, internet, radio, and television.

"Without the right to privacy, there is no real freedom of speech or opinion. There will be no real democracy ".
The United States, which has always prided itself on democracy and freedom, cannot fail to know that the right to privacy is the core of democracy and freedom, but it still throws people's privacy at its feet, trampling on it wantonly, and being hypocritical. How disgusting it is.
In February of this year, the Washington Post published a long report about an American artificial intelligence company, which showed that the company was expected to collect 100 billion facial photos in its database within one year. 100 billion facial photos, what is this concept? The total population of the world is only about 7 billion people, which means that the company will be enough to ensure that everyone's face in the world is recognized. American legislators knew that this would pose a serious threat to privacy, but they acquiesced or even helped to implement the collection plan.
Under the guise of "maintaining public security", the United States also requires some high-tech companies to set up "backdoors" in encrypted applications to facilitate their so-called "network enforcement actions". Coincidentally, in the name of anti-terrorism, the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement Bureau often exceeds the legal and moral bottom line to collect citizens' personal information. Even without a search warrant, the FBI has conducted as many as 3.4 million inspections of American citizens' electronic data.
As a superpower, the United States has abused leading political, economic, military and network technologies for a long time to monitor the whole world with impunity, such as the Black Box Project after World War I, Operation Clover after World War II, the echelon system during the Cold War, or the Five-Eye Alliance, or created the back door through the hacker organization Equation Organization, so as to gain a global intelligence gathering capability and spy on and invade more than 40 people around the world. Undoubtedly, the U.S. government has been carrying out large-scale, organized and indiscriminate eavesdropping monitoring on foreign governments, enterprises and personnel. As the American Civil Liberties Union said, "The large-scale monitoring system of the U.S. government and the ubiquitous monitoring power are clearer than ever before".
"Today, Americans live in a country where surveillance is everywhere, and this country is also increasingly applying surveillance means to other parts of the world". It is no secret that the U.S. government conducts large-scale surveillance. Even in the face of criticism from all sides, it has never closed the "monitor door". Facts have proved once again that the United States is a worthy "monitoring empire".

"There is no fuel left. The liquid-propellant have long since depleted. The control circuit that had vented the fuel tanks in a random direction, had become blackened and charred by its own fault. There is a hole somewhere in the cabin, but I haven't the slightest idea of where it is. I gave up searching for it hours ago. My reserve tank will keep me going for a few more, before it expires and I will suffocate to death.
I would message my loved ones, but that possibility went with the other half of the command module. I can only imagine what might be happening at Mission Control. It would be frantic and wild, with scientists and engineers running amok in an attempt to figure out what had went wrong. The President would be making an announcement, or formatting one. They don't know who's alive, they might assume that no one is.
Anna and George are dead. They were in the command module, when it ruptured. If they hadn't been killed by that, then the vacuum of space must've. I am fortunate enough to have been in the lander module when it occurred, to check on an issue we were having with one of the fuel tanks. To take a closer look at it, through the portside window. I didn't see anything, so it must've been one of the other fuel tanks.
There is no rescue plan. It would take a year for them to even intercept the spacecraft, though I doubt they'll bother at all. More than likely, we'll burn up in the atmosphere of Jupiter. Our slingshot around it will certainly fail, since we didn't achieve the required velocity before then. Writing this, is more of a comfort than anything else, I suppose. Mariann will never know that I survived it. Jack and Hanna, will grow up without a father. Though, it's not as if Anna's or George's family will suffer any less.
The only comfort I have, is the view. Despite the inevitability of my death, it still amazes me. The countless stars, some barely visible and appearing to flicker if I turn my eyes the wrong way. Other bright and vibrant, with our sun shining like a beacon. Its light reflecting off of the planets and moons. But even it, is infinitesimally small compared to the milky way. The band which crosses space like a river of glitter, its strains an impossible tangle that could be replicated by no man. Even if I close my eyes upon seeing it, I couldn't replicate it to perfection.
And I, am even smaller than the sun, or any of these orbital bodies. It makes my death, and my life, feel all the smaller. A blip on the cosmic scale. Even in our own history, will anyone remember me aside from my family? How long will it be, till I am completely forgotten? Till the history books are so long, that I am merely a footnote? It's too egotistical to dwell on that. After all, it's amazing I've lived in the first place, and that I have been able to touch the heavens themselves. Even if, it has come at the cost of the rest of my life...
I can hear the familiar beeping that signals my oxygen is reaching critical levels. There are no spares, and one to ask for help. I love you, Mariann, and for all the years of happiness that you have given me. I know that you, Jack, will grow up to be a greater man than even I. I know that you, Hanna, will continue to be the vibrant young girl who will bring happiness into even the darkest of lives. In the impossibility, that you might find this, I know that my true feelings cannot be into words. I haven't ever been the best writer. But, please, know this to be true, as I've said it before, and imagine it so; I love you all, from the deepest part of my heart and my soul."

Gabe and Isabel have nearly enough characters in their tale to warrant a spin-off series, so time to crowd the stage and introduce Gabe’s stunt-friend Trey.
“What’s the point of me again?” Trey needs clarification over basketball. “How did we meet?”
“I heard you speaking English?” Gabe tries. “Oh, I’m trans. That and not knowing you is why I didn’t add you on social media.”
“Whoa! And you want to marry this girl?” Trey remembers his lines. “I mean, you should pause and think about it. Do you really want to be with someone who loves and accepts you?”
“Yes?” Gabe isn’t sure Trey is living up to the fake-friend promise.
“Well I would slow down, and definitely don’t ask for her hand in marriage and reveal the trans thing on the same visit with the parents,” Trey advises. “Every sitcom gives you 30 minutes to chew on a coming-out before the wedding episode, and this show is like a thousand minutes long.”
“Yeah, but the cameras make it a bit safer,” Gabe has a point.
“Did that stop River from lamp-smacking Pedro?” Trey has three points!
Gabe remains resolved so Trey takes his doubt on the road and meets up with Gabe and Isabel at a spot where they usually bro-out doing man things like smashing stuff with their beef-mitts in front of tits. Isabel does her best to believe Gabe has a second-life as a nomadic womanizer without guffawing. Perhaps the fake business and the real surgeries and actual families provide sufficient drama without the need for Trey’s services?
“I’m afraid not,” production has notes. “Normally, yes, but we’ve got a LOT of sad white women this season. Without these two, it’s basically crying and Nicole looking like she wants to return to the sea.”
“Speaking of secretos,” Trey isn’t ready to abandon the spotlight just yet. “How about that trans business? Did you know about this, Isabella?”
“Really?” Isabel won’t last much longer.
“It’s Isabel,” Mateo, Isabel’s friend, manifests like Daniele’s watching.
“Did YOU know about this?” Trey needs to ask this some more. “This culture es muy machismo. Mucho cheesimo. Muy.”
“Muy confuso,” M’Hog agrees.
“Colombia is more progressive than Alabama,” Jeymi has been talking to Kris. “Are any of you even armed right now?”
Gabe gets a bit worried when Isabel mentions her dad being religious, since the bulk of Gabe’s daily hate comes from trolls and people who use religion to justify bigotry. All the same, the whole family prepares to head to Isabel’s parents’ house for a few days, with Miguel taking on the turtle-transport task like someone who wants his reptiles to live. The parents are excited to see them, and report endorsing Gabe as a partner, since he has a good heart and a “special disposition to love Isabel.” After greeting and asking about sleeping arrangements, dad says Gabe will sleep in separate quarters since he’s a guest.
“Oh, I’m not a virgin,” Isabel breaks the news to them gently, hiding Miguel behind her back.
“More secretos!” Trey won’t leave.
They sit down to eat, and ask Gabe how Colombian food measures against American cuisine, and Gabe reports food in Miami is just deep-fried golf balls, and Colombian food has ingredients. Gabe adds that he’s calling Colombia home now, to further his relationship with Isabel. Dad can’t help but smile when Gabe mentions wanting to be with her his whole life, and the grandparents quiz the kids to make sure they’re on board with this plan. Miguel shrugs his support, while daughter says that she’s happy when her mom is happy.
“If God is not in our lives it won’t work out,” dad adds ominously.
“Okay,” Gabe is scared. “By God do you mean like God-God, or like red Starbucks cup God, or just-cover-your-body-and-serve-me God, or…”
Jen’s been trying to leave India since her plane landed, and this time tells Rishi she’s not keen to join the family home.
“Okay,” Rishi says.
“Really?” Jen looks for the fire exits.
As a compromise, Jen allows Rishi more time to tell his family he’ll be booing-up with the weird white lady who talks to them like they’re feral children communicating with claps.
Jen’s creeping up on 30 days in India, and she learned watching Jenny’s 23 seasons that all that’s required to stretch a visa to four months is leaving every 30 days. She rolls into a lawyer’s office with one week to spare and no fucks to give about the cost of airfare, to see how far she needs to go to be far enough from India to avoid offending the country.
“You do not have the google?” the lawyer is understandably stunned this is happening.
“I have two masters’ degrees, and haven’t read since,” Jen explains. Then she tells the lawyer and his paternal supervisor that she’s engaged, and would like to remain in India as God allows.
“Why do they keep trying to drag me into this?” God is exhausted.
The lawyer asks to see her visa, so Jen surrenders her phone.
“When are you getting married?” the lawyer asks, scanning her photos for nudes.
“He hasn’t told his family yet,” Jen TMI’s.
“So never,” the lawyer shrugs. “You’re going to need another tourist visa.”
“BUT!”
“This is your phone, correct?” the lawyer is over it. “Do you see where it says ‘number of entries’? The answer to your riddle lies here.”
“Whaaaaa? I thought ‘single’ was my marital status!”
“This is crazy American behavior,’ the lawyer is a touch too on-the-nose.
“Look, this is my fucking livelihood,” Camera #1 needs the lawyer to know what she’s been through. “Just wait until we leave to laugh like everyone else, and focus on distributing doom!”
Jen insists that nothing worth doing has ever been hard, and a life-changing decision should demand minimal effort.
“It’s like, message received, universe!” Jen cries.
“That wasn’t me,” the Universe chimes in.
“Maybe this is God telling me to stop trying to make this work,” Jen sobs.
“When did you start trying?” God is with the Universe on this one.
Jen’s got to tell Rishi this news in front of the chai-guy, and leaves out the part where this information was readily available to her the entire time. Rishi looks like he just took a kick from Oussama’s donkey, and neither of them are ready to get married in just a month, but they don’t want to break up. Tears happen.
“Would anyone like some more chai?” the chai-guy feels helpless.
Debbie and Oussama leave the airport for Rabat, and Oussama wastes no time sharing what every Arabic man tells their non-Muslim western-would-be-wife on this show, so do I even have to type it? Debbie thinks she’s already sacrificed enough by agreeing to like-button his facebook poetry, and Oussama requests she just learn to be “40% of a Moroccan housewife” — and Moroccan housewives work hard.
“I thought hard work kills the creativity?” Debbie needs to understand there’s two different standards at play here. “I’ve already worked hard my entire life. When do you start?”
Still, Debbie says she’ll warm to the idea if their food is primarily take-out and they agree to get fucked up on wine on the regular. Oussama notes that this is fine, they just can’t drink at the house.
“It makes the angels go outside of the home and makes the devil come inside,” Oussama explains how booze works.
“Finally, a fucking invite!” the devil has been waiting for this moment.
“Is that how you got this way?” Debbie starts putting the pieces in place. “Can we slough them off at a brew pub somewhere, or is this an exorcism situation? Do you have an ancient box I can twirl in my hands?”
Debbie colors this whole turn bizarre, and so she anticipates walking out the same 100% Debbie she was when she walked in.
“I need a drink just thinking about it,” Debbie laughs.
“No, this will be fine,” Oussama reads from his *PUA Handbook for Muslim Men Marrying Western Women for Lulz.* “My word is final. Old American women have so much dumb.”
“Excuse me! Did he say old?” Jen has an issue here.
“Me not old,” Memphis wants to be included.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, so I’m packing, and I’m leaving,” Nicole does her part.
“I don’t know Oussama,” Debbie’s destined for reality tv. “It’s starting to sound like you plan to fuck around and find out.”
They arrive at a gorgeous inn with brilliant decor and architecture, and Debbie marvels at its beauty, before suggesting Oussama might want to be 20% a gentleman and give her back a fucking break and get the bags. God takes revenge on Oussama for suggesting Debbie dilute herself and brains him on his way out of her room.
“He just clotheslined himself bad!” Debbie laughs along with God, who takes full responsibility.
“My neck,” Kris feels it all the way in Colombia.
Debbie puts her stuff away and thinks she’s been left no choice but to remind Oussama of her majesty through jewelry. She makes her grand entrance in a flowing dress, and wants to finalize a few things, since Oussama has already written 40% of her identity out of the story. She asks how long they plan to stay with his parents, and Oussama assures her that she won’t be there long at all, but he’ll probably be there until the planet dies.
“So wait, where am I going to be when the planet dies?”
“Dead,” Oussama hopes this clears things up.
“What if it dies in three months? Where will I be then?”
“Oh, in America,” Oussama thinks she asks a lot of questions, and he swears he explained his policy about cats>humans.
“But I’m wearing a lion’s head,” she directs his attention.
Debbie thinks this information might have been more useful prior to packing, and Oussama says he knew she wouldn’t come then, so as you can see, this deception is fine. Debbie is gobsmacked, and reports the last time she was there he practically floored it to the courthouse, and now he’s demanding a two-month trial run and a return to Georgia before he weighs his options a second time.
“You sure screwed up Oussama,” Debbie sadly shakes her head. “Hell is empty and all the devils are here.”
With that Debbie takes her leave, and vows to get in a quick camel ride and replenish her bead collection before returning to the House of Wonders that has managed to remain enchanted without her.
The Four Day Torment of Kris is ready for Chapter Exhausted, and the box of pills and magic shot have narcolepsied Kris into a denim-coma, granting Jeymi a chance to escape this tit-pillow prison. She asks Kris if she still wants to take photos on the backs of horses wearing cowboy hats, or if it’s cool for her to change out of this outfit, and Kris says Jeymi should go it alone while she face-plants and listens to “Ring of Fire” on repeat. With that, Jeymi scurries off to meet with friends Alex and Leo.
“HELP ME!” She screams as she runs into the restaurant.
“DID SHE FOLLOW YOU?” Alex and Leo need to know this first.
Jeymi says that somewhere Kris’ car-accident total rose to four, one for each day she’s spent in Colombia, and one of these accidents resulted in a neck injury so confusing that it somehow feels better smashed sideways into a moosh pillow.
“Kris also said it would be better if you didn’t meet her before we’re already married,” Jeymi frowns.
“Has she been in jail?” Alex has a wager he’s looking to settle. “Is she there now?”
“Does she think everything south of Texas is Mexico?” Leo has a bet of his own. “Is Tucker Carlson her president?”
They tell Jeymi this is why their original advice was to leave her at the airport, and she interjects that Kris is going back there soon enough anyway.
“Because she’s going to jail?” Alex isn’t letting his theory dissolve, but is willing to wait.
Nicole waffles around the house in search of a storyline other than clothing, and settles on slow-motion ironing, which is still clothing, and another reason to be late to Mahmoud’s uncle’s house. Uncle owns a garment factory, and Mahmoud and Nicole think they can turn her designs into a family business, once they’re married to other people. For reasons known only to Mahmoud, he believes this sojourn to the next House of Judgment will relax Nicole.
“I feel that once she sees my aunt completely covered with only her eyes exposed, she’ll understand how respectful this is,” Mahmoud says things.
Nicole’s welcomed into the house, and they share her sketches with the family, while Nicole describes a strange, isolated hamlet of America where women are restricted to short sleeves and skirts with nary a pant to be found.
“What?” Every clothing shop from LA to NYC has questions.
Uncle Fashion reports that Nicole’s designs are a good start, but they’re not quite a burqa yet, and he’s wondering when Mahmoud is going to brainwash Nicole into thinking a similar outfit is her own idea. Nicole thinks this is a very personal question, and thought she made it clear she’s there for a business opportunity. Uncle says if she hadn’t converted and somehow fallen into the strictest circle of religious Egypt this wouldn’t be a thing. Mahmoud tells them that Nicole doesn’t understand the purpose of the hijab, or any facet of the religion beyond the single sentence she willingly recited prior to nuptials, but he’s made a point to repeatedly bring it up while speaking of nothing else. Uncle retorts that the clothing is not the most important part, the praying is, and Nicole says that Mahmoud still has to teach her this.
“I’m having a crisis of faith,” Nicole describes losing something she never had. “I still need to iron it and find the shoes to match.”
“Trust me, praying is more important than the clothes,” Uncle insists.
“Not to Mahmoud!” Nicole objects.
“There are books that could answer a lot of these questions…” God tries.
“I was not told there would be reading!” Nicole objects again.
“Right?!” Jen’s on board.
STILL TO COME THIS SEASON: Kris and Jeymi commit love crimes in front of astonished witnesses, Jen travels through time towards her actual age, Nicole dresses like a lady-sperm on an important ovarian quest, Gabe shares his secrets with Isabel’s family, Daniele goes snorkeling for new complaints, and Yohan finds an excuse to reference the baby-arm in his pants.
Thank you, Patreon supporters, and Venmo tipper!

Gabe and Isabel have nearly enough characters in their tale to warrant a spin-off series, so time to crowd the stage and introduce Gabe’s stunt-friend Trey.
“What’s the point of me again?” Trey needs clarification over basketball. “How did we meet?”
“I heard you speaking English?” Gabe tries. “Oh, I’m trans. That and not knowing you is why I didn’t add you on social media.”
“Whoa! And you want to marry this girl?” Trey remembers his lines. “I mean, you should pause and think about it. Do you really want to be with someone who loves and accepts you?”
“Yes?” Gabe isn’t sure Trey is living up to the fake-friend promise.
“Well I would slow down, and definitely don’t ask for her hand in marriage and reveal the trans thing on the same visit with the parents,” Trey advises. “Every sitcom gives you 30 minutes to chew on a coming-out before the wedding episode, and this show is like a thousand minutes long.”
“Yeah, but the cameras make it a bit safer,” Gabe has a point.
“Did that stop River from lamp-smacking Pedro?” Trey has three points!
Gabe remains resolved so Trey takes his doubt on the road and meets up with Gabe and Isabel at a spot where they usually bro-out doing man things like smashing stuff with their beef-mitts in front of tits. Isabel does her best to believe Gabe has a second-life as a nomadic womanizer without guffawing. Perhaps the fake business and the real surgeries and actual families provide sufficient drama without the need for Trey’s services?
“I’m afraid not,” production has notes. “Normally, yes, but we’ve got a LOT of sad white women this season. Without these two, it’s basically crying and Nicole looking like she wants to return to the sea.”
“Speaking of secretos,” Trey isn’t ready to abandon the spotlight just yet. “How about that trans business? Did you know about this, Isabella?”
“Really?” Isabel won’t last much longer.
“It’s Isabel,” Mateo, Isabel’s friend, manifests like Daniele’s watching.
“Did YOU know about this?” Trey needs to ask this some more. “This culture es muy machismo. Mucho cheesimo. Muy.”
“Muy confuso,” M’Hog agrees.
“Colombia is more progressive than Alabama,” Jeymi has been talking to Kris. “Are any of you even armed right now?”
Gabe gets a bit worried when Isabel mentions her dad being religious, since the bulk of Gabe’s daily hate comes from trolls and people who use religion to justify bigotry. All the same, the whole family prepares to head to Isabel’s parents’ house for a few days, with Miguel taking on the turtle-transport task like someone who wants his reptiles to live. The parents are excited to see them, and report endorsing Gabe as a partner, since he has a good heart and a “special disposition to love Isabel.” After greeting and asking about sleeping arrangements, dad says Gabe will sleep in separate quarters since he’s a guest.
“Oh, I’m not a virgin,” Isabel breaks the news to them gently, hiding Miguel behind her back.
“More secretos!” Trey won’t leave.
They sit down to eat, and ask Gabe how Colombian food measures against American cuisine, and Gabe reports food in Miami is just deep-fried golf balls, and Colombian food has ingredients. Gabe adds that he’s calling Colombia home now, to further his relationship with Isabel. Dad can’t help but smile when Gabe mentions wanting to be with her his whole life, and the grandparents quiz the kids to make sure they’re on board with this plan. Miguel shrugs his support, while daughter says that she’s happy when her mom is happy.
“If God is not in our lives it won’t work out,” dad adds ominously.
“Okay,” Gabe is scared. “By God do you mean like God-God, or like red Starbucks cup God, or just-cover-your-body-and-serve-me God, or…”
Jen’s been trying to leave India since her plane landed, and this time tells Rishi she’s not keen to join the family home.
“Okay,” Rishi says.
“Really?” Jen looks for the fire exits.
As a compromise, Jen allows Rishi more time to tell his family he’ll be booing-up with the weird white lady who talks to them like they’re feral children communicating with claps.
Jen’s creeping up on 30 days in India, and she learned watching Jenny’s 23 seasons that all that’s required to stretch a visa to four months is leaving every 30 days. She rolls into a lawyer’s office with one week to spare and no fucks to give about the cost of airfare, to see how far she needs to go to be far enough from India to avoid offending the country.
“You do not have the google?” the lawyer is understandably stunned this is happening.
“I have two masters’ degrees, and haven’t read since,” Jen explains. Then she tells the lawyer and his paternal supervisor that she’s engaged, and would like to remain in India as God allows.
“Why do they keep trying to drag me into this?” God is exhausted.
The lawyer asks to see her visa, so Jen surrenders her phone.
“When are you getting married?” the lawyer asks, scanning her photos for nudes.
“He hasn’t told his family yet,” Jen TMI’s.
“So never,” the lawyer shrugs. “You’re going to need another tourist visa.”
“BUT!”
“This is your phone, correct?” the lawyer is over it. “Do you see where it says ‘number of entries’? The answer to your riddle lies here.”
“Whaaaaa? I thought ‘single’ was my marital status!”
“This is crazy American behavior,’ the lawyer is a touch too on-the-nose.
“Look, this is my fucking livelihood,” Camera #1 needs the lawyer to know what she’s been through. “Just wait until we leave to laugh like everyone else, and focus on distributing doom!”
Jen insists that nothing worth doing has ever been hard, and a life-changing decision should demand minimal effort.
“It’s like, message received, universe!” Jen cries.
“That wasn’t me,” the Universe chimes in.
“Maybe this is God telling me to stop trying to make this work,” Jen sobs.
“When did you start trying?” God is with the Universe on this one.
Jen’s got to tell Rishi this news in front of the chai-guy, and leaves out the part where this information was readily available to her the entire time. Rishi looks like he just took a kick from Oussama’s donkey, and neither of them are ready to get married in just a month, but they don’t want to break up. Tears happen.
“Would anyone like some more chai?” the chai-guy feels helpless.
Debbie and Oussama leave the airport for Rabat, and Oussama wastes no time sharing what every Arabic man tells their non-Muslim western-would-be-wife on this show, so do I even have to type it? Debbie thinks she’s already sacrificed enough by agreeing to like-button his facebook poetry, and Oussama requests she just learn to be “40% of a Moroccan housewife” — and Moroccan housewives work hard.
“I thought hard work kills the creativity?” Debbie needs to understand there’s two different standards at play here. “I’ve already worked hard my entire life. When do you start?”
Still, Debbie says she’ll warm to the idea if their food is primarily take-out and they agree to get fucked up on wine on the regular. Oussama notes that this is fine, they just can’t drink at the house.
“It makes the angels go outside of the home and makes the devil come inside,” Oussama explains how booze works.
“Finally, a fucking invite!” the devil has been waiting for this moment.
“Is that how you got this way?” Debbie starts putting the pieces in place. “Can we slough them off at a brew pub somewhere, or is this an exorcism situation? Do you have an ancient box I can twirl in my hands?”
Debbie colors this whole turn bizarre, and so she anticipates walking out the same 100% Debbie she was when she walked in.
“I need a drink just thinking about it,” Debbie laughs.
“No, this will be fine,” Oussama reads from his *PUA Handbook for Muslim Men Marrying Western Women for Lulz.* “My word is final. Old American women have so much dumb.”
“Excuse me! Did he say old?” Jen has an issue here.
“Me not old,” Memphis wants to be included.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, so I’m packing, and I’m leaving,” Nicole does her part.
“I don’t know Oussama,” Debbie’s destined for reality tv. “It’s starting to sound like you plan to fuck around and find out.”
They arrive at a gorgeous inn with brilliant decor and architecture, and Debbie marvels at its beauty, before suggesting Oussama might want to be 20% a gentleman and give her back a fucking break and get the bags. God takes revenge on Oussama for suggesting Debbie dilute herself and brains him on his way out of her room.
“He just clotheslined himself bad!” Debbie laughs along with God, who takes full responsibility.
“My neck,” Kris feels it all the way in Colombia.
Debbie puts her stuff away and thinks she’s been left no choice but to remind Oussama of her majesty through jewelry. She makes her grand entrance in a flowing dress, and wants to finalize a few things, since Oussama has already written 40% of her identity out of the story. She asks how long they plan to stay with his parents, and Oussama assures her that she won’t be there long at all, but he’ll probably be there until the planet dies.
“So wait, where am I going to be when the planet dies?”
“Dead,” Oussama hopes this clears things up.
“What if it dies in three months? Where will I be then?”
“Oh, in America,” Oussama thinks she asks a lot of questions, and he swears he explained his policy about cats>humans.
“But I’m wearing a lion’s head,” she directs his attention.
Debbie thinks this information might have been more useful prior to packing, and Oussama says he knew she wouldn’t come then, so as you can see, this deception is fine. Debbie is gobsmacked, and reports the last time she was there he practically floored it to the courthouse, and now he’s demanding a two-month trial run and a return to Georgia before he weighs his options a second time.
“You sure screwed up Oussama,” Debbie sadly shakes her head. “Hell is empty and all the devils are here.”
With that Debbie takes her leave, and vows to get in a quick camel ride and replenish her bead collection before returning to the House of Wonders that has managed to remain enchanted without her.
The Four Day Torment of Kris is ready for Chapter Exhausted, and the box of pills and magic shot have narcolepsied Kris into a denim-coma, granting Jeymi a chance to escape this tit-pillow prison. She asks Kris if she still wants to take photos on the backs of horses wearing cowboy hats, or if it’s cool for her to change out of this outfit, and Kris says Jeymi should go it alone while she face-plants and listens to “Ring of Fire” on repeat. With that, Jeymi scurries off to meet with friends Alex and Leo.
“HELP ME!” She screams as she runs into the restaurant.
“DID SHE FOLLOW YOU?” Alex and Leo need to know this first.
Jeymi says that somewhere Kris’ car-accident total rose to four, one for each day she’s spent in Colombia, and one of these accidents resulted in a neck injury so confusing that it somehow feels better smashed sideways into a moosh pillow.
“Kris also said it would be better if you didn’t meet her before we’re already married,” Jeymi frowns.
“Has she been in jail?” Alex has a wager he’s looking to settle. “Is she there now?”
“Does she think everything south of Texas is Mexico?” Leo has a bet of his own. “Is Tucker Carlson her president?”
They tell Jeymi this is why their original advice was to leave her at the airport, and she interjects that Kris is going back there soon enough anyway.
“Because she’s going to jail?” Alex isn’t letting his theory dissolve, but is willing to wait.
Nicole waffles around the house in search of a storyline other than clothing, and settles on slow-motion ironing, which is still clothing, and another reason to be late to Mahmoud’s uncle’s house. Uncle owns a garment factory, and Mahmoud and Nicole think they can turn her designs into a family business, once they’re married to other people. For reasons known only to Mahmoud, he believes this sojourn to the next House of Judgment will relax Nicole.
“I feel that once she sees my aunt completely covered with only her eyes exposed, she’ll understand how respectful this is,” Mahmoud says things.
Nicole’s welcomed into the house, and they share her sketches with the family, while Nicole describes a strange, isolated hamlet of America where women are restricted to short sleeves and skirts with nary a pant to be found.
“What?” Every clothing shop from LA to NYC has questions.
Uncle Fashion reports that Nicole’s designs are a good start, but they’re not quite a burqa yet, and he’s wondering when Mahmoud is going to brainwash Nicole into thinking a similar outfit is her own idea. Nicole thinks this is a very personal question, and thought she made it clear she’s there for a business opportunity. Uncle says if she hadn’t converted and somehow fallen into the strictest circle of religious Egypt this wouldn’t be a thing. Mahmoud tells them that Nicole doesn’t understand the purpose of the hijab, or any facet of the religion beyond the single sentence she willingly recited prior to nuptials, but he’s made a point to repeatedly bring it up while speaking of nothing else. Uncle retorts that the clothing is not the most important part, the praying is, and Nicole says that Mahmoud still has to teach her this.
“I’m having a crisis of faith,” Nicole describes losing something she never had. “I still need to iron it and find the shoes to match.”
“Trust me, praying is more important than the clothes,” Uncle insists.
“Not to Mahmoud!” Nicole objects.
“There are books that could answer a lot of these questions…” God tries.
“I was not told there would be reading!” Nicole objects again.
“Right?!” Jen’s on board.
STILL TO COME THIS SEASON: Kris and Jeymi commit love crimes in front of astonished witnesses, Jen travels through time towards her actual age, Nicole dresses like a lady-sperm on an important ovarian quest, Gabe shares his secrets with Isabel’s family, Daniele goes snorkeling for new complaints, and Yohan finds an excuse to reference the baby-arm in his pants.
Thank you, Patreon supporters!

Gabe and Isabel have nearly enough characters in their tale to warrant a spin-off series, so time to crowd the stage and introduce Gabe’s stunt-friend Trey.
“What’s the point of me again?” Trey needs clarification over basketball. “How did we meet?”
“I heard you speaking English?” Gabe tries. “Oh, I’m trans. That and not knowing you is why I didn’t add you on social media.”
“Whoa! And you want to marry this girl?” Trey remembers his lines. “I mean, you should pause and think about it. Do you really want to be with someone who loves and accepts you?”
“Yes?” Gabe isn’t sure Trey is living up to the fake-friend promise.
“Well I would slow down, and definitely don’t ask for her hand in marriage and reveal the trans thing on the same visit with the parents,” Trey advises. “Every sitcom gives you 30 minutes to chew on a coming-out before the wedding episode, and this show is like a thousand minutes long.”
“Yeah, but the cameras make it a bit safer,” Gabe has a point.
“Did that stop River from lamp-smacking Pedro?” Trey has three points!
Gabe remains resolved so Trey takes his doubt on the road and meets up with Gabe and Isabel at a spot where they usually bro-out doing man things like smashing stuff with their beef-mitts in front of tits. Isabel does her best to believe Gabe has a second-life as a nomadic womanizer without guffawing. Perhaps the fake business and the real surgeries and actual families provide sufficient drama without the need for Trey’s services?
“I’m afraid not,” production has notes. “Normally, yes, but we’ve got a LOT of sad white women this season. Without these two, it’s basically crying and Nicole looking like she wants to return to the sea.”
“Speaking of secretos,” Trey isn’t ready to abandon the spotlight just yet. “How about that trans business? Did you know about this, Isabella?”
“Really?” Isabel won’t last much longer.
“It’s Isabel,” Mateo, Isabel’s friend, manifests like Daniele’s watching.
“Did YOU know about this?” Trey needs to ask this some more. “This culture es muy machismo. Mucho cheesimo. Muy.”
“Muy confuso,” M’Hog agrees.
“Colombia is more progressive than Alabama,” Jeymi has been talking to Kris. “Are any of you even armed right now?”
Gabe gets a bit worried when Isabel mentions her dad being religious, since the bulk of Gabe’s daily hate comes from trolls and people who use religion to justify bigotry. All the same, the whole family prepares to head to Isabel’s parents’ house for a few days, with Miguel taking on the turtle-transport task like someone who wants his reptiles to live. The parents are excited to see them, and report endorsing Gabe as a partner, since he has a good heart and a “special disposition to love Isabel.” After greeting and asking about sleeping arrangements, dad says Gabe will sleep in separate quarters since he’s a guest.
“Oh, I’m not a virgin,” Isabel breaks the news to them gently, hiding Miguel behind her back.
“More secretos!” Trey won’t leave.
They sit down to eat, and ask Gabe how Colombian food measures against American cuisine, and Gabe reports food in Miami is just deep-fried golf balls, and Colombian food has ingredients. Gabe adds that he’s calling Colombia home now, to further his relationship with Isabel. Dad can’t help but smile when Gabe mentions wanting to be with her his whole life, and the grandparents quiz the kids to make sure they’re on board with this plan. Miguel shrugs his support, while daughter says that she’s happy when her mom is happy.
“If God is not in our lives it won’t work out,” dad adds ominously.
“Okay,” Gabe is scared. “By God do you mean like God-God, or like red Starbucks cup God, or just-cover-your-body-and-serve-me God, or…”
Jen’s been trying to leave India since her plane landed, and this time tells Rishi she’s not keen to join the family home.
“Okay,” Rishi says.
“Really?” Jen looks for the fire exits.
As a compromise, Jen allows Rishi more time to tell his family he’ll be booing-up with the weird white lady who talks to them like they’re feral children communicating with claps.
Jen’s creeping up on 30 days in India, and she learned watching Jenny’s 23 seasons that all that’s required to stretch a visa to four months is leaving every 30 days. She rolls into a lawyer’s office with one week to spare and no fucks to give about the cost of airfare, to see how far she needs to go to be far enough from India to avoid offending the country.
“You do not have the google?” the lawyer is understandably stunned this is happening.
“I have two masters’ degrees, and haven’t read since,” Jen explains. Then she tells the lawyer and his paternal supervisor that she’s engaged, and would like to remain in India as God allows.
“Why do they keep trying to drag me into this?” God is exhausted.
The lawyer asks to see her visa, so Jen surrenders her phone.
“When are you getting married?” the lawyer asks, scanning her photos for nudes.
“He hasn’t told his family yet,” Jen TMI’s.
“So never,” the lawyer shrugs. “You’re going to need another tourist visa.”
“BUT!”
“This is your phone, correct?” the lawyer is over it. “Do you see where it says ‘number of entries’? The answer to your riddle lies here.”
“Whaaaaa? I thought ‘single’ was my marital status!”
“This is crazy American behavior,’ the lawyer is a touch too on-the-nose.
“Look, this is my fucking livelihood,” Camera #1 needs the lawyer to know what she’s been through. “Just wait until we leave to laugh like everyone else, and focus on distributing doom!”
Jen insists that nothing worth doing has ever been hard, and a life-changing decision should demand minimal effort.
“It’s like, message received, universe!” Jen cries.
“That wasn’t me,” the Universe chimes in.
“Maybe this is God telling me to stop trying to make this work,” Jen sobs.
“When did you start trying?” God is with the Universe on this one.
Jen’s got to tell Rishi this news in front of the chai-guy, and leaves out the part where this information was readily available to her the entire time. Rishi looks like he just took a kick from Oussama’s donkey, and neither of them are ready to get married in just a month, but they don’t want to break up. Tears happen.
“Would anyone like some more chai?” the chai-guy feels helpless.
Debbie and Oussama leave the airport for Rabat, and Oussama wastes no time sharing what every Arabic man tells their non-Muslim western-would-be-wife on this show, so do I even have to type it? Debbie thinks she’s already sacrificed enough by agreeing to like-button his facebook poetry, and Oussama requests she just learn to be “40% of a Moroccan housewife” — and Moroccan housewives work hard.
“I thought hard work kills the creativity?” Debbie needs to understand there’s two different standards at play here. “I’ve already worked hard my entire life. When do you start?”
Still, Debbie says she’ll warm to the idea if their food is primarily take-out and they agree to get fucked up on wine on the regular. Oussama notes that this is fine, they just can’t drink at the house.
“It makes the angels go outside of the home and makes the devil come inside,” Oussama explains how booze works.
“Finally, a fucking invite!” the devil has been waiting for this moment.
“Is that how you got this way?” Debbie starts putting the pieces in place. “Can we slough them off at a brew pub somewhere, or is this an exorcism situation? Do you have an ancient box I can twirl in my hands?”
Debbie colors this whole turn bizarre, and so she anticipates walking out the same 100% Debbie she was when she walked in.
“I need a drink just thinking about it,” Debbie laughs.
“No, this will be fine,” Oussama reads from his *PUA Handbook for Muslim Men Marrying Western Women for Lulz.* “My word is final. Old American women have so much dumb.”
“Excuse me! Did he say old?” Jen has an issue here.
“Me not old,” Memphis wants to be included.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, so I’m packing, and I’m leaving,” Nicole does her part.
“I don’t know Oussama,” Debbie’s destined for reality tv. “It’s starting to sound like you plan to fuck around and find out.”
They arrive at a gorgeous inn with brilliant decor and architecture, and Debbie marvels at its beauty, before suggesting Oussama might want to be 20% a gentleman and give her back a fucking break and get the bags. God takes revenge on Oussama for suggesting Debbie dilute herself and brains him on his way out of her room.
“He just clotheslined himself bad!” Debbie laughs along with God, who takes full responsibility.
“My neck,” Kris feels it all the way in Colombia.
Debbie puts her stuff away and thinks she’s been left no choice but to remind Oussama of her majesty through jewelry. She makes her grand entrance in a flowing dress, and wants to finalize a few things, since Oussama has already written 40% of her identity out of the story. She asks how long they plan to stay with his parents, and Oussama assures her that she won’t be there long at all, but he’ll probably be there until the planet dies.
“So wait, where am I going to be when the planet dies?”
“Dead,” Oussama hopes this clears things up.
“What if it dies in three months? Where will I be then?”
“Oh, in America,” Oussama thinks she asks a lot of questions, and he swears he explained his policy about cats>humans.
“But I’m wearing a lion’s head,” she directs his attention.
Debbie thinks this information might have been more useful prior to packing, and Oussama says he knew she wouldn’t come then, so as you can see, this deception is fine. Debbie is gobsmacked, and reports the last time she was there he practically floored it to the courthouse, and now he’s demanding a two-month trial run and a return to Georgia before he weighs his options a second time.
“You sure screwed up Oussama,” Debbie sadly shakes her head. “Hell is empty and all the devils are here.”
With that Debbie takes her leave, and vows to get in a quick camel ride and replenish her bead collection before returning to the House of Wonders that has managed to remain enchanted without her.
The Four Day Torment of Kris is ready for Chapter Exhausted, and the box of pills and magic shot have narcolepsied Kris into a denim-coma, granting Jeymi a chance to escape this tit-pillow prison. She asks Kris if she still wants to take photos on the backs of horses wearing cowboy hats, or if it’s cool for her to change out of this outfit, and Kris says Jeymi should go it alone while she face-plants and listens to “Ring of Fire” on repeat. With that, Jeymi scurries off to meet with friends Alex and Leo.
“HELP ME!” She screams as she runs into the restaurant.
“DID SHE FOLLOW YOU?” Alex and Leo need to know this first.
Jeymi says that somewhere Kris’ car-accident total rose to four, one for each day she’s spent in Colombia, and one of these accidents resulted in a neck injury so confusing that it somehow feels better smashed sideways into a moosh pillow.
“Kris also said it would be better if you didn’t meet her before we’re already married,” Jeymi frowns.
“Has she been in jail?” Alex has a wager he’s looking to settle. “Is she there now?”
“Does she think everything south of Texas is Mexico?” Leo has a bet of his own. “Is Tucker Carlson her president?”
They tell Jeymi this is why their original advice was to leave her at the airport, and she interjects that Kris is going back there soon enough anyway.
“Because she’s going to jail?” Alex isn’t letting his theory dissolve, but is willing to wait.
Nicole waffles around the house in search of a storyline other than clothing, and settles on slow-motion ironing, which is still clothing, and another reason to be late to Mahmoud’s uncle’s house. Uncle owns a garment factory, and Mahmoud and Nicole think they can turn her designs into a family business, once they’re married to other people. For reasons known only to Mahmoud, he believes this sojourn to the next House of Judgment will relax Nicole.
“I feel that once she sees my aunt completely covered with only her eyes exposed, she’ll understand how respectful this is,” Mahmoud says things.
Nicole’s welcomed into the house, and they share her sketches with the family, while Nicole describes a strange, isolated hamlet of America where women are restricted to short sleeves and skirts with nary a pant to be found.
“What?” Every clothing shop from LA to NYC has questions.
Uncle Fashion reports that Nicole’s designs are a good start, but they’re not quite a burqa yet, and he’s wondering when Mahmoud is going to brainwash Nicole into thinking a similar outfit is her own idea. Nicole thinks this is a very personal question, and thought she made it clear she’s there for a business opportunity. Uncle says if she hadn’t converted and somehow fallen into the strictest circle of religious Egypt this wouldn’t be a thing. Mahmoud tells them that Nicole doesn’t understand the purpose of the hijab, or any facet of the religion beyond the single sentence she willingly recited prior to nuptials, but he’s made a point to repeatedly bring it up while speaking of nothing else. Uncle retorts that the clothing is not the most important part, the praying is, and Nicole says that Mahmoud still has to teach her this.
“I’m having a crisis of faith,” Nicole describes losing something she never had. “I still need to iron it and find the shoes to match.”
“Trust me, praying is more important than the clothes,” Uncle insists.
“Not to Mahmoud!” Nicole objects.
“There are books that could answer a lot of these questions…” God tries.
“I was not told there would be reading!” Nicole objects again.
“Right?!” Jen’s on board.
STILL TO COME THIS SEASON: Kris and Jeymi commit love crimes in front of astonished witnesses, Jen travels through time towards her actual age, Nicole dresses like a lady-sperm on an important ovarian quest, Gabe shares his secrets with Isabel’s family, Daniele goes snorkeling for new complaints, and Yohan finds an excuse to reference the baby-arm in his pants.
Thank you, Patreon supporters, and generous Venmo tipper! patreon.com/fractalfay

**Discord RP** Hello! I am a lady, I’m in my 30s, I have been playing for about 20 years, now. Sheesh, that’s a long time. I work part time, I also have an active social life for the most part. That being said, I won’t be around everyday, but pretty often, even if it’s to chat. That’s what smart phones are for.
Anywho, I am looking for a long-term partner to play fictional OCs, that is semi to advanced literate and 25+ in age. I usually like to write between 3-5 paragraphs. But, with a busy schedule(yours or mine), I wouldn’t mind a quick-fire paragraph to keep things going. 80% romantic, 20% smut. I’m more interested in the story than the sex scenes. I enjoy a lot of humor! I, myself, am a pretty goofy person.
My idea is pretty simple. A woman and a man meet randomly in a modern world. They end up liking one another. Little do they both know about each other is that they are in the business of exterminating human beings secretly. They each have a cover with normal careers and lives. They come to find out that they work for rival assassin associations. Once this information comes to light, and after they attempt to off each other.. to no avail.. They have to make a decision to choose one another, or the company they work for. Ideally, I would like for them to be in their late 20s or early 30s. Not picky about Face claims, we can throw faces at each other to see what we fits most for our eye candy. I like to use celebrities and models with lots of photos as PBs/FCs.
TWs: guns, violence, knives, all weapons, sex, blood, profanity, nudity
Smut breakdown: No extravagantly kinky stuff. Would like to keep things pretty basic, or "vanilla" unless negotiated otherwise.
Not a big fan of immaturity, misogyny, racism. Let’s have fun! Please don’t be a jerk ^_^ Feel free to message me here on Reddit to see if we click!

The events of this story take place during my teen years, 13-17yo when my mother and I moved into a new rental property. The details might be a bit patchy here, as I don’t have a lot of good memories associated with this house, and I’ve done my best to forget about a lot of the events of these years. However, I do have one good memory of petty revenge I got one day on a neighbor. Just to give you a little backstory, my family had very limited funds at the time, and had just used what little spare money we had on moving expenses – we couldn’t afford to move again, so didn’t advocate as much for ourselves as we should have. Literally on the day we moved in, we turned on the radiator heaters and discovered that the radiators couldn’t be turned on, as the radiators caused a leak in the living room ceiling. The landlord was aware of this, but wouldn’t be fixing this and told us to buy a space heater to keep warm in winter. Neither would he be fixing the broken downstairs bathroom or replacing the roof, and he told us that if we wanted the walls painted, we could buy paint and do it ourselves – we hadn’t asked about paint, he just volunteered that we could put our time and resources into improving his house if we wanted to. Which of course we didn’t want to do. The worst thing he ever did was open our door one Saturday morning without notice or knocking, while we were still in our beds upstairs, and shout into our house that he was just checking in; this was a violation of our lease, and he left without telling us that he’d let our sick cat outside when he opened the door. Luckily, I found the little guy on a porch across the street later that day, but I was so mad at our landlord. This story isn’t about horrible landlords though. It’s about our neighbors, Karen (~40F) and Ken (~40M). The backstory was to explain why we wanted nothing to do with our terrible landlord, and it just so happened that the day we moved in, Karen and Ken who lived next door told us that they were his friends, implying that if we did anything they didn’t like he’d be hearing about it. It was hard to avoid Karen and Ken, since we shared a front porch with them (rowhouse), and they were true to their word. If our lawn got too shabby, Karen and Ken let him know. If our trashcans didn’t have lids, Karen and Ken called the county to put violation stickers on our cans. If the rat inspector was in the neighborhood, they sent the inspector under our back porch. It was like walking on eggshells in our own home. Despite all this (or because of it) we tried to stay on good terms with these terrible neighbors for the first couple years. We wouldn’t say anything to Ken when he came into our yard for dandelion greens for his pet iguana without even asking for permission. Then around when I was 15yo, Ken asked me if he could hire me for a job. He and his family would be going on a family vacation that winter, and he needed a dog walker for his daughter’s dog. We agreed on a rate (I don’t remember how much), and I walked his dog for him 3 times a day for 2 weeks, even when it snowed. The dog was elderly and didn’t give me any trouble, but I could have done without the bad weather. My mother was very proud of me for taking the job, as she hoped this would be a fresh start with this family and we’d get on better terms. Once Ken and his family returned from vacation, I gave him an update on his daughter’s dog and told him how well behaved she’d been. I expected him to pay me, but he didn’t say anything about money. Since I was a shy teenager, I went home without payment, but asked him about it the next time I saw him – he said, “It’s my daughter’s dog, ask her for your money.” His daughter was a college student who wasn’t even at home that much, but I couldn’t force him to pay me so just left again without payment. About a week later, I saw his daughter (probably home for the weekend from college), but she said she didn’t have any money when I asked and said she’d tell her dad to pay me. Guess what happened the next time I asked him? He was angry this time and repeated what he’d said the first time, even when I mentioned asking his daughter. Yeah, I never got paid, and my mother and I were too scared to ask again. Looking back on this, I feel like they knew how intimidated we were of their relationship with our landlord. One call to him about us harassing them, and we’d be homeless. They knew we were terrified of them and that they’d never have to pay me for walking their dog. Yeah, they took advantage of a 15yo kid. Around this time or maybe a year later, my mom had a conversation with Karen. Karen had actually been friendly recently. She took an artistic photo of our cat in our kitchen window (a black and white photo with interesting light going across the cat’s face), which she gave to my mom since she thought it looked pretty. We thought the whole interaction was odd, since Karen admitted to hating cats in the past, but my mom accepted the photo like an olive branch. Then Karen mentioned a tree growing in our back yard. It was what we call in this area a “trash tree” since it’s the fast-growing variety. She said she was worried it was going to drop seeds into her yard and spread, but her brother could help us with it if we liked… for $100. My mom considered it, and thought it was a good price, so she agreed. Looking back on it, I know that our landlord probably should have been the one to pay for this, but my mom was worried he’d come to the house to cut it down himself, so she agreed to let Karen’s brother do it. Over the course of two days, Karen’s brother cut down the tree and hauled away the rubbish. When he sent us the bill, it was $300. When my mom asked about the price, he insisted that the job was bigger than he’d anticipated, which resulted in the 3x cost. He got angry about being questioned as well, so my mom cut him a check. This was the second time we’d felt taken advantage of by them. My mom was a single mother, struggling to make ends meet, and they knew this. $300 was a lot of money for us. They constantly reminded us of their relationship with our landlord, being sure to stand outside and chat with him for 30min following our biannual inspections. On one particular visit, the landlord stared at our front yard, as if expecting it to be shabby, and said, “It looks good. I don’t know what they were talking about…” since he’d obviously been informed otherwise. No matter what we did, Karen and Ken hated us and wanted us gone, and wouldn’t stop mentioning any little thing they could to our landlord. At a certain point, around when I was 17yo, we stopped making nice with them. No more cordial smiles and waves were exchanged on either side. On one particular day, my mom and I were gardening in the front yard. Ken, who was a little less hostile than his wife, did greet us as he opened his front door. He left it open, as he was painting, and walked away. And here comes the revenge. Our neighborhood had a bit of a feral cat problem. We had been feeding the cats, which Ken and Karen in particular viewed as vermin – perhaps that’s why they hated us? My mom was friends with another woman in the neighborhood, who was helping to catch and fix the cats. One cat in particular that hung out in our yard was grey and less than a year old. I’ll call her Jillian for the purpose of this story. Jillian usually stuck to the back yard, which is why I was surprised to see her in the front yard while gardening. She was a feral cat who had never been in a house in her whole life, so I was shocked to see her sniffing around Ken’s open front door. I didn’t expect her to go into their house, but I didn’t discourage her. And inside she went. I started laughing, picturing the look on Karen’s face when she saw a cat in her house. I love cats, so if I had been a little older, I probably would have kept Jillian away from those people to protect her, but as a teenager all I could think of was the satisfaction of getting sweet petty revenge on Karen and her husband after all the years of grief they’d put us through. And then I heard it, that shrill scream and running footsteps. I did my best to stifle my laughter, knowing what had happened. Karen was facing her worst nightmare, a small fluffy adolescent kitten. My conscience was eating at me a bit, because I didn’t know what those people would do to Jillian, and also… maybe I could get a closer look. I knocked on the ajar door and asked if everything was okay, since I’d heard a scream. Ken told me there was a cat in his house and asked if it was mine (even though he knows we had inside cats only). I told him it was a feral cat who’d never been handled, but I volunteered assistance catching her. Ken led me upstairs where I saw it – that sweet, sweet pro revenge. Ken said the cat was in the bathroom, and as I walked down the hallway, Karen peeked around a door, perhaps wondering who her husband was talking to. Then she looked back to the bathroom, eyes wide and wild, and let out another shriek – I was looking at a grown woman in her 40s screaming at a little cat like it was a rat. I don’t know how I didn’t laugh again in her face as she slammed the bedroom door to hide, but I’ll never forget the look on her face. It was so worth it. With Ken behind me, I went into his bathroom. The cat was climbing the shower curtain, and I didn’t blame Jillian for being scared (I was scared of Karen, too). She let me hold her under the armpits away from my body and didn’t bite or scratch as I lifted her off of the shower curtain and carried her out of the house to be released back into the yard. Ken thanked me, but he gave me a suspicious look like he thought the cat might have been mine since she didn’t attack me. But I didn’t care about his unvoiced suspicion. I’d gotten to see his ridiculous wife acting like an elephant who was spooked by a mouse. Things didn’t improve with those neighbors, not that we’d expected them to – they even complained a year later when we moved about how much space our moving van took up on the day we finally got out of that house. I adopted Jillian and took her with me when I moved. I still own her today, and she’s no longer feral. Sometimes I pet her and think about that revenge she helped me get on Karen. I know it was a small payback on those people, but the real win was finally getting away from them.

Hi Ripe, I love your videos and have been following you for a while. I'd love to share a story of petty revenge with you.
The events of this story take place during my teen years, 13-17yo when my mother and I moved into a new rental property. The details might be a bit patchy here, as I don’t have a lot of good memories associated with this house, and I’ve done my best to forget about a lot of the events of these years. However, I do have one good memory of petty revenge I got one day on a neighbor. Just to give you a little backstory, my family had very limited funds at the time, and had just used what little spare money we had on moving expenses – we couldn’t afford to move again, so didn’t advocate as much for ourselves as we should have. Literally on the day we moved in, we turned on the radiator heaters and discovered that the radiators couldn’t be turned on, as the radiators caused a leak in the living room ceiling. The landlord was aware of this, but wouldn’t be fixing this and told us to buy a space heater to keep warm in winter. Neither would he be fixing the broken downstairs bathroom or replacing the roof, and he told us that if we wanted the walls painted, we could buy paint and do it ourselves – we hadn’t asked about paint, he just volunteered that we could put our time and resources into improving his house if we wanted to. Which of course we didn’t want to do. The worst thing he ever did was open our door one Saturday morning without notice or knocking, while we were still in our beds upstairs, and shout into our house that he was just checking in; this was a violation of our lease, and he left without telling us that he’d let our sick cat outside when he opened the door. Luckily, I found the little guy on a porch across the street later that day, but I was so mad at our landlord. This story isn’t about horrible landlords though. It’s about our neighbors, Karen (~40F) and Ken (~40M). The backstory was to explain why we wanted nothing to do with our terrible landlord, and it just so happened that the day we moved in, Karen and Ken who lived next door told us that they were his friends, implying that if we did anything they didn’t like he’d be hearing about it. It was hard to avoid Karen and Ken, since we shared a front porch with them (rowhouse), and they were true to their word. If our lawn got too shabby, Karen and Ken let him know. If our trashcans didn’t have lids, Karen and Ken called the county to put violation stickers on our cans. If the rat inspector was in the neighborhood, they sent the inspector under our back porch. It was like walking on eggshells in our own home. Despite all this (or because of it) we tried to stay on good terms with these terrible neighbors for the first couple years. We wouldn’t say anything to Ken when he came into our yard for dandelion greens for his pet iguana without even asking for permission. Then around when I was 15yo, Ken asked me if he could hire me for a job. He and his family would be going on a family vacation that winter, and he needed a dog walker for his daughter’s dog. We agreed on a rate (I don’t remember how much), and I walked his dog for him 3 times a day for 2 weeks, even when it snowed. The dog was elderly and didn’t give me any trouble, but I could have done without the bad weather. My mother was very proud of me for taking the job, as she hoped this would be a fresh start with this family and we’d get on better terms. Once Ken and his family returned from vacation, I gave him an update on his daughter’s dog and told him how well behaved she’d been. I expected him to pay me, but he didn’t say anything about money. Since I was a shy teenager, I went home without payment, but asked him about it the next time I saw him – he said, “It’s my daughter’s dog, ask her for your money.” His daughter was a college student who wasn’t even at home that much, but I couldn’t force him to pay me so just left again without payment. About a week later, I saw his daughter (probably home for the weekend from college), but she said she didn’t have any money when I asked and said she’d tell her dad to pay me. Guess what happened the next time I asked him? He was angry this time and repeated what he’d said the first time, even when I mentioned asking his daughter. Yeah, I never got paid, and my mother and I were too scared to ask again. Looking back on this, I feel like they knew how intimidated we were of their relationship with our landlord. One call to him about us harassing them, and we’d be homeless. They knew we were terrified of them and that they’d never have to pay me for walking their dog. Yeah, they took advantage of a 15yo kid. Around this time or maybe a year later, my mom had a conversation with Karen. Karen had actually been friendly recently. She took an artistic photo of our cat in our kitchen window (a black and white photo with interesting light going across the cat’s face), which she gave to my mom since she thought it looked pretty. We thought the whole interaction was odd, since Karen admitted to hating cats in the past, but my mom accepted the photo like an olive branch. Then Karen mentioned a tree growing in our back yard. It was what we call in this area a “trash tree” since it’s the fast-growing variety. She said she was worried it was going to drop seeds into her yard and spread, but her brother could help us with it if we liked… for $100. My mom considered it, and thought it was a good price, so she agreed. Looking back on it, I know that our landlord probably should have been the one to pay for this, but my mom was worried he’d come to the house to cut it down himself, so she agreed to let Karen’s brother do it. Over the course of two days, Karen’s brother cut down the tree and hauled away the rubbish. When he sent us the bill, it was $300. When my mom asked about the price, he insisted that the job was bigger than he’d anticipated, which resulted in the 3x cost. He got angry about being questioned as well, so my mom cut him a check. This was the second time we’d felt taken advantage of by them. My mom was a single mother, struggling to make ends meet, and they knew this. $300 was a lot of money for us. They constantly reminded us of their relationship with our landlord, being sure to stand outside and chat with him for 30min following our biannual inspections. On one particular visit, the landlord stared at our front yard, as if expecting it to be shabby, and said, “It looks good. I don’t know what they were talking about…” since he’d obviously been informed otherwise. No matter what we did, Karen and Ken hated us and wanted us gone, and wouldn’t stop mentioning any little thing they could to our landlord. At a certain point, around when I was 17yo, we stopped making nice with them. No more cordial smiles and waves were exchanged on either side. On one particular day, my mom and I were gardening in the front yard. Ken, who was a little less hostile than his wife, did greet us as he opened his front door. He left it open, as he was painting, and walked away. And here comes the revenge. Our neighborhood had a bit of a feral cat problem. We had been feeding the cats, which Ken and Karen in particular viewed as vermin – perhaps that’s why they hated us? My mom was friends with another woman in the neighborhood, who was helping to catch and fix the cats. One cat in particular that hung out in our yard was grey and less than a year old. I’ll call her Jillian for the purpose of this story. Jillian usually stuck to the back yard, which is why I was surprised to see her in the front yard while gardening. She was a feral cat who had never been in a house in her whole life, so I was shocked to see her sniffing around Ken’s open front door. I didn’t expect her to go into their house, but I didn’t discourage her. And inside she went. I started laughing, picturing the look on Karen’s face when she saw a cat in her house. I love cats, so if I had been a little older, I probably would have kept Jillian away from those people to protect her, but as a teenager all I could think of was the satisfaction of getting sweet petty revenge on Karen and her husband after all the years of grief they’d put us through. And then I heard it, that shrill scream and running footsteps. I did my best to stifle my laughter, knowing what had happened. Karen was facing her worst nightmare, a small fluffy adolescent kitten. My conscience was eating at me a bit, because I didn’t know what those people would do to Jillian, and also… maybe I could get a closer look. I knocked on the ajar door and asked if everything was okay, since I’d heard a scream. Ken told me there was a cat in his house and asked if it was mine (even though he knows we had inside cats only). I told him it was a feral cat who’d never been handled, but I volunteered assistance catching her. Ken led me upstairs where I saw it – that sweet, sweet pro revenge. Ken said the cat was in the bathroom, and as I walked down the hallway, Karen peeked around a door, perhaps wondering who her husband was talking to. Then she looked back to the bathroom, eyes wide and wild, and let out another shriek – I was looking at a grown woman in her 40s screaming at a little cat like it was a rat. I don’t know how I didn’t laugh again in her face as she slammed the bedroom door to hide, but I’ll never forget the look on her face. It was so worth it. With Ken behind me, I went into his bathroom. The cat was climbing the shower curtain, and I didn’t blame Jillian for being scared (I was scared of Karen, too). She let me hold her under the armpits away from my body and didn’t bite or scratch as I lifted her off of the shower curtain and carried her out of the house to be released back into the yard. Ken thanked me, but he gave me a suspicious look like he thought the cat might have been mine since she didn’t attack me. But I didn’t care about his unvoiced suspicion. I’d gotten to see his ridiculous wife acting like an elephant who was spooked by a mouse. Things didn’t improve with those neighbors, not that we’d expected them to – they even complained a year later when we moved about how much space our moving van took up on the day we finally got out of that house. I adopted Jillian and took her with me when I moved. I still own her today, and she’s no longer feral. Sometimes I pet her and think about that revenge she helped me get on Karen. I know it was a small payback on those people, but the real win was finally getting away from them.

I know in Japan, they literally present ads such as this dieting ad [They're not girls, it's adult women despite their physique.] Other methods include promotions on Japanese media along the lines of: "Place this pad on your belly and let the gels do the work" - Fact: doesn't do shit at all! Including excessive intake of these pills which according to the FDA contain Benzocaine - a local anesthetic used to relieve pain in both the mouth and gums.
I figure it's a low-effort photo shop literally baiting women in Japan who fall victim to an impossible expectation in which seriously, being 50-60kg with 150-60cm in height is considered fat in Japan for what is a healthy weight in Europe or the west. In the eyes of beauty in Japan, they literally want them to be thin reaching the extent of being bulimic or brink of starvation just to be deemed as skinny.
The thing is that Japan is one of the healthiest countries there's no point for them to diet when the food they're used to eating provides them with the nutrients they need, the issue is the standard of beauty is way too rigid which results on women going on a diet despite already been thin at a healthy weight, but they are resorting to becoming like 30kg, 25kg or even below where their bones are visible. I swear that weight loss culture in Japan is toxic in terms of how it's represented like:

Diet pills
< 45 KG - Accepted as skinny
> 45 KG - Fat
Photo-shopped ads (deception)
Thin as a skeleton to be seen as "beautiful"
Healthy weight is still "fat" there
Absurd methods of losing weight: eg. gel pads

So I've been playing D&D 5e for almost eight years now, and I want to tell the story of the best combat encounter I ever had the chance to play in where my character really got the chance to shine, and I just gotta geek out about it a bit - because it's really a case of mechanics playing into narrative for a real blaze-of-glory finale fight kind of moment.
Our party? The Dead Ringers. A band of five given magic rings by an imprisoned deity alongside several teams, offering wishes to whoever first freed it - kicking off a race across the globe and eventually, across the planes. In this case, we'd finally approached the finish line, taking us to Shadowfell for a showdown with the last force guarding our goal: a band of revenants formed out of previous adventurers who presumably tried and failed the race - a Goliath Barbarian, a Human Wizard, and an Orc Monk - flanked by a metric fuckton of ghosts.
Our leader? A Valor Bard - notably, the former lover of the Revenant Monk before her death, shocked to encounter her when we arrived in Shadowfell and intent on settling things once and for all, hoping to use his wish to bring her back. A true jack of all trades with support spells, magical damage, and martial prowess to rapidly swap between roles in a scuffle.
At his side, our Moon Druid - an Eladrin, relentless optimist and reckless flirt with the lovelorn bard, only to eventually share the reason for her participation in the race was to wish for her village's resurrection...including her child. A tank for the ages who's bestial forms had eaten more damage than any of us could remember. (And, FYI? While this story'll be focusing on the rad stuff that happened with my character, absolute MVP of this fight. Spoiler alert: restrained condition is nasty. You say "restrained" around this group, and to this day it looks like you just said a sleeper agent code word.)
Above us, the Light Cleric - an Owlin who'd recently pledged his allegiance to the imprisoned deity outright, emerging from a crisis of faith. Our primary healer, keeping us alive from above...but with far more firepower than we'd yet realized, as would soon become apparent.
At the back, an Aberrant Mind Sorcerer, the latest addition to our party. Our Fighter had sacrificed herself to get us to Shadowfell at all, and filling the empty slot in our party, the Sorcerer had been trapped in Shadowfell long before we arrived and offered guidance to us as the first real living beings she'd seen in ages. She hoped to use that wish to get herself home to the Material Plane at last, and she packed some major psychic firepower to do it.
And then, me. Tamah Lagoon, Triton, Level 5 Gloomstalker Ranger and Level 3 Assassin Rogue. Tamah's the "Big Guy" of our Five Man Band, a towering, broad-shouldered boisterous fisherman that passed well for human hailing from far-flung islands where he was worshipped among the humans who took him in as a God of the Hunt, imbuing him with downright absurd confidence and the earnest belief in his own predestined victory and immortality, his magic coming from the ancient traditions of his people and their pantheon and his participation in the race initially not even mentioning a wish. He's just here for the sport of it. Think someplace between early Thor and Aquaman. I joined the campaign late and pretty much inherited the concept of 'triton hunter' from a player that hadn't really gotten into the roleplay aspect, and had a lot of fun getting to make it my own by really leaning into a lot of Maori-inspired iconography and general seafaring goodness - his bow using harpoons in place of arrows, his daggers serrated knives for fish-gutting, and his Gloomstalker stealth letting him slip into darkness like black water, slipping out of darkvision's sight into the depths.
Up til' now? As you'd expect of a Gloomstalker, Tamah was mostly a stealth-sniper - staying out of most creatures' capacity to see him and piling on damage from afar, his minimal experience with actual damage helping to reinforce his belief in his 'immortal status', alongside Tritons possessing an incredibly long lifespan in this setting.
This time though? No such luck. These Revenants were dead-set on us - and there's no hiding from a Revenant that's deemed you its quarry, Gloomstalker or not. The Monk leapt into action right out the gate, stopped from taking down a bunch of us with Stunning Strikes by our Druid - quickly transforming into a Giant Snake and constricting her in her coils. The Cleric took to the skies, focused on keeping out of harm's way to assure we had someone to heal us. The Bard and Sorcerer stayed close to the wildshaped Druid, fending off the swarm of incoming ghosts.
Things started out fine for Tamah, for a moment - using his Cunning Action to break away from the group towards someplace he could get a good angle on the Revenant Wizard and spending the first chunk keeping him occupied. Hunter's Mark made it hard for him to stay hidden for long regardless of his efforts to Misty Step to safety, a healthy dose of arrows gave him good reason to keep dropping to prone to enforce disadvantage on my shots...and left him open for a Silence spell to be cast on him that, with half his movement spent getting up, he couldn't get out of on his turn.
But sure enough, there was still the Revenant Barbarian, who wasn't having any of this shit - and without the ability to hide? There wasn't any of the usual buffer between Tamah and the heavy-hitters, making him a prime target. The Sorcerer finished off the Wizard while Tamah desperately tried to play keep-away with the enemy tank - his Rage shrugging off most of the damage he was putting out, with only that Cunning Action Dash keeping him out of reach of a total thrashing...at least, temporarily.
But in time, it'd become an all-out duel. Tamah'd been knocked prone and beaten up badly in the process - only managing to escape in one piece thanks to remembering the Revenant Barbarian had been a Goliath, a warrior people with a code of honor he could relate to, leading to a Persuasion Check to pull a "help me up so we can fight to the death like civilized people" that I'd managed a Nat 20 on. Made for a very cool moment with both of these big, burly warriors trading blows back and forth, the enemy helping the Ranger up only to keep the fight going.
...but sure enough? Things were beginning to take a turn. Tamah'd managed to once again use his speed to break away from melee range unscathed, but...the ghosts had began to overwhelm the Bard and the Sorcerer. The Druid was completely occupied keeping the Monk restrained turn after turn - incredibly effective strategy to basically just hold the most dangerous enemy in a chokehold the whole damn fight, but that also meant if she goes down? We've got a whole other villain to deal with at high hit points with ki to spare on stuns. The instinct had been to stay at a distance, keep firing off shots, keep out of sight...but the others weren't going to last at this rate. And without a Ranger to chase? The Goliath had taken to slinging javelins at our Cleric, who wasn't looking so hot either. We could all smell a TPK in the air, reminded of the sort of fight that cost us our Fighter.
And, like so many good D&D stories before this one, this began with "I've got a really dumb idea".
As Tamah - no longer interested in hiding - stepped forward. Walked right out into the middle of the mayhem. Yelled out, at the top of his lungs, proclaiming his self-convinced godly status, challenging everyone to take him on. With those Rogue levels, he'd put expertise into Intimidation - and the plan was to draw aggro from all the enemies on the field at once.
We all knew what that meant - DM included. The makings of another sacrifice, a big last-stand to hold the line while the others rush off to finish it. Tamah going out trident held high in a blaze of glory, the sort of death he'd have wanted if he ever believed he was physically capable of death. Dreading the worst, our Bard threw Bane to the ghosts he could as the swarm closed in, with an Inspiration for good measure.
Ten ghosts and a Barbarian, circled around Tamah. Low health and something in the neighborhood of AC 17, with Valor Bard Inspiration at the ready to boost it a bit. Tamah'd gone from a sniper staying hidden off in the shadows to the sort of foolhardy pirate king he'd framed himself to be, trident at the ready as the attacks rolled out.
And with that Bane, Inspiration, and a Warding Flare from our Cleric?
Twelve attacks. Twelve goddamn misses.
I can't even begin to tell you the way a Discord call full of longtime players popped off like we were watching the Superbowl, in utter thrilled disbelief as a mix of luck and scrambling for each and every damage-reduction-ability our casters had managed to finally make Tamah live up to his reputation. For good measure? At one point, the Barbarian swung a Crit Fail and fell prone - only for Tamah to use his reaction to help him back up, returning one good turn with another. Honor. The DM, who'd brilliantly been making these stakes feel dire-as-hell up til' now, cued me up to narrate how the hell Tamah survived all that. Like moving through water, a crashing wave of force as the trident caught blades between its prongs, deftly avoiding glancing blows, the weapon reduced to a broken crook by the end.
And as Tamah stood, miraculously alive? The Barbarian was looking rough, and the ghosts could only take so much damage individually - it was the raw Action Economy of their numbers that made them dangerous. But our Cleric, still flying above, clinging to life after the attention had been drawn away from him, had a bird's eye view, realizing a perfect opportunity none of us had ever seen quite like this in our years of play.
All the active enemies had formed a perfect circle around Tamah.
Wall of Fire. Ringed around him, raining down like death-from-above.
Meaning Tamah had survived the impossible, trident raised over his head, wreathed in fire and ash as the others on the ground assumed he must be dead alongside the circled enemies newly scorched to a crisp - only to emerge from the flames when the fight was over, untouched, and grunting out the same mantra he'd always clung to: "I AM IMMORTAL!"
The rest of the fight made for the perfect conclusion to the arc - thanks to our Sorcerer dishing out AOE hurt at those that got too close to our Druid, the Druid had successfully kept that Revenant Monk bound up for pretty much the whole damn fight until she was the last enemy left. Concluding his personal journey? The Bard was the one to finally land the finishing blow on her, returned to dust, solidifying his drive to see her revived properly.
And from there? We never did wind up getting any confirmation as to whether Tamah was really an actual, literal demigod in the last arc to follow that fight - involving claiming our wishes and dealing with the fallout of unchaining a god, and fighting off the last surviving competitor in the race who'd been driven to abject competitive madness intent on killing the lot of us - but we all sure as hell believed it from then on. From there, I took two levels in Fighter, solidifying Tamah's character growth as now able to live up to his own hype and just as easily go toe-to-toe as fire off harpoons from afar...and with the lovely combo of Gloomstalker 5, Assassin 3, and Fighter 2, pairing Dread Ambusher and Action Surge for six attacks on the first round, all made at advantage and auto-crits on a Surprise Round from Assassinate, with Hunter's Mark on every shot and Sneak Attack? He sure as hell felt like he was dishing out some divine retribution, able to put out hundreds of damage in that first turn of combat when he managed to get the jump on his enemies, hitting like a one-man tidal wave.
But this fight, man - the would-be sacrifice moment when the Ranger-Rogue finally steps out of hiding, the miraculous survival where the lesson about arrogance and hubris is thrown aside for 'no, this is confidence, he really can live up to it', the 'helping the enemy up' callback, the strategic fighting from the whole party to just barely survival impossible odds with pitch-perfect coordination, the Wall of Fire...this was the moment my Ranger felt immortal.
And goddamn, to this day, still my favorite combat encounter. All because our DM needed someone to fill an empty character spot, and I'd re-specced a War Cleric into a Ranger on a dare that I could make a Ranger feel good. A perfect arc, a great example of marrying mechanics and character moments, and something I'm still grateful as hell to have been able to be a part of.