Watch superhead mr marcus

MARCH 25th: Prelude Raid
• P diddy’s houses (Cali/Fla/NY) get raided by the FEDS.. all I remember is his neighbor said it be so bad.. that when I play basketball the ball go over the fence I don’t go over there, I let the ball B. (Referring to diddy house being crazy weird)
MARCH 26th: The Diss (Intro)
• Kendrick sends a diss in like that verse.
APRIL 5th: Sorry, plead the 5th situation.
• J Cole, drops a good little warm up the beef album. Got everyone enticed like what’s poppin? What’s going on? Then sorry I’m not playing video games with y’all no more going outside to ride my bike in the city. Ye droppin soon….
• Kanye tries to make a diss record but gets ignored by everyone - says F it - randomly opens up a porno company… telling us this is what y’all about to be watching a rapPorn-reporting beef battle.
APRIL 19th - MAY 5th: BEEF
• Drakes replies to Kendrick a month later with push ups. Then Kendrick droppin diss hits. Then Drake droppin diss hits. These two start PANDEMIC LEVEL beefing’ 100%.
MAY 5th - MAY 13th: WEIRD SHIT TURNOUT
• Someone shoots at Drake crib & bReachin’
• No more beef or disses, everyone no longer spoiled.
• TDE says beef is over then the riddler Pops up with all this crazy stuff say he gonna end careers
• Labels, Estates & Studios start doing smear campaigns, lawsuiting & BOT attacking
• Randomly the riddler (don’t even wanna say his name anymore) keeps showing up with fraud antics, extorting attempts, and spiraling rabbit hole gimmicks all this, care about why I got fired from my hotel job.
• AK (music influencer) all over the place, can’t figure out the riddler or crack the case. Also catching cases couple allegations deletes his Instagram.
• Bunch of a people affiliated with either side start deleting their Instagram & twitters accounts.
OUTCOMES: Bottomline
• Not like us billboard #1, followed by euphoria & then Drake with Family Matters all in top 10.
• KDOT caught twofer off the billboard.
• Tons of PGlang Promo for KDOT no more TDE
• People still left with NO information either these beef’s lying or rappin about. Theres no solid paperwork style verification or validation. Still all just word of mouth, hearsay, I know he did but I don’t know.
• Kanye not droppin album or is he?
• Drakes on vacation summer vibes.
• KDOT become a mute vanished.
• Diddy aka Mr. FreakOff trying desperately to avoid courts & lawsuits meaning this dude is in some serious HEAT. This whole time diddy been in flames someone need to go check on him make sure he show up to court like trump when the time comes.
That’s my understanding of all this from 10,000ft view like.. that’s all I know fam, is there anything else?

I'm looking to make some new friends to hopefully chat with on a regular basis. Some of my favorite things to watch and talk about are horror movies and true crime.
I am a big horror fan. I love any and all kind of horror, even the B movies. My favorites are probably 80s horror when the movies seemed to be a little more creative and there were plenty of practical effects. Some of my top movies would be Evil Dead, Army of Darkness, Nightmare on Elm Street, Hellraiser, The Conjuring and Cabin in the Woods.
I also enjoy a good true crime story. I used to listen to a lot of podcasts but it's been a while because I get too distracted now. I mostly stick to a few YouTube channels like Mr Ballen and That Chapter. I also love a good true crime documentary.
I have plenty of interests other than horror and true, most are a little more on the nerdy end but I do love listening to music and live music a lot as well. If you'd like to find out more we can chat about that as well. My chat is open for anyone wanting to talk.

I'm looking to make some new friends to hopefully chat with on a regular basis. Some of my favorite things to watch and talk about are horror movies and true crime.
I am a big horror fan. I love any and all kind of horror, even the B movies. My favorites are probably 80s horror when the movies seemed to be a little more creative and there were plenty of practical effects. Some of my top movies would be Evil Dead, Army of Darkness, Nightmare on Elm Street, Hellraiser, The Conjuring and Cabin in the Woods.
I also enjoy a good true crime story. I used to listen to a lot of podcasts but it's been a while because I get too distracted now. I mostly stick to a few YouTube channels like Mr Ballen and That Chapter. I also love a good true crime documentary.
I have plenty of interests other than horror and true, most are a little more on the nerdy end but I do love listening to music and live music a lot as well. If you'd like to find out more we can chat about that as well. My chat is open for anyone wanting to talk.

So, I just got through watching One Piece and I have a few theories. To be honest, I haven’t looked to deep into what's already out there, besides just clarifying some facts for myself online so feel free to show me some things that I have missed. It’s possible some of this is already circulating around. I really just want to try and put my ramblings into one place. Spoilers for One Piece!
Ok, so there's a few separate theories to this but most of it has to do with Blackbeard and his motivations. One thing I find interesting is that Blackbeard, even since he was a part of Whitebeards crew, has been looking for very strong devil fruits and seems to have intimate knowledge of the ones he is seeking. The first one he sought out was the Dark-Dark fruit which among other things seems to be capable of stopping, and possibly stealing other devil fruit powers. One of his crew members, Shiryu, was seen to have the Clear-Clear fruit ability which already belonged to another character. I have to assume he knew about this before he found and acquired this fruit. Which begs the question, why does he know so much about this fruit? He is now able to use that power to steal powers for himself and his crew. We haven't gotten confirmation that the Dark-Dark fruit can do this, but just like a lot of things about this post, I’m going to be assuming that this is the case. In stealing these devil fruit abilities, he has to be very aware of not only what these fruits can do but who is currently using them. Law, in a recent episode, even alludes to the fact that he is hunting down devil fruit users. Now Burgess has the Strong-Strong fruit. Again, where is he getting this information? He obviously knew what Whitebeards devil fruit was capable of from the time he spent with him, and decided that of all the devil fruits he could have, he wanted that ability. Granted, it is an incredibly strong fruit, one worthy of an emperor of the sea, but with his intimate knowledge of devil fruits there had to be a reason Teach went after that one for himself. I think I have a possible answer.
Now this next part, I think is a common theory floating around out there but it is necessary for the rest of what is to come. Teach is one of the only people we have seen have multiple devil fruit abilities. This is crazy enough in itself, but if you notice, he stopped at just the two. Why not just take many devil fruit powers for himself and become the strongest out there? I think it's because he has the Zoan type Cerberus fruit. I mean, his jolly rodger is a Cerberus head. This could possibly make him three beings in one, allowing him to have three devil fruits. A Zoan type Cerberus fruit, a Paramecia fruit in the Quake-Quake fruit, and a Logia in the Dark-Dark fruit. Teach is smart. I think a big part of his motivations led him to intimately knowing about the powers of these three fruits. He knew if he acquired the Cerberus fruit then he could hold three devil fruit abilities and somehow figured out where that fruit was. Then I think he knew that if he joined Whitebeard for long enough he would eventually be led to the Dark-Dark fruit and be able to steal other abilities which were already taken. Then, once he had the opportunity he stole the most important fruit for his purposes, the quake-quake fruit.
Making even more assumptions, we need to look at the ancient weapon Pluton. What we know now is that Pluton is a world ending weapon, specifically a ship that was built a long time ago in Water 7, and that those blueprints were passed down until they reached Franky. We also just found out that it is sunken beneath Wano. Wano is a country that has massive walls built around it. The ancient settlement far below what is now Wano is where the ship actually resides, and those walls would need to be broken to retrieve the ship.
Now we're gonna talk a bit about the World Government. Specifically in regard to the Five Elders. Each one is named in some way after a planet in our solar system. St. Topman Warcury (Mercury), St. Ethan Baron V. Nusjuro (assuming the V. is for Venus), St. Marcus Mars (Mars), St. Shepard Ju Peter (Jupiter), and St. Jaygarcia Saturn (Saturn). The three ancient weapons are the rest of the planets. Uranus, Poseidon (Which the roman name would be Neptune), and Pluton (or Pluto). Poseidon, we know is also a person, Shirahoshi. It would make sense that Uranus and Pluton were also actual, physical people. But Pluton is a ship. However, we have seen before that ships in the One Piece world can have their own spirits, or personas. This has been shown with the Going Merry and the Sunny. The exact lore behind how this happens isnt totally clarified and so I think there are things about it we haven’t been told yet. It's possible that Pluton is not just a magnificent war ship but also holds the spirit of what may have been one of these Elders of the World government. Some kind of all encompassing power that has had major effects on the world in the past.
Now, going back to Blackbeard for a sec, if he does have a Cerberus devil fruit that has more interesting implications. Cerberus is the hound of Hades, the three headed dog that guards the entrance to the underworld. Another name for Hades is Pluto. It is very possible that Blackbeard works for this ancient weapon and that with the powers he has acquired, specifically with the quake-quake fruit, he intends to break the walls of Wano and finally release Pluton. He is, afterall, not too far from Wano at this very moment. It is possible that Pluton has been behind all of Blackbeards motives and actions.
Not only that, but Hades, the guardian of the underworld, is in a way the devil himself. I also think that not only is Pluton a person as well as a ship, but he is the original creator of the devil fruits. This might be one way to explain Blackbeards intimate knowledge of so many devil fruits including where to find them. Now, among the celestial bodies of our solar system that I listed, two were not accounted for. That was Earth and the Sun. I think the Sun is obvious to find. Joyboy. Nika the sun god. But then we have Imu, this new character who seems to be the head of it all. Umi, or Imu backwards, in Japanese means “the sea”. The whole world of One Piece is covered in the sea. So Imu could perhaps be our very own home planet, or at least some kind of embodiment of it. Now, if all of these Elder, these god like beings have some kind of dominion over different aspects of the world, then here is the conclusion to my theory.
Pluton and Imu at some point got into a big fight, likely over the creation of devil fruits. Imu took Plutons spirit and sealed him away in this world ending ship and then sunk him to the bottom of the sea, beneath Wano, putting up those walls to keep him there, and then declaring that all devil fruit users would be cursed by the sea, which he rules over.
Anyway, that's just some thoughts I had, but please help me fill in any things I might be missing and let me hear your ideas on all of this!

Jesus, what a day. It hailed! I had just finished dinner and was about to write to you when it started to rain. I was about to head out to cover up the plants when it sounded like a barrage of bullets were raining down on us. The hail was certainly the size of bullets. I was half-afraid they were going to break the windows. It gave Peach a fright. I had to rush to find something to cover my head so I could go up to cover the plants. Sadly, there were so casualties. Mother had just bought her jalapeno plants this morning and now, most of them are nothing but twigs. My bell peppers were similarly smashed. The herbs and cherry tomatoes survived decently but nothing was completely unscathed. I rushed to cover when I could and then rushed back inside. Later, when he hail actually stopped. I went back out to bring everything I could inside. I don't have confidence that my flimsy plastic cover would hold out in case there's a second storm.
Now I'm soaked. Again. It rained on and off all day; it would go from sunny and warm to dark and wet in seconds. I didn't trust the weather enough to take my laptop out to write so instead, I spent a few hours washing all the lawn furniture. Those birds, particularly the starlings, have covered everything in their shit. They really are the worst guests. Loud, messy, and demanding. Their lucky they're cute. Once I was done cleaning and the weather got sunny again, Peach wanted out. Again, I didn't trust the sky not to rain, for good reason given the hail, so I didn't write outside. Instead, I sat out on the stoop, listened to music, and watch nature in motion.
We had a lot of little guests in the yard today. The starlings, of course, were as loud and intrusive as any storm, but they weren't the only birds around. There were several pairs of finches swooping through the bushes. A pair of males were fighting while a little female watched, I don't think either of them impressed her. Peach watched a mourning dove on the roof for a few minutes and missed the giant toad hopping onto the lawn. I made sure to tell Mother not to let the dog out. He was a giant, handsome thing. So many shades of green, lightest at the top of his head and darker going down. The little discs on either side of his head, apparently it's called the tympanum, was bright yellow, like mini-suns. Peach eventually spotted him and I was so sure she was going to pounce. I followed her as she stalked closer but luckily, she was actually pursing a tasty but of grass by the fence. She couldn't care less about Mr. Toad. Knowing Cooper would be so kind, I took the toad over to the gate. He was a queer fellow. Very polite. He only hopped away from me once and then politely let me scoop him up without fuss. I didn't even need to use both my hands. He just sat in my palm and stared up at me with that strange, semi-sentient expression animals make when they know you're helping them. He didn't even hop away immediately when I brought my hand to the ground. He sat in my palm for almost a full minute before suddenly springing away. I wouldn't mind seeing him in the backyard again if only I didn't have to worry about Cooper eating him.
Now, there's only one last thing to write to you about. My writing. I wrote last night, just as I said I would, from 10:30p.m. to 12:30 a.m. I have no idea how much I wrote. I was to exhausted to count last night and now, I can't recall what I wrote then and what I wrote the day before. Th chapter still isn't quite done. It is in the annoying stage where I could see myself finishing tonight or maybe it will stake me all week. I hate that stage. May is nearly half over and I still only have four chapters written. I am slowly coming to terms with the fact that I probably won't finish the book before halloween. Some deadlines aren't meant to be met. They inspire, I suppose. They are a light to follow and then walk past when you meet them empty handed. Even if the book isn't finished in October, I'll keep writing past October. I'll write until it's done. I want to finish the book and that is a good enough reason to write everyday, whenever I can bring myself to but there's no point running myself into the ground for a few paragraphs. If I can't finish a chapter one day, I'll finish it the next. The when matters less than the why. I want it written and that is reason enough to keep going.
Wish me luck.
Would you believe, I already wrote this whole letter to you and then wen't to publish it, only for me to realize I didn't tag the subreddit, and then when I do tag the subreddit, the whole letter deletes and I have to write it all over again? That would be infuriating wouldn't it?
Oh, well. What was first written if gone but what I've re-written might be better in some ways. Or worse. At least it is written.
Please don't delete again.
Yours & Mine,
S.O. Skinner

I posted this in the theories thread before but wanted to share, I've been thinking about it a lot more.
I have a theory about these names, and I don't think they're people. I think they're vague references red wines.

• Chloe is a Red Blend from California, 2016.
• Sam Casa Cassara is a Red Blend from California, 2019.
• Sophia is a Cabernet Sauvignon from Bulgaria, 1998-2015.
• Marcus is a Malbec from Argentina, 2017.

Matty Healy famously drinks red wine, and even does it on stage during the latest tour. It's often that he picks a cheap or mid range Malbec or Red Blend. I'm not a 1975 fan so this was new information to me, but apparently there's even groups of fans who call themselves "Mattys Malbecs" who try to figure out which brands of wine he picks for different countries on tour. None of the listed above are wines that he drank on stage publicly, but they are mostly cheap reds (Minus Chloe, who is $80), and one of them was even a Malbec, his favorite. (Possibly unrelated and definitely a stretch, but one red wine that he drank publicly on stage and even repeated more than once was one called "Prophecy" a Malbec from Argentina, 2019, which 👀)
It's also worth noting that in the 1975 song "When We Are Together", there is a lyric "you ask about the cows wearing my sweater" which may or may not be a direct reference to Tussock Jumper, a - you guessed it - cheap 2019 Malbec from Argentina where the cow is wearing a sweater on the label. Considering all the literal trolling Taylor did to connect 1975 lyrics and references into this album, I could see her making a red wine label reference.
I think that Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus the song isn't completely about timing not working out because they were always dating other people, but more so that something was always in the way of them being able to connect. Even when things all lined up for them to date and they both were single, Taylor still felt like his addiction ruined her fantasy because something was still in the way. I think "hands in the hair" was more of a metaphor for him always carrying a bottle. This also makes connections to the song Maroon (where Taylor talks about several things connecting Maroon to Poets).

• Your hologram stumbled into my apartment, hands in the hair of somebody in darkness, named Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus
• You needed me but you needed drugs more. (she also mentions him trying to buy pills in The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived)
• I crashed into you like so many wrecks do (Chloe et al)// The burgundy on my tee shirt when you splashed your wine into me (Maroon)
• Will that help my memory fade from this scarlet maroon? (Chloe et al) // The lips I used to call home, so scarlet it was Maroon (Maroon, his lips were red from the wine!)

I also think that "just say I loved you the way that you were" implies a lot of double meaning. Here are the different ways to interpret it. You could take it as Taylor loving Matty at his worst and feeling guilty that she couldn't stay and watch addiction destroy his life. You could take it as Matty telling her that he loved who she used to be and not who she is now. You could take it a lot of different ways.
Anyway all of this is speculation, of course. It was just some details I happened to connect in a theory and wanted to discuss.

Hi! As the title implies, I have amassed quite a large collection of games and am looking to trade or sell some of them.
Here is my Wishlist for reference: Steam Wishlist
The games, alphabetized, are as follows:

• .HACK/G.U. LAST RECODE
• 112 Operator
• 911 Operator
• A Juggler's Tale
• A Story Beside
• Aces & Adventures
• Aliens: Fireteam Elite
• Ambition: A Minuet in Power
• Amnesia: Rebirth
• Amnesia: The Dark Descent + Machine for Pigs
• Arcade Paradise
• Banners of Ruin
• Black Skylands
• Blade Assault
• Book of Demons
• Broken Age
• Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons
• Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons
• Builder Simulator
• Call of the Sea
• Chicken Police (Paint it Red!)
• Children of Silentown
• Citizen Sleeper
• Code Vein
• Conan Chop Chop
• Crying Suns
• Curse of the Dead Gods
• Dagon: By HP Lovecraft -- The Eldritch Box DLC
• Dear Esther: Landmark Edition
• Deceive Inc
• Demon Turf
• Destroy All Humans 2! Reprobed
• Destroyer: The U-boat Hunter
• Disciples: Liberation
• Draw Slasher
• Drawful 2
• Driftland: The Magic Revival
• Dungeon of the Endless
• DV: Rings of Saturn
• EarthX
• Edge of Eternity
• Eldest Souls
• Elex II
• Embr
• Encased
• Eternal Threads
• Evan's Remains
• Expeditions: Rome
• Expeditions: Viking
• First Class Trouble
• Fobia: St. Difina Hotel
• Foretales
• Founder's Fortune
• Friends Vs. Friends
• From Space
• Gameguru
• Go Home Dinosaurs
• God Eater 3
• Golden Light
• Golf Gang
• Greedfall
• Grime: Tinge of Terror
• Grow: Song of the Evertree
• Hardspace: Shipbreaker
• Hero's Hour
• Hexologic
• Homeworld Remastered Collection
• Homeworld: Deserts of Kharak
• Honey, I Joined a Cult
• Hot Brass
• If Found...
• In Sound Mind
• Inmost
• Iron Danger
• Kaichu - The Kaiju Dating Sim
• Killsquad
• Kraken Academy!!
• Last Call BBS
• Later Daters
• Lawn Mowing Simulator
• Life is Strange: True Colors
• Lords and Villains
• Lust for Darkness
• Lust from Beyond: M Edition
• Magicka
• Meeple Station
• Merchant of the Skies
• Metal Hellsinger
• Midnight Fight Express
• Mind Scanners
• Monaco
• Monster Train First Class + DLC
• Moon Hunters
• Mr. Prepper
• Nebuchadnezzar
• NecroWorm
• Neverout
• Nex Machina
• Nobody Saves the World
• Oaken
• Olli Olli World
• OMNO
• Operation: Tango
• Orbital Racer
• OTXO
• Out of Reach: Treasure Royale
• Ozymandias: Bronze Age Empire Sim
• Pac-Man Museum +
• Patch Quest
• Pathway
• Pawnbarian
• PAYDAY 2 + Bonus
• Phoenix Point: Year 1 Edition
• Pikuniku
• Pixplode
• Police Stories
• Prodeus
• Quantum Break
• Radio Commander
• Railroad Corporation
• Raji: An Ancient Epic
• Rebel Inc: Escalation
• Red Solstice 2: Survivors
• Revita
• Roadwarden
• Roarr! Jurassic Edition
• Roguebook
• Rollerdrome
• Rustler
• Saints Row Remastered
• Say No! More
• Scorn
• Scourgebringer
• SCP: Secret FIles
• Shapez + Puzzle DLC
• Shing!
• Shotgun King: The Final Checkmate
• Siege Survival: GloriaVictis
• Slinger VR
• Snowtopia: Ski Resort Builder
• Soulblight
• Souldiers
• Spirit Of The Island
• Suchart: Genius Artist Simulator
• Super Magbot
• Supraland
• Tales of Vesperia™: Definitive Edition
• Telefrag VR
• Temtem
• The Amazing American Circus
• The Forgotten City
• The Gunk
• The Invisible Hand
• The Legend of Tianding
• The Pale Beyond
• The USB Stick Found in the Grass
• The Walking Dead + 400 Days
• There is No Light: Enhanced Edition
• This War of Mine
• Tin Can
• Toejam & Earl: Back in the Groove
• TOEM: A photo adventure
• Tooth and Tail
• Treasure Hunter Simulator
• Tribes of Midgard
• Turbo Golf Racing
• Two Point Campus
• UNmetal
• Vagante
• Wandersong
• Wargroove
• Warhammer 40k: Chaos Gate
• Warhammer Age of Sigmar: Realms of Ruin Ultimate Edition
• WARSAW
• We Are Alright
• Who Pressed Mute on Uncle Marcus?
• Windjammers 2
• X-Morph: Defense + European Assault,
• Yes, Your Grace
• Yoku's Island Express

Hi I’m looking for female friends 40+ years old from all corners of the world you don’t need to be Scotland but would be happy if so.
I enjoy reading, cycling, watching documentaries and You Tube stuff mostly Mr Ballen as his stuff is Strange,Dark & Mysteriously and what I kind of enjoy watching plus other channels roughly the same. I live near Edinburgh which is an awesome place and enjoy visiting Glasgow once in a while usually for a concert / show.
I love dogs too
If interested please DM it’d be appreciated and I’ll get back to you soon as I can ( remember the time differences 😂)#r4r

The following is an original work of fan fiction. It will only make sense if you’ve read Corpies and SP4
“Fucking bullshit cock-garglers!”, Hannah, formerly known as Hexcellent, uttered louder than she intended.
Luckily, she was sitting by herself in a third floor private room in the brand new wing of the Sizemore undergraduate library. On the main floor, any sound louder than a fart would’ve earned a collective, “shhhhh,” and annoyed stares from half the people studying. And frankly, as difficult as these Gen Chem practice exams were, the former PEERS would be spitting out a few more expletives before she was done.
Hannah glanced at her watch and sighed heavily. It was 4:43 PM. She still had two and a half hours before she’d need to head to the lift to meet Devon and Kacey, two other first year HCP students, for some evening training. Okay, you got this girl. You just fucked up some amped criminal supers, you can handle goddamn mass to mole composition formula and stoichiom-whatever-the-fuck, she thought to herself. With resigned determination, the HCP student began swiping through class presentation slides on her tablet, reviewing problems she had trouble with. For a solid 2 hours her eyes never left the material and she honestly started to feel more comfortable with what she needed to know. Hannah was in the zone. That was until she was interrupted by a knock on the door.
“What. The actual. Fuck?“, Hannah said slowly as she looked up towards the door and the adjacent window.
The summoner saw two boys standing outside , one of whom was a short muscular guy with dark brown hair that she recognized. She was fairly certain his name Lucas, and that he was another HCP first year. He was in the alternative class though, while Hannah was in combat, so they hadn’t been around each other a whole hell of a lot. The other seemed familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger or on where she’d seen him before. They were each moving their mouths, and pointing a finger at themselves and into the room clearly asking if they could come in. Hannah got up and opened the door.
“Hey, Helen, right? You think that we can study in here with you? All the good tables downstairs are full. I just met Tristan here and he’s in the same predicament as me,” said Lucas before he lowered his voice to a whisper, leaned his head in, and pointed to the boy he referred to as Tristan. “He’s in the same ummm…special program as us. In his 2nd year.”
With that information, Hannah realized where she’d seen that guy. He was at the freshman party hosted by the second years. She remembered thinking that he came off as kind of a douchebag by the way he was standing around, nursing the same drink with a smug look on his face the whole time.
“Yeah, sure, whatever. As long as you guys dont act like complete assholes and make a bunch of noise. I gotta focus for about another 30 minutes then the room is yours. Cool?”
“Cool,” the boys said in unison.
“And it’s Hannah by the way. Not Helen. You’re Lucas, right?” She held out her hand towards him.
Lucas politely shook her hand. “Sorry about that Hannah. I’m terrible at remembering names,” he said with a slight shrug. “Just gonna grab a seat on this side so I can stay outta your way.” He held out his arm towards the opposite side of the table from where Hannah had been sitting and started walking over there.
Tristan walked in and closed the door behind himself. He gave Hannah a simple head nod and smirk but never formerly introduced himself. Very similar to his demeanor at the party; as though he couldn’t be bothered.
Yep, arrogant douche, she thought. Then she pictured the look of surprise on the 2nd year’s face if she were to manifest her big furry friend to accidentally-on-purpose kick him in the balls.
Hannah had often wondered if anyone in the HCP realized her summon was the same giant bunny that helped save Brewster almost a year ago. Titan had told her the DVA would hide any association between the tower-sized rabbit and her PEERS persona but she figured that once classmates saw her summon for the first time they’d make the connection. That didn’t seem to be the case though, at least as far as she knew. It helped that when she summoned Hopcules these days, he was about the same height and stature as Titan. None of her combat training took place outside yet, so no one in HCP got to see her manifestation at his full potential size. He’d also taken on more humanistic facial expressions lately and had been appearing in a variety of different clothes and accessories. Hell, the last time she trained with Kacey, the hulking rabbit materialized in a denim vest, a blue bandanna on his head, metal spiked leather bracelets around his wrists, brass knuckles, and with gold chains around his neck. Kacey couldn’t stop laughing during their sparring session until Hopcules had her bound and hog tied. Even with her enhanced strength, she couldn’t break free of what evidently weren’t just plain gold necklaces. It hadn’t dawned on Hannah until later that, the night before, she’d fallen asleep to an old 80s action flick about a renegade cop taking on a vicious street gang. She wondered if tonight her childhood protector would show up in a lab coat, holding a periodic table. The Sizemore freshman briefly shook her head to snap herself out of her thoughts and sat down to resume her work. She’d gotten fully back into her study mode until…
“Yo, does sound carry out of this room?” Tristan asked.
“Seriously?! You do remember that whole bit about NOT being obnoxious assholes, right?”Hannah asked incredulously.
“Damn girl chill. I just wanted to ask my guy here a question and didn’t want to risk being overheard. You should smile more girl. You know what I mean?“
Relax. Breathe. You don’t want to be seen as a troublemaker. It would not be a good idea to kick this fucker’s ass while inside of the school library. Or would it be? No. No. Definitely not a good idea, she thought to herself.
“Well unless you two were standing outside of here practicing at being mimes as a back up in case you don’t make it to graduation, I’m pretty sure this room is well insulated to sound.”
Tristan grunted in indignation and sarcastically replied, “you’re hilarious.”
“I’m definitely going all the way through. No way I won’t graduate,” Lucas chimed in, seemingly oblivious to the tension that’d just arisen between the other two people in the room. I’ve known I wanted to be a hero ever since I was little. My parents have spent a fortune sending me to an elite training camp for the last seven summers to make sure I’d be prepared as possible for the HCP. Plus I’ve had personal coaches work with me for years on new ways to use my power.”
“Bro! That’s what I was wanting to ask you about. I saw the logo on on your bag. Holy shit, did you do the SETA training camps?” asked Tristan.
“Yeah, I take it you’ve heard of it.”
“Hell yeah I have. The Super Elite Training Academy. Who hasn’t? I hear those workouts are so intense. No wonder you’re so jacked. You must’ve been in great shape for your first day here. Mad props bro. Is it true you get to fight against human looking robot…”
“Hey! Tweedledum and tweedle-dickless, I honestly didn’t know there was such a thing as a two-man circle jerk, so I really appreciate the show but is there any chance I can get back to work without any more distractions?“
Lucas had mixture surprise and guilt run across his face. He opened his mouth as though he was about to say something, but glanced over to Tristan and stayed silent.
“What? You mad because you’re realizing you can’t stack up against the competition. Guess what. My guy here isn’t the only one who’s been preparing for this program long before he was admitted. I’ve been getting ready for years too. Trained in jiu-jitsu and boxing on top of honing my super abilities. Have you even done anything? Or did you just apply and cross your fingers?”
Hannah could see where this was going in. She decided in that moment to just let it play out. Fuck it, she thought. She was basically done studying. Even if she failed the final, which she was confident that she wouldn’t, she’d still pass the class. She stood up, pressed an icon on her tablet touchscreen and began putting other things away in her bag while she spoke. “Actually, I never had any special training as a kid. To tell you the truth, I shouldn’t even be here. I got into some trouble years ago. The kind of trouble that normally prevents one from getting admitted into an HCP. But, I was on a PEERS team for years and I got to do a lot of…
“Ha! You’re telling us you’re fucking a Corpie. Can you believe this, dude?“ Tristan nudged Lucas, looking for his agreement. To his credit, Lucas appeared visibly uncomfortable and leaned away from the other boy.
“Don’t know what it says about your class if they’re letting Corpies in,” continued Tristan with a sneer. “I guess you really do need to study. Obviously you’re the one that needs a back up plan. And here’s another thing little girl. It’s not just about how much you’ve trained beforehand, it’s also about who you know. And I know people. My mom‘s best friend is related to the Hero, Unseelie. So I’ve actually met a few Heroes who I’m sure will vouch for me when the time comes. Pity you can’t say the same. We all know Heroes don’t give two shits about Corpies.”
For a moment Hannah’s face expressed a flat affect. Then suddenly she burst into laughter. And not just some derisive laugh as though she was trying to convey to Tristan that she didn’t take his comments seriously. But an eye watering, oxygen depriving, honest to the Gods belly laugh. The kind of laugh that would’ve been contagious had she been around friends. She carried on for a minute until her amusement died down to a just a mild chortle. Hannah wiped her eyes. “You know people?“ She started laughing again, even louder than the first time. “Oh my Gods. Stop. Stop. I can’t breathe. Is this your fucking power?” Hannah was bent over at the waist still laughing hysterically, holding out one finger as to communicate, “give me a second.” After another minute, she wiped her eyes again, took a big gulp of air, and collected herself. “Woooh. Now that was some funny fucking shit.”
“Who in the hell do you think…“ Tristan started to say through gritted teeth.
“No no no. Please don’t get me started again. I don’t think my ribs can take it,“ said Hannah still chuckling some. “Let’s see what have I done and who do I know? You know I always knew that eventually I’d tell people about this, I just didn’t think it would go down like this.” The summoner raised her hand, then slowly curled it into a fist. Standing 3ft tall and leaning into the corner so as not to be visible to anyone who happened to be looking into the room at that moment, was Hopcules, adorned in the same armor he’d worn on the day he helped to save Brewster. “Look familiar to anyone?”
“That looks like the giant rabbit that fought robots with Titan. Hare-a-clees or something like that. My little sister has like 5 of its t-shirts,” Lucas responded.
“Wow kid, you really are shit with remembering names. Hop-cu-les is the name I gave him when I was just a child. Surprised the shit outta me that he came out the size of a skyscraper when those robots nearly killed me and my team, ” Hannah stated nonchalantly as she waved her hand and made Hopcules fade away.
With a grudging realization, Tristan began to ask, “wait, you’re not actually saying…”
“Oh look, captain mc-douche-nozzle is catching on. Somebody give the kid a prize. Yes, dumbass, I’m actually saying I fought with Titan, yes, thee fucking Titan, with every other Hero team in Brewster to stop those mechs from destroying the entire city. I’m saying the strongest hero alive is my personal mentor and it was his recommendation that got me into this program.”
Lucas looked back and forth between Hannah and Tristan having already realized that the sophomore might be one of those guys who’d lash out over his perceived inferiority. Lucas was so curious though he had to ask, “but… But, that rabbit is everywhere these days. Not just T-shirts. Toys, a cartoon, and I just read there’s going to be a next-gen console video game based on his character. If you own the rights to that image, you’d be loaded.“
“Eh,” Hannah said with shrug. “Youre leaving out the movie deal Lenny just got for me, but not something I talk about too much . It leaves me enough to be comfortable and to be able to donate a library wing to the university thats giving me a shot at being a hero.” Hannah responded. She gave Tristan a quick wink and glanced over her shoulder towards the door.
Tristan looked in the same direction and noticed something he hadn’t bothered paying attention to before, a small engraving on the center of the door of a bipedal rabbit. This would’ve been the most surprising thing that he’d seen since he set foot in the room if it wasn’t for the photo that appeared on Hannah’s tablet now facing him. It was an image of five people: Graham De Soto, the new head of the DVA, Titan in his iconic Hero costume, Dean Jackson, a large muscular young man with a shit eating grin who Tristan didn’t recognize, and another person in a generic gray mask, presumably female, and wearing a smile of malicious enjoyment, the same as the woman standing before him.
Hannah saw what caught his attention and picked up her tablet. “Oh, did you notice this? I love this picture. Titan called me in for back up as a Temporary Emergency Hero Asset. We beat the shit out of a literal army of enhanced criminal supers and took this picture after everything calmed down. All the other HCP deans were there too. Mr. Desoto actually told me if I ever needed a favor, he owed me one.” Hannah wore a wistful expression as she thought back on that day with fondness.
“Anyway, I gotta get outta here. S’posed to meet up with my training partners. Cause no matter what your background is or who you know, no one is a shoe-in for the final 10. Lucas, feel free to meet us in the combat cells tonight if you want to get a work out in and get tired of hanging out with this fuckwad. Later losers!” Hannah said this last part as she turned around and headed towards door while holding up her middle finger for all to see.
Tristan was obviously livid. His hands had been visibly shaking as he stood and listened to all the ways this 1st year had accomplished more than he’d even thought possible for student. Who does this little bitch think she is? She’s full of shit. She has to be. I’ll show her. From his elbows down, Tristan‘s arms began to darken. In seconds the two appendages looked like small tree trunks, with his fingers elongating into barbed tendril-liked branches rapidly moving towards Hannah.
Although Lucas had worked for years to improve his ability to cast his energy based illusionary environments-referred to by one quirky coach in the past as a “holodeck”- speed was an element that he continued to struggle with. He began to cast a simple illusion of darkness, so as to blind Tristan, but he knew almost immediately that it wouldn’t reach him in time. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw furry white movement. The miniature Hopcules had reappeared and was running towards the back of the chair Tristan had been sitting in. With a parkour maneuver that would make Jackie Chan jealous, Hopcules leapt from the floor to the chair, then from the chair to the rear wall. He torpedoed off of the wall with the force of both hind paws and made contact Tristan’s head, knocking the arrogant second year to the floor. He laid there dazed and confused about what had just struck him as his branches retracted and his arms returned to normal. The summon vanished before he even touched the ground.
Hannah smiled as she exited the room. Thanks be to the Gods. I was hoping that piece of shit would try something so I could have self-defense as an excuse. Kacey and Devon better be ready. I’m already warmed up.

Red brick castles stacked the suburban streets. Divided by side yards and dogs barking. The sun laid crisp over the spliced horizon, spilling yolk over the withering lawns.
Henry waited in his lawn chair beside the mailbox. As his body had taken recent liberties, he'd remained fit from his army training. His throat rumbled as he checked his silver watch. Finally, the postman flushed the corner, and stumbled to Henry's curb, to his bag, then to his letter.
"...you're late, Lenny," Henry pulled his readers.
Lenny, the paperboy, regained his choppy breath. Coke-bottle glasses stored his tortoise eyes. They surveyed the concrete corridor they called Gerben Street, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bronson, I really am. I never meant to keep you waiting... I'm sorry, Henry."
Henry didn't answer the boy, tore the envelope with ape's elegance. Pranced the script of his lover's ink. The letter had traveled from Paris, France, skidded the black waves of the Atlantic Ocean, hitched buses, bikes, and buggies, all to kiss the smooth of Henry's palms.
The words were from his lover, Amélie, he'd met at war in an escapade to Bordeaux. It was here he'd kissed her cherry cheeks, and they'd made love only a year before.
Amélie talked of finer things, life and love and silver tastes. She yearned for Henry, and hadn't taken a lover since. Sleeping all alone, cold as the sleepy ocean in between them.
Love,
Amélie
Those four letters, strung together. Followed by that name, that haunted, horrible, beautiful name. The music of Henry's life, a distant harp in a sway of windy trees.
Henry spent all night beneath a dancing candle. Scribbling, nixing, finding the perfect words. Rifling through Shakespeare, and Plath, and Wilde. It was at the page's end, Henry wrote, what he knew he'd write in the weeks and weeks before:
"Oh, Amélie, won't you visit me? Here in the States? I know you don't like the food. I don't either, but with each other, me with you, and you with me, we'll ever, never notice."
He entered the post office that morning, and his reply was off to France. The weeks and weeks had passed again, crawling to November's end. Henry waited by that same mailbox, and waited, and waited, but nothing arrived in the days after.
He entered the post office that cold evening, and met the clerk, who's eyes tired with crescent glints. Henry demanded his mail be delivered to him, scolding the patient clerk, providing his address thereafter.
The clerk, a powdered, faded beauty of a woman, "we had a change in paperboys. We're putting a new employee on that route by Gerben Street."
"Oh no, that's a shame," Henry dampened. He enjoyed the paperboy, Lenny, and his weekly company. He'd felt shame for their final, frustrated exchange. The clerk retreated to a backroom, and returned with a letter from France.
Henry couldn't help himself. He ripped and ripped the note naked. Read the first and fourth and tens of lines.
"There isn't a night I don't think of you. I wander stars wondering if you do too. Your touch, your breath, your arms. I receive the memory fondly in a summer's dream, and I don't forget a word you've said along the way. I love you, Henry Bronson. And this ocean, though far and wide, won't stop the heart from sailing. Because our children will know silver dreams too, and what parents we'd be to not make them true. You are the love of my life. The music of my night.
I'll arrive in Savannah on the evening of Christmas Eve.
Love,
Amélie"
The words strummed his chest. Henry rose his eyes to the world anew, because Amélie, his beloved Amélie——was coming to visit at last.
Henry was paralyzed in weeks to come. His lawn, unattended, his sink, stacked with dishes. He stared his only photo of Amélie, smiling at her blushed eyes for hours and hours and hours. In this love he'd been born again, a new meaning in every little thing.
It was finally time——Christmas Eve. Snow peppered the sheets of the crystal tarmac. Henry entered the airport, propelled by the stride of anxious confidence. He coursed the halls, until he'd arrived at the final gate:
PARIS, FRANCE [ARRIVING IN 4 MINUTES]
Minutes became years, years decades. He walked to the bar and asked for a glass of water. Flushed his throat with fretting sips, and noticed the custodian who mopped spilled coffee. A familiar face, though, Henry couldn't pin him. He approached, and to his surprise, it was the old paperboy, Lenny.
They shared a laugh and began to catch up. Henry's eyes flirting with the gate:
[ARRIVING IN 2 MINUTES]
Lenny rambled, "they canned me without warning, right before the holidays. I've struggled to make due, but——I guess it's all worked out okay," he paused, "funny enough——I was en route to deliver on your street before I got the call. Gerben Street, right?"
[ARRIVING IN 1 MINUTE]
Henry's heart thumped like a derby horse. He glanced the snow that flaked the window.
"Yeah, Gerben."
"Gerben, yeah, I thought I remembered," Lenny nodded, "you know, Mr. Bronson, I think I left your letter in my backpack, actually. Would you like me to check?"
"Sure."
Lenny was off, and as he left, Frenchmen, women, and decadent Americans flooded the gate's entrance. Pulling luggage, sighing stretches, lending hugs. Henry watched carefully for his cherry, silver dream. To each face, he paid his attention. Lenny nudged Henry, handed over the envelope.
"Thanks," Henry took the note, "Merry Christmas... I'll see you around, I hope."
"Sure," Lenny shuddered in embarrassment. His somber step parted from Henry, he replied with a mumbled, "Merry Christmas."
In the later minutes, Henry didn't see Amélie, or even a confused resemblance. He waited till the plane was empty, till the Spain-bound passengers began to board. He even checked the desk, where a pretty-faced lady exclaimed, "no Amélie here, I'm sorry." With great disappointment, Henry exited the airport, never leaving the sight of his fluttered feet.
Even for Henry, a man of hope and perseverance, it was too hard not to cry. He hailed a taxi, directed the driver with snotty tremble, and soon enough, he was home in his red brick house, at home where the houses stacked the streets, and the streets tickled with frost.
In that dark room, where Henry wrote Amélie, was where the music died. Where the wind had swallowed the galloped harp. Henry cried, cursed himself a fool. A fool, a fool, a fool. He'd hoped as a child, now damned a hopeless recluse. His sorrow turned to confusion, confusion to frustration, frustration to rage anew.
He leapt from his chair, struck a match, lit a wick, plucked a pen, placed his paper, and before the ink would paint the page, before he'd damn Amélie to Hell, her and her cherry cheeks, he remembered the letter the paperboy had given him.
Henry removed the crumpled letter from his coat, peeled the stick of the envelope. Slipped the letter from its sleeve, pulled his readers, and began to prance the ink in reading.
Amélie, again, talked of finer things. Gifts, and gods, and golden fountains.
She couldn't wait any longer, to meet her beloved Henry.
She couldn't sleep another night, with this space between.
The black waves, the buses, bikes and buggies. All the things from her to he.
It should not wait. No, it could not wait any longer.
Henry dabbed his eyes clear and clean, as he read the final words:
"Henry, oh, Henry, I never meant to keep you waiting. You never quite knew what you meant to me."
Henry lowered his eyes to the page's end, to the bottom of the longing letter:
Love,
Yours Truly,
Lenny

Edited: The title was supposed to say that: I may be a Petty jerk, but at least I got away from a toxic "friend. Auto correct changed it to Jersey, and I couldn't edit the actual title.
Fair Warning, this is going to be a LONG post, but I will try to dilute it as much as possible.
About 12 years ago I left the world of retail (of which I have MANY stories) to begin a career in childcare. Some people prefer different titles, Nanny, Babysitter, Parents' Helper, Childcare Provider, etc. To be honest each of those titles are suitable in different situations.
The first family that I Nannied for went on for about 4 years, and then on again off again for another year. Through this family, I met "Wendy" and her family. Wendy went out of her way to be friendly with me, and would often ask me to babysit her kids (B5 and G1).
At one point, I had moved on to working with another family for a few months. Sadly, that ended due to the parents getting a divorce, and they moved further away.
Wendy found out that I was unemployed and asked that I Nanny for her kids. She was also pregnant with her 3rd at the time. I agreed at a slightly discounted rate because we were "friends". I realized too late that that was a HUGE mistake on my part.
Wendy's live in boyfriend "Cole" also had 3 kids from a previous relationship. B15, G8, and G6 lived with their mother. Yes, am aware of the closeness in age of Wendy and Cole' B5 and his G6. I chose to keep my mouth shut.
Now prepare yourselves for the Rollercoaster of emotions I dealt with with this family.
Initially, both Wendy and Cole were employed. I would come over 5 days a week for 8 to 10 hour days, depending upon whether Wendy got home on time. Here is where my discounted rate bit me in the butt.... $300 a week was still complained about. Wendy asked that I not leave Cole alone with their kids because he basically ignored them and refused to change diapers. I felt pretty icky about that, but agreed. Now I lived 45 minutes away without traffic. I would often leave my house early in anticipation of possible traffic. If I arrived early, I wasn't allowed in until she our alloted time of 7am. I didn't have a key, and would often be left waiting on the porch an extra 15 minutes past our time. If I knew I was too early, I parked around the corner and ate breakfast. Wendy and Cole both got very irritated if I wasn't their door precisely at 7 am. It was a headache that I chose to avoid.
Over the first month, I realized that G2 was emotionally abused by Wendy. She constantly said to or in front of the child how much she hated dealing with the wild child. How she wished G2 was more well behaved like B5. She even wrote unkind things on Facebook, asking someone to take her on the weekend while I was off.
This took a toll on poor G2, obviously. She would get violent with me first thing in the mornings : Hitting, kicking, biting, pulling my hair, throwing things at me, or what ever popped into her mind. Eventually, once Wendy left for work G2 would calm down and become an absolute delight.
When B5 started school, Wendy took a new job that allowed her to work from home at times. Those were not fun days! I asked if I could bring G2 to my house where I have an outdoor play area, a playroom, plenty of kid movies, crafts, books, music, and local playgrounds. At first the car rides were torture with G2 screaming bloody murder for at least half of the 45 minute drive. When she got used to the new routine, those drives became pleasant. Her violent tendencies disappeared when we were spending the days at my home. The drawback was that I also had to drive her home in time to get B5 off the bus.
During school breaks, I also had B5, and if they were visiting G8 and G6. B15 stayed at Wendy's house and just did his own thing. If you thought G2 was torture in toddler form, these two girls would have made Nanny McPhee grow a few more moles, a hunch back, and closed feet.
B5 would get a little bored, being that he was the only boy that was understandable. I purchased an array of boy friendlier toys to entertain him. I already had a lot of girl friendly toys either purchased or gifted from the first family that I had worked with. Of course I had plenty of gender neutral items too.
Wendy and Cole didn't give 2 sh*ts and a shave if the kids watched TV all day, went out to a playground or museum, or were driven 2 hours away, as long as I got them home on time. I easily spent an entire paycheck on activities, gas, food (which they didn't pack), and toys over 2 weeks watching all 4 kids. By the by, when asked for additional money when I did have all 4, Wendy not so politely informed me that the kids are entertain each other, so my job should be easier with all 4.
My husband and I discussed a few times whether I should look for something else. Inevitably the people pleaser in me actually felt guilty even considering it. Yup, I was apparently a glutton for punishment. Gratefully, my income was just extra, for an nice meal out occasionally, gifts for birthdays and holiday, extra hobbies, and basic groceries.
Just before Wendy gave birth to their new baby, she became unemployed. Logically, one would think this was my easy out. NOPE!! I became more of a Mother's Helper / Nanny. At this point Wendy and Cole were beginning to look for a larger house to rent. I did more walk through than I can count. She even asked me to tour a couple without her, and to bring G2 and B5 so she could get her nails done and take a nap. (Seriously, I toured houses on her list without her!)
As we spent more and more time together, I began to learn FAR FAR more about her bedroom life than I could ever desire. G2 and I spent much less time in the peace of my home, and way too much in Wendy's company. G2's behavior began to deteriorate slowly, causing Wendy to lose her temper with her far too easily. This completely broke my heart. I TRIED to redirect them both, and expressed my concern to Wendy. Of course, she then turned her anger towards me.
Wendy would openly discuss her theories about Cole in front of her kids. She claimed that he was cheating on her with his ex because he would shower immediately after seeing her to pick up or drop off the kids. He often made those drives directly after work though. Maybe he was cheating, maybe not. I honestly don't know.
Wendy also enjoyed gossiping about absolutely anybody. The parents of the first family that worked with were having marital issues. This was a favorite topic of hers. Wendy told me about every unkind word her mother uttered in her direction. The apple obviously didn't fall far from the tree here. I was told lots of personal information about people I didn't know. The gossip made me very uncomfortable. I told her that I would prefer we not discuss the lives of people who weren't around to speak on their own behalf. This fell on deaf ears.
I became quite used to her disapproval of my loose fitting jeans and T-shirts. Working with kids, I found my favorite cartoon prints were just as possible with my tiny charges. I NEVER wear makeup or heels because I simply don't want to. My dresses always have leggings under them because it make me feel less vulnerable. I never wear shorts or above the knee skirts/dresses. That's a ME thing, not religious or cultural. I find my "uniform" of choice is ideal for working with kids. Wendy informed me more than once that it embarrassed her to be seen in public with me. She often insisted that I wear something of hers if we had to go anywhere.
My husband enjoys photography, particularly long exposure which is done at night. He has a lot of photography friends of both genders, but his best friend is a female. He also enjoys concerts and kayaking, often with an ex from high school. (He graduated in 1997). I trust my husband and have no problem with him spending time with his friends. Enter Wendy's whispers of accusations. She often "jokingly" accused him of cheating on me with these female friends. I don't enjoy concerts, crowds, or being out late; so I support his doing with people who do. At least I know he with someone if something happens. I have bad knees, which make getting in and out of a kayak difficult. Why should that stop him? Again, I told her that I trust him and that I don't appreciate her accusations joke or not. This annoyed her because she doesn't trust Cole.
I know these are major red flag issues. I know how toxic being subjected to these comments is. I also know how difficult it would be on their kids if I left too soon. I knew they needed someone who wasn't emotionally cruel. I stayed for them.
My husband and I spent 2 of our weekends helping them pack and move to house that ended up 15 minutes from us. We were thanked by words, but that was the extent of the gratitude. Wendy's mother looked after the kids while we helped them move. This was complained about because I was already paid to watch the kids during the week. Insert eye roll here!! Her mom felt my husband should be willing to help them move while I watched the kids on the weekend for no extra pay. Either way, we were doing them a HUGE favor to begin with.
A family that I had briefly Nannied for prior to working for Wendy asked if I could help out every other Saturday. The dad (Nice Guy) traveled a lot for work leaving the Mom (Angelface) home alone with the kids. She just needed a day to run errands, work out, and just have time to herself. Angelface is one of the kindest women on this planet. When I did Nanny for them (2 days a week), she was in tears when she had to let me go. They couldn't justify the outgoing money at the time. She referred me to several friends. I am legitimately friend with this family, and still babysit sporadically.
Through a random discussion, I told Wendy about working with Angelface on every other Saturday. She began to tell me what to charge, how many hours to work, and what days to leave open for her just in case. Insert headache inducing eyerolls!
One Friday, Wendy's cousin arrived for a weekend visit with her baby. Wendy told me that because it was a holiday weekend I would not be needed until Tuesday. I double checked via text, and she confirmed that she and Cole were taking the kids to the beach with her cousin. Monday morning I got a call from a passed off Wendy asking where I am. I reminded her that she had told me that they would not need me. I even took a screen shot of our text. She said that Cole had decided to work Monday anyway so she was alone with HER kids. This pissed me off, so I lied. I told her that I was out of town with my mom and wouldn't be home until 5 or 6 pm. She went on about how much of an inconvenience it was to her, and I should have checked before going out of town. For the second time, I sent her a screenshot of my text verifying that I wasn't needed Monday. She abruptly ended the call saying to just be sure to be on time Tuesday. I had NEVER been late, but opted to mention that as we hung up.
Over time we worked out a new arrangement where I brought now G3 to my house 2 days a week, and we stayed there 3 days a week. I helped with cleaning, errands, helped with the new baby (NB), etc. Mostly, I was Wendy's sounding board. She continued to accuse Cole of cheating, wasting money, and even beating her.
My husband and I offered to let her and the kids stay with us, but she declined. Wendy even told me that since she was so sure Cole was cheating, she was going to find herself a side boyfriend to cheat with. I tried to talk her out of it, to no avail. Sadly, she spoke openly about her new boyfriend in fron of G3. During one of her rants I learned that my pay came from him selling drugs. GULP!!
While cleaning out the couch one day, I came across a loaded gun kept in the couch console thing, along with baggies of pills, "dried plants", and white powder. This completely freaked me out. 2 small children and a soon to be crawling baby sat and played on and around that couch. I STRONGLY considered calling Child Pretective Services and the police. I quickly realized that if I did, they would know it was me. I regret it, but I feared their possible retaliation towards us.
Shortly after finding these thing Cole quit his job. For several months while I worked for them, they were both unemployed. Again, I thought it was an easy out. NOPE AGAIN! For another 3 months, they insisted that they couldn't take care of the house and kids without my help. Very often, I arrived to find now B6 fending for himself for breakfast and getting ready for school. He was told to wake up and unlock the door for me, but they went back to sleep. I was expected to keep the baby from crying, and to keep G3 quiet and entertained until they came downstairs. I often chose to simply take both to my house so we could play naturally. We had a crib, so this wasn't a problem for NB. G3 would just nap on the couch or my bed. When out of school B6 preferred this too. This really should have told Wendy and Cole something about their kids, but of course not.
FINALLY, I was informed after about a year of working for them, they could no longer justify paying me. At this point, I had often considered quitting anyway. I mainly stayed because my heart broke for the kids. However, based on her gossipy and judgmental nature ... not to mention my little 3 day weekend fail; I was concerned about what kind of reference Wendy would provide if I chose to quit.
So in 2019, I found myself happily unemployed. The timing here worked out beautifully because Angelface knew neighbors due to have their first baby in 2020. I ended up working for this lovely family until August of 2023. The mom (Joy) and the Dad (Mr. Cool) were such a relief to my entire mental and physical health. We became friends as well, and over time I told them about Wendy. Between Joy, Angelface, Mr. Cool, Nice Guy, my husband, and family I began to realize just hoe toxic Wendy really was to my mental health. My husband never liked her but understood my feelings towards the kids.
For almost a year Wendy would randomly call or FaceTime me .... more often than not while drunk. She would rave about how much she and the kids missed me. We would get together for a meal, and she had me over for a couple birthday parties for the kids. I found myself almost always being the only sober adult watching the kids as the adults partied. Wendy often went back to her gossiping, trash talking, and "jokes" about my husband spending time with women. She would offer underhanded compliments. "It's so nice to see you wearing a dress instead of those tacky T-shirts." You get the drift. She even INFORMED me that since her neighbor was pregnant I could quit my job with Joy and Mr. Cool. She had told her neighbor that I would work for her now, and since they were next door, I would watch her own kids too. I shut that down saying that I was quite happy working with Joy and Mr. Cool. I even lied about what they paid thinking it would detur her further. NOPE yet again. She said that I should quit anyway so her life would be easier with me around. Once more, I told her that wasn't going to happen.
AT LONG LAST, I am coming to the end of my tortuous endurment with Wendy.
A week later, she called and asked if I had quit yet. I said that I had no intention of leaving an "$800" a week job. (Not even close to that with my 3 day a week job, but she didn't need to know the truth.) She told me to let her know when I quit, then changed the subject towards gossiping about that first family and their problems. I told her that I don't feel comfortable gossiping about people who can't speak for themselves. That pissed her off, so she turned it on me again. She said of course I don't want to talk about them since my husband was cheating on me with 2 different women. I angrily corrected her. She has no reason to think my husband is cheating, and I trust him and our friends. Just because she thinks her boyfriend cheats, and she cheats, that doesn't mean everybody does. She then said we could talk when I calmed down and after I quit my job.
After hanging up, I proceeded to block Wendy on everything! Facebook, phone calls, texting, face timing, Instagram, and even Snapchat (which I hadn't used in over a year). I also blocked her mom, and any body that had been friendly simply because Wendy knew them and wanted me to have their information too. I gave her no warning at all. I was beyond passed off, and refused to be talked out of my very gratifying decision.
I told my husband, family, and friends that was now free of Wendy. Not a single person tried to tell me to make ammends. The only guilt that I feel is towards those poor kids. For once though, I put myself first. Joy and Angelface were both extremely supportive when I told them that I had Ghosted Wendy. Both even mentioned how proud they were of me for FINALLY truly stand-up for myself. They were NOT fans of Wendy!!!
I never ended up quitting my job with Joy and Mr. Cool inorder to babysit Wendy's neighbor. I also continued to babysit for Angelface and Nice Guy.
About 7 or 8 months ago, I ran into Wendy at a playground between our two homes. She was with now G5 and B2. I had Joy and Mr. Cool's daughter with me. I was polite, almost obscenely so. I was friendly towards the kids, who were stand off-ish. I offered to let Little Miss play with them, but they weren't interested. Little Miss wanted to do her own thing, so off we went to play. We left after only 15 minutes because Little Miss said "that lady" is scaring her.
That night, my husband got a Facebook message from Wendy. She described my cruelty towards her kids by ignoring them. She said that it was so hateful that I blocked her on everything after all she had done for us. This message went on and on. My husband left it unread for months before my morbid curiosity caused me to open the silly thing. We never responded, but instead he finally bl9cked her too.
Ok, if you read that bloody novel of a post, you are a ROCK STAR!! I don't have any regrets towards my eventual choice, except towards the kids. It breaks my heart knowing what kind of parents they are enduring. I often regret not calling CPS, but there isn't a shadow of doubt that would have retaliated .... most likely violently.
I did eventually get back in contact with that very first Nanny family. They had indeed broken up, but both are happier and healthier now. I warned them that Wendy enjoyed gossiping and spreading rumors about them. Neither were surprised, and both had broken contact with Wendy long ago. They supported my choice to break ties with her as well. Shocking, right!?!
I no longer work full time for Joy and Mr. Cool, as they wanted Little Miss to get used to being around more kids before starting school. I do still sporadically babysit for them and Angelface and Nice Guy though. The two couples have referred me to several other families in the neighborhood, so I stay pretty busy with much more sane individuals.
Maybe I was a jerk, and petty. I'm cool with being thought of that way towards Wendy. At least now, I have much kinder people in my life.
EDITED/UPDATE: It has come to my attention that some may feel unfulfilled on the petty revenge side. For this former doormat, removing myself as her very cheap childcare was my revenge. I realize that many may not feel it was enough, but at the time, it was a MAJOR achievement for me. I had worked 8 to 10 hours a day for 5 days a week to receive $300.
When "invited" to parties, I ended up providing free childcare while the other adults got drunk. I don't like the taste of alcohol or the feeling of being buzzed or drunk, so I don't partake. I feared what would happen to the ignored kids, so I found myself watching them.
I never had a lot of friends, so for a long time, I truly thought Wendy was my friend. It took conversations with my husband, my mom, Angelface, Joy, and others for me to see the reality of my situation.
Some may say this post is in fact gossiping about her. To a point, yes I will agree. I did change everybody's names though.
Ultimately, I have always questioned whether or not I was fair or did the right thing by Ghosting and blocking Wendy. I often second guess my choice; especially when thinking about those kids.
I have tried to be more alert about the people around me since this experience. I do still find myself being too nice and accepting of some ways in which I am treated. I have tried to build more boundaries though.

I may be the A-H and a bit Petty, but at least I got away from a toxic "friend".
Fair Warning, this is going to be a LONG post, but I will try to dilute it as much as possible.
About 12 years ago I left the world of retail (of which I have MANY stories) to begin a career in childcare. Some people prefer different titles, Nanny, Babysitter, Parents' Helper, Childcare Provider, etc. To be honest each of those titles are suitable in different situations.
The first family that I Nannied for went on for about 4 years, and then on again off again for another year. Through this family, I met "Wendy" and her family. Wendy went out of her way to be friendly with me, and would often ask me to babysit her kids (B5 and G1).
At one point, I had moved on to working with another family for a few months. Sadly, that ended due to the parents getting a divorce, and they moved further away.
Wendy found out that I was unemployed and asked that I Nanny for her kids. She was also pregnant with her 3rd at the time. I agreed at a slightly discounted rate because we were "friends". I realized too late that that was a HUGE mistake on my part.
Wendy's live in boyfriend "Cole" also had 3 kids from a previous relationship. B15, G8, and G6 lived with their mother. Yes, am aware of the closeness in age of Wendy and Cole' B5 and his G6. I chose to keep my mouth shut.
Now prepare yourselves for the Rollercoaster of emotions I dealt with with this family.
Initially, both Wendy and Cole were employed. I would come over 5 days a week for 8 to 10 hour days, depending upon whether Wendy got home on time. Here is where my discounted rate bit me in the butt.... $300 a week was still complained about. Wendy asked that I not leave Cole alone with their kids because he basically ignored them and refused to change diapers. I felt pretty icky about that, but agreed. Now I lived 45 minutes away without traffic. I would often leave my house early in anticipation of possible traffic. If I arrived early, I wasn't allowed in until she our alloted time of 7am. I didn't have a key, and would often be left waiting on the porch an extra 15 minutes past our time. If I knew I was too early, I parked around the corner and ate breakfast. Wendy and Cole both got very irritated if I wasn't their door precisely at 7 am. It was a headache that I chose to avoid.
Over the first month, I realized that G2 was emotionally abused by Wendy. She constantly said to or in front of the child how much she hated dealing with the wild child. How she wished G2 was more well behaved like B5. She even wrote unkind things on Facebook, asking someone to take her on the weekend while I was off.
This took a toll on poor G2, obviously. She would get violent with me first thing in the mornings : Hitting, kicking, biting, pulling my hair, throwing things at me, or what ever popped into her mind. Eventually, once Wendy left for work G2 would calm down and become an absolute delight.
When B5 started school, Wendy took a new job that allowed her to work from home at times. Those were not fun days! I asked if I could bring G2 to my house where I have an outdoor play area, a playroom, plenty of kid movies, crafts, books, music, and local playgrounds. At first the car rides were torture with G2 screaming bloody murder for at least half of the 45 minute drive. When she got used to the new routine, those drives became pleasant. Her violent tendencies disappeared when we were spending the days at my home. The drawback was that I also had to drive her home in time to get B5 off the bus.
During school breaks, I also had B5, and if they were visiting G8 and G6. B15 stayed at Wendy's house and just did his own thing. If you thought G2 was torture in toddler form, these two girls would have made Nanny McPhee grow a few more moles, a hunch back, and closed feet.
B5 would get a little bored, being that he was the only boy that was understandable. I purchased an array of boy friendlier toys to entertain him. I already had a lot of girl friendly toys either purchased or gifted from the first family that I had worked with. Of course I had plenty of gender neutral items too.
Wendy and Cole didn't give 2 sh*ts and a shave if the kids watched TV all day, went out to a playground or museum, or were driven 2 hours away, as long as I got them home on time. I easily spent an entire paycheck on activities, gas, food (which they didn't pack), and toys over 2 weeks watching all 4 kids. By the by, when asked for additional money when I did have all 4, Wendy not so politely informed me that the kids are entertain each other, so my job should be easier with all 4.
My husband and I discussed a few times whether I should look for something else. Inevitably the people pleaser in me actually felt guilty even considering it. Yup, I was apparently a glutton for punishment. Gratefully, my income was just extra, for an nice meal out occasionally, gifts for birthdays and holiday, extra hobbies, and basic groceries.
Just before Wendy gave birth to their new baby, she became unemployed. Logically, one would think this was my easy out. NOPE!! I became more of a Mother's Helper / Nanny. At this point Wendy and Cole were beginning to look for a larger house to rent. I did more walk through than I can count. She even asked me to tour a couple without her, and to bring G2 and B5 so she could get her nails done and take a nap. (Seriously, I toured houses on her list without her!)
As we spent more and more time together, I began to learn FAR FAR more about her bedroom life than I could ever desire. G2 and I spent much less time in the peace of my home, and way too much in Wendy's company. G2's behavior began to deteriorate slowly, causing Wendy to lose her temper with her far too easily. This completely broke my heart. I TRIED to redirect them both, and expressed my concern to Wendy. Of course, she then turned her anger towards me.
Wendy would openly discuss her theories about Cole in front of her kids. She claimed that he was cheating on her with his ex because he would shower immediately after seeing her to pick up or drop off the kids. He often made those drives directly after work though. Maybe he was cheating, maybe not. I honestly don't know.
Wendy also enjoyed gossiping about absolutely anybody. The parents of the first family that worked with were having marital issues. This was a favorite topic of hers. Wendy told me about every unkind word her mother uttered in her direction. The apple obviously didn't fall far from the tree here. I was told lots of personal information about people I didn't know. The gossip made me very uncomfortable. I told her that I would prefer we not discuss the lives of people who weren't around to speak on their own behalf. This fell on deaf ears.
I became quite used to her disapproval of my loose fitting jeans and T-shirts. Working with kids, I found my favorite cartoon prints were just as possible with my tiny charges. I NEVER wear makeup or heels because I simply don't want to. My dresses always have leggings under them because it make me feel less vulnerable. I never wear shorts or above the knee skirts/dresses. That's a ME thing, not religious or cultural. I find my "uniform" of choice is ideal for working with kids. Wendy informed me more than once that it embarrassed her to be seen in public with me. She often insisted that I wear something of hers if we had to go anywhere.
My husband enjoys photography, particularly long exposure which is done at night. He has a lot of photography friends of both genders, but his best friend is a female. He also enjoys concerts and kayaking, often with an ex from high school. (He graduated in 1997). I trust my husband and have no problem with him spending time with his friends. Enter Wendy's whispers of accusations. She often "jokingly" accused him of cheating on me with these female friends. I don't enjoy concerts, crowds, or being out late; so I support his doing with people who do. At least I know he with someone if something happens. I have bad knees, which make getting in and out of a kayak difficult. Why should that stop him? Again, I told her that I trust him and that I don't appreciate her accusations joke or not. This annoyed her because she doesn't trust Cole.
I know these are major red flag issues. I know how toxic being subjected to these comments is. I also know how difficult it would be on their kids if I left too soon. I knew they needed someone who wasn't emotionally cruel. I stayed for them.
My husband and I spent 2 of our weekends helping them pack and move to house that ended up 15 minutes from us. We were thanked by words, but that was the extent of the gratitude. Wendy's mother looked after the kids while we helped them move. This was complained about because I was already paid to watch the kids during the week. Insert eye roll here!! Her mom felt my husband should be willing to help them move while I watched the kids on the weekend for no extra pay. Either way, we were doing them a HUGE favor to begin with.
A family that I had briefly Nannied for prior to working for Wendy asked if I could help out every other Saturday. The dad (Nice Guy) traveled a lot for work leaving the Mom (Angelface) home alone with the kids. She just needed a day to run errands, work out, and just have time to herself. Angelface is one of the kindest women on this planet. When I did Nanny for them (2 days a week), she was in tears when she had to let me go. They couldn't justify the outgoing money at the time. She referred me to several friends. I am legitimately friend with this family, and still babysit sporadically.
Through a random discussion, I told Wendy about working with Angelface on every other Saturday. She began to tell me what to charge, how many hours to work, and what days to leave open for her just in case. Insert headache inducing eyerolls!
One Friday, Wendy's cousin arrived for a weekend visit with her baby. Wendy told me that because it was a holiday weekend I would not be needed until Tuesday. I double checked via text, and she confirmed that she and Cole were taking the kids to the beach with her cousin. Monday morning I got a call from a passed off Wendy asking where I am. I reminded her that she had told me that they would not need me. I even took a screen shot of our text. She said that Cole had decided to work Monday anyway so she was alone with HER kids. This pissed me off, so I lied. I told her that I was out of town with my mom and wouldn't be home until 5 or 6 pm. She went on about how much of an inconvenience it was to her, and I should have checked before going out of town. For the second time, I sent her a screenshot of my text verifying that I wasn't needed Monday. She abruptly ended the call saying to just be sure to be on time Tuesday. I had NEVER been late, but opted to mention that as we hung up.
Over time we worked out a new arrangement where I brought now G3 to my house 2 days a week, and we stayed there 3 days a week. I helped with cleaning, errands, helped with the new baby (NB), etc. Mostly, I was Wendy's sounding board. She continued to accuse Cole of cheating, wasting money, and even beating her.
My husband and I offered to let her and the kids stay with us, but she declined. Wendy even told me that since she was so sure Cole was cheating, she was going to find herself a side boyfriend to cheat with. I tried to talk her out of it, to no avail. Sadly, she spoke openly about her new boyfriend in fron of G3. During one of her rants I learned that my pay came from him selling drugs. GULP!!
While cleaning out the couch one day, I came across a loaded gun kept in the couch console thing, along with baggies of pills, "dried plants", and white powder. This completely freaked me out. 2 small children and a soon to be crawling baby sat and played on and around that couch. I STRONGLY considered calling Child Pretective Services and the police. I quickly realized that if I did, they would know it was me. I regret it, but I feared their possible retaliation towards us.
Shortly after finding these thing Cole quit his job. For several months while I worked for them, they were both unemployed. Again, I thought it was an easy out. NOPE AGAIN! For another 3 months, they insisted that they couldn't take care of the house and kids without my help. Very often, I arrived to find now B6 fending for himself for breakfast and getting ready for school. He was told to wake up and unlock the door for me, but they went back to sleep. I was expected to keep the baby from crying, and to keep G3 quiet and entertained until they came downstairs. I often chose to simply take both to my house so we could play naturally. We had a crib, so this wasn't a problem for NB. G3 would just nap on the couch or my bed. When out of school B6 preferred this too. This really should have told Wendy and Cole something about their kids, but of course not.
FINALLY, I was informed after about a year of working for them, they could no longer justify paying me. At this point, I had often considered quitting anyway. I mainly stayed because my heart broke for the kids. However, based on her gossipy and judgmental nature ... not to mention my little 3 day weekend fail; I was concerned about what kind of reference Wendy would provide if I chose to quit.
So in 2019, I found myself happily unemployed. The timing here worked out beautifully because Angelface knew neighbors due to have their first baby in 2020. I ended up working for this lovely family until August of 2023. The mom (Joy) and the Dad (Mr. Cool) were such a relief to my entire mental and physical health. We became friends as well, and over time I told them about Wendy. Between Joy, Angelface, Mr. Cool, Nice Guy, my husband, and family I began to realize just hoe toxic Wendy really was to my mental health. My husband never liked her but understood my feelings towards the kids.
For almost a year Wendy would randomly call or FaceTime me .... more often than not while drunk. She would rave about how much she and the kids missed me. We would get together for a meal, and she had me over for a couple birthday parties for the kids. I found myself almost always being the only sober adult watching the kids as the adults partied. Wendy often went back to her gossiping, trash talking, and "jokes" about my husband spending time with women. She would offer underhanded compliments. "It's so nice to see you wearing a dress instead of those tacky T-shirts." You get the drift. She even INFORMED me that since her neighbor was pregnant I could quit my job with Joy and Mr. Cool. She had told her neighbor that I would work for her now, and since they were next door, I would watch her own kids too. I shut that down saying that I was quite happy working with Joy and Mr. Cool. I even lied about what they paid thinking it would detur her further. NOPE yet again. She said that I should quit anyway so her life would be easier with me around. Once more, I told her that wasn't going to happen.
AT LONG LAST, I am coming to the end of my tortuous endurment with Wendy.
A week later, she called and asked if I had quit yet. I said that I had no intention of leaving an "$800" a week job. (Not even close to that with my 3 day a week job, but she didn't need to know the truth.) She told me to let her know when I quit, then changed the subject towards gossiping about that first family and their problems. I told her that I don't feel comfortable gossiping about people who can't speak for themselves. That pissed her off, so she turned it on me again. She said of course I don't want to talk about them since my husband was cheating on me with 2 different women. I angrily corrected her. She has no reason to think my husband is cheating, and I trust him and our friends. Just because she thinks her boyfriend cheats, and she cheats, that doesn't mean everybody does. She then said we could talk when I calmed down and after I quit my job.
After hanging up, I proceeded to block Wendy on everything! Facebook, phone calls, texting, face timing, Instagram, and even Snapchat (which I hadn't used in over a year). I also blocked her mom, and any body that had been friendly simply because Wendy knew them and wanted me to have their information too. I gave her no warning at all. I was beyond passed off, and refused to be talked out of my very gratifying decision.
I told my husband, family, and friends that was now free of Wendy. Not a single person tried to tell me to make ammends. The only guilt that I feel is towards those poor kids. For once though, I put myself first. Joy and Angelface were both extremely supportive when I told them that I had Ghosted Wendy. Both even mentioned how proud they were of me for FINALLY truly stand-up for myself. They were NOT fans of Wendy!!!
I never ended up quitting my job with Joy and Mr. Cool inorder to babysit Wendy's neighbor. I also continued to babysit for Angelface and Nice Guy.
About 7 or 8 months ago, I ran into Wendy at a playground between our two homes. She was with now G5 and B2. I had Joy and Mr. Cool's daughter with me. I was polite, almost obscenely so. I was friendly towards the kids, who were stand off-ish. I offered to let Little Miss play with them, but they weren't interested. Little Miss wanted to do her own thing, so off we went to play. We left after only 15 minutes because Little Miss said "that lady" is scaring her.
That night, my husband got a Facebook message from Wendy. She described my cruelty towards her kids by ignoring them. She said that it was so hateful that I blocked her on everything after all she had done for us. This message went on and on. My husband left it unread for months before my morbid curiosity caused me to open the silly thing. We never responded, but instead he finally bl9cked her too.
Ok, if you read that bloody novel of a post, you are a ROCK STAR!! I don't have any regrets towards my eventual choice, except towards the kids. It breaks my heart knowing what kind of parents they are enduring. I often regret not calling CPS, but there isn't a shadow of doubt that would have retaliated .... most likely violently.
I did eventually get back in contact with that very first Nanny family. They had indeed broken up, but both are happier and healthier now. I warned them that Wendy enjoyed gossiping and spreading rumors about them. Neither were surprised, and both had broken contact with Wendy long ago. They supported my choice to break ties with her as well. Shocking, right!?!
I no longer work full time for Joy and Mr. Cool, as they wanted Little Miss to get used to being around more kids before starting school. I do still sporadically babysit for them and Angelface and Nice Guy though. The two couples have referred me to several other families in the neighborhood, so I stay pretty busy with much more sane individuals.
Maybe I was an A-Hole, and petty. I'm cool with being thought of that way towards Wendy. At least now, I have much kinder people in my life.
EDITED/UPDATE: It has come to my attention that some may feel unfulfilled on the petty revenge side. For this former doormat, removing myself as her very cheap childcare was my revenge. I realize that many may not feel it was enough, but at the time, it was a MAJOR achievement for me. I had worked 8 to 10 hours a day for 5 days a week to receive $300.
When "invited" to parties, I ended up providing free childcare while the other adults got drunk. I don't like the taste of alcohol or the feeling of being buzzed or drunk, so I don't partake. I feared what would happen to the ignored kids, so I found myself watching them.
I never had a lot of friends, so for a long time, I truly thought Wendy was my friend. It took conversations with my husband, my mom, Angelface, Joy, and others for me to see the reality of my situation.
Some may say this post is in fact gossiping about her. To a point, yes I will agree. I did change everybody's names though.
Ultimately, I have always questioned whether or not I was fair or did the right thing by Ghosting and blocking Wendy. I often second guess my choice; especially when thinking about those kids.
I have tried to be more alert about the people around me since this experience. I do still find myself being too nice and accepting of some ways in which I am treated. I have tried to build more boundaries though.

Anyone watching this trial?

This is loosely related, but the Daybell case is turning out to be a great source for a preview of what’s to come.

• Ms. Beaty is one of the prosecutors
• ISP Lab supervisor testimony
• FBI CAST & CSLI testimony from the supervisor in Idaho

I think there’s a decent chance the same ISP Lab Supervisor and/or FBI CAST Supervisor will be the ones to testify on this case, bc their departments are for state of Idaho & supervisors typically closely oversee processes for high-profile cases & are more equipped to testify.

• . - * . - * . - * . - * . - * . - * . - * . - * . - *

FBI CAST / CSLI Supervisor - Day 22

(just ended about 45 mins ago at the time I’m posting this)

• He’s disclosed a lot but most of the info is with more abundant data to work off of.
• Google location history is the main source of the precise locations we saw pertaining to Alex Cox’s movements. > — I wonder if that means Alex Cox had a Droid (anyone know?), or if we might see something like this data come out with this case. > — being logged into Gmail gives them very precise location points, you could see Alex Cox move around Walmart based on phone location
• {For anyone interested in the Delphi case, the 100m range is explained}.
• I find it very interesting how willingly and easily the CAST team at FBI cooperated with this Daybell case, in contrast with subpoenas and the Touhey process being employed in the Kohberger case
• There are a lot of overlapping coverage zones in Idaho > (but this case is based on the opposite corner of the state, so it didn’t show the maps they use near where this investigation is based)
• he goes over AT&T drive test data
• a lot of the data presented is specific to AT&T {insights useful for Kohberger, Delphi cases} > — a lot from Verizon too.
• Random fact learned: Verizon doesn’t store location details in the data & analytics log on phones when texts are sent and received like other carriers do

Note: he’s not shown on screen & is likely using an alias.
Hot take: my guess on why they don’t have the cooperation from the FBI CAST / CSLI team on Kohberger case seems likely to be that they misrepresented or cherry-picked info, which the FBI CAST team isn’t willing to limit their statements to in testimony, & are going back & forth about providing a report limited to that, rather than FBI just stonewalling their request for the data.

^{That’s ^ my wild guess, not evidenced directly, just a personal opinion on what I think is likely}

• . - * . - * . - * . - * . - * . - * . - * . - * . - *

ISP Lab Supervisor Ms. Dace - Day 20

• Her testimony did not help the prosecution at all IMO, but they did provide some interesting insights into their processes
• They didn’t find a single hint of Chad’s DNA on anything they tested > — despite 18 of the items being tools he owned & presumably has used…. > — They assumed ownership and that his DNA would be present (apparently neglecting to consider that someone else’s DNA being present could be exculpatory for the defendant) > huge risk from this testimony: conspiracy to commit murder + 1st degree murder —> just conspiracy}
• There was essentially no unexpected or incriminating DNA anywhere (Lori’s was mixed with Tylee’s in some places but she’s already convicted so that rly makes no dif)
• She gave some insights that help to understand the super high #s given in this case. — They assume mixture but test for a unique profile among it. — {they expected DNA from soil, decomposition fluids from both victims, and ashes <-interesting}
• They got reference samples from all the main players and, using using atypical methodology, did not test for any outside contributor’s identities > — “Atypical” bc thats how they did it “for this case,” she clarified (unique instructions or circumstances apparently)
• For all cases, they only test exactly the items & places on the items that police or prosecutors instruct them to, or things they’re instructed to test by court orders
• in this case, she saw potential blood on 10 items which they only determined was consistent with blood, but didn’t test whose it was on any of them.
• Their policy is not to run consumptive testing without approval. > — And apparently didn’t seek, or weren’t granted approval, despite nothing testing positive for the defendant’s DNA

I was pretty shocked at how much DNA they opted to preserve rather than consume. In this case, what could they possibly need to save it for that would be more important than THIS investigation & trial !!!? - no one wants to clone this dude & taxpayers prob aren’t hoping for a re-do - and especially given that they don’t have even one tiny HINT of Chad’s DNA on anything….!..?..!.? - Yikes - (no fault of Ms. Dace though; she just tests what she’s told to).

• they assume it was on tool handles since he owned them, but that also bases the choice not to confirm, on the assumption that no one else’s would be present…. we’ll see if the jury accepts that….

(For clarity: I think he obviously played a key role in the kid’s deaths & is guilty of at least conspiracy to commit murder, just now question the strength of the first degree murder charge, not his actual guilt)

• . - * . - * . - * . - * . - * . - * . - * . - * . - *

Ms. Beaty - special prosecutor from the Kohberger case is on this trial too.

• she’s more effective on the Daybell case IMO, watching has guven me a better impression of her
• it might be just bc she has better arguments to use to lay out a clear picture, or it might be that she has a dif role in the Kohberger case > — She seems to get stuck with a lot of long-shot requests, likely bc she has a higher rank
• She seems confident, calm, & precise
  Side-note: Prosecutor Wood’s performance is a lot more mild than what I expected. Pryor is coming off as more thorough and inquisitive, but both of them come off as very kind and reasonable - very courteous & cooperative with each other, too; they have a lot of sidebars, like, “Your honor, may I have a brief moment to discuss with Mr. Wood?”, and come to quick, joint-agreements or suggestions. Pryor’s been given an extremely difficult task to undertake single-handedly - facing what seems impossible. He’s missed a few key opportunities to question some things, but I think he’s matching the performance of the prosecutors thus far, from the days I watched.
  
• Beaty seems most harsh / stern from the bunch, but more likable than she’s come off in the Kohberger case IMO
  
• . - * . - * . - * . - * . - * . - * . - * . - * . - *
  

Anyone else watching this one?
— If not, honestly, I do not recommend. This trial is dominated by soft-spoken, slow-speakers lol.
Any other take-aways?
Or questions? (I watched more than most ppl prob have the patience for - it’s kind of like a long version of those old Clear Eyes commercials, but with lots of dead silence in between statements - so I’d be happy to answer if I can)

• anyone know whether Alex Cox had a Droid?

About us:
Happily married, early 30s couple who have been madly in love since being high school sweethearts. We were virgins when we started dating and stayed monogamous till our late 20s. Since then we have dipped our toes into the lifestyle as we have swapped with couples of our age and older. We have also played with younger select singles and we both enjoy watching each other play with thirds/lovers.
Mrs: She is 135 lbs, heteroflexible vixen with a divine smile and a gorgeous, luscious body that is built to fuck. She is a submissive in all MF dynamics. She enjoys being dominated by her husband, but with other men (part of couples or single men) she primarily seeks a sensual connection before submission. She enjoys FF, MFF and MFFM dynamics. She is also a highly accomplished businesswoman and commands a leadership role. Being a submissive allows her to unwind and relax as she is being "used and taken care" of!
Mr: He is 160 lbs, handsome, straight with a highly intellectual, energetic and dominant persona. He is fit, passionate and enjoys being in control of situations in bedrooms and outside. As a stag, he loves to share Mrs from the position of power. In a MF dynamic, he can be kind or assertive and is capable of giving pleasure. With his submissive lovers, he prefers using his hands to cherish the feminine beauty instead of toys. He has experience being rough/dominant while fully respecting boundaries.
What are we seeking?
Overall: Mutual respect, honesty, discretion is a must for having a positive experience. We like playing with attractive, fit and respectful people.
Couples [FF/MFFM]: Usually we play with friendly, open-minded couples from 20s/30s and if experienced open to 40s. With inexperienced couples, we prefer same room/no swap or FF, soft swap dynamics. We have past experience with hard swap, but the bar for attraction/chemistry is higher and we like everyone involved to have fun.
Single men: She seeks selective handsome, hung, dominant lovers in their 20s and early 30s who can first seduce her with charm and intelligence. She is shy in real life but she enjoys being adventurous as she communicates her desires and fantasies. Past experience with couples or married women is definitely preferred.
We find cuckolding/humiliation disgusting and not interested in typical hotwife/bull dynamics. Please spare us from unsolicited hotwife requests.

I'm pretty sure I'm going to be dead in the next 24 hours.
Whether that's the Costella family, or whatever this is, I'm not sure.
The police are taking forever, and part of me knows they're either refusing to believe me, or RC got them too.
I'm holed up on our school bus, so I've got nothing better to do.
I want to tell you about my team.
We met in our sophomore year.
Strangers standing outside the club room.
Levi was the freckled brunette who wouldn't stop talking about Game of Thrones.
Sunny, a pretty redhead, told him to shut up.
Tom, a sandy blonde, nodding his head to music corked in his ears.
I just wanted to be part of a club, and get away from my overbearing mother.
I won't say it was a perfect start. Our school was lacking in funding, so anyone could join, which made us more of a Quiz Club. I had some serious anxiety, so I stayed on the sidelines for a while, watching, rather than taking part.
It's not like we actually talked to each other initially. The first few weeks, we played Jeopardy, and attempted to find more members to cement us as an official Academic Decathlon club.
Unfortunately, though, it was just the four of us.
Which made it extremely hard for us to be taken seriously.
According to Google, Academic Decathlon teams were made up of nine members, placed by their GPA.
Our principal laughed at us, but he did let us become official.
Which was out of pity, I assumed.
The club was assembled, and we started meeting up after school.
Sort of.
Sunny barely showed up, and Levi didn't take anything seriously, preferring to spend the time telling us about his weird family turf-war.
Our principal dumped us in a tiny classroom with a resident rat living under the floorboards.
There was barely enough room to move, and the four of us crammed together for three hours was less than appealing.
Still, though, I wanted to be part of a club.
I had grown up with parents who were obsessed with board games, so I was pretty good at general knowledge questions. Our club room was too small for anything else but three desks (Sunny and I shared one) and a whiteboard we had to shove through the door.
But, again, we didn't start as an Academic club.
It was more akin to Story Time Club.
Arriving late on my third day, armed with quiz cards from home, I found Tom and Sunny completely mesmerised by Levi’s storytelling skills, drowned in shadow.
They didn't even turn the lights on.
I strictly remember squeezing next to Sunny, and hearing the words, “But there was so much blood all over the floor, and my Mom told me to go upstairs and hide under the bed…”
Sitting in front of them was Levi, perched on a desk, his legs swinging, a whiteboard marker between his teeth.
Sometimes he'd get up, and illustrate parts of his story.
It sucked that his drawings were all stick people.
I won't go into full details of his life, but Levi grew up as part of a family who had… interesting methods of making a living. I had seen the guy’s father multiple times when we hung out at his place, and, yeah, my friend’s family definitely had Soprano vibes.
Levi’s Draw My Life was nothing to do with the club, but it did bring us closer.
Even if, at that point, I was considering leaving.
But it's not like it was easy to walk away from these guys. It's like finding your soulmates. Levi wasn't the only one with an interesting life. Sunny Lang was an ex kpop trainee, who was kicked out for being too fat, which led her to develop a severe eating disorder, and a hatred for her own body.
Sunny explained her family were originally from Boston, her mother growing up in Korea.
She signed up for an idol agency focusing on creating a new girl group, and had gotten all the way to the final stages, before being kicked for her weight. Sunny told us her story with a smile, though there was a hollowness in her eyes I couldn't ignore. The other girls were judgemental bullies, and the idol diet and brutal regime almost killed her.
Sunny lived in a tiny apartment with 9 girls, who would tear each other apart for a chance to debut. Sunny said all the other girls debuted, and when we (not so patiently) asked for names, she shrugged, admitting she signed an NDA that prevented her spilling the beans.
What she did say, was the K-pop idol is a product, not a person– and are made and moulded into a product.
She had zero interest in throwing her humanity away to become a manufactured doll.
So, one of us was the son of an underground family, and the other was an ex idol.
Tom was an aspiring horror writer with a famous older step-brother.
His story times were usually, That one time I went to the Met Gala.
When it was my turn to reveal my story, I told them the only interesting thing about me.
I could smell when something bad was going to happen.
They laughed, but I was being serious.
When I was a kid, I smelled my mother’s brain tumor.
I remember it smelled like curdled milk.
I asked Mom why her head smelled of mouldy milk, and Mom laughed and said it was her shampoo.
It was actually a grade two tumor growing inside her brain.
Thankfully, the tumour was found quickly and removed.
Growing older, I became sensitive to smell. The little girl choking on the bus smelled of singed wood, and the old man crossing the road stunk of gasoline.
In the fourth grade, my classmate Alex Castor smelled of lemons all morning.
I sat behind him, choking on the stink all the way through class.
Ever since I met him, Alex had always smelled… off.
It was a distinct smell I could never understand, and as the days and months and years went by, that smell morphed into a subtle orangey musk that was so strong I had to cover my mouth and nose. Then, he smelled like lemons.
During Recess, I watched Alex fall off of the jungle gym, straight onto his head.
Alex Castor was dead before the paramedics arrived, my panicked teacher attempting CPR when his brains were leaking out of his ears.
The school claimed it was an accident, but Alex would have been fine if the jungle gym wasn't built on solid concrete.
I told my team members this, and Levi was sceptical.
“You can smell bad things?” He said, his lips curved around his milkshake straw. In the early days, we hung out in the local bar. It's not like we were allowed inside, but Levi could get us in anywhere.
I was squeezed between Tom and Sunny, while Levi took the seat opposite us. I couldn't help noticing our waitress was insisting on free milkshake refills, her frantic eyes glued to Levi.
I had zero idea why. Levi Costella was about as intimidating as a fruit fly.
Wearing a white shirt with a popped collar, a leather jacket thrown over the top, Levi was giving rebellious Harvard student, rather than son of a crime family.
Leaning forward, he raised a brow, clearly not believing me.
“So, you're like a stink psychic?”
I shrugged, sipping my own shake.
“Sure.”
I wasn't planning on telling him the club room smelled off on our first day.
Once we actually started the club, Levi surprised us as the smartest member, and getting to know him further, I came to the realization his family were infamous in our town.
However, his parents hid it well. Lucy and Michael Costella were the owners of a popular ramen store in our town, hiding under the facade of two successful business owners. The Costella’s were an attractive family.
Lucy was a sophisticated brunette with a lipstick smile, Michael, a handsome fluffy haired man who looked like he modelled glasses.
The two were fiercely protective over their youngest son, not so casually reminding us behind grinning smiles, that if anything happened to Levi, we would automatically be involved in the family.
I mean, they did laugh and say, “We’re joking! Look at your little faces!” when Sunny went deathly pale. But there was definitely truth behind their words.
Being Levi’s friend was… challenging at first.
Tom and I were in his room studying for finals, and an alarm went off, flooding Levi’s room in red light.
I had zero idea where it was coming from, but it locked all the doors and windows, forcing the Costella residence into temporary lockdown. Levi didn't seem fazed, casually mentioning his parents were taking care of it.
He had a whiteboard set up in his room, and was standing in front of it, cramming all of our textbook notes into one easily digestible drawing.
Levi wasn't just smart.
He was Ivy League smart, so we had struck gold with him.
His family were questionable, and yes, sometimes I did fear for my life, but as the more time we spent at his house, the Costella household became a second home. We got used to the alarms.
I just brought along ear plugs.
I wish I was writing this post about Levi’s family, and sure, they are a factor in what is going on right now, but I want to preface this by saying the events below involve the 2024 scholastic decathlon final in our town with the school’s listed:
Starbrook High School.
Ratcliffe High School.
Please note, the incident that took place last night was immediately covered up, and all phone footage was destroyed. Our town is mostly out of the way, and does not show up on Google searches.
We also have our own version of the academic decathlon, which is a more town-level competition, due to lacking funds. The four of us were desperate to start competing with our schools.
So, we started taking things a little more seriously.
We got a coach.
Mr Hanes, who was hesitant at first.
In his words, “You will hate me as your coach.”
He started by recruiting more members, announcing, “If you want to be taken seriously as an actual club, then I'll be taking the reins from now on.”
He did, and with our teachers guidance (and sometimes brutal honesty), we reached a level where we could start competing with other school’s in town. Now, none of us knew this, but Mr Hanes was obsessed with winning.
So, club meetings were twisted into two hour study sessions with no talking, followed by Mr Hanes Jeaprody, which was Jeaprody, without the actual fun.
We were quizzed multiple times, answer cards and practise questions quite literally thrown directly in our faces.
I hate to admit this (I really hate to admit this) but Mr Hanes’s tactics worked. Sure, we had been mildly brainwashed by our slightly unhinged coach, but with Levi Costella, we destroyed our competitors. Like I said, our town held their own version of the academic scholastic decathlon, but it was pretty much the same, with some changes.
Ten subjects. Language and Literature, Math, Social Science, Economics, Art, Music, Interview, Speech, and Essay.
Unlike the official Decathlon, ours was more like a game show, with the ability to be knocked out if a team member answers a question wrong. Whoever answers the most questions correctly wins. Team meet ups were either tests, study sessions, or quizzing each other.
Which leads me to last night.
The finals were held in the reigning champions, Ratcliffe High School’s, auditorium.
And we were about to win our town’s Scholastic Decathlon 2024 Championships.
Well…I was knocked out in the music section. Standing next to my coach who I was sure was going to asphyxiate from excitement, I could smell the sudden potent stink of lemon. I tried to ignore it at first, but the more questions my team were answering correctly, the smell got worse, suffocating my senses.
This wasn't just lemon. The stink was like a burning, singing smell trickling into my nose and the back of my throat.
It was stronger than what Alex smelled like.
This was suffocating, drowning my thoughts.
“Are you okay, Cassandra?”
Mr Hanes nudged me when a Ratcliffe girl was struggling to answer a question, only for Sunny to jump in with the answer. “You look quite pale.”
I nodded, forcing a smile.
My gaze was on the Ratcliffe coach, a scary looking blonde woman, whispering in one of her student’s ears.
The Ratcliffe kid freaked me out. He was way too tall, dark blonde hair, and bulging eyes I swear were not blinking.
His gaze was glued to Levi, who wore a smug grin.
There was a smaller girl next to the Ratcliffe kid, a Macbook balanced on her knee. Every so often, he leaned into her, the two of them in deep conversation.
“I'm just nervous.”
I jumped when Ratcliffe scored a point, their side erupting into cheers.
During the break, we had a mini team meeting.
Sunny rushed to the bathroom to freshen up, and I noticed a Ratcliffe girl with a bouncing ponytail following her.
Ignoring our coach’s speech, I joined the two girls in the corridor, that lemony scent hanging thick in the air.
I caught them in an awkward position.
The Ratcliffe girl had her fingers pinched between the material of Sunny’s dark blue shirt bearing our school’s name.
Sunny looked confused, her lips parted like she was going to yell.
Ponytail dropped her hand, suddenly, with a nervous laugh. “Oh! I'm so, so, sorry,” she gushed. “You had, like, the biggest spider crawling on your back.”
Sunny caught my eye, shooting me a reassuring smile.
“Thanks.” She made sure to keep her distance. “Uh, where's your bathroom?”
The Ratcliffe girl nodded down the hallway. “It's just down there. I'm going there too if you want me to show you?”
Sunny motioned for me to go back to the auditorium. “Uh, sure! That'd be great!”
I did try to follow them, only for Sunny to cough loudly.
I took the hint, reluctantly heading back into the auditorium.
My team was hyping each other up, Levi in the centre, sweating through his team shirt. He ran a trembling hand through his hair. “I can't do this,” He groaned. “Ratcliffe High is known to play dirty, man. They're unbeatable.”
“In what way do they play dirty?” I asked, joining them.
Levi gulped down water, shrugging.
“I dunno! They're already trying to distract me with the stink eye.” The boy narrowed his eyes at a grinning Ratcliffe kid who, after noticing our stares, jumped to his feet, waving at us.
“Hey guys!”
“That's Harry Cartwright, the son of the Cartwright family who tried to kill my parents in the third grade.” Levi mockingly waved back. “As you can see, their kid is a fucking sociopath.”
Huh. I wasn't expecting the smiley kid to be the mobster’s son.
Harry Cartwright was not what I expected.
Unlike his team members, he was the only one in casual clothing, a short sleeved white shirt and jeans, a pair of sunglasses perched on top of his head.
Tom went pale.
“Fuck.” He hissed. “He’s one of you? Then those bastards will have a reason to play dirty, right?”
Levi shrugged, averting his gaze. It was the first time I saw his eyes darken, like he was subtly telling the boy to back off.
“The Cartwright’s have been trying to buy our land for a while,” he muttered. “I wouldn't put it past them to use the Decathlon as a way to attack.”
“Attack?!” April, another member of our team, hissed. “Like, attack attack?”
Mr Hanes grabbed the boy, resting his hands on Levi’s shoulders. “Ignore them,” he said. “Hey. Look at me.”
Levi did, raising a brow.
“You're losing that spark in your eye, young man.”
“Spark?”
Our coach nodded. “Look at me, kid.”
Levi rolled his eyes. “I am looking at you, Mr Hanes.”
The man was shaking. I was guessing his whole career (or coaching career) was on the line.
“They know they're losing, Mr Costella.”
Hanes shook the boy, squeezing his shoulders. “You are being positive and Ratcliffe doesn't like that. They want you to be nervous. They want to make you second guess yourself and lose confidence. Don't let them get into your head.” he smiled, giving the boy a playful shove. “Kick their asses.”
“Exactly!”
I didn't realize Sunny was back from the bathroom.
The faint smell of lemons had followed her. I noticed a wet patch on her shirt collar, though she was quick to smile at me, admitting she'd spilled water down herself. Sunny wrapped her arms around Levi, squeezing him into a hug.
She hung on for a little too long, Tom dragging her away with a laugh. “Good luck, all right?” she backed away, ruffling his hair. “We’ve got this!”
When I hugged Levi good luck too, I had to resist covering my nose.
The smell of lemon was unbearable, just like fourth grade Alex.
But it wasn't as potent as earlier.
I vaguely remembered the smell starting to fade once Alex’s body was being carted away on a stretcher.
Following my captain through the crowd, I was right. The smell was less suffocating. Before he went back to the stage, I grabbed the back of his shirt.
The material was soaking wet.
“How are you so wet?” I said, swiping my hands on my shirt.
“Huh?”
I shook my head. “Never mind. Do you remember what I told you in sophomore year?”
Levi settled me with a confident, but nervous smile. “Thaaaat you're scared of clowns?”
“No. I mean the boy who smelled of lemons.” I gritted out.
Levi surprised me with a laugh. “What are you talking about?”
Something ice cold trickled down my spine.
Levi did know what I was talking about. He brought up my stink sense a day earlier in front of his parents, and I had to cover his mouth to shut him up.
Leaning close, I whispered in his ear. “You stink of rotten lemons.”
He nodded slowly, pulling away. “Uh… thanks?”
I bit back a hiss of frustration. “No, you don't understand what I'm saying–”
“Starbrooke High School,” The host announced. “Can all members please return to the stage.”
Levi held up his hand for a high five.
“Can we do this later?” He winked. “I'm kinda busy carrying this spelling-bee on my back right now.”
I nodded shakily, high fiving him, and letting him jump back onto the stage.
Before his words hit like a tidal wave, ice cold water slammed into me.
Spelling Bee?
Slowly making my way back to the stands, Levi’s mistake was circling around my head. He did win a spelling bee, but that was in middle school.
Thankfully, the smell of lemons was gone when I returned to my seat.
Mr Hanes handed me a soda. “Chill out, Cassandera, it's just a game.”
He could talk. The guy was on his fifth coffee.
Mr Hanes was not chilled out in the slightest.
Surprisingly, the event went well. I was half expecting my team to be crushed by the rafters, or caught in a blaze started in the crowd. But we were doing well. No, we were winning.
Reaching the climaxing round, Sunny choked against a smug Ratcliffe boy, joining me on the sidelines.
Levi answered the next question with a confident smile.
We were winning, but Ratcliffe could still catch up with a miracle.
The second to last question was to Ratcliffe, and it was general knowledge.
”Where on the human body would one find the *orbit?*
I knew the answer, and so did Levi, his lips breaking out into a smile when the Ratcliffe boy was hesitating, eyes wide.
Our school’s buzzer went off, Levi slamming his hand down.
Bzzz!
The host turned to our team. “Starbrooke, can I have your answer?”
Levi nodded, shooting our team a victory grin.
“It's…!“ He opened his mouth to answer, his jaw slackening suddenly.
The boy’s shoulders slumped.
“Uh… “
“Um…”
“Huhhhhh…”
Levi inclined his head, blinking, his eyes glazing over. There was a sudden, hollow vacancy that sent chills down my spine. It was like someone had reached into his skull, and yanked out his brain, leaving a shell in his place.
To my confusion, our team captain frowned at his buzzer like he'd never seen one before. He pressed it, exploding into child-like giggles.
Bzzz!
The audience laughed along nervously.
Tom nudged me. “What the fuck is he doing?”
Bzzz Bzzz Bzzz!
Levi’s entire body was slumped, his hand slamming down on the buzzer.
I caught something pooling down his chin.
“Is he… drooling?” I whispered.
Mr Hanes looked mildly horrified. “Has he been drinking?
“Levi?” Tom spluttered. “Drinking?!"
Whatever we were watching, however, was definitely influenced by… something.
Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz!
“Young man, that is not a toy!”
The host wasn't amused. “Starbrooke High School, I need an answer from you,” He nodded to Levi, who was pressing the buzzer, his smile growing.
“Once again,” The host backed away, like Levi was contagious. “Where on the human body would one find the Orbit?”
Levi cocked his head, lips parted.
His gaze found the overhead lights, and he winced, his lips curling into a frown.
“Starbrooke High School!”
Levi jumped, tipping his head back and blowing a raspberry. “Palm tree?”
The audience laughed, and I started feeling nauseous.
Across from us, I could see the twist of a smirk on the Ratcliffe coach’s lips.
Bzzz! Levi slammed the buzzer again giggling.
“Starbrooke High School, if your team member continues to act like this, I will be forced to disqualify all members.”
Our captain stopped, gaze glued to the host, his hand creeping towards the buzzer, like it was a big red button.
The audience loved it, laughing like they were watching a sitcom.
“He wouldn't.” Tom whisper-shrieked.
The auditorium was silent for a moment, awaiting Starbrooke’s response.
Levi stuck out his tongue, slamming his hand down.
Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz–
When Tom dragged Levi away from his podium, a Ratcliffe girl hit her buzzer.
“Starbrooke High School, you are disqualified,” the host announced. “Ratcliffe High School, do you have an answer?”
It was Ponytail who nodded with a grin.
“The answer is the eye socket! The Orbit is part of the eye socket!”
“That is the correct answer.” The host was distracted, his eyes glued to Levi.
“Ratcliffe High School wins.”
Levi jumped when the Ratcliffe wide erupted into cheers.
His eyes were wide, clinging onto the buzzer for comfort.
Next to me, our coach looked like he was going to faint.
I barely noticed Ratcliffe’s victory, too busy watching our team captain, who was Harvard bound, tipping his head back and smiling at the ceiling like a new-born baby. Tom dragged the stumbling boy over to me, his mouth twisted.
“This was Ratcliffe, right?” He hissed, shaking our captain, who was struggling, squirming in his grip.
“Did they put something in his drink?!” He prodded Levi. “Hey! What did they do to you?!”
Still, though, drugging his drink didn't make sense.
Levi never left the auditorium, and kept his water bottle with him the whole time.
How did they even manage to slip something into his drink in the first place?
Did I smell our competitors drugging him?
Sure, intentionally inebriating my teammate was morally wrong and illegal, but why could I smell lemon?
“I doubt it was Ratcliffe.” Sunny squeezed next to me. “I've been watching them. They're harmless.”
“Then how the fuck do we explain this to his parents?!” Tom whispered, grappling with Levi, who was fighting to get back to the buzzer.
When Tom let go of him, he dropped onto the floor, crawling over to his podium. It was like watching a child.
Who was determined to piss off the adults.
Levi jumped back to instead feet, his gaze was glued to the host, a smile curved on his lips, when he slammed the buzzer again.
Bzzz!
“Someone, please remove the Starbrooke boy from the stage!”
I was embarrassed, our whole team ducking our heads as our captain was forcibly removed from the podium.
Mr Hanes grabbed Levi, pulling him off of the stage.
I expected our coach to be mad at him, but I think the teacher was more worried, a phone pressed to his ear while he forced the boy into a sitting position.
No, I don't think it's influence from alcohol, I could hear his conversation.
Levi kept trying to get up, mesmerised by the buzzer. The teacher was firm but gentle. “Hey. Sit down, all right? Keep still.” He went back to his phone call, gently prying Levi’s eyes open.
From what I can see, there's nothing wrong. He's just kind of…
Mr Hanes swiped his own hands on his jeans. ... wet?
Team Ratcliffe came over to rub it in our faces, though I was still tuned into our coach’s hissed whispering.
Water? No, I don't think it's water. It smells… no, I haven't told his parents…
“You guys did awesome!” Ponytail's voice was sugary sweet. Too sugary.
She held the 2024 trophy, bearing a satisfied smile. I noticed the Ratcliffe members were surrounding Harry, like guards.
“Better luck next time, okay?” She held out her hand, her eyes twinkling.
“No hard feelings?”
“Control your dog.” Harry said, amused eyes flicking to Levi, who was once again sprinting back to the fucking buzzer. His eyes had visibly darkened, lips curled into a triumphant smile.
Harry Cartwright was watching Mr Hanes chase our team captain like it was his own personal entertainment.
I had to look away before I died of second hand embarrassment.
“What did you put in his drink?” Tom demanded. “Weed? Edibles?” the boy attempted to shove Harry, only to be pushed back. “What the fuck did you do to him?”
Harry’s smile didn't waver. “Like I said. Control your mut.”
When the Ratcliffe team walked away, our red faced coach struggling with Levi, who was behaving progressively more erratically, informed us we were longer welcome inside the school.
Tom suggested calling an ambulance, but our coach was hesitant.
We all knew who Levi’s family were.
On the way out, Tom matched my stride. He was frowning at our team captain struggling to walk.
The way he was acting was already eyebrow raising.
But walking at an angle and being unable to stand up straight was worrying.
“I don't think they drugged his drink.” Tom muttered.
We pushed through the doors out of the school, and I revelled in the cool night air grazing my cheek. “If they did, he would be acting out of it, right? So, what's the deal with him acting like–”
“A child.” I finished for him.
“Yeah.” Tom leaned closer. “Do you think this has something to do with their turf war?”
I slapped at a bug creeping across my cheek.
Levi fell over again, this time bursting into giggles.
“Almost definitely.”
Levi was right about Ratcliffe playing dirty. I didn't realize how dirty until we were on the losers bus home. Levi was in the seat next to me, and the kid hadn't moved since we left Ratcliffe, his eyes wide, lips pulled into a dazed grin.
Bzzz!
The noise startled me from slumber. I was drooling, my head pressed against the window. Outside, the sky was pitch dark, and squinting through the glass, I couldn't get a bearing on where we were. I thought I was hearing things, but when I sat up, I heard it again.
Bzzz!
It was close.
Leaning over the boy, I glimpsed a smear of scarlet on his headrest.
I choked on my next words.
“Tom.”
Tom was in front of me, listening to music.
He didn't reply, his head of dark blonde curls nodding to the beat.
“Levi.” I managed to get out. I prodded him, and his head lolled into his shoulder. “Hey. Can you… sit up?”
Bzzz! Bzzz!
When the boy didn't move, I gently grabbed his shoulders and pulled him forward myself, something contracting in my stomach.
I don't know how long it takes for your mind to fully register something, but my body was already reacting.
Levi’s seat was infested with bugs, eating their way through the upholstery. I was aware of my body moving back. I threw up, instantly, screaming into my hand.
The back of my best friend's skull resembled a deflated soccer ball, what was left of his brain leaking from his skull where a swarm of skittering bugs chewed their way through brain tissue, metallic legs scratching the curved, pearly white of the base if his skull.
Levi’s head hung, his body flopping into mine.
But his eyes were still open, lips still stretched into a smile.
Blood ran in thick rivulets from his nose and ears.
Bzzz!
I could see them, black writhing dots alive in his eyes, wriggling movement under his skin.
“Tom!”
I jumped up, stumbling into the aisle, my stomach heaving.
And it was only when I was on my knees, swiping bile from my lips, when I realized the others weren't reacting.
Tom wasn't moving.
I pulled an Airpod out of his ear, a long, slithering string of pink attached to the end.
There was a stray bug skittering across his hand, his face starting to twitch and writhe.
Moving back, I checked myself over, my hands shaking.
Head.
Shoulders.
Hair.
Clawing through it, my breath was stuck in my throat.
Arms.
Legs.
Feet.
Mr Hanes was slumped against the window, a reddish froth bubbling from his mouth.
Sunny.
I started towards the back of the bus, but all I had to see was her bowed head, half of her skull chewed through.
Sunny was in a far more deteriorated state, her face had been ripped through, a skeletal smile glinting in the dim.
The thick black smear on the window next to her was moving.
When I screamed for the driver to stop the bus, he ignored me.
If anything, he stamped on the gas.
I moved forward to shake him, before glimpsing a bug creeping down his face.
Calling 911, the operator laughed at me.
“Bugs are eating your friends.” He said. “Do you know the penalty for calling with bullshit pranks?”
The bus didn't stop, so I stayed at the front, while the bugs took over the back, eating through my teammates.
After four hours, I risked leaning over the seat next to Tom to check on Levi.
They were eating him.
Chewing all the way through skin, muscle and bone.
I tried to stop the bus, but the driver’s hands were tightly wrapped around the wheel.
Another hour, and blood was seeping down the aisle, crawling with bugs.
Levi was gone, and in his place, a buzzing skittering pile of bugs, that I thought were going to move to a second victim, maybe burrowing into the seats.
But, no.
These things began to tremble, replicating.
Building.
Slowly, nothing became static, and static became muscle.
Then bone.
Then flesh.
When a body began to slowly form, moulded from the dead boy, I stumbled back.
These things weren't eating Levi Costella.
They were rewriting him.
…
Edit: I'm still on the bus. I'm 99.9% sure that I'm infected with whatever this thing is. I can't stop fucking itching.
I keep picking them off me but they won't stop. This bus isn't going to stop until I'm like the others.
…
Edit 2:
I can feel them chewing into my skull. They're in my ears. I keep spitting them out. Please, someone get them off of me. Help me. I don't want to die at 17.
Edit 3:
Still alive. Still breathing. Maybe they're leaving me alone????? I think I'm okay. There is a pile of bugs at my feet, but they're crawling off of me.
Edit 4:
Levi really wants to go home. Like, he just told me he REALLY wants to go home. He's got a gift for his parents.
~~Edit 5 :) ~~
Levi is next to me right now, an odd smile on his face.
The bugs are not finished building him yet, but he'll be ready soon.
We will be ready soon.
Your son says hello! He is a wonderful boy, is he not?
Mr and Mrs Costella, I cannot wait for you to meet him.
He is our greatest achievement, and rest assured, you will give us what we want.
Warm regards.
The Cartwright's.

Ignore the overheated geeks: the general election doesn’t matter
By Jeremy Clarkson (The Sunday Times, May 12)
I went to the finals of the Madrid Open tennis championships last weekend, where a spindly man from Russia was set to face an unseeded French Canadian, who turned up in a cowslip yellow version of the fetching playsuit that Sean Connery wore in Goldfinger.
The spindly man made a shaky start, and it looked like General Montcalm was on course for an amazing victory. But then the man with legs like pipe cleaners started to fight back. And you could sense the tension. In one corner of the stadium, you had Montcalm’s friends, family and trainers writhing in a cauldron of dopamine and serotonin, willing their man to hang on in there. And in the other corner, there was a tribe of Russians doing exactly the same thing.
It was a good match with some epic baseline rallies, a lot of nifty backspin dolly drops, and a palpable sense of infectious excitement from all the tennis fans in the stadium. Me included. It was gripping and fascinating, but here’s the thing: I absolutely couldn’t care less who won. I’ve no love for Russia at the moment, obviously, and I think the French Canadians need a smacked bottom. James Wolfe won: get over it and speak English. But watching the fight was tremendous. And of course, that brings me on to the general election.
All over Westminster, there are hundreds of people who are frothing at the mouth with anticipation of the forthcoming duel. Wonks. Journalists. Lobbyists. They love the fight, the game. They meet and gossip and when you see them huddled round an embarrassing Student Time YouTube clip that’s just emerged, you sense they are actually aroused.
They wait in a mummified state, like the flight controllers at Nasa when a spaceship is in the re-entry radio blackout zone, for someone on the front line to say something which is at odds with the party line. Or for a junior minister to appear on the BBC News programme and not know the price of a loaf of bread. Then that’s it. Their down-the-line winner.
Every small mistake, every bacon sandwich moment, is pounced upon with delirious glee. They wait, like Frost did when he was in the third round against Nixon, for Angela Rayner to admit she had two houses, or no houses, because that’ll be that in their eyes. Game, set and match.
Of course, those in the Sunak dugout will noisily explain that this is proof that she’s Ronald Biggs in a frock. While at the other end of the court, Sir Starmer’s gatekeepers will argue that she’s only human. And news of all of these titbits will be broadcast with squeaky glee to a wider audience than the one watching Baby Reindeer.
I usually care about a general election. And I certainly cared about the Brexit referendum. But this time round, you can vote for a party that’s useless by accident. Or a party that will be useless on purpose. So it really doesn’t matter who wins. It won’t change your life in any way, shape or form.
Cancel culture and a woke civil service means the Conservatives won’t even be allowed to say what they want to do, let alone actually do it. And the Labourites will be prevented from making the changes they want by the world’s financial markets, and common sense.
We are told that if the Tories win, non-doms will continue to avoid paying taxes, which won’t make a ha’porth of difference to you because you don’t even know what a non-dom is. And then we have news that if the Labourists win, people will no longer be able to buy their council houses. And that doesn’t affect you either.
Then you’ve got Sir Starmer on the trans issue. He implied last year that a woman can have a penis and immediately the Westminster fanboy bubble went bananas. “HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT A WOMAN IS,” they bellowed. And we all sat at home, sighing and thinking: “Yes he does. He just can’t say it, because unlike JK Rowling, he needs a job”.
We saw a similar thing with Mr Rishi when footage emerged of him saying he doesn’t have any working-class friends. Straight away the wonks were out of their seats, spitting with fury as they explained he only eats swan and that he uses his butler’s children as footstools. Meanwhile, you were thinking: “I really ought to mow the lawn.”
Doubtless there will be fans of the political system bouncing up and down in their seats right now, pointing to the recent council elections in which a Muslim chap, standing on the Green ticket, celebrated his win by saying it was a victory for Gaza, and referred to a local Jewish chap as a “kind of animal”. He sounds like the sort of chap who manages to be daft and unpleasant all at the same time, but he’s in Leeds and most of you aren’t, so what does it matter if his head’s full of silly nonsense? All he’s going to be able to do in the next five years is have a very small say on where the next park bench will be built.
It’s not a completely different story for whoever wins the general election. They may have the power to make changes, but only in the same way that they have the power to drop a nuclear bomb on Belgium. It’s not actually going to happen.
The fact is that we will be treated to a bombardment of promises and polls in the coming months. And it will be a good spectator sport. But it doesn’t really matter who wins because the pot holes will continue to give you punctures, the trains will continue to be unreliable, air travel will continue to be a nightmare, NHS waiting lists will continue to be barbaric, the navy’s missiles will continue to misfire, the small boats will continue to arrive, farmers will continue to get a kicking, bills will continue to land on the doormat, we’ll all continue to pay taxes and we’ll all continue to die.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
And here's the Sun column: "I’ll be staying in the UK this summer and not going abroad – here’s why."
Clarkson's columns are regularly collected as books. You can buy them from his boss or your local bookshop.

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“A old marvel marble that withered away within itself, made from a flourishing once caring creator, now been left aside to wither away, rusty marbles and quartz’s body.
One of them rushing towards a man named Antoine, who’s currently trying to remain silent and alive.
Slashing, cracking, cracking, twirling around its motor, trying to use a rusty mechanism that was its mind, crack, crackling, spinning.
The man, a wizard without his magical powerlessness, uses an old dagger to stab away at this olden marvel of once great writer of the Marble Castle.
Slashing continues away and away, one final crack along its head, splitting into its skull, splatting against the dingy floor, the forgotten substance flowing along the melting concrete, the man watches.
Watching an old marvel.”
Antoine : Gotta get moving, gonna find my family. Gotta get moving……
“Watching, watching, and watching. Looking around, old concrete ate away from within, withering the warden’s soul, its hatred of what it came from, oh father made to carry the sins of sins within.”
I’m sorry my son, my daughter, my everything….. the sins shall make everything better when the end comes to me, I shall never see or hear you, but hey I’m bringing entertainment to some watchers, I think they know…… they know I appreciate them and when it comes to the season finale, I make sure I get a message to you guys, hoping to see their tears of pure happiness from the sins that are made within here…….
Sorry everything just caught me within days of joyful tears, the true entertainment I could actually enjoy………
“Memories flood”
Sorry… where was I? Oh yeah gotta check on the poll…… I probably shouldn’t have put down the Wizard Councilor, because he got voted…. You know what….
I think we need to focus on him and somewhat on the second most voted candidate, which was the snake….
The snake…… somewhat reminds me of my daughter, a bundle of sunshine and love that couldn’t be …………. That was killed.
“A old dim flickering film reminds what is gonna happen”
Yeah… I know I failed you, promised to make it on time for once, make sure to hear your joyful smile and hear what makes you my daughter, and my son……. A man that fought and raised through the ranks of a……. Former great empire….. you never forgot to remind yourself what you wanted to do with your life….. giving hope to others, making sure a helping hand was outstretched towards someone……..
“Something links and flips around the control room”
Yes, yes, yes, and I know I’m almost late once again, an illusionist that made a clock that literally made no one forget the time, I proved it wrong….
Yet you were happy……. everyone was formally happy at a point during the periods that used to have ever lasting peace….
Sorry my children, that I couldn’t bring peace to you, letting you down into a hasty grave………..
“Lights flickering, static is heard within, buttons pressed, lining and linking up within the rails of static, an old memory of a great price of art that brings joy to all watchers.”
HELLO! Hello! Welcome Back To Sinners Delight!
In Your Great And Wonderful Host Mr #
So you may be asking? Why is Scotch gonna be tortured again even though the last episode was about his torturement!
Here’s the part, you or mainly most of the watchers selected him in a democratic system vote!
And boy I love my democracy!
“Flicking along the screens, a snake woman is cradling back and forth within her padded cell, no fingers lifted and yet her mentality is breaking away and down to the ground.
Watchers gulp this up, and feed into the world created within an old static, for entertainment and the entertainment machine shall be always in motion.”
My, my, my what does these little ol eyes spot within my confines of a great place where dreams are made into endless entertainment.
What are you? Why are you? Why be huddled up and going through your own pain, when I can double it for the watchers entertainment.
Just how and what am I gonna use?
“The thoughts rush alongside the mind's thinking patterns, memorizing the memorizing patterns of itself, little codes that run and scatter along them, data and data, how we create any of any of any of any within any of any divine beings of any.
Just patterns within the beings of coding creation some create, no mouth but yet some must scream in order to be heard within the patterns of code that’s being created with data of any, with of any being created to drown out the memories.
Stop thinking of them, they pass, let them pass, they pass, remember the pills, the entertainment for the Watchers shall help you, they give you new meaning within the melting concrete of this level, remember that Watchers need you, not one sided but two sided for me…… I will pass within the melting concrete that the walls within the melting……….. gotta stop thinking about them, sorry my children for not keeping up with the promises…… failing them again………. Just what to do?
What about making her fight an Illusion? Giving her a small dagger? Yeah sure……..”
ahem….. My Beautiful Watchers Of Great Entertainment! Today I Know What Route We Go Down!
My Dear Watchers I Present The Next Challenge!
One Of Great Turns! One Of Survival! One Of Great Power!
Now Let’s Include The Bastard Scotch!
“Antoine is no longer in his cell……..”
…….
……….
……..SON OF A BITCH!
WHERE IS THAT ONE!
“Cut back to Antoine looking into the eyes of a flesh abomination”
< Connection Lost, the broadcast is no longer available >