This was from a “professional” artist and not a meme YouTuber. Any help identifying the song is appreciated.

I have been on Vyvanse for quite a few years now, and have slowly upped the dose from I think 20mg to 40mg. I also take Bupropion.
The problem is that I haven’t really noticed any impact on my executive function skills. Other than schoolwork for my degree, I get nothing done. My room is an unholy mess, and so is my fish tank. I needed to call someone about something three weeks ago, and I still haven’t done it etc. It’s like the med isn’t working at all, and honesty I don’t have the sensation of it “kicking in” like most people. There’s not a noticeable effect other than some heart palpitations and irritability. I know it’s doing something, because my grades have improved, but otherwise I don’t think it is working at all. Is this normal and am I just lazy, or is something wrong?

• My NP is of no help as he doesn’t understand ADHD. He wants to give me a medical marijuana card to help with my focus, and he said that vyvanse is the generic for adderall, which is so blatantly incorrect it isn’t even funny.

Oh, hello! I didn’t see you there! Well, to be fair, you're behind a screen reading this right now, possibly thousands of miles (or kilometers) away from me. How would I have seen you? Okay, now that I got that stupid and cringy introduction out of the way, I can get to the heart of things.
I’m a 27-year-old medical student from the USA with aspirations of becoming a psychiatrist one day—though neurology is pretty cool too. Since I know people care about looks (myself included), here’s a picture of me: https://imgur.com/a/ljMhz9X. Yes, that’s a picture of me kissing a container of milk in the street. Why am I kissing a container of milk in the street? I guess you'll have to message me to find out ;)
I’ll try my best to give a brief synopsis about myself. I’m 6’2” (188 cm). Actually, I’m technically 6’1-⅞”. If you’re going to bust my chops over ⅛” (0.32 cm), be my guest. Personality-wise, I’m definitely more on the introverted side. I’d describe myself as a fairly typical dorky White guy. Like most guys my age, I like to play video games—I’ve been playing the semi-recently released Helldivers II. If you have Helldivers II, we could play together sometime! I love silly things; if you think this video is funny, I think we’d get along. I also have a deep fascination with psychology, especially abnormal psychology and evolutionary psychology. I actually majored in psychology back in college (university), and my interest in psychology is what propelled me into pursuing psychiatry as a career. I’m not interested in casual flings and want something serious. I’m totally open to a LDR if we can eventually work to close the gap. I've only ever had one (now ex-) girlfriend in my entire life, so I'm really not super experienced in the realm of dating.
Here are a few fun facts about me:

• I love spicy foods — I’ve had people from Sichuan (province in China known for its ridiculously spicy cuisine) tell me I have a high spice tolerance
• I can speak German decently well — Zugegeben, mein Deutsch ist ziemlich eingerostet :P
• I can touch the tip of my nose with my tongue — This was a big deal l back when I was like 7 years old, okay?
• Even though I have green eyes, I’m slightly red-green colorblind — Histology is the bane of my existence!
• I’m actually pretty good at cooking — I made some ayam masak merah (Malaysian/Singaporean spicy tomato chicken dish) yesterday. Not to toot my own horn, but it was pretty tasty.
• I don’t like coffee — I seriously don’t get all the hype surrounding coffee. People lose their minds over a drink that tastes like fancy, artisanal dirt. There’s also a plethora of other (oftentimes cheaper) ways to get caffeine, just sayin’ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
• The smallest country I’ve visited is Liechtenstein — It’s ˢᵒ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ

This is what I’m looking for:

• Someone who speaks English fluently or near-fluently — It doesn’t bother me at all if English isn’t your native language, as long as you speak it well. I actually think most non-native accents are cute.
• Someone who doesn’t have kids — I’m childfree and want someone who’s also childfree, though I'm open to having kids in the future.
• Someone who’s younger than or the same age as me — I’m open to 18-27, but I’d prefer someone who’s 20-25.
• Someone who doesn’t drink alcohol or do drugs — I don’t drink alcohol nor do drugs (including marijuana) and want somebody who doesn’t either. I suppose I’d be fine with someone who drinks occasionally/socially, but drugs are a dealbreaker for me.
• Someone who has a similar sense of humor — I’m pretty sarcastic and the kind of person who likes to tease people I’m close with. I also like it when people bust my chops (I can take it just as well as I dish it out). I just love good banter! All in good fun, of course.

Congratulations! You’ve officially slogged through this super long post. If I seem like a decent guy, please feel free to drop me a message and tell me your favorite dessert (mine is a cannoli)—this way I know you've read through my post. I’d also highly appreciate if you’d send a picture of yourself so that I can match a face to the chat. Hope to hear from you!

My sister-in-law named her daughter Ganjah, but spelled it “Gan’jah” so she feels that makes it not about marijuana anymore.
She pronounced this name as Ja-nye-jah.
It’s funny because now(since being with my brother) talks about how she could never give her kids “ghetto” names but there we go…
She gets so offended when people call her daughter Ganja lol

Use this thread to promote yourself and/or your work!
(Descriptions of fictional crimes investigated by the story's main Character Max.)
Detective's Fate
It's august of 2008.....
Max is a detective living in Chicago He checks his pistol and puts on his police badge as he walks out his front door.
He has been searching for a serial killer known as the Caller for years and always been one step behind due to the red tape.....
More importantly the chief's lazy attitude towards getting search warrants and actions approved by the courts for raids. Twice Max had good intel on the suspect's locations and photo evidence showing him at the sites.
The department needs more vigilant, caring officers and leaders but no one steps up to do it, instead they just complain about the slow progress and officers. And hinder investigations.
Now Max has decided that it might be time to stop playing by the rules and catch this scumbag.... .... ....
Starting his car Max sets his GPS to the address that "The Caller" was last seen and pulls out of his driveway as the 50 miles of directions pop up.
The killer's nickname being for his signature of calling in as he is committing the crime.
As he drives he remembers his first case, five years ago now..... ..... .....
A woman, Joane Taylor, was found dead in an alleyway after going out for the night. She showed no signs of struggle leading the police to believe she had drank to much and expired from alcohol poisoning.... ...
The death was written off as a "party gone wrong".... That is until several more were found and the coroner decided on a whim to test for other substances.
Once it came out that the deaths were possible murders...
The calls started coming in, almost like the suspect wanted credit before revealing himself....
Then ways of the deaths began changing as the Serial Killer explored his twisted desires searching for his preferred method.
The last case being a young woman found stuffed in a dumpster after the killer apparently got scared off.... Max will never forget it.... .... ....
The GPS finishes and the car beeps its final direction, taking an exit off the highway. Ramps out here are always confusing... Which is funny since he has driven this one for five years now...
The chief says he should sit this one out but he can't... The latest victim 3 months ago.
Marie Spelner, a waitress out on her smoke break talking to her spouse on the phone.
Survived by her husband, no children or living relatives. ....
Max Spelner turns into the driveway of the house he was directed to... Stepping out of the car he walks up and knocks on the door. Looking at the house he knows the family must be doing well if they live here.... Raising his hand to knock again he hears a scream from inside....
A second later the door is answered by a middle aged butler holding a tray with wine glasses on it... "Hello Sir, I'm sorry but this house does not wish to partake in any offers at this time..."
Max calmly says. "I'm not selling anything."
The butler looks confused for a moment before his eyes dart over Max's shoulder seeing his unmarked cruiser and he nods.
Looking past the butler Max sees that a woman is cleaning up after their dog.
"Have you seen this man?" Says Max holds up a picture of the one suspected of being the killer.
The butler gives it a once over before replying. "I'm sorry sir, no I have not." His tone sounds like he is lying... ....
"Are you sure?" The detective asks.
"I would not lie about something like that, sir." He states, his eyes not meeting Max's.
The woman calls from inside "Fletcher, who are you talking too?"
"Some man asking about a killer" he calls back.
"The killer is an inside job!" The woman quickly states.
"What?!" Max says.
"The Killer, it's an inside job." She says again, louder this time. In the same Max also hears a child begin to cry in another room.
"We should start from the beginning, it will be easier to explain trust me." The woman says.
'She seems to know what is going on....
"How do I know your story holds water?" He asks out loud.
"Oh I wouldn't lie. I have been following the case myself and it seems like an inside job to me." She states, somehow sounding hurt.
"Is there anyone else in the house besides you two and the baby?" He asks noticing the baby isn't crying anymore.
"Just Fletcher and I live here, the baby is my cousins but he just stays the night sometimes." She replies.
Max draws his gun and enters the house upon reasonable suspicion of an emergency in progress or suspect on the premisses as the man seems to be deceiving.
While the woman still seems unconcerned that the child is now silent.
He pushes past the butler and rushes towards the area he heard the crying. passes the entryway, the dinning room, and a kitchen before finally finding a child in a playpen.
"There there..." He says in a sing song voice picking up the child. "I'm officer Max, do you know where your mommy is?"
The child just cries louder.
Then he sees the man from the photo walk out of the bathroom, upon seeing him he bolts for the door and Max sets the child down gently then gives chase.
He runs through the house, following the man as he can hear the woman screaming at him to stop but he doesn't."
"Stop or I'll shoot." The man doesn't even break stride.
Instead he runs out of the front door and jumps into his car.
Furious that the man might escape he fires at the car as it drives away.
The back window shatters and he hopes he got his tire, but he doesn't wait to find out as he runs to his car and initiates a pursuit....
He flips on his concealed lights in his cruiser as he reverses down the drive and into the street.
The suspects car is fast but he manages to keep up with it weaving in and out of traffic as people move over for the siren.
As they approach a red light there is heavy traffic in the intersection..... ....
The suspect slams on his brakes and Max's cruiser only just stops short of hitting it. Jumping out the Detective points his firearm at the vehicle running up beside seeing heavily tinted windows.
"Get out of the car and on the ground now!!" He shouts as he moves to the driver's side door.
After seeing no response....
Max throws open the door and the driver is gone with the passenger side open.
He quickly runs to the other side catching the man trying to sneak off tackling him to the ground and then takes his arms putting them behind his back.
Max grabs his radio and calls it in as the man cries.
As he is waiting he hears a noise that sounds like static.....
"Wrong guy moron.. Did you ever stop to think I wanted you close for this one. That I planned everything...Even framing the pothead..... I almost lost interest until you pulled in the driveway... The attic is kinda cramped tho... I think I'll go carve some meat. Maybe graduate to other things to. I'm not sure yet. Lets see if you can catch me before......" A familiar voice says over the radio then cuts off... ...
Max looks at the man on the ground. "Why did you run from me?" He asks.
"Cause I have like 19 grams of marijuana in my pocket." He replies...
"Do you know how stupid that is?! I don't care about that I'm looking for a killer."
Before he can answer Max hears the woman from the house screaming for her life and a child's cries on his radio.
Then from below Max. "He's in the house, he's in the house! My mom and the baby!" The man on the ground says crying.
Max uncuffs him and runs to his car heading back to the house as he lays down rubber on the road... ... ...
As he approaches and pulls into the driveway he notices the front door is open.
"Hold on I'm coming!" Max screams jumping out of his cruiser...
He runs into the house finding the woman's body arriving too late. Moving over to her he checks for a pulse but she is gone, a large gash in her neck.
As he stands up he slips in a fluid but gains his balance and tries not to think about what it is....
He rushes to the room the baby was in finding the play pen empty. He leaves the room searching the rest of the house and still doesn't find the child.
"Where are you!!!" He calls out....
"This is the Callers first kidnapping and the media would eat up the fact I failed to stop the man." He thinks as he blames himself.
Sirens begin to blare in the distance as backup is about to arrive... ... ...
"There's a woman dead and a baby missing! The woman is in the dinning room straight ahead of the front door, Hurry!" He yells into his radio...
Looking over at the mother seeing a piece of paper on the floor.
He walks over to it seeing writing.
"So close... Looks like I'm a kidnapper now.... Good luck finding me.... And... I so enjoyed killing that sweet wife of yours. Might do it that way again. Not to the kid tho....later Max. Ps. This game is so fun.." It says.
"He was here..." Is all he can muster as the team enters.
"He was right in this house and I missed it because her son freaked over weed and ran..." He says as another officer speaks to him gently.
"Don't beat yourself up Detective, it's not your fault. He must have hid before you got her and left after you arrived." The words do little to comfort him "First day back on the job and the killer escaped taking a child..." He says as he walks away.
The chief arrives in his new lexus with a screeching of rubber as he lurches to a halt.
He quickly exits and leaves his door hanging open as he rushes into Max's face....
"I told you to stay away from this case MAX!!!!....(takes a breath)...
"If I catch any flak from my superiors, I won't suspend you.... That'd be to easy. Desk duty and an entry level demotion. The new guy will have a higher rank than you if things go my way.... Now get outta my sight...". "(Sighs)...
"This job is gonna be the death of me..." He says walking away from Max and towards the Coroner's van..... ..... .....
On the way home the detective stops by the store close to his house which is unlike him because he usually follows the same routine.
He nears the front door and he hears a kitchen timer ding loudly from behind him as his car explodes throwing him through the storefront windows as they are blown out..... .....
Alarms around the lot and others nearby create a cacophony of noise. His head pounding as his body aches, Max pushes himself up and collapses as the store manager runs over to him telling him not to move as he dials 911.... .... ....
Waking in the hospital Max recalls the feeling of the Shockwave as he flinches in phantom pain.
"Who woulda thought its like holding a ringing metal bat that hurts your hands but all over and way more intense." He thinks.
He suddenly feels tired and falls asleep.... .... .... ....
The next time he wakes, he sees a breaking news story that Jane Saltani is reporting on....
"Young toddler Accidently Shoots Serial killekidnapper ending his life and Alerting residents in the Area." The news anchor says.
Sighing to himself Max thinks about how crazy that is and laughs.
Tho he really wanted to bring the guy in. He closes his eyes to get some much needed sleep as his door opens.
Max looks up to see a man with a silenced pistol pointed at him.
"Hm. Now they think I'm dead. Funny how they just assume they got the right guy. Just like.... You did Detect... ....." Max hears but then hears no more as his end comes at just over the speed of sound....
The Caller leaves the hair of another intelligent convicted murderer that he obtained in a spot that's believable and quickly leaves.....
He disables the surveillance system and sends a virus out to any device that has received video data from the hospital.
Erasing and corrupting the systems. Leaving a master hackers finger prints on a glass from his home....
"Sorry, no witnesses." He says to the security guard as he fires... ..... ..... .... ....

Episode 1: Oh god no, my marijuana patch! (Farmer)
Episode 2:We here at team four star do not condone child violence. We do however find it hilarious.(Kaiser)
Episode 3: Mahogany! (King Yemma)
Episode 4: Alright Maggots listen up! Popo's 'bout to teach you the pecking order. It goes you, the dirt, the worms inside of the dirt, Popo's stool, Kami, then Popo. (Popo)
Episode 5: DODGE! (Piccolo)
Episode 6: I’ll tell you where they’re not, safe! (Popo)
Episode 7: I’m not a Pokémon! I’m Chiaotzu! CHIAOTZU! (Chiaotzu)
Episode 8: “Vegeta! I can fly” (Nappa)
Episode 9: "9 minutes and 18 seconds" (Vegeta)
Episode 10: “What’s the opposite of Christopher Walken? CHRISTOPHER REEVES!" (Vegeta)
Episode 11: “Yep, this baby gets 10,000 miles to the soul.” (Popo)
Episode 12: "No! What are you:stupid? We are doctors, scientists! Now inject this man with some SCIENCE! Delicious, magical SCIENCE!" (Some Freeza Grunt)
Episode 13: "Could you speak up? I'm not wearing any pants" (Roshi)
Episode 14: "QUACK!" (The Space-Duck)
Episode 15: "Muffin Button" (Goku)
Episode 16: Face down with another man beating your ass. Is it Wednesday already, Zarbon? (Vegeta)
Episode 17: I'm coming Zarbon! Quick, grab my balls!
Episode 18: " I don't know. Maybe you could've bitched at him, how 'bout that? That's all you appear to be good for these days. Huh? Used your bitch-fu on him? Bulma the mistress of bitching, that's what they should call you. Seriously, five ancient sages of bitchdom all gathered together one day on the peaks of Mount Bitch to proclaim your birth. And a hundred years later, when all the bitch stars had aligned, you were born and made everybody's life around you a living hell because you are such a bitch!" (Krillin)
Episode 19: "Son of a gum-chewing funk-monster! Why the fruit does all this funny stuff happen to me?! Forget my life! Always surrounded by miserable failing clods! Like this whole world just likes to *bend* me over and FIND ME IN THE ALPS! Like I'm some sort of shlock receptacle! Well as far as I care, these miserable cows can have a fancy barbecue with a goddamn pig!!" (Vegeta)
Episode 20: "BECAUSE THE NAME'S RECCOOME! IT RHYMES WITH DOOM! AND YOU'RRRRRE GONNA BE HURTING ALL TOO SOON!!! (Reccoome)
Episode 21: I can't believe we came all the way out here and spent a week in the Space Boonies for nothing! Seriously, I'm surprised we didn't hear banjos on the way, because everyone is inbred and LOOKS THE F***ING SAME! Not to mention I lost Dodoria and Zarbon, the latter of whom spent 400 credits making long-distance calls to his girlfriend, WHO I AM CONVINCED IS NAMED CHUCK! (Freeza)
Episode 22: Did you tell him to work the shaft? (Super Kami Guru)
Episode 23: This is easily the 2nd worse hole I’ve ever had in my chest. It’s gonna take like, a million mommy kisses to make it better. (Goku).
Episode 24: "Oh ho ho ho no, don't mind me. By all means, g̶̢͘í̸͖̈̕͝v̶̢̹͠ͅe̸̮͆̋̽ ̷͙͔͙̲̏͛ḿ̸̨̲̦̤͒͑ẹ̴̜͚̰̉̂ ̵̩͈͍̯̠́͂s̷̝͓͍̑o̷̢̲͙̅̍̐̔͠m̷͔̂e̸̪͊̂̐̕͠ͅ ̵̛̱̣̣̱̎̅i̶̍̒͂ͅd̶̡̲̟̔̉̏ȩ̸̙̭̺̑̊̃͠ä̸̧̱́̅s̴̙͚̯̯̩̾." (Freeza)
Episode 25: "Oh good. I'll stop by there on the way home. Pick up some space eggs, some space milk, and BLOW IT THE F*** UP! Oh, I'm sorry, I'm usually far more composed. I'm just a little bit A B S O L U T E L Y L I V I D." (Freeza)
Episode 26: “That’s right, I’m your White Mage, & Nobody fucks with the White Mage” (Little Green)
Episode 27: " Imma deck ya in the schnozz!" (Goku)
Episode 28: “Good Lord I traded Vegeta for this” (Freeza)
Episode 29: Oh, come now. If I'm really as evil as you say I am, then let God strike me down where I stand. *lightning zaps* HA! Nice try, jackass! Next time, give it your A-game! (Freeza),
Episode 30: “I am the hope of the omniverse! I am the light bulb in the darkness! I am the bacon in the fridge for all the living things that cry out in hunger! I am the Alpha and the Amiga! I am the terror that flaps in the night! (starts powering up) I am Son Gokū! and I am a Super (Death beam to forehead) Saiyan” (Goku)
Episode 31: "Why aren't you upstairs sleeping with your girlfriend like everyone else?" (Turtle)

I have an irate upstairs neighbour who is making my life hell. I don't have money at the moment to buy a security camera but will get one as soon as I can. I am also forced to put up privacy film on my windows because of this neighbour coming around my back patio. They have come to my back patio several times and vandalized it. Their footprints are obvious, I have been documenting the siutation and have a folder of pictures of each act of vandalism. I also have dates of all the incidents logged. It started in October 2022. I accidentally left my door unlocked. I woke up in the night and heard the sound of a knife cutting into something. I went back to sleep, woke up in the morning and found some of my food missing, including most of my freshly made pumpkin pie. My family are not the sort of people to steal food from each other. So I know it wasn't them. That same day I saw my neighbour outside offering someone a tin plate of pie as I was going out to the dumpster to take my trash out. It was an unnerving coincidence that left me suspicious. In November, I cracked my back pation window open because I am a hot sleeper and like the cool autumn air. I woke up at 7 am to my bedroom absolutely choked with weed stench. I went outside, and saw a small pile of something dark burning in the dirt and mulch of the garden plot beside my patio. I had to air my bedroom out and wash all my bedding and clothes. Lost sleep, was exhausted and shaken. A few days later we got a light snowfall, and the neighbour walked over and left an empty tube of medical marijuana in the same spot where the burning patch was. Their footprints were obvious in the snow.
I've opened my blinds to find the windows I'd just cleaned not long ago splattered in dried out dirty water and had to rewash my windows. My patio has a constant wet patch that never dries. My rain spout in the front has been severed like someone kicked it away. I've found small piles of blond hair left on my patio (not sure if real or fake doll hair but it's creepy). And there's piles and piles of leaves on my patio I can never get rid of and these leaves do not build up on anyone else's patio. The moment I sweep and rake them, a new pile is in its place the next morning, and not like the wind blew it, but like someone put it there neatly. I am burnt out and have temporarily given up, so now my patio is heaped with leaves and it makes me so depressed. I just want to be able to be out on my back patio to relax once in a while, and had dreams of decorating it, but it is impossible, it's not even my space at this point. My patio stinks of weed all the time now even though I don't smoke weed, I have edibles sometimes but that's about it. It's like someone else is out on my patio having a joint while I'm not around. I'm sorry to anyone here who likes weed, I swear it's nothing against that, weed is fine, it's this person who is invading my personal space.
I know who the person is because they have yelled it to me from upstairs along with all kinds of abuse. They say taunting things like "Do you hear that b&tch?" They have yelled a few times telling me to die. They came to my door on Nov 1st 2023 this autumn, banged and jiggled the doorknob and said in a creepy voice "My precious girl", at about 9 pm. Scared the fck out of me. This I suspect was meant to be a joke about my grandma because I live where my grandma used to live - she passed away in 2019 - and this neighbour knows about that because I told her when she made small talk with me once way back before I had any idea she was unhinged. :(
They flip their sht if I do anything that causes any bit of noise, yell at me to shut up and die if I talk to myself which I do sometimes but hardly at all now and if I do it's in a quiet voice. Then if I see them in person they pretend to be nice and charming and it deeply unsettles me. :( They also will randomly drop big hints when they loudly talk with other people. Last week this lady came up to our older male neighbour and said to him "You know what I like about you? You could never commit a crime because a)They'd think it's funny and b) You're identifiable."
I'm at a point where this is badly impacting my mental health. Everyday is 10/10 distress. Not anxiety, not unease. My brain is in full on, silent screaming mode. I find myself paralyzed for long periods of time with anxiety about making noises like just walking across the room. I do these mental gymnastics on how I could reduce the amount of abuse I recieve from this neighbour - for example - I determined I can reduce the amount of yelling and banging I get from her if I do my chores at night right after I brush and floss my teeth, then go straight to bed, this way I can get away from her by sleeping. Only problem is the fear of making noise sometimes leads to me putting everything off or not getting any chores done, so now my space goes for days at a time accumulating messes and it is making me even more depressed cause I don't want to live this way. This is horrible and causing so much pain. I also have double checked with myself and concluded I do not have psychosis. I don't have any symptoms that align with this, my audio recordings are also proof to back me up that my experiences are real. If it's late and I'm really tired I might see or hear stuff but I know this is just from being overtired.
I resist everyday to engage and yell back at her or them since doing so would cause legal complications if it ever gets to that point where this becomes a case. My only solution to this is catching them vandalizing my property on video, so I am going to save up for a security camera or trail camera and hopefully something will come of it.

It was always me versus the world Until I found it's me versus me Why, why, why, why? Why, why, why, why? Just remember, what happens on Earth stays on Earth! We gon' put it in reverse
Darling, I told you many times And I am telling you once again Just to remind you, sweetheart That my-
Oh, Lamar, Hail Mary and marijuana, times is hard Pray with the hooligans, shadows all in the dark Fellowship with demons and relatives, I'm a star Life is one funny mo'fucker A true comedian, you gotta love him, you gotta trust him I might be buggin', infomercials and no sleep Introverted by my thoughts; children, listen, it gets deep
See, once upon a time inside the Nickerson Garden projects The object was to process and digest poverty's dialect Adaptation inevitable, gun violence, crack spot Federal policies raid buildings and drug professionals Anthony was the oldest of seven Well-respected, calm and collected Laughin' and jokin' made life easier, hard times, Momma on crack A four-year-old tellin' his nanny he needed her
His family history, pimpin' and bangin' He was meant to be dangerous Clocked him a grip and start slangin' 15, scrapin' up his jeans with quarter pieces Even got some head from a smoker last weekend Dodged a policeman, workin' for his big homie Small-time hustler, graduated to a brick on him 10, 000 dollars out of a project housing, that's on the daily Seen his first mill' 20 years old, had a couple of babies
Had a couple of shooters Caught a murder case, fingerprints on the gun they assumin' But witnesses couldn't prove it That was back when he turned his back and they killed his cousin He beat the case and went back to hustlin' Bird-shufflin', Anthony rang The first in the projects with the two-tone Mustang That 5.0 thing, they say 5-0 came Circlin' parking lots and parking spots And hoppin' out while harrassin' the corner blocks
Crooked cops told Anthony he should kick it He brushed 'em off and walked back to the Kentucky Fried Chicken See, at this chicken spot There was a light-skinned nigga that talked a lot With a curly top and a gap in his teeth He worked the window, his name was Ducky He came from the streets, the Robert Taylor Homes Southside Projects, Chiraq, the Terror Dome Drove to California with a woman on him and 500 dollars
They had a son, hopin' that he'd see college Hustlin' on the side with a nine-to-five to freak it Cadillac Seville, he'd ride his son around on weekends Three-piece special with his name on the shirt pocket 'Cross the street from the projects, Anthony planned to rob it Stuck up the place before, back in '84 That's when affiliation was really eight gears of war So many relatives tellin' us, sellin' us devilish works Killin' us, crime, intelligent, felonious Prevalent proposition with 9's
Ducky was well-aware They robbed the manager and shot a customer last year He figured he'd get on these niggas' good sides Free chicken every time Anthony posted in line Two extra biscuits, Anthony liked him and then let him slide They didn't kill him, in fact, it look like they're the last to survive Pay attention, that one decision changed both of they lives One curse at a time
Reverse the manifest and good karma, and I'll tell you why You take two strangers and put 'em in random predicaments Give 'em a soul so they can make their own choices and live with it 20 years later, them same strangers, you make 'em meet again Inside recording studios where they reapin' their benefits Then you start remindin' them about that chicken incident Whoever thought the greatest rapper would be from coincidence? Because if Anthony killed Ducky, Top Dawg could be servin' life While I grew up without a father and die in a gunfight
So, I was takin' a walk the other day

V was completely and utterly awe-struck by the sheer number of exotic cars parked in the garage as the lights came on one after the other. Rolls Royce, Ferraris, Lamborghinis, Aston Martins. They all clamored out of the Bentley, V taking slightly longer due to the Brit-Pole being more focused on the absolutely stunning cars in the garage instead of getting out of the car.

“Cars caught your eye, huh?” J asked, her voice lacking that taunting edge she had while she spoke with N, who was already making his way across the ceramic floor and out the garage door, into the manor without as much as a word. J’s Austrian-accented words were laced with genuineness, as she chuckled slightly. “You’ll get used to it.”

So the group made their way out of the garage and into the manor, and holy shit was this place huge.

The interior itself was something to marvel at on its own. The sleek lines, minimalist design elements, , it was a perfect mix of sophistication and sleekness. V was utterly starstruck at the glitz and glamor of it all. It was like stepping into a world that seemed all closed off just yesterday, something she could only glance at through YouTube videos and vlogs. A silver chandelier hung from a double-height ceiling. Two staircases akin to that of the Titanic’s grand staircase swept upwards to the upper floors. The glass railings shimmered under the chandelier’s light, and the marble floor below could damn well have been one gigantic mirror.

Under the right staircase, V caught a slight glimpse of a floor-to-ceiling window that allowed for a breathtaking view of the cityscape right before the sounds of footsteps filled the air. N and J both seemed to stop exchanging death glares and immediately turn their optics to the middle-aged woman slowly walking down the staircase, her eyes surveying every person there.

“James,” She began, her voice eerily soft and honeyed. The driver’s head raised up to meet the woman’s, a weary expression on his face as he mumbled a slight “Yeah, Louisa?” He walked over to the nearby coat hanger, taking off his coat and neatly hanging it before shuffling up the steps towards the bedrooms without waiting for a reply. The woman’s gaze fell to V, and the Brit saw Tessa’s expression go from a moderately jovial one to that of pity. She had far too much makeup on, particularly that of eyelash makeup, and she had noticeable bags under her eyes. She was gothically dressed in an all-black dress and hat.

‘Rather.... Stylish home clothes.’ V thought to herself.

Her eyes sharpened and narrowed, and her expression changed from one of neutrality, to one befitting of a rich woman's anger. Her face contorted in anger as she stared V down, before tearing her gaze away and fixating it on Tessa.

“Tessa James Elliot.” Louisa’s grip on the rail tightened as she loudly stated Tessa's name. Her voice did not raise nor lower, but the anger evident in her words made even N wince. J, however, was frozen in place, daring not to move a muscle. “N, J. You were supposed to pick up our cargo, and leave. Instead, along with our ordered cargo, you bring in another drone. How many times must I stress this to you three?”

She took one step down.

“We,”

Another step. V glanced over to N, who was now noticeably tense.

“Are,”

Another.

“No charity. We are not a homeless shelter. We are a prestigious family of humans that produce weaponry, and various other sciences for human use.” She said, emphasizing the word human while glaring at the three drones, as if they had never truly belonged. “As for you, Tessa,”

She descended the steps, walking past the three drones and towards the taken aback human. V turned around slightly, curiosity getting the better of her as she looked on. Louisa towered over Tessa, and she bent down to whisper something in Tessa's ear that made her freeze. J glared at the back of Louisa’s head, her fist clenched. N, on the other hand, quickly and quietly sneaked up the stairs, eager not to get caught up in what was happening.

‘Fuckin' hell, she's tall.’ V thought, inwardly laughing at her height. She must've been at least 5’11, and most of the doorways she had seen were low. Her child mind immediately went to work, drawing up countless instances of the woman bumping her head on low doorways.

She slowly slinked around Tessa with the deadly grace of a cobra, before strutting off into one of the rooms. Tessa lost her tense form, breathing a sigh of relief, though she looked incredibly shaken. J relaxed, looking at Tessa with a hint of solemnity.

“You okay?” She asked, quickly rushing to the human's side. J’s voice was laced with concern as she rubbed her friend’s back as the smell of cannabis and tobacco filled the air, and Tupac’s faint rapping coming from upstairs. J told Tessa something V couldn’t hear, but the overwhelming stench caused V to cover her face with her sweater as best she could. N growled in annoyance, looking over to V and gesturing upstairs. “Yeah, that’s Cyn. You’ll meet ‘er later. She’s a smoker, you’ll get used to the smell.”

“I could really go for a drink right now.” N mumbled, rubbing his temples and walking up the stairs, leaving V completely shocked at his words. He looked like he could be at least her age, and he was mumbling about wanting to drink alcohol?! V shook her head, trying to push that thought away. He could've meant anything by saying drink.

‘Don't overthink this, V.’ Taking two breaths, and rolling her shoulders in a vain attempt to calm herself down, and trying her best to ignore the frankly nauseating stench of cannabis that clung to her clothes as she walked away, wandering the house in an attempt to get familiar with her new home.

“We can talk about this over a drink, right?” J said, her voice soothing and below a whisper as she continued to rub Tessa’s back. Beading tears in Tessa’s eyes threatened to spill over before she quickly wiped them away. Tessa took two quick, sharp breaths before she relaxed and shook her head.

“Gotta check on Cyn. Make sure she isn't too high.” Tessa broke into a short but hollow chuckle before lightly pushing past J and proceeding up the stairs. The more steps Tessa trudged up, the louder the music was. The music itself wasn't abrasively loud, but it was very noticeable. Cyn must've turned up the music after Louisa left. Not that she would've cared that Louisa was upstairs in the first place. Cyn had a track record of being one of those no-fucks-given type of people, and it was probably the reason why Tessa and Cyn got along so well.

The closer Tessa got to her room, the more of the song she could hear. It wasn't obnoxiously loud, not yet at least. But the overwhelming smell of cannabis made her cover her nose in her sleeve and almost gag. Jesus, how much did Cyn smoke?! This is overdoing it, even for her. Trying to wave away the smell, she proceeded forward, suppressing another gag.

The feds is watchin', they all plottin' to get me, will I survive? Will I die? C'mon, let's picture the possibilities, givin' me charges, lawyers makin' a grip, I told the judge I was raised wrong and that's why I blaze shit. Was hyper as a kid, cold as a teenager, On my mobile, callin' big shots on the scene major, packin' hundreds in my drawers, fuck the law…

Tessa knocked on the walnut door twice, trying in vain to suppress another gag. “Oi, Cyn.” The music seemed to grow louder the moment Tessa called her name. And accompanying that, the Aussie girl could barely hear a muffled groan of irritation.

Say money bring bitches, bitches bring lies, one fucker gettin' jealous and motherfuckers died, depend on me like the first and fifteenth, they might hold me for a second, but these punks won't get me. We got fo’ brothas’, in low riders, in ski masks, screamin' “Thug Life” every time they pass, all eyes on me…

Rolling her eyes and sighing in annoyance, Tessa opened the door slightly. To the left was Cyn, sitting on the plush bed, a cigarette trapped between her fingers. Her optics were hollowed, and she slightly waved back and forth, a sign that she was most likely as high as a kite. The various other high quality furnishings were clean and kept in an orderly manner, a stark contrast to Cyn’s incredibly messy bed.

Relax and take notes, while I take tokes of the marijuana smoke, throw you in a choke—gunsmoke, gunsmoke! Biggie Smalls for mayor, the rap slayer, the hooker layer, motherfucker, say your prayers! Hail Mary, full of grace, smack the bitch in the face, take her Gucci bag and the North Face off her back, jab her if she act, funny with the money oh, you got me mistaken, honey…

Cyn's neon yellow eyes met Tessa's brown orbs, the drone quirking an eyebrow as she took another drag. “Hm?” Cyn slightly shifted in the hoodie she was wearing, exhaling the smoke into the already smoke-filled room. The edge of one of Cyn’s twin tails peeked out of the hood she was wearing. It nested comfortably in her neck, slightly drooping down to her upper chest. It had a slight braid to it, akin to what a Jedi Padawan would sport. Tessa sighed and dramatically rolled her eyes in a mix of irritation and a growing sense of concern.


“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Six.”

“Okay, now how many?”

“Eight.”

“Okay, you're not overly stoned.” Tessa muttered, stepping into the room and sitting down with Cyn. The stench of weed clung to her clothes, the bedsheets, and the music player next to the large mirror on the dresser. “You got a spare or…?”

“No. This is my last one. J smoked off most of them, being the consistent smoker that she is. Unless you are keen on sharing saliva, you are out of luck, Tessa.” She said, expecting a refusal from the Aussie girl. Her hollowed-out neon-yellow ovals distorted slightly as she once again took another drag, almost disappearing entirely before stabilizing. And like the drone had expected, Tessa shook her head in reply, not making any eye contact with her drone friend.

“I swear, you two are going to kill yourselves someday. Either the cancer sticks’ll send you down six feet, or ya’ll both will piss someone off while you’re as high as a kite, and you both get killed. Wouldn’t put the second one past J, though. You?” Tessa’s brown eyes met Cyn’s hollowed-out neon yellow optics as the question hung in the air for what seemed like a century.

“Yeah. She can be… Too direct at times.” Cyn replied, her gaze falling down to her legs dangling off of the edge of the bed, lost in thought. Her face changed from one of weed-induced relaxation to a more pained expression, though the expression quickly faded away, replaced by a forced smirk. “I….” She paused, as if to gather her thoughts. “Well, N keeps her in check. I doubt he would care if J expires one day.”

“I’m surprised you can speak this normally.” Tessa quipped, laying back on the bed, the smell of weed clinging to her whole body. Cyn, on the other hand, remained on the edge of the bed, taking another drag before flicking the cig away.

“Fuck that s’posed to mean?” The drone replied, shooting a playful side eye glare toward the human, who only shrugged in response, letting her hood fall back, revealing the rest of her silver twin tails. They were much slimmer than J’s, and they lacked the curls that the Austrian had, setting the two apart. “It is what’cha make of it, mate.”

The sound of two cars screeching to a halt in front of their home made both ladies look to the open window from the bed. The first one was a ‘54 Impala, Tessa knew the car by the sound of its engine, as she had heard it far too many times to count. It had to be an Impala. Hell, it was the generic gangster vehicle. What the hell were they doing here, though? Normally, they'd be out in the city shooting some poor bastard dead because they didn't pay on time, or holding up a rich kid that went off too far. The drill rap playing on the radio of the Impala loud enough for Cyn and Tessa to hear faintly. The other was a ‘57 BMW i4, the soft hum of its electric motor being overtaken by the rumble of the Impala’s engine. Their headlights lit up a portion of the road as they rolled down towards the house.

“Tessa,” Cyn said, her monotone and usually emotionless voice laced with a concern Tessa never knew she could display as she snapped her fingers at the Aussie twice, making the teen straighten up quicker than she’d ever done, concern written all over her face. “Do you have a weapon by any chance? A ranged one, preferably?”

“N-no, why?” She replied, her voice growing more and more concerned. The headlights of the cars once again glowed to life as they began to move, circling around the house like vultures surveying their prey. Cyn jumped off the edge of the bed with a quickness that could only be compared to a child trying to avoid a belting, straightening herself up as best she could from her usual slouched position. Tessa could tell that it probably hurt like hell, given the occasional wince and twitch of Cyn's optics, but she fought through it, like she always had. It was the only thing she knew how to do anyways: Fight, fight, fight. Hard to break offa’ something one grows up doing.

“Hell,” Tessa drawled, trying to suppress another gag by covering her mouth with her sleeve, despite the noise still escaping her lips. “This weed smell’s killing me. You sure you're not just high off your ass and seein’ things? Last time you got this high, you held up one of the rich kids on our block while he was on a late-night drive. If your nerves need this much steadying…” Tessa trailed off after she neared to the edge of the bed, and heard the rumble of the car engine slowly fading away.




The cool air almost calmed N and steadied his frayed nerves as he stepped into the dark cellar, flipping on the lights as the smell of various liquors filled the air. N stopped a moment to roll his shoulders, closing his optics and letting the combined sensations of the cold air and the smell of liquor wash over him before he continued.

N brushed his hand on a wooden pillar next to the open doorway before walking over to a neat set of brandy elegantly positioned on the various barrels full of liquors, he casually took one of the bottles of Hennessy from the set, pulling off the cork with no effort. The smell wafted out of the open bottle, flooding into N’s sensory receptors. It was a welcome smell, and one that N had grown accustomed to smelling, even though it gave him a burning feeling if he were to stick his head down to the top of the bottle. N took a swig, gulping down the brownish liquid without as much as a hitch. The phantom taste of vanilla and oak lingered on his tongue as he once again took another swig. He stuffed his hand in his pocket, brushing against a hand-rolled cigarette. A small smirk crosses his face.

“Well, someone's been trinken ihr Leben weg.” (Well, someone's been drinking their life away.) A voice N knew all too well echoed off the quiet walls of the cellar, and instantly wiped that smirk away. N once again gulped down the brown liquid before turning to the pigtailed drone leaning on the very wooden pillar beside the doorway, a smug smirk on her face as she watched the Canadian put the cork back on the drink and put it back as neatly as possible.

They made eye contact. “What do you want?” He asked, his tone exasperated and almost resigned as J just lightly chuckled in response. N raised an eyebrow, irritation written all over him as the Austrian continued. “How many times have I caught you drinking? Ten? Nineteen? No, forty times over?” N’s eyes narrowed as she cockily listed the times she had caught him drinking. “An eleven year old really shouldn't be drinking, much less a drone. What would that say about them? Gott weiß, Louisa würde doch nicht wollen, dass ein Straftäter im Haus herumläuft, oder? You know the risks, N. And we got a newbie runnin' around. Feel bad for her. We found 'er at a cargo ship, so she probably got sold off. Poor girl." J's tone changed from a cocky one to a more somber one as she tore her gaze away from N, instead finding the concrete very interesting. An almost pained look crosses her features for a moment, but before N could get a glimpse of it, it was wiped away.

(God knows Louisa wouldn't want a delinquent running around the house, now would she?)

“Don't you try to baby me, J.” Now it was J’s turn to bear an irritated expression, as her optics snapped back to meet N's. “Do I have to bring up all of the times I've caught you smoking half the world's supply of weed? Or the times where you've come home pockets lined after wiping some poor bastard’s nose for their valuables, so you can stock them up in your room like fucking trophies? You're not as innocent and impenetrable as you think you are, J.”

J’s only response was a dead silence and a death glare. N only sneered in response. “What's the matter? Got nothin’ to say? No snappy comeback?”

“She's going to know you've gone and downed some again. I mean, look at the thing, it's already at half.” She said, gesturing to the bottle, which was now at half. “She's never caught me smoking once in my life, and I'm her favorite child by far. Who will she believe? Me, or you? After all, you have the largest track record of drinking your pains away second only to Cyn.” She continued, rummaging through her pockets for her cigarette.

N held up a hand-rolled cigarette, a wry grin on his face as he presented it to the shocked drone. “Missing something?” He said in a condescending voice, watching as J’s expression morphed from a slightly irritated one to one of pure shock. “I wonder what Lousia’ll think if she finds this in your room. Nobody here's that much of a perfectionist to hand-roll a cigarette, besides a certain girl standing right in front-a’ me.”

The sound of tires on pavement broke their little spat.
Author's Ramblings: SIBLING FIGHT!!!!
I AM SO SORRY! I WAS SO LATE ON THIS! SCHOOL, AND OTHER STUFF HAMPERED ME FROM PUSHING THIS OUT ON TIME! I AM SO, SO FUCKING SORRY! I'll try to post more often, but until then, I'll catch ya'll later.

Brace yourself this is long.
I'm a 34yo male, been drinking mostly beer and some tequila for about 11 years with no issues. Smoked weed for 10 years with no issues.
So 2 months ago I drank a 6 pack and 2 shots of mezcal in a span of 8 hours. Ate twice in that time and drank plenty of water plus Pedialyte.
I woke up later that night or technically it was now the next day around 6am not feeling well just didn't feel right.
Then my heart started beating really fast for no reason, started freaking out checked my BP and it was 145/80 with 110bpm (I know this isn't high, I normal have 100/70 with 40-60bpm) so I called 911 and the EMTs said they could take me in but they said I was mostly okay and my BP had regulated by now all was good other than the fact my HR was fluctuating from 60-100bmp. Never the less they calmed me down and I went back inside thinking everything would be fine.
A few min later I tried to have a BM and my heart starting beating fast again! So I ended up taking myself to the hospital after all. I would have had my wife take me but I didn't want to put her through the trouble of loading up both the kids (3yo) (11mo). So I went in and told them my symptoms because by this time I was feeling funny on the left side of my body. My face. My arm. Fast heart rate! I was feeling like I was going to die at any minute or have a stroke.
They took me inside a room and ran my vitals. Tested my urine for drugs. But I haven't smoked in a year and never did anything else besides marijuana or alcohol so everything came back negative.
They took my blood and ran it for signs of a stroke. My levels for troponin did come back a little higher than normal. So they did advise me to schedule an appointment with a cardiologist. So I did.
2 days later I was at the cardiologist and they checked my heart on a EKG. He listened to it with his stethoscope. He said everything sounded normal. Other than my heart being a little slower. He did mention that some ppl who are physically active run on slower heart rates. (I happen to jog regularly about 3-4 nights a week) So that made sense. So we proceeded to make appointments for further tests to investigate what was going on.
I scheduled a stress test, a calcium score test, an ultrasound and I wore a heart monitor for 24 hours.
It was grueling waiting for all the results to come back and waiting to speak to the doctor about all the final test results. And obviously I quit drinking for that entire time. Finally about a month later I finally had my appointment with the Doctor to go over all the results. He concluded that everything came back normal. I am healthy and there is nothing wrong with my heart. My cholesterol was a little higher than he'd like it to be but not to the point where he was too concerned about it. (130 bad cholesterol) Told me to change my diet and not stress out so much.
This is all funny because I am not stressed at all. My life is good. Yeah I get money problems from time to time (who doesn't?) and I got 2 kids plus a wife. But I am happy. My life is good! I don't drink because I am sad. I drink because it makes me feel good I drink on my days off. (Drank*)
Now I don't anymore. I was not an alcoholic at least I didn't think I was. Quitting wasn't hard. It sucks but I am not dependent on it.
But since that day I've not been the same. I've been constantly worried that something will happen to me. In my sleep or while I'm driving. Or while at work. It's scary. I've checked my BP often and its mostly normal. Occasionally yeah it's a little high but this is after a long day.
But sometimes I just don't feel right. And I don't want to call an ambulance and cause a big scene.
I hate that since then I've noticed when I bend down to pick something up off the floor or lean over to play with my kids I feel massive pressure in my head and face. Idk if that's always been like that or if this is new.
By the way I did try drinking a few days after my last visit with the doctor and I was cool that night no issues. Slept decent. But the next day during the day I was feeling off. Chest felt tight. I checked my BP and it was around 130/75 heart rate was a bit high. So this is why I quit drinking all together.
But this just sucks.
And I quit smoking weed because it made my BP go up too high and I would get too much anxiety. This all happened towards the end of the 10 years of smoking. Otherwise I was fine I never had anything like this happen to me.
Not sure if anyone has experienced anything like this... anyways thanks for reading and sorry for the long post. Feel free to weigh in on the matter.

Use this thread to promote yourself and/or your work!
(Descriptions of fictional crimes investigated by the story's main Character Max.)
Detective's Fate
It's august of 2008.....
Max is a detective living in Chicago He checks his pistol and puts on his police badge as he walks out his front door.
He has been searching for a serial killer known as the Caller for years and always been one step behind due to the red tape.....
More importantly the chief's lazy attitude towards getting search warrants and actions approved by the courts for raids. Twice Max had good intel on the suspect's locations and photo evidence showing him at the sites.
The department needs more vigilant, caring officers and leaders but no one steps up to do it, instead they just complain about the slow progress and officers. And hinder investigations.
Now Max has decided that it might be time to stop playing by the rules and catch this scumbag.... .... ....
Starting his car Max sets his GPS to the address that "The Caller" was last seen and pulls out of his driveway as the 50 miles of directions pop up.
The killer's nickname being for his signature of calling in as he is committing the crime.
As he drives he remembers his first case, five years ago now..... ..... .....
A woman, Joane Taylor, was found dead in an alleyway after going out for the night. She showed no signs of struggle leading the police to believe she had drank to much and expired from alcohol poisoning.... ...
The death was written off as a "party gone wrong".... That is until several more were found and the coroner decided on a whim to test for other substances.
Once it came out that the deaths were possible murders...
The calls started coming in, almost like the suspect wanted credit before revealing himself....
Then ways of the deaths began changing as the Serial Killer explored his twisted desires searching for his preferred method.
The last case being a young woman found stuffed in a dumpster after the killer apparently got scared off.... Max will never forget it.... .... ....
The GPS finishes and the car beeps its final direction, taking an exit off the highway. Ramps out here are always confusing... Which is funny since he has driven this one for five years now...
The chief says he should sit this one out but he can't... The latest victim 3 months ago.
Marie Spelner, a waitress out on her smoke break talking to her spouse on the phone.
Survived by her husband, no children or living relatives. ....
Max Spelner turns into the driveway of the house he was directed to... Stepping out of the car he walks up and knocks on the door. Looking at the house he knows the family must be doing well if they live here.... Raising his hand to knock again he hears a scream from inside....
A second later the door is answered by a middle aged butler holding a tray with wine glasses on it... "Hello Sir, I'm sorry but this house does not wish to partake in any offers at this time..."
Max calmly says. "I'm not selling anything."
The butler looks confused for a moment before his eyes dart over Max's shoulder seeing his unmarked cruiser and he nods.
Looking past the butler Max sees that a woman is cleaning up after their dog.
"Have you seen this man?" Says Max holds up a picture of the one suspected of being the killer.
The butler gives it a once over before replying. "I'm sorry sir, no I have not." His tone sounds like he is lying... ....
"Are you sure?" The detective asks.
"I would not lie about something like that, sir." He states, his eyes not meeting Max's.
The woman calls from inside "Fletcher, who are you talking too?"
"Some man asking about a killer" he calls back.
"The killer is an inside job!" The woman quickly states.
"What?!" Max says.
"The Killer, it's an inside job." She says again, louder this time. In the same Max also hears a child begin to cry in another room.
"We should start from the beginning, it will be easier to explain trust me." The woman says.
'She seems to know what is going on....
"How do I know your story holds water?" He asks out loud.
"Oh I wouldn't lie. I have been following the case myself and it seems like an inside job to me." She states, somehow sounding hurt.
"Is there anyone else in the house besides you two and the baby?" He asks noticing the baby isn't crying anymore.
"Just Fletcher and I live here, the baby is my cousins but he just stays the night sometimes." She replies.
Max draws his gun and enters the house upon reasonable suspicion of an emergency in progress or suspect on the premisses as the man seems to be deceiving.
While the woman still seems unconcerned that the child is now silent.
He pushes past the butler and rushes towards the area he heard the crying. passes the entryway, the dinning room, and a kitchen before finally finding a child in a playpen.
"There there..." He says in a sing song voice picking up the child. "I'm officer Max, do you know where your mommy is?"
The child just cries louder.
Then he sees the man from the photo walk out of the bathroom, upon seeing him he bolts for the door and Max sets the child down gently then gives chase.
He runs through the house, following the man as he can hear the woman screaming at him to stop but he doesn't."
"Stop or I'll shoot." The man doesn't even break stride.
Instead he runs out of the front door and jumps into his car.
Furious that the man might escape he fires at the car as it drives away.
The back window shatters and he hopes he got his tire, but he doesn't wait to find out as he runs to his car and initiates a pursuit....
He flips on his concealed lights in his cruiser as he reverses down the drive and into the street.
The suspects car is fast but he manages to keep up with it weaving in and out of traffic as people move over for the siren.
As they approach a red light there is heavy traffic in the intersection..... ....
The suspect slams on his brakes and Max's cruiser only just stops short of hitting it. Jumping out the Detective points his firearm at the vehicle running up beside seeing heavily tinted windows.
"Get out of the car and on the ground now!!" He shouts as he moves to the driver's side door.
After seeing no response....
Max throws open the door and the driver is gone with the passenger side open.
He quickly runs to the other side catching the man trying to sneak off tackling him to the ground and then takes his arms putting them behind his back.
Max grabs his radio and calls it in as the man cries.
As he is waiting he hears a noise that sounds like static.....
"Wrong guy moron.. Did you ever stop to think I wanted you close for this one. That I planned everything...Even framing the pothead..... I almost lost interest until you pulled in the driveway... The attic is kinda cramped tho... I think I'll go carve some meat. Maybe graduate to other things to. I'm not sure yet. Lets see if you can catch me before......" A familiar voice says over the radio then cuts off... ...
Max looks at the man on the ground. "Why did you run from me?" He asks.
"Cause I have like 19 grams of marijuana in my pocket." He replies...
"Do you know how stupid that is?! I don't care about that I'm looking for a killer."
Before he can answer Max hears the woman from the house screaming for her life and a child's cries on his radio.
Then from below Max. "He's in the house, he's in the house! My mom and the baby!" The man on the ground says crying.
Max uncuffs him and runs to his car heading back to the house as he lays down rubber on the road... ... ...
As he approaches and pulls into the driveway he notices the front door is open.
"Hold on I'm coming!" Max screams jumping out of his cruiser...
He runs into the house finding the woman's body arriving too late. Moving over to her he checks for a pulse but she is gone, a large gash in her neck.
As he stands up he slips in a fluid but gains his balance and tries not to think about what it is....
He rushes to the room the baby was in finding the play pen empty. He leaves the room searching the rest of the house and still doesn't find the child.
"Where are you!!!" He calls out....
"This is the Callers first kidnapping and the media would eat up the fact I failed to stop the man." He thinks as he blames himself.
Sirens begin to blare in the distance as backup is about to arrive... ... ...
"There's a woman dead and a baby missing! The woman is in the dinning room straight ahead of the front door, Hurry!" He yells into his radio...
Looking over at the mother seeing a piece of paper on the floor.
He walks over to it seeing writing.
"So close... Looks like I'm a kidnapper now.... Good luck finding me.... And... I so enjoyed killing that sweet wife of yours. Might do it that way again. Not to the kid tho....later Max. Ps. This game is so fun.." It says.
"He was here..." Is all he can muster as the team enters.
"He was right in this house and I missed it because her son freaked over weed and ran..." He says as another officer speaks to him gently.
"Don't beat yourself up Detective, it's not your fault. He must have hid before you got her and left after you arrived." The words do little to comfort him "First day back on the job and the killer escaped taking a child..." He says as he walks away.
The chief arrives in his new lexus with a screeching of rubber as he lurches to a halt.
He quickly exits and leaves his door hanging open as he rushes into Max's face....
"I told you to stay away from this case MAX!!!!....(takes a breath)...
"If I catch any flak from my superiors, I won't suspend you.... That'd be to easy. Desk duty and an entry level demotion. The new guy will have a higher rank than you if things go my way.... Now get outta my sight...". "(Sighs)...
"This job is gonna be the death of me..." He says walking away from Max and towards the Coroner's van..... ..... .....
On the way home the detective stops by the store close to his house which is unlike him because he usually follows the same routine.
He nears the front door and he hears a kitchen timer ding loudly from behind him as his car explodes throwing him through the storefront windows as they are blown out..... .....
Alarms around the lot and others nearby create a cacophony of noise. His head pounding as his body aches, Max pushes himself up and collapses as the store manager runs over to him telling him not to move as he dials 911.... .... ....
Waking in the hospital Max recalls the feeling of the Shockwave as he flinches in phantom pain.
"Who woulda thought its like holding a ringing metal bat that hurts your hands but all over and way more intense." He thinks.
He suddenly feels tired and falls asleep.... .... .... ....
The next time he wakes, he sees a breaking news story that Jane Saltani is reporting on....
"Young toddler Accidently Shoots Serial killekidnapper ending his life and Alerting residents in the Area." The news anchor says.
Sighing to himself Max thinks about how crazy that is and laughs.
Tho he really wanted to bring the guy in. He closes his eyes to get some much needed sleep as his door opens.
Max looks up to see a man with a silenced pistol pointed at him.
"Hm. Now they think I'm dead. Funny how they just assume they got the right guy. Just like.... You did Detect... ....." Max hears but then hears no more as his end comes at just over the speed of sound....
The Caller leaves the hair of another intelligent convicted murderer that he obtained in a spot that's believable and quickly leaves.....
He disables the surveillance system and sends a virus out to any device that has received video data from the hospital.
Erasing and corrupting the systems. Leaving a master hackers finger prints on a glass from his home....
"Sorry, no witnesses." He says to the security guard as he fires... ..... ..... .... ....

Lots of links. And they are FREE.
Bookmark, share, spread the love. These are not resources for making you a kajillionaire but for helping you grow your own. 💚
The big list-- Check here first

• This is going to probably be your best bet as it's more of a curated list, (credit to ashleymrocks for hooking me up with this list!), and goes into everything from botany to vermiculture and soil comp and all the finer points to hone the quality of your grow -- GiMiKs Library of Organic Gardening Books & PDF Files

Internet Archive
There are lots of books on archive-dot-org if you want just a book to crack and read that answers "how do I start my homegrow?" A few of these might work but some are dated. (I've not read all of these, just listing some examples and looking at one may lead you to many 'similar' ones listed below the titles). Some of these [might] have download/full view options on the site (with a registered account you can "borrow" the books), you can also search the ISBN/titles elsewhere like lib-dot-gen for a full version if you must DL them. (don't forget to use all your usual internet safety stuff like VPN et al for doing that sort of thing!)
**note-- also pay attention to dates, some of these are older books, the one from the 60s has some funny stuff in it's pages just in wording etc. I tried to leave off the ones that did not give any descriptions just "you have to download it" in case of malware.

• https://archive.org/details/GrowingEliteMarijuana_201803 (you should be able to download this one entirely, if you can't I have a copy on dropbox too I can link it.)
  
• https://archive.org/details/growingmarijuana0000hans
  
• https://archive.org/details/marijuanaoutdoor0000cerv
  
• https://archive.org/details/growgreatmarijua0000edwa
  
• https://archive.org/details/indoormarijuanac0000unse
  
• https://archive.org/details/medicalcannabisg0000ditc
  
• https://archive.org/details/marijuanaletsgro0000unse
  
• https://archive.org/details/marijuanagrowbas0000cerv
  
• https://archive.org/details/primoplantgrowin00moun
  
• https://archive.org/details/PBsBirthdayPresent/centerfold/ -- this one is from 1969 and the files are on a sidebar, like they've been uploaded one page at a time, still interesting though, and some fun illustrations.
  

TLDR; Let's grow and help each other, here's a not comprehensive but starting to get it going list of grow help.

38M, 5'7" 192 lbs, white. I don't smoke at all, and drink VERY occasionally (although this is only for the last year or two, before that I drank at least a few almost every weekend). I do use edible marijuana a few times a week at bedtime.
I'll try to be as concise as possible. I am confused and concerned about the treatment being recommended for my recently diagnosed carpal tunnel syndrome.
A little over two months ago, I started experiencing numbness and tingling in my thumb and fingers, along with some "funny bone" sensations when extending my arm. This is happening on both arms (I wasn't aware that it could happen simultaneously in both hands). The symptoms come and go, but mostly act up when I'm reading, driving, playing with my kids, and playing guitar. Once I "rest" them for a few minutes, the symptoms generally subside. I haven't had any issues with the symptoms waking me up at night, as I've heard happens sometimes with CTS. It's never been that severe.
I called my GP who gave me the name of an orthopedic specialist/surgeon, and I made an appointment, which occurred about 3 weeks later. I had not been actually examined or given a diagnosis for CTS by anyone at this point. When I went in, he literally did one test on my hands, having me hold them palms-up while he pressed my thumbs down and asked me to try to push back. He was able to push my right thumb down a little easier than my left. He immediately said it was CTS and recommended ligament release surgery on my right hand, and a steroid injection in my left, or I could just move forward with surgery on both hands, as I "will eventually need it on both anyway." He wanted me to schedule surgery immediately for my right hand, because if I left it, there would be permanent muscle loss (I can't remember exactly what he said, but essentially that if the blood supply was cut off for too long, something would die and then I would never be able to close my thumb on my hand properly. Some terminology about one thing never being able to plug into another thing).
I called back the next day and told him I didn't feel comfortable moving forward with anything until I got a nerve conduction study and electromyography. He said ok and I had an appointment for these tests a few weeks later.
*I should note a few things that occurred during the weeks between the ortho appointment and the NCS/EMG appointment:
1) My symptoms have lessened slightly, and shifted more to a general dull ache in my fingers, the sides of my wrists, and my forearms. I still have the tingling, just not as often or severe (although it could be that I've just gotten used to it--but the tingling definitely has not gotten worse). The dull ache sort of an ebbs and flows throughout the day, depending on what I'm doing, but not unbearable or anything like that.
2) I have noticed that my wrists "click" sometimes when I move them, which is not something I've been aware of before. It happens in the joint where my wrists meet my forearms, on the outside of my arm (pinky side). I'm not clicking them intentionally, it just happens randomly.
3) I had some cold tingling/numbness in my toes that happens mainly when I sit to drive or lay in bed, for which I was referred to a podiatrist. She conducted several tests for tarsal tunnel syndrome, which were all negative. She ultimately said that she believes it is being caused by back problems, and told me to talk to my GP about physical therapy.
Moving forward, this past Thursday the NCS and EMG concluded that I have CTS in both hands, but both arms were mild cases. They also ruled out ulnar entrapment. The neuro said that based on the results, he wasn't concerned in the slightest with muscle atrophy, and that I was not a patient that he would recommend surgery to as the first method of attack.
The ortho called me back today and confirmed that the tests showed the mild cases of CTS in both hands, and that they did not show any signs of muscle atrophy. But that these tests can sometimes "lag" by a couple of months in terms of what is actually happening, and he wants to stick to the plan, with surgery on my right and steroid in my left. I told him I really wasn't comfortable with surgery based on everything, and he finally said we could just do steroids in both hands, but would need to monitor the muscle in my right hand closely, and that we still may need to do surgery, and that the steroid injections could then cause problems with the ligament healing properly. I also tried to give him the additional information about the clicking, my symptoms changing, the back issues the podiatrist mentioned, etc. and he seemed annoyed and brushed them off.
I'm just very concerned and overwhelmed with how to proceed. I feel like I should see another ortho about this and move away from this guy since he seems hellbent on cutting, but I'm also anxious to begin a treatment so that I can return to doing my hobbies, and I know getting another new-patient appointment somewhere else will likely take at least another few weeks.
Would you recommend a second-opinion? With such conflicting information, should I actually be concerned about losing muscle function at this stage? Are there other treatment steps I should take before agreeing to surgery? Is getting steroid injections risky? Is it possible that the back issues that my podiatrist pointed out could also be causing the CTS? I have no other ongoing health issues, with the exception of dyshidrotic eczema, which started about 12 years ago, but I have been able to keep well-treated without steroids.

First post. I felt the spur of the moment need to rant a little bit, and maybe meet some people with similar issues. It turned out a little longer than I first intended, but I wanted to be thorough. Forewarning I don't live my autism, it's just the way I am so I'm likely not going to use all the proper, hip terminology. I know a lot of places can be sensitive when you use terms like "highelower" functioning but those are the terms I grew up with and understand.
I've always known I was autistic. I've had troubles in school from the very beginning. I've always had very few friends, and dealt with a lot of issues that I now know were forms of sensory issues. It's interesting because I would be considered "higher functioning" in the sense that I've never really experienced too many issues communicating, or serious sensory issues. I was diagnosed with Asperger's which I believe is no longer the term used. I've always had the ability to quickly master any skill, or task I put my mind to but have been completely incompetent in social situations often acting a fool and realizing it later. But Overall I never liked using Autism as a title or disorder as I'm just a person that has a different personality. I've never really understood sensory issues since I didn't have issues with them as a kid. However as an adult I am really starting to see challenges.

Professional Challenges

Bullying as a kid sucks, and you feel like it's the end of the world, but at the end of the day you can escape it, come home and play video games. I realize now that I didn't notice a lot of my autistic traits because I was escaping and not facing it. I can't escape anymore because I don't have time for video games, and even if I did I spend a lot of time staring at all the games I really don't want to play anymore. Bullying doesn't really go away as an adult. People just find politically correct ways to belittle or exclude you. In the real world bully kids grow up to be bully adults that use their position of authority to continue to keep you beneath them on the social hierarchy. They are your boss, and they will let you know this. Work, much like school is still a popularity contest, and office workers that can barely figure out how to send an email still run things while skilled service workers do as they are told by their superiors. As an adult I've always found work to be a struggle. I've often been called lazy for "not wanting to work", but the truth is I work my butt off when I'm given free rein to pursue something I love and understand. I used to spend hours working on computers, not sleeping until I solved a problem. The issue isn't work ethic, but that I didn't understand the social expectations and politics of the workplace. I've never done well with micromanagement, and It's hard to explain to people when they say to stop asking questions and just do your job, that for me doing something that is backwards or "stupid" when there is a clear better way makes me feel very uncomfortable. It triggers an intense stress that I would describe as something similar to emotional pain someone might feel from a breakup. I feel heavy, anxious, and angry. I can't control this, and all I can do is mask which leads to inevitable burn out.
It's also extremely frustrating to have the ability to learn advanced concepts and remain stuck at the lower end of the economic ladder because I haven't proven myself on paper. I understand why things are the way they are, but it doesn't make it less impactful. Despite the fact I can get a 60% return in my own portfolio I could never get a job in finance, and still end up losing money when I have to cash out anything I make to cover emergencies such as extended unemployment. I work in IT. I make under $20 for basic helpdesk. I've been running linux servers, coding, setting up VMs, networking, etc for over 10 years for fun. With my skills I should be earning 3x what I'm currently making, But I don't have experience on paper. Only in the past year have I been able to effectively mask, shut up, do my job, and focus on certifications. This is likely due to marijuana mellowing me out a bit. But even that leads to it's own career challenges.

Sensory Issues

When I was a kid I would chew my shirts, or tear them due to ripping out the tags. But that was the extent of my sensory issues. I never understood how somebody could have sensory issues. However as an adult I'm really starting to struggle with this. I went to Broners during Christmas with my GF at the time. There were so many people sucking up the space and oxygen that I felt like I couldn't breath. I was anxious and angry. I wanted to hit someone. At a cruise the staff thought it was a good idea to make everyone stand in one area for like 30 minutes waiting for an announcement. Then I get anxious and angry starting to complain which causes an argument. Now I'm the AH. Going to the grocery store has the potential to be a nightmare when there is a broken amigo cart that's beeping nonstop the entire time I'm there. There is always music which seems to have the sole purpose of drowning out any silence. Adblocks are a must, because I can't tolerate my computer or tv screaming at me at full blast without warning. I can't even get a second of peace to pump my gas after a long day of masking at work without the gas pumps screaming at me now. I feel like I'm Guy Montag being flooded with ads for denham's dentifrice everywhere I go, and I'm the only one around that that sees something horribly wrong with constant intrusive stimuli. I was at a work doing a kickball game I thought would be fun, I'm fairly athletic and thought it would be easy. They had the music blasting so loud, and I was filled with so much anxiety and pressure that I couldn't perform and did terribly. The school environment didn't help. I felt the same intense pressure and stress I haven't felt since middle school. Keep in mind I've fought in mixed martial arts in front of a few thousand people, so I don't typically have issues with public or performance anxiety.

Social Conventions

I often describe my life as feeling like an alien living on a foreign planet I don't understand. I don't understand why people do what they do, vote the way they vote, say what they say, etc. Not to sound pretentious, but I often wonder if all people even have consciousness or if they just run on autopilot. Because there are people I talk to that can talk about things, but have zero critical or original thoughts. They just talk about things that happen to or around them. You can really see this when you question them and they only have pre-programmed responses. Basic input and output with no calculations. These are either the most or least successful people. Dating has been a challenge for obvious reasons since it's almost entirely based on body language, hints, and guesswork. One thing that frustrates me to no end is the idea of diversity, and inclusion. Not because I don't agree with them in theory. But because ultimately it's fake. People say they want to be diverse but can't handle diversity of personalities and are turned off by autistic quirks. Inclusion or not I am the bad guy. People will often say they believe in inclusion but will be the first to discriminate on the basis of social class. People will say they want to help the poor, but will be the first to vote against any affordable housing projects in their own neighborhood. I'm the bad guy for being blunt and honest, including about social issues, but as long as you say the right things in the right tone you can continue to be closet bigot that feels superior to everyone else. This type of hypocrisy which is rife through society triggers my BS detector. This is a thing I theorize more aneurotypical people have. I can see a narcissist, liar, or just general bad person from a mile away. Yet everyone loves this person until they inevitably show their true self, and everyone is shocked but me. It's amazing how many blatant pathological liars will tell the most outlandish tales, and everyone believes them. It's as if typical people always assume honesty. The funny thing is I would be considered creepy because of some of my more socially awkward behavior, but I see actual creeps do very well socially and in dating. This isn't jealousy. By creeps I don't mean successful men. I mean lying, two faced, creeps that I wouldn't put past them to engage in date rape. They are very good at manipulating people and change friend groups a lot when they finally show the truth. I'm shocked nobody else can see through it, and see when they are being manipulated.
Ultimately I get frustrated because I feel like I have a lot of potential and ideas to create things. I'm always observing and creating business ideas in my head. Ideas I know I could succeed at, but It's hard to start a business when you are working paycheck to paycheck, and all your finances and mental energy are directed at surviving in a world that wasn't built for you.

I let my friend practice stick n poke tattoos on me while we were under the influence of marijuana. We were like 17 at the time. She wanted to have matching "doobie" tattoos. She drew up a little joint with a smiley face and got to poking. I pulled through till the end. She wanted hers on her ribs. I got in maybe 5 pokes and she didn't want to continue 😑 I cut her off a few years ago already, this was one of many reasons for me ending that friendship. I found out she had a whole chest and rib tattoo to cover the tiny ink marks that were left 🤦🏻‍♀️
I believe I've had around 4 sessions on this. All done at removery with a picoway laser, 8- 10 weeks between each session on average.
The guess on what the tattoo was, was always so funny. Some guessed baguette, bottle of wine, condom, amoeba 😂 Glad it's next to gone now. Just a few more sessions and it'll be a thing of the past.

Soooo part of my job is to view other hotel reviews in the area on our downtime to see what the competition is up to lol. I went down the rabbit hole on a motel that is no longer exists in this area and I just thought the writer was funny and wanted to share. I obviously changed the names, location, dates. I hope this is allowed and ya'll get a good laugh at this honest review. (and yes this specific place was known for these types of activities hence why they are no longer in business)
We reserved 3 rooms for (the dates we chose) as we decided to make Ptown our pit stop on the way from Ktown to our destination. Our 3 families were traveling to a family reunion, and needed some place to rest our heads. We didn't have high expectations. Seeing the pictures online, we thought SantaClaus Inn fit the bill. It seemed like an older motel, but a place that would have clean rooms and semi-comfortable beds. That's all we needed.
We arrived at 8pm after a long day on the road - ready to check-in and go grab a bite to eat. Pulling into the parking lot, we were immediately skeptical. Lounging in the outdoor pool was a group of 3 adults. Between all of them they had one full mouthful of teeth but enough oddly placed tattoos for even the most crowded rehab clinic. They glared as we put our cars in park. "Who are these strangers, these outsiders?" they seemingly said to themselves. "They don't belong here" they said with their eyes. Apprehensive, we went to check-in. Perhaps they were just passerby's like we were. We shouldn't be so judgemental - let's just get our suitcases into our rooms and go about our business. After a reasonably smooth check-in, we hopped into the car and drove over to rooms 126, 128 & 129. As we parked, we began to notice the other cars around us. Some with broken windows covered with blankets, others clearly permanent residents of this parking lot. Looking up at the second level - broken blinds covering windows - one window adorned with a sheet. One that I might have decorated my room with in college."There's something off here..." we said to ourselves. Why would someone take the time to decorate their window, for an overnight stay? Even a couple of days? Hmm, no matter. We used the keycard to open the door to room 128 - as the door creaked open, the barking started. Not the yap of a trusted companion, but the sound of 3 large breed dogs protecting their turf - barking the same way dogs do at a house when a stranger's at the door. Why would a motel allow 3 large dogs in a 500 sf room?
Once the door opened, the odor was undeniable. Urine. Urine, mixed with cigarettes, mixed with marijuana. No, we can't do this. Cigarette butts in the bath tub - the stench - the dogs. We walked out of the room - we can't do this. Another group in our party was emerging from room 129. "Is your room as bad as ours?", we asked. "It stinks, there's no blankets on our beds..." - looking inside, one wall was covered in a dry-wall compound. A microwave sitting next to the sink - waiting for someone to electrocute themselves. We need to get the hell out of here. As we loaded back into our cars to drive over to the lobby, a scantily clad woman emerged from around the corner to let a man into her room. He had arrived for a business transaction - that much was clear. "Get in the car kids" we said hurriedly.
Walking back into the lobby, we informed the clerk at the desk that there were large dogs next to our rooms, the rooms didn't look or smell clean and we would like to cancel our reservation and go elsewhere. "I can put you other rooms" she said. "Yeah, that won't be necessary - we'd really rather leave and get a refund". "We can't give you a refund - we offered you another room". "But we don't want another room, we just want our money back". "You'll have to come back tomorrow and talk to our manager, I can't do anything for you". Exhausted, we loaded in our cars and left. Better housing at a safer place awaited.
The next morning on our way out of town, we stopped by the SantaClaus Inn to speak with a manager. The same clerk was there. She said "I talked to the manager, and there's nothing we can do for you. We offered you another room, and that is our policy".
Wow...
Well, that concludes this review - proceed with CAUTION and DO NOT BOOK the SantaClaus Inn and Suites Ptown..

Use this thread to promote yourself and/or your work!
(Descriptions of fictional crimes investigated by the story's main Character Max.)
Detective's Fate
It's august of 2008.....
Max is a detective living in Chicago He checks his pistol and puts on his police badge as he walks out his front door.
He has been searching for a serial killer known as the Caller for years and always been one step behind due to the red tape.....
More importantly the chief's lazy attitude towards getting search warrants and actions approved by the courts for raids. Twice Max had good intel on the suspect's locations and photo evidence showing him at the sites.
The department needs more vigilant, caring officers and leaders but no one steps up to do it, instead they just complain about the slow progress and officers. And hinder investigations.
Now Max has decided that it might be time to stop playing by the rules and catch this scumbag.... .... ....
Starting his car Max sets his GPS to the address that "The Caller" was last seen and pulls out of his driveway as the 50 miles of directions pop up.
The killer's nickname being for his signature of calling in as he is committing the crime.
As he drives he remembers his first case, five years ago now..... ..... .....
A woman, Joane Taylor, was found dead in an alleyway after going out for the night. She showed no signs of struggle leading the police to believe she had drank to much and expired from alcohol poisoning.... ...
The death was written off as a "party gone wrong".... That is until several more were found and the coroner decided on a whim to test for other substances.
Once it came out that the deaths were possible murders...
The calls started coming in, almost like the suspect wanted credit before revealing himself....
Then ways of the deaths began changing as the Serial Killer explored his twisted desires searching for his preferred method.
The last case being a young woman found stuffed in a dumpster after the killer apparently got scared off.... Max will never forget it.... .... ....
The GPS finishes and the car beeps its final direction, taking an exit off the highway. Ramps out here are always confusing... Which is funny since he has driven this one for five years now...
The chief says he should sit this one out but he can't... The latest victim 3 months ago.
Marie Spelner, a waitress out on her smoke break talking to her spouse on the phone.
Survived by her husband, no children or living relatives. ....
Max Spelner turns into the driveway of the house he was directed to... Stepping out of the car he walks up and knocks on the door. Looking at the house he knows the family must be doing well if they live here.... Raising his hand to knock again he hears a scream from inside....
A second later the door is answered by a middle aged butler holding a tray with wine glasses on it... "Hello Sir, I'm sorry but this house does not wish to partake in any offers at this time..."
Max calmly says. "I'm not selling anything."
The butler looks confused for a moment before his eyes dart over Max's shoulder seeing his unmarked cruiser and he nods.
Looking past the butler Max sees that a woman is cleaning up after their dog.
"Have you seen this man?" Says Max holds up a picture of the one suspected of being the killer.
The butler gives it a once over before replying. "I'm sorry sir, no I have not." His tone sounds like he is lying... ....
"Are you sure?" The detective asks.
"I would not lie about something like that, sir." He states, his eyes not meeting Max's.
The woman calls from inside "Fletcher, who are you talking too?"
"Some man asking about a killer" he calls back.
"The killer is an inside job!" The woman quickly states.
"What?!" Max says.
"The Killer, it's an inside job." She says again, louder this time. In the same Max also hears a child begin to cry in another room.
"We should start from the beginning, it will be easier to explain trust me." The woman says.
'She seems to know what is going on....
"How do I know your story holds water?" He asks out loud.
"Oh I wouldn't lie. I have been following the case myself and it seems like an inside job to me." She states, somehow sounding hurt.
"Is there anyone else in the house besides you two and the baby?" He asks noticing the baby isn't crying anymore.
"Just Fletcher and I live here, the baby is my cousins but he just stays the night sometimes." She replies.
Max draws his gun and enters the house upon reasonable suspicion of an emergency in progress or suspect on the premisses as the man seems to be deceiving.
While the woman still seems unconcerned that the child is now silent.
He pushes past the butler and rushes towards the area he heard the crying. passes the entryway, the dinning room, and a kitchen before finally finding a child in a playpen.
"There there..." He says in a sing song voice picking up the child. "I'm officer Max, do you know where your mommy is?"
The child just cries louder.
Then he sees the man from the photo walk out of the bathroom, upon seeing him he bolts for the door and Max sets the child down gently then gives chase.
He runs through the house, following the man as he can hear the woman screaming at him to stop but he doesn't."
"Stop or I'll shoot." The man doesn't even break stride.
Instead he runs out of the front door and jumps into his car.
Furious that the man might escape he fires at the car as it drives away.
The back window shatters and he hopes he got his tire, but he doesn't wait to find out as he runs to his car and initiates a pursuit....
He flips on his concealed lights in his cruiser as he reverses down the drive and into the street.
The suspects car is fast but he manages to keep up with it weaving in and out of traffic as people move over for the siren.
As they approach a red light there is heavy traffic in the intersection..... ....
The suspect slams on his brakes and Max's cruiser only just stops short of hitting it. Jumping out the Detective points his firearm at the vehicle running up beside seeing heavily tinted windows.
"Get out of the car and on the ground now!!" He shouts as he moves to the driver's side door.
After seeing no response....
Max throws open the door and the driver is gone with the passenger side open.
He quickly runs to the other side catching the man trying to sneak off tackling him to the ground and then takes his arms putting them behind his back.
Max grabs his radio and calls it in as the man cries.
As he is waiting he hears a noise that sounds like static.....
"Wrong guy moron.. Did you ever stop to think I wanted you close for this one. That I planned everything...Even framing the pothead..... I almost lost interest until you pulled in the driveway... The attic is kinda cramped tho... I think I'll go carve some meat. Maybe graduate to other things to. I'm not sure yet. Lets see if you can catch me before......" A familiar voice says over the radio then cuts off... ...
Max looks at the man on the ground. "Why did you run from me?" He asks.
"Cause I have like 19 grams of marijuana in my pocket." He replies...
"Do you know how stupid that is?! I don't care about that I'm looking for a killer."
Before he can answer Max hears the woman from the house screaming for her life and a child's cries on his radio.
Then from below Max. "He's in the house, he's in the house! My mom and the baby!" The man on the ground says crying.
Max uncuffs him and runs to his car heading back to the house as he lays down rubber on the road... ... ...
As he approaches and pulls into the driveway he notices the front door is open.
"Hold on I'm coming!" Max screams jumping out of his cruiser...
He runs into the house finding the woman's body arriving too late. Moving over to her he checks for a pulse but she is gone, a large gash in her neck.
As he stands up he slips in a fluid but gains his balance and tries not to think about what it is....
He rushes to the room the baby was in finding the play pen empty. He leaves the room searching the rest of the house and still doesn't find the child.
"Where are you!!!" He calls out....
"This is the Callers first kidnapping and the media would eat up the fact I failed to stop the man." He thinks as he blames himself.
Sirens begin to blare in the distance as backup is about to arrive... ... ...
"There's a woman dead and a baby missing! The woman is in the dinning room straight ahead of the front door, Hurry!" He yells into his radio...
Looking over at the mother seeing a piece of paper on the floor.
He walks over to it seeing writing.
"So close... Looks like I'm a kidnapper now.... Good luck finding me.... And... I so enjoyed killing that sweet wife of yours. Might do it that way again. Not to the kid tho....later Max. Ps. This game is so fun.." It says.
"He was here..." Is all he can muster as the team enters.
"He was right in this house and I missed it because her son freaked over weed and ran..." He says as another officer speaks to him gently.
"Don't beat yourself up Detective, it's not your fault. He must have hid before you got her and left after you arrived." The words do little to comfort him "First day back on the job and the killer escaped taking a child..." He says as he walks away.
The chief arrives in his new lexus with a screeching of rubber as he lurches to a halt.
He quickly exits and leaves his door hanging open as he rushes into Max's face....
"I told you to stay away from this case MAX!!!!....(takes a breath)...
"If I catch any flak from my superiors, I won't suspend you.... That'd be to easy. Desk duty and an entry level demotion. The new guy will have a higher rank than you if things go my way.... Now get outta my sight...". "(Sighs)...
"This job is gonna be the death of me..." He says walking away from Max and towards the Coroner's van..... ..... .....
On the way home the detective stops by the store close to his house which is unlike him because he usually follows the same routine.
He nears the front door and he hears a kitchen timer ding loudly from behind him as his car explodes throwing him through the storefront windows as they are blown out..... .....
Alarms around the lot and others nearby create a cacophony of noise. His head pounding as his body aches, Max pushes himself up and collapses as the store manager runs over to him telling him not to move as he dials 911.... .... ....
Waking in the hospital Max recalls the feeling of the Shockwave as he flinches in phantom pain.
"Who woulda thought its like holding a ringing metal bat that hurts your hands but all over and way more intense." He thinks.
He suddenly feels tired and falls asleep.... .... .... ....
The next time he wakes, he sees a breaking news story that Jane Saltani is reporting on....
"Young toddler Accidently Shoots Serial killekidnapper ending his life and Alerting residents in the Area." The news anchor says.
Sighing to himself Max thinks about how crazy that is and laughs.
Tho he really wanted to bring the guy in. He closes his eyes to get some much needed sleep as his door opens.
Max looks up to see a man with a silenced pistol pointed at him.
"Hm. Now they think I'm dead. Funny how they just assume they got the right guy. Just like.... You did Detect... ....." Max hears but then hears no more as his end comes at just over the speed of sound....
The Caller leaves the hair of another intelligent convicted murderer that he obtained in a spot that's believable and quickly leaves.....
He disables the surveillance system and sends a virus out to any device that has received video data from the hospital.
Erasing and corrupting the systems. Leaving a master hackers finger prints on a glass from his home....
"Sorry, no witnesses." He says to the security guard as he fires... ..... ..... .... ....

Episode 1: Oh god no, my marijuana patch! (Farmer)
Episode 2:We here at team four star do not condone child violence. We do however find it hilarious.(Kaiser)
Episode 3: Mahogany! (King Yemma)
Episode 4: Alright Maggots listen up! Popo's 'bout to teach you the pecking order. It goes you, the dirt, the worms inside of the dirt, Popo's stool, Kami, then Popo. (Popo)
Episode 5: DODGE! (Piccolo)
Episode 6: I’ll tell you where they’re not, safe! (Popo)
Episode 7: I’m not a Pokémon! I’m Chiaotzu! CHIAOTZU! (Chiaotzu)
Episode 8: “Vegeta! I can fly” (Nappa)
Episode 9: "9 minutes and 18 seconds" (Vegeta)
Episode 10: “What’s the opposite of Christopher Walken? CHRISTOPHER REEVES!" (Vegeta)
Episode 11: “Yep, this baby gets 10,000 miles to the soul.” (Popo)
Episode 12: "No! What are you:stupid? We are doctors, scientists! Now inject this man with some SCIENCE! Delicious, magical SCIENCE!" (Some Freeza Grunt)
Episode 13: "Could you speak up? I'm not wearing any pants" (Roshi)
Episode 14: "QUACK!" (The Space-Duck)
Episode 15: "Muffin Button" (Goku)
Episode 16: Face down with another man beating your ass. Is it Wednesday already, Zarbon? (Vegeta)
Episode 17: I'm coming Zarbon! Quick, grab my balls!
Episode 18: " I don't know. Maybe you could've bitched at him, how 'bout that? That's all you appear to be good for these days. Huh? Used your bitch-fu on him? Bulma the mistress of bitching, that's what they should call you. Seriously, five ancient sages of bitchdom all gathered together one day on the peaks of Mount Bitch to proclaim your birth. And a hundred years later, when all the bitch stars had aligned, you were born and made everybody's life around you a living hell because you are such a bitch!" (Krillin)
Episode 19: "Son of a gum-chewing funk-monster! Why the fruit does all this funny stuff happen to me?! Forget my life! Always surrounded by miserable failing clods! Like this whole world just likes to *bend* me over and FIND ME IN THE ALPS! Like I'm some sort of shlock receptacle! Well as far as I care, these miserable cows can have a fancy barbecue with a goddamn pig!!" (Vegeta)
Episode 20: "BECAUSE THE NAME'S RECCOOME! IT RHYMES WITH DOOM! AND YOU'RRRRRE GONNA BE HURTING ALL TOO SOON!!! (Reccoome)
Episode 21: I can't believe we came all the way out here and spent a week in the Space Boonies for nothing! Seriously, I'm surprised we didn't hear banjos on the way, because everyone is inbred and LOOKS THE F***ING SAME! Not to mention I lost Dodoria and Zarbon, the latter of whom spent 400 credits making long-distance calls to his girlfriend, WHO I AM CONVINCED IS NAMED CHUCK! (Freeza)
Episode 22: Did you tell him to work the shaft? (Super Kami Guru)
Episode 23: This is easily the 2nd worse hole I’ve ever had in my chest. It’s gonna take like, a million mommy kisses to make it better. (Goku).
Episode 24: "Oh ho ho ho no, don't mind me. By all means, g̶̢͘í̸͖̈̕͝v̶̢̹͠ͅe̸̮͆̋̽ ̷͙͔͙̲̏͛ḿ̸̨̲̦̤͒͑ẹ̴̜͚̰̉̂ ̵̩͈͍̯̠́͂s̷̝͓͍̑o̷̢̲͙̅̍̐̔͠m̷͔̂e̸̪͊̂̐̕͠ͅ ̵̛̱̣̣̱̎̅i̶̍̒͂ͅd̶̡̲̟̔̉̏ȩ̸̙̭̺̑̊̃͠ä̸̧̱́̅s̴̙͚̯̯̩̾." (Freeza)
Episode 25: "Oh good. I'll stop by there on the way home. Pick up some space eggs, some space milk, and BLOW IT THE F*** UP! Oh, I'm sorry, I'm usually far more composed. I'm just a little bit A B S O L U T E L Y L I V I D." (Freeza)
Episode 26: “That’s right, I’m your White Mage, & Nobody fucks with the White Mage” (Little Green)
Episode 27: " Imma deck ya in the schnozz!" (Goku)
Episode 28: “Good Lord I traded Vegeta for this” (Freeza)
Episode 29: Oh, come now. If I'm really as evil as you say I am, then let God strike me down where I stand. *lightning zaps* HA! Nice try, jackass! Next time, give it your A-game! (Freeza),
Episode 30: “I am the hope of the omniverse! I am the light bulb in the darkness! I am the bacon in the fridge for all the living things that cry out in hunger! I am the Alpha and the Amiga! I am the terror that flaps in the night! (starts powering up) I am Son Gokū! and I am a Super (Death beam to forehead) Saiyan” (Goku)

Funny, Horrifying, Funeral Story: A friend asked me to manage the Zoom for his mother’s funeral recently (she passed while staying with him far from where she lived). He needed to be able to deliver the eulogy and let relatives share stories, so I was going to help the boomers with their mics/video etc. The meeting had a passcode required, and he wouldn’t know a lot of her friends, so we opted for no waiting room, as we couldn’t vet people anyway. Plus, I hadn’t heard of anyone zoom bombing since 2020. No worries, right? Turns out, found out afterwards someone also shared the link on a public Internet forum she was popular on. This was a detail I did not know. 5 minutes into the first story from his uncle, the screen goes haywire with full screen, close up pornography complete with loud moaning and crazy music. Momentarily stunned, I begin furiously looking for the “remove” option, taking nearly 15 seconds to kick them out. We side text. “Holy shit!” Says it. “That was Joe G, I know them, they would never do that. Maybe they were hacked?” Boom. Another non video account suddenly goes full screen. Different pron, equally loud craziness drowning out the uncles eulogy. It takes me 8 seconds to kick them out. “How TF do I create a waiting room After the meeting is started?” I google as fast as I can. And right as I find the button, video #3 kicks off. More closeups of someone aggressively uh, well you get the idea. In 5 seconds I have them booted and a waiting room added. Sorry late arrivals, no more admissions. “For everyone on the zoom, sorry about all the unexpected, uh, dongs. Seems like the internet has produced some disrespectful guests.” He says as his uncle finishes his story. “Wait! I have a story!” Shouts his father (her long ago ex husband) as he drinks and smokes weed on the zoom funeral (I had to mute his dad’s mic repeatedly throughout). “Well, dad we have other people speaking first, but you know what, go ahead.” “This one time in the 80’s, she and I went down to Mexico to bring back a WHOLE LOAD of Marijuana. And the plan was we take the money to a plane, and they give us the marijuana. But when we gave them the money, the plane flew away and Never Came Back! The plane Never came back!” An awkward pause falls over the zoom funeral. “Well dad, that sounds like a federally incriminating story, but now we’re going to hear from her friend Bob.” “Well she and I dated in high school But it was kind of challenging cause I also wanted to date her sister (also present on the zoom call)! But it seemed like not a good idea to try to date two sisters…etc etc”… 😬😬😬
And as a final chefs kiss, after calling several attendees afterwards, a significant portion of the room had a different zoom view up, and never even saw the pron (they just heard loud chaotic sounds and thought someone had a mic on). So they had no idea why he repeatedly referenced “dongs” during his mother’s funeral. And finally, when we reviewed the zoom recording, it only recorded the slideshow he was playing with her pictures, so while you can hear the craziness on the recording, you can’t see the people or the porn. My friends mother was obviously a funny, eclectic lady, and he and his family have chosen to remember it as a funny send off that she would have found hilarious, rather than horrifying. And now I have a wild, funny funeral story for the rest of my life.

"Hello? Hello? Please, I need help."
Jerry grasped his stomach, his face contorted in a grimace of pain.
"I, my stomach... I think I have a tummy ache!"
I unsuccessfully stifled a laugh. Then we were rolling around the basement, hooting and hollering. A couple hours into our smoke session, we couldn't help but try a few harmless prank calls.
We exhausted our options of the local restaurants, and calling Jerry's cousin with my phone, before we got the brilliant idea to try 911. I was against it. Jerry's argument was we lived in a small town and the operators wouldn't mind a break from the boredom.
He won.
"AGGH, MY TUMMY!" Jerry wailed. He threw his arms above his head, pretending to gasp for air.
I cackled, slapping my knee. It really wasn't that funny but we were zonked out of our minds.
Jerry had flung his phone across the room during his exaggerated performance. I stumbled toward it, short bursts of laughter firing from my chest.
The call was still connected. No problem, I went to hang up.
A woman's voice droned through the speaker.
"We are sending someone your way."
"No wait-," I brought the phone to my ear. The line disconnected.
"Damn it. Jerry."
He was still writhing on the ground.
"Jerry, I think they're actually coming."
He stopped and craned his neck until he was looking at me upside down.
"For real?"
"Yes, dude, they said someone's coming."
Jerry paused. A confused look passed over his face.
"But. How? We didn't even give them an address."
"I think they can track that shit now."
"Cap," he shook his head. "No way. That's gotta be illegal. Tracking your location?"
He looked at me, grasping for validation.
"It's the police, not some hacker in a StarBucks."
Jerry moved quickly towards the T.V. and plopped himself down on the couch.
"Whatever, they pull up we say wrong house."
He brought up Netflix. The marijuana in my system soon scrubbed the worry from my thoughts. We sat and enjoyed the show until a dull knock from upstairs interrupted.
Jerry jumped from the couch and looked at me wide-eyed.
"Shit."
We were at Jerry's house and both in high school. His parents were out of town for the weekend but if they heard about this, he could forget about summer break.
"I didn't think they'd actually come. SHIT. Hide the weed."
"Shut up, relax. They'll go away after a while," I said. He was starting to really freak.
There weren't any windows; his basement was completely underground.
Another knock floated down the stairs.
Unable to bring his attention back to the T.V. he jumped in the air again.
"Lights! I left the lights on upstairs."
"You are an idiot."
Jerry's eyes were hot red. In contrast, the situation was sobering me up.
I scratched my head roughly. "Alright, I think I can talk to them. Stay down here."
He thanked me profusely and gave me water to chug for my breath. At the top of the steps I looked back. Jerry gave a thumbs up and waved me on from the bottom.
Like he said, the living room lights were on and through the opaque glass of the front door, two silhouettes.
I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and walked nervously toward the front.
That moment with the knob in my hand, I could've made a decision that saved me from the paranoia I've suffered since.
Instead, I let them in.
The porch lights were off. The glow from the living room birthed uncanny shadows through the screen door onto the faces of the two outside.
I waited for them to speak. Soundless and motionless, seemingly refusing to breathe. From each of their shadow-masked faces I could only make out a wide smile with teeth dimly illuminated behind the screen.
That silence was far too uncomfortable.
I started, "He-"
"Apologies for disturbing you," one interrupted. He sounded young. It caught me off guard. Maybe it was the dark, but their smiles never moved as they talked.
"There has been an emergency. We are looking for Jerry."
Alarm bells started ringing.
"You might have the wrong house. Sorry, sirs."
I moved to close the door. We had never mentioned our real names on the call.
"Jeremy!"
That voice sounded familiar. It was enough for me to jump away from the door as if electrocuted. One of the silhouettes outside pressed its face into the screen.
"Jeremy, come here right now!"
"Mom?" Jeremy's voice called limply from the basement.
Air evacuated from my lungs. The screen door was opening. With no thoughts in my head beside to flee; to put as much distance between me and the thing coming in, I scrambled up the stairs to the second floor. It was closer than the basement and I locked myself in a bathroom.
I started to type out a text to warn Jerry. There were muffled voices from the living room.
"You must be Jerry."
Too late.
"Uhm, yes. Where's my mom?"
"She stepped outside. What seems to be the problem Jerry?"
"Oh, that. That was an accident. We butt dialed you I think."
"Hm, yes. Your friend. Do you know where he is?"
I sent a burst of texts to Jerry.
DONT TRUST THEM.
YOUR MOMS NOT HERE.
GET OUT.
"Yea, I'm not sure, he was supposed to answer the door. Uhm... uh...
"Is everything alright, Jerry?"
There was a pause.
Then Jerry spoke, unsure and slow.
"Yes. Is it okay if I step out to talk to my mom? She must be really worried."
"Why, yes."
I heard footsteps start before the sounds of a scuffle.
"he-, HEY! WHAT THE HELL!"
There was banging and the the sounds of glass shattering.
"Quiet him. Good."
A frantic grunting followed.
The initial fear was beginning to dissolve. The urge to save my friend powered my legs. I crept down the stairs painfully, one step at a time, listening to the voices - the silhouettes from the dark - speak over Jerry's feeble cries.
"I have a rookie here with me today, so please be patient."
Halfway down the stairs, the wall ended. The slowest I've ever moved was right then, creeping my head around the edge until half of one eye was clear.
They were facing away from me, two men in paramedic uniforms standing over Jerry. He was on the ground bound by straps with gauze shoved into his mouth.
One of the paramedics with long hair knelt. He ran a hand over Jerry's face who shook him off and yelped.
"Give him some monoxide."
The long haired paramedic reached into his bag and began attaching tubes to a gas cannister with the big red letters CO scrawled across it. Jerry's eyes widened and he began thrashing even harder.
He attached the other end to a mask and turned a valve on the cannister. A hissing sound filled the room and the gas mask was forced over Jerry's mouth and nose.
"Hold him."
After 30 seconds Jerry's attempts to free himself noticeably weakened. Within a minute he was unconscious.
During all of this I tried to think of someone who could help us. I didn't want to call anyone, afraid they'd hear me from where I was. My parents were asleep. Even if someone was awake they'd probably call 911. That's what brought them here.
"Go ahead. Do the assessment."
The paramedic directing the long haired one was short and stocky. He turned the valve and the hissing quieted. He pointed at Jerry signaling Long Hair to continue.
Once again, he ran his hands over Jerry's face, then through his hair reaching behind his ears down to his neck. Long Hair went over Jerry's entire body, prodding, pushing, and groping every inch of him. When he reached his toes he turned towards his partner flashing a grin.
"Nothing wrong with him."
"That's terrible news. What was the chief complaint?"
"Abdominal pain."
He shook his head.
"We missed our offering tonight. Young, healthy. This one will make up for it. Bag and tag. You'll learn a lot from him."
Long Hair nodded and exited the house. The stocky one rummaged through another bag and pulled out a sharpie. He lifted Jerry's shirt and began drawing a dotted line below the navel.
"I can't see you."
I flinched. Somehow, I knew he was talking to me.
"But I know you're there. I want you to know this isn't any fault of yours. Or his. This, us. You can call it coincidence. Or fate. Whichever you believe. But, believe in it."
He capped the sharpie. The dotted line had become a dotted oval, stretching across Jerry's abdomen and encircling his belly button.
"We're here to help."
Long Hair walked back in with a stretcher. They quickly loaded Jerry up. He was still unconscious with the mask on him. Long Hair wheeled him out the door and the other called after him.
"That's where you're going to cut. Get the tools ready."
Then he looked into my eye. He smiled. When he spoke he used Jerry's voice.
"Does your tummy hurt too?"
I could barely move, but shook my head.
"Goodbye."
When the house was empty, I cried so hard I passed out. In the morning when I woke, I searched the entire house for Jerry - for proof that it was all a nightmare. There was no evidence; of Jerry or the paramedics.
Haven't seen them since.
I called the police, the real ones. The story that stuck was I woke up, and he was gone. I got a ticket for the weed. That's really it. There was nothing to prove my involvement. Nothing that could prove anything really.
Didn't just lose Jerry that day. No one talks to me. Can't even ask for homework answers anymore. All the adults try to hide their conversations about me. Not that I care much.
To be honest, I'm still looking for my bestfriend.
A week ago it was late driving home from work. An ambulance pulled up beside me at a stop. It's lights weren't on but I kept my foot on the brake when the traffic light turned green.
I tried to get a look inside from the back window but it was too dark to see.
Just make sure, that it's really an emergency when you dial that number. And if you do, make sure that it's really them.

Episode 1: Oh god no, my marijuana patch! (Farmer)
Episode 2:We here at team four star do not condone child violence. We do however find it hilarious.(Kaiser)
Episode 3: Mahogany! (King Yemma)
Episode 4: Alright Maggots listen up! Popo's 'bout to teach you the pecking order. It goes you, the dirt, the worms inside of the dirt, Popo's stool, Kami, then Popo. (Popo)
Episode 5: DODGE! (Piccolo)
Episode 6: I’ll tell you where they’re not, safe! (Popo)
Episode 7: I’m not a Pokémon! I’m Chiaotzu! CHIAOTZU! (Chiaotzu)
Episode 8: “Vegeta! I can fly” (Nappa)
Episode 9: "9 minutes and 18 seconds" (Vegeta)
Episode 10: “What’s the opposite of Christopher Walken? CHRISTOPHER REEVES!" (Vegeta)
Episode 11: “Yep, this baby gets 10,000 miles to the soul.” (Popo)
Episode 12: "No! What are you:stupid? We are doctors, scientists! Now inject this man with some SCIENCE! Delicious, magical SCIENCE!" (Some Freeza Grunt)
Episode 13: "Could you speak up? I'm not wearing any pants" (Roshi)
Episode 14: "QUACK!" (The Space-Duck)
Episode 15: "Muffin Button" (Goku)
Episode 16: Face down with another man beating your ass. Is it Wednesday already, Zarbon? (Vegeta)
Episode 17: I'm coming Zarbon! Quick, grab my balls!
Episode 18: " I don't know. Maybe you could've bitched at him, how 'bout that? That's all you appear to be good for these days. Huh? Used your bitch-fu on him? Bulma the mistress of bitching, that's what they should call you. Seriously, five ancient sages of bitchdom all gathered together one day on the peaks of Mount Bitch to proclaim your birth. And a hundred years later, when all the bitch stars had aligned, you were born and made everybody's life around you a living hell because you are such a bitch!" (Krillin)
Episode 19: "Son of a gum-chewing funk-monster! Why the fruit does all this funny stuff happen to me?! Forget my life! Always surrounded by miserable failing clods! Like this whole world just likes to *bend* me over and FIND ME IN THE ALPS! Like I'm some sort of shlock receptacle! Well as far as I care, these miserable cows can have a fancy barbecue with a goddamn pig!!" (Vegeta)
Episode 20: "BECAUSE THE NAME'S RECCOOME! IT RHYMES WITH DOOM! AND YOU'RRRRRE GONNA BE HURTING ALL TOO SOON!!! (Reccoome)
Episode 21: I can't believe we came all the way out here and spent a week in the Space Boonies for nothing! Seriously, I'm surprised we didn't hear banjos on the way, because everyone is inbred and LOOKS THE F***ING SAME! Not to mention I lost Dodoria and Zarbon, the latter of whom spent 400 credits making long-distance calls to his girlfriend, WHO I AM CONVINCED IS NAMED CHUCK! (Freeza)
Episode 22: Did you tell him to work the shaft? (Super Kami Guru)
Episode 23: This is easily the 2nd worse hole I’ve ever had in my chest. It’s gonna take like, a million mommy kisses to make it better. (Goku).
Episode 24: "Oh ho ho ho no, don't mind me. By all means, g̶̢͘í̸͖̈̕͝v̶̢̹͠ͅe̸̮͆̋̽ ̷͙͔͙̲̏͛ḿ̸̨̲̦̤͒͑ẹ̴̜͚̰̉̂ ̵̩͈͍̯̠́͂s̷̝͓͍̑o̷̢̲͙̅̍̐̔͠m̷͔̂e̸̪͊̂̐̕͠ͅ ̵̛̱̣̣̱̎̅i̶̍̒͂ͅd̶̡̲̟̔̉̏ȩ̸̙̭̺̑̊̃͠ä̸̧̱́̅s̴̙͚̯̯̩̾." (Freeza)
Episode 25: "Oh good. I'll stop by there on the way home. Pick up some space eggs, some space milk, and BLOW IT THE F*** UP! Oh, I'm sorry, I'm usually far more composed. I'm just a little bit A B S O L U T E L Y L I V I D." (Freeza)
Episode 26: “That’s right, I’m your White Mage, & Nobody fucks with the White Mage” (Little Green)
Episode 27: " Imma deck ya in the schnozz!" (Goku)
Episode 28: “Good Lord I traded Vegeta for this” (Freeza)
Episode 29: Oh, come now. If I'm really as evil as you say I am, then let God strike me down where I stand. *lightning zaps* HA! Nice try, jackass! Next time, give it your A-game! (Freeza)