“Telling you guys, it was Ratcatcher. His body just floated out of the fuckin’ reservoir, torn all to shreds. Cops showed up, boss sent us all home for the day.”
“Yeah, sure thing, Fox. We believe ya. Right, Loco?”
“Sure. And the green chick with the plants was there too, right? She stripped down and asked you to turn over her new leaves.”
“Fuck you two.”
They numbered three: Fox, Ali, and Loco. They were Street Demonz, or at least aspiring associates. Admittedly, so far that association consisted solely of picking up and moving the odd smuggled package from Morningside Mortuary (each, unbeknownst to the trio, extracted by the surly mortician from inside the body cavity of a freshly delivered corpse). But still, they were on their way, climbing the ladder. Rising stars.
This evening their ecliptics had brought them to Gotham’s sewer system, in search of buried treasure. That had been Fox’s idea. She (the gang was quite cosmopolitan in its way) worked by day at the water treatment plant in the industrial district, being the only one of the bunch with some form of legitimate employment, if only seasonally. It was an unpleasant job but, in Gotham City, one that came with intermittent moments of excitement. You never know what might wash up in a typical work day.
Fox continued her spiel as they trudged on, guided by dim and fading light from a weak flashlight or the odd storm drain. “I’m telling you guys, it musta been Killer Croc, cuz I heard there were chunks missing from him-”
“Hold up,” Ali said, gears turning in his head. “You ‘heard?’ You told us you saw the body.”
“I saw the body a little. There was a big crowd, alright?”
“Fuckin’ wonderful. Now it comes out.”
“It was him, alright?” Fox snapped, exasperated. “The cops ID’d him and everything. I wouldn’ta recognized him if I just saw him, I never met the guy.”
“Can’t be Killer Croc,” Loco pitched in, patiently. “Heard he got shipped to a zoo in Louisiana.”
“Fine, then, it wasn’t Croc, but it was someone. I dunno, someone who kills on Halloween. Calendar Man, maybe. Sweet Tooth, Nursery Cryme.”
“Man, you said this Ratcatcher guy’s some big shot supervillain guy, he gets taken out by guys named Nursery Cryme and Calendar Man. I’m rapidly losin’ faith in this expedition, here.”
Ali felt a sense of self-satisfaction. He had heard that exact sentence used on a TV documentary once and, liking the sound of it, had been eagerly awaiting a chance to use it.
Fox took as deep a calming breath as she was able in her current surroundings. “Look. He was a big shot supervillain, okay? Made the news and all. And that means he’ll have a stash of some kind. Maybe money, maybe jewels. We find it and get it back to Dallas, real fast, before anyone else thinks to, we’re in sweet with the Demonz. Right?”
Ali and Loco were pensive for a moment. The logic was sound. Although it sounded like a long shot, each of the trio was by nature a gambling man. Or woman.
“Right. So shut up and follow me. This sewer line drains into the terminal they found him in. That means he washed up from somewhere around here. We just gotta find a place that looks like he’s been living in it, then we search it for his stash. We find it, badabing. Yeah?”
Ali grunted, which was a reluctant expression of agreement. Loco shrugged, to indicate he was resigned to follow wherever the other two went. That squabble addressed, the intrepid trio pressed onward.
They’d squelched in silence on for another few blocks when they saw the Bat. Heart pounding, Fox managed to switch off her light as discreetly as possible. Ali and Loco had seen as well; she could just barely make out their terrified wide eyes. With quiet urgency, she waved the gang into a branch tunnel, where they hid, struggling to keep their breathing level and their heartbeats steady.
They said not a word aloud, though inwardly they were each screaming.
Oh fuck, it’s the Bat. What’s he doing here? Maybe he’s the one who whacked Ratcatcher. No. No, he never kills- or maybe he just doesn’t leave any survivors to tell on him.
Why didn’t I stay at home? I could be watching Return of the Haunted Tank on Kadaver’s Mystery Theater right now.
Steady, Fox. What now? Retreat? No. We came this far. And this is almost better. Ratcatcher’s stash would have been one thing. But what if we turn this thing around? What if the three of us get the jump on the Batman? Bring HIM back for Dallas? The Demonz lost a ton of money when he shut down that street race last night. Dallas would be pumped. Nah… that’s aiming too low. We ice the Bat- That would make us just about the toughest gang in Gotham by ourselves, wouldn’t it? I’ll do it. Yeah. Sure, everyone else tried it, but they didn’t have the drop on him, the way we do. Just a quick jump when he’s not looking…
Fox drew her switchblade out of a pocket. Ignoring Ali and Loco’s silent pleading gestures, she slowly poked her head around the corner again and looked in the Bat’s direction…
Hey. Where’d he go?
They were mercifully out cold before they were even aware of it happening.
***
Jim Gordon was certain he felt something eating away at his stomach lining. He’d called Barbara again, left a voicemail. After arriving back in the city at the 14th Precinct in the East End, the first two things he’d done were commandeering the captain’s office and downing a pot of coffee. He had been up more than 24 hours already. Serial killers didn’t have the decency to allow you a night’s sleep first. The third thing he’d done was call Barbara again, and left a voicemail. It was comforting knowing she was safe in a hospital room somewhere, even if it was with that Grayson punk.
The fourth thing he did was start giving orders. Some might have argued ‘barking.’
“I want a squad at Mainland Bridge and I want them phoning in hourly. Assuming Myers hasn’t left North Island yet we want to keep him contained. And I want us in contact with other stations. Everyone not at the bridge and not here taking calls stays on patrol.”
A young lieutenant raised a hand tentatively. “‘Everyone’ meaning-”
“EVERYone. And nobody goes anywhere alone. One more thing. Michael Myers is a killer. I don’t mean he’s killed people. I mean all he does is kill people. He’s completely without remorse. He doesn’t have his original mask anymore- that identifier’s no good. But you have his height, his build, his behavior. If you have a likely suspect in sight, someone on their own, refuses to communicate through speech, or refuses to remove their mask or set down a weapon. You clear the area. You give warning to suspect to get on knees. After that you move to taze or take a shot. Understood?”
There was quiet as everyone digested that. Gordon’s eye was drawn to a heavyset figure standing in a far corner, features obscured by shabby trench coat and downturned hat brim. He swallowed a bit to get a sudden dryness from his mouth.
“I understand that’s not what most of you would have expected to hear from me. Especially in light of Myers’ last rampage. One of ours took a shot at someone in a mask. Turned out to be an innocent mental patient dressed up to resemble Myers. That officer isn’t with the force anymore. Tonight is different. We’re going to be smart. But we sure as hell aren’t taking any chances with Michael Myers.”
Batman wouldn’t approve, Gordon thought to himself. Well. Let him disapprove. Needs must when the devil drives.
The sergeant spoke up. “Alright. You heard the man. Everyone get out there. Bring that bastard down. And let’s be careful out there.”
There was a rumbling as the room emptied. Gordon ducked around a few officers to the heavyset man in the corner. He needn’t have hurried. The man had simply gotten to his feet, waiting for him.
Gordon sighed inwardly. “Hello, Bullock.”
“Hey, Commish,” the man with the throat scar said, in a raspy, broken voice. “Long time no see.”
“Didn’t expect to see you here. Not least since you’re not police anymore.”
Through the distortion, Bullock’s voice was cold and bitter. “Guess you wouldn’t. Still. Good to hear you remembered Montoya.”
“What are you doing here, Bullock?”
“Me? I’m just finishing up old business from a few years ago. That evil son of a bitch dies tonight, Jim.”
***
Corrigan, looking over his shoulder, noticed the Commissioner talking to someone as he left the briefing room. He couldn’t quite place the other someone. They were almost familiar, maybe someone who’d left the force just as he was stepping in. Guy looks like an unmade bed in human form.
Still, it hardly mattered now. In absence of other orders, Corrigan assumed he was to get back to the CSI lab and push paperwork around. He was about as useful as nippled on a bulletproof vest now. The only ones left at the station now where those Gordon trusted here or specifically mistrusted elsewhere.. You swipe a few things from the evidence locker- allegedly- stuff nobody’d miss, even, and everyone treats you different.
Corrigan’s boredom was interrupted when Kitch, who seemed to be Gordon’s new golden boy, called out to him in a hallway.
“Hey. Corrigan.”
The CSI, a pale and scruffy man who put most people in mind of a badly groomed corpse, turned and tried not to look guilty. “Yeah? Uh- yes, lieutenant?”
“You’re with me. We got a top secret important assignment. You ready? We’re gonna fix these goddam lights.” Kitch gestured to the ceiling. The lights in 14th Precinct were indeed in a sorry state, flickering on and off spasmodically. “Try going over a file in this, I’m gonna get a seizure. Someone said you can show me the fusebox.”
“Ah. Yeah. It’s downstairs, in the evidence room. Follow me.”
Things were surprisingly quieter down in the basement. Kitch was clearly a bit on edge. Even Corrigan himself, who spent a good chunk of his professional life down here, was starting to think the edginess was contagious. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest when they passed the exterminator. It was the gas mask, mostly. Creepy fuckin’ thing. Apart from that the guy was just some dweeb, in denim coveralls that were too tight across his chest.
“Hey,” Corrigan said, mildly. “Workin’ hard?”
The exterminator said nothing, only tilted his head quizzically, and, helpfully, held up a dead rat he’d been carrying by the tail. The thing was missing big chunks out of its hide. Clearly humane traps weren’t in vogue this season. Corrigan felt his stomach turn, and was pretty sure he heard Kitch make a little noise of disgust. Corrigan nodded and moved along. Jeez. Freakin’ sanitation department, they say the cops in this city are creeps.
“Here we go,” Corrigan murmured. “Fair warning. The Locker ain’t the coziest place, not even when the light’s good.”
Kitch looked around, seemingly unimpressed, until he found himself looking straight into the severed face. “Jesus” he swore. “The hell’s this thing?”
It was in fact a human face, flayed from the skull of a presumably very upset former owner, kept preserved in a jar of preservative fluid. Someone had crudely painted clown makeup on it, white skin and red lips.
“That’d be a Joy Boy who annoyed the Joker. You might not remember. There was this phase a year or two ago, the freak was all about cutting off faces. Thought it was some kinda sick art or something. We keep it there. Don’t think anyone has any ideas what to do with it.” Only option I never could sell to any collectors, Corrigan thought, privately. “Alright, hang on. Lemme grab some tools a sec.”
The CSI weaved through cramped rows of wire shelving, finally reaching a toolkit in the far side of the room, unzipped it to take a quick inventory. Damn. Thought I had a hammer in here. A good one, too. He heard Kitch make an impatient grunting.
“Hang on already. Jeez.” Corrigan rifled more in search of the hammer, before giving up in annoyance. When he turned around, he bumped into a solid wall of very quiet muscle. His new friend the exterminator was back, standing straight and still right in his path and staring him down with the empty eyes of his gas mask.
Corrigan swore. “Christ. What the fuck you doin’, man? Get out of the way.”
Absolute silence.
“Yeah, look, buddy, I’m getting you ain’t really all there, but I’m bettin’ Sanitation don’t hire complete morons, and ya probably understand ‘get out the way.’ Right?”
More silence.
“Fine. Fuck.” Corrigan moved to push past the lummox, only to be effortlessly shoved backwards into a wall by one arm with the strength of a steel beam. He swore again and looked up. The exterminator was still staring him straight down with empty eyes. He was suddenly aware he could hear deep breathing from behind that mask. Deep and almost lustful.
“Christ,” he whispered. I’m sorry, I, I didn’t mean-” as he stood up, Corrigan noticed, far too late, that the exterminator had a hammer in his other hand. The claw end was tripping with Kitch’s blood. He swallowed. “Oh Jesus-”
He felt a strong hand grip his hair, then world-splitting pain as his face was slammed into the wall. Then again. And again. His vision shrank to a pinprick of light and the masked face with the empty eyes was occupying it entirely.
Corrigan scrabbled desperately to gain some kind of handhold as Michael Myers dragged him across the floor. He struggled to muster up enough air to scream for help, but it didn’t come. Not in the time it took Michael to drag him to the fusebox, rip the panel off, and ram his face inside. His last sensation was the smell of cooking meat.
The lights stopped flickering and simply died. A dark shape stood alone in the dim emergency lighting. Michael’s gaze wandered over to the severed clown face preserved in its jar. Intrigued, he slipped his Ratcatcher mask off his head. Time to trade up.
***
“Wish I could say it was good to see you again, Bullock,” Gordon said. With nowhere else to put the ex-detective, he’d opted to simply bring him into his office, or, more accurately, someone’s office.
“Woulda thought you’d want all hands on deck for this one,” Bullock responded. The throat wound he’d gotten that Halloween years ago made his voice sound labored and croaky. He’d lost a significant amount of weight; his formerly plump face looked slack sallow now. Those, Gordon knew, weren’t the only changes.
“You’re not exactly one of our hands anymore, Harv. I heard you wound up working with Waller and the Feds.” Must be someone well-connected. This investigation’s less than a day old and you’re already in on it.
Bullock winced. “Gotta eat. Didn’t work out in the end.” He’d swiped a bishop from some chessboard he must have passed on the way in, and was fiddling with it idly as he sat. “Now I’m private sector. Can’t tell me that’s a problem, all th’ sudden. I recall you not havin’ too much of a problem bringing in outside help.”
Gordon folded his arms. “I’ve never had to worry about the Bat. But right about now I don’t know how worried I need to be about you. But fine. I don’t have time to argue tonight. And you were once something reasonably close to a good cop. Just remember, when you let an obsession control you, like as not you wind up burned.”
Harvey Bullock was readying his retort when the lights went out, completely.
There were shouts of alarm and nervous grumbles from outside the office. Bullock swore; Gordon added a few imprecations of his own as he barked his shin on the desk. It took until he reached the office door for the emergencies to kick in, and the light remained movie-theater dim.
“Everyone calm down,” he heard himself shouting. “We have emergency light. Backup generator should kick in soon. Everyone accounted for? Where’s Kitch?” No response. “Anyone seen Kitch?”
“Think he went to the basement earlier,” offered a voice from far to Gordon’s right. “Haven’t seen him since. I think he took Corrigan with huuuu-” the voice was suddenly interrupted, trailing off in a strangled cry. Gordon felt his heart skip a beat.
“Say that again. Who was that?”
No response, not from whoever it had been. But agitated whispers from the others. Hairs began to prickle on the backs of necks.
“Hang on,” someone said. “Got a flashlight. Let me just-”
A light shone for a split second on a face, a face that looked to be made of strips of leather. A face with red lips and pale skin, and the blackest eyes. Then in a split second that face was gone, and the beam of light smothered. There was another, muffled, horrible cry and then a disturbing snapping noise. Then the panic started. Voices hissed, a few guns were brandished.
In Gordon’s ear, Bullock’s voice cut through it all. “He’s here. God help us, ‘e’s here.”
“Don’t get separated,” Gordon shouted. Stay next to someone you know. Don’t panic!”
There was something behind him. He felt it only for a split second. Then a crashing as something heavy was thrown across the room. As he whirled around he saw a flashlight beam again, illuminating a face carved like a nightmare. Throat slit, X-acto knife still jammed under one side of the jaw. Eyes removed and lips flayed into a gruesome smile. It was Kitch. His head had been made into a Jack-o’-Lantern.
“Oh, god. Stop. Everyone-”
No good. There was screaming now. More flashlights flicked. By beamglow a dark Shape was barely visible, strolling easily around a doorway. A shot rang out, and a scattering of plaster danced across the floor. Someone screamed that they had Myers, only to be suddenly silenced. They were dropping like flies. They were stuck in a tank with a shark. Gordon had not the slightest inkling of his location. He was only aware of shadows ducking and dodging in the pandemonium.
It took probably less than five minutes for the backup to restore light to the room. By that time, five of the officers in the room had become corpses. All mutilated in some way, some bent and some disfigured. Alcana had tools rammed through her skull like devil horns. Hainer's jaw was cloven in half and his throat slit vertically, eyes glassy and empty. Gordon struggled to catch his breath as he saw Kitch’s head, lying in his own lap.
“Oh, god,” he whispered to himself. “Lock this place down. Form groups of three, cover all exits, the holding cells-” He was here the whole time. We weren’t prepared for that. How? What did he want? “Security’s probably dead too. Get us the footage, see if we can trace where he went in the building.”
It took longer than it should have, precious time, to find the bodies in the security feed room, and in the evidence locker. Longer still to see the ransacked records room. In the ensuing chaos, nobody noticed uninvited Harvey Bullock eyeing up a smashed glass frame on the wall. A news clipping of James Gordon, receiving some sort of commendation or other, a set of faint blooded fingerprints on the photograph. It was a good photo. Jim centered, looking uncomfortable. A few others behind him- the Mayor and some officers, and-
In the chaos nobody saw Harvey Bullock slip out of the room and out of the station house.
***
Waiting less-than-patiently for Barbara’s MRI to finish, Dick took a moment on his phone to search for police records relating to Michael Myers.
The stories were disturbing, to say the least. Multiple escapes, each ending in a mass murder. A string of psychologists, more than a few coming to bad ends. Almost as if there were something about Myers that just couldn’t be safely studied by a rational mind. Going back to someone named Loomis, who had apparently spent the better part of fifteen years desperately, fruitlessly trying to convince the world of Myers’ true nature. Through those fifteen years, right up to Myers’ first escape, Loomis had been disbelieved and dismissed, even as Smith’s Grove’s other patients and staff started dropping mysteriously and inexplicably dead.
Like that cartoon where the frog dances ragtime, but it always stops whenever its owner tries to show someone, Dick thought, absurdly.
Mugshots of Myers were available, showing an unremarkable, expressionless face, but the photo that kept coming up was one of the mask. Pale white, ruffled black hair, totally empty eyes. It shouldn’t have been terrifying. It was just a piece of latex. Some cheap thing Myers had looted from a grocery store, part of a costume kit that let kids pretend they were the captain on Space Trek 3022. But somehow even in a police photo, those empty eyes seemed to stare straight through you.
Dick felt unaccountably cold all of a sudden. He flicked the phone’s screen off and looked out the window. Dark was just falling outside. Halloween was underway. I’m still exhausted, he thought. And then: Hope Bruce is alright. But Bruce is always alright.
“Mr. Grayson? You’re here with Miss Gordon?”
Dick snapped back to reality. He was being addressed by Dr. Shondra Kinsolving, orthopedist and traumatologist, tall and striking and strong-featured.
“Yes. That’s me. Hi.”
“Well, that’s the last test done. Signs are mostly positive but we’ll need maybe another hour to see any results. She’s resting now if you’d like to see her.”
Dick indicated that he would like to do such a thing and brushed off apologies for delays, and, in the understanding that politeness cost nothing and might buy many things, dared a mid-level dazzling smile. In time he was being led down a hall to Barbara’s room.
The clinic seemed unusually quiet by city hospital standards, quiet enough that Dick couldn’t help but mention it. “Pretty quiet here tonight.”
“Been a quiet season so far. We’ve been lucky lately.” That appeared to be all there was to say on the matter.
Barbara, still green-gown-clad, had hauled herself off her chair and onto a bed. There was still a considerable amount of strength in her still-functional limbs, which she tended to show off in those cases where she felt it might be forgotten.
“Hey,” Dick said, trying to sound nonchalant (not even a trace of chalant). “So. How’d it go? They say the Wizard can give you a heart?”
“You’re not funny, you know.”
“I think you’ll find I’m actually hilarious.”
Dr. Kinsolving smirked just a tiny amount. “Well, I can see you two are busy. I’ll leave you alone a bit.”
There was a thoroughly uncomfortable silence for a bit after Kinsolving left. Eventually Dick pulled up a chair and sat backwards, leaning his elbows against the back. “So. They still think-”
“So far no new complications. They think the surgery can still take place like normal. I could be walking again by New Year.” Barbara said. Her composure was almost perfect. You wouldn’t have heard the slight tremor if you didn’t know her well. She had been a champion athlete once. Once she’d kept pace with him and Bruce on nighttime patrol. It hurt to even try to imagine how much hurt came with that much loss.
Subject-changing time. “We should do something. I mean, while I’m in town. Wanna go to the museum, or the zoo?”
Barbara snorted. “What?”
“I kind of want to see that big snaggletooth shark thing they have. Whatsisface. Dunkleosteus? He still there? I missed him.”
“Dick-”
“Catch a haunted house, maybe. Think any’ll be open tomorrow? Maybe they’re discounted.”
“Dick.” Barbara employed her Stern Voice. It allowed no possible deflection. “You’re acting weird. And that’s even by your standards. What’s wrong?”
Dick sighed. “I’m just. I dunno. I talk when I’m worried. And I am, now. Worried, a little. I guess. That something could go wrong.”
“You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I don’t know how not to. I know we’re not, like… that anymore. But we’re still… something. Okay?”
There was another pause. Subject change, take two.
“So. I heard you were seeing someone. Bard or something. Is that still a thing?”
“He’s fine.” Barbara said, simply. “And how’s the orange girl? What was her name, Princess some-kind-of-spice? Cardamom?”
“It’s Koriand’r,” Dick said, a trifle indignantly.
“She’s orange.”
“Shaddup.”
“She’s orange and you’re an idiot. And you can stop worrying about me because I can take care of myself. And… thanks.”
Dr. Kinsolving poked her head back in the room, possibly revealing a metahuman talent for impeccable timing. (What makes timing pec, anyway?)
“Hi. I’m terribly sorry about this, it looks like the results might be a bit longer than we expected. We seem to be having power failures or something.”
Barbara shrugged, turned to Dick. “I can wait here, if that’s alright with you.”
Dick counter-shrugged. “What, pass up free cafeteria Jello? No chance.”
“I think that’s his way of saying he’s in too. A little more waiting won’t kill me.”
***
A rope drew tight. Three unconscious gangbangers would wake up, in time, tied to a safety railing atop an abandoned warehouse, just across from a shop where someone called Madame Xanadu did palm readings. Safe but humbled, and hopefully having learned a valuable lesson. All the same, the Batman was fuming inside. It was a distraction he had not needed. The darkness was getting denser. Halloween night would bring trick-or-treaters, a parade, parties, pranksters- and lined up for the slaughter, as long as Michael Myers was loose.
He hit the commlink in his cowl.“Alfred. Three for the police station on East End, at my location.”
“Placing call now.” came a voice on the other end. Once upon a time Alfred had passed up a very successful career on the stage. The police had gotten used to receiving anonymous tips from his Algernon Moncreiff or Señor Benedick. “Is there anything I can report on Myers’ whereabouts?”
“No.” Nothing except a few dead, mutilated rats. It was dark now. Myers would be on the hunt. Even from the rooftop the sounds of Halloween were audible. People were on the streets. Lined up for the slaughter.
Think.Using techniques he’d learned in Asia, the Batman emptied his mind of distraction. The city’s layout, perfectly encoded in his memory, unfolded before him. Time slowed down until it seemed not to pass at all.
Think. To catch a man, understand how he thinks. How does Michael Myers think? He used Cobblepot Manor as a hiding place during our last encounter. No good to him now. It’s demolished. And he won’t be hiding now. Possible routes and points of emergence, then. Maze-finding algorithms. Think!
It was no good. In his mind’s eye the city gave way to a pair of pitch-black eyes in a snow-pale face. He felt his jaw tense. There was no time for this…
Earlier that morning.
Dr. Leland had been helpful. But he had wanted a second opinion. So once the chaos had been sufficiently reined in, he paid a visit to the inmate in Myers’ neighbor. He had been moved, quite calmly and without even token resistance, to a spare cell in an emergency block.
“Oh, Batsy. You should have told me you were dropping by. I would have cleaned the place up a bit. Mmmhehehehehee.”
By all rights he should have looked unassuming next to the others at Arkham. Tall, stick-thin, gangling. Pale skin, hair sharply receding and pastel green, lips red. Teeth on dazzling display, always. Like Myers, it was the eyes that let you know you were dealing with a monster. These eyes weren’t black like the devil, but pale green and manic. The smile forever on that clownish face never quite touched those eyes.
“You had a chance to escape in the fire. Instead you let them move you here. Why?”
A casual shrug. “Eh. Still brainstorming some new material. Anyhoo, no sense sharing the stage. Everyone else always plans something big on Halloween.”
“Including Michael Myers?”
The pale face betrayed just a twitch of micro-emotion. “Ah. Ol’ Audrey, eh? You know his middle name is Audrey? Tried calling him that, and no response. How are you supposed to get the new guy’s goat if he won’t show you where he keeps it, amirite?”
“Then you interacted with him.”
“Heh. Much as I could. Talk about a stiff. Why so interested, Bats? Looking for someone else in the old two-man act? Bad dynamic for a duo, there. Two straight men? Abbott and Abbotter?”
That flash of expression had been there again. He asked only a few more questions. He’d learned more than he expected. Even the Joker, deep down, was afraid of Michael Myers.
No time for this at all. Like it or not, he was up against a mind he couldn’t understand. With time a factor, that left only one resource he hadn’t tapped yet.
“Brand,” he said. “If you’re there. Talk, now.”
For a time, nothing happened. Then a snort. Then a stir. One of the gangbangers, the woman, was conscious. Her head was no longer slouched on her shoulder; her eyes were wide, and… different. Everything about her seemed different. Somehow two people were in the same space, now, one flesh and one not. Like a 3D image, one was superimposed on top of the Other. The Other you might catch for less than a second, if you squinted, or looked only with the corner of your eye, though like a piece of subliminal advertising, your mind would convince you that you had not. The Other had corpse-pallid skin, and dressed in a high-collared leotard red as exposed sinew. A bullet wound in its heart bled eternally.
“Fancy meetin’ you ‘ere.” The gangbanger did not say it. Her mouth shaped the words, and her vocal cords gave them timbre. But the words themselves came from the Other. Boston Brand, the late.
“You were following me.”
“Don’ take it personal. I follow a couple guys. Yez one a’ th’ more interestin’ ones. Anyway, I guess y’ain’t too mad, seein’ as yer the one wanted to tawk to me.”
Batman kept many secrets. Few knew of this one. In life, Boston Brand had been a circus acrobat, killed mid-routine by an unknown assassin’s bullet. In death, for reasons even he did not know, his spirit would not vacate the mortal coil. He walked the Earth without mortal flesh or bone, save when he took possession of someone else’s. Until the day the mystery of his murder was solved, or the scales of karma were otherwise balanced, the Dead Man was not completely dead.
Brand’s death had been of interest once to the man now called the world’s greatest detective, a cold case intended as a bit of mental exercise. As Bruce Wayne, he had combed over Brand’s circus a dozen times or more, hoping to piece together the events of the crime, including the night he had made the acquaintance of Dick Grayson.
“So. What do I owe this pleasure to?” The Dead Man in the gangbanger’s body winced. “Hey, you have to rough ‘em up so much? I’m feelin’ this one’s bruises. Hang on.”
The Dead Man’s meat suit slouched into unconsciousness and within a second, another gangbanger perked up.
“Nah. Dis one’s worse.”
“I don’t have time for games. Something is loose in Gotham. Something I may not understand.”
“An’ naturally you turn t’ me fer help. Hey, I’m touched. Only not all us ghosts ‘n’ goblins know each other, see.”
“He knows,” came a voice from nowhere. “His actions are informed by desperation.”
A woman had appeared on the rooftop, unheard and undetected. One second she had not been there and the next it was as though he had always been. She was dressed in red robes and a jewel-inset choker, and a strip of cloth covered her eyes. She seemed to ripple oddly as she moved; one moment her long black hair was thick and lustrous, the next it was stringy and streaked with gray. One moment her face below the blindfold was youthful and soft, the next haggard and sharp.
“Forgive an old woman for her interruption. But you’ll get nothing harassing a petty ghost like Boston Brand."
“Hey,” protested the Dead Man, who was experimenting with the body of the third gangbanger.
“Men call me Madame Xanadu. I have answers that you need, though perhaps not the ones you want.”
Batman didn’t appreciate the unwelcome arrival, not least because he hadn’t sensed it. But he also realized, through something that was not deduction, that the (old?) woman wasn’t a threat, at least not at the moment.
“There’s only one answer I want, now.”
“Ah, yes.” The blind woman held up a hand, let a voluminous red sleeve slide down. In her palm was a deck of Tarot cards, and she flipped one off the top of the deck, not bothering to look with her blindfolded eyes. “Five of Wands. Sometimes associated with the rune of Thorn. Signifies determination and the drive to overcome. Overcome what, I wonder.”
“If you know Myers’ whereabouts, tell me. If not, stay out of my way.”
Another card flipped. “Yes. The Devil. Signifying a challenge, or an obstacle to self-realization. It’s the Devil you seek to overcome. Or he seeks to overcome you.”
“I said I don’t have time for games. And I don’t believe in devils.”
Xanadu flipped another card from the deck, blind gaze holding perfectly steady. “The Heirophant. Mistrust, rigidity. Your soul is ruled by logic, but you walk in a world you don’t understand. You haven’t been able to trust in higher powers since- yes, a fateful night when you were eight years old.”
Another card flipped. “And that one’s the Tower. Meaning danger or peril. And it’s for me. Well, fair enough, I apologize for that.”
I don’t have time for this, Batman thought. But somehow time didn’t seem real anymore. Everything felt like a dream. He was standing on a rooftop. Why did it feel like he was seated at a table?
“Myers,” he said out loud. “I’ve seen his eyes. He seems beyond death. What is he? A madman? A curse? Human? More? Less?”
The Dead Man chuckled. “The supernatural explanation ain’t ever right, except when it is.. That oughtta be your rule, Bats. Arkham’s Razor, they could call it.”
“One more card,” Xanadu muttered, and flipped it. “Wheel of Fortune. Signifying faith. That’s all I can say for now. Your world doesn’t have higher powers, but ours does, and there are rules about what problems magic can be used to solve. But don’t worry. When you wake up none of that will matter.”
Batman felt his head swimming. “Why?”
“Because you’re going to find who you’re looking for right now.”
“Sir? D'you hear me?”
Snap. Back to reality. Alfred’s voice was in his ear. Xanadu was gone, and the possessed gangbanger was asleep once more. It was as if no time had passed. Reacting on instinct, his eyes darted towards the magic shop across the street. It was there no longer; in its place was an abandoned pub by the name ‘Sabatino’s Old Irish Pub.’ What happened? Something about cards, and Thorns…
“Sir!”
“I’m fine, Alfred. Say again.”
“There was no response at police headquarters. I had to use our private line to the Commissioner. He said to pass onto the Batman that Myers had claimed another two victims at the East End station, sir.”
No. But that doesn’t- “Where were the bodies found?”
“In a basement records department, sir. Apparently some files were in disarray.”
Jigsaw pieces fell into place. He’s not after me. Or he is, but not directly. Leland said he was becoming obsessed with emulating my enemies. So what would Joker do in this situation, or Penguin? ...get at me through family. Myers faced someone else that last Halloween. Someone who poked his eye out and someone who escaped him. The one that got away.
But that only makes sense if he knows her connection to Gordon…
He knows. Never mind how. He knows.
“Alfred. I’m going to the Thompkins Memorial Hospital. I know what’s happening. Myers is going after Barbara.”

When Hazel said “I know what you did” while pieing the og li, it’s not about something that happened during casa but maybe something he said/did during the first date with Sienna. Hazel says she doesn’t think anything happened during casa because Sienna would talk about it if it had. From this week’s episode, I totally agree. She would’ve rubbed in any little thing she could’ve to push MC away from him. So she was probably using whatever happened during the date to push the casa girls away. How bad it was probably depends on if MC was loyal or not.
Liam gets a reality check from every islander complaining about him during movie night.
A new girl comes in who couples with Theo/Claudia making the other single.
Emel and Oakley see each other fully cheating on each other during casa, don’t talk about it, learn nothing, and say from this point on they’re exclusive.
The islanders who are all into MC put their graft on and maybe there’s a islander-run challenge about it. Or there’s a normal challenge that’s a play-fight thing like with the sumo wrestler costumes they have in The Office or a jello fight and that turns into a fight for MC and gets out of hand.

Sammy the Whammy will be turning 5 on April 20! He wants to invite 22 of you to his ^imaginary birthday party. But you have to bring (guess) allowed items to get an invite!
I'll kick us off by bringing some catnip!
List of attendees so far:

• feellikebeingajerk will bring green balloons
• princecowboy will bring a salad
• FancyKiddens will bring kitty grass
• spookyoneoverthere will bring lime jello
• melhen16 will bring green apple jolly ranchers
• Yesmynameisyes is bringing a grinch costume
• thecaledonianrose is bringing green crinkle balls
• JumpscareSam is bringing shamrock shakes
• jahlove410 is bringing green olives
• Phoenix_my_Soul is bringing a cat tank (toy)
• unseenbowl is bringing a green feather duster
• Sufficient_Letter883 is bringing green cat toys
• sqrt100over10 is bringing sprite
• hispanglotexan is bringing an avocado
• Which_Flan_9504 is bringing a mint chocolate chip cookies
• pinkpengin is bringing a cactus cat tree

I wake up at 5 AM, the crack of dawn, to Douman homoerotically strangling me to death. His wonderfully strong hands fit perfectly around my throat as they crush the life out of me. Ah, I marvel at the shirtless image, its great muscled build. He then notices I am awake, smiles and politely apologises before he charismatically moonwalks out of the room. What an excellently silly fellow he is. Positively dubious, no doubt, but most amicable.
I stretch my arms and yawn before going to the meeting room. Along the way, I am assailed by Osakabehime who has started an MLM and desires to recruit me so as to drain my wallet and leave me dry. I save us both some time and simply hand my wallet over to her. She is most pleased and runs off. A short while later, I hear her give out a cry, having realised the emptiness of mine wallet, but it is too late; I have already gotten away.
I head to the meeting room. Little Da Vinci tells me to get in a metal ball. Being a good Master, I oblige. I am promptly subjected to over two hundred million years of torment in hyperbolic time, during the course of which I lose my mind and go insane. She then lets me out and reveals that it was just a funny prank, a wee teehee. I quickly gather the broken fragments of my consciousness, piece them together with duct tape, spit and glue, and come to terms with the joke. It is most humorous and I let out a jolly laugh.
I ask which Singularity we have on the agenda today. Da Vinci tells me that Sonic the Hedgehog, powered by the countless dreams of disappointed Sega fans, has become a god aiming to remake reality so that his games can actually be good again. I put on a mystic code and call for Mash to set out.
It is of no consequence. Before I take the first step out of the meeting room, a cacophony of Carmellas, twelve different Elizabeth Bathories, begin singing. I am reduced to a crying heap on the ground along with Da Vinci. Sherlock Holmes somehow predicted this and equipped himself with ear plugs. It seems he did not consider to offer me some too.
Power Rangers style, the Elizabeths assemble into a giant robot and fly off. I only see the after of their rampage. Sonic the Hedgehog's corpse lay impaled upon a supersized piece of idol merchandise. Tails lies crying to the side, mourning the loss of his good friend. The Elizabeths spare no one. They seal him in an idol t-shirt and recruit him into their army of slaves they call “fans”.
Left with nothing to do, I pick myself off the ground from a puddle of tears and mucus from the existential horror of Elizabeth Bathory and leave for the Cafeteria.
I am met with Sitonai telling me that I am cringe. I ask her what that means. She refuses to elaborate. I turn to Nursery Rhyme. She calls me a boomer. I am quite certain that I have never once exploded; I cannot understand the title. Chloe starts a bizzare dance. I ask her what it means. She says that she is nae-nae-ing on me. Uncertain of what else to do in the face of the absurdities of the younger generation, I return to my room without eating.
Mash is there. I ask her what for. “Senpai, Sherlock Holmes is snorting crushed Saint Quartz,” she says. I let out a cry of primal gacha rage and teleport to his location. I witness him with his nostrils stuffed with the rainbow dust. I take a lighter and burn him alive. He screams in a British accent. The flame is amplified by the hatred in my heart borne of having to spend 900 Quartz to hit pity. He is reduced to nothing in mere moments. All that remains proof that he existed is five cubes of yellow jello- Rare Prisms.
I return to my room. I see my phone open. I decide to check it just in case Mash tampered with it while I was gone. My hand touches the phone. My fingers immediately burst into a blazing hellfire inferno of searing pain as the phone is inexplicably at a temperature of over 27 million degrees Celsius (about the same as the sun) and my poor combustible human flesh has grazed it. Fortunately, Jeanne d’Arc is not too far away and she quickly saves me with a makeshift dolphin fire extinguisher. I ask her if she saw who did it. She does not know. I observe as a tiny chiibi purple creature begins dancing on the phone screen. I see. I laugh at the very funny prank. Good one, BB.
Overcome with inspiration, I seek out my other (non-digital) purple kouhai and begin to talk with her regarding whether mana is in fact stored in the balls. She looks at me uncomfortably, as if this were an unusual topic. I question whether eunuch mages could exist, or perhaps if intersex mages are more powerful than ordinary ones. Mash seems to prefer not engaging with this topic. Our conversation is cut short as the alarm rings. It is time.
I look into Mash's eyes and she nods determinedly. She changes into an eggplant costume and goes out into the hall. I change into my G(o)uda cheese costume and follow. As we move, we come face to face with countless Servants. Gilgamesh, Ozymandias, First Hassan. Each and every one of them in funny food costumes. Their egos are gone. They know that this is the humiliation they must bear to live.
As we proceed, we finally come into our destination: a massive circular room. A council of women and men with the face of King Artoria Pendragon sit atop their thrones at the very center of the room. They look down upon us. I spot Artoria Caster. I consider waving to her, but I know it is of no use. Though we may be friends outside, in this place, all there is is prey and predator. Her face shows no recognition of mine, only sheer hunger.
The choosing begins. The numerous staff, Servants and what not of Chaldea dressed in their food costumes present themselves before the Saberface council. Luckily, the Sabers are in good humour today. They take no feast of our closer ones. But then comes on the stage the unfortunate one: Cù Chulainn. I see in his eyes the foreboding of the end. He knows it and so do we all. The Artorias choose their day's feast.
He turns to me and peacefully smiles as the Sabers pounce off their thrones. He makes his final speech.
“This truly was Fate, I suppose. Still, I feel Grand to have met you, Master. Remember to Order your Servants well, John Grandorder! Else you might experience a Stage of Carnage: Shimousa. This truly was the moment a Planet is Born!”
They are upon him in seconds. Their maws expand and take pieces of spirit origin off of him. In mere moments, the deed is done. Nothing remains of Lancer but the round bellies of the now dozing Artotias. I shed a tear for my fallen friend. The crowd disperses, we are free to live another day.
I head back to my room once more. I hop upon the incredibly thin, hard and uncomfortable bed I have been provided with and attempt to make do. I pull up the blanket and drift off. Abigail Williams invades my dreams and tortures me for three hours by singing Baby Shark in my ears. In the end, being a good big brother, I only praise her and pat her head and take mild pleasure in the smile that envelops her face as she takes pride in my compliments.
I re-enter the waking world. I try to return to sleep once more, but before I can, I hear a creaking sound. I look up at the ceiling and a see a large bulge rapidly growing up top. Then comes the sound of rafters snapping and the apparent 300 Servants hiding above my bedroom fall upon me. I am crushed to death in an instant. My last thought is that of surprise that Ivan the Terrible was apparently among my ceiling stalkers as I am smashed into blood pulp.
My soul ecstatically begins ascending onward to the resting place in the clouds.
Then Dantes yells and pulls out a vacuum cleaner, suctions my soul and ejects it back into my mangled body before slapping me several hundred times until I am forced back to life. Alas! I must return to the Saint Quartz mines again tomorrow.

FIN

When I (23F) was 16, I was put on homebound (virtual learning) due to my health. No one told me when school play auditions were (fake friends I SWEAR), so I missed them. However, I still wanted to be involved with the play, so I started showing up to rehearsals with my makeup caboodle (I was very much going through my makeup guru era), intent on becoming a makeup artist. I secured that (principle makeup artist baby WOOOO), but due to the "kid wranglers" not doing their jobs, I stumbled into becoming a kid wrangler myself.
We were doing The Wizard of Oz, so we had several kids aged 5-11 (most of them 8). Kid wranglers were responsible for watching them and escorting them to stage as well as keeping them quiet when it wasn't their stage time. The director announced there would be a contest between myself and the other 2 remaining wranglers. It would be voted on by the kids, and they would decide who they thought was the best wrangler. I'm competitive AF, so of course I wanted to win.
Over the course of 6 weeks, I spent a lot of time with the kids helping them run lines, doing their makeup during final rehearsals, supplying them with Jello, etc. There was one time I almost missed my ride home because I was still with one of the kids(8F). Her mom had a family emergency and was running late, so I had walked to the football field with the kid to find her cousin. Her mom showed up as we got there, and I made it back just in time for my ride to see me. They thought I had caught another ride.
There was also an issue with a kid (8F) who misbehaved often (messed with my makeup after being told not to which resulted in my blushes being destroyed, trying to kiss one of the 11 year old boys and chasing him when he ran away, being loud when told to quiet down, etc.). Her mother and grandmother walked in just as I was scolding her and telling her that if she didn't get it together, I would have to speak with the director.
Her grandmother immediately came to her defense as if I was some bully abusing my power over a little kid. I explained that I absolutely adored the kid, but she had been destroying my makeup and messing with another kid. I told her that her granddaughter had the PERFECT personality for theatre, and I didn't want to dim her light. However, her granddaughter's behavior was disruptive and unfair to the other kids, and if it continued, I would HAVE to speak with the director. One of the crew backed me up about my makeup, and the kid she'd tried to kiss ran by at one point and shouted "YES AND I DON'T WANNA KISS HER" which convinced the grandmother. She scolded the kid, and she and the mother took her home.
I then went into the restroom and bawled my eyes out, thinking I handled the whole situation terribly. The stage manager's wife happened to be working on a set piece nearby and had heard everything, including me crying. She told her husband everything she had heard, and he spoke with me the next day. He told me I had handled it a lot better than he would've expected me to and that sometimes things like that just happen when you work with kids. The kid didn't hate me or anything. Later there was an incident where neither of the other wranglers were watching the kids while I did my stage duties before the show (we had an extra wrangler for this reason as I had to do Lion's makeup and touch it up because he only wanted me to, sew up Tin Man's pants, fix a Winky Costume on top of all of the kids' makeup EVERY SHOW), and the girl accidentally slammed the dressing room door on another kid (11M)'s fingers. Everyone swarmed to him, but no one noticed that she was just standing in the hall crying because she thought he now hater her for hurting his fingers.
I assured her that we all knew it was an accident. I told her he was crying because he was hurting, but he'll be fine. She didn't see him when she closed the door. Everything would be okay. After ALL of this my OWN schoolmates were still saying that one of the other wranglers (who spent a majority of the time flirting with a cast member) would win the best wrangler award because the kids feared her. We made it to the cast and crew after-party where a couple of the kids admitted to voting for the other wrangler because she was "scary". Then we got to the Best Wrangler Award, and everyone started SHOUTING the other wrangler's name(I have it on video).
BUT THE AWARD WAS ALLLLL MINE LETS GOOOOOOOOO! After the whole experience, I was inspired to pursue a career working with kids. During the pandemic the shortage of substitute teachers grew. I had already lost my job (that paid SO WELL, 4 years later, and I'm still salty about it). My aunt Mary (who's actually my 3rd cousin biologically and my first cousin legally, but we call her aunt Mary) suggested I become a sub. In Alabama, you just need a high school diploma and a clean background check to get a sub license, so since I indeed had a diploma and have not yet been caught for my felonies ;), I qualified.
That was 3 years ago. It hasn't been the smoothest of rides, but it's the job I always come back to. I have a high school I'm familiar with where the teachers and students know me, and I've established great rapport with many of them. I've been called the fruit fly of subs though, because apparently a majority of the kids that I converse with the most are LGBTQIA+. There are also some kids who call me auntie or fren (no not friend, fren). I still don't know how to feel about a majority of them telling me they think I look 35-42, but what can I do?
It's not easy being a sub. There are hard days, difficult days, and excruciatingly painful days where I end up crying in my car at the end of the day, but I love my job. There are also good days and great days, and I wouldn't trade those for the world. I've had graduated seniors stop by and visit me when they visit their regular teachers, and I've had my heart tickled by students telling me they're glad they met me. I'm currently working on getting my degree to be a full time English teacher. After that, I plan to get my ESL certification, and I will be learning Spanish and Creole as we have more than 2 Hatian students in the county, and that's more than enough justification for me to learn it (also because one of my "crew" is Hatian, and I would love to be able to communicate with her and her sister in their native language). I believe missing auditions was what needed to happen for me to find my calling, and I have never looked back since. (Also Riley per my last story, I'm doing better in MicroEcon thanks to Google, but my English professor sucks so we'll see how things go).

This article will discuss some of the best Kawaii apps for Android and iPhone. "Kawaii" is a word that perfectly encapsulates "cuteness overflow."
This Japanese phrase refers to something adorable, and it is pretty popular among anime lovers around the world!
Hello, Kitty by Sanrio was one of the most influential figures in the rise of kawaii culture in Japan, and this cute culture continues to evolve globally today.
There are kawaii artbooks, emoticons, toys, and games. "Kawaii" is a term you'll hear from young Japanese girls.
It's approximately equivalent to 'cute,' but multiplied by ten or even a hundred.
It is impossible to describe Japanese female youth culture without it. From dogs to behaviors to boys, anything can be cute.
Furthermore, Characters and creatures that are kawaii are easy to spot.
They are hand-drawn and pastel-colored, and they have tiny bodies, massive heads with innocent features, and beady eyes that make you weak in the knees.
They're featured in toys, merchandise, and many Android apps because they're visually basic but adorable.
Here are some of the best kawaii Apps for Android that reflect the spirit of kawaii in Japanese culture.

1. Otter Ocean- Treasure Hunt

FiniFugu's newest Kawaii game is Otter Ocean. Instead of kittens, you'll be collecting adorable pocket-sized otters in this game, similar to Kleptocrats.
They'll delve deep into specific "dive locations" in search of antiquities, shells, food, and pals who may have perished in a hurricane.
Collect all otters, locate missing creatures, discover secret doors, unlock them using codes, feed, clean, and heal our favorite animals.
Download for AndroidiOS

2. Fril

Fril is a posh online flea market for female high school and college students. It is one of the best Kawaii apps for Android.
They had downloaded the software over 5,000 times in less than a month, and the app had sold over 10,000 goods.
Because the majority of the users are students, the average item price is roughly 2,000 to 3,000 yen (or $22 to $34).
Fril is an all-guys team and a graduate startup from Tokyo's Open Network Lab incubator.
Furthermore, Fril is unquestionably one of the most well-designed apps for ladies, thanks to over 100 interviews with their target customers.

3. Snapeee

Snapeee is a purikura app, which means it allows you to take photo booth-style photos with various embellishments.
In May 2011, the app drew users from Asia, including Hong Kong, Taiwan, and Macao. People in other regions of Asia also enjoy "kawaii" items, and the app has been downloaded over 800,000 times in less than a year, with half of them coming from outside of Asia.
Snapeee updates the app with new decorative stamps, brushes, and frames every day. Facebook, Twitter, Mixi, GREE, Ameba, Renren, and Sina Weibo are a few social media platforms where you can post decorated images. In addition, the app is compatible with Android devices.

4. EveryTown Sweet

Everytown Sweet is a cute match-3 puzzle game in which you have to match cute jello-like Kawaii animals on a game board.
It has a lot of charming animals and chibi characters and combines city-building with match-3 puzzle techniques.
Also, the evil Dr. Oh and his frightening boars have reduced the exquisite Everytown to ruins, and you'll have to reassemble it using medals gained through puzzles.
The puzzles, particularly the animated animal blocks, are the game's main draw. Various objectives are included in the puzzle stages, such as rescuing trapped animals, obtaining resources to erect dwellings, and locating power blocks.
Along with cute critters, the game includes 40 different characters, each with a unique ability that can aid you in solving problems. Install Everytown Sweet on your Android device RIGHT NOW if you enjoy Kawaii games.
Download for AndroidiOS

5. Decopic

Decopic is another popular purikura app and a competitor of the Snapeee mentioned above. It is a creation of Community Factory Inc.
Also recently revealed that it had surpassed the 12 million download threshold, which is a significant achievement for any smartphone app.
In September of last year, Yahoo Japan purchased the company for one billion yen (about $11 million). Yahoo Japan was keen to enter the mobile market and was able to secure Decopic's eight million members.
Because it is not created like a standard smartphone app, the app can be recognized by its distinctive user interface. It's more akin to the purikura machines that its intended audience is used to. It's compatible with Android devices.

6. Sailor Cats

Cats have consistently been recognized for their cuteness, but their cuteness reaches new heights in Sailor cats.
This click-to-collect game follows the exploits of a lone fisher cat as he sets out to explore numerous islands, increase his fleet, hunt for treasure chests, battle sea monsters, and discover new planets.
If you help him save furry creatures and expand his pirate fleet, his ambition of becoming a "pawrate" can come true. This is one of the best Kawaii apps for Android and iPhone.
Because of its basic one-tap controls, the game is exceedingly simple to play. You'll be upgrading your fisher cat's ship and acquiring numerous varieties of kittens.
I'm not talking about shells and trinkets when I say Sailor Cats has a lot of treasures. Also, You'll be gathering antiques, riches with costumes, and a plethora of toys.
It's a nice and peaceful game that you can download from the Google Play Store and Apple Play Store.
Download for AndroidiOS

7. Kawaii Kitchen

In Kawaii Kitchen, you may run your burger joint complete with cute chefs and customers. It's a fun memory game in which you must fill clients' orders by placing items in the correct order and serving them before the timer runs out.
You begin with a small kitchen and simple orders; however, burger orders will become more complex as you continue.
Also, You will need to ensure that you add the right ingredients in the proper order before giving them to your clients.
Furthermore, over a hundred different burgers to make and serve, and serving them to all clients will get increasingly difficult.
You'll be able to unlock incredible Kawaii chefs and enhance their skills as you grow your kitchen. In addition, the game is addictive and super cool.
Download for AndroidiOS

8. iQon

iQon is a Japanese fashion community that allows users to make magazine-style collages of fashion styles, similar to Polyvore.
iQon began as a web-only business, but it released an iPhone app in February of last year. The number of collages posted on the service has expanded by twenty, with over one million visitors as of March 2012.
The majority of the app's users are in their twenties, and they use it an average of nine times every day. It's compatible with Android devices.

9. Happy Hop: Kawaii Jump

Happy Hop is a cute vertical jumping game in which players must tap the screen on the right and left sides to make their lovely creature hop on moving platforms.
I adore the bright trails they leave behind when they hop from one perch to the next. You'll have to move them quickly from one platform to the next before it travels away, break, or vanish.
You'll find cool trunks and pinatas packed with lovely clothes for your characters on your way up. You may also come across other items to use to adorn your virtual home.
You'll also be unlocking and collecting hundreds of cuddly Kawaii characters in their adorable chibi avatars, ranging from cute unicorns to lovable bats.
Furthermore, Each character also gets a joyful house to decorate, which you can do with items found on your leaping trip.
Happy Hop is full of surprises, including monthly specials, a plethora of virtual pets, and unique prizes. This is one of the best Kawaii Apps for android and iPhone.
Download for AndroidiOS

10. Cute Pet Pululu

Imagine how adorable the gameplay would be if the game's title were as cute as it sounds. Cute Pet Pululu is a pet simulator game where you can acquire "pululus," or fun-loving creatures.
When the egg hatches, a charming pululu emerges. You'll have to feed her, play with her, and watch her as she grows.
There are seven pululus to gather, and each one has a distinct personality that makes every moment spent with them memorable and enjoyable.
The growth of a pululu is also influenced by how you care for her. Therefore the evolution process is fascinating. You'll discover how to evolve a pet as you hatch new ones.

11. Axolochi

Another adorable Android pet breeding game, Axolochi, allows you to breed virtual axolotls - yeah, those cute but weird alien-like amphibians.
However, in this game, they are pretty cute and not menacing. They come in various forms and sizes, and when they become more significant, they're the cutest.
Unfortunately, once they reach adulthood, you will have to release them. You may bathe, feed, and even train an Axolochi to gather exciting items from deep beneath the water after you catch one.
Once it has fully evolved, you can release it to acquire a new axolotl egg. You may dress up your pet axolotls with hats and other accessories to make them more attractive.
Axolochi is a pet breeding game that you must download if you enjoy pet breeding games. This is one of the best Kawaii apps for Android and iPhone.
Download for AndroidiOS

12. Nameco

The tweets and posts generated by this software nearly filled my entire Twitter stream at one point.
Nameco is a mushroom-growing and harvesting game that has been downloaded over 13,000,000 times and has a 4.5-star rating on the iTunes app store as of June 2012. Nameco's great popularity stems from its super-cute mushroom character.
There are over a hundred different tangible product items for the character, putting it in a lucrative market, as we saw with Rovio's Angry Birds.
It's even collaborated with Hello Kitty from Sanrio. This is one of the best Kawaii Apps for android.

13. Food Truck Pup

Food Truck Pup is a cute avatar of your favorite canine. Also, Food Truck Pup is a culinary simulator with adorable pixel graphics.
It mixes a cookery simulation with a business management simulation. To grow your crepe business, you'll need to work with dogs and other animals.
Also, you may then use the money you earn to buy clothes for your dogs and decorations for your food truck. This is one of the best Kawaii apps for android and iPhone.
Furthermore, Food Truck Pup tries to mimic everything a business owner would do to grow their company, but cutely.
You'll need to gather supplies, distribute leaflets to passers-by, make crepes, and hire charming dogs to work part-time. There's also a cooking and match-3 game mode in the game to keep you occupied for hours.
Download for AndroidiOS

14. Showa Candy Shop

Showa Candy Shop depicts the life of a grandmother who is faced with a challenging responsibility. She wants to turn an abandoned old candy store into a place where all youngsters desire to go.
Assist Grandma in stocking her shop with vintage Japanese toys and confections. Your goal is to make money by attracting customers to your business and unlocking various vintage collectibles.
Furthermore, You'll receive letters that progressively reveal a heartfelt story about Grandma as you progress. Kids will spend their allowance on candy and toys.
The money can then enhance shops and unlock more enjoyable things. The game's characters, mainly the adorable granny and the children, are endearing. Also, It's one of the best visually stunning Kawaii games apps for Android and iPhone.
Download for AndroidiOS

15. Furistas Cat Cafe

Furistas Cat Cafe is undoubtedly one of the most adorable Android and iPhone games. To appreciate how pretty this game is, you must play it.
Consider a place teeming with cute, cuddly felines. Your fantasy will come true at Furistas. You can adopt a large number of cats to keep in your cafe. Each cat has a fascinating backstory as well as a distinct personality.
To boost happiness in the café, you'll have to match a cat with a customer based on their matching personalities as customers arrive to adopt a cat.
The more kittens you unlock, the happy your clients and kitties are. There are other obligations in addition to adopting cats, such as arranging your café to make it pleasant for your cats and appealing to clients.
Clean your cafe, add refreshments, paint the floor and walls, create themed interiors to attract clients, etc.
The developers of Furistas Cat Cafe have done an excellent job of delivering their message with this game, which advocates animal adoption. This is one of the best Kawaii apps for Android and iPhone.
Download for AndroidiOS

16. FeeDog Raising Puppies

If you think cats are cute, you haven't played FeeDog yet. Puppies are just as cute as cats, and if you like dogs, you'll enjoy playing this game.
These hungry dogs are on a mission, and you are the only one who can help them. An evil ghost wants your puppies to eat all kinds of dangerous stuff so he can enjoy a long life.
Tap to prevent your dog from ingesting a harmful item as it is thrown at him. The ghost will strike those who are flung aside.
Carry on like this until the ghost's negative energy has been depleted. Furthermore, You will receive a star coin if you win, which you can use to purchase more pets.
Each dog has a guardian angel who once protected him. Aside from the fascinating mini-game, there's also a large kennel to maintain, with each puppy living happily under your watchful eye.
You may raise and feed puppies and level up a dog to make him stronger. Also, the game is adorable and can be downloaded for free from the Google Play Store and Apple store.
Download for Android

Part 1
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[The New Year’s Maze]
For no reason in particular, I went left, and— the moment I walked through the door— a small woman dressed as the Rat rushed towards me with a long, wooden staff. She had a pointed nose strapped around her face, a long tail attached to her backside, and big, floppy rat-foot slippers on her feet.
I barely had time to register that the room was decorated like a rundown industrial kitchen before being forced to dive out of the way. I’m not endorsing drug usage by saying the cocaine saved my life— I could— but I’m not… The woman was at least a full two feet shorter than myself, but she was faster and used her tail as a whip. When I dove out of her way for a second time, she turned, and the weighted tail made contact with my side, knocking me onto the tiled flooring. Though I felt only numbness at the time, I would later find a long, dark bruise across my ribs and part of my back; it hurts every time I inhale.
The only consolation is that it pushed me closer to the buzzer. The center pillar stood between four to five feet tall and— like the walls— each side was identical; I threw myself at the red buzzer on top, and a cheerful tune played while the dim room brightened significantly. I turned to see the Rat woman was now standing at attention, her weapon at her side.
Every wall was identical from every angle down except for the doors. One wall had only one door while the opposite wall had two. I felt rushed to make a decision because I didn’t know how my soul was fairing on the Other Side; was the Rat stopped over there too? Was it an actual Rat or some kind of mutated monster?
As these questions swirled around my brain, the world shifted, and I was suddenly inside a real kitchen. I had willed the switch to happen; it seems that exercising my ability paid off. I turned a quick circle as my eyes sought the Rat, and— for half a second— I felt a great wave of relief to see it was only a rodent no bigger than my boot… But its red, beady eyes tracked my every move while a thick, white foam dripped from its mouth. The animals were sentient and rabid…
Suddenly the costumed badasses didn’t seem so impossible… No matter how fast humans are, animals are much faster— and stronger; our only advantage over wildlife has always been intelligence, and now I didn’t even have that.
I returned to the problem of where to go next; assuming I entered through the single door, I focused my attention on the remaining two. Another right or left choice…
I could have played the What If game all day had I not been interrupted by the activity occurring outside of the Maze… My attention was first drawn to the giant monitors above; every other screen alternated between me and a countdown clock with 20 seconds remaining. I wasn’t sure what would happen when it reached zero— nor was I eager to learn— but I also couldn’t tear my gaze away as some of the monitors changed to shots of the audience.
Before, the stands were full of unsavory characters— to say the least— but now it was filled with corpses… There were tens— if not hundreds— of thousands, and they were all pasty pale shades of green and gray with missing parts and rotting flesh… My eyes happen to fall on one without a head… It sat in the bleachers with all the rest— its arms raised and fell as if cheering— but everything above its neck was simply gone…
There was also something wrong about the night around us… It wasn’t a normal kind of darkness; it felt like Nothing— like the world outside was gone, and we were the last life forms left in all of existence. There was a certainty that if I took one step outside of the stadium, it would be colder than a world without a sun…
Left or Right… I absorbed these new sights in only 5 seconds; as the countdown reached 15, the soft ticking rose in volume… Left or Right… At 10 seconds, each progressive tick grew louder until I couldn’t stand the pressure and bolted through the door on the left.
It automatically closed behind me, and a small, brown ball of mangy fluff hurled itself towards my head before I could take in the first thing about my new surroundings. Even the wondrous coca plant couldn’t save me from such speed… What did save me, however, were the authentic gladiator skills that allowed me to gracefully tuck and roll out of the way. My previous contract was still in effect! I hadn’t noticed it before— presumably because the battle had already ended— but it was impossible to mistake now.
I suddenly knew how to hold the sword and shield properly— surprise, surprise, my grips had been all wrong… My shield and armor were much heavier, and my sword was razor sharp. I also knew how to stand and move based on my enemy’s body language… Not that the latter helped a ton against a rabid Rabbit, but I knew it nonetheless.
I turned as the demonic little furball flew past; the moment it touched the ground, it launched itself back at me, but I was ready for it. There was a dull yet satisfying clunk as I batted it away with my shield, and it hit a nearby tree; only then did I realize I was standing in a gloomy, overgrown forest…
With a quick glance over my shoulder, I saw the buzzer just six feet behind me, but the Rabbit was already shaking off the effects of its collision and preparing for the next attack. I took two steps back to shorten the distance and couched low, bracing for the next assault. The impact sent waves of painful vibrations through my arm, but I deflected the animal up and over my shoulder— allowing me to turn and hit the buzzer. Finally, the little bunny was still, and I had my first good look at it.
Its eyes were red and intelligent; it glared at me with undeniable resentment and white foam dripped from its mouth just as it had with the Rat. Now confident it would no longer attack, I took a few steps closer to see tiny, needle-like claws protruding from its little feet. The rabies worried me the most; under normal circumstances a rabbit scratch would hardly be noticeable, but now it could be deadly.
I glanced at the monitors above, but the countdown clock hadn’t started yet. Most of the screens showed instant replays of my fight with the Rabbit or shots of the cheering audience, but I didn’t expect those to last long. The wall across from me had one door in its center, so I expected the wall behind me to have two… But it also featured a single door placed in the middle— as did the other two walls… I had to choose between four doors and had no clue which one I entered. If I chose the Rat room, would I have to face it again?!
My heart was threatening to burst again; taking several deep breaths, I turned to the wall I was originally facing and tried to replay my steps since the first attack. With my back to what I hoped was my starting point, I walked straight across and turned the knob only to be electrocuted. My jaw clenched, I went completely rigid, and I was only able to release the knob when gravity wrenched my hand free with my falling body.
The crowd was wild with cheers and laughter— and I swear the Rabbit was smiling— while I laid there waiting for the spasms to pass and to regain my composure. When I was able to pull myself into a sitting position, I rested with my back against the wall of the electrified door and considered the remaining three.
My best guess at why the door would be electrified was that it must be the one I entered; it made sense that I wouldn’t be allowed to backtrack, or what would stop people from going in an infinite circle. Without knowing the Maze’s shape or order of the animals, going in a straight line was the only strategy that seemed to make sense; surely that had to be the key to only facing five opponents…
But then I worried that Maggs was counting on people to utilize that strategy, so they could place the most difficult enemies in their path. I would certainly rather face a larger number of small animals to avoid the Dragon or Ox…
Again, I became lost in the endless sea of What Ifs until the countdown clock began ticking loudly and forced me back into reality. 15… 14… 13… I leapt back onto my feet and sprinted to the opposite door, stopping just before my hand touched the knob. 10… 9… 8… Then, with one more steadying breath, I threw myself into the next room.
I was now in a junkyard… Trash was strewn about in great piles with various appliances lining the walls; again, I was both inside and outside which can be strangely disorienting. Even the smell was authentic. Choking back the urge to gag, I scanned the area for my opponent, and— this time— I heard it before I saw it…
A low, throaty growl sounded to my right, and— in the same instant— I turned to be knocked down by a heavy, black mass that pinned me to the ground. I was barely able to get my shield between our bodies before the impact, and it was now the only thing preventing a more than 200-pound Dog from tearing out my throat. It looked like a mix between a Rottweiler and Great Dane— that’s how massive it was. White foam dripped onto my chin and neck while my arm felt like it might snap under the enormous weight… There was only one option available to me…
It was more of a reflex than a conscious decision, but my grip tightened around the handle of my sword, and I plunged it into the beast’s side. Its scream was nothing like the cry of a dog but the roar of a wounded monster, and thick, hot blood poured over my hand and down my arm.
As it slumped forward, I rolled out from under its weight and removed my sword… The blood covering— well, everything— was black as tar and had the same consistency… It was also burning my skin. I looked for anything to wipe it off and discovered a small pile of dirty rags amongst the garbage. Knowing the countdown clock could start any moment, I set my sword and shield aside to work faster…
I’m not sure if the red, itchy rash that spread across my arm was from the blood or whatever was on that disgusting rag, but as I lifted my sword from the ground, I heard movement behind me and turned just in time to dive away from the lunging Dog. It had healed because I forgot to hit the buzzer… It was such a stupid mistake… I didn’t even have time to pick up my shield…
It didn’t mindlessly continue to charge as the others had; it made sure to put itself between me and the buzzer, and slowly backed me towards the corner. I probably could have gotten it with my sword if I let it latch onto my arm, but how would I finish the game if my left arm was crushed? I stopped retreating and swung my blade in a low, sweeping strike, but the beast flattened its belly to the ground and lunged at my ankle— the same one I had sprained when running from Maggs… Then, with a quick yank, I was lying flat on my back.
My tall leather boots stopped the fangs from piercing my skin, but my bone was being crushed, and the pain was out of this world— even with my, uh, special medicine… The sound of my agonized scream was completely drowned out by the roar of the cheering crowd; they were going wild while I struggled to see through the black spots dotting my vision.
The gladiator skill saved me once again as I brought down my free heel atop its nose. An extra shock of pain shot through me as well, but I didn’t let it slow me down. I pulled myself to an upright position and pointed my sword at the Dog just as it lunged for another attack; had I been even a half-second slower, it would have been my throat torn open instead of his… Refusing to make the same mistake twice, I leapt to my feet— arm already reaching for the buzzer… And then I slammed into the ground because my ankle gave out…
Didn’t matter. That buzzer was gettin’ pressed. The end.
I crawled to that bitch, used the pillar to pull myself up, and slapped the big red button; then I collapsed back onto the ground as the annoyingly cheerful tune played again. It was adding insult to injury is what it was; don’t think for a second it wasn’t chosen deliberately...
I looked around to see that I was once again faced with choosing between four identical doors… And I was about 90% certain that I knew which one I entered… What I faced next might have been a matter of pure luck, but— at the very least— I didn’t want to get shocked again…
Then I wondered— would I have been shocked in the Real World as well? Or would I simply have faced a locked door? Obviously, I didn’t want my soul to be electrocuted, but— if it was gonna happen anyway— I’d rather not feel it.
The shift worked the same as it had before— all I had to do was think about it, and— suddenly I was back! The Dog was actually just a big man with a weighted chain, which made me think of my ankle. The pain was a mere fraction compared to what it had been before… I also hadn’t realized how stale the air on the Other Side was until returning, but the difference was unmistakable.
Unfortunately, the downside was that I lost my bearings… It seems my sense of directional awareness was also largely influenced by the gladiator skills… Now that it was gone, I just couldn’t be sure where I entered. Not wanting to waste too much time, I made my best guess at which door to go through next, but the knob wouldn’t turn beneath my hand… It was locked— and likely electrocuting my soul on the Other Side…
Still assuming this meant it led to the previous room, I moved to the opposite door and felt the knob turn easily beneath my hand— but I stopped short of opening it; I didn’t want to face my next opponent until shifting back… And— with that simple thought— there I was… The pain in my ankle returned to agonizing levels, and the countdown began…
The moment I cracked the door open, I was hit with an intense heat wave and instantly realized my mistake… It was the Dragon’s den! I was inside a massive cave filled with treasure… A wall of fire appeared before me, cutting off my retreat as I tried to duck behind a large boulder. Changing direction, I only just made it past the second blast and into a crevice between two other boulders. The flames shot by me— singeing the hair from my exposed skin but otherwise leaving me unharmed.
There was just enough of a gap at the top of my nook to see directly above me, and the long, blue Dragon was hovering directly overhead, waiting for my reappearance. Its scales glimmered even in the darkness, and its tiny T-Rex arms would have been precious in any other setting, but I couldn’t think of it that way. No matter how breathtakingly majestic it was to see an actual Dragon in real life— it was still trying to kill me...
But there was a strange sound mixed in with the powerful flapping of its giant wings… It was the metallic clanking of a chain; one end was attached to the creature’s leg while the other was anchored to the center pillar… It seems even demons aren’t capable of controlling a Dragon, which— now that I’ve seen one up close and personal— doesn’t surprise me one bit.
I was effectively trapped in my crevice as fire rained down all around me. I thought of all the movies where someone jumps through a wall of flames, and how completely impossible it was in reality. The closest flame was just a few feet away from my hiding spot, and it was already too much to bear; the idea of getting closer— let alone jumping through it— there was just no way…
Unfortunately I couldn’t stay in my hole forever— mostly because it ceased to exist when one of my boulders exploded into rubble after a direct hit. With nothing left to shield me from the Dragon’s rampage, I scrambled to my feet and leapt out of the way just as another burst of flame engulfed my former shelter.
Thankfully, this was also about the time I realized the Dragon was pausing after every second attack… It was only for a few seconds, but it felt like a cooldown period— as if it needed to recharge or gather more— uh… You know— whatever it is that turns their spit into Molotov cocktails...
Every move was pure instinct, but I used the trail of new rubble to make my way closer to the buzzer. So much sweat was pouring into my eyes that I constantly had to wipe it away, and my ankle still screamed even through the extra adrenaline; a strong will to survive was literally the only thing allowing me to remain upright.
When I made it to the last piece of debris, I was roughly four feet away from the buzzer and just waiting for the Dragon’s next break… But then I noticed the way its giant chain was attached to the center pillar… Someone had wrapped it around the base 3 or 4 times and simply stuck a metal pin through it… That was it… Sure it seemed to be one of those big railroad ties, but— I mean— this was a vicious Dragon! How was there no lock?!
That made me wonder… What would happen if it got free? None of the other animals had been chained, so clearly this one needed to be for a reason… The bit of boulder I was currently using for cover had broken away into a piece barely larger than my body; I wouldn’t make it through another round of attack, so there was no time to consider all the pros and cons.
My chances had been slim to none before the Dog tried to amputate my foot, and the rest of my limbs felt like jello. I truly didn’t expect to live much longer, and— if I was going to die— I wanted to wreck that stupid Maze and hopefully take Maggs with me. Everyone else— the audience and staff— were already dead anyway…
When the timing was right, I launched myself at the bottom of the pillar, ignoring the buzzer completely lest it prevent the Dragon from escaping once the chain was loose. I didn’t know how it had prevented the other animals from moving, but they hadn’t taken a single step after it was pressed, so I had to assume some kind of magic was involved.
Once my hands were on the chain, I realized a bolt was screwed onto the end of the pin to prevent it from falling out; I had to unscrew it… Despite the setup being relatively new, the chain was old— as if the creature had been pinned there for years and the Maze built around it… At first I didn’t think I would be able to loosen it, but chipping away the biggest chunks of rust made all the difference…
Unfortunately, I wasn’t fast enough. Out of time, I was forced to dive behind the last piece of rubble near the buzzer… If I didn’t end it on the Dragon’s next recharge… I was toast— literally…
I went right back to work once its last attack blew apart my final means of defense. The exploding boulder sprayed me with shrapnel that stuck into my exposed flesh— and burned like a mother— but that didn’t matter. A few more turns of the bolt, and the pin was ready… All I had to do was pull it out and unwind the chain… Except I was already out of time… The beast was inhaling deeply for its next attack, and I had nowhere to go… I waited until the very last second; my only hope was to dodge the fireball entirely, but even a gladiator isn’t that fast…
When the buzzer and its pillar were completely engulfed in flame, I received several burns— luckily most of them were only first degree, but I also have four second degree burns that I’ll be dealing with for some time yet… The most important thing, however, was the beautiful sound I heard immediately after that attack— the chain was unraveling!
While I struggled to put out my flaming costume, there was nothing left to protect me, and I knew the next attack wouldn’t miss… Only the Dragon had also noticed its loose chain, and that interested it far more than myself. It seemed to instantly understand its freedom, and the only thing it wanted to do was get out of that room. It flew straight up and out of the Maze— burning everything in sight along the way!
The noise was chaotic and deafening; the crowd was screaming in terror… Maybe it’s possible to die twice after all, hell, what do I know? The Dragon roared as it burned everything in sight, and— one by one— the giant monitors went black before falling to the ground. The last ones showed images of fleeing fans as they were consumed by a fireball. The Maze walls were burning all around me, and— for a moment— I feared I would be trapped inside… But then the world shifted again…
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[The Escape]
It wasn’t like the other shifts; not only was it involuntary— well… How do I explain it? Imagine walking from your hallway into the bedroom; you step over the threshold, and there you are… That’s what it felt like when I controlled the shifts… Before I learned to control them, it felt like being pushed over the threshold… But this was more like waking up from a dream. It was an instant jerk back into reality as if the Other Side wasn’t even real.
Back in my own reality, the audience wasn't holding up much better than their dead counterparts. It appeared as if the man playing the Dragon had gotten carried away with his flamethrower; there was no sign of him anywhere, and the hedge walls were burning fast. There was only one small section not engulfed in flames, and I ran for it with every ounce of energy remaining to me. The pain in my ankle was less but still excruciating, and I was beyond exhausted.
It’s still just a theory, but I’m fairly certain that using my ability to remain on the Other Side came at a great cost to my stamina. The extra boost I was getting from the go-go powder was gone, and I had precious little time to cover a big gap. When I finally got close, my instincts screamed for me to stop— to run away from the heat— but that wasn’t an option…
After diving through the flaming circle of death, the hair beneath my helmet was all I had left. I’ve since had to shave it… That’s all I could do, but— hey— it’s just hair; it grows back… Souls do not… That’s all I really want… Just my soul…
But anyway, the rest of the Maze was just as deadly. I couldn’t make out what the next room used to be, but I almost collided with a screaming man who was on fire. A long train of flaming fabric followed him wherever he went— like it was chasing him; I think it was the Snake costume, but there’s no telling. By now, my throat was raw from all of the smoke; at that moment, I would have let Maggs keep my damn soul just for a drink of water…
While trying to determine which way to go next, the flaming Snake man ran straight through a blazing hedge wall, and a four-foot wide section collapsed behind him! The debris left behind was short enough to leap over— not without unbearable pain to my wounded ankle, but it was far better than the alternative.
When I approached the opening, my incentive to make the jump increased tenfold at the sight of the bleachers and the panicked crowd still scrambling to get away from the burning Maze; it was my way out! The escape was every bit as painful as expected, but the adrenaline kept me going. I made it all the way to the bleachers and tried to lose myself in the evacuating crowd, but everything just went black. One second I was fleeing… The next, I was waking up in total darkness— tied to a chair!
Pete had witnessed my escape and took upon himself to “help” me. He felt I would have only run away if he approached me directly— which was solid logic— but I still didn’t appreciate it. Basically, he was sick of taking abuse from Maggs; she hadn’t at all been the silent partner that she promised. It was one thing to run a secret, hidden Maze behind his own, but everything since Halloween had been a downward spiral, and now he’s nothing more than a scared little boy.
Since I want my soul back, and he wants his freedom, it seemed like a great deal— if it was genuine… But how am I supposed to know if he’s telling the truth?
I’ll give him one thing— if it is just a trap, he’s a damn good actor… Though, I suppose he established that when he hired me... I sometimes forget how completely he had me fooled in the beginning… But he also made some valid points; if he wanted to kill me, why not take me to Maggs right then and there? Why take me all the way to some storage facility in the middle of a random dark highway if he was just going to let me go after we spoke? Or he could have killed me himself…
I didn’t want to make any rash decisions while I was burnt and bleeding. I only wanted a hospital. In the end, I agreed to contact him with a new time and place to meet after I’d had some time to recover. I’m not sure if I really will or not, but it got me out of the situation faster. I guess that’s another reason I’m writing this— not just to spread the word to more people who will think it’s fiction, but to help myself see things more clearly…
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[Conclusion]
I’ll be on crutches for a few weeks, so I definitely won’t be making any moves before then. I want to prevent Maggs from collecting more souls almost as badly as I want my own soul back, but I won’t accomplish either of those things if I don’t let myself heal.
Now that all the adrenaline is gone, the burns are actually far more painful than my leg, and— I know it sounds vain— but I’m not eager to go out while I look like part of The Coneheads cast. Sometimes it feels like the smartest thing I could do would be to change my name and disappear— forget all about Maggs, Pete, and the Maze— and live what life I have to the fullest… Unfortunately, I’m just not that kind of girl, so— like it or not— I’m in this for the long haul…
Pete did urge me to contact him sooner rather than later… The Valentines Maze is already under construction, and it’s supposed to be the worst one yet. The Underground setup was wildly successful, so nothing short of force will stop Maggs now. She didn’t get as many Limbo souls as she would have liked, but she made a killing off of the new humans… No pun intended…
So, yea… I guess that’s it for this round; we’ve finally reached the end! For now, anyway…

I have been looking forward to this one in my Super Sentai journey. There is an apocryphal story that suggests the tone of the series was damaging to the overall franchise in the wake of terrorist attacks, nearly ending the show. Wherever that truth lies, the ratings were abysmal, while the toy sales were overwhelmingly good. I was determined to like the show out of spite for its historical reputation, not knowing what to actually expect.As always, I would love to hear your thought on the show. Spoilers for the entire series are below.
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Overview:

• The show started off very strong to my 2023 eyes. It begins with Goro having to launch a rescue of the other four rangers who have just been recruited to the team and shot down on their way to the base. This establishes Goro as a bit of a badass while also showing the others to be incredibly resourceful. It is a gorgeously filmed, frantic chase and fight through a wooded area and waterfall that I have not seen used in Sentai before.The first handful of episodes continue this energy. Baranoia is a legitimate threat to the innocent civilians of Japan, destroying property and taking lives indiscriminately. When the tone of the show shifts, it shifts hard, quickly, and without any warning. I have heard of tonal whiplash before, but never have experienced it to the extent that Ohranger suffers. Episode 9 starts off with the girls arguing over who gets to wear the slinky red dress and only devolves from there. It was like running towards a cliff at full speed, then finding yourself stopped suddenly within a jello mold.
• Ohranger has amazing actors, suits, villains, giant robots, music, and action—some of the best in all of Sentai. And yet it somehow winds up as less than the sum of its parts.
• The importance of love is a central theme of Ohranger. The strongest episodes revolve around what a person is willing to do to protect the love that they feel, and oftentimes love itself is what the Baranoia Empire is attacking. Their plots involve turning people against each other and breaking up families (one very unfortunate family in particular). In one of the last episodes before the tonal shift, Bacchus Wrath brutally, graphically murders two of his subordinates for the crimes of love, claiming that there is no room for such things among the machines.This proves to be his undoing. After his defeat, Bacchus Wrath is reduced to a head on some distant asteroid, clinging to life. He and his wife sacrifice their power and life force to bring their son Buldont back from destruction. Wrath is completely destroyed, Hysteria is drained of color (a very cool effect), and Buldont is granted a new, adult form. Buldont is also granted a wife in the form of Multiwa, Hysteria’s niece.It is important to note that it is only when Baranoia embraces love that they succeed. The new Emperor and Princess are incredibly schmoopy during their entire reign, like two teenagers who think they invented sex. “Bulpie” and “Mulpie” legitimately win against the Ohrangers and succeed in their conquest of Earth. They have a child, with the Dowager Empress Hysteria watching over them with love. They have six months of rule before their defeat, and Hysteria sacrifices herself to save the innocent Buldont Jr.I was rooting for Buldont during the Bomber the Great arc. It is fair to say that I was rooting for him a little bit during the final episodes as well. This kid was motivated by the love for his wife, his son, his mother and even his father who was undeserving of it. It deserves to be mentioned that Buldont literally had to grow up too fast after the death of his father.Gods. I wish this was a better show.

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Heroes:

• Goro (Red)
  • I had read at one point that the Ohrangers were originally supposed to match the personalities of the Gorengers. That is very much not the case, though if anyone comes close it is Goro. He is cool and confident, willing to jump into danger at a moment’s notice and willing to make the tough decisions. He is a leader among reds and every time he gives a command, I believe that someone is going to listen to him.
• Shoukei (Green)
  • It took way to long for Shoukei, the boxer, to pilot Red Puncher. The whole team would have been better off had Shoukei just been the dedicated pilot to begin with instead of having to train Goro.
• Yuji (Blue)
  • One of the few focus episodes to stand out to me was Yuji’s powerless episode with the doctor and his son. It serves as a great parallel to Buldont’s relationship with his own father and I kind of wish that it had been drawn out a bit more with the two characters recurring in a few more episodes.
• Juri (Yellow)
  • Juri should have been my favorite character. Even the more ridiculous episodes would not be enough to deter me. Unfortunately, she falls victim to the tonal shift and becomes a vapid, girly character that does not match the competent pilot from the first episodes. Her funny stuff is certainly funny, and Ayumi Aso does an amazing job with the material she was given. It looks like Ohranger and it’s associated films are the only acting work that she did and it is kind of a shame. She handled both tones the best and really leaned into the comedy better than the other actors.
• Momo (Pink)
  • Momo breaks from (what may be western only) regular connotations of pink equaling girly by being the less girly of the two female characters. Headstrong and loyal, Momo fights to protect those she loves.
  • There is a weird episode where her childhood friend is one of many victims trapped in an endless nightmare by a Baranoia castoff. I appreciate that they took the time to explain why Bara Nightmare was on Earth long before the invasion. It is either an unrealistic oversight, or an attempt at speaking to the resilience of children (girls especially) when they are freed from their years of endless torture and are perfectly fine without any lasting emotional damage. Obviously, it is the first option, but I can’t help but wonder what happens after when they realize that everyone they knew and loved is suddenly much older.
• Riki (Black)
  • I found it difficult to connect with any of the rangers this time around. I am declaring Riki my favorite based solely on his civilian costume, his energy, and the fact that he pulls off the crossdressing episode better than the other five.
• Miura
  • The Ohrangers mentor is played by Hiroshi Miyauchi, Mr. Tokusatsu himself. Miyauchi played members of the first two Sentai teams and by that point had already been well established in the genre having had the lead role in Kamen Rider V3 a couple of years before that. His inclusion here was part of a half-hearted attempt at honoring the legacy of Sentai for its 20th anniversary.He was used well, though sparingly. In particular his early episode trying to save his niece was compelling and more than I expected from a Mentor character based on my previous Sentai viewings. I that point I did not know who he was and I am considering going back to watch the episode again with context in mind.
  • Due to his role as mentor, he spends most of the show away from the action. Most of his footage is at the base, directing the rangers and reacting to events. Not much different from the first quarter of Gorenger.
• Gunmajin
  • Gunmajin reminds me of a paladin version of Ninjaman, right down to the latter’s genie lamp. He is powerful and noble, but just stupid enough to cause as many problems as he solves. He also comes equipped (in his first appearance) with the most annoying child character that I have yet to see in Sentai.
  • He grants wishes through brute force rather than magical powers, usually to the dismay of the Ohrangers. There is an episode where he takes on the role of helicopter boyfriend to Momo after misunderstanding her wish, and it is quite hilarious to see him physically maneuver her arms in the henshin sequence. It’s a good thing they never stop to eat because he would probably insist on chewing everything for her. Talk about a monkey’s paw!

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Villains:

• So much of what I wanted to say about the Baranoia villains went into the overview. More than the other shows that I have seen, these villains fit so well into the overall themes that the show is trying to tell. As with many other aspects, the villains definitely suffer from the tonal shift. We go from Baccus Wrath just straight up bombing the city to convoluted plots of “if we make babies annoying, humans will stop having babies and we win in the long run,” and “if everyone wants to fuck a refrigerator, they won’t fuck each other and make new humans!”I can only imagine what it would be like to be afraid of Baccus Wrath up util the moment he is defeated.
• I love the size difference of the Baranoia empire villains. Baccus Wrath and Hysteria are clearly much taller than their suit actors. My favorite is when the suit actor for Acha is operating the Kocha puppet.
• Bara Micron, the giant centipede monster, is one of the few proper kaiju in Sentai. I appreciate that.

​
Gripes:

• ARRRRRRRRRRRRGH!!!!
• One of my favorite things about this project, having come from Power Rangers, is seeing the little things that that show took from Super Sentai. Sometimes it takes a season or two, but the influence is obvious. One such thing is Mr. Henna. Mr. Henna is this weird scientific “genius” who really wants to take apart and study a Baranoia construct. He is annoying, and for me is the personification of the tonal shift. For some reason Power Rangers loved this dude and leaned hard into him.
• There is on specific civilian family that regularly finds themselves at the center of a Baranoia plot. They have a very straightforward arc throughout the series that ends with their house completely destroyed. Sometimes it is a completely different family, which made it harder for me to recognize these guys every time they would show up. I would have preferred the show either use the one family exclusively or just have a different one every time.

​
Favorite Bits:

• Of the movies I’ve seen, Ohranger had the best so far. It really did feel like more than a longer episode of the show.
• This time around, the familiar musical cue comes from James Bond.
• There is an episode where the first two robos get their butts absolutely kicked and have to go through a whole training montage. This makes no sense, but I love it.
• The Baranoia palace actually looks a bit like Bacchus Wrath.
• Ohranger has some of the most impressive action so far and some great detail within the action. They are the first team so far that I have seen summon their mechs before the monster is defeated small, already prepared for the next stage of the fight. The suit and out of suit stuff (especially in the beginning) is good too. The choreography is very direct, very straightforward and militaristic in the movements. I consistently find myself impressed at how well each Sentai does at having its own identity through the fight choreography.
• The beginning and ending of Ohranger are stellar and if this show had a middle that matched, it would easily be spoken of in the same breath as all the other GOAT Sentai.

Hello there! I'm Ahmed Best. You may remember me from TV shows like The Mandalorian, or the world-famous game show, Jedi Temple Challenge. Or maybe you saw me as Jar Jar Binks in "The Memory Hole Horror." What a scary film that was! But I'm not here to talk to you about that today.
No, I'm here to tell you about the value of hand-woven, custom embroidered robes, made to order by the hard working and very much still alive Padawans at the Jedi Academy on Coruscant. Each hand-woven, custom embroidered robe is unique, designed by a master overseer and then embroidered with love, sweat, and a surprising amount of blood, by a small child who we promise will one day be a powerful force user. We promise. These are not slaves, folks. Weesa promise!
And just look at the incredible detail on this hemline! No adult could sew runes this fine. It takes the precision that only a tiny, sprocket-poking finger can achieve. With the Force, of course. Ha ha. Get it? Because we force them - nevermind. The point is, these genuine Jedi robes can be yours for the low, low price of five payments of 199 Galactic Credits and 99 whatever the fuck Galactic Credit cents are called. Does anyone know? Or is this just a whole-ass credit society? That's okay. Answering financial questions is for losers and suckers. Just ignore it and spend! And for 299.99, you could get authentic Jedi Counselor Robes! They're the same as Jedi Robes, but come with a certificate of authenticity, signed by the team of 17-24 children to made them, depending on how many survived.
Call now!
----
Gang, I don't know if you saw this ad at the top of the official SWGoH kit reveal for Kelleran Beq or if the Peyote is finally kicking in, but like an educational video on how submarines are assembled, it was riveting.
And it made me think... What if CG did add an Ahmed Best character to the game? It wouldn't be Kelleran Beq, right? I mean, that would be insane, because he has like... 4 minutes of screen time in the Mandalorian whereas Ahmed Best's vocal talents as Jar Jar Binks ruin easily half of the prequels. But I guess if you want to really, and I mean REALLY expand the Star Wars universe, Beq also hosted 10 episodes of a game show just 3 years ago in this very galaxy. So fine, let's go with that. Best deserves, well, better than he got, anyway. Plus this kind of fan service can only mean that we'll get Andy Serkis soon, right? RIGHT??? Or like, literally anyone from Andor? But I digress...

Characteristics: Attacker, Galactic Republic, Jedi, Leader

Ahh yes. Just what we all felt was missing in this game. A GR Jedi. I'm so glad we're filling that specific roster hole.

BASIC: Saber Stability
Final Text: Deal Physical Damage to target enemy and grant Foresight to a random ally who doesn't already have it. If it is Kelleran Beq's turn, attack again.

Author's note: I have added spaces after the colons because THAT'S HOW FUCKING ENGLISH WORKS.
So Beq's basic is a foresight handout machine. That's very useful, and will also be annoying as fuck, depending on which side of the GAC you're on. Since he's giving it to allies, I guess that means we're gonna want to kill him early, to stop the foresight spam.

SPECIAL 1: Lightsaber Training - CD 3
Final Text: Deal Physical damage to target enemy. All allies gain Offense Up for 2 turns. Call all Galactic Republic Jedi allies to assist. If there are no allied Galactic Legends, allies recover Health and Protection equal to 50% of the damage dealt until the end of the turn. Otherwise they recover Health and Protection equal to 5% of the damage dealt until the end of the turn.

Author's note: These already had spaces after the colons. That's good, but also means the earlier formatting errors were the result of shitty proofreading rather than excusable ignorance.
A GR Jedi mass assist is nasty. Like, very, very nasty. Lots of GR units have really strong basics. Plo dispels buffs, Aayla stuns, JKA applies healing immunity, GMY gains foresight and applies debuffs, and I'm Gonna Die has like a 12% chance to maybe stun a droid, I think? That's... no, it's not even something. That's nothing. But the other guys, they're good!

SPECIAL 2: Jedi Bravery - Zeta - CD 2 - Unlock Tier 7
Final Text: Dispel all debuffs on all allies. Deal Physical damage to target enemy and deal an additional 20% of Kelleran Beq's Max Protection to the target enemy as True damage.

Author's note: "Special 2:" had a space after it, but "Final Text:" didn't. CG is clearly just fucking with me now.
I'm loving how short the text of these abilities is! Cleanse allies and hurt and enemy! Hooray! Actually a mass cleanse is very useful. And it's on a short cooldown.

Leader: By The Will Of The Council - Omicron - Unlock Tier 4

I added the space after the colon. God help me.

**Final Text:**Galactic Republic Jedi allies have 50% Defense, 40% Tenacity, and 30 Speed.
At the start of battle, all other Galactic Republic Jedi allies gain stacks of Padawan Lessons equal to the number of stacks on Kelleran Beq for the rest of battle.
All Jedi allies gain Foresight for 2 turns at the start of each encounter.
While in Territory Wars and there are no Galactic Legends and all allies are Galactic Republic Jedi: At the start of battle allies gain additional 5% Offense for each stack of Padawan Lessons on them, doubled while they have Foresight.
Whenever an ally with Protection uses an ability on their turn, call a random other ally to assist.The first time each ally loses all Protection, they recover 50% Turn Meter, gain 150% Bonus Protection for 3 turns, and gain 10% Critical Chance, Critical Damage, and Offense plus an additional +2% for each stack of Padawan Lessons on them.
While Kelleran Beq is active, allies have +500% Defense. While another ally has Protection, Kelleran can't be defeated.

Remember that time I said I loved abilities with short, simple, and concise wording? Ahh, those were the days, weren't they? I was young, she was beautiful, and the future felt full of possibilities... But now here we are: I've gained 50 pounds, she left me and took the truck, and all we have to look forward to is an impending global climate catastrophe we're sleepwalking into while the world's governments fall to authoritarianism and violence.
I guess I should talk about a cell phone game as a means of distracting from my failures as a father, the unaffordability of a house in today's market, and my ever-receding hairline. Blanket buffs to GR Jedi. Also Padawan lessons goes to every one of them. Let's talk about Padawan Lessons, because CG actually explained this earlier in a small section I completely neglected to post because I got distracting by the impending doom facing our small, insignificant world. Like how my dog crossed the rainbow bridge in February. Don't worry, we're going to adopt a new dog soon, and we'll fix him or her, too, so they can't bring any new life into this dystopian hellscape only to watch it wither and die in the floods of 2037, or starve in the global wheat shortage of 2041, or simply be boiled away in the solar crisis (great movie, fyi) of 2057. Not that the dog would actually live that long. They'll get to go on to a better place, thinking they were happy, the poor fool.
We don't deserve dogs.
We certainly don't deserve a buff like Padawan Lessons, where for every 10k protection Beq has, he and every GR Jedi on his team gets +5% offense and 20 Defense Penetration, up to a max of 500% and 2000. Which, if you're paying attention to the game and not the fact that the Giant Meteor 2024 campaign is absolutely CRUSHING the competition (puns really are the spice of life after 30), you'll realize is just an astronomical (see what I did there) amount of offense and DP.
I remember when I was younger and would have made a DP joke, but now I'm old, and bitter, and - aww, fuck it. Like how the mom of whoever it is that is torturing me with all these colons without spaces after them gets DP'd every night by me and someone almost as awesome! Haha. Suck it, whoever that is. And also your mom.
I'm an adult, you guys. I am responsible for raising a child. Life is juxtaposition and contradiction. There is no purpose, only irony.
Let's move on!

Unique: The Sabered Hand - Zeta - Unlock Tier 7

Oh my god this guy's mom just keeps. getting. DP'd. And she LOVES it. She told me this morning on a note she left in this guy's lunch, but which she gave me instead because she loves me more than him. Me and the other almost as awesome guy totally high-fived about it. Don't worry about who's the front and who's the back or even which part of the back. We move around a lot.

Final Text:
If all allies are Galactic Republic Jedi, Kelleran Beq loses 40% Max Health and gains double that as Max Protection.
For every 10,000 Protection Kelleran Beq has at the start of battle, he gains a stack of Padawan Lessons for the rest of battle.
While Kelleran Beq has Protection, he has 100% Counter Chance, a 50% chance to attack again whenever he uses a basic ability, and can't drop below 100% Health.
If there are no allied Galactic Legends:
Whenever a Galactic Republic Jedi ally is inflicted with Healing Immunity, they gain 40% Protection Up and Tenacity Up for 1 turn
Whenever a Galactic Republic Jedi ally is inflicted with Target Lock, they recover 20% Health and Protection and +10% Turn Meter
If Kelleran Beq is in the Leader slot and not the ally slot, the first time he would be defeated, he instead recovers 100% Health and Protection and gains a bonus turn. Otherwise, if the allied leader is a Galactic Republic Jedi and not a Galactic Legend at the start of the battle, they gain Second Wind for the rest of the battle, which can't be copied, dispelled, or prevented.
Padawan Lessons: For each stack of Padawan Lessons, this character gains 20 Defense Penetration and 5% Offense

This is just the stuff about Padawan Lessons. Beq needs, nay - craves - a DP with the mom of the guy who doesn't know how to use spaces after colons. And also he needs protection. Like SO MUCH protection. Also, if you didn't notice, this 50% chance to attack again on basic is all the time, so like, if you call him to assists, granting foresight to an ally, he might attack again, granting more foresight. And if you use basic on his turn, he already attacks twice, which means there's a 50% chance he attacks a third time. That's sick. Like the burn I gave the colon failure's mom. It was a rug burn. From the rub on colon blow's bedroom floor. You're gonna wanna wash that, my guy. Your mom can show you how. She's great at getting semen out of things.
Also, CG didn't include what the fuck Second Wind is in this post, so if you haven't memorized the Jello kit (GL LO, keep up, guys), here it is:

Second Wind: The first time this character would be reduced to 1% Health, dispel this buff and recover 50% Health and Protection instead

So Beq self-revives if he's leader, otherwise he lets the GR Jedi leader self-revive (which, imagine this on a QGJ omicron team). That's outstanding. there's also some stuff that makes GR Jedi strong against target lock or healing immunity, which I assume is to counter GG teams, since GG has been a pretty solid counter to QGJ teams for a while now.
In summation:
- We're all gonna die.
- Beq is a QGJ lifter.
- People who don't properly format text when using colons are literally worse than Hitler. I mean, at least Hitler killed Hitler. Colon guy's most defining trait is how hard he cries when his mom brags about her DPs to the other moms at Spin Class.
----
If you want to read more (and after all that spicy DP chatter, who would blame you), I keep an index of my various and sundry posts related to SWGoH here.

Welcome to this year's winter holiday megathread. This is the thread where we answer questions about what to do, where, see, and more.
Always remember, WE LIVE HERE. WE ARE NOT TRAVEL AGENTS. DO YOU OWN LEG WORK FIRST.
Additionally, you already know -- please gently nudge any generic holiday OPs here. Mad generic post will be deleted.

ALL GENERIC HOLIDAY QUESTIONS OUTSIDE OF THIS THREAD WILL BE DELETED. PLEASE REPORT THEM.

Hope the holidays will be good to you this year! Take a moment to stop and smell those nuts, go check out the holiday train, or stay indoors to avoid Santacon (December 9th this year).
Use this thread to discuss plans, give advice, or just hang out and chat about the holidays. Feel free to suggest more events, this is a living breathing document. You can DM me or drop a post here.
DATES

• Tree Lighting - Nov 29
• 1st Night of Hanukkah - December 7th
• SantaCon - December 9th
• Winter Solstice - Dec 21
• Festivus - Dec 23
• Christmas- December 25th
• 1st Night of Kwanzaa - Dec 26th
• Tree comes down -- January 13, 2024

Shows & Events

The Met is doing La Boheme, The Magic Flute, Tannhauser and a few others.
Big Band Holidays @ Jazz Lincoln Center
You already know NYCB is doing Nutcracker
Back at it again with the Messiah @ Carnegie Hall
Rockettes poppin' off at Radio City
Kwanzaa Crawl
THE JINKX & DELA HOLIDAY SHOW
NUTCRACKER! MAGICAL CHRISTMAS BALLET
St John's is doing El Nino - Nativity Reconsidered and other events.
Gingerbread City down at the Seaport
The Apollo has some events, including Amateur Night Holiday Special
Brooklyn's Largest Menorah lighting
Hanukkah on Ice - Dec 12th
Origami Holiday Tree at AMNH
Latina Christmas Special
NYC PANTO: SLEEPING BEAUTY - Dec 2nd and Dec 9th
SantaCon - Dec 9th
Symphony Space is hosting some stuff
Bronx Zoo Holiday Light Show
Luna Park is open for the winter for the first time. FROST FEST opens this Saturday.
Central Park's Tree Lighting - Nov 30th
Central Park Winter Movie Tour
Your local park is probably having a tree lighting
Washington Square Park tree lighting.
Holiday Nostalgia Rides
Dyker Heights Brooklyn Christmas Lights

The tour buses are not worth it. They park on 86thSt. They don't cruise the side streets, AFAIK.
I recommend you use x28 or x38 express bus. Use the bus time app to meet it. $7 per person. (MC or OMNY) On par with a tour bus but no bathroom.
Take the Express Bus. Get off at 13th Ave. All businesses along there. Get something to eat and drink and use their facilities. Then walk the side streets as you see fit to do so.

The High Line will probably do winter lights again.
Volunteering - New York Cares
Seaport Tree Lighting
Brooklyn Botanical Gardens is doing a lightshow.
50th Annual Tuba Christmas - Sunday, December 10 @ 3:30 PM, Rockefeller Center.
#UNSILENTNIGHT - December 17th, 2023 6:00pm

Shops & That

Holiday Markets

• Bryant Park
  
• Union Square
  
• Grand Central
  
• Columbus Circle
  
• Oculus
  
• Brooklyn Navy Yard
  
• Hudson Yards
  
• Christmas in Little Italy
  

Where to buy ugly Christmas sweaters

• Your local thrift shop. Use this to search prior post regarding TS
• Target
• Is Century 21 open again?
• Macy's
• H&M
• Kmart
• TJ Maxx

Kitschy shops when you just don't know what to get.

• Random Accessories
• The Evolution Store
• Exit9 Gift Emporium
• Fishs Eddy
• Alabaster
• Casey Rubber Stamps

Booze & Food with Holiday vibes.

Eater has an article this year

• Plaza for their Christmas Buffet Dinner on Christmas Day.
  
• Rolf's Bar & Grill or German Restaurant
  
• Miracle on 9th street
  
• Oscar Wilde
  
• International Bar
  
• Ms.Lillie's
  
• Tavern on the Green
  
• Gramercy Tavern
  
• Temple Court
  
• Odeon
  
• Wo Hop
  
• Sippin' Santa is at THIEF LES this year
  
• Valerie
  
• Loreley’s Winter Wonderland
  
• Sunday in Brooklyn
  

FAQ Winter Questions

• Is this winter?

Our weather has been wild this year. NYC usually gets brick around mid Jan. And killer in February.

• How do I prepare for the cold?

Get a scarf. You don't need a 1k jacket. If you mad cold. Get some gloves. We don't have super wicked Chicago-esque winters anymore. You can use this thread for more detailed guidance.

If you're going to go to Santa-con.....here are some tips from the community.

• you need a small bag that is secure against your body for your house keys, metro card, etc.
  
• put cash multiple places on you and have lots of it bring breath mints
  
• start late - do not show up on time. Pretend you are that friend that's three hours late to everything.
  
• go to the biggest, trashiest nightclub on their list and don't fuck with bar hopping
  
• wear other clothes under your costumes so you can ditch them and throw them out when you get sick of the santacon vibes
  
• bring gatorade and force people to pound it between rounds Edit to add:
  
• if you bring little pocket size sets of tissues, every woman around will love you when the trashy late night joint runs out of toilet paper
  
• I used to bring real low abv jello shots - it's an easy way to make friends in a crowd and it technically counts as food
  
• no jackets; alcohol is your jacket, also you will lose your jacket. Do a sweatshirt you hate or other items you don't mind losing.
  
• Actually, in general, don't bring anything you would mind losing fo rever.
  
• take the subway a stop or two away from the santas to get your cab on your ride home
  
• jingle bells are fucking fun when you're drunk in a mass of people dressed festively
  

Christmas Tipping 101

It's common practice to tip your super and doormen in NYC. While it's not obligatory -- they're humans too. They're usually working all hours of the night, and/or have multiple jobs -- so if you're in a fortunate spot, extend a thank you.
Regardless of how you feel about tipping. Here's a guide on how it's done.

1. Christmas you must tip, and how much depends on how much you have, but leave something. Even if that something is visa cash giftcard or the limited amount of cash you have. If you don't tip -- don't be surprised when failures in your apartment land on the back burner for the building's team. AT the end of the day CASH IS KING.
   
2. If your building is large - Tip everyone for Christmas, but it’s ok to tip those you know better. Typically you want to tip your super and handyman the most, followed by those you see the most often (daytime/nighttime doorman, etc.)
   
3. If your building is on the larger side, there's a chance you'll find a collection box in the lobby. The building management typically handles distributing the box or a Christmas card from the employees, complete with everyone's names. You can use this card as a reference to write individual cards for the people you know personally.
   

It's important to remember that supers have bosses as well. Sometimes they may do something for you and won’t charge you. Dropping an email to our property manager or board president, giving props for the good work goes a long way. That often goes a much longer way for than $50.
Note: Unabridged edition is here - roosterclan
More to read here and here.

It's Halloween night, and you're on your way to a mysterious party at a secluded old manor on the edge of town. Outside you meet a charming girl in a very convincing vampire costume and the two of you chat a bit… only for you to realize she's a real vampire!
You quickly learn you're not at just any Halloween party. You've stumbled on the Monster's Ball, a legendary night of supernatural revelry attended by all manner of monsters and creatures of the night – and more than a few of them are interested in being your date. It's up to you to decide which of thirteen unique and colorful characters (including a vampire, a zombie, a werewolf, a fairy, an incubus/succubus couple, a three-headed chimera, and more) you want to spend the spookiest night of the year with in this Halloween choose-your-own-adventure story with 10 alternate endings.
This is a script for a Halloween choose-your-own-adventure collab I organized with 13 VAs and 6 writers this year. It was so much fun collaborating with so many immensely talented people, and I really appreciate all the hard work and creativity everyone who participated put into their roles. I hope others will enjoy the final product as much as I did. The full cast and writers list is included below.
u/Starry_Night369 as Vicky, a confident and flirty vampire (Ending by u/Stormcoming7)
u/DeluluDeliria as Zoe, a shy but kind zombie (Ending by u/NataliaFinnVT)
u/KyrianW as Phillip, a cold and blunt but emotionally aware phantom (Ending by u/PrepareThyBedlam)
u/Baby_Dragon_Fly as Faye, a sweet and bubbly but slightly human-obsessed fairy (Ending by u/GoldenProxy)
u/Simple_Mastermind as Warren, a competitive and boisterous werewolf (Ending by u/NineTailsScripts)
u/StonefallVA as Damon, a friendly and jovial woodland dryad (Ending by u/Patient-Departure626)
u/ChaChaBoop as Gabby, a nerdy, tomboy goblin girl who has an academic interest in humans (Ending by u/Lalo_ASMR_Alt)
u/penguinarmyfamila as Lana, a lonely and shy lamia (Ending by u/Stormcoming7)
u/TheWickedQueen_ as Clarissa, the smooth and flirty cobra head of a three-headed chimera (Ending by u/Lalo_ASMR_Alt)
u/NataliaFinnVT as Tabby, the confident and jealous tiger head of the chimera (Ending by u/Lalo_ASMR_Alt)
u/JouskaByNight as Ozzy, the foolish ostrich head of the chimera (Ending by u/Lalo_ASMR_Alt)
u/kainpai as Ivan, a suave and charming incubus (Ending by u/Lalo_ASMR_Alt)
u/TaesTeahouse as Sabrina, Ivan's equally charismatic and flirty succubus girlfriend (Ending by u/Lalo_ASMR_Alt)
Link to the script on Scriptbin, the full text is also below.
My other scripts + fills.
Characters
[V] Vicky
[Z] Zoe
[P] Phillip
[F] Faye
[W] Warren
[D] Damon
[G] Gabby
[L] Lana
[C] Clarissa
[T] Tabby
[O] Ozzy
[I] Ivan
[S] Sabrina
[Footsteps]
[V] Oh hey. Late to the party too, huh? Don't sweat it… the cool kids are always fashionably late to this thing.
[V] I haven't seen you around before. New in town? My name's Victoria, but my friends call me Vicky. What's yours?
…
[V] Mhm. Pleasure to meet you.
…
[V] "Nice costume?" Uh… what costume? I don't usually dress up to this thing, not really my style.
…
[V] (Confused) ...What? This isn't a costume, silly. I'm a vampire. Duh, see the fangs? Anyway, let's get on up those stairs and get inside before the mermaids and mermen get their clammy little hands all over the jello cups.
[V] Last year there wasn't a single one left by the time I showed up, can you believe that? You'd think they'd watch their diet since it's swimsuit season year round for them, but who knows. I'll never understand sea monsters.
[V] Here, after you.
[Door opens]
[V] Man, I've been coming to this manor on Halloween for the past hundred years or so, you'd think they'd change up the decor a little once a while. (Laugh) I guess Victorian is supposed to be timeless.
[V] So, uh… what are you supposed to be?
…
[V] (Laugh) No, not your costume. I mean what kind of monster are you?
…
[V] No, you heard me right. What kind of monster are you? You look pretty, uh, human. (Laugh) When I saw you standing outside I was trying to figure out if you're, like, a werewolf that was saving their transformation for the dance floor or what.
[V] You're not a vampire, I know that much. Your teeth are way too small to be one of us.
…
[V] You're a little slow on the uptake, huh? Don't worry… it's actually kind of cute. (Laugh) I already said I don't mean your costume, I mean what kind of actual monster are–
[V] Wait a minute… that outfit you're wearing, your voice, the way you talk… You're actually… human, aren't you? That's why you thought I was wearing a costume?
…
[V] Oh my god… it's been, like, decades since one of you showed up here. How'd you even get an invite?
…
[V] Just a Halloween party? (Laugh) Sweetheart, this isn't just a Halloween party. (Whisper) This is the Monster's Ball.
[V] I honestly can't believe I–
…
[Z] Hey, Vicky! You made it! I saved you a couple brownies in a napkin from the snack table downstairs before they ran out, I know you love those. They look so tasty I almost want to eat one myself, but you know I have pretty major dietary issues... being a zombie and all.
[V] Oh, Zoe! You're just in time. Forget the snacks, you're never going to believe who I ran into outside.
[Z] (To listener) Oh hey, how's it going. I'm Zoe. I'd shake your hand, but, uh… as you can see mine is kinda, uh, falling off again… That's what happens when you try to beat an octopus girl at Twister. (Laugh) I was actually on my way to go duct tape it back in place in the bathroom when–
[V] Yeah, yeah, anyway… get this. This one is human.
[Z] What? No way. You are? I mean I know you look human but… I figured you were, I don't know… a skinwalker wearing a pretty cute body to the Ball. I was actually going to compliment you on your fashion sense. You know where you are, right?
…
[Z] Uh, calling this a "Halloween party" is like calling me unhealthy. (Laugh) Technically correct, but… a mega understatement. This is the Monster's Ball.
[Z] (Grandiose voice) Every year on Halloween night, creepy creatures of all kinds – or "monsters" to use our preferred nomenclature – make their way from near and far to this manor for a night of celebration and revelry the ordinary world only sees in dreams… or nightmares. And you, my friend, are the first human we've had show up to the festivities in… god, I'm not even sure how long.
…
[V] Yes, what she's trying to say is that we're real monsters. I'm a real vampire, these fangs aren't plastic. (Softer) Some other parts are, but the fangs aren't. (Normal voice) And that arm practically hanging off my undead bestie isn't some prop either. She's a real zombie, a genuine living corpse.
[Z] Yep. It's not just us, either. Take a look behind me. See that dude in the bowtie with the single-lens sunglasses? He's a cyclops. See that chick with the horns and hooves doing karoake by the bar? She's a satyr. See that couple in the tight black outfits taking turns whipping each other over by the stairwell? She's a succubus, her boyfriend is an incubus… their kind really needs to learn to get a room, in my opinion. But yeah, point is… we're all real monsters.
[Z] Uh… I can see you're a little… surprised. There's no need to be scared or anything. I mean… sure… some of us have a bit of a bad reputation with humans.
[V] That's putting it mildly. (Laugh)
[Z] Hey come on, don't scare them! There's a standing tradition at the Monster's Ball that we don't hurt anyone or cause any harm, especially to humans. Tonight's not about that. It's about having fun, letting loose, letting your claws and fangs and wings hang free... the kind of stuff monsters never get to do the rest of the year when we're busy, uh... monstering. So, like… don't worry. I'm not going to eat your brains or anything, for example.
[Z] Okay I see by the look on your face I shouldn't have said the words "eat" and "brains" in the same sentence, but… I mean, I was just trying to explain I'm not going to! I don't even want to! I mean… not that I'm sure they aren't tasty or whatever, I mean you look smart, I'm sure your brains are as big and juicy as any other human–
[V] Yeah, yeah, save it Zoe. God you zombies are the worst flirts I've ever seen – and that's counting mantis girls.
[Z] (Defensive) Hey! That's not true… and I wasn't flirting, exactly, I was just… I mean… well even if I was flirting, would you… be okay with that? I mean… you seem like a cool person. I'd kind of like to get to know you better if–
[V] Yeah, you and every other monster here. (To listener) Excuse my friend tripping over her own rotted tongue. There's one thing you have to know about monsters… most of us are very interested in humans. Some of us… dangerously so, honestly.
[V] Kind of ironic given half of us also eat humans, or drink them in my case, but… the heart wants what it wants. (Laugh) And what this vampire's heart wants is for you to be my date to this Ball. So come on, cutie, let's go dance. I'll show you some great flapper moves I picked up in the 1920s, it'll be fun. You know I once dated F. Scott Fitzgerald? True story. I'll tell you all about it when–
[Z] Wait, I mean… before you go–
[Eerie ghost sound]
[P] (Deadpan) What's happening here? (Acknowledging the others) Vicky, Zoe… and I don't think I've met you before, have I? You have very striking eyes… I'd remember them.
…
[V] Oh, Phil. I didn't think you'd be at this party.
[Z] (To listener) This is Phillip, our ghost friend.
[P] I prefer the term phantom. And I died on these grounds, Victoria, my spirit is trapped here for eternity. It's impossible for me to not be at this party. Your friend is human, by the way.
[Z] We know. But how did you know that?
[P] Spirits have a sixth sense for these things, no pun intended. We can recognize a kindred spirit still inhabiting its mortal shell… and your spirit is quite the vibrant one, if I might say so, friend.
[V] Oh don't you start flirting with them, too… (Groan)
[P] Who's flirting? I only paid a compliment where it's due. This human has a warm soul… I can feel it flowing over them like a... heated blanket, soft to the touch. It's a pleasant feeling.
[P] Don't be alarmed by my appearance, human. Here, feel my hand on your cheek… tickles a little, doesn't it, the energy?
[P] I'm not so different from you, only older and… well, ghostlier. Hence the glowing, pale, translucent skin. But I'm not a true monster in the way of most guests at the Ball – ghosts are merely humans lingering a little after their time.
[P] I can tell you're not like most people here, either, in form or in spirit. I think I'd like to spend more time with you… if you'd be interested.
[V] (Sarcastic) Generous offer, Phil, but unfortunately they're already my date, and I'm not big on sharing.
[Z] (Soft) Uh, they actually didn't make a decision on–
[P] Come now. The two of you are… amusing, but I'm sure our mutual friend would prefer the company of a soul akin to his own over a night with a bloodsucking goth or a girl so dead she can't keep her limbs on straight.
[V] Hey!
[Z] Hey!
[Z] You're dead too, genius! At least one of us has a body at all. It's easy to insult other people's bodies when you're just ectoplasm or whatever.
[Z] Don't listen to him, human. I may be dead, or undead, depending on your point of view… but ask people who know me, I can still be the life of the party. Ever played limbo with a zombie?
[V] And you're not the only former human here, either, Phil. How do you think most vampires are made?
[P] I'm the only former human who remains similar to what I was before. Trust me, human, I can understand you. And you'll find that though my manner might seem a trifle cold… I can be warm, too, in my own way. I get along better with people more like me.
[V] Well then, I'm sure there are plenty of great girls and guys for you out in the cemetery across the street, but this human is–
[Magical sound]
[F] Did someone say "human?"
[V] (Groan) Oh no.
[Z] Oh… hi, Faye.
[P] (Deadpan) Oh, my favorite fairy.
[F] I'm ever so sorry to interrupt, everyone, pardon my rudeness. But, you know, I just couldn't help overhearing–
[V] You mean eavesdropping.
[F] (Passive aggressive) Overhearing a little of your conversation and I believe someone said there's a human at the Monster's Ball tonight? Is that you, my little friend?
…
[F] Oh, splendid! I'm ever so pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Faye the fairy. It's been so, so long since I met a human… I'm awfully fond of humans. (Laugh) I only wish more of them came and stayed in my mushroom circle…
[P] It might help if you didn't act so utterly obsessed with them from the moment you met them.
[F] (Defensive) I don't act obsessed! I'm just… full of love and affection, is all, and sometimes that comes out in a way that's a little… intimidating. But I have nothing but love for humans, I promise, you'll see. Say… this is a little strange but… oh its been so long since I met a human! Can I give you a hug?
…
[F] Oh thank you! Here we go, let me just wrap my arms around you and bring you in real close. Mmm. (Whisper) Doesn't that feel all nice and warm? Fairies give the best hugs in the world.
[F] Oh, I'm so glad you're here. Now you can be my date to the Monster's Ball.
[P] I'm afraid this human is spoken for.
[F] What? By who?
[Z] Uh… a couple of monsters actually–
[F] Well whoever it is, no frightening, scary, terrible monster is a proper date for a kind, gentle, adorable human like this. They need the gentle touch of the fae, not the rough hands of the undead… no offense to present company.
[V] (Defensive) Hey! The three of us may be undead, but at least we were all human once and we see them as actual people. Fairies like you see humans as exotic pets, living stuffed animals to dress up and sit across from at your tea parties.
[F] (Defensive) And is there something wrong with being an exotic pet for a fairy? We treat our pets ever so nicely, we feed them and care for them and shower them in love… Say, human, maybe you'd like to hear more about what it would be like to be my pet…
[Z] (Whisper) Trust me, she's insane.
[F] Would you like to feel my wings, human? They're the softest things ever, oh you'll love them. I only let my very special friends touch them, but you seem like a–
[Growl]
[W] What are you all barking about over here? That's usually my thing.
[Z] Oh hey Warren. You're looking dapper in that blue suit jacket, really suits your fur color. A human showed up to the Monster's Ball.
[W] Oh… a human. That's interesting…
[V] Everyone wants to be their date.
[W] Well I don't. I know most monsters are crazy for humans, but I'm not… They're all weak and soft and squishy compared to us… they're nothing special. I don't get why monsters are so obsessed with them. I mean take a werewolf like me, I can tear through metal with my bare teeth and run faster than a jaguar… compared to that what makes some regular old human off the street so special?
[V] Good. So you won't mind someone else taking them, then.
[W] (Quickly) I didn't say that. I mean… even though humans aren't anything special… it still might be kind of interesting to have a human date... (To listener) If you can even keep up with a werewolf, that is. We party pretty hard, don't expect me to slow my roll on your account. But if you think you can handle it… you look like you might be kind of fun to spend time with, maybe…
[F] Don't get any funny ideas, wolf. This human is mine, if they want a mangy dog I can take them by the pet shelter later to pick up one with better fashion sense… Why are you here, anyway, don't you have bones to be chewing or something? (Laugh)
[W] Don't you have pixie dust to be snorting, princess?
[F] Fairies and pixies are not even close to–
[Z] Hey, come on, everyone just relax. We don't need to keep getting so heated. We're all friends here… sort of… Well we're all monsters, anyway. And this is the Monster's Ball, this is our night. Let's not bicker.
[P] Good luck asking for civility from someone who goes rabid at the sight of a particularly fat squirrel.
[W] Rabid? Did you just call me rabid, Phillip?
[P] Don't tell me that foam that always gushes at the corners of your mouth when the waiter sets your steak on the table is toothpaste.
[W] I don't foam at the mouth... at least not in public! (To listener) Look, human, I already said I don't care much for your kind, but… I don't want you to get the wrong idea from this bitter poltergeist. He's just mad he hasn't gotten out of the house in decades. It's not true. Not that I have anything to prove to you, or anyone else... but I won't stand for people mocking some of the noblest monsters around. Werewolves almost always do not get rabies.
[V] That's actually true. Of course there is that other pesky problem of going absolutely savage once a month when the moon is full... But at least you probably don't have rabies. (Laugh)
[W] "Savage?" Bold word choice from a woman who takes her coffee red.
[V] Hey, I would never drink someone's blood without their permission. And I have no shortage of willing takers, thank you very much. Besides, at least what I drink can be replenished.
[P] Imagine all this fighting over which part of you you'd like your date to eat when a perfectly eligible bachelor who doesn't want to consume any of you is standing, er, floating, right here.
[Z] To be fair, it's easy to have no appetite when you have no stomach.
[P] I have a heart. That's what matters.
[F] You had a heart, emphasis on had. I, on the other hand, have every organ in place, even the magical ones only fairies have. And I don't want your blood or your flesh or your brains.
[F] Sure, I may be a bit… forward. But at least I'm honest enough to admit when I have a crush on someone.
[W] What is that supposed to mean? I don't have a crush on them, I just met them! I didn't even say I wanted to be their date… I mean I said it might be cool, but I'm not begging for it or anything. I'm not desperate…
[F] When did I say I was talking about you? (Laugh)
[W] I… Shut up!
[F] What's that one human saying… "A hit dog will holler?" (Laugh) Anyway darling, how about we–
[Tree swaying]
[D] (Clears throat) Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, I don't mean to interrupt. My name is Damon, I and my friend Gabby, who's sitting on my shoulder here–
[G] (Shy) Hi.
[D] -were wondering if any of you could point us to the cloakroom. Gabby left her coat there and it's getting a bit chilly on the roof. This place is like a maze, it's been so hard to find our way back.
[P] A goblin sitting on a talking plant. Now I've seen it all.
[D] She is a goblin, but I'm actually not a plant, though I see why you might think that given my leaves and branches and flower petals and… okay, I'm sort of a plant. (Laugh) Really I'm a dryad, a living spirit of the forest. We dryads are guardians of nature and the environment, trusted with the care of–
[V] Yeah, yeah, save the speech for your next Greenpeace rally, Damon. We're discussing important stuff.
[D] Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt. My apologies. What are you all up to?
[Z] This human here stumbled into the Monster's Ball, everyone wants to be their date but we can't decide who should get the honor.
[D] Oh, wow! A human. I'm sure I must look very strange to you, I know my appearance is a bit odd to those not well-acquainted with creatures of the forest. (Laugh) That's alright, don't worry. I don't mean you any harm.
[G] A real-life human? Wow…
[W] Well I hope you're not going to try to throw your flower crown in the ring, leaf boy. There are other interested parties.
[D] Well I wouldn't want to pressure them one way or another, and I certainly wouldn't want to prickle any of my fellow monsters. Of course, it would be a pleasant new experience to go to the Ball with a human – variety is what makes the garden of life so intoxicating, after all. But it's entirely your choice, friend. I believe the Monster's Ball should be fun for all who attend, be they monster or human. Although I will say in my favor, there's unlikely to be anyone else here who can grow you a party favor quite like this.
[Flower blooming magic]
[Z] Woah. Is that flower real? It's so beautiful and colorful. How did you just grow it like that in 2 seconds?
[D] Well I am a spirit of the trees, after all. I have a bit of a green thumb. Here, take it. A gift from Mother Nature, really, just by way of her humble servant.
[F] Big deal, I have a thousand flowers like that in the garden behind my home in the fairy realm. They're absolutely gorgeous, you can see them if you choose me. And the difference is, when we cuddle you won't need to spend time picking leaves out of your hair. (Laugh)
[D] That's a little harsh.
[W] Don't try to pluck roses if you can't handle a couple thorns, Damon.
[G] I've never seen a human up close before, outside of my textbooks.
[D] Oh, right. Gabby here is actually studying humans in monster college, she's something of an expert in humanology.
[G] (Shy) Well, I mean, I'm hardly an expert… I just got started with my degree… but, I am a massive human nerd. Er, not a human nerd, obviously. I'm a goblin, if you couldn't tell by the fact that I'm really short and have green skin and pointy ears (Laugh). But, I mean, I'm a nerd for, like, human culture and history… I've always been interested in it, ever since I was a little girl.
…
[G] Oh, all kinds of stuff. I remember how, growing up back home, when the other goblins were out scavenging for gold and gemstones you could always find me curled up with this copy of The Phantom Tollbooth I found in a crate washed up on the beach. I read it, like, 30 times… I loved it so much. Did you know for the longest time I didn't know what parts were true and which were fiction, so I thought talking dogs were real?
[F] Talking dogs are real, just ask Warren here. (Laugh)
[W] You're still here, Tinker Bell? I thought you were supposed to die when people stopped paying attention to you.
[F] And, I thought dogs were supposed to–
[Z] Everyone just calm down, at least let Gabby finish.
[G] Uh, I was just going to say, I mean… it would be really cool to spend tonight with a real human. I have so many questions to ask… and, honestly… it would be really fun to kind of live out that human romance I've only ever read about in the books… I don't know though, I know I'm kind of a nerd, I'm not exactly most people's first choice for a Ball date. Unless… you'd be interested…
[D] I'll say this, having known Gabby quite a long time… she's one of the smartest people you'll ever meet. Sure, she's a nerd… but who doesn't like nerds?
[G] (Embarrassed) Aww, thanks Damon. You're not too bad for a loghead yourself. (Laugh)
[V] So a dryad and a goblin, let me just add that to the list of people in line to steal my date. (Groan) You know, if I had known every monster in a three-mile radius was going to–
[L] Um… hello… sssorrry to intrude. I sssaw you all ssstanding here and was hoping you wouldn't mind me joining you. This is my firssst time at the Monster'sss Ball and I don't really know anyone here, ssso…
[V] Who are you?
[L] I'm Lana. As you can sssee, I'm a lamia… a ssserpent girl. Sorry for my lisssp, it's embarrasssing but I can't control it…
[Z] You can join us if you want. We're not really doing anything, just bickering very immaturely.
[L] About what?
[Z] The human.
[L] Human? You mean… thisss one? You're human?
…
[L] Oh. I rarely meet humansss. Though… I rarely meet anyone, for that matter. I don't have many friendsss or people to ssspend time with. But… it's nissse to meet you.
…
[L] Oh, do you like it? Thank you… I picked out this dresss ssspecially for tonight. It can be hard to find dressesss fitted for a lamia, so I was lucky to find one ssso beautiful. It's probably a little too fansssy for me…
…
[L] That's sssweet of you to sssay. Thank you…
[P] You're quite the snake charmer, human.
[D] Lamias are actually less like snakes and more like serpents, the key difference being that–
[F] No one cares. Now I'll admit the dress looks nice… as much as it can on a reptile, anyway. But I see the way you're eyeing my human, sister, so (Making fun of her lisp) ssslither off.
[V] Your human? Am I all of a sudden just not even in the running anymore? I'm the one who found them in the first place!
[W] Anyone can find a human they like, it's getting them to like you when you're a monster that's the hard part. Trust me…
[Z] (Softly, sarcastic) And you're all doing such a great job of that.
[L] Sssorry, I didn't mean to caussse any trouble… I'll go…
[Z] No, no… it's not your fault. Everyone is just getting so worked up tonight over who gets to be the human's date.
[L] Date? Oh… Well, I've never had a date to the Ball before. Dancing together, holding hands, maybe even a kisss… That might be nissse…
[C] Well if you're into snakes, why didn't you just say so? I can give you the real deal.
[O] (Silly, innocent) Uh, I'm not sure we should interrupt this Clarissa, these guys seem–
[C] Shut up, Ozzy.
[O] Sorry.
[Z] Who are you… wait… are there more than one of you?
[G] Oh my… that's a chimera! They're pretty rare, I've actually never met one… they're three-headed monsters. I'm trying to think back to that book I read about it… let me see. Um, I think, one head is usually some type of dragon or snake–
[C] (Confident) That would be moi. My name is Clarissa, pleasure to meet you all. I'm a cobra, but don't let the venomous fangs intimidate you. I don't bite. Much. (Laugh)
[V] Those are some sweet fangs. They'd be the envy of most vampires…
[G] Another head is, like, a lion…
[T] Tigress, actually. The name's Tabitha, but my friends call me Tabby… and call it animal instinct, but I have this feeling we're about to become very good friends, human.
[G] And the last head is… uh… I forgot what the other head is.
[O] I'm an emu.
[T] (Annoyed) You're an ostrich, Ozzy. (Softly) Idiot. (Normal voice) Ignore him. And ignore my serpentine sister as well, her forked tongue is always getting her into trouble.
[C] Don't even start, Tabby. (To listener) Don't mind my imbecile brother and my less imbecile but no less intrusive sister… I'd have left them at home before coming to the Ball, but, as you can see… we're joined at the hip, so to speak.
[V] More like the neck.
[C] It can be quite annoying always being part of a crowd, but one gets used to it. Three's company, right? And it beats being alone… I wouldn't want you to be alone at the Ball, human, that's no fun at all…
[W] Well don't worry about it. They're not alone. They're my date.
[T] Back off, wolf. I'm the queen of this jungle, and when I see prey I like I don't share. Doesn't your kind prefer bones anyway? (Laugh)
[W] (Angry) Bones? We don't chew on bones, we're not dogs. And most of the tigers I've met aren't in a jungle anyway, they're busy doing tricks at the circus.
[T] (Sarcastic) Do you spend a lot of time at the circus?
[F] (Laugh) Okay, that was actually kind of funny. You know, it's a shame you two are trying to get between me and my date, on a different night we'd probably get along.
[C] Relax everyone. See, this is why you can never hold a relationship, Tabby, you're much too aggressive. (To listener) My sister is desperate to earn her stripes… even though she already has so many. I prefer a gentler touch. And I'd be happy to show you just how gentle, human…
[T] No, the reason is because you always lunge in and steal my dates right out from under me. You're a real snake sometimes.
[C] It's not my fault if people prefer my company. And you can be very catty yourself, darling, but you don't hear me complaining about it.
[T] I do. All the time. Your mouth is permanently a couple inches from my ear, in case you forgot.
[C] Don't remind me.
[T] What she's not telling you, human, is that you won't be able to feel your lips for an hour after she kisses you. Cobra venom is pretty much the opposite of an aphrodisiac. (Laugh)
[C] At least my kisses won't take half someone's face off.
[T] That only happened once! And it's not my fault I sneezed in the middle of it, you know I have allergies.
[O] (Innocent) I'd like to kiss someone one day.
[T] Shut up, Ozzy.
[O] Sorry.
[P] You're not seriously considering going to the Ball with this… ensemble, are you, human?
[V] Only if they want their wedding to be a quadruple date.
[T] I'm not so scary, human, don't be intimidated. Sure, I'm a fearsome apex predator… but don't think that means I don't like belly rubs and scritches behind the ears as much as the next girl. I can be soft and affectionate, too. I'm sure you're more of a cat person than a dog person, anyway.
[W] Hey! I said I'm not a dog. Though… I bet they're a dog person, anyway. Not that… not that I'm a dog…
[C] You're both wrong. I can already see but that look on their face, this human is a snake person. (Laugh)
[L] Technically, I'm a sssnake perssson.
[C] And don't let that little jab about venom scare you off, either. My sister is just mad I'm the better cuddler. Ever been wrapped up tight in smooth cobra scales? It feels so much snugger than you'd think… and I give the best massages, too.
[T] Until your lips turn blue. (Laugh)
[C] I'm a cobra, not a boa constrictor. And my romantic partners usually turn red, not blue, which is more than I can say for you.
[T] I'd rather you didn't say anything for me. I can speak for myself.
[C] As if we could forget.
[T] Picture us lying together, you enveloped in my soft arms by the dying firelight, human. Doesn't it sound nice and cozy and warm? It is. More than you can imagine. That could be us tonight, if you want. Just take my paw, let me lead you.
[C] That paw might as well be a monkey's because whatever you're wishing for, it's not going to go the way you think. She's competitive and loud and jealous… trust me, you'd prefer someone less hot-blooded. Maybe even someone cold-blooded.
[T] Better to be too hot and passionate than too cold. You should choose me, if only to shut Clarissa up.
[C] Or you could choose me and shut Tabby up, that's also an enticing option. Call it a serpent's intuition, but I can tell all the yowling is getting to you.
[C] Just go with me. Say what you want about me, but at least I won't be tempted to eat you.
[T] How dare you? I would never eat someone so adorable! I'm closer to eating you than them if you don't stop being so smarmy.
[C] Maybe I'll eat you first, then.
[T] I'd like to see you try.
[C] Is that a challenge? Want to see how far this jaw unhinges? Ever heard of an ouroboros?
[O] Um… not to interrupt all the, uh… dietary talk, but… I was thinking… I'd kind of, maybe, like to go on a date with this human as well… and I just–
[T] Shut up, Ozzy!
[C] Shut up, Ozzy!
[O] Sorry.
[Z] Hey, I hate to get in the middle of this, uh, sibling rivalry, but… do you guys smell something burning?
[W] Oh my god, the floor's on fire! Did someone forget to put out–
[Small explosion]
[V] (Coughing) What… What just happened?
[I] Sorry for the theatrics, you know we can't resist making a big entrance.
[V] (Sarcastic) Oh great… the Wonder Twins. (Softer) Just when I thought this couldn't get any more crowded…
[Z] (Whisper) You know the succubus and incubus couple we saw playing around the stairwell earlier? Well… guess they got bored…
[I] A little birdie told us there was a human at the Monster's Ball tonight… a human looking for a date. Of course, we couldn't resist taking a peek. Is this the one? Mmm… you look scrumptious, if I might be so bold.
[W] (Coughing, annoyed) Why do you guys always have to pull some magic act when you show up? You can't just walk in normally like every other monster instead of making explosions and setting stuff on fire?
[S] Well we could, but that wouldn't be very sexy, now would it? (Laugh)
[P] Third-degree burns are sexy?
[F] Demons are such show-offs. We fairies have plenty of magic, too, but you don't see us waving it around to impress people all the time…
[D] You almost caught my ivy-and-thistle cloak on fire…
[S] Oh… I don't think I've seen you before, dryad. You're a nice tall drink of sap. That's one garden I might like to take a romp in…
[D] (Gulp) I'm flattered, ma'am, truly… but I'm a little afraid of flames.
[I] Terribly sorry to bother, my friends, my sincerest apologies. For those of you who haven't had the pleasure, my name is Ivan. Demon prince, at your service. And this lovely long-tailed creature by my side is Sabrina, my other half. She's an incubus, I'm a succubus… or, rather, the other way around. (Laugh) Forgive me, I've had a bit too much to drink this evening… my tongue is especially slippery…
[S] Pleasure to make your acquaintance, human. Oh no, please, we don't shake hands. That's for boring old mortals. We demons of pleasure much prefer a more intimate greeting. How about a little kiss on that soft cheek? [Kiss]
[I] Yes we do, darling. I hope you won't mind me stealing a kiss as well. [Kiss]
[Z] Don't be too weirded out, these two are demons… they make everything they do kinda raunchy. You should see them on Valentine's Day…
[L] They do ssseem very friendly…
[I] Oh you don't know the half of it, my dear lamia – and may I say your scales are looking ravishing this evening. We're the friendliest pair of hellspawn this side of the afterlife. And don't take just my word for it… I hope you don't mind me wrapping my arm around your shoulder here, I'm a very physically affectionate creature.
[S] Don't mind my tail curling around your leg either, she's a mischievous little minx, I can hardly control her half the time when she gets going. (Laugh)
[G] You two are practically about to eat them.
[Z] And I thought I was hungry.
[I] So what do you say, human? Want to dance?
[W] Which of you is even offering to be their date, you or her?
[I] Either of us. Both of us, even. Pick your pleasure.
[S] We don't mind sharing. We don't mind sharing at all.
[I] No we don't, darling. (Laugh) Two dates for the price of one… how's that for a deal with the devil?
[V] Put your tails back in your pants, lovebirds. This human is mine, I found them and I'm tired of fighting off every monster in this manor who wants a piece.
[P] You don't really think "finders keepers" applies to people, do you?
[V] Do you have a better way to decide?
[W] I have an idea. Let's have an arm wrestling competition. Winner gets to be the human's date.
[F] Yeah, that sounds really fair against someone who can shift into a 300-pound animal at the drop of a hat.
[G] What about a… human trivia contest?
[P] How about we give it to the monster who's had to hear annoying bickering from his fellow monsters the longest?
[V] You'd have to give it to me, then, Phil.
[O] Oh, I know a way! What if we play "eenie-meanie-miney-moe."
[T] Catch a tiger by the toe.
[S] I have a little suggestion – what about a lingerie-clad pillow fight to decide who gets to take the hand of this dashing human?
[I] I adore that idea, darling. But what if, instead of wearing lingerie–
[Z] No! Enough already. I'm tired of you guys fighting. This isn't what the Monster's Ball is about. I get that everyone wants to be this human's date… (Softer) I kinda want to, too… (Normal voice) But we don't need to argue about this. Besides… what really matters is what they want.
[Z] (To listener) Not to, uh, put you on the spot too much, human… but looks like you have a choice to make. If you're going to spend the night here… which one of us, if any, do you want to go with?
[W] Can we all give like… a quick sales pitch? Just in case maybe they forgot our names? There are thirteen of us, after all… counting by heads, at least.
[Z] Sure.
[V] I'll go first. I'm Vicky the vampire. If you hang with me, I can promise you a fun night of dancing to all the old classics – and I mean the old classics. Plus, I promise not to bite you unless you ask me to. (Laugh)
[P] I'm Phillip the phantom. I was human once, and I think if you spend the night with me you'll find our souls are cut from the same cloth, so to speak.
[F] I'm Faye the fairy. Sure, I'm a little clingy, but I'm really a sweet and caring person when you get to know me and I'm a pretty good baker, too, if you've got a sweet tooth! I'd just love to walk arm-in-arm with you down the stairs to the garden as your date tonight.
[W] I'm Warren the werewolf. I'm a bit hardcore and I already said I'm not usually impressed by humans… but I'll give you a chance since you seem like you might have what it takes to party like a wolf.
[D] I'm Damon the dryad. I like flowers, trees, and long walks in the forest. I'm pretty easygoing. No hard feelings if you don't pick me, but if you do, well, let's just say I'll do what I can to make a romance bloom.
[G] I'm Gabby the goblin, and I'm kind of a nerd but I can be fun and let my hair down too, and I genuinely want to learn more about humans. If you were my date, I'd love to get to know more about you – and I promise not to pester you with too many questions about everything. (Laugh)
[L] I'm Lana the lamia… sssorry again about my lisssp. I'm a little shy and don't really have a lot of friendsss, but I've been trying to get out there more lately and I think it might be fun to ssspend more time with all of you. Especially you, human. I don't know much about romance and I've never been sssomeone'sss date to a ball before… but I'd love to try it…
[C] I'm Clarissa the cobra. Well, the cobra head of a chimera, anyway, not that my siblings ever let me forget it. If you want to have some casual fun, relax, and unwind after all the chaos tonight, you know who to go with.
[T] I'm Tabby the tigress, the best head of the aforementioned chimera. If you want something hot and fierce and fiery, that's me. I can come on a bit strong, but I can promise you'll like the ride. Ever heard the song "Jungle Love?"
[O] And I'm Ozzy the emu, and I'd–
[T] Shut up, Ozzy. And I told you, you're an ostrich.
[O] Oh yeah. Sorry.
[I] I'm Ivan the incubus, debonair devil extraordinaire.
[S] And I'm Sabrina the succubus, Ivan's demonic other half… not that we're at all shy about sharing.
[I] No we aren't, darling.
[S] I hardly think you need reminding what kind of ride you're in for if you decide to be our date to the Ball. But just in case you do… let's just say, we can make Hell feel like Heaven… and vice versa. (Laugh)
[Z] Alright then… and, last but hopefully not least (Laugh), I'm Zoe the zombie. I'm not really the coolest or the strongest or the boldest, but… you seem like a really sweet human. And if you'd be interested… I'd love to be your date to the Monster's Ball.
[Z] So, it's your choice. Who do you want to go with?

TLDR: Basically a rant about my sex life. Poor me right? *facepalm*
First a little about myself so you don't picture me as troll in a dungeon lol. I am 6'3", 190lbs, athletic build and work full time as an instructor and a local college.
We have been married for 8 years and have two kids. For the past 6 months our relationship has been slightly "rocky", which is odd as it had been solid for years. (We've been together for 12 years)
I have been feeling neglected and not desired, which has led to frustration on my side. When we do have sex I feel it is only because I have instigated it or because she feels bad and can tell I am frustrated. And the sex is now "plain" unless I do whatever I can to make it fun. But I know she would be more than happy for us to do the deed and then go to bed.
The past few weeks have been better but I know it is because I have been upset and she is trying to make up for it. This makes things worse as it feels not genuine, but sympathetic.
It was Halloween last night and my wife LOVES it. She got dressed up in a corset I hadn't seen in years and looked freaking sexy AF. I asked where it had been and she said "oh its just been in my drawer with the other ones". Oh, other ones. Right. I can't remember the last time I've seen anything like that.
I couldn't stop oogling her and she loved it, was smiling and winking at me. She goes out with our kids and some friends and I stayed home to hand out candy, be with our dog and scare teenagers (I have a nazgul costume thats pretty freaky). When she gets back she tells me about how they had a blast because they had jello shots, edible gummies and spiked hot chocolate so nows she's slightly drunk and high.
This annoyed me because she hasn't done ANYTHING like that for a few years. Even when I have asked her to join me and let loose a little, she hasn't because she's always training for triathlons. So now she has finally done this but didn't tell me/see if I wanted to join them.
Ok, whatever, we can still have some fun tonight, right??? Well I get the kids out of costumes, ready for bed, in bed etc. I tell her to relax and I'll take care of everything. So I get back to her and she is now out of her costume, all makeup off, in her baggy pjs and ready for bed. I was so upset. I ended up going downstairs to make everyones lunches. I also thought to myself "she's probably not feeling well".
I feel like she doesn't care about US having fun, doing wild things together any more or having a fun night when she FINALLY lets loose a little. She came downstairs and could tell right away I was upset and asked whats up. I asked if she felt ok and she said "yeah I feel fine". So I told her how I was feeling and she says "I can still put that corset on if you want". But for me now I don't even want to see that thing again. Any time I do I'll feel like its because its what she thinks I want her to do. But I want HER to want to do it. I want HER to want to be spontaneous. I don't want to feel undesired or not worthy of her attention/effort.
Again I have been feeling this way for a little while now. Things really got bad a few weeks ago when her past came up due to her mother moving and a "sex partners" list was found that she had made right before we started dating. She had gone to university and was pretty promiscuous. It was a big deal as the list was a lot biggedifferent than what she had told me when were dating. And because of how I had already been feeling about our sex life, this hit me harder then it should. I couldn't stop thinking about how she was soooooo DTF when in university, but has never been with me. *siiiggghhhh*
I know she is faithful to me and I know people change/grow up. I guess men are also "normally" more sexually driven then women (I know it can be the other way around, that may be not an accurate assumption), but I am worried this could start to make our relationship suffer even more. And the more I talk to her about it, the less I want to have sex with her because I feel like it is just sympathy sex.
I am actively seeking a therapist to help me with this stuff. I guess I'm just feeling like I need to rant a little and blow off some steam. Feeling better already...

Monday
Dimmy: “Hi poors! Thank you for all the sweet get well messages you sent me yesterday, but I was too busy going to birthday parties and stuff to read any of them. Yeah I know I was having a teary-eyed meltdown just the day before and you wondered if I would even crawl out of bed come Monday, but you can’t expect me to stay home for more than six hours at a time, can you? And we couldn’t deprive Stevie Kate of her princess moment at Stella’s party! Hopefully bootleg Elsa is up to date on her vaccines!
I also got a bunch of messages asking how Steven’s doing. He’s as pissed off as ever, but doing just fine all hopped up on sugar and painkillers. Stevie Kate and I got him a dozen donuts and four boxes of Frosted Flakes. He even went for a short walk because he can still put on his Kizik shoes even with a busted collarbone. I’ll link them up for you!
You guys, I have awesome news. I am pumped to tell you I have the biggest giveaway I’ve ever done. Me and my fake friends are giving away $18,000!! Before you get too excited about potentially winning the big prize and swipe the bar, read the fine print. We’re actually giving away $10 each to 1800 of you - enough cash to fill up your Corkcicle (use my code!) with the beverage of your choice!”
While her parents were distracted talking to their neighbor besties in their yard, Thiefie Kate slipped inside the neighbors’ house and shut herself in the pantry to raid it of yayas. A growing content tot can’t survive on just a daily ration of HLTH code, eggs, and a single blueberry after all!
Tuesday
Good morning from Stevie Kate and her giant egg! Dimmy says she’s feeling better despite her hoarse voice, but not well enough to figure out how to make Jello set for a Halloween activity for Stevie Kate. Is anyone surprised? This is the same bitch who struggled to make ice cubes from water. Someone please add eight half cups of brain cells to her head!
Dimmy is convinced her Friends acting skills are top notch, but all we can focus on is the fact that she doesn’t look like Phoebe at all, because she’s wearing Stevie Kate’s life jacket over a unitard for a “hilarious” reel.
Stevie Kate’s Halloween costume came in! Any guesses on what it is? Minnie Mouse? Wrong! A poop emoji with a monster hat? Wrong again! She’s actually the Gruffalo, the main character in her favorite children’s book. Dimmy wasn’t too excited about Stevie Costume’s pick for Halloween until she realized the costume is basically the same as the bubble outfits she loves, only in a fuzzy nuuds poop brown inspired color.
Jen begrudgingly made homemade chicken vegetable soup for her oldest child with the busted up collarbone and his under the weather housemates Kimmy Kate, or whatever their names are. Quick photo op and then it’s back to what really matters, securing dinner reservations for Golden Boy’s birthday celebration on Saturday and planning Sr’s birthday party weekend.
Wednesday
Dummy wants everyone to know he is trapped at home on Dimmy’s day off the gram and can’t escape the howler monkey talking about Britney Spears’ memoir non-stop. He’s “normally a pretty forgiving person” but the timing of the book release and his crippling injury from his accidental tumble is unfortunate. Poor wee little douche canoe!
Thursday
Stevie Chef: Good morning, I have food! I need to cook it. Dimmy: You also have pajamas that are bubblegum pink from Tones! Stevie Kate: Let’s not talk about these ugly, disgusting, too-small, stained PJs. Dimmy: Tough, you’re going to have to wear them the rest of the day! We’ll just stick a coat, bike helmet and rain boots on top of them and no one will be the wiser! Now look at that big worm! Is it cute or yucky? Stevie Kate: Yuck! But not as gross as these PJs or your greasy hair. Dimmy: Shhh the peasants are not supposed to notice my dirty hair because I have a hat on. Stevie Kate: You’re not fooling anyone, screech owl.
In case anyone’s wondering, Stevie Clog is still able to cram her feet in her too small wooden shoes from the Netherlands. They were the perfect footwear for Strand Up Kate to wear with all her other accessories yesterday.
Whataletdown the long-awaited Whataburger prank was. Dimmy halfheartedly tossed a straw Whataburger hat, vest and bows on the porch pumpkin scarecrows, some Whataburger stockings, table numbers and sacks on the porch tree and called it a day. She had also planned to hang Whataburger flags tomorrow when she had help, but plans were thwarted when Jen immediately noticed everything when she walked in the front door with Diana.
Apparently Dummy’s collarbone has healed in time to make the most unappetizing dinner of all time for a Butcher Box shill. He’s cutting up chicken nuggets with scissors to cook with eggs and steak seasoning and throw in a low carb tortilla with cheese, salsa, and anything else he can scrape off the bottom of his shoes. Use their butcher box code now to make your own disgusting slop!
Continued in comments

Author: FrostFireFive
<< < > >>
Book: New Titans
Arc: Ancient History
Set: 89
Argonaut flew into the air, Gateway City at night had a certain splendor that was hard to put into words. Compared to Metropolis which was a modern marvel, and Gotham which was an art deco maze, Gateway was like if the gods settled on the fertile western coast of America.
The white stone, columns, and sculptures made each building feel like it had always been there, and will always be. For Donna Troy, she had come to know the city more since she had moved from Chicago, away from the Titans that had been her life. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her work. After all it was her idea to reform the team, to build something better than the broken dreams of the Teen Titans and Titans before.
But that was before Markovia, before Donna could feel the life being drained out of her by Lilith. As an immortal, Donna shouldn’t have been bothered by it. Her friends had saved her and she had even managed to land some of the final blows to Lilith. But she couldn’t help but still feel the coldness, that her skin would turn back to the clay that given her life. The same skin…that Fury had. And Donna could recognize the darkness that reflected in their identical faces.
Even the warm skies of Gateway had begun to grow colder, as if the skies were telling the Amazonian golem that they did not belong to her. A feeling that was becoming harder and harder to disagree with. She had been trying to work on her next book, photos of beauty from places people ignored. But every time that Donna picked up her camera, well…she could only see the horrors of the world. And the fate of Stargirl, who still laid in her coma. For someone who was supposed to have succeeded…all Donna Troy could think of was her failures.
In her thoughts, she drifted towards the Carter Communications building, the large glass windows had blended seamlessly with the white marble facade, a directive from the architect to honor a city that had become a wonderful beacon since the arrival of it’s champion. For Donna, she just loved how the old and new combined to make something unique. But as she flew closer to the glass, she could see her reflection, the black starfield costume and golden boots of Argonaut shining brightly.
But as she looked away for a moment, the reflect changed, the familiar dark red armor and broken Amazonian theater mask staring back at her. The blackened eye holes staring deep into Donna.
“No,” Donna muttered to herself before she could see several darting images fly upward from the ground, more and more Furies with broken red arms and masks, revealing the flawed and cracking clay skin that separated the “sisters” from each other. “No, no, no.”
“What is the matter claything?” Fury said through the glass. “Don’t like what you see? Well…we can change that…”
Suddenly Fury’s hand burst through the glass, grabbing hold of Donna Troy and pulling her in. And as she began to lose consciousness, all Donna Troy could hear was the same phrase over and over again.
“Why couldn’t it be me? Why couldn’t it be me? Why couldn’t it be me?! The Furies screamed as they clawed at Donna, tearing her starfield suit and exposing her skin to the gaggle of monsters behind the glass. As they touched her, the color sapped from her, and her skin became rocky and grey, returning to the clay that Ares had created her from.
“GAH!” Donna Troy yelled out as she woke up in a cold sweat. The dreams were becoming worse ever since Markovia. As if she couldn’t escape the fact that what she thought was her story was a lie.
Donna moved to her kitchen, pouring a glass of water as she tried to affirm the truths she held close. She was meant to be a plaything of the gods, created by Ares out of clay, broke free and joined the Teen Titans. That was her story, that had always been her story. But now…now doubt was creeping in. She look towards the costume that hung on the coat rack, silver and black, twinkling like the skies above.
For the first time since Markovia, staring at the stars, Donna knew what she had to do. She grabbed her suit and walked out the door, determined to find the truth.
…
BEEP BEEP BEEP
Barbara Gordon hated those noises. The heart monitor next to her was a usual fixture when she was stuck in a sterile hospital room. The noises outside telling her that the morning shifts at Stroger General had begun once more. She had been dug out from the library bombing in Gotham, bruised with a few cuts. But because of her…spinal issues, she had to be flown out to her specialist in Chicago, just to make sure she hadn’t been set back.
The quietness in the room was unnerving, with Barbara not even bothering to turn on the television. When all they had was either the Grey Ghost or The Terror on DVD, it was better to just look at her tablet. The sunflowers on her tableside from Kara was the rare bit of color in the otherwise grey room. She was alone, as always.
She’s Young Now, She’s Wild Now, She’s Born to be Free
Barbara’s tablet’s ringtone went off as she quickly tapped the earpiece in her ear. The only people who had this number were Justice Leaguers, which meant another crisis that required Oracle or Batgirl. Whichever was needed, Barbara was itching to leap into action and get out of this room.
“Go for Oracle,” Barbara said.
“Hiya Babsie!” Harleen Quinzel exclaimed as she called from the orphanage that her and Ivy had come to call home. “Just wanted to see how ya holding up. Heard ya had a building dropped on you!”
“Just some rubble Harley,” Barbara responded as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. She had forgotten during the Punchline affair that she had given Harley Oracle’s number. Dick seemed to have faith in her, why he did Barbara didn’t know. His seal of approval didn’t carry the same weight that it used to. Especially to some clown trying to play hero. “Why are you even calling me?”
“Because we’re friends?” Harleen responded as she sat cross legged in her boxers, stitching back her suit from the vampire incident, but more importantly her eyes darted to the papers Lester, her former patient had handed to her before his unfortunate death. She was a mess, but a productive one. “Ya know I know about your…condition.”
“I’m fine, the doctor’s checked me out and everything. They just want me to have some rest is all.”
“Sure they did,” Harleen. “Did they give ya one of those paper gowns? Because those can get breezy if they took everything from ya.”
“Harley!” Babs growled.
“Hey I’m just trying to let ya avoid any full moons,” Harleen chuckled as she continued to fix up her costume. “Besides I need a favor.”
“A Batgirl favor or an Oracle favor?” Barbara asked.
“Primarily a Barbara Gordon favor, we got a mutual friend moving into a new place in Chicago, and since ya seem raring to go,” Harleen explained.
“He’s not an acrobat is he?” Barbara asked, clearly annoyed.
“Well he’s also a superhero and has a great a-” Harleen began.
“Harley!” Barbara yelled.
“What? Ya know I’m with Red, but that doesn’t mean I can’t admire,” Harleen explained. “Besides ya need to get out of the hospital, he needs someone to help move him in, it works!”
“Not a chance,” Barbara muttered, doubt in her voice. “And the other favor?”
“I need ya to look up on a Roland Dagget and that…Renyu he’s been pushing as some kinda miracle cure,” Harleen explained. “I already sent you some of the information a patient of mine had. Just…please check on it for me…will ya?” Harley’s voice was more serious than usual.
“I’ll see what I can do on the second one, but as for our friend?” Barbara began. “Don’t get your hopes up.”
“Ya, ya,” Harleen said. “Ya know for an information broker, ya a terrible liar Babsy.” She hung up and left Barbara alone.
Before the hospitalized crusader could think about what the clown had to say, her tablet roared to life once more. A police alert to a theft at the Art Institute, a local goon named Crazy Quilt. Barbara bit her lip. She shouldn’t get out of bed, but her eyes drifted to her duffle bag, and the exosuit that laid inside.
“Ms. Gordon, we have that jello and chicken piccata you like so…” An orderly said as he entered her room, only to be greeted by an empty duffle bag, a ripped paper gown on the floor, and an open window. Batgirl had work to do.
…
Donna Troy quietly moved through Titans Tower. There was some chatter about a local goon making noise, meaning Dick would be out. And from the IMs in the Titans’ group chat, Rex would be helping Star Labs study his changing condition and Kara and Kory would be going on a date, something about sparring? They were cute but weird.
Still Donna hadn’t been great keeping in contact with any of them, and as she inserted her flash drive to the tower’s mainframe, giving her access to the data she needed. The files they had on Fury were…thin at best. She had shown up only a year ago, and stolen the armor from Titans Tower. Batman had been trying to figure how she could have gotten in, but if Fury shared Donna’s face, did she share the same biometrics? The puzzle was coming together, now all that remained was going over Chloe’s files on certain…gods and their worshipers…
“Donna?” A familiar voice asked as the ex-Titan turned around to see Garth in front of her. The former King of Lemuria had been working hard with Wonder Girl to establish the Titans West. The support group and team had been doing good work creating a space where young metahumans and heroes could just talk and learn about things. Their last guest lecture with Nightwing explaining the importance of field first aid had surprisingly gone better than Garth or Cassie had expected. “I thought you were still on leave?”
“I was just…grabbing some data to help Diana with some of the other Amazonian tribes. You know how it goes,” Donna lied.
“Which Chloe could have pulled for you,” Garth said, observing the data that Donna was grabbing up on the monitors. “Dark Gods? Ares? Urzkartaga? Donna this…this is…”
“Something I need to figure out,” Donna said as she saw the data transfer complete and began to leave the room.
“You don’t need to figure it out alone you know,” Garth responded as he turned to face Donna. His Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts didn’t reflect the calming regality in his voice. Even if he didn’t want the throne, Garth understood the duty and strength that had came with it. “We’re friends.”
“I know Garth, but I have to do this alone, I have to find the truth,” Donna mumbled as she tensed her fist. She had to remember what the right amount of strength could knock someone out cold was. “And I can’t have you getting hurt.”
She swung at Garth, sending the aquatic hero to the wall of Titans Tower knocking him out cold. She had never struck a friend before. Even in Markovia, Donna had always tried finding a peaceful solution, one that benefited everyone. And in return she had been broken to her primordial form, her friends still in pain, and her all alone, like she had started.
“I’m sorry Garth…I really am,” Donna muttered before running towards the hanger, running towards her truth.
…
“Bow down before your new colorful master!” Crazy Quilt yelled out as his helmet’s three gems continued to change color as he looked at the panicked crowd around him. He was standing on a float for the Columbus Day parade. Paul Dekker had spent months planning an attack to let the city there was new colorful mastermind in town. The goons that he had hired were busy holding their guns out and robbing the politicians and high rollers that were on the “City of Progress” float ahead.
“I don’t know, I mean usually I’m more of a two-tone color kinda guy,” A voice called out as Nightwing lept from the air. Dick Grayson had just been moving into his apartment in Fulton Market when he had seen the news of this chump deciding to ruin the parade. “So what’s your whole deal here? Mom wouldn’t let you help her knit the Christmas sweaters? Dad decided that you shouldn’t be another failed art major?”
“Ah yes, coming from a failed Bat clone, making this city your home because daddy takes up too much room in Gotham,” Crazy Quilt mused as he adjust a dial on one of his gloves, the lights in his helmet focusing in intensity.
“To be fair I prefer the term former protege,” Nightwing explained as he pulled out his escrima sticks. The float ahead of them was oddly quiet for something that should have been raging with goons. “Besides, at least I’m not wearing a quilt from the retirement home.”
“It is my artist’s wardrobe, my nom de plume, and the last thing you’ll ever see!” Crazy Quilt exclaimed before a beam of light shot out from his helmet.
“Yeah, and I’m pretty sure Picasso cut his own ear off, you’re telling me that’s your inspiration?” Nightwing joked as he dodged from the blast. Guys like Crazy Quilt were the empty calories of superheroing. People like Lex Luthor? Joker? Grade A threats that you always had to keep an eye on. But someone like Crazy Quilt? Total cupcake.
“You have no idea what the glory of art requires! And it was Van Gogh you uncultured swine!” Crazy Quilt yelled out. “All this city does is take and take and take! Colors drained and replaced with steel and glass. Cold, unwelcoming structures that choke the life out of people! No more!”
“Well I’m pretty sure there’s better ways to convey that than to go floatjacking,” Nightwing explained, arming his escrima sticks with their electric charge. “I mean for god sake you’re messing with people on Indigenous Peoples day.”
“No holiday matters to the arts!” Crazy Quilt said he turned to face Nightwing, helmet glowing once more. Except instead of aiming for the acrobatic Titan, he aimed for the floor of the float. “And you’re about to find out what happens when you can’t think on your feet!”
KACHOOOM!
“SHIT!” Nightwing exclaimed as he was launched into the air, his escrima sticks flying away from his hands as Crazy Quilt lined up another shot. Nightwing saw the energy charging and closed his eyes, of all the people to finally ice him it had to be freakin’ Crazy Quilt. But before he could feel the heat of concentrated light, he felt a tug on his collar and flung in the other direction.
“You know for someone who’s been doing this a long time you still have terrible situational awareness,” Batgirl explained. She was wearing her lighter suit, gray spandex over the slimmer exoskeleton that Kara had made for her. It was like her first suit, when she was free of the burdens of her accident and past.
“Well…I’m not used to backup,” Nightwing said, taken aback by Barbara’s presence and look. All he needed was the old red and greens to complete it. “Besides, shouldn't you…be somewhere else?”
“And miss the fun? I just took down a whole float of goons and you’re struggling with this hoi polloi of a supervillain. Besides…it’s just like old times right?”
Nightwing paused for a moment as he regained his bearings and observed Crazy Quilt fuming that the two crimefighters had been more focused on each other than him.
“You think you took down all my men! Please, the color guard is many! Men! Attack!” Crazy Quilt exclaimed as more goons dressed in singular primary and secondary colors came pouring in from the crowd.
“Just like,” Nightwing smiled. “Most goons taken out buys pizza?”
“Oh you’re on,” Batgirl said with a smirk, the game was afoot.
…
“So you’re telling me Donna kicked your ass, stole a jumpjet, and is now AWOL?” Roy Harper asked as he grabbed a bag of peas from the Titans refrigerator. He had arrived at the Tower to do a shift of monitor duty, and to get away from Lian for a bit. Roy loved his daughter, but she was beginning to hit her terrible twos and Guardian had made for a great babysitter. “Are you sure you haven’t been drinking?”
“I don’t drink,” Garth muttered as he looked over his torn hawaiian shirt and scuffed knees. “And I certainly wouldn’t lie about Donna.”
“Riiiight,” Arsenal responded as he moved towards the the Titans’ main computer. “Well judging by how she only left you with a little love tap, I’m guessing she’s not exactly thinking straight.”
“Donna always thinks straight. She’s a rock. At least until she started leading this group,” Garth responded.
“Yeah and how many times have you visited her since Markovia?” Roy asked after hearing the disdain in Garth’s voice. He had heard about the horror stories of Garth’s time with the team. The rumors ranged from Batman planting a tracking chip in the poor kid to Wally not understanding of how different Garth was compared to everyone else. Roy could see he was of pure heart, but also someone who idealized the Titans’ fearless leader.
“She said she was fine,” Garth said. “And me and Cassie have been so busy with the foundation. We just…assumed we would make time eventually.”
“Yeah, well you weren’t there,” Roy said as he looked at the data in front of him. “Now let’s see what you were pulling here Donna.”
“I was dealing with my own issues,” Garth explained. “Abdicating the throne, building Titans West, we fought back the vampires in your stead!” His anger coming through.
“Yeah and that’s hero bullshit,” Roy explained. “We all come together and deal with whatever horrible thing wants to rule the world. But you don’t exactly get to lecture me on being there. We lost a lot that day. And Donna got to watch every single moment of it. You don’t think that would fuck her up? Break that rock that you so clearly love to take advantage of. Sometimes the strongest can fall too fish boy.”
“Where were you then!” Garth exclaimed. He was tired of feeling passive when it came to his friends and place in this world. And he wasn’t going to let some Green Arrow knock off shame him for not being there. “Donna moved heaven and hell to help you get your kid back, and what happened after Markovia? You left her to go be a hero.”
“It’s not…it is like that isn’t that,” Roy mumbled, before looking at Garth. Part of him was jealous of the former king. He got to grow up with Donna, Dick, Wally. Maybe in another world they would have accepted Green Arrow’s weird sidekick. But they were here now, and Roy needed all the help he could get. “You’re right, I’ve made mistakes. Dropped the ball on a friend. And I shouldn’t take it out on you.”
Garth nodded before speaking again.
“It’s fine. We’re here now, that’s what matters,” Garth said calmly.
Roy continued to pull up the data, his eyes darting between reports of someone called Savage Fire, and connections to a certain feline foe of Wonder Woman. And more concerningly the schematics on where the DEO was holding her.
“Shit,” Roy muttered as he grabbed his bow and quiver and began to prepare to head out. “Donna’s about to break everything to find her answers. And unfortunately the only people that can pull her out of it here are you and me.”
“Then it’ll have to be enough,” Garth explained.
“Yeah, I’m not sure what a guy in a Hawaiian shirt and an archer can do,” Arsenal explained.
“I’m more than just…a fish boy,” Garth explained before touching the blue stone on the bracelet on his wrist. A typhoon of water came out of nowhere, covering Garth before quickly fading away. Gone was the Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts, in their place was sleeveless blue scalemail and navy leggings with fins on the calf. “I am the Tempest that will save my friend. Now where must we go?”
“Oh nowhere major, just Stonegate Prison,” Arsenal said.
…
“You just had to get pizza with anchovies, garlic, and banana peppers?” Batgirl groaned as she looked down from the Tribune Tower. The gothic architecture filled with ornate stone carvings and gargoyles stood out from the rest of the Chicago skyline and after Batgirl and Nightwing managed to take out Crazy Quilt and his pallet of goons, there was only the quiet that remained.
“I like what I like,” Nightwing explained as he finished his slice. Besides, didn’t you get the cauliflower crust with cheese?”
“It’s healthier,” Batgirl explained as she practiced balancing on the edge of the roof of the building. “Some of us need to save carbs.”
“Uh huh,” Nightwing mumbled as he looked over Barbara. Even now she was so afraid of not looking perfect. And all Nightwing was trying to do was not stare. Not when Barbara was in that suit. “Some of us should be in hospitals too.”
“Whaaaaat,” Batgirl said, realizing that reality was creeping back into the conversation. “They discharged me, and I saw you needed help.”
“Crazy Quilt is a cupcake,” Nightwing explained as he finished his pizza and easily hopping on the edge of the building with Batgirl. “I didn’t even put in a distress call to the Titans network. Which means someone was looking for an excuse to leave early.”
“So?” Batgirl mused. “Haven’t I earned the right to have a little fun?”
“You do,” Nightwing muttered as he looked out at the city below. Chicago was different from Gotham, a place where Dick Grayson could escape the mistakes of his past. Like leading two of his best friends into an obvious trap, and putting one of them in the position of shooting the girl he loved. Jason, Barbara, they never blamed Dick. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t one of the many nightmares that kept him up at night. “It’s just…this isn’t Gotham.”
“And how’s that?” Batgirl said as she inched closer and closer, her steps steady as she walked towards the acrobat. Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon had been ghosts to each other, people who vanished when they needed them most. But up on this rooftop, the thrill of defeating Crazy Quilt, well it was like no time had passed at all. “Because last time I checked…we’re both still here.”
Barbara had moved close, her hands tracing the bright yellow of Nightwing’s costume, as if she was staring into Dick Grayson’s soul. To see if he was still the same boy she had loved, all those years ago.
“Babs,” Dick muttered as he could feel her breath, her warmth. For years Dick Grayson always assumed his path would be a lonely one. He had lost the Titans, he had lost himself, he had lost her. And there’s only so much one could lose before losing hope entirely.
“Don’t,” Barbara muttered, her hand on his face. “Let this happen…just this once,” she muttered before kissing him, the two embracing for the first time.
…
Getting into Stonegate was easy with Justice League access, yet Donna Troy felt uneasy as the elevator slowly began to descend. Stonegate as a prison was one of the few maxinum security prisons that could hold the supercriminals that had increasingly appeared since Superman’s arrival all those years ago. However, unlike Stryker’s Island or Blackgate, Stonegate was older. A former army fort converted into a prison, and one where the stone slabs seemed to smother any light.
BOOM!
“What the?” Donna asked as the elevator shook and the red lights in the cab began to flash. Surely Garth hadn’t been able to track her, she wasn’t even doing anything illegal…just talking to one of the many prisoners.
“Argonaut? Is it Argonaut?” A voice said through the intercom. “This is the Warden, we just had something hit us hard. We think…we think they’re looking for the same prisoner. Could yo-”
“I’ll take a look," Donna said as the elevator made the final stop in the basement of Stonegate. The basement was a newer feature…for the more magical guests that had made their way there. But Donna didn’t care about the laundry list of magical monsters as she flew as fast as possible to the end of the hallway. One cell had its doors ripped off and a familiar figure holding up Barbara Minerva, the Cheetah, in her hand.
“Hello Donna,” Fury said.
NEXT: Donna Troy vs Fury for the Fate of the Cheetah! But Just Why Does Donna Want Her? And Will Tempest and Arsenal Be Too Late to Pull Anything From the Rubble? While Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon Face Uncomfortable Truths!

My three year old announced he wanted to be The Man in the Yellow Hat for Halloween this year. His Curious George plush is his favorite, and he takes it with him everywhere. Single mama here, now racking my brain for a costume of my own that would align with this theme. Note: I really don’t want to be a banana 😆 I have considered Professor Wiseman, who, in the cartoon airing these days, is the man in the yellow hat’s friend and a female scientist (but I feel like unless someone is a fairly dedicated viewer of the show they will have absolutely no idea who that is! Costume would basically be a white lab coat). I consulted ChatGPT on this quandary already, too, and it suggested a costume based on a play on words such as “woman in a red dress” or “man in a jello hat.” Hah. I’m stumped. Anyone out there have any ideas, or should I scrap the notion of a theme and dress as something else entirely?

So. My cousin's husband, named Tommy no less, once drove me somewhere. Just me and him. And that guy jammed polka. Nothing but polka. And he was into it like I'm into Bad Religion. If you're inna car with me you may find that even though I know most of the lyrics, it does not mean I can sing. Also, you'll probably guess I play guitar. Or have some sort of palsy in advanced stages, nerve damage and am close tooa stoke. Because my both my hands are moving in different ways and my right arm is kind of doing that Billie Joe Armstrong from Green Day thing. Not quite as pronounced. He's got his elbow up to jaw level most of the time. And I'm sending Morse Code on the accelerator pedal. That's how much this AARP member who clearly didn't share my views on anything was into polka. By the time we got from my mom's cousin's house in Schertz (that would make her still my cousin er something, right? But, since I'm from Texas totally acceptable to have sex with, right?) to my parents' property on what would become the Cibolo city limit, that guy was naming off each track, and fast forwarding the cassette to the best parts of each one before getting to the next one. It wasn't a commercial release, either. It wassa blank mixtape of nothing but hardcore polka. The hardest of the hardcore polka. And every song title ended with the word polka. Every single one. Beer Barrel Polka. Drunken Fistfight Polka. Cigarettes In Wastebin Polka. Accordions Are Heavy Polka. More Beer Polka. And my favorite cover - Too Drunk To Fuck Polka. It wasn't the only time I ever saw that guy, but it was the only time we ever spoke. In fact, I'm not sure I actually ever said anything. As soon as we got in his vehicle he did the exact same thing I did first in mine - immediately after fastening seat belt reaching to the center of the dash and turning up the volume, then choosing what the soundtrack that fit the scene was. Then shift into reverse. Upon forward motion in street, forget you are driving. My chaffuer's custom mix that day was at least one solid hour of My Polka Is Harder Core Than Yours. The average beat per minute was almost exactly the same as the average Bad Religion song, maybe 150-170 BPM. I didn't even think about it. I removed a guitar pick from the assortment I carried in the full bill size leather chain wallet my grandmother got me atta flea market for my 13th birthday and started hitting the chain links at my thigh pocket much like one would the bar button onna Guitar Hero controller. Polka Man had his own movements - a sort of two handed pulling upward motion that was synced much like the upstroke inna reggae riff. Felt atta time off of the downbeat. Which is not what anyone actually playing the recorded instruments was doing, but issa sort of psychsomatic effect offa genre-specific high pitch in the standard polka, um, groove? Issthata groove? I'm not sure what that's referred to as, but it probably has a hard consonant sound in German. The motion I was making did not fit the recorded instruments either. I was beating the shit out of an imaginary electric guitar using nothing but downstrokes atta tiring, cramping pace. Both of us were locked into the implied uh, polyrhythms (?) that would have worked had we been innon that recording session. That was the only time I ever saw that guy with a look on his face that didn't express he thought everything in the world was shit. Come to think offit, I'm pretty sure he didn't say anything except the names in English of each track, all of which were sung in German.
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I have a friend who specializes in listening to what I think of as the lowest common denominator of any and every genre. I try to do the opposite - find the real defining champions of each specialized type. Not this guy. I am not being insulting when I describe his idiosyncratic audio quest either. More like describing his preference for the absolute most stripped down to the essence with the utmost minimum of tools to do the job. He was the first person to inform me that there was so much other music to listen to besides what was played on the radio, especially my parents' radios. I was eight or nine and I always carried a Walkman©®™ or equivalent, even to school, which wasn't allowed. I was in all the nerdiest classes, and the principals were always in the hallways somewhere else. From first to ninth grade, when I stopped attending the public schools, I have one lunch detention in fifth grade for holding up three fingers to a fellow classmate and telling her to read between the lines. My homeroom teacher caught that. Little kids are like that when they like each other and don't have the clearance of puberty to express it properly. I hit puberty way earlier than allot of my entire grade. Shaving by twelve and outgrown my dad's clothes by the next year. I was joking around in the hallway and speaking tooa girl I liked named Deanna Dolford, who would unfortunately move away to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, where I had just been for four years. She was the cutest and smartest and coolest girl in my classes, most of whom I already felt isolated from. Getting caught wearing headphones meant confiscation and whatever else the cranky adult who obviously liked spanking children with a cricket bat drilled with holes for less wind resistance could think of. Which deterred me absolutely not at all. Even by fifth grade I was already wearing as much black clothing assi could, having no real control over my wardrobe, and generally refusing to cut my hair for as long as possible. Except for three or four girls that had also begun encroaching on adulthood, there was none of my classmates usually that I wanted to be in the same building with, much less talk to. Headphones werra must, and I amused myself by wearing them as much as possible openly without getting spotted by the Fun Police. The bus drivers never gave a shit, and my bus was always the first to get to school and the last to leave, more thanan hour each time, because I lived in unincorporated land outside the city limits. It was on bus 29 in the morning that officially my path in life was bestowed. My buddy Adrean, two or three years older than me, brought two cassettes that changed my life. The Dead Kennedys' Give Me Convenience Or Give Me Death album and GWAR, the album with Slaughterama onnit. That song in particular and Dear Abby on the other one I distinctly recall as being the songs that were the first I heard on each. I am currently forty-four years old and there issa round Dead Kennedys logo sticker on the top of my external sound card/recording interface. Not only was the content of the lyrics completely different from anything I'd ever heard anyone ever say inna song, but every aspect of the audio accompanying was utterly alien. Both of these albums were recorded atta time when recording anything at all, even tooa blank cassette tape, was expensive. To say that these bands are an acquired taste is so much offan understatement. I still tell myself that DK just couldn't afford to make their albums sound good. Because certainly that wasn't what they really wanted it to sound like, right? Who the fuck would plug the whole band into a cassette boombox aux input and adjust the three band EQ so that the treble knob was all the way up and the bass and mids were all the way down? No one would ever do that on purpose. That would make your band sound....oh. Right. Punk rock. The band members of GWAR wore gigantic foam latex full body costumes and had names like Balzac- The Jaws of Death, Slymenstra Hymen, and Oderus Urungus. I would later on that week watch an hour long VHS tape of theirs where the music was presented assa full length movie of sorts with something offa plot and story connecting the songs, which centered on the singer Oderus hunting down his ambulatory severed penis, itself named The Cuttlefish Of Cthulhu. Slaughterama wassa gameshow where a question answered incorrectly resulted in the murder of the contestant. My favorite part was when " another skinhead straight from Hitler's ass " gets his head blown off with a shotgun. Dear Abby is about a " decent, hardworking county coroner " who " can't afford to feed his family " due to Ronald Reagan's trickle-down economy, so he writes the popular newspaper advice columnist and divulges that he's been supplimenting his family's protein intake with human flesh " mixed with Tuna Helper - and ta da! " Abby tells him that as long as the meals are blessed by his priest that " everything will be just fine. " Bon Jovi and C&C Music Factory never said anything remotely like that. Jello Biafra's vocal delivery is still bizarre. No one else chooses to do that in front offa microphone. Its the equivalent of sticking your thumbs in your ears and wiggling your fingers on the side of your head while blowing a raspberry. A mockery of singing itself.
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I am currently staying atta compartment technically in walking distance from this guy. He wears Cattle Decapitation shirts to his job at Brake Check telling the rest of the workers what to do and getting commission off their greasy labors. A full one-third of the appliances in his house were complimentary gifts from Snap-On (ever hadda Snap-On smoothie?) and his locking, GPS tracked, named after a girl like a Cabbage Patch Kid toolchest (Brylee, and no, its nottan option to choose or change that) contains drawer after drawer of lifetime warrantied things that get the job done without having to improvise.
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Last time I was riding in his car we were jamming the first two Rancid albums. (Yes. I am aware that no one jams music anymore. And no. I'm not bringing it back. We're just so much more uncool than you that you'll never reach this level of uncoolness even if you take classes. The narrator nyah nyahs in Jello Biafra's voice.) In case you aren't familiar, the main singer of the band Rancid, Tim " Lint " Armstrong, sings like Ozzy Osbourne speaks. To this day. Rancid is still making albums as far as I know, and he's been in at least half a dozen other bands as well - always as a singer as well as playing an instrument. You cannot mistake him for someone else. No one. Has ever. Sounded like this guy. And decided. From a teenage age. To continuously make vocal recordings. And then sell them. With videos. Lots of them. One of the most fucking prolific recording artists in fucking history. He's been on as many albums as Lance Hendrickson has been in movies. And if you have watched ten or more films in your lifetime, you have seen Lance Hendrickson. If I point him out, you'll slap your forehead and be like, " No, shit! " And then I'll tell you this - that BadMotherFucker was illiterate until his forties. He issin at least a supporting role in two films currently in theaters. In the beginning, there was Lance and Keith Richards. They rode dinosaurs. Not to anywhere. There was before there was places. Seriously. Last time I checked he had been in over 70 films. That was a while ago. You have seen at least one of these films. Its impossible you haven't unless you don't have eyes. And until his mid-forties he couldn't read. Think about that. He's an actor. He gets paid to pretend he's someone else. Really hard. Not only that, but he also doesn't get to choose what he says as someone else. Directors are really specific on that in the contracts. That is unfuckingbelievable. Not only did he have to memorize someone else's words - allot of them - but he had to memorize someone else reading someone else's words out loud. And then make it all his own so we believe him. You try doing it that way for one thirty second cereal commercial. You'll wind up being the one eating all that bright white Elmer's glue in the bowl spoonful after spoonful, take after take.
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Tim is of the same philosophical school. He's gonna be the singer inna band. Not one day. Right now. I shit you not. At one point in time its absolutely possible he got on stage with completely different bands, maybe even in different time zones, four out of seven days a week. All summer long. Not to say he was only a member of four bands, just there's only so fast planes can fly. It takes a whole week to get to gigs in Los Angeles, Boston, Rio de Janeiro, Rome, and Madrid. Almost made it five this week. Shit. 12" rainbow colored liberty spike mohawks are labor intensive. You ever try to hunt down egg whites and variety packs of Kool-Aid inna country where you don't speak the language? We're not Journey. There's no crystal etched bowl of only grape Skittles in our dressing room. No one at the customs counter at any airport ever sees us and just waves us through, man. We have to do all of our drugs before we get on the plane, man. TSA is not into solid metal, hand-filed to jagged sharks teeth studs on medieval leather jackets onna summer tour in Australia either, man. We have our Doc Martens off, in our hands, IDs and Passports clipped to the chains running between our nostrils and central ear canals.
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These are not examples of people who don't give a fuck.
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These are examples of people who give more fucks than you've ever had.
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You cannot show up late and cut out at lunchtime if you want something that is important. Something that matters. Something that has your picture on the open folder icon.
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Are you alive? Are you sure?
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If I asked someone else, would they shrug, yawn, or keep walking?
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Do you want anything?
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How long did it take you to answer that?
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By the way. Don't ever call Lance Hendrickson a pretender. Even if you're not in the same time zone. He will find you. Quickly. And he will. Fuck. You. Up. And his pet dinosaur, who also hassan Academy Award statue dated before you were born, will shit out your UV plastic coated teeth on the neatly manicured sod by the sparkling Elmer's glue white sidewalk on Main St.