My hands are shaking as I write this, I have to document my story incase something happens to me in the next few days. I'm not sure where to begin but I suppose here is better than anywhere.
I've always had this weird feeling, this sensation inside of me that I was older than I actually was. By the time I was twelve, my soul felt as though it was forty. By the time I reached twenty, I felt like an old woman. I would watch people around my age acting foolish, and I always thought, "What a bunch of children." So it was no surprise to anyone that when I turned twenty-one, I left my hometown and college and decided to spend the summer alone by renting an old farmhouse in an insignificant town on the edge of an even more insignificant border.
When I told my mother, she had a veritable fit, unable to find the words. She spluttered and raged around me for days before I finally left early one morning to avoid her guilt and frustration with my choices. I was not sure why I craved solitude at such a young age, why I found solace in being alone and removed from society.
In high school, I had changed unexpectedly, cutting my long blonde hair short and dying it black, getting piercings that my mother loathed and claimed no young lady should have. You see, my mother was raised proper, as she called it. Good family, good husband, and finally a good life. She despised her perfect life being squashed by my alternative looks and feelings of the same world. She just didn't understand me or the world as it changed around her. I felt like I was just a trophy to her and my father, her perfect angel who had been tainted by my own demented thoughts.
I never told my parents where I was staying, one last rebellious mission before leaving for a few months, and it took me only a few hours to arrive at the farmhouse where I would be staying for the next few months. The land around the farm was dead or dying, old crops rose out of the dry dusty earth and had turned black and forgotten, as if this land was the example of dreams long forgotten and empty. A single dreary lane connected this desolate farmhouse to the rest of the world. On the outside, it was drab and looked as though it would fall apart. It had two stories but still seemed cramped and small, as if it were a single floor tied to the ground.
Across from the house, bordering the tall weeds that had reclaimed much of the farmland, stood a maudlin-looking faded red barn, one door propped open in a dejected manner revealing naught to me but shadows, dust, and a little mystery.
Next to the barn, staked into the ground on an old-looking cross, was a ragged scarecrow. It had drab brown clothing, but its face was oddly realistic, like it was watching me with a disapproving manner. Straw poked through its joints at odd angles like they were trying to break free from their confines. The scarecrow obviously didn't do its job as it was covered in no less than three crows.
I parked my car next to the barn and stepped out into the dusty yard before the farmhouse that I would make my home for the next few months. I checked under the front mat for the key and put it in the lock.
With a satisfying click, the door fell inward into the farmhouse. Surprisingly, the inside of the farmhouse was modern, clean, and looked quite inviting. I could smell the fresh paint on the walls, and everything was so white. The realtor had told me she would stop by tomorrow to collect the rent, and she had tried to chat my ear off on the phone about all the renovations she and her son were doing on the place.
I sighed with contentment and tossed my bags beside the door. I dug around in my bag and removed my camera, my father's old film shooter as he called it. I had taken up the hobby years ago for what I called capturing the oddity in the world.
I explored the small house a little more; the ground floor consisted of a single room and small bathroom with a shower. The bedroom was upstairs and was the only room, the stairs connected directly to the white and pink monstrosity that was the master bedroom. The pillows had laces on them and almost made me gag from the cuteness. There was even cute white lace curtains on the window with little flowers stitched onto them.
Out of the only window of the room, I could see the barn and the scarecrow. I aimed my camera at the pair and snapped a photo. From this angle, the scarecrow appeared to be staring straight at me. It stood next to the left side of the barn in a dejected manner like a chastised child.
A shudder involuntarily ran through me at the sight, but I moved on back downstairs. It was getting close to dinner time now, and I had brought some food with me.
After a few minutes, I had my dinner on the stove cooking and the crickets chirping outside the open window. As I sat down to eat next to the window, I felt at peace for one of the first times in years. The solitude of this old farm was exactly what I needed. The window supplied a nice breeze that wafted through the place, it smelled of grass and warm summer nights, made me feel at peace. The simple dish of spaghetti with tomato sauce and a glass of wine was all that I needed right here, right now in this moment.
That night I climbed into the frilly laced bed and sunk into the claustrophobic mattress. I felt like Goldilocks in the mama bear's bed as it was altogether too soft. From my perfumed bed, I had a good view out the window. I had left the porch light on, and it cast an eerie glow across the yard. The barn loomed ominously, stalwart against the light of the porch, like it was protecting the shadows from the battering ram of light. The somber scarecrow leaned against the left side of the barn.
With a small jump, I thought I saw its arm move slightly. I peered through my camera using the zoom to get a better view of the scarecrow. It was completely still in the night, and I laughed quietly to myself at my silliness. I had always enjoyed horror movies, but there was no chance I was living in one. I settled back into bed and put my camera down. Within a few minutes, I fell into sleep's warm embrace.
What felt like only a few minutes later, I sat up in bed. It was still dark out, I could hear crickets chirping through the open window, and I strained my ears for a moment.
I thought something had woken me up. I felt a cold shiver run down my spine as a cold breeze wafted in through the window. I pulled the frilly blanket up around myself when I heard it. A thud sounded below me, shaking the whole world into silence. The crickets stopped chirping, and my heart felt like it had stopped beating. Someone was in the house. I hadn't locked the door or closed the kitchen window, and now someone was downstairs. A second thud sounded like a boot on the staircase. Then another and another as something was slowly moving up the stairs towards the room.
I don't know why I did it, but something came over me. I wasn't big or especially brave, but my normal cowardice in social situations changed instantly. With a dash, I tore across the room, flicking on the lights, ready to face my attacker, to defend myself against male or female. I would fight, and I would win.
But as the lights turned on, ready to strike with my foot, nothing was there. The staircase was empty, and upon further inspection, the entire house was empty. The kitchen window was open, and I shut and locked it securely before checking the door. Nothing. I sat down on the couch, my heart pounding out of my chest, as I tried to make sense of what had just happened.
"I must have still been half-asleep," I said aloud to the room in a thinly veiled attempt to calm my nerves. It failed horribly, but I went with it. What else could you do in a situation like that?
After locking up the house, I went back up to that frilly four-poster bed in the bedroom and stared out the window. Nothing was in the yard except my car, the barn, and the same old sad-looking scarecrow staring across the yard.
Day 2
The next morning, I woke up to the soft light filtering through the lace curtains. Despite the strange events of the previous night, I felt strangely refreshed, as if the morning sun had chased away the shadows that lingered in my mind.
I descended the stairs, the wooden steps creaking softly under my weight, and headed to the kitchen. As I brewed a pot of coffee, my mind wandered back to the events of last night. Was it just a figment of my imagination, or was there really someone in the house?
Shaking off the unease, I decided to explore the farmhouse in the daylight. I wandered through the room, admiring the modern renovations that clashed with the rustic exterior. The farmhouse had a charm to it, despite its eerie surroundings.
As I made my way outside, the cool morning air greeted me, and I took a deep breath, letting the serenity of the countryside wash over me. The barn stood tall against the backdrop of the morning sky, and the scarecrow seemed to watch me as I crossed the yard.
I approached the barn, curiosity getting the better of me. Pushing open the creaky door, I stepped inside, the musty scent of hay filling my nostrils. The interior was dimly lit, the sunlight filtering through the cracks in the wooden walls.
I explored every nook and cranny of the barn, but found nothing out of the ordinary. As I turned to leave, something caught my eye. In the corner of the barn, hidden beneath a pile of old blankets, was a small wooden chest.
My heart racing with anticipation, I lifted the lid of the trunk and peered inside. What I found took my breath away. It was a collection of old photographs, yellowed with age, depicting scenes from a bygone era. They were of a man with his family, two young kids, and a beautiful young wife. The man had yellow blonde hair, almost like straw in texture, but he smiled so happily with his family.
I sifted through the photographs, my fingers trembling with excitement. Who had left these behind, and why? Each photograph seemed to tell a story, a glimpse into the past of this forgotten farmhouse.
As I sat there, lost in thought, a sudden noise jolted me back to reality. It was the sound of footsteps coming from outside the barn.
"Hello?" The dreamy voice of a woman called to me from the entrance to the barn.
I slammed the lid of the trunk shut, closing the memories up in a flurry as I spun around to be greeted by a quite pretty woman with blonde hair and a pink suit skirt combo. She had bright pink lipstick, that seemed to be a permanent fixture on her face, and quite shiny and sparkly blue eye shadow on her lids. I myself only wore black eyeliner. This woman was like Barbie in her proportions, thin waist, long hair, and large tracts of land, as my father would have said.
"Oh, hello," I said simply, always awkward in normal social situations.
If she noticed anything odd about me, she breezed over it in an easy manner. Taking me by the shoulders, she led me out of the dusty barn and into the yard.
"You must be Polly. We have been waiting a while for you to come. I simply must know what you think of the renovations to the house. Aren’t they just to die for?" The lady said all in one breath, as if she didn’t need air to speak.
"Yes, they are quite nice..." I started before she cut me off, not in a rude manner but instead in one that she would have continued on even if I had just told her I was not Polly and instead I was a mass murderer looming for my next victim.
"You see, me and my son Eli—yes, Eli, you stop lurking in the shadows over there," she said, continuing on as I noticed a younger man leaning up against the barn. He wore simple clothes of jeans and a white t-shirt but had a handsome face. His hair was brown and hung slightly over his eyes.
"I hope you don’t mind if my son here continues working on some renovations while you stay here? Strictly on the outside of the house, mind you. A fresh coat of white paint would make this little beauty shine. We would have finished by now if not for the accidents," she continued, completely unabashed by my silence.
"Sorry. But you are the realtor?" I said, trying to regain my feet under me.
"Oh my god, I am so sorry, dear!" she said with an affable cackle.
"Yes, yes, I am Barbara, but all my friends call me Barb. That over there is Eli. Eli, come say hi," Barb said while her painted talons rested firmly on my shoulder.
Eli stomped over, keeping his eyes low, in a sort of moody way that actually intrigued me, sort of.
When he glanced up at me, I noticed he drank in me from head to toe, and for the first time, I realized what I was wearing. An old rock t-shirt of one of my favorite bands and, of all things, my black pajama bottoms with cartoon bats on them that said "happy halloween."
I felt my face blush crimson as he made eye contact with me. He had very mysterious eyes of blue that seemed to cut right through my soul.
"Nice shirt," he said while gesturing to me. His voice was quiet and uncertain, as if he didn’t get much practice with the art. Knowing his mother, it seemed highly accurate.
"Thanks. Do you like them?" I asked.
"Oh, he likes all sorts of things, don’t you, Eli? Honestly, you two can gab on forever. But miss, I believe we have a small matter of payment," Barb said, drawing the conversation back to herself.
"Of course. Let me go get it," I said as I went back into the house and retrieved the envelope with the rent money in it.
Barb grabbed the envelope in her bright pink talons and snapped a piece of bubblegum between her teeth. With quick fingers, she leafed through the cash, counting it. As she counted, her normal bubbly personality seemed to disappear, giving way to what I gleaned was her true thoughts and feelings before the facade slipped on once again.
"Mmkay, perfect honey, this is the right amount. Now you have my number, so you call if you need anything. Like I said earlier, Eli will stop by from time to time to work on painting the house. I promise you he won’t be an imposition, just pay him no mind," Barb said in a sweet voice as she popped her gum in between each word.
"Eli, come on, please, I have an appointment in town," Barb said to her son, and they both climbed into a garish pink convertible with jewels hanging from the mirror wrapped in a gold chain.
Barb waved one last time as she sped off out of the driveway, covering me in dust as she spun the wheel around.
With their departure, I went inside and retrieved my camera. I spent a few minutes shooting a few pictures I thought were worthy. I re-entered the barn and pulled the old trunk out into the sunshine. Inside was only a handful of photos, some old clothes, and what looked like some old heirlooms. A beautifully old candlestick and a few leather-bound books lay at the bottom, covered by an old tablecloth. The tablecloth was a nice white with intricate swirling patterns inlaid around the edges.
Why would these things be packed away in here? They were so beautiful. I decided to bring the stuff inside for further inspection. As I lifted the trunk, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw something move in the tall grass at the edge of the property. I stared for a minute, but nothing moved again. I must be getting jumpy being alone like this. After last night and then this, I was just imagining things.
I brought the items inside and spread them out. I put the tablecloth on the table, and it hung low to the ground. I placed the candlestick by the window and took out the photos again, spreading them out.
The photos told me a story of a loving family that obviously lived in the farmhouse before me. They had a photo next to the barn, with a brand new looking scarecrow in the back. The man even had his arm around it; it looked so much cleaner and proper in this photo. I stared outside at the sad-looking scarecrow.
I took my camera and the photo and went outside to stand next to the scarecrow. His post hung kind of crooked in the earth like it was weighed down by the scarecrow.
I snapped a photo of the scarecrow as it was, then examined the original photo. I began resettling the post in the ground, but it kept sagging. I decided to pull him out of the ground and move him while I added more dirt to his hole. With some effort, I reseated him into his original hole. He already looked better, but I straightened his clothes and pulled out the last bits of straw that stuck out of his clothes. When I was finished, I looked back at him and took a photo, smiling while I did so at my work.
I then spent some time sweeping the front porch and banging the dust out of the cushions before I curled up on a wicker chair with plump cushions for a few hours reading a book I had brought with me.
I felt quite content at this place. The sounds of the crickets began again, putting me at ease as the sun began to descend. I had spent the entire day just relaxing, and it was perfect. I sat sprawled out in the chair, too lazy to go and make dinner or even move. My bladder was full, but I waited until the last moment before dashing inside and relieving myself.
That's when I noticed it, out in the yard. It seemed as if the scarecrow had moved closer. Once shrouded by the barn slightly, it now had moved a few steps into the light from the porch. My heart dropped at the sight. Not again, I must be asleep on the porch in the chair. I pinched myself, trying to wake up, but all I received was a sore arm.
I closed my eyes, then rubbed them, hoping to dispel whatever plagued my mind, but when I opened my eyes, I noticed the scarecrow was even closer. Halfway across the yard now, it sat menacingly, hanging crooked in the dirt. The scarecrow seemed to be staring at me with an intense gaze. The slits in its face were open now, and in the porch light, I swear I could see human eyes underneath the mask.
I moved towards the front door, locking it in a swift motion. I was shaking now, and it took me a minute to relax. I never took my eyes off the scarecrow for fear of it moving again.
My cellphone was upstairs, so I couldn't flee without the scarecrow moving again. I breathed out slightly and unlocked the door, letting it swing in with a creak. The night outside was silent, as if everything was holding its breath. The usual crickets that plagued me with their song day and night had fallen quiet. I stepped out onto the porch; I needed to go confront this demonic entity. Something about this still made me think this was a prank.
"Eli, is that you?" I called out to the scarecrow.
No response, of course. I steeled myself and put one foot off the porch, never taking my eyes off the scarecrow before me. Something seemed to be dripping from its head as I approached, a dark slime that seemed to be melting from its joints as it stood there silently, except for the constant drip of the liquid on the dry dirt before me.
I walked around the scarecrow, determined to figure out what was going on. As I circled it, my vision darkened for a moment as I faced towards the light of the house. I jumped as the scarecrow's head turned to face me as I looked away. The black liquid drained faster from the being, forming a shallow pool at its feet.
I'm not proud of what I did next, but I fled, taking my eyes off the scarecrow. I made a mad dash for the farmhouse. Behind me, I could hear the pounding of feet. I screamed as loud as my lungs would let me. My voice rang through the silence as I grabbed the door handle and wrenched open the door as I felt a strong grip fall on my shoulder.
I turned to defend myself, but nothing was there. The scarecrow was gone, the wooden cross had vanished, as had the pool of dark liquid in the dirt. The world sprung back to life; the crickets began chirping loudly, and my heart restarted. I slammed the door, and the air from my force scattered the photographs on the table. I ran upstairs, leaving the lights on in the house, and dove onto the bed, wrapping myself in the frilly blanket like a set of frilly armor.
I snatched my camera from the bedside table and held it close, determined to document the rest of the night. I held it in shaking hands as the noise downstairs began—the sound of boots crossing the floor to the stairs and the careful but heavy steps of ascension as they climbed closer and closer to me.
This time, I didn't lunge forward as the light was already on. I glanced out the window, but the scarecrow was still gone. I focused my camera on the stairs and waited as the steps came closer and closer. A shape began to form as the head of whatever was coming up the stairs crested the floor. Then a plain brown mask with slits where the eyes would be. It froze for a moment, then slowly turned its head towards me. Inside the slits were human eyes that seemed to be leaking dark red blood.
In the light, I could see it now. I snapped a photo of the beast, the flash setting off a reaction in the beast. The scarecrow moved so fast up the stairs it was a blur. My scream echoed throughout the house as it lunged at me. Filthy hands pinned me down, and the deep crimson liquid began pouring out of every joint of the scarecrow. It began covering my face, my eyes, and getting into my open mouth. I spluttered and kicked at the beast, but my blows had no purchase, as if the scarecrow on top of me had no substance to itself.
I coughed and spluttered on the liquid as it began to fill my mouth faster and faster. I tried not to swallow any, but it tried to find purchase as I was held down.
"Polly?" A nervous voice called from below.
Suddenly, as if the angels had called, the pressure dissipated, and I crashed to the floor in a heap, trying to spit the blood out, but nothing came—it was gone. Footsteps pounded up the stairs again, and I flew back in fear, closing my eyes.
"Oh my god. Polly, are you okay?" A voice said, and gentle hands grabbed my arm.
My eyes shot open at the human touch, and I grabbed Eli into a tight hug, where I promptly began sobbing in fear, my whole body shaking as Eli awkwardly hugged me.
"Don't worry, it's going to be okay," Eli said patiently to me as he hugged me back gently and began stroking my back.
I shivered in a choking sob and fell into his arms, desperately wanting to believe him, and for some reason, I did.

I didn’t realize there was cameras in this household. They said they don’t check them , but I’m paranoid. I did it once but that’s all it takes 👀 now I do it in the bathroom but I’m paranoid there’s a hidden camera in here too. No one else is here.

its hard to describe my account. i get asked a lot what type of content i do.
suggestions?
i basically record with a drone and camera my part of the city ( south la ) and try to showcase some hidden gems here and there. the videos is showing the beauty because its a part of town looked down upon alot by outsiders.
i get thousands of views up to 1 mil on a video but average 10-40k views and ton of engagement
how can i describe my account to potential partnerships?

Hey iPhone, I'm hoping this is best subreddit to post this in and hopefully I can receive unbiased answers as I, myself am unbiased having owned Android, iPhone, and even Windows Phone.
I'm currently running Android because my first and foremost choice of phone is whichever has the best camera which also means I have 0 brand loyalty. My current phone is a Xiaomi Ultra and although its camera is noticeably superior to what I dub the "mainstream flagships" (iPhone Pro Max, Pixel Pro, and Galaxy S Ultra), it failed to cross my mind that an Android manufacturer could limit customizability. This is unfortunately the case with Xiaomi so it's in a weird twilight zone between Android and iOS for customizability. Due to this issue, I found myself thinking "if I can't freely customize my phone, I'm essentially running an iPhone so perhaps I can try iOS again?" (along with salivating over the Vivo X100 Ultra).
The iPhone I am looking at is obviously the 15 Pro Max as it has the best camera out of all the iPhones; I acknowledge its camera will be a noticeable downgrade from my current phone and I have (mostly) resigned myself to this fact. However, I do have quite a few questions regarding the OS/phone itself as it has been years since my last iPhone.

1. Living Images/Motion Photos/Top Shot/Live Photos. These moving images can not be shot using the phone's maximum megapixels on the Androids I've had (Google, Samsung, and Xiaomi) and only when shooting in 12MP which is obviously a subpar shot when compared to one taken with its full resolution/sensor. Is this limitation also on iPhone?
   
2. iTunes. Is this still required to do things on the phone? I absolutely loathed iTunes when I had an iPhone.
   
3. App placement. I know there's minimal customization on iOS but at the very minimum I'd like to put apps wherever I want (i.e. home screen with only 2 rows of apps at the bottom and a widget at the top). Is this truly not possible?
   
4. Gestures/back button. I love swiping in from the right (←) edge of the screen to go back (and a curved screen makes that feeling so much more luxurious). Is it true you can only swipe in from the left (→) edge of the screen to go back and not from the right (←)? I always swipe in from the right as I'm right-handed and the opposite side doesn't make sense unless the individual is left-handed.
   
5. Volume. Is it true you can't have different volumes for different apps/notifications?
   
6. Notifications. I hear a lot of hate about about iOS' notification system but as I don't have one, I can't fathom what makes it so much worse than Android. Can someone explain or is it overblown?
   
7. Keyboard. I also hear a lot of hate for the default keyboard but you can (still) download alternative keyboard right?
   

Lastly, is there anything an iPhone does exceedingly better than an Android? Asides from OS updates as the newer Androids reach 7 years promised plus I can always install custom ROMs, or better ecosystem communication as I actively try not to be confined to a singular ecosystem.
I'm sure there are hidden gems of functions that I've overlooked since my last iPhone.
TIA!

Hello everyone, been dying to remember the name of this childhood game I used to play. I would greatly appreciate any help. Thank you!
Platform: PC (Windows 98 or XP) Genre: Puzzle/Hidden objects/Western Estimated release: Early 2000s or late 90s Graphics: Pre-rendered 2D with a top-view camera style when walking around the map, but first person when interacting with buildings/NPCs Notable characters: In each scenario/town you had to solve puzzles and help NPCs, and the objective was to catch a wild west famous bandit (ex: Billy the Kid and Jesse James), I remember the wanted posters and short information about each criminal. Notable gameplay mechanics: On one level you had to solve certain puzzles around the town to disarm a bomb that was setup by one of the wanted criminals (maybe in a train wagon), at the bottom right corner of this town there was an Indian camp where you could get a mission and collect further information on the criminal's whereabouts. On another level there was a train bridge blown up by a criminal, your objective was to fix this bridge, and for that you needed to understand and crack a telegraph message to recieve the missing lumber for the bridge repair. Those two levels were the ones that stuck with me, but I don't remember if you were a sherrif or just a helpfull citizen, also during these levels you had to find hidden or stolen objects which would permit the story progression. I remember that there were NPCs to interact with who helped and gave hints. Other notable information: This game featured short cutsceens and NPC recorded dialogue.

I am a Lovecraft fan and did you read his “The Shadow Out of Time”? I think that JJ has peculiar similarities to the Flying Polyp race. (There, Flying Polyps were extraterrestrial race which devoured and exterminated another alien race named there as Yithians or The Great Race) It’s just a speculation I made for fun, nothing special. Just compared two aliens. For fun.

1. I always wondered why no remains/prints of the Yithians were found anywhere (according to the lore of the story). If the Polyps had the similar digestive tracts as JJ has, then there was nothing left of the devoured victim. Literally. They digest everything. No bones/cartilage/other hard parts for you, no waste products, they spit out metal or so as much as possible.

Devoured to nothing.

1. Returning to the first: the weapon of the Great Race against the Polyps. Polyps are only vulnerable to electricity. Jean Jacket, according to the canon, flies due to the electromagnetic field that he creates himself (obviously for this he has a special organ, I suspect it places somewhere on the sides and on the top like stingrays have), this is also why he interfered with the electronics. Let's say the Yithians used weapons that resonated/oppositely suppressed/something like that with the field of the Polyps. Then, if we consider JJ, these interferences not only deprived him of normal movement and they fell down, at least it could directly harm their organs, because if they flew due to this field, then it is clear that other systems of their body also depend on it. They could have been paralyzed by such a blow, or killed outright. That is, yes, this is indeed a very effective weapon against Jean Jacket
   
2. Polyps controlled the winds and other things. Well, everything is simple here: this is a beautiful metaphor for how JJ eats sand and creates winds and hurricanes. This is literally what he did in his spare time.
   
3. Polyps left huge marks on the ground (without touching it) Idk, can we say that JJ has an image of a flying saucer? -> reference to crop circles -> back to the Polyp tracks? Maybe these traces are a consequence of the influence of the JJ’s electromagnetic field, which interacts to the surface sand when he flies close above the ground, like Chladni’s patterns
   
4. The polyps are semi-material and freely mixed through the air, and their shapes are indescribable.
   

Let's assume that the shape of a flying saucer is not necessary for the JJ-likes. In his open form, he indeed looks somewhat semi-material, and his body is very unusually shaped and truly indescribable. And moving through the air is quite feasible for him thanks to the field + the fact that he is light.

1. But the saucer shape is already a modification, which allows him to quickly cut through the sky. Yes, exactly in the form in which he appeared in the end, he will not be able to fly quickly, this is the most non-aerodynamic form. But if he shrinks into a disk, it will be easier for it to fly at supersonic speeds. Let me remind you that he is probably very heavy, what makes a multi-ton predator need extra drag in an indescribable form. Plus it's easier to hide.

But the same Lovecraft had no talk of any plates. Well, yes, but they didn’t have to: there were a lot of them, you don’t need to hide or hunt, your crowd won’t drive you crazy

1. «…and of strange winds and whistling noises associated with them. And I thought of the tales, wherein the horror of great winds and nameless subterrene ruins was dwelt upon...» (quote from the story) This is an addition to point 5 (winds). But about the sounds: JJ has a very wide vocal range of sounds. In reality, they are whistling, clicking, grinding, etc.

«And all the while cold fingers of damp vapour clutched and picked at me, and that eldritch, damnable whistling shrieked fiendishly above all the alternations of babel and silence in the whirlpools of darkness around.»(quote from the story) Those moments where JJ eats people are really similar. It creates a wind current to suck in the victim.

1. Flying polyps are an aggressive and predatory species. It is unknown how intelligent they are. Having no vision, they felt in some special way through any matter. Yes, Jean Jacket is very aggressive. Fact. Especially if you make a visual contact with him. But even without this, he's crazy. Yes, in the film's FD, of course, it is generally accepted that Jacket is just an animal. I used to think so too. But now it seems to me that his behavior is more aggressive than animalistic. At the very least, he did some things and clearly did them on purpose. Yes, destroying the Jupe’s show is an act of aggression. Drenching OJ's house with blood (intentionally! He deliberately vomited all over his ranch) is an act of aggression. Gobbling up a reporter and flying above OJ, while the guy is screaming inside Jeans' stomach is an act of aggression. And much more, as well as the intonation of some of its sounds. Yes, JJ is not a ruthless monster. But then he clearly went on the offensive and tried to show his dominance here. This also supports the first scene of the film with Gordy: the monkey lived calmly until he went crazy from the constant abuse and killed everyone. In fact, JJ demonstrates aggression only for the reason that your “attention” to him drives him crazy and he is mad, cuz that Jupe allegedly “deceived” him. That is, we clearly have awareness and he enjoys his “revenge.” And he is mad by the fact that they are looking at him, it drives him into rage, just like Polyps. Or how aggressively he behaved when he saw the ball. The whole bitch is exhausted. Remark: I know that all the actions of JJ also can be explained that he wanted to lubricate his throat/hungry/etc but let it be, of course that’s all true, I just want to note that the fact that he are the horse decoy instead of real horse made him suffer from pain and made him aggressive, really agressive towards the person who “fed” him before and the whole crowd from the SLE only made it worse
   
2. Lack of vision in Polyps. Yes, it seems like the plates don’t even have glasses (but he still has something like eyes, but it’s still, like, and these “eyes” are well hidden)
   

Not sure if I understood the sales rep correctly so wanted to confirm with the community if I heard correctly over call and if this is something ADT does - ADT is offering a self monitoring option after 1 month of monitoring. This would include the app and whatever costs associated with the hardware (Nest doorbell, outdoor cameras, sensors for windows and doors). The rep said after the first month can discontinue professional monitoring and have it “month to month” if needed. Are there any other monthly hidden costs associated with ADT that I am missing?

Yup u heard it idk if that’s legally allowed for management to set up hidden cameras. One day recently we had a technician come in to fix cameras in foh, today I overheard my shift manager telling a partner that the store manager let the shifts know that the manager had the technician put up hidden cameras in boh. i live texas btw idk thats approved by corporate to do that or not ( btw not the cameras where it shows registers only i'm talking about hidden camera without anyones knowledge where it is at the manager is not disclosing where its at)

Yup u heard it idk if that’s legally allowed for management to set up hidden cameras. One day recently we had a technician come in to fix cameras in foh, today I overheard my shift manager telling a partner that the store manager let the shifts know that the manager had the technician put up hidden cameras in boh. i live texas btw idk thats approved by corporate to do that or not ( btw not the cameras where it shoes registers only i'm talking about hidden camera without anyones knowledge where it is at the manager is not disclosing where its at)

Link to original nosleep post:
https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/1cq87q1/im_a_single_mom_i_never_knew_who_the_donor_was/
It all started when I got divorced at the age of thirty-nine, and was left with a choice.
Return to the dating "circuit," as my single girl friends would jokingly refer to it, and take my chances on finding a man ready to jump right into having a family, or explore alternative means of having a child... on my own.
"On my own." The very sound of it terrified me, but when I thought about starting a relationship all over again after ten long years of trying to salvage one, going it alone didn't sound so bad.
And so...
...The next day, I began looking into artificial insemination by way of an anonymous sperm donation.
...A week after that, I was at a fertility clinic, looking through a database containing profiles of potential anonymous donors and making arrangements for a procedure...
...A month after that, I was pregnant...
...And nine months after that, I was giving birth to my beautiful baby boy... David.
And while I didn't know who David's biological father was, it didn't matter. I was his mother. He was my son. And we were in it together.
That is, until almost seven years later, when I received a call from an unknown number, that would change my life forever.
"Hello?" I answered.
"Is this Mary Birch?" A man asked on the other line.
"Yes, this is she..." I replied, prepared to hang up at the earliest sign of spam risk.
"The same Mary Birch who received an artificial insemination from an anonymous sperm donor seven years ago tomorrow?"
Fuck. I thought to myself, assuming that after all these years, the anonymous donor himself had suddenly come looking for me... or worse... David.
"This is Ryan McDonald. I was a nurse at the fertility clinic where you chose your anonymous donor and underwent your procedure."
"Okay..." I replied, unsure of where he was going with it.
"Mary, I'm not sure exactly how to tell you this... but there's something you need to know about David."
"What?"
"And I need to tell you before tomorrow."
—
Later that night, I was sitting at a diner, texting David's babysitter his dietary restrictions, while at the same time researching where to rent a bouncy house for his seventh birthday the next day, when Ryan McDonald sat down in the booth across from me.
He didn't look familiar, but in my defense, it had been almost seven years, and it wasn't like I ever got to know any of the countless nurses I had met during the process.
"This is going to be difficult to hear..." Ryan began, before taking a deep breath. "But David isn't the only child conceived using his biological father's sperm."
"Fair enough. I always knew there was a chance that there were others out there." I replied, relieved to hear what I assumed was why he brought me there.
But my assumption was very wrong.
"Yeah but the thing is..." He added, before hesitating, and then leaning in to whisper to me. "The others... There's something very wrong with them."
"Oh, well I guess I lucked out then." I said defensively, "'Cause David is the most level headed child. I honestly couldn't have asked for a more well behaved kid."
"See that's the thing..." Ryan continued, "So were they... Until their seventh birthdays."
"Seventh birthdays? Well, what happened then?"
"They... turned."
"Turned into what?"
"Killers."
I stopped for a minute and went completely silent, as he looked at me sympathetically...
...Until I suddenly burst out laughing.
"Killers? That's a good one! Hold on." I called out, as I looked around the diner, "Where are the hidden cameras? You're pranking me, right?"
"I'm afraid not, Mary."
That's when he pulled out the newspaper clippings.
There were nine stories in total, about nine different children. Each one having either gone on a killing spree, or attempted to, just after turning seven years old. And, according to Ryan, each one a child of "The Donor," as he kept referring to him.
"David, from what we know, is the tenth, and final child." He concluded, as he put the clippings back in his pocket.
The whole thing was all so overdramatic, so far-fetched, and so disrespectful to both me and my son... that whatever amusement I was finding in it, had long faded away. Instead... it was actually starting to piss me off.
"If you'll excuse me, Mr. McDonald, I'd better be going. I'm afraid your joke has gone a little too far." I declared with a scowl, as I grabbed my purse and stormed away.
"Wait!" He called out. "We need to talk about "The Donor.""
But I'd already made up my mind.
—
By the time I got home, David was fast asleep in his bedroom, and the babysitter was anxiously waiting to leave. After handing her some cash and heading upstairs, I got ready for bed, and put on some reality TV, to help get my mind off the bizarre, and unsettling encounter at the diner.
But when the clock struck midnight, and it officially became David's seventh birthday, I couldn't help but be reminded of Ryan's warning.
"See that's the thing... So were they... Until their seventh birthdays."
"Don't worry about it. It's just a bunch of nonsense." I whispered to myself, as I pulled the comforter over my head, shut off the light, and turned in for the night.
But just as I was falling asleep, I was suddenly awoken by a strange noise emanating from the hallway, specifically David's bedroom.
Cracking the door and tiptoeing down the hall, I slowly approached it.
And as I got closer, and closer, and closer...
...The noise grew louder, and louder, and louder...
...Until I reached the door to David's room, and was able to hear the sound more clearly. It was a growling noise, accented by what sounded like howling and drooling.
Surely, Ryan was right, and there was, in fact, something wrong with David. I thought to myself, terrified by what might have come over him.
I stood there for a moment, frozen in place, not knowing what to do.
Until I eventually worked up the courage to grab the doorknob and fling open the door....
...Only to find David curled up in bed, watching a horror movie, its hero on the verge of being devoured by a zombie.
Phew. I thought to myself, realizing that the film was the source of the unsettling sounds that I'd heard. Before my relief turned to anger.
"David! What are you doing? It's way past your bedtime!"
"Sorry, mom!" My son replied, looking even more scared than the movie's main character, and than I had just been, as he scrambled to find the clicker and turn off the TV.
Then I remembered that it was David's birthday, and suddenly felt bad, so I decided to let him watch TV until the movie ended, under one condition. That he be on his best behavior at his birthday party the next day.
—
But despite our agreement, when David's seventh birthday party commenced in our backyard the next day, something came over him that I'd never seen before.
A strange irritability. A temper that, had I not seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed he was capable of.
Seemingly out of nowhere, after showing his friend Bobby one of his birthday gifts, he suddenly snatched it back and yelled, "Give it back! It's not yours, it's mine!" Before shoving him to the ground.
"David!" I screamed, as Bobby's eyes welled up, and the other moms looked on in surprise. "That's enough! Now get inside and go to your room! Until I say otherwise!"
"But mom!" He cried back.
"I said go! Now!" I insisted.
But rather than continue to argue, his face suddenly turned blank and he simply walked back inside.
"Are you okay, Bobby?" I asked his friend, who had just picked himself up off the ground, and appeared to be fine, before turning to Bobby's mother, Roxy. "I am so sorry about that. I have no idea what's gotten into him."
But Roxy didn't say anything. She just stood there, silently, her mouth agape and her eyes wide in fear, as she looked over my shoulder.
I turned around...
...To find David, standing at the door to the backyard, holding a steak knife.
"David..." I began to scold him, but he had already come charging at me, as the rest of the party goers cried out in horror.
Now it's important to know why my husband had left so many years ago. Truth is, he had a terrible temper, and was prone to psychological and emotional abuse. He had never laid a finger on me, until one day, when, in the middle of a fight, he seemingly out of nowhere, picked up a kitchen knife and threatened to use it on me. Suffice to say, a month later, we had filed for divorce.
Which is why, in that moment, as my child held one of his own, repeating history, I simply...
...Froze...
...As he grew closer... and closer... and closer, raising his weapon in the air, ready to strike.
But before he was able to bring the knife down on me, suddenly a hand emerged out of nowhere and caught his arm, freezing his blade in midair, just an inch from my face.
And when I turned to investigate who had saved me from my child...
...I saw Ryan McDonald standing there, a look of sorrow in his eyes, as if to say, "Told ya so."
But all he said was, "We have to talk about "The Donor.""

Hello, Just recently got an F150 lightning and I’m looking for the best dash cam for it. Want something that’s front and back (if it can do inside the cabin bonus). I do live on a ranch so the truck spends a lot of time out on the sun. Picture quality would prefer 4k or close to it due to dust causing issues with lower quality cameras (found this or the hard way with home security).
As for storage it doesn’t matter to me if it requires an SD Card or I can use my phone(laptop).
Thank you in advance.

Link to original nosleep post:
https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/1b5iszd/my_wife_and_i_got_cast_in_a_reality_show_pilot/
I had just wrapped work on a Friday night, when my wife, Cara, first told me about the ad.
"I don't know how long I can work for this guy anymore." I said to her, closing my laptop for the weekend.
"Alan?" She replied.
"Yeah. He's such a prick. Everything's urgent, and everything's a fire drill. Until he doesn't care about it anymore."
"You know what you should do?"
"What?"
"Kick his ass."
"I wish. But you know full well that I don't have a threatening bone in my body. I'm a lover not a fighter." I said with a wink.
"Oh, that reminds me! Speaking of lovers." My wife said with a smile, pulling out her phone. "Look at this."
Taking the phone from her hand, I saw that she had saved a job posting.
"New Reality Series Seeks Married Couples For Chance To Win Once In A Lifetime Prize."
At first, I scoffed at it. Having been happily married for a few years now, and both of us gainfully employed, I was pretty confident that neither my wife nor I sought money or fame. We already had everything a couple could ever want.
"Why would we ever go on a reality show?" I asked.
"Keep reading," Cara replied, pointing to the bottom of the posting.
I did as she suggested.
"The winning couple will receive a once in a lifetime chance to work with one of the best fertility doctors in the world, to aid them in having a child."
Okay, maybe we didn't quite have everything a couple could want.
I looked at my wife. "Enticing, yes. But I mean, what are the chances we'd actually get cast?"
"Hey, you can't win if you don't play, right?" Cara replied, "And what other choice do we have?"
She had a point. We'd been trying to conceive for a few years, but no matter the approach, whether natural, IUI, or IVF, you name it, the outcome was always the same.
It was the one thing we didn't have. The one thing, save for surrogacy or adoption, that money couldn't buy...
...Having a child of our own.
And so...
...The next day, we reached out to the production company's nondescript email address...
...A couple days later, we heard back...
...And a week later, we found ourselves on a video call with a casting director, attempting to sell her on why they should choose us as one of the five couples competing in their pilot, and why we deserved the prize.
But my wife and I both left the meeting thinking we botched it, each of us walking away with the same feeling that one gets after a flubbed job interview.
And so, we both resolved to go back to our lives. Back to being realistic about the situation. And even started looking into some adoption agencies.
That is, until a week later, when Cara and I received an email from the production company...
...Informing us that we were selected to participate in the reality show pilot!
A few signed contracts, NDAs, and talent release forms later, and my wife and I were off on an all-expense paid trip to Los Angeles.
I remember pulling into the parking lot of the production studio that first day, and finding it a bit strange that a TV show would be filmed in such a rundown, dilapidated warehouse. But I knew nothing about production, and chalked it up to budgetary constraints. And, after all, we had already traveled too far, and there was too much on the line, to turn back now.
Upon entering the building's lobby, we were immediately welcomed in by the show's producer, Phil, whose warm greeting through his medical mask, quickly turned sour, "You're late! Literally the last couple to arrive! Hurry, hurry! Follow me! We're about to start!"
I thought it a bit rude, and noticed a concerned look wash over Cara's face. But then I remembered it was our fault, after all, that we underestimated LA traffic, so I bit my tongue.
Phil then confiscated both of our cell phones, before escorting us out of the lobby, down a long hallway, around a corner, and into a massive lounge, lit by professional lights, with five couches scattered about. Four of which were occupied by other couples, who were sitting there, patiently waiting, when we finally entered the room.
"So sorry!" I called out to them, while simultaneously waving "Hello," as I sat down in one of the loveseats.
"Thanks for your patience!" Cara added, as she took a seat beside me.
But our peers and competitors didn't even have a chance to react, as Phil suddenly ran into the room with a similarly masked production crew of about ten individuals, and got right down to business.
I thought it strange that they were all masked, assuming that covid regulations had long ended, but before I could dwell on the details too much, Phil yelled out, "Alright, places people! Sound!"
"Speed!" A few masked sound guys yelled back, as they hit record on their audio devices and aimed their boom microphones at the front of the room.
"Camera!" Phil continued.
"Speeding!" Several masked camera men replied, in unison, each carrying a broadcast camera on their shoulder.
"Slate!" Phil added, as a masked production assistant ran up to the front of the room, where there was a set of two doors on the far wall, and a door to the side that must have led offstage. He then opened his clapboard, for all of the cameras and microphones to see and hear.
I wondered why they hadn't filled out the section on the clapboard where the first take would go, but my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of it clapping.
CLAP!
Then Phil gestured to what must have been the director, who was hanging back in the shadows, his features hidden in the dark, outside of the set's bright lights.
"Action!" The director yelled out for all to hear.
And then...
...There was silence.
All of us couples looked at each other with a smile, literally on the edge of our seats, when suddenly, we heard the voice of a middle aged man ring out over the speakers that had been mounted to the ceiling of the lounge. "Ladies and gentlemen! Who's excited to make history?"
The cameras turned to the ten participants, including Cara and myself, and we all immediately started clapping and whistling, before they turned back to the man.
"I'm your anonymous host, four time husband, and five time divorcee!"
The group erupted in laughter, cheering him on, as they looked up at the speakers.
"And you know what? I'm not proud of that. Cause, much like you, deep down inside, I want to love and be loved. To have the fortitude, the patience, and the will to fight on through good times and bad, all in the name of love. Which is why I've brought you all here. Yes, you! Give yourselves a round of applause!" He said, before pausing to allow us all to react.
And so we did, all the couples clapping and smiling.
"Yes, I'm here, hosting and watching remotely, to learn from the five happily married couples before us, what the secret is to persevering through the challenges that life throws our way. To see what ends you'll all go to in support of your marriage, and if you'll do... anything for love. Ladies and gentlemen. Welcome... to Anything For Love."
Everyone let out a nervous laugh, but kept applauding anyway.
"And now... it's time for the rules. In this reality competition, the first of its kind, you'll be split up into two groups, five men and five women, and separated from each other for the duration of the game. Over the course of the show, both teams will compete in four challenges, with each challenge resulting in one loser, who will be promptly eliminated. At the end of the game, the winning player from each team will be revealed. If those two players are not members of the same couple, then no one wins. But if those two players happen to be members of the same couple, they win the game, and a once in a lifetime prize... The chance to work with one of the best fertility doctors in the world, to aid them in having a child. So before we begin, let me ask you this... Are you prepared to do anything for love?"
His voice blasted out from the speakers with so much enthusiasm, and so much energy, that in that moment, every single one of us hopped up out of our seats, and began cheering and clapping.
Eventually, the applause faded, and our host continued, "Now, will the men please line up on the left side of the room, and the women on the right?"
The couples did exactly as he asked, and when we had finally split up into two groups, men and women, our host simply said. "Now goodluck! And I can't wait to see who makes it to the end!"
Suddenly, the two doors at the front of the room opened, and each group was escorted by a masked production assistant through one of the doors, separating the husbands from the wives, until that fateful moment at the end of the show, when only the two winners will be reunited.
For the first couple games, I didn't know where they took the wives, or what kind of challenges my own wife was facing. All I knew were the games they presented to us husbands.
Games that were, let's just say...
...Utterly fucked.
As all five men entered the room for the first game, we all saw before us, a massive open factory space, that had been adorned with only one simple piece of art direction at its center... a small wooden table.
"Will the contestants please make their way to the table." The host called out over this room's ceiling-mounted speakers.
We did as he said, as the masked camera crew followed us to the center of the room.
"The rules of game one are simple. In marriage, you must sometimes sacrifice a piece of yourself, for the greater good. Today, that sacrifice... is your wedding ring. But not just your wedding ring... your entire ring finger!"
The five guys and myself all turned to one another and chuckled, assuming he was kidding.
But suddenly, a door opened into the factory, and a masked crew member proceeded to walk over to the table holding a steak knife.
He didn't say anything, and simply stared at us through his mask, as the host continued.
"The last person to cut their finger off, or the first to give up, is the loser. And will be promptly escorted from the premises."
What the fuck. I thought to myself, realizing the host wasn't kidding.
"Wait a minute," a few of the men mumbled.
But one of them, the most obnoxious in the group, could not have been less afraid, puffing out his chest and yelling into a camera, "Fine! I'll go first. I aint afraid."
He then slammed his hand down on the table, clenching his fist in a way that only exposed his ring finger.
There was a brief moment of silence until...
...Suddenly the masked crew member grabbed the husband's hand and brought down his blade so hard, that it cut the man's finger clean off, blood spraying all over the table.
It took the arrogant man a moment to process what had just happened, before he started screaming in pain, a scream that turned into a maniacal laugh, as medical staff ran over to tend to his wound.
Meanwhile, the rest of us guys looked on in horror, as we saw blood pouring from his hand, and realized we were next.
The wounded husband then looked directly into one of the cameras and defiantly said, "That was nothing." Before turning back to us and asking, "Come on. Who's next fellas?"
Two more of the men begrudgingly followed suit, each of their ring fingers being severed from their hands, leaving just myself and one husband left.
We were both shaking in fear, but the other guy was terrified, that he started begging the producer for a way out. "Wait you can't be serious? We really need to do that? Please. Please don't make me.
"The show is called Anything For Love." Phil replied. "And you signed paperwork that warned you things like this would come up."
"I didn't read that!" The nervous man yelled back.
But before he even had a chance to consider participating, I must have accidentally leaned on the table with my hand.
"Wait!" The nervous man yelled out...
...But it was too late. Before either he or I noticed, the masked man had already amputated my ring finger, blood spraying everywhere, as I let out a great scream that echoed throughout the factory.
And as the medical staff ran over to me, just as they had done for the others who had gone before me, I heard the host's voice on the speakers again. "Congratulations, gentlemen! Four of you have shown that you'll do anything for love. While the fifth, did not have what it takes, and must now return home."
And like that, a couple masked production assistants grabbed the nervous man by the shoulders, and escorted him out of the room.
It was in the aftermath of that first game, that I realized the title of the show, "Anything For Love," was not just a play on words, but the literal description of what we would need to do to win.
And then, the host continued.
"Will the remaining four husbands please walk through the open door, and into the next room."
We did as he asked.
On the way there, I looked down at my missing finger, its stump wrapped in gauze, and couldn't help but wonder if Cara had also been forced to make the same choice, and if she had gone through with it.
When we entered the second room, we all saw another giant warehouse space. Except this time, instead of being sparse, it was completely overgrown with shrubs of thorny vines, separating where we stood, from the other side.
"Love is both a rose, but also has thorns." The host called out over the room's speakers. "It can make you feel euphoric pleasure, but at the same time extreme pain. In game two, you'll need to prove that you can overcome that pain to get to the other side, and make it to game three. The last person to crawl through the thorns, or the first person to give up, will be promptly eliminated from the show and removed from the premises. Will you do anything for love? The game starts... now."
The four husbands all looked at each other, then back at the thorns, then back at each other, before the arrogant man, who was standing beside me, made me a proposition. "Let's team up. If we follow the same path, we can take turns, one of us pushing forward for a while, then the other, and it'll save us half the pain.”
But I didn't like the idea of cheating, or supporting such an asshole, so I politely declined. "Sorry man."
"Fine, have it your way, idiot. I don't need your help, I was just trying to help him out." The arrogant man said to one of the cameras, before he turned around and charged into the thorns.
The rest of us husbands, including myself, still in shock from what had happened in the first game and clenching our wounded hands, looked at each other, and then back at the production crew. But a group of them were standing behind us, ready to push us into the thorns, should we decide not to comply.
So we all proceeded to follow the arrogant husband into the thorns, and began a race, through what felt like a football field's length of sharp vines, each of us doing our best to avoid what we could, but inevitably getting scratched over and over and over again, to the point where our bodies were covered in blood.
And when I finally crossed the finish line, and stepped out of the thorny shrubs bloody and exhausted, I was relieved to find that only two husbands had beat me there. The arrogant man, of course, and another.
We all looked back, to find the fourth pour soul still halfway through the shrubs, his clothes caught in the thorns.
"Wait for me!" He called out. But it was too late.
"Congratulations, winners!" The host's voice called out over the speakers. "You've proven you would truly do anything for love, and can proceed on to the next game. And as for the loser, please remove him from the game."
Then, a couple crew members wearing rubber suits and carrying shears, cut their way through the thorns, freed the fourth husband from the thorns, and escorted him out of the factory.
As the three remaining husbands left the second room and entered the third, my thoughts once again returned to my wife, and wondered whether she too was faced with the same challenge, and had made it through the thorns.
Game three is where things... escalated.
When we entered the next factory, I saw three beds in the center of the room, each with a TV next to it.
"Remaining contestants, welcome to the semi final challenge." The host bellowed out over the room's speakers. "Will you each please choose a bed."
The three of us did as he asked, and walked to the center of the room, each of us standing in front of one the beds.
Then, a door opened and three masked women emerged, making their way to the center of the room, and each lying down on one of the beds.
"The rules of game three are as follows." He continued. "You simply have to sex with the stranger before you..."
The arrogant husband looked at me and smiled.
"...While watching your partner do the same."
Suddenly, the three TVs turned on, each displaying our wives in the very same situation. And lying on each of their beds, was a masked man.
"First off, we assure you that the women and men before you complied consensually, and have been tested for STDs. So the test of this game is not about morality, or safety, but fidelity. Would you cheat on your significant other, for the greater good of the relationship? The last couple to have sex, or the first to refuse, will lose. While the others, will proceed on to the final challenge."
I looked at my wife on the TV screen, relieved that she had made it this far, but started in shaking fear of what we both have to do to win.
Meanwhile, the arrogant husband started unclipping his belt button and turned to one of the cameras. "You call this a semi final? My wife and I are in an open relationship. Bring it on!"
While the third man, simply stared at his TV screen, sweating and pacing, clearly terrified to go through with it, and watch his wife do the same.
"The game begins... now!” The host called out.
As the arrogant man began to have sex with the woman on his bed, his naked body still littered with fresh scratches from the thorns, I thought about trying to escape, but then I saw the timid husband, and realized his hesitation was an opportunity for me to make it to the next round.
And so, I too removed my clothes and exposed my wounded body, crawling into bed with the masked woman, as my wife did the same with the masked man.
Before long, it was over, the arrogant man laying there naked and smiling into one of the cameras, while I, also naked, hung my head in shame for what I had just done.
I looked at the TV screen, and saw my wife put her clothes back on too. We had both made it.
The same could not be said for the nervous man and his wife, who both stayed true to their values, neither engaging in the act, before masked crew members promptly escorted them out of the factory.
And then there were two. Well, two couples that is. Myself against the arrogant man, my wife against his.
Masked production assistants then brought myself and my competitor into the room where the final challenge would be held.
It, much like the first room, was completely bare save for a dinner table at its center, where two plates and sets of utensils were set out.
"Finalists. Welcome to the fourth and last challenge. Will both contestants please take a seat at the dinner table."
We followed his instructions, as we had done previously, and sat down at the table, before a couple production assistants ran over and helped us tuck bibs into our shirts.
"The rules of game four are perhaps the most simple of all. You'll be presented with an item that you must eat. The first to finish eating it, is the winner." The host said over the room's speakers.
That's when a door opened and two masked PAs came out holding trays, and began rushing them over to us.
As they approached us, I began to panic, knowing that whatever it was that they were about to present to us, would likely even be more terrifying than anything we had encountered in the previous games.
"Sometimes you have to break a heart, to win another." The host called out, "In this challenge, the item you'll need to eat is..."
At that exact moment, the two PAs each removed a pair of tongs from their pocket, uncovered their tray, and placed the item on our plates.
"...A human heart."
I gasped, and nearly threw up in my mouth, as I saw the disgusting bloody organ lying there on my plate.
"May the best husband win! Goodluck, the game starts... now!"
For a minute, I hesitated, disgusted by the challenge set before me, but then I thought about what was on the line, and saw the arrogant husband immediately biting into his heart, blood pouring down his face.
I hurried to catch up, briefly fumbling my own heart, before chomping into it, and attempting to eat it as fast as I could, as blood sprayed all over my own face.
But the arrogant husband had gotten a head start, and was moving too quickly. No matter how fast I ate it, it was becoming clear that if nothing was done, he would surely beat me..
So, not knowing what else to do…
…I slammed what was left of my heart onto the plate, removed my bib, stood up, and proceeded to tackle the arrogant man out of his seat, sending his heart sliding across the concrete floor.
"What the fuck are you doing, man?" He asked, likely surprised that I was capable of such an act.
"I'm doing what needs to be done for love." I replied, before pummeling him over and over in the face with my fist, as I channeled my innermost frustrations, ranging from the traumatic experience we had just gone through, the arrogant husband’s obnoxious behavior throughout the game, years of belittlement from asshole boss, and my wife and my countless failed attempts at getting pregnant over the years.
I kept pummeling him, until he had completely shut the fuck up, and was simply mumbling incoherent words, his face a bloody pulp, blood bubbling out of his mouth.
I then stood up, walked back to the table, sat down, put the bib back on, and took the last bite of my heart.
"Congratulations, you’ve proved that you'll truly do anything for love, and have won the show! Please remove the loser."
Rather than celebrate, my mind once again returned to my wife, worried about her well being and wondering if she too, had mustered up the courage to eat the heart, and had become the winning wife.
A couple masked production assitants then ran over and dragged the arrogant husband away, as he simply stared at me in shock.
I looked down at my hands, which were still covered in blood, then up at one of the cameras, which was now right up in my face.
“How do you feel?” Phil asked, prompting me to speak to the camera.
But I couldn’t bring myself to speak any words.
I tried to think of something to say, but before I could, a door opened, and the masked PAs grabbed me by the arms and escorted me out of the last room and into an adjacent hallway, which led to a huge set of double doors.
"Winners,” the host said over the hallway’s speakers. “You stand here before us, victorious, each of you on one side of the doors. Now it is time, to find out if the person on the other side… is your partner… and if you both had what it takes, to do anything for love."
I took a deep breath, expecting the worst. Expecting to see the arrogant man’s wife on the other side. After all that.
But when the doors opened, I simply saw…
...My wife, standing there on the other side.
We ran to each other and embraced, both of us missing our ring fingers, littered in scratches, emotionally exhausted, and with faces and hands that were covered in blood.
"Congratulations!" The host continued, "You're the winners of Anything for Love!"
Both crying, we smiled at each other, but our smiles quickly turned into looks of sadness.
We'd won. But at what cost? I wondered, before the thought was overshadowed by that of the once in a lifetime prize that awaited us.
The producer, Phil, then brought us into yet another room, where we met a doctor, his face covered by a surgical mask, and both shook his hand.
"When you two showed up late,” Phil began, “I never thought you'd be the ones to win. But you did. So we stand by our promise. After you return home, you’ll be contacted by the doctor, who will provide you with the guidance and resources to hopefully have a baby of your own. That part, is obviously not guaranteed."
"Thank you." My wife replied, clearly torn by saying those words. “Understood.”
"Thank you." I added, also torn, before realizing that the camera crew didn't follow us into the room with the doctor. "But can I ask, why aren't you filming this part?"
"Oh, our audience only cares about watching the games." Phil replied with a chuckle.
"Audience? But we just filmed it."
"Oh, yeah we were livestreaming the whole time."
"I thought it was just a pilot. Who was watching?"
"The subscribers."
"Who are they?"
"A very small, very privileged group of people, who can't be bothered by pedestrian entertainment. They desire something more... elevated."
"Will this ever be a real show?"
"This? Of course not." Phil laughed, "No one else will ever watch this again. And no one but the small group of contestants and this crew, will ever know of what went on here."
"What happened to the other couples?"
"Oh they're fine. Aside from missing fingers, and being a little physically and emotionally scratched up. We'll do with them exactly what we'll do with you. Drop them off somewhere just far enough away that after we give them their phones back, if they choose to call the police or tell anyone about this place, by the time they come here to investigate, they'll find this factory abandoned, without a trace of what went on here today. The same goes for you. By the way, we better get you ready to go, your car will be arriving any minute now.”
Neither my wife nor myself had the energy to conjure up a reply.
"Thank you again for playing!" Phil said through his mask, "And on behalf of the subscribers, please enjoy your prize!"
He then led us out down a long hallway, through a back door, and into an alley, where a car was waiting to take us away.
"The chauffeur will provide you with your phones upon your arrival."
An hour or so later, the driver pulled over on the side of a highway, and let us off, handing us our phones just as Phil had promised.
But rather than call the police, we just stood there for a while, still horrified by the terrifying experience we had just been put through.
And ultimately… we decided that since we had won, it'd be best to leave it alone.
We hitched a ride back home, and sure enough, about a week later...
...We received a call from the doctor...
...And less than a year after that, my wife gave birth to our baby boy.
Sometimes, I think back to that day, and the terrible games they set before us, and wonder if my wife and I went too far to win…
...But then I look at my newborn son, and all the doubt, all the shame, all the horror, washes away.
And as for the subscribers. Every once in a while, when a car drives suspiciously slow past our house, or I get the feeling that my baby monitor might have just moved on its own, I wonder if they're still watching us, and if this is just the next episode of their reality show.

as the title saids my game crashes after i play for short time any idea as to why?
LOAD ORDER:
This file was automatically generated by Mod Organizer.
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Used to keep all my gym progression pictures in my eyes only but want to move them to the hidden folder on camera roll. Is there any fast way of exporting them all into the camera roll while ensuring the data and time is attached with each image and video.

This is the second half of my list for Oklahoma's execution roster. As mentioned in the first part, I broke it in half to comply with reddit's character limitations. For the link to part 1, please click here.
The currently executed 124 offenders, cases 63-124:
63. Robert Knighton (~1960s-2003, lethal injection): In 1973, after being released from a 1968 armed robbery conviction, Knighton went on his first major crime spree. He stabbed and strangled several men and women during many robberies and home invasions. The only victim that was killed, 32 year old Coffier Day, was shot dead while Knighton was arguing with him in his home. Coffier's father, 53 year old Claude, was also injured in the shooting. Knighton's first crime spree ended when he kidnapped a married couple and their 6 year old daughter. They escaped when the wife and mother of the family attacked Knighton with a knife to protect her husband and daughter. The family then notified the police of their abduction. Knighton managed to secure a 30 year manslaughter conviction and a 10 year armed robbery conviction with a plea deal, and was released to a halfway house in 1989. There, he began dating a female addict and befriended a teenage boy. The trio embarked on a nationwide robbery spree together. In Missouri, they shot and killed 59 year old Frank Merrifield and his 40 year old stepson Roy Donahue while robbing their home, and stole guns and money from them. In Oklahoma, the trio fatally shot a couple, 64 year old Virginia and 62 year old Richard Denney, while carjacking them. Their rampage ended when a woman in Texas grow suspicious of them circling a neighborhood. Knighton had a long history of theft convictions dating back to his childhood, and joined the Aryan Brotherhood in prison. Behind bars, he frequently attacked black and Native American inmates out of racial hatred for them.
64. Kenneth Charm (1993-2003, lethal injection): Charm and his teenage cousin lured a family friend, 14 year old Brandy Hill, into their car. They raped Hill and tried strangling her with a towel. When that failed, the cousins bludgeoned her to death with a sledgehammer.
65. Lewis Gilbert II (1994-2003, lethal injection): Gilbert and his teenage accomplice committed at least 4 robbery murders in Missouri, Ohio, and Oklahoma, but he was executed for the killing of 37 year old Roxanne Ruddell. They ambushed and kidnapped Ruddell while she was fishing alone. She was robbed of $3 and her truck, tied to a tree, and shot to death. The pair also fatally shot Ruth Loader, a 79 year old Ohioan woman, while abducting her from her residence, and gunned down a Missouri couple, 86 year old William and 76 year old Flossie Brewer, in their home. Gilbert was also sentenced to death for the Brewer murders by the state of Missouri, but was incarcerated in Oklahoma State Penitentiary’s death row.
66. Robert Duckett (~1980s-2003, lethal injection): After breaking out of prison, Duckett was picked up hitchhiking by John Howard, a 53 year old store owner. Howard agreed to let Duckett stay with him until he could find a job. The pair soon had a failing out, and Duckett was evicted by his host. He retaliated by tying Howard up with wire and then beating him to death with a fireplace poker. Duckett made off with his car after he switched the license plates, and took several bank bags from his store. He had a long violent criminal history, which included several incidents of assault and robbery. One of the incidents involved the beating of an 83 year old man. Allegedly, Duckett was previously gang-raped by other inmates, and suffered from PTSD from the incident. His attorneys claimed that Howard’s sexual advances trigged those memories, and he was killed as a result of Duckett lashing out at them. However, the prosecution shot the argument down, citing that the murder happened after Duckett was evicted from the apartment.
67. Bryan Toles (1993-2003, lethal injection): Toles and his two accomplices forced themselves into the home of the Franceschi family, and shot and killed the family patriarch, 39 year old Juan, in a struggle. Juan's son, 15 year old Lonnie, was also murdered "execution style" out of fear that he could identify Toles and his accomplices. The only survivor of the attack was Norma, Juan's wife and Lonnie's mother, who escaped by hiding in her older daughter's bedroom.
68. Jackie Willingham (1994-2003, lethal injection): Willingham was a door to door salesman selling perfume in an office building. One women, 62 year old Jayne Van Wey, he tried to solicit rejected him despite his repeated offers. Angered by her "rude behavior", Willingham attacked Van Wey when they had a chance encounter near the building's restroom. He dragged Van Wey out of a stall after following her inside, slammed her head against the bathroom wall several times, and kicked her head. Reportedly, Van Wey choked to death on her own blood.
69. Harold McElmurry III (1999-2003, lethal injection): While under the influence of meth, McElmurry and his wife Vicki broke into a home that a WW2 veteran, 80 year old Robert Pendley, shared with his wife, 75 year old Rosa. Robert and Rosa were both quickly subdued and physically restrained by the couple. McElmurry clubbed Robert to death with a pipe in front of Rosa, who was forced to watch by Vicki. Vicki then held Rosa down as McElmurry stabbed her several times with scissors. After killing the Pendleys, the McElmurrys fled with $70 in cash, a pair of guns, and the victims' car. A few days after the murders, they were captured by border agents while trying to cross into Mexico.
70. Tyrone Darks (~1990s-2004, lethal injection): Darks rammed his ex wife, 26 year old Sherry Goodlow, off the road as she was driving with their 2 year old son. After Goodlow crashed, Darks pulled their son out of the wreckage, shot her to death, and then drove away with him. Just before she succumbed to her injuries, Goodlow managed to call and notify the police about her son’s abduction. The police confronted and arrested Darks at his home, and they found the boy unharmed in their search. Darks and Goodlow’s former marriage was marred with violence, and he was arrested on numerous occasions for assaulting her. On death row, Darks was involved in a scheme to defraud a foundation for 9/11 survivors.
71. Norman Cleary (~1980s-2004, lethal injection): While burglarizing an upper class home with an accomplice, Cleary shot and killed a housekeeper, 44 year old Wanda Neafus, and took her purse and a cane that her employers purchased from the Smithsonian Institution. Cleary had a long criminal history and was previously convicted of beating an 87 year old woman in her home.
72. David Brown (~1983-2004, lethal injection): For several years, Brown violently harassed his ex wife and her family. In one incident, Brown abducted his ex wife and 11 of her customers from a beauty saloon she owned, and held them hostage until he surrendered to police. He was able to leave custody on bond and went into hiding. A few years after the hostage crisis incident, Brown broke into his ex wife's family home and gunned down her father, 47 year old Eldon McGuire.
73. Hung Thanh Le (1992-2004, lethal injection): Le crept into the apartment of another Vietnamese refugee, 34 year old Hai Nguyen, and found him watching TV on the couch. He struck Nguyen from behind with a weightlifting bar, and continued stabbing him with a meat cleaver when he screamed his wife for help. Nguyen's wife phoned the police, and Le fled with the couple's safety deposit box that contained $36,000 and their wedding ring.
74. Robert Bryan (1993-2004, lethal injection): Bryan shot and killed his estranged aunt, 69 year old Mildred, dumped her body on his parents' property, and forged a $1,800 check to himself under her name.
75. Windel Workman (~1980s(?)-2004, lethal injection): Workman beat his girlfriend's daughter, 2 year old Amanda Holman, to death while babysitting her in their home. His ex wives reported that he had a history of child abuse and often violently spanked their children during their marriages.
76. Jimmie Slaughter (1991-2005, lethal injection): Fearing that she was going to tell his wife of their affair, Slaughter stabbed and shot his ex girlfriend, 29 year old Melody Wuertz, and their daughter, 1 year old Jessica. According to court documents, Slaughter mutilated both of their bodies, and he carved an "R" on Melody's stomach. He tried pinning the murders on a black man, but the investigators and the courts dismissed his allegations.
77. George Miller Jr. (1994-2005, lethal injection): During the robbery of a hotel, Miller attacked the auditor, 25 year old Kent Dodd, with a hedge shear and paint cans, and took $122 from the register. Dodd was severely beaten, had muriatic acid shoved down his throat, and was left to die. Just before he died of his injuries, Dodd gave a description of his attacker to the police that matched Miller. A massive amount of circumstantial evidence, such as wearing shoes that resembled the bloodstained footprints next to Dodd's body, a microscopic drop of blood found on his shoes that was tentatively linked to Dodd, his wife's testimony of his unaccounted absence from their home during the murder, and what appeared to be Dodd writing Miller's alias that he knew him by in his own blood, convicted him. Miller’s friends also reported that he was broke and begging them for money a day before the murder, and his wife mentioned him giving her the same amount of money that was stolen from the robbery a day after it happened.
78. Michael Pennington (1991-2005, lethal injection): Pennington shot and killed a clerk, 20 year old Bradley Grooms, while trying to rob a 7-eleven grocery store. He left empty handed when the register failed to open.
79. Kenneth Turrentine (1994-2005, lethal injection): Under the belief that they were stealing money from him for drugs, Turrentine shot and killed his sister, 48 year old Avon Stevenson, and his girlfriend, 39 year old Anita Richardson, during confrontations in their homes. He also gunned down Anita's two children, 22 year old Tina Pennington and 13 year old Martise.
80. Richard Thornburg Jr. (1996-2006, lethal injection): A month after he was shot by an unknown assailant, Thornburg and his accomplices sought revenge by abducting 5 men that he thought was responsible from a trailer. Three of the hostages, 51 year old James Poteet, 39 year old Tery Sheppard, and 24 year old Kieth Smith, were gunned down on the spot, and Thornberg forced the fourth to shoot the fifth with the threat of killing him if he didn’t comply. They then burned down the trailer with the wounded fifth victim still trapped inside, but he managed to escape with his life. Despite being forced to put all the blame on himself in exchange for being spared, the fourth hostage still went forward to the police.
81. John Boltz (1984-2006, lethal injection): To spite his estranged wife following an argument, Boltz attacked her son, 23 year old Doug Kirby, with a knife. Kirby was stabbed a total of 11 times, and he received several fatal wounds to his chest, stomach, and neck.
82. Eric Patton (1994-2006, lethal injection): Patton forced his way into the home of 56 year old Charlene Kauer after she refused his pleading for money. After dragging her around the house as he searched for valuables, Patton stabbed Kauer several times with many different blades objects at hand such as scissors, barbecue forks, and kitchen knifes. Although he confessed to the murder, Patton blamed it on alleged demonic possession and his cocaine addiction.
83. James Malicoat (1997-2006, lethal injection): Malicoat slammed Tessa Leadford, his 13 month old daughter, against a dresser. After she died from the beating, he tucked her into bed, and waited until his daughter's mother returned from work to take her to the hospital. The doctors found that Leadford had been dead for several hours at the time of her arrival, and discovered several injuries such as broken ribs, bite marks, abdominal bleeding, and facial bruising on her body. By his own account, he had abused Leadford on a daily basis. For her role in enabling her boyfriend's treatment of their daughter, Leadford's mother was convicted of first degree murder and given a life sentence.
84. Corey Hamilton (1992-2007, lethal injection): During the robbery of a restaurant, Hamilton shot and killed 4 employees, 26 year old Sandy Lara, 24 year old Stephen Williams, 19 year old Ted Kindley, and 17 year old Joseph Gooch, and made off with $2,000.
85. Jimmy Bland (~1975-2007, lethal injection): Bland shot his boss, 62 year old Doyle Rains, in the head over an argument regarding a borrowed car and dumped the body in a creek. He was previously convicted of killing a soldier, Raymond Prentice (age unknown), and abducting the man's wife and son at the age of 19. Bland served a 20 out of 60 year sentence, and murdered Rains a year after he was released.
86. Frank Welch (~1987-2008, lethal injection): In 1987, Welch attacked 28 year old Jo Cooper, who was 4 months pregnant with her second child, in her home. She was tied up with leather straps, raped and violated with plastic toys, and strangled to death. Cooper’s body was found laying near her infant son by her husband. Another woman, 32 year old Debra Stevens, was also bound, raped, and strangled to death in her home in a near identical fashion a few months later. Although both murders went unsolved for several years, Welch abducted and raped a woman in 1994, and he received a 45 year sentence for it. His DNA samples was collected and filed after his abduction conviction, and linked to both Cooper and Stevens’ murders in a 1997 test.
87. Terry Short (1995-2008, lethal injection): In an attempt to kill his ex girlfriend, Short blew up her apartment complex with a firebomb. She and her family managed to escape, but the blast killed Ken Yamamoto, a 22 year old Japanese exchange student. Yamamoto had no connections to the targeted ex girlfriend's family beyond him having the misfortune of residing in the same apartment.
88. Jessie Cummings Jr. (1991-2009, lethal injection): Cummings was a polygamist that had married and lived with two wives. Under his orders, Cummings’ wives shot and killed his estranged half sister, 46 year old Judy Mayo, and kidnapped her daughter, 11 year old Melissa. He bound his niece to his bed with handcuffs to be raped, and stabbed her to death.
89. Darwin Brown (1995-2009, lethal injection): While robbing a grocery store with three accomplices (including Billy Alverson and Michael Wilson), Brown tied up the clerk, 30 year old Richard Yost, with handcuffs, and then bludgeoned him death with a metal baseball bat. The killing was caught by security cameras, and the footage was used by the prosecution to secure the convictions of Brown and his accomplices.
90. Donald Gilson (1995-2009, lethal injection): Gilson routinely physically abused his live in girlfriend's 5 children (who were all between the ages of 8 and 12 years old). The youngest, 8 year old Shane Coffman, was beaten to death with a board for defecating on the living room carpet. He and his girlfriend then hid the body by stuffing it in a freezer. The body was kept inside it for 6 months until it was discovered by a sheriff's deputy investigating the family's abuse allegations. Gilson's girlfriend was spared the death penalty with a plea deal, and given a life sentence without the possibility of parole for her part in her son's abuse and murder.
91. Michael DeLozier (1995-2009, lethal injection): While camping with his friends, DeLozier ambushed another pair of campers, 60 year old Orville Bullard and 54 year old Paul Morgan, and shot them to death. They stole Morgan and Bullard's generator, pick up truck, and other camping gear. To cover up their tracks, DeLozier and his friends set their victims' campsite on fire, and severely burned the bodies.
92. Julius Young (1993-2010, lethal injection): For breaking off their relationship, Young beat his ex girlfriend, 20 year old Joyland Morgan and her 6 year old son Kewan, to death with a baseball bat in their apartment.
93. Donald Wackerly II (1996-2010, lethal injection): Wackerly and his wife ambushed and gunned down Pan Sayakhoummane, a 51 year old Laotian immigrant, while he was fishing in the Arkansas River. After he placed Sayakhoummane's body in the man’s own truck, he pushed into a river, and stole his fishing gear. A few months after the murder, Wackerly’s wife turned him in to the police.
94. John Duty (~1970s-2010, lethal injection): Duty was given a life sentence for abducting, raping, and non fatally shooting a female store clerk during a robbery. While incarcerated, he tricked a fellow inmate, 22 year old Curtis Wise Jr. into allowing himself to be tied up as a part of a hostage ruse, and then strangled him to death with shoelaces. At the time of his murder, Wise was serving a conviction for burglary and contributing to the delinquency of minors. Duty's execution caused some controversy for the use of pentobarbital, a drug more commonly utilized by veterinarians to euthanize pets.
95. Billy Alverson (1995-2011, lethal injection): Alverson assisted the above mentioned Darwin Brown and Micheal Wilson in the beating death of Richard Yost while robbing a convenience store.
96. Jeffrey Matthews (1994-2011, lethal injection): Matthews and his accomplice shot and killed his great uncle, 77 year old Otis Short, while robbing the man's home. In the robbery, they stole Short's truck, his .32 calibre pistol, and $500. The pair also slit the throat of Short's wife, but she survived her injuries.
97. Gary Welch (~1993-2011, lethal injection): During a fight over a drug shipment, Welch and his partner stabbed another dealer, 32 year old Robert Hardcastle, to death with broken glass bottles. He was previously convicted of battery with a deadly weapon, and was off on probation at the time of Hardcastle's murder.
98. Timothy Stemple (1996-2012, lethal injection): Stemple conspired with his girlfriend to murder his wife, 30 year old Trisha, for her life insurance policy. With the help of his girlfriend's 16 year old nephew or cousin [sources vary], Stemple beat Trisha with a baseball bat, and rammed her to death with his truck.
99. Michael Selsor (~1975-2012, lethal injection): Selsor and his accomplice went on a crime spree and robbed several convenience stores. During their robberies, the pair shot and killed two clerks, 55 year old Clayton Chandler and 20 year old Ina Morris, and injured two others in shooting and stabbing attacks.
100. Michael Hooper (~1992-2012, lethal injection): Hooper kidnapped his ex girlfriend, 23 year old Cynthia Jarman, and her children, 5 year old Timothy and 3 year old Tonya, from her boyfriend's residence. He shot all three of them dead, and buried the bodies in a rancher's field. According to court documents, Hooper was hyper-violent towards Cynthia in their year long relationship.
101. Garry Allen (1986-2012, lethal injection): Allen shot and killed his fiancee, 24 year old Lawanna Titsworth, during an argument at a day care she worked at. He fought with the responding officers trying to arrest him in an attempt to provoke a "suicide by cop" outcome. Despite the officers' best efforts to avoid harming him, Allen lost his eye from an accidental discharge. Due to claims of him having schizophrenia, Allen's execution was a source of controversy.
102. George Ochoa (~1993-2012, lethal injection): A Southside Locos gang member, Ochoa and another hoodlum shot and killed a couple, 38 year old Francisco Morales and 35 year old Maria Yanez, while burglarizing their home. The murders were witnessed by the couple's 14 year old and 10 year old children and stepchildren, who then phoned the police after the shooters' departure.
103. Steven Thacker (~1980s-2012, lethal injection): Thacker kidnapped 25 year old Laci Hill during a botched robbery of her home, and took her to a remote cabin to be raped. She was then strangled and stabbed to death. He fled to Missouri, fatally stabbed 24 year old Forrest Boyd while carjacking him, and used his car to hide out in Tennessee. After the stolen car broke down, Thacker called a tow truck to pick him up. When the driver, 52 year old Ray Patterson, found that he was using a stolen credit card, Thacker stabbed him to death as well. As a teenager, Thacker committed several acts of auto thefts and burglaries. He also engaged in inappropriate relationships with underaged girls, and was released from a Florida prison after serving time for a bad check conviction months before his murders.
104. James DeRosa (2000-2013, lethal injection): DeRosa and his accomplice tricked a couple, 73 year old Curtis and 70 year old Gloria Plummer, that he worked for on their ranch, into letting them inside their house. After they stabbed the Plummers and slit their throats, DeRosa and his accomplice stole $73 and drove away with their truck.
105. Brian Davis (2001-2013, lethal injection): Davis went searching for his girlfriend and their daughter when he found them missing from their home, and called his girlfriend's mother, 56 year old Josephine Sanford, about their whereabouts. Sanford dropped by the couple's residence after failing to find her daughter and granddaughter. At her arrival, she was raped, beaten, and stabbed to death by Davis. He then left the body in the house, drove off with Sanford’s van, and injured himself in a car accident. As Davis was high while driving, he was arrested for being under the influence. The detaining officers weren’t aware of the murder until Davis’ girlfriend returned to the home later that night, and called 911 after finding her mother’s corpse.
106. Anthony Banks (~1978-2013, lethal injection): In 1978, while robbing a grocery store, Banks shot and killed a clerk, 22 year old David Fremin. A year later, he abducted Sun Travis, a 24 year old South Korean immigrant, from a parking lot. He then sexually assaulted Travis in his car and shot her in the head. Although he was captured and convicted for Fremin's murder, Travis' killing went unsolved until a 1997 DNA test. Banks was originally sentenced to death for Fremin's murder, but it was lifted in favor of a life sentence. He was condemned for a second time after his conviction for Travis murder.
107. Ronald Lott (~1980s-2013, lethal injection): A sexual predator of elderly women, Lott broke into the homes of 93 year old Zelma Cutler and 83 year old Anna Fowler after cutting off their power. They were tied up with cloth, anally penetrated, beaten, and suffocated to death with pillowcases. The case attracted controversy when another man was erroneously condemned for the murders, and he spent 11 years on death row until a 1997 DNA test linked the murders to Lott. At the time of the discovery, Lott was serving time for two rape convictions.
108. Johnny Black (~1984-2013, lethal injection): Black, two of his brothers, and two other men went looking for a man they feuded with for a fight. While they were crusing on the road, the group encountered a rancher, 54 year old Bill Pogue, and mistook him for their target due to them driving similar vehicles. They forced Poque off the road, pulled him out of his car, and stabbed him a total of 10 times. Pogue's son in law was also dragged out and attacked, but he managed to escape with his life. Black was previously convicted of manslaughter for shooting 49 year old Cecil Martin dead in an argument.
109. Michael Wilson (1995-2014, lethal injection): Wilson was the third participant in the above mentioned beating death of Richard Yost to be executed.
110. Kenneth Hogan (1988-2014, lethal injection): Hogan stabbed 21 year old Lisa Stanley to death while she was babysitting his children. According to autopsy reports, she was stabbed at least 25 times. Stanley had previously accused him of sexual misconduct, and prosecutors believed that she was killed during an argument over the allegations.
111. Clayton Lockett (~1992-2014, lethal injection): Lockett, his cousin, and another accomplice kidnapped 23 year old Bobby Bornt, 18 year old Summer Hair, and Bornt's 9 month son after burglarizing a home. After tying them up with duct tape, they forced their captives to lure a friend, 19 year old Stephanie Neiman, with a phone call. Neiman was also bound and initially survived getting shot multiple times. Out of frustration, Lockett buried her alive, and she succumbed to a combination of suffocation and her injuries. Lockett and his accomplices also gang-raped Hair and beat Bornt, but spared them on the forced condition of their silence. His execution was controversial, as Lockett convulsed for 45 minutes after being injected, and then died from a heart attack. He also had a long criminal history, and was first arrested for burglary as a teenager.
112. Charles Warner (1997-2015, lethal injection): Warner raped his girlfriend's daughter, 11 month old Adriana Waller, and shook her to death. His execution sparked outcry, as the wrong fatal drug was administered by mistake, and Warner complained of "burning pain" as he was being injected. With the botched executions of Lockett and Warner back to back, the state of Oklahoma delayed further executions until 2021.
113. John Grant (~1970s-2021, lethal injection): While serving a 130 year sentence for armed robbery, Grant stabbed a prison cafeteria worker, 58 year old Gay Carter, to death. He had a long criminal history dating back to the ag e of 11, had several previous convictions of theft and armed robbery, and frequently fought with and assaulted other inmates behind bars. Due to reports of "adverse reactions" to the lethal drugs, Grant's execution was scrutinized by a number of national media outlets.
114. Bigler Stouffer II (1985-2021, lethal injection): Stouffer shot and killed his ex girlfriend, 35 year old Linda Reaves, in her boyfriend's home for breaking up with him. Reaves' boyfriend was also seriously injured in the shooting.
115. Donald Grant (2001-2022, lethal injection): During a robbery of a hotel, Grant fatally shot, stabbed, and bludgeoned two employees, 43 year old Felicia Smith and 29 year old Brenda McElyea, and ran off with $1,500. He spent $200 of the stolen on paying for his girlfriend's bail.
116. Gilbert Postelle (~1998-2022, lethal injection): Postelle’s father was badly injured in a motorcycle accident, and they suspected that 57 year old James Anderson, 56 year old Terry Smith, 49 year old Donnie Swindler, and 26 year old Amy Wright were deliberately involved. Out a desire for vengeance, he recruited Postelle, his other son, and another man to kill them. All four victims were fatally gunned down in what was described as a “blitz attack” on their trailer. He was an addict and had several arrests for drug possession and manufacturing dating back to the age of 12.
117. James Coddington (1997-2022, lethal injection): After robbing a grocery store, Coddington went to the home of a friend and co worker, 73 year old Albert Hale, to ask for money. When Hale turned him down, Coddington retaliated by beating him with a claw hammer. Coddington stole $525 and went on to rob 5 more grocery stores. Hale was left alone with his injures for nearly an entire day until he was discovered by his son, and died in the hospital a day later.
118. Benjamin Cole Sr. (2002-2022, lethal injection): Out of anger that her crying interrupted his Nintendo game, Cole beat his daughter from his second wife, 9 month old Brianna, to death. He was previously convicted of abusing his son from a different marriage in California.
119. Richard Fairchild (1996-2023, lethal injection): Fairchild got into a fight with his girlfriend’s 17 year old daughter after making drunken sexual passes at her, and was enraged that she left with a cab driver. He took his anger out on the girl’s younger brother, 3 year old Adam Broomhall, and scalded him with a wall heater. He then repeatedly hit the boy, threw him against a table, and fatally hemorrhaged his head. Bromhall received over 26 blows during the beating.
120. Scott Eizember (2003-2023, lethal injection): Eizember snuck into his ex girlfriend's house to lie in wait for her. However, her roommates, 76 year old A.J. Cantrell and his 70 year old wife Patsy, arrived home earlier then she did. He shot and beat them both to death and then fled the scene.
121. Jemaine Cannon (1995-2023, lethal injection): Cannon was put in prison for assaulting an unidentified woman. He managed to escape and stabbed his girlfriend, 20 year old Sharonda Clark, to death in her apartment.
122. Anthony Sanchez (1996-2023, lethal injection): Sanchez kidnapped 21 year old Jewell Busken from her apartment complex, and then raped and shot her to death. He amassed a following from the anti death penalty movement for claiming that his father was responsible, but such notions were debunked following a 2023 DNA test that concluded Sanchez’s guilt.
123. Phillip Hancock (~1982-2023, lethal injection): In 1982, Hancock shot a drug dealer, 27 year old Charles Warren, dead in a dispute over stolen jewelry and was given a manslaughter conviction for it. He was released after serving a 2 year term. About 17 years later, he shot and killed 58 year old James Lynch III and 37 year old Robert Jett Jr. in a drug house. Despite an eyewitness account describing Lynch and Jett begging for their lives, the case attracted scrutiny when Hancock's attorneys claimed that the shootings were done in self defense.
124. Michael Smith (~2002-2024, lethal injection): A member of the Oak Grove Posse gang, Smith was responsible for two separate fatal shootings on the same day. In one of his murders, he killed Sharath Pulluru, a 24 year old Indian immigrant that worked as a clerk, while robbing a gas station. The other murder occurred when he tried to confront a gang member that he thought was a police informant in his apartment, and gunned down the target’s mother, 40 year old Janet Miller-Moore, when she refused to give away her son’s location. Smith was also given a life sentence for delivering a gun to a shooter that carried out another gang killing.

It was a couple of C-list celebrities taking on a series of challenges. Not a hidden-camera show or a game show, but more like a family-friendly proto-Jackass. I thought the hosts had good chemistry but Nielsen families gave this one a hard pass. 1 season.
https://youtu.be/iL4Ni_qZt-0?si=hxGyUgiQtnWyysQu

Killer Grips: Anne Maria, Brick, Jasmine, Justin, Millie
Screaming Gaffers: Chase, MK, Ripper, Scott, Sky
Episode 6: The Aftermath I: Trent's Descent
A riff from an electric guitar opened the episode as a pair of purple concentric circles flew across and back in the screen towards the upper-left corner, a group of smaller, bluer circles flying through them in the same direction but at a higher speed. As it neared the top of the screen a large and blocky red 'T' flashed into existence and descended back down, and the background music continued into a theme fit for an evening talk show. A similarly-styled 'D' and 'A' appeared next as a few more purple or blue rings crossed the screen, then the three letters slid in from the left to spell out 'TDA'. The word 'AFTERMATH' popped up from the bottom of the screen, temporarily bumping up the first three letters before they slammed back down and centered the text in the middle of the screen.
A gleam swept across the text from upper-left to lower-right, and the 'D' briefly popped forwards with the faint sound of a camera, turning a little bit counterclockwise before reversing into its former position.
Clip 1
"Any final words?" Chris asked the eliminated contestants.
“Yeah. You guys actually voted me off. I respect that,” Eva nodded with a smirk.
“Good luck dudes. Wicked play,” Geoff smiled as he and Eva got off the bleachers and went to the red carpet.
The 'D' popped out briefly again and another bout of recap footage began.
Clip 2
"Here's the deal," Chef stated, pacing about slowly in front of the teen. "I'll help you man up and win this thing. You don't ask any stupid questions and you split the prize with me.” He leaned in closer towards Brick's face. “Like they say, it's an offer you can't refuse. I won't let you," he finished with a deadly scowl, much to Brick's discomfort.
The 'D' popped out a third time, signaling the start of another set of recap footage.
Clip 3
“Trent, it's time to go!” Chris informed the eliminated contestant.
Trent got off the stands. “Before I do, can I at least say goodbye to Sky?”
“You could, but it'd be pointless since Chef will just carry you to the limo,” Chris smiled.
“Alright,” Trent sighed and faced his former teammates. “I'm really sorry about my actions, guys. I'll see you later.” With nothing left to say, he turned and walked down the red carpet.
A fourth time the 'D' popped out, and the last set of recap footage played.
Clip 4
"Izzy!" Izzy was left gaping. "Time to go!" Chris announced.
“I'm not going anywhere,” Izzy objected. “That's not my name.”
“Can I get a pen over here?” Chris raised his hand in annoyance. A pen was given to him, and he started to write on the paper. “It says "E-Scope" now, okay?!” This made Izzy finally stand up.
"And remember," Chris told her as she started to walk past the stage, "you can never come back, ev-er!" The host pressed an orange button next to his microphone, and two identical guards came over and grabbed Izzy by her arms.
(Theme Song)
The same sequence used to open the recap was replayed, an unseen audience cheering wildly after the 'TDA AFTERMATH' logo shined. The camera faded into a shot of a stage from the shadowed audience; it was set up like a talk show with one couch and table in the middle, and two tiers of couches on either side. A variety of lights both stage and decorative were scattered around, and to the left was a passage backstage half-hidden by dividing walls and the dark red curtains that framed the set.
And most importantly, sitting on that central couch, were two figures. Damien on the left and Priya on the right.
The camera zoomed in on them as the applause died down, a pair of computer displays visible on the table turned towards the hosts as Priya waved. "Hey there everyone!" she greeted with a smile. "Welcome to the brand-new Total Drama Action Aftermath Show!"
She paused as the audience cheered and applauded again, and once they'd died down, Damien spoke up. "We're coming to you live," he said, "to dish everything Total Drama Action!"
"This is where the real action is!" Priya said to another bout of cheering. "I'm Priya!" she added in with a smile.
"And I'm Damien!" Damien beamed.
"You may remember us from the hit series Total Drama Island," Priya continued.
"And it's thrilling sequel, Total Drama Action," Damien said, “even if we're not on it.”
"I hate that we missed out on the season and a chance to get the money,” Priya grumbled but regained her positivity, “but we have our own show, so I think it compensates."
"Being in the sequel could've given me the possibility of being rich, but when I'm with you, money doesn't matter," Damien smiled happily at Priya, and the crowd awwed.
"Aww, that's so sweet!” Priya gushed and turned to the audience. “And with no competitions here, we get to talk to all of you."
“So about that new season. Pretty cool, right?" Damien asked, looking out at the camera.
"Of course," Priya nodded. "They get to be on a film lot and do different kinds of movie challenges. How spectacular is that?" The crowd cheered in agreement.
"Super spectacular," a voice said from off-camera, the shot zooming out to show that the couches on the right had been occupied by the other non-competing contestants. On the top row were Rodney, Sam, and Gwen, while the bottom row had Topher, Katie, and Sadie.
“We were being rhetorical," Damien pointed out, "but hey, thanks for reminding everyone that you're not invisible! Topher, everyone!" The camera focused on the dirty blonde, who took stride in the applause from the audience.
"We also brought along all the others from the first season," Priya said.
"They may be considered losers," Damien said, "but not to us."
“Aww,” Katie gushed.
“That is so sweet, you guys,” Sadie added.
"The pleasure's all ours," Damien replied. "Give it up for Topher!" he said, and the crowd cheered as the camera cut back to the fanboy. He shot a wink as the screen was split and a clip played of him smacking a fly onto his eye and getting it swollen.
"And Rodney!" Priya added, the camera cutting to the country boy waving at the camera. The screen also split to play a clip of him, showing him returning back to the game on boat.
"Katie and Sadie!" Damien introduced the two girls.
“Oh my gosh!” Katie cheered.
“We are so super excited to be here!” Sadie expressed her happiness.
"Next we have Sam!" Priya said as the camera moved to the gamer smiling at the camera as a clip played in the split screen showing him hanging from a tree by his knees before falling down.
"And how about a shout out to Gwen!" Damien said. Gwen smiled at the camera while the split screen showed a clip of the goth eating blueberries from a bush.
The camera cut over to Topher, who was engrossed in a phone call. "How long are the papers going to take?" he asked before noticing the audience. "Sorry mom, but I'll have to call you back later!"
Priya and Damien shared a glance before Damien smiled at the camera. "We've also got a lot of texts and emails from all of you!" he said excitedly.
"Plus," Priya said, "we'll have a couple of you on webcam!"
"Eva and Geoff will be here," Damien announced, and the crowd went wild.
"And let's not forget our favorite nutcase, Izzy!" Priya added with a smile, earning another roaring cheer from the crowd.
"Plus the guy with the soul of music, Trent!" Damien finished to another round of applause.
"You know what's strange? The four that you two mentioned were part of the final six in Island along with Scott and you, Priya," Topher said.
"That is pretty shocking," Priya added. "Eva and Geoff especially."
"Eva could have won the season again, but I guess no one wants a repeat," Sam laughed a bit.
"We've got a lot to talk about," Damien told the audience. "It's almost time to welcome our first guests," he announced, "but first, take a look at this!" The nervous wreck looked up to the wide and flat television hanging above the central couch.
The television's static cut to a clip of Geoff and Eva running together to escape the monster. "Geoff and Eva's time on Total Drama Action may have been short," Damien said.
"But it sure was packed with the action that we grew to love," Priya continued as Eva and Geoff stuck their heads out from behind a cardboard cutout of a small red car.
"Eva managed to recover from her broken ankle from last season," Damien continued as the muscle woman was shown running through the sidewalk.
"And Geoff proved that losing a tooth doesn't mean losing your positivity," Priya said as footage of Geoff showing off his golden tooth replacement was shown.
"And they both did well for themselves, even if they didn't win the second challenge!" Damien followed up as clips of Geoff and Eva being shown on the ground along with being shot with paintballs courtesy of Chef played.
"But unfortunately, they weren't able to play for another day!" Priya continued.
"I don't even blame the contestants since Eva and Geoff were last season's Final Two," Damien spoke as a clip played of the two going into the limousine. "At least they still have their friendship!"
"One has eaten dog food," Priya said, "and the other has taken control of a forest fire. Our first two guests are Geoff and Eva!"
The Aftermath theme tune played and the crowd went wild as Eva and Geoff pushed open the backstage doors and walked out, smiling at both the audience and the hosts as they took their seats on the lower couch on the left.
"Hey guys!" Priya greeted with a smile as Damien waved.
"Damien! Priya! Glad to see you two again!" Eva said happily.
"Yeah!" Geoff added. "You two getting the hosting gig is impressive!"
"Great to have you guys!" Damien told them. "Sorry you two got eliminated first."
"No need to apologize," Geoff said. "We didn't leave completely empty-handed!"
"Wait, how so?" Damien asked in confusion. "You didn't win the money."
"Not like that," Eva answered. "Geoff managed to take pictures of everybody and everything from the first two seasons to put onto his scrapbook."
"And Eva managed to use part of her money to get construction to build her dream gym," Geoff added. "It's still in construction by the way."
“So how did you two manage to become the Aftermath hosts?” Eva asked them.
"The producers took note of me and Damien's relationship and decided on us being the hosts," Priya answered. "I couldn't pass up this opportunity."
"And plus, the other non-competitors either refused or were turned down," Damien added.
“They especially turned me down,” Topher grumbled. “I would've made a great host.”
"That's pretty understandable," Eva said. "I sure as heck don't want to run my mouth longer than I need to."
"Yeah, hosting a show is something I won't be able to perform well in," Geoff added.
"Moving on," Damien said, "how does it feel being the first two voted off the show?"
"Honestly, I gotta say it was kinda like a punch to the gut," Eva admitted. "I know I'm strong, but I didn't think the contestants would team up to vote us out in just the first episodes."
"I didn't mind as much," Geoff interjected. "I mean, I did want to win the million dollars, but given how we competed in every episode of the first season, it seems fair for us to go home early this time around and give the others a shot. And besides, money isn't everything."
"Thanks for your inputs," Priya said as the camera cut over to her and Damien, "I think it's time for a game called 'Truth or Hammer'!" The crowd started to go wild.
A grand tune played as a shot of a golden statue of Lady Justice was shown. The camera slowly pulled back from it, and as the music ended a large wooden mallet swung down from the left and smashed it to pieces.
Damien stood up as the scene cut back to the hosts and guests. "Here's how this works: we ask you a question, and if you give the wrong answer, a huge hammer will swing down on you."
"Uh, what?" Geoff said as he and Eva looked at each other nervously.
"Eva, Geoff, move out of the way as we do a test run!" Priya announced, and a giant wooden hammer immediately swung down at Eva and Geoff, the two barely avoiding the hit.
"Looks like the hammer is working well. How about we get to the questions?" Damien turned his head to the reality TV fan.
"Absolutely," Priya agreed. "So Eva, after winning last season, why do you think things didn't go well for you this time?"
"Like we both said, we were big time threats. If we didn't get voted off in the second episode, one of us likely would've been in the final two again," Eva answered and looked above her, the hammer still remaining in its position.
"I'm a strategic player, and if I wasn't the first season's winner, I obviously would've voted out the strongest player just so I could get closer to winning," Eva continued.
"Good answer!" Damien said. "So Geoff, are you even remotely mad at not winning the first season and getting kicked off in the second?"
Geoff looked up. "I'm not going to lie at all, especially when there's a hammer that can crush me," the party guy said. "I'm kind of upset."
Everyone was silent for a moment before it became clear the hammer wasn't going to swing down. "I mean... it's like you got dreams for this money and to see them flushed down the drain is disappointing," Geoff explained. "But it is what it is. I had a good time competing, and I got news from one of my brothers that my golden tooth can be sold for money, so at least I got some compensation."
"I'd suggest cleaning the tooth before you sell it," Damien advised before looking at the camera and smiling. "So how about we hear from one of the viewers!"
"Let's see," Priya said, looking down at the computer display on the table in front of her. "CunningLinguist316 asks: Who are you rooting for now that you've been eliminated?"
"Well, I'm rooting for Sky," Eva answered. "I can see some parts of myself in her, and she's one of the more worthy players in the game."
"I'm hoping my man Chase wins," Geoff answered. "He's super athletic and fast, and we're sorta like each other in many ways."
"Good to hear your thoughts," Damien told them.
"Exactly!" Priya added. "But I think it's time we bring out our next guest."
The camera panned up to the wide-screen television as footage of the wild child began to play. "Izzy's time on Total Drama Action may have been short," Damien said over a clip of Izzy pushing Ripper out of the way and getting captured by the animatronic monster.
"But it was a thrill ride," Priya added.
“Seriously, Izzy can make a bowl of paste tasty by adding herself to it,” Damien quipped over Izzy getting dropped into the bouncy castle.
"Later on, she suffered a serious blow at the hands of Chef," Priya added over the footage of Izzy falling onto the ground after getting shot in the chest with a paintball and Chef looking over her in worry.
“Chef thinks he's killed her. Look how scared he is!” Damien chimed in as the recap footage paused on Chef; a red circle was drawn around Chef's face.
“Never thought he'd have a sense of humanity. Check this part out! Super hilarious!” Priya giggled over Izzy standing up and laughing about her fake death. “Unfortunately, it was Justin that ruined Izzy's chances when the two took to the stage.” The clips of Justin performing his role and Izzy grumbling over her loss played.
"Dramatic and devious, Izzy will be back for more," Damien continued as the footage showed Izzy getting up from her seat and blowing kisses as the limousine took her away.
The scene returned to the hosts. "Our first guest has impersonated a grizzly and was caught peeing in a pool. Currently number eight on the RCMP's most wanted... Izzy, A.K.A Kaleidoscope!!"
The crowd went wild as the Aftermath theme played, but it suddenly stopped as the hosts looked up at the television. It was now showing footage of a room backstage where Izzy was currently sitting on a couch and eating crackers. The crazy girl had a snack tray-laden table in front of her, and to the left was a television showing the same feed as the one on-stage.
Izzy took notice of the television set. "I'm on TV!" she exclaimed before accidentally spitting out her chewed-up crackers, making the audience laugh quietly. “Oh, oops. Cracker crumbs, you get back here!” She grabbed the crumbs, along with a few grapes and a cracker sandwich with cheese in the middle, and put them all in her cleavage, prompting more laughter.
Izzy stood up and walked out to the stage, the Aftermath theme playing again as she opened the backstage doors and walked out. The audience cheered, and Damien and Priya, along with Eva and Geoff - who were now on the top row of the couches - waved at her, causing her to return the gesture.
“Hello E-Scope!” Priya eagerly greeted her friend.
"Hi, Priya. Hi, Damien," Izzy greeted back as she sat on the couch. "So glad to be here."
“Awesome to have you, but it must be hard losing out on a million bucks,” Damien talked to her.
“Yeah, well... you would know,” Izzy responded, unamusing Damien and Priya while the audience gasped. “Hi, you guys!” she focused on the Peanut Gallery.”
“Hi, Izzy!” Rodney waved.
“Hi, everyone out there in TV land!” Izzy turned to the camera and noticed someone in the audience. “Graham Cracker! That's my old boyfriend Graham! He got a restraining order against me last year. Remember that, Graham?” The audience started mumbling. “So funny. Okay. We were in the courtroom and the judge was all like, "You cannot come within two hundred meters of the plaintiff or you shall suffer the consequences of this courtroom."
After taking a moment to laugh, Izzy continued her story. “The long distance was hard, but we made it work. By the way, Graham, you should get new blinds for your room. What are they made of, lead? I couldn't see a thing with my binoculars! Miss you, Graham Cracker!” She took a cracker out of her cleavage. “I am totally into crackers right now. They're just so flaky!” She giggled and put the cracker into her mouth.
“Kind of like someone we already know,” Damien muttered quietly.
“So Izzy, how did it feel to be the third one voted off the show?” Priya asked.
“My life is an open book. Well, not yet, but it will be once I write it. And you open the book!” Izzy guffawed.
“What was going through your head after being voted off?” Damien questioned.
The music turned sad. “When you realize you're not getting a Gilded Chris Award, well, I can't lie to you,” Izzy sniffed in a rare moment of sadness.
“Oh, it was that painful?” Priya expressed her sympathy.
“No, I just can't lie to you,” Izzy returned to her normal state. “I was outfitted with a lie deterrent microchip that sends shock waves at the first hint of dishonesty. Those are really nice pants, Damien.”
Izzy then got shocked in her neck, demonstrating the microchip inside the body part, but the wild child laughed it off.
“Carrying on,” Damien said uncomfortably. “So what exactly did losing out on the Gilded Chris mean to you?”
“It means I missed out on that buttery chocolate statuette. Ooh, I once took an art class sculpting chocolate nudes, my instructor said I had a real flair for cocoa,” Izzy brought up and earned another electrocution. “Okay, okay, okay. He said I was totally loco. That's what he's actually said.”
"Let's see if you can be honest while answering our questions,” Priya said sneakily, “and the giant hammer will come down if you don't tell the truth!"
“If my implant doesn't get me, the hammer will!” Izzy said, earning laughs from the audience.
Priya and Damien shared a look of bewilderment before facing the camera happily. “Want to know which questions we'll be asking Izzy?" Priya asked the camera.
"Be sure to stay tuned," Damien said. "Right now, we have to take a quick break! We'll be right back!"
The show's logo was shown again, and the 'D' popped out and transitioned the scene to a close-up of a plate of brown mush sitting on a tan-and-goldenrod striped table. Flies were buzzing around it, and part of a familiar torso could be seen standing behind it.
"This episode of the TDA Aftershow," Chef Hatchet said to a catchy elevator music-like jingle as one of the flies buzzing around died and the camera began to zoom out, "was brought to you by Chef's Roadkill Cafe, where Sundays are Bring Your Own Meat!" The camera stopped moving to show the hulking man in full, standing between the table with the plate of mush and a large stone fireplace in the background. In his left hand he held a skewer of a reddish and steaming hunk of meat resting on a plate-like guard piece. The tail of a skunk extended from the top of the meat hunk.
"You hit it, we spit it," Chef said with a motion to the steaming dish in his hand.
(Commercial Break)

I'm hoping someone can help me find a book that I read back in 2012 while working abroad. Unfortunately, I can't remember the title or the author's name, but I do have some details that might ring a bell for someone.
The book was written by an Australian author and is set in the western Australian outback. It revolves around a young English couple who respond to a job vacancy on a farm. Their main responsibility is helping the owner of the farm and taking care of the farmer's ill wife in return for accommodation and food. However, as the story progresses, they discover that they have unknowingly become the subjects of the farmer's hidden camera system. Shockingly, the farmer has been secretly recording and collecting footage of all the previous workers.
I recall the book was published between 2001 and 2011, If anyone has any leads or suggestions on how I can find this book, I appreciate it.