i'm working on a novel and would like to know if anyone could tell me any improvements i could make to the first chapter and prologue
Prologue
The day had started the same way it had for the past two years. The only difference was that I was going home. The hallway was crowded with people walking to and from their classes. Everyone was crowded next to each other so the halls were making the area feel claustrophobic. All the people talking mixed with the summer heat made me feel like I was locked in a sauna. I walked with Preston to the last class we would ever have together and as usual he was smiling. I never got why he always smiled even in situations where people should be sad he still smiled. He knew what today meant for me and he tried to keep light of the situation. I kept my head down away from what was ahead of me. My mind was too clouded about returning to see my family to notice anything in front of me. I walked into another student. It felt like I had walked into a wall. I knew immediately I had walked into tree. I stumble onto the ground and the commotion around me slows down to make room for us. He turned his bulky body around and apologized profusely without saying a word even though I had walked into him. He helped me off of the ground before hurrying down the hall.
“Alexandria, are you doing okay?” Preston said he had tilted his body downward so I had to look down to look him in his eyes. The way he was standing made him look like an idiot but he didn't seem to care. The way he acted made me laugh, which caused his smile to widen.
“I'm doing fine, just got lost in my head.”
“Thinking about how you’ll leave soon,” he said
“Was it that obvious?” He was the only person I told about me being an exchange student. I came to spend high school in Newkinawa and he was the only person I ever hung out with.
“I see what you mean,” he said “Newkinawa is a beautiful place with beautiful people to live in it…myself included”
“You wish,” I say with a smile we continue walking through the hallway “I'm just not excited to go back yet”
After I say that his smile grows wider “So you will miss me after all”
“I wouldn't say that much” I responded whilst smiling.
We had made it to our last class only to see it closed with a sign labeled “Uma incident” Uma was a student known for messing with the chemistry lab and destroying school property in the process. I've never actually met her but Preston says “She's a little weird but still nice”
“Guess class is canceled for today,” Preston remarked with a smile “Wanna go out to the court till the bell rings.”
“Sure let's go” I respond
The place we ate every day was outside. It used to be a tennis court before I moved in. Now they put trees and flowers all over the place. Preston really liked the blue color of the flowers but it just never clicked for me. I look over at Preston and he's staring up at the sky. There are a number of clouds in almost enough to block the sun but it still pokes its rays through and lands on Preston's face. The clouds swim in front of the sun till they block out the sun's light. Preston faces towards me.
“I'm gonna miss you Alexandria” he says
“You know you can just call me Alex,” I replied. I start to smile again. “I'll miss you too!" He smiles toward me again as we get up to leave as the clouds start to clump together and rain slowly falls. As we're walking back to the school there's a loud tearing sound followed by screams as the ground shakes.
The ground tears itself apart as the dirt and stone erupt from the ground. The sky blackens and a pale blue light escapes the earth. Then creatures erupt from the ground in a violent ejection from the earth creating a white pillar diffusing as they reach higher in the air. Some are clawing their way out of the cracks like maggots out of a corpse. People are swept into the updraft screaming for their lives.
The creatures descend like a tidal wave and tear apart any people caught in their path. They storm out of the crack in hundreds as more cracks in the earth form. Me and Preston started running away as people were screaming behind us. A girl running next to us has her legs slashed by a creature. The monster begins to tear open her chest as she chokes on her own blood. The monster shovels her lungs and innards into its decrepit mouth. Me and Preston keep running until we're met at the entrance of the school and we catch the attention of a monster as it begins to savagely rush toward us. The monster resembles ghosts my father told me about. But this one looks monstrously horrific. It floats in the air and opens its mouth so wide it nearly replaces its entire torso; its jaws hold savage teeth each the same old gray color of its body. Its eyes glow a rotten yellow color through the dark. It stretches out its arms showing its giant hands and claws like fingers. It swipes at us leaving a giant claw mark on the door behind us but Preston ducks my body down to avoid the attack. We run around it as the monster swaps its focus to another bystander. Screaming past us. Me and Preston run into the parking lot as people scream around us. We hide next to a car.
“What the hell is happening!?” I yell to Preston. More of the creatures fly over us and swoop down to people like vultures on roadkill devouring the fleeing people.
Preston starts to breathe heavily ”we need to get out of here and someplace safer”. As we were talking one of the monster phases through the car we were hiding next to forcing us to run into the street.
“Lets go to your house till things cool down” i say to Preston through panted breaths
“Wait couldn't we head to your house instead” Preston says.
“Why would that matter your house is closer anyways” i respond
“But-” Preston is interrupted by two creatures swooping above us to grab another person. The two monsters begin to pull the person apart while he writhes in pain before having his flesh be torn in half and having his organs be devoured.
“Come on lets go!!” I say as I grab his hand and run even faster.
By the time we reach Preston's house any living person is gone. On the street are just corpses laying torn and mutilated on the roads and sidewalk. The air in the neighborhood feels cold despite the season being summer. When I walk down the street I can still hear the occasional horrific wail the monsters give off. We move closer to Preston's house and I can see him sweating. He looked more worried than before when the creatures were chasing us and he kept darting his eyes away from his home.
“Preston, are you feeling okay?” he doesn't respond to my question and keeps darting his eyes. He walks slowly behind me and as I reach for the door handle and when I touch it it feels nearly freezing. I wrap my hoodie around my hand and slowly open the door. The house is quiet so me and Preston creep further into his house. The inside is cold and damp as if we were locked in a freezer. The further we move into the house the louder a subtle chewing sound is heard.
“It sounds like rats are eating a dead cow over there” I whisper. Preston continues to stay silent behind me. We slowly walk closer towards the kitchen and the sound gets louder and louder and louder until we reach the room.
We're met with a rancid smell of vomit and blood. My blood starts to run cold and every instinct in my body is telling me to run. I can feel Preston breathing get heavier as we get closer. We turn the corner and see Preston's mom lying on the ground dead with one of the creatures hunched over slurping her intestines. The sight causes me to vomit alerting the monster to our presence. The creature turns around and its mouth turns into a mortifying grin as it flies into Preston's moms body. The corpse begins to rise and spur splashing blood over the kitchen. When the corpse stops spasming it picks itself up from the ground and with glazed over eyes it holds its intestines in its hand and gives us the same grin it did when it was outside her body. The possessed corpse lunges at me and starts to chase me around the kitchen. The body is running into the walls and cabinets spraying its blood and other loose organs around the area as I'm avoiding its assault. The corpse leans over and ejects one of its loose intestines towards me, wrapping me in it. It pulls me towards it so fast I'm flung towards the ground. The corpse limbers over to me and raises its free hand aiming for my head. The creature's deranged smile causes the corpse’s cheeks to tear apart. It places both of its bloodied and demented hands on my face and starts to press my skull into the ground. I struggle to breathe. The room starts to get dark and blood escapes my head.
Until Preston jumps on top of his mothers corpse with a kitchen knife and repeatedly stabs it in the head. The possessed body tries to shake him off but he keeps stabbing, blood gets in on his face and tears start to escape his eyes. The creature violently ejects from the corpse's mouth causing her head to nearly explode and Preston stops stabbing the body. The body falls over in a splash of blood and organs. The monster leaves phasing through the roof leaving Preston crying over his mother's body. As the blood mixes with the tears he collapses to his knees crying. I walk over and hug him as the air around us turns bitter and the chill of death leaves the room and us with it.
Chapter 1 Eclipse
It's been 2 months since the apocalypse started. We've kept ourselves alive by looting grocery stores and houses, we hide from the creatures as we have no way to fight back against them. Preston came up with the idea to call them glanter’s. He’s looking better since we left his family home but I can tell something is wrong with him that he's not telling me. Everytime I ask him about it he tells me it's no big deal. I asked him earlier today and he just told me
“don't worry about it, I'm over it” without even looking at me. Now we're walking through the street and I'm walking behind Preston, I can barely see his head past the giant bag we're both carrying on our backs we use to carry supplies. I look up at the sky and it's still pitch black except for the moon giving us any amount of light. Preston turns around to face me.
“Let's check out that house, it might have some cool stuff in it” he points to a white house to our right. The house is a two story building with steps leading to the front door. There's a generator poking out from the backyard. The driveway is empty save for a couple of dried blood stains and tire marks. It's similar to the other houses in the neighborhood except for a couple broken windows.
“Sure why not” We head over to the house and I see something shining on the side of the house in the corner of my eye. I turn my head to look at it closer but it quickly disappears before I can see it clearly.
“Probably squirrel or something” I mumble to myself. Preston walks up the stairs to the house and I walk up the steps behind him as a breeze blows past my face. Preston tries to turn the door knob but the door is locked. I start to pull out a lockpick I grabbed at the store earlier. I motion towards Preston to move out of the way as I kneel down to pick the lock. It takes me a couple of minutes to unlock the door so I walk inside the house and Preston follows behind me while closing and locking the door. The doorway of the house leads to a dark room so I take a flashlight out of my bag to illuminate the area. Were put into the living room and bookshelves are on the walls and a large TV sat in front of a large black couch with smaller chairs surrounding it. Dust is covering every surface of the room and spiderwebs litter the corners of the walls. The area smells like moth balls and there's a lack of blood anywhere nearby.
“Guess the owners got out before the Glanter’s got in, '' I say to Preston. When he doesn't respond I turn around and he's already looking further into the house. When I find him he's managed to find a flight of stairs that lead to a lower portion of the house.
“I'll check on him later,” I think to myself as I headed towards the kitchen to see if we could restock on food. I walk past a bedroom and remark on how childish it looked. The walls were painted with blue and green stripes and a bunk bed sat on the right wall. There's a chest at the foot of the bed so I walk over and lift the top off of it. The box is layered with children's toys, a multitude of dolls, bears, and figures all jut out of the box. I notice a small robot toy and inspect it in my hands.
The cold metal makes my hand shiver and the sharp body shape makes the robot bigger than my hand. There's red lining around the robot's buttons surrounded by the cold gray of the robot's “skin”. It reminds me of a toy my little brother had. My heart feels heavy as I worry about what happened to my family. If they're alive, dead, or worse…possessed. The thoughts send a chill down my spine but I push them aside for now. I put the toy in my bag and exit the bedroom.
I can see the kitchen is down the hallway so I walk down the hall and enter. The kitchen is pretty clean except for a couple of dishes in the sink and the dust. There's a table seated for 3 people in the center of the room. I start opening the cabinets in search for any food or water. There's boxes of cereal leftover on top of shelves and a mix of chip bags and cookies in neat boxes stationed in the cabinets.
“Score,” I say to myself as I begin to put the snacks into my bag. When the cabinets are empty I look inside the fridge. The inside of the fridge ran out of power so most of the food inside is rotted. There are a couple of bottles of water in the front so I shove those in my bag. There's also a bag of oranges that still seem to be healthy in the back. I grab them and toss them on the table. There's rotten sandwich meat hidden in the drawer of the fridge.it smells like a dumpster outside of a butcher shop. I wrinkle my nose at the smell. I look around the kitchen for any bread with no luck.
I continue to look through the fridge until I hear Preston scream from another room. Immediately I bolt out of the kitchen leaving my bag behind and run towards the lower part of the house. I run down the stairs and nearly trip on the steps. The stairs lead to a big room. There are posters to tv shows and movies I don't recognize. The walls are painted black and there's a bear skin rug on the floor. I notice Preston standing next to a really big TV hyperventilating. I walk over to him and ask him.
“Are you ok? What happened?”
He talks through deep breaths “I… saw a… spider.”
“What?!” I respond in confusion.
“It was really big and I had jumped at my face”
“Sure it was.” I say while laughing “Let's go upstairs there's some food in the fridge we can eat”
“Wait, I think you should check this out.” He says while pointing towards one of the walls. I grab Preston's flashlight off the floor and face it towards the wall. Hanging halfway off the wall is a large map labeled Newkiwana scavenger hunt of 76.
“I think we should take it,” Preston says “You can read a map right?”
“A little but I'm not the best at it,” I say to him “can you read a map?”
“it shouldn’t be too hard it’s mainly pictures any way I'm sure I can figure it out”
I walk over to the wall where the map is hung there are trophies covering tables and shelved in their own personal cases one of them reads “1st place 100-meter swimming competition for 1986 Zack Hemmingway” and another one reads “2nd place 100-meter swimming competition for 1989 Zack Hemmingway”
“Guess this guy really liked swimming,” Preston remarks while staring at a wall of newspaper clippings. All of them are about the same person in swimming competitions. All labeled different things like “a new record for Zack “the dolphin” Hemmingway”,
‘Zach Hemmingway our star plans for the future” all the newspapers are about this kind he has paler skin and a bulky enough build to swim pretty well. Most of the pictures have him coming out of the water in a pool, his long black hair soaked and sitting at his shoulders. Another one has him sitting at a desk over a pile of books and his hair in a knot , “vicious wipeout ends the Dolphins career”, and “ex-swim champ Zack Hemmingway found in a drunken stupor outside strip club.
“Everyone has their own hobbies I guess,” I say as I take the map off of the wall and fold it up. “Sucks what happened to Zack though” I walked over to Preston’s bag and put the rolled map in one of the pockets. I walk back up the stairs and Preston grabs his bag and follows behind me.
We make our way towards the kitchen and Preston starts looking through the fridge for anything to eat. I grab an orange from the table and throw it at his head. The fruit bounces off his head and rolls on the floor. He turns around and grabs the fruit from the floor
“Why did you throw an orange at me?”
“It's the only food we have unless you plan on eating spoiled a sandwich“ He starts to peel it while walking towards the table. We both take a seat and start to eat the oranges from the bag. He plants his feet on top of the table and bites into the fully peeled orange. I grab a water bottle from a bag and start to drink from it as Preston says.
“I saw a dvd player in that man cave downstairs we could watch a movie if it still has power”
“Sure it could be fun.” Me and Preston spend the rest of our time eating until the bag of oranges is emptied and we head back downstairs. Preston grabs the DVD player from under the table and blows the dust off the top of it; he plugs it into the wall as I plop myself onto the couch. He plugs the DVD player into the TV and sits on the recliner next to me. He presses a few buttons on the remote and the TV lights up. I squint my eyes at how bright it is. It's the most amount of light I've seen that didn't come from a flashlight. I notice there's a box filled with DVDs. I pull the box over towards me. I ruffle through the box and see movies like Silence of the Lambs, Terminator 2, and Home alone.
“Dude some of these came out just before the world turned inside out” I say to him.
“Really? Let's play one.” He responds. I toss him Terminator 2 and he puts it into the DVD player.
We spend the next couple hours watching movies and laughing together. It's some of our only moments of peace we’ve had since the end of the world and to me it's the most fun I've had yet. We're putting in the next DVD when there's a loud crash outside and the TV shuts off. Preston goes behind it to see if it's still plugged in.
“I think the generator outside is busted” i say
“It seems that way” Preston replies while backing away from the tv” i'm gonna go check it out”
“Don't worry I got it” I say as I hop out of my chair. Preston waves goodbye as I head up the stairs. I make my way back through the hallway leading to the living room and front door. I reach the door and start to turn the knob. I open the door wide as a car speeds down the street. I step out of the door to see what had happened when I hear the screech of a glanter. It cuts through the sky like an unholy opera singer. A group of them fly by and chase the car as I rush back inside the house. I slam the door shut and look through the window as I see a couple of smaller glanters grab and shake the car violently looking for the driver. They tear at it, ripping off doors and breaking the windows. The driver screams as the seats cover with blood and he's ripped out of the car as multiple smaller glanters tear and bite off parts of his body like piranha's until his body is completely devoured. I run back to the man cave to warn Preston about what had happened. I spot him laying in his chair spinning a DVD disc on his finger.
“It's not safe outside right now”
“Why not?
“There's glanter's outside, they just ate a dude in his car”
“Did they see you come inside?”
“I don't think so , they flew off before I went inside.”
“well we're not dead so I'm gonna say they didn't see you. But let's stay here for a couple more hours just to be safe”
“Sounds good i'm gonna go find the master bedroom.” I start to walk back up the stairs to the house
“ Hold on why do you get the master bedroom” Preston says while walking after me.
“Because I'm gonna find it first” I say as I start to run to find the bedroom. He chases after me in pursuit of the bedroom. Me and Preston run around the house looking for the master bedroom. We look through room after room finding closets, the garage, a bathroom and a door leading to a balcony in the back of the house. I manage to run into the bedroom and yell out to Preston.``Found it!!”
He comes walking into the room breathing heavily from the running. We both check out the room. The walls are painted a cream yellow and the bed takes up most of the room's center. The bed has burgundy sheets poking out from its bottom and a quilt with multi-colored floral designs lay sprawled out on top of it. There's a wardrobe built into the wall and a black leather couch sits comfortably on the left wall.
“Dibs on the bed” I say as I jump on top of it. I stretch out on top of the quilt and search for a comfortable part to sleep in.
“Where am I supposed to sleep then?” Preston complains
“You can sleep on the couch it looks soft enough” I respond while pointing towards the couch “I saw some spare blankets in one of the closets”
“Alright i’ll be right back” he mumbles to himself “why do i always get the couch”
“ I'll be right here if you need me,” i call after him. I sit up on the bed and start to look around the room more. I notice the entrance to the wardrobe is cracked open slightly. I hop out of the bed and grab a flashlight from my bag as I walk into the wardrobe. I turn on my flashlight and stare in awe at how many clothes are in there. The room is only half as big as the bedroom but it's still bigger than any closet I've ever had. The wardrobe is full of shirts, dresses, pants, and shoes for men and women. I immediately start to look through the shoes to see if any fit my size. I throw a pair of black high heels behind me as Preston finds me in the wardrobe. He looks around before asking me.
“What are you doing?”
“Finding a new pair of clothes to wear cause I've been wearing the same pair of jeans for waaaaay too long”
“Fair enough. Is there any guy stuff in there?”
“Yeah right there” I hook my thumb behind me to point to the other end of the closet.
“I'm sure they won't mind if we take a couple of things…they're probably dead by now anyways,” Preston says with a slight grin on his face. The way he said made me spin my head to look at him but he was already on the opposite end of the wardrobe looking at suits.
I shake away the thought and continue looking for any pair of sneakers in my size. 40 minutes pass before I walk out of the wardrobe holding a new pair of jeans and a black guns-N-roses t-shirt. I toss the clothes on top of the bed and check to see if the shower in the bathroom still works. I turn the dial and wait for a moment. The shower head chokes a little before water comes pouring out. I reach my hand under the showerhead to feel the water. The water is cold, it causes my hand to shiver when I take it out. I shake the water off and say to myself.
“Good enough” as I start to take off my old clothes and get in the shower. The cold water bounces off my skin, it sends shivers down my spine but I still get the old dirt from the last few months off of me. I step out and see a couple of dry towels hanging off of the door. I grab one and dry my body off and grab another to wrap around my head and dry my hair. I step out of the bathroom and Preston is still inside the wardrobe. I put on my new clothes while his back is turned and walk over towards him when I'm finished.
“Still haven't found anything,” I ask him
He turns around “Nothing yet, the only thing interesting was this coat.” He holds a leather coat up to me. The coat is made of black leather and has a skull covered with blue flames on the back. There's a black shirt inside the coat with a skeleton hand making a thumbs-up embroidered on the front.
“ That's pretty cool, it's better than what you're wearing right now at least” he's outfitted in a blue hoodie with holes on the chest and tears at the sleeves. He also has a shirt with a faded picture of a blue flower printed on it.
“I guess you're right” he gets up from the floor and exits the wardrobe. He lays the clothes on the couch along next to the blanket and pillow he brought into the room.
“The shower works so you can get yourself clean In there,” I say to him
“You know, a shower sounds really good right now.” He gets up from the floor and grabs a pair of pajama pants that were laying next to him. He leaves the wardrobe and enters the bathroom, closing the door behind him. After a moment the water turns on and I hop on the bed to get ready to sleep. I squirm myself into the quilt and rest my head against one of the pillows. I shut my eyes and fall asleep listening to the passive sound of the shower like rain on a car.
I'm in a void. It feels like I'm standing in a puddle of water that reaches to my knees. I wade my way forward looking around for anything in the darkness. In the distance I can see 3 figures l. I moved closer to them and their silhouettes get clearer. I realize they are my dad and brothers. I start to run towards them kicking up water behind me until something grabs my leg. It pulls down violently forcing me under the water without a breath of air. I kick at the thing grabbing me until something grabs my other leg. I look down and see two glanter's each with a monstrous smile on their faces. They stare back at me and one of them tugs my leg harder than before and tears it off of my body. The water around me turns red as the glanter laugh's. The other smiles wider as it starts to fling me around the water forcing any air left in my lungs to be forced out as I scream in pain. The glanter throws me away and I can see my family slowly fade into the distance as I'm flown away.
I struggle to swim back to where I was, one of my legs is missing and the other is broken. The glanter's find me again and I try to get to the surface to escape them. I'm flapping my arms in any attempt to escape as one of the glanter's flies in front of me and grabs my arm. I look at the monster with tears in my eyes as it bites my arm and tears my body away from it. It flings my body away and with my remaining arm I clutch the wound as the water floods into my body leaving me in the void I started in. I look around and the glanter's seem to have left. I turn behind me and see my family again, this time I'm closer than before.
I grit my teeth and drag my body towards them slowly as I leave a trail of blood and tears behind me. I finally reach my family and grab one of my father's shoes. I stare up and he looks at me. His stare causes me to feel cold as a grotesque smile grows on his face. I stare in shock as my brothers each have the same look as my father.
I shoot up from my sleep panting heavily in a cold sweat.
“It was just a dream..just a dream…just a dream” I look at my hands as tears fall into them. I look around the room and see Preston sleeping peacefully on the couch. The room feels frozen in place as a chill runs down my spine. I get out of the bed and walk out of the bedroom. I make my way through the dark hallway and find the entrance to the balcony I saw earlier. I creak open the screen door and head outside. The Balcony is pretty large, about the size of the kitchen in the house. There are some chairs knocked over next to a table and I pick one up to sit on it. I look out into the expanse of the neighborhood, houses lined up next to each other, dozens broken apart by roads, and dead bodies scattered across the roads.
I look up in the sky and sit back in the chair. The sky looks empty except for the moon giving this world its only source of light. Without the moon, we’d be left in darkness. It hangs in the sky alone, no stars, no clouds, nothing but itself, and the void of the sky. I think back about the dream I had. My dad and my brother's all dead and possessed and then they kill me. I start to tear up thinking about it. I try to wipe away the tears but it’s no use. I'm too scared for my family. I don't know where they are if they're alive if they're worried about me I don't know anything! I start to quietly cry into my hands. I don't know how long I'm sitting there until I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn my head to face it and I see Preston. He was smiling and looking at me. I turn away to wipe my tears and he walks next to me.
“I heard you sneaking out of the bedroom so I followed you to see where you were going.” he says “but that's not my question.” he pauses and looks at me “my question is what’s got you feeling so down?” he leans over the railing of the balcony
“It's nothing, I just came out here to clear my head.” I say as more tears escape from my eyes in big slow drops that ride down the sides of my face.
“if you don't feel like telling me you don't have to but i'll be here if you ever change your mind”. He looks up at the moon before turning to face me and his smile widens “I'll always be here with you…trust me I'm not going anywhere”
I stare up at him and wipe away my tears as a smile grows on my face to match his. I get up and stare over the balcony with him. “So where are we heading next?” I say to him, Preston pulls the map we got from the man cave downstairs out from his pocket.
“After I got out of the shower I decided to take a look at the map for anything interesting we could see.”
“Ok did you find anything?” i ask
“I did,” he points at a spot on the right of the map. “We should head to the museum”
“I didn't want to go to a museum before the apocalypse why would i want to go now?'' I ask him.
“Well the best part of museums is the cool stuff right”
“Yeah what about it”
“The only problem is that you could only look at the fossils and armor but you could never take them.”
“So you want to rob a museum?” Prestons eyes light up at the question
“Exactly they might have a really cool sword I could use, or I could sharpen a dinosaur tooth and use that as a weapon, there might be a cursed shield that can summon the dead to fight for you. This opportunity is too good to pass up. We need to go!”
“That does seem pretty cool but wouldn't carrying that stuff weigh us down. What if a glanter is chasing us and we can't run fast enough because of the stuff we took from the museum.”
“We’ll only take things that are light. Even then I could just block the glanter with my newly acquired 2000 year old shield.”
“Fair enough we can go in a couple hours” I yawn and stretch out my arms. “Cause I'm feeling way too tired to walk all the way over there right now.”
“Alright i'm heading back to my couch and THEN we’ll head out to the museum” he leaves the balcony and heads back to the master bedroom leaving me alone on the balcony.
“Thanks Preston I'm not leaving either” I say into the sky. I turn around and walk back inside the house, closing the balcony door behind me. I walk back into the bedroom and Preston is hunched over and holding a flashlight looking at the map. He’s drawing lines through roads and marking X’s in different areas.
“What are the X’s for?” i ask him
“They’re places that glanter’s usually stay around. I'm marking them off so we remember not to go through them, or at least be more cautious.”
“Cool. Did you find where we are right now?” He points to an area where the lines all converge out of.
“Right around here is where the neighborhood ends. So if we follow this path we can make it to the museum in one piece” I pat him on the back and take the map from his hands.
“Get some sleep Preston, we have a full day tomorrow” he grins to himself before laying down on the couch. I put the map back into my bag and hop on the bed to get to sleep. I cover my body in the quilt and roll over facing away from Preston as he falls asleep. I nestle myself into the bed and slowly fall asleep to get ready for the next day.
I'm awoken by Preston shaking the bed I'm sleeping on. My eyes open and the room is foggy, I wipe away the sleep from my eyes and focus my attention towards Preston. He's practically jumping out of his skin with excitement, he's already fully dressed for the trip and shaking the bed with a wide smile on his face.
“Ok ok i'm up the air feels heavy as a groggy feeling fills my body. I wipe my eyes and the room starts to clear up. I turn to face Preston. He's still shaking my bed to wake me up, he’s already fully dressed and nearly jumping out of his skin in excitement.
“Ok ok, i'm up you can stop shaking the bed” i say
“Then get up we’ve got a long walk ahead of us” he says as he stops shaking the mattress. He grabs the map from my bag and points to one of the red lines.
“We're gonna follow this way to the museum. We’ll move past the hotel around the ice skating rink and around the park. We’ll mainly stick to walking through the streets, we might have to go rooftop hopping to avoid any glanter’s if we see them but i'm sure we won’t reach that point.” he explains
“Wait, wait, wait, why are avoiding the skating rink and the park” i ask
“ everytime we go near the park there's weird noises and light coming out of it”
“And why can't we go to the ice skating rink?”
“I didn't think it would be important”
“It couldn't hurt to check it out at least”
“Fine we could make a detour”
“Ok and how do you plan on getting on top of roofs?”
“I'm sure we'll figure it out when we get to it”
“Ok man as long as you’re sure '' I yawn and step out of the bed. Preston starts to put the map in his bag. I walk into the bathroom with my clothes and change out of my pajamas. Minutes later I walk out and see Preston sitting on the couch twiddling his thumbs.
“Finally you're out” he smiles at me before handing me my bag and slinging it over his shoulder. We took a last look inside the kitchen to see if we missed anything. Afterwards we leave for the outside. The cold air bites at my face but Preston walks down the stairs, his face buried in the map. I jog to catch up to him as we both head into the street.
“Hey Preston, could I see the map?”
“Sure” he hands over the map and continues walking. I look at the map and the numerous lines drawn on roads. I look at the corner of the map and notice a small map key with numerous symbols for different areas like a library, school, hospital, and more. There's even a way to tell how far away each location is. The text reads “1 inch=5 miles” I quickly count how far we are from the museum.
“Dude this museum is like 100 miles away.”
“Yep it'll be a long walk, it'll take us a while to get there”
“Did you plan on us walking there the whole time?”
“We might find bikes or something.” he pauses “well i did think we would walk the whole way”
“This is gonna take us weeks to get there!”
“Did you have anything else planned?”
“Well…i guess not but we should still try to find some bikes or something”
“Ok if we see any way to travel faster we’ll take it”
“Alright cool” I hand him the map back and he folds it back up and puts it in his bag. We walk further until we leave the gated neighborhood we started in. Preston takes the map back out and looks at it before he turns right and continues walking. I follow him staring forward at the expanse of the road. The outside of the neighborhood is surrounded by roads all leading to different parts of Newkinawa. We walk past a sign that reads “Coretown 20 miles ahead” I nudge Preston towards the sign and he checks the map again.
“Yep, the museum’s in Coretown. Would you believe the residents were pretty proud of it. Should be a fun place to explore” he says
“Yeah but it’ll take us a million years to get there.” i complain
“Lighten up, I'm sure it will be worth it”. We continue walking down the road slowly making our way to Coretown.

Ok, I’m now certain that every single spravato trip is totally unique - like completely unique. I don’t see my tolerance building either. Today’s trip was super strong if not more disorientating than usual. I made it a point to snort a little harder to really get the med into my system and it seemed to work.
I found myself thinking about how disorientating and strange the treatment is and little trickles of thoughts would come in that it would be awful if I stayed in that condition permanently. I easily brush the thoughts off and know it will be fine.
I don’t know, today’s session was just weird. My energy and the energy of others at the clinic seemed low/off somehow.
The comedown was very different. I felt extremely relaxed almost to the point of falling asleep and I stayed still much longer than usual. Even when I put my chair upright I still kept my eye mask on and sat there very still just feeling the sensations in my body. It was different, weirder. Not bad but different. I usually get up and eat my snack and watch some comedy on my phone sooner.
This is such a fascinating unpredictable strange drug/experience. Today I felt like my chair was tilted all the way back like my feet were towards the ceiling and my head towards the floor - like I was hanging from my feet. I usually like the feeling of my position in space shifting. I really like the feeling of sinking down into space.
I don’t know where I’m going with this post. Today was just-weird…
I think I’m a little anxious about going from twice a week to once a week as well. I guess this is where I will see how much the drug is working taking less of it.
I really hope it is healing/reconnecting/resetting my brain in a permanent way as I have read it does.
Hope everyone is well and benefiting from this strange powerful potentially life changing medicine…

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Memory Transcript: Kinet, Venlil Surveyor Captain [Standardized Human Time July 5th, 2114]:
We had arrived in-system [four days] ago, and while I was expecting to see a world ravaged by nuclear exchange, the damage to the planet was beyond what I could have ever imagined. The surface was scorched, and the air filled with ash and soot from massive continent spanning fires that must have been burning for cycles. Despite all the destruction, our scans showed some signs of life trying to take hold on the surface, but not nearly as much as there should have been.
The humans had wiped themselves out over [150 years ] in the past; it shouldn’t look like it only happened only a herd of claws ago.
Fiir was of no use. When the first glimpses of the planet came in on the viewscreen, the scruffy researcher just stared with his jaw hanging loose before stammering about something being wrong. He stormed off to his quarters, and I haven’t seen him since then.
I sighed and walked onto the bridge with my waking claw cup of tea but was immediately assaulted by the chittering of an excited sivkit, our primary communications officer.
“Captain, captain, captain!”
“Hephy, yes, I’m right here. What is it?” I looked down towards her. She barely came up to my waist in her typical quadrupedal stance, and even doing her best to stand up, she wouldn’t be able to look me in the eye. Despite her stature, her excitement demanded attention as her eyes flicked between myself and whatever data she had scrolling across her display visor.
“Right Right. Anyway, Captain, I have to show you something, it’s big.” Most people don’t pay sivkits much mind, but Hephy was a prodigy. The excitable woman could look at a waterfall plot and pick out every signal present, and even read some of them without any computer assistance. I motioned for her to follow me to the ready room and started off toward it while sipping my tea. She trotted behind me on all fours, as sivkits are wont to do, and when I sat in my chair, she hopped side to side in excitement. “The signals, when we arrived from the jump, I saw something fascinating!” “Hephy, stop bouncing and sit.” I gestured to the chair in front of my desk. She looked at me for a moment as if I had grown a set of ears at the end of my snout. After a moment, her trance broke, and she hopped into the chair. She sat on her haunches and pulled out her tablet.
“Ok so, when we jumped in, we got a ping of the area, right? Send a signal out, listen for the reply, and we see what’s out there that our eyes can’t. Standard stuff, sure, but look.” She tapped at her tablet and expanded a multidimensional spectrum plot. “The bright spots are reports, and it’s all around. Debris right? That’s what I thought but look closer!” I leaned in and looked at the impressionistic splotches of color shown on the holographic display. The blues, yellows, and oranges spattered amongst the dark gray and black of night and other known objects was appealing to the eye, but ultimately gave me little idea what Hephy was trying to communicate with me. She must have picked up on my lack of insight, because she sighed and tapped the display again. “Normally, you see the pulse pattern return and that’s pretty distinct, but this is different. Odd. I thought it was just micro-debris but if you spread it out over time there’s a pattern to it, a structure in the phase relationships that doesn’t match reflections or our interrogation pulses.” “Hephy, you know I rarely ever understand you at this level.” “Right sorry right. Captain, this isn’t the return pulse, they’re data transmissions. Multiple data transmissions all at once.”
My ears perked up, and I tilted my head to the side a bit. “How can you be sure? What would even be out there to send them?”
“I wasn’t sure myself until I looked later on in the data buffers. Almost a claw later there was another longer burst. The automated systems ignored it due to interpreting it as just more micro-debris, but it had that structure-but-not-structure, perfectly shaped noise. I also had nav and sensors run another few active pings at different frequencies, trying to rule out silly patterns seeking brain nonsense. Nothing returned. The debris cloud doesn’t exist!”
“So what does this mean for us?”
“I don’t know, but it's fascinating! They must be satellites of some kind, either too small to reflect much or made to absorb radio waves.”
“That’s worrisome. There’s only one reason you’d build something like that.”
“Weaponry?” She chirped with surprising insight I had not expected to come from her. She had never been in the space force like I, and many others, had.
“Defense platforms, yes.” I took a sip of my rapidly cooling tea to try and soothe the anxious pit growing in my stomach.
“That’s…concerning.” Her excitement waned for a moment but quickly slipped back.
“Very, thank you for bringing this to my attention, Hephy.”
“As if I could keep quiet about something like this!” She snorted with a chittering laugh. “Oh! Wait there’s one more thing. There was another signal in a higher band that sounded off around the same time as the other burst, this time from a different orbit, way further out. I traced it to an artificial satellite.”
Suddenly, a thought hit me. These things were actively communicating with something. Was there something still left on the surface?
“Hephy, do you know where those signals were going?”
“Normally the antenna is too directional for anyone but the recipient to see it or it’s hard to get a read on directionality, but I know where everything is communicating to. The middle of the smaller main ocean.”
“Hephy, that’s an incredibly important bit of information!”
“It is? Oh yeah right, that makes sense!” She wiggles her tail in an amused flicking motion.
I stood up and patted her on the shoulder. “Get us close to that artificial satellite and see what it is. I’d like to get a better idea of what we’ve just stumbled into. Report back when you have some answers and we will go from there.”
Hephy bobbed her ears and hopped off the seat. “On it, sir. Where are you going?” “I’m going to talk to Fiir. This is beyond the original mission, and he needs to know.” “Ay captain. Good luck. Guy’s a weirdo.” I simply grunted and strolled down to the auxiliary quarters where I knew the researcher to be.
>Advance record: [10 Minutes]:
Fiir had brought an entire team of researchers with him. I was told they’re all colleagues of his from the research academy that are interested in this personal project of his. This many people on board with his project did explain how he was able to offer the exorbitant sum of credits to hire me and my crew. They had been allocated a section of the ship near the front, just past the shuttle bay and under the bridge area. This let them have their privacy and set up whatever gear they brought with them.
It also meant that there was a door between them and the rest of the ship. A door that they did not hesitate to keep closed after pre-launch inspections had concluded. The researchers didn’t have anything I didn’t expect from the manifest, but I still found it rather suspicious. Were they hiding something? Perhaps it had to do with that odd power hungry computer they insisted upon. Mara had her ears tied in a knot trying to accommodate it, and still they were coy about why exactly they needed it. It didn’t do me any good to speculate, though. What mattered most was the problem of the satellites.
I finally reached the door and, being the polite man I am, I scratched at the sounding plate before grabbing the handle and trying to open it. To my surprise, it didn’t budge. I could understand locking doors to the personal quarters, but this was a main corridor in my own ship! Just as I reached over to key in the unlock code, the door made a thunk as the latch disengaged and slid open part of the way. A familiar gray fringed brown muzzle stuck out from the gap. “This is a restrict- Oh. Captain.” Fiir opened the door a little more and stood up facing me. “What is it?”
I blinked at his rather blunt question. “I just came to inform you that we’ve discovered some worrying details about the nature of the-” “The artificial satellites are not of any concern to us.” He cut me off before I could finish.
“We think they might be-”
He glanced back behind the door for a moment, his tail thrashed in agitation. “It doesn’t matter. Have you prepared the landing party yet?” My jaw tightened as my frustration with his rudeness grew. I couldn’t get much of a word in, but I needed any answers. “They’re set to depart in two claws, but with those unknown satellites, I can’t be sure of their safety! I saw you on the bridge when we arrived, you were expecting something different. As the captain of this ship, I need to know if there’s a threat to-”
“Captain.” Fiir’s gaze grew intense as he leaned in. I may have had almost a head of height on the wizened farsul, but in that moment, he felt as if he was towering over me. “I suggest you stick to the responsibilities I hired you for, Captain Kinet. There are things that you are not privy to, nor will you be made privy to in the foreseeable future. Continue with the survey as per our agreement, and you’ll get your credits. Do not bother me until the away team is en route. Good paw, Captain.” He closed and locked the door without even waiting for my response.
I just stood at the door for a long while, a feeling of anger and indignation boiling in my chest. I had only ever had cordial contact with the researcher up until now; this abrupt shift in his demeanor was unsettling, to say the least. How dare he talk down to me like that on my own ship! I sighed and took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out. Slow and controlled. Letting the tension and anger flow out with my breath.
Inhale. Hold. Release.
Inhale. Hold. Release.
After a few cycles, the burning anger was reduced to a smoldering cinder. As much as I had wanted to headbutt Fiir, it wasn’t worth risking the contract for. I turned and walked back to the bridge to prepare for the away mission. Without Fiir’s info, I needed to make sure contingencies were in place for any possible threat to the away team. The lives of my crew are paramount, even if the contract was very, very lucrative. All that aside, the planning would keep my mind away from thoughts of my rude client.
>Advance record: [Standardized Human Time July 6th, 2114]:
I woke up after my rest paw feeling groggy and unrested. The confrontation with Fiir kept playing in my mind all night, despite the claws of planning for the away mission. To say his standoffish behavior left knots in my wool would be an understatement. I wiped my snout with my paws, flicking the crust from my eyes before getting up out of bed.
I grabbed my favorite mug and fixed myself my morning cup of tea. Pulling the dried leaves and stems from the canister, I could feel my mouth water in anticipation. I had been told by many who possessed the strange appendage called a nose that the tea leaves had a strong earthy and floral scent. I often wondered what that meant. Venlil didn’t have noses, but we did have a sense of taste, which is apparently quite similar. I often wondered what it might be like to smell. Do we really miss out on so much without being able to smell?
We had to soak our foods and tea in water before we could taste it with our tongues, and even then, it’s not nearly as sensitive, which is probably why other species consider venlil cuisine to be overseasoned and overpowering.
Another reason why the stereotype of venlil being weak is nonsense, in my opinion. How strong can you be if you can’t handle a little spice?
The timer went off, chirping to tell me my tea was ready. I sifted out the leaves and brought the invigorating elixir to my lips. The hot fluid warmed me to my core and burned away the waking lyasi silk from my groggy mind.
I needed to catch up with Hephy and Mara; they should have brought in that satellite-
My thoughts were interrupted by the chiming of my pad. I picked it up and answered the call to see Hephy’s face almost filling the screen, with Mara looking over her shoulder.
“Oh good you’re awake! Captain, you must see this! It’s amazing! The satellite, it’s full of brains!”
END TRANSCRIPTION
Been a hot minute, I hadn't forgotten about this. As always, comments are coveted and appreciated. What do you all think about Fiir's behavior? What do y'all think of Hephy?
Thanks to for creating this setting and fostering such a delightfully passionate community! Thanks again to , Novalux, and the Foxmates for editing and helping me get this done!
Soma belongs to Frictional Games.

PLAYBOY Interview With Conan O'Brien Interview by Kevin Cook For Playboy Magazine February 1998
A candid conversation with the preppie prince of "Late Night" about his rocky start, his show's secret one-day cancellation and how David Letterman saved the day.
He was polite. He was funny. He gave us a communicable disease.
At 34 Conan O'Brien is hotter than the fever he was running when we met in his private domain above the "Late Night" sound stage. A gangly freckle-faced ex-high school geek he is "one of TV's hottest properties" according to "People" magazine. The host of "Late Night With Conan O'Brien" has become his generation's king of comedy.
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. Congested too, but O'Brien has far more to worry about than his head cold. A perfectionist who broods over one bad minute in an otherwise perfect hour of TV, he worries he might be anhedonic, "I have trouble with success," he says, "I was raised to believe that if something good happens something bad is coming." Sure things look good now "Rolling Stone" calls "Late Night" "the hottest comedy show on TV." Ratings are better than ever, particularly among 18- to 34-year-olds, the viewers advertisers crave.
But O'Brien only works harder. Despite his illness he taped two shows in 26 hours on three hours' sleep. He smoothly interviewed Elton John then burst into coughing fits during commercials. Later in his crammed corner office overlooking Manhattan traffic Conan the Cool gulped Dayquil gel caps. He coughed spewing microbes.
"Sorry, sorry," he said. Of course O'Brien can't complain. He came seriously close to falling to being banished behind the scenes as just another failed talk show host.
At his first "Late Night" press conference he corrected a reporter who called him a relative unknown, "Sir I am a complete unknown," he said. That line got a laugh, but soon O'Brien looked doomed. His September 13, 1993 debut began with O'Brien in his dressing room preparing to hang himself only to be interrupted by the start of his show. Before long his career was hanging by a thread. Ratings were terrible. Critics hated the show. Tom Shales of "The Washington Post" called it as "lifeless and messy as roadkill." Shales said O'Brien should quit.
Network officials held urgent meetings discussing the Conan O'Brien debacle. Should they fire him? How should they explain their mistake?
In the end of course he turned it around. The network hung with him long enough for the ratings to improve and the host of the cooler-than-ever "Late Night" now defines comedy's cutting edge just as Letterman did ten years ago.
Even Shales loves "Late Night" these days. He calls O'Brien's turnaround "one of the most amazing transformations in television history."
O'Brien was born on April 18, 1963 in Brookline, Massachusetts. His father, a doctor, is a professor at Harvard Medical School. His mother, a lawyer, is a partner at an elite Boston Law firm. Conan, the third of six children became a lector at church and a misfit at school. Tall and goofy, bedeviled with acne, he tried to impress girls with jokes. That plan usually bombed, but O'Brien eventually found his niche at Harvard where he won the presidency of the "Harvard Lampoon" in 1983 and again in 1984 - the first two-time "Lampoon" president since humorist Robert Benchley held the honor 85 years ago.
After graduating magna cum laude with a double major in literature and American history he turned pro. Writing for HBO's "Not Necessarily The News." O'Brien was earning $100,000 a year before his 24th birthday. But writing was never enough.
He honed his performance skills with the Groundlings, a Los Angeles improv group. There he worked with his onetime girlfriend Lisa Kudrow, now starring on "Friends." But Conan was not such a standout. In 1988 he landed a job at "Saturday Night Live" - but as a writer, not as on-air talent. In almost four years on the show O'Brien made only fleeting appearances, usually as a crowd member or security guard. His writing was more memorable. He wrote (or co-wrote) Tom hanks' "Mr Short-Term Memory" skits as well as the "pump you up" infosatire of Hanz and Franz and the nude beach sketch in which Matthew Broderick and "SNL" members played nudists admiring one another's penises. With dozens of mentions of the word that hit was the most penis-heavy moment in TV history. It helped O'Brien win an Emmy for comedy writing.
In 1991 he quit "SNL" and moved on to "The Simpsons" where he worked for two years. His urge to perform came out in wall-bouncing antics in writers' meetings. "Conan makes you fall out of your chair" said "Simpsons" creator Matt Groening. O'Brien's yen to act out was so strong that he spurned Fox's reported seven-figure offer to continue as a writer. He was driving for the spotlight.
By then David Letterman had announced he was turning shin - leaving NBC taking his ton-rated act to CBS. Suddenly NBC was up a creek without a host. The network turned to Lorne Michaels, O'Brien's "Saturday Night Live" boss. Michaels enlisted Conan's help in the host search planning to use him in a behind-the-scenes job. But when Garry Shandling, Dana Carvey and almost every other star turned down the chore of following Letterman, Michaels finally listened to Conan's crazy suggestion, "Let me do it!" Michaels persuaded the network to entrust it's 12:30 slot which Letterman had turned into a gold mine to an untested wiseass from Harvard.
O'Brien was working on one of his last "Simpsons" episodes when he got the news. He turned "paler than usual," Groening recalled. The Conan moseyed back to where the other writers were working, "I'll come back with the Homer Simspon joke later. I have to go replace Letterman," he said.
NBC executives now get credit for their foresight during those dark days of 1993 and 1994. They snared the axe and now reap the multimillion-dollar spoils of that decision. In fact, the story is not so simple. We sent Contributing Editor Kevin Cook to unravel the tale of O'Brien's survival, which he tells here for the first time. Cook reports:
"His office is chock-full of significa. There's a three-foot plastic pickle the Letterman staff left behind in 1993 - perhaps to suggest what a predicament he was in. There's a copy of Jack Paar's 'I Kid You Not' and a coffee-table book called 'Saturday Night Live: The First 20 Years.' His bulletin board features letters from fans such as John Watters and Bob Dole and an 8" x 10" glossy of Andy Richter with the inscription: "To Conan - Your bitter jealousy warms my black heart. Love and Kisses Andy."
"Of course it's all for show. From the photos of kitch icons Adam West and Robert Stack to the framed Stan Laurel autograph, from the deathbed painting of Abraham Lincoln, to the ironic star taped to Conan's door - they're all clever signals that tell a visitor how to view the star. Lincoln was his collegiate preoccupation: stardom is his occupation. Somewhere between the two I hoped to find the real O'Brien.
"As a Playboy reader he wanted to give me a better-than-average interview. I wanted something more - a definitive look at the guy who may end up being the Johnny Carson of his generation."
"Here's hoping we succeeded. If not I carried his germs 3000 miles and infected dozens of Californians for no good reason.
O'Brien: Yes, this is how to do a Playboy Interview -- completely tanked on cold medicine. I'll pick it up and read, "Yes, I'm gay."
Playboy: We could talk another time. O'Brien: (coughing) No, it's OK. I memorized Dennis Rodman's answers. Can I use them?
Playboy: You sound really sick. Do you ever take a day off? O'Brien: No. The age of talk show hosts taking days off is over. Johnny Carson could go to Africa when he was the only game in town -- "See you in two weeks!" But nobody does that now. I will give you a million dollars on the first day Jay takes off for illness.
Playboy: Do you ever slow down and enjoy your success? O'Brien: If anything, the pace is picking up. Restaurateurs insist on giving me a table even if I'm only passing by, so I'm eating nine meals a night. Women stop me on the street and hand me their phone numbers.
Playboy: So you have groupies? O'Brien: Oh yes. And other fans. Drifters. Prisoners. Insomniacs. Cab Drivers, who must watch a lot of late night TV, seem to love me lately. They keep saying, "You will not pay, you will not pay, you make me happy!"
Playboy: How happy did your new contract make you? O'Brien: Terrified. The network said, "We're all set for five years." I said, "Shut up, shut up! I can't think that far ahead." Tonight, for instance, I do my jokes, then interview Elton John and Tim Meadows. We finished taping about 6:30. By 6:45 my memory was erased and my only thought was, Tomorrow: John Tesh. And I started to obsess about John Tesh. Sad, don't you think?
Playboy: Not too sad. You got off to a rocky start but now you're so hot that People magazine recently said, "that was then, this is wow." O'Brien: I try not to pay much attention. Since I ignored the critics who said I should shoot myself in the head with a German Luger, it would be cheating to tear out nice reviews now and rub them all over my body, giggling. Though I have thought about it.
Playboy: Tell us about your trademark gag. You interview a photo of Bill Clinton or some other celeb, and a pair of superimposed lips provide outrageous answers. O'Brien: We call it the Clutch Cargo bit, after that terrible old cartoon series. They saved money on animation by superimposing real lips on the cartoons. I wanted to do topical jokes in a cartoony way -- not just Conan doing quips at a desk. TV is visual; I want things to look funny. But we're not Saturday Night Live; we couldn't spend $100,000 on it. Hence, the cheap, cheesy lips, You'd be surprised how many people we fool.
Playboy: Viewers believe that's really the president yelling, "Yee-haw! Who's got a joint?" O'Brien: It's strange. You may know intellectually that Clinton doesn't talk like Foghorn Leghorn. Ninety-eight percent of your brain knows the president wouldn't say, "Whoa Conan get a load of that girl!" But there are a few brain cells that aren't sure. When Bob Dole was running for president we had him doing a past-life regression: "My cave, get away." And then back further, "Must form flippers to crawl on to rocky soil," he says. There may be people out there who believe that Bob Dole was the first amphibian.
Playboy: Do you ever go too far? O'Brien: The fun is in going too far. It's a nice device because you get Bill Clinton to do the nastiest Bill Clinton jokes. We'll have Clinton making fart noises while I say "Sir! Please!"
Playboy: Are you enjoying your job now, with your new success? O'Brien: Well, there are surprises. I hate surprises. Like most comics, I'm a control freak. But I am learning that the show works best when things are out of control. Tonight I ask Elton John if he likes being neighbors with Joan Collins. He says he isn't neighbors with Joan Collins. He lives next door to Tina Turner. So I panic -- huge mistake! But Elton saves the day. "Joan Collins, Tina Turner, it doesn't matter. Either way I could borrow a wig," he says. Huge laugh, all because I fucked up. Later he surprised me by blurting out that he's hung like a horse. The camera cuts to me shaking my head: That crazy Elton. What can I do? Of course, I'm delighted that he went too far.
Playboy: That "What can I do?" look resembles a classic take of Jack Benny's. O'Brien: There's an old saying in literature: "Good poets borrow; great poets steal." I think T.S. Eliot stole it from Ezra Pound. Comics steal, too. Constantly. When I watched Johnny Carson, I noticed that he got a few takes from Benny and Bob Hope. When a comedy writer told me how much Woody Allen had borrowed from Hope, I thought, What? They're nothing alike. Then I went back and watched Son of Paleface, and there's Hope, the nervous city guy backing up on his heels, wringing his hands and saying, "Sorry, I'll just be moving along." Now look at early Woody Allen. You see big authority figures and Woody nervously saying, "Look, I'll just be on my way." Of course Woody made it his own, but he must have watched and loved Bob Hope.
Playboy: Who are your role models? O'Brien: Carson. Woody Allen. SCTV. Peter Sellers. When Peter Sellers died I felt such a loss, thinking, There won't be anymore of that. There's some Steve Martin in my false bravado with female guests: "Why, hel-lo there!" And I won't deny having some Letterman in my bones.
Playboy: You were surprise as Letterman's successor. At first you seemed like the wrong choice. O'Brien: I didn't get ratings. That doesn't mean I didn't get laughs. Yes, I had a giant pompadour and I looked like a rockabilly freak. I was too excited, pushed too hard, and people said, "That guy isn't a polished performer." Fine! But it isn't my goal to be Joe Handsomehead cool, smooth talk show host. Late Night with Conan O'Brien is supposed to be a work in progress, and now that we've had some success there's a danger of our getting too polished and morphing into something smoothly professional. Which would suck.
Do you know why I wanted this show? Because Late Night with David Letterman played with the rules and it looked like fun. Here was a place where people did risky comedy every night for millions of people. We had to keep this thing alive. There should be a place on a big network where people are still messing around.
Playboy: How bad were your early days on the show? O'Brien: Bad. Dave left here under a cloud: his fans and the media were angry with NBC. Then NBC picks a guy with crazy hair and a weird name. And the world says, "Harvard? Those guys are assholes." I sincerely hope that the winter of December 1993, our first winter, was the worst time I will ever have. I'd go out to do the warm up and the back two rows of seats would be empty. That's hard to look at. I would tell a joke and then hear someone whisper, "Who's he? Where's Dave?"
Playboy: You had trouble getting guests. O'Brien: Bob Denver canceled on us. We shot a test show with Al Lewis of The Munsters. We did the clutch cargo thing with a photo of Herman Munster. Unfortunately, Fred Gwynne, who played Herman, had recently died, and Al Lewis kept pointing at the screen, saying, "You're dead! I was at your funeral!"
Playboy: For months you got worried notes from network executives. What did they say? O'Brien: They were worried. The fact that Lorne Michaels was involved bought me some time. But Lorne had turned to me at the start and said, "OK, Conan. What do you want to do?" Now television critics were after me and the network was starting to realize what a risk I was. Suggestions came fast and furious. I kept the note that said, "Why don't you just die?"
Playboy: Did they suggest ways to be funnier? O'Brien: They were more specific and tactical. The network gets very specific data. Say there was a drop in ratings between 12:44 and 12:48 when I was talking to Jon Bon Jovi. I'll be told, "Don't ever talk to him again" Or they'll want me to tease viewers into staying with us: "You should tease that -- say, 'We'll have nudity coming up next!'"
Playboy: You did come close to being cancelled. O'Brien: We were cancelled.
Playboy: Really? You have never admitted that. O'Brien: This is the first time I've talked about it. When I had been on for about a year, there was a meeting at the network. They decided to cancel my show. They said, "It's cancelled." Next day they realized they had nothing to put in the 12:30 slot, so we got a reprieve.
Playboy: Were you worried sick? O'Brien: I went into denial. I tried hard not to think, Yes, I'm bad on the air and my show has none of the things a TV show needs to survive. We had no ratings. No critics in our corner. Advertisers didn't like us. Affiliates wanted to drop us. Sometimes I'd meet a programming director from a local station where we had no rating at all. The guy would show me a printout with no number for Late Night's rating, just a hash mark or pound sign. I didn't dare think about that when I went out to do the show.
Playboy: Are you defending denial? O'Brien: How else does anyone get through a terrible experience? The odds were against me. Rationally, I didn't have much chance. Denial was my only friend. When I look back on the first year, it's like a scene from an old war movie: Ordinary guy gets thrown into combat, somehow beats impossible odds, staggers to safety. His buddy say, "You could have been killed!" The guy stops and thinks. "Could have been killed?" he says. His eyes cross and he faints.
Playboy: How did you dodge the bullet? O'Brien: There were people at NBC who stood up for me. I will always be indebted to Don Ohlmeyer, who stuck to his guns. Don said, "We chose this guy. We should stick with him unless we get a better plan." He was brutally honest. He came to me and said, "Give me about a 15 percent bump in the ratings and you'll stay on the air. If not, we're going to move on."
Playboy: Ohlmeyer started his career in the sports division. O'Brien: Exactly, his take was, "You're on our team." Of course, it wasn't exactly rational of Don to hope I'd be 15 percent funnier. It was like telling a farmer, "It better rain this week or we'll take your farm away."
Playboy: What did you say to Ohlmeyer? O'Brien: There wasn't time. I had to go out and do a monologue. But I will always be indebted to Don because he told me the truth. Wait a minute -- you have tricked me into talking lovingly about an NBC executive. Let me say that there were others who were beneath contempt -- executives who wouldn't know a good show if it swam up their asses and lit a campfire.
Playboy: Finally the ratings went your way. Hard work rewarded? O'Brien: Well, I also paid off the Nielsen people. That was $140,000 well spent.
Playboy: Ohlmeyer plus bribery saved you? O'Brien: There was something else. Just when everyone was kicking the crap out of the show, Letterman defended me.
Playboy: Letterman had signed off on NBC saying, "I don't really know Conan O'Brien, but I heard he killed someone." O'Brien: Then I pick up the paper and he's saying he thinks I am going to make it. "They do some interesting, innovative stuff over there," he says. "I think Conan will prevail." And then he came on as a guest. Remember, this was when we were at our nadir. There was no Machiavellian reason for David Letterman, who at the time was the biggest thing in show business, to be on my show.
Playboy: Why did he do it? O'Brien: I'm still not sure. Maybe out of a sense of honor. Fair play. And it woke me up. It made me think. Hey, we have a real fucking television show here.
Of six or seven pivotal points in my short history here, that was the first and maybe the biggest. I wouldn't be sitting here -- I probably wouldn't even exist today -- if he hadn't done our show.
Playboy: The Late Night wars were hardly noted for friendly gestures. O'Brien: How little you understand. Jay, Dave and I pal around all the time. We often ride a bicycle built for three up to the country. "Nice job with Fran Drescher!" "Thanks, pal. You weren't so bad with John Tesh." We sleep in triple-decker bunk beds and snore in unison like the Three Stooges.
Playboy: You talk more about Letterman than your NBC teammate Leno. O'Brien: I hate the "Leno or Letterman, who's better?" question. I can tell you that Jay has been great to me. He calls me occasionally.
Playboy: To say what? O'Brien: (Doing Leno's voice) "Hey, liked that bit you did last night." Or he'll say he saw we got a good rating. I call him at work, too. It can be a strange conversation because we're so different. Jay, for instance, really loves cars. He's got antique cars with kerosene lanterns, cars that run on peat moss. He'll be telling me about some classic car he has, made entirely of brass and leather, and I'll say, "Yeah, man, I got the Taurus with the vinyl." One thing we have in common is bad guests. There are certain actors, celebrities with nothing to say, who move through the talk show world wreaking havoc. They lay waste to Dave's town and Jay's town, then head my way.
Playboy: You must be getting some good guests. Your ratings have shown a marked improvement. O'Brien: Remember, when you're on at 12:30 the Nielsens are based on 80 people. My ratings drop if one person has a head cold and goes to bed early.
Playboy: Actually, you're seen by about 3 million people a night. Your ratings would be even higher if college dorms weren't excluded from the Nielsens. How many points does that cost you? O'Brien: I told you I'm an idiot. Now I have to do math too?
Playboy: Do you still get suggestions from NBC executives? O'Brien: Not as many. The number of notes you get is inversely proportional to your ratings.
Playboy: What keeps you motivated? O'Brien: Superstition. We have a stagehand, Bobby Bowman, who holds up the curtain when I run out for the monologue. He is the last person I see before the show starts, and I have to make him laugh before I go out. It started with mild jabs: "Bobby, you're drunk again." Bobby laughs, "Heehee."" Then it was, "Still having trouble with the wife, Bobby?" But after hundreds of shows, you find yourself running out of lines. It's gotten to where I do crass things at the last second. I'll put his hand on my ass and yell, "You fucking pervert!" Or drop to my knees and say, "Come on, Bobby, I'll give you a blow job!"
"Ha-ha. Conan, you're crazy," he says. But even that stuff wears off. Soon, I'll be making the writers work late to give me new jokes for Bobby.
Playboy: Did you plan to be a talk show host or did you fall into the job? O'Brien: I was an Irish Catholic kid from St. Ignatius parish in Brookline, outside of Boston. And that meant: Don't call attention to yourself. Don't ask for too much when the pie comes around. Don't get a girl pregnant and fuck up your life.
Playboy: Were you an alter boy? O'Brien: I wanted to be an alter boy, but the priest at St. Ignatius said, "No, no. You're good on your feet, kid," and made me a lector. A scripture reader at Mass. He was the one who spotted my talent.
Playboy: What did you think of sex in those days? O'Brien: I was sexually repressed. At 16 I still thought human reproduction was by mitosis.
Playboy: How did you get over your sexual repression? O'Brien: Who says I got over it? My leg has been jiggling this whole time.
Playboy: What were you like in high school? O'Brien: Like a crane galumphing down the hall. A crane with weird hair, bad skin and Clearasil. Big enough for basketball but lousy at it. My older brothers were better. I would compensate by running around the court doing comedy, saying, "Look out, this player has a drug addiction. He's incredibly egotistical."
I was an asshole at home, too. My little brother Justin loved playing cops and robbers, but I kept tying him up with bureaucratic bullshit. When he'd catch me, I'd say, "I get to call my lawyer." Then it was, "OK, Justin, we're at trial and you've been charged with illegal arrest. Fill out these forms in triplicate." Justin was eight; he hated all the lawsuits and countersuits. He just cried.
Playboy: Were you a class clown? O'Brien: Never. I was never someone who walked into a room full of strangers and started telling jokes. You had to get to know me before I could make you laugh. The same thing happened with Late Night. I needed to get the right rhythm with Andy and Max and the audience.
Playboy: So how did you finally learn about sex? O'Brien: My parents gave me a book, but it was useless. At the crucial moment, all it showed was a man and a woman with the bed covers pulled up to their chins. I tried to find out more from friends, but it didn't help. One childhood friend told me it was like parking a car in a garage. I kept worrying about poisonous fumes. What if the fumes build up? Should you shut off the engine?
Playboy: For all your talk about being repressed, you can be rowdy on the air. O'Brien: The show is my escape valve. When I tear off my shirt and gyrate my pelvis like Robert Plant, feigning orgasm into the microphone, that shows how repressed I am -- a guy who wants to push his sex at the lens but can only do it as a joke.
Playboy: Aren't you tempted to live it up? O'Brien: I always imagined that if I were a TV star I would live the way I pictured Johnny Carson living. Carousing, stepping out of a limo wearing a velvet ascot with a model on my arm. Now that I have the TV show, I drive up to Connecticut on the weekends and tool around in my car. I could probably join a free-sex cult, smoke crack between orgies and drive sports cars into swimming pools, and my Catholic guilt would still be there, throbbing like a toothache. Be careful. If something good happens, something bad is on the way.
Playboy: Yet you don't mind licking the supermodels. O'Brien: At one point a few of them lived in my building, women who are so beautiful they almost look weird, like aliens. To me, a woman who has a certain approachable amount of beauty becomes almost funny. It's the same with male supermodels. They look like big puppets. So while I admire their beauty I probably won't be "romantically linked" with a model. I'd catch my reflection in a ballroom mirror and break up laughing.
Playboy: The horny Roy Orbison growl you use on gorgeous guests sounds real enough -- O'Brien: Oh, I've been doing that shit since high school. It just never worked before.
Playboy: Your father is a doctor, your mother an attorney. What do they think of their son the comedian? O'Brien: My dad was the one who told me denial was a virtue. "Denial is how people get through horrible things," he said. He also cut out a newspaper article in which I said I was making money off something for which I should probably be treated. So true, he thought. But when I got an Emmy for helping write Saturday Night Live, my parents put it on the mantel next to the crucifix. Here's Jesus looking over, saying, "Wow, I saved mankind from sin, but I wish I had an Emmy."
Playboy: Ever been in therapy? O'Brien: Yes. I don't trust it. I have told therapists that I don't particularly want to feel good. "Repression and fear, that's my fuel." But the therapists said that I had nothing to worry about. "Don't worry Conan you will always be plenty fucked up."
Playboy: When a female guest comes out, how do you know whether to shake her hand or kiss her? Is that rehearsed O'Brien: No, and it's awkward. If you go to shake her hand and her head starts coming right at you, you have to change strategy fast. I have thought about using the show to make women kiss me, but that would probably creep out the people at home. I decided not to kiss Elton John.
Playboy: Do you get all fired up if Cindy Crawford or Rebecca Romijn does the show? O'Brien: I like making women laugh. Always have, ever since I discovered you can get girls' attention by acting like an ass. That's one of the joys of the show -- I'm working my eyebrows and going grrr and she's laughing, the audience is laughing. It's all a big put-on and I'm thinking. This is great. Here is a beautiful woman who has no choice but to put up with this shit.
But it's not always put on. Sometimes they flirt back. Sometimes there's a bit of chemistry. That happened with Jennifer Connelly of The Rocketeer.
Playboy: One guest, Jill Hennessy, took off her pants for you. Then you removed yours. Even Penn and Teller took off their pants. O'Brien: Something comes over me. It happened with Rebecca Romijn -- I was practically climbing her. Those are the times when Andy and the audience seem to disappear and it's just me and this lovely woman sitting there flirting. I keep expecting a waiter to say, "More wine, Monsieur?"
Playboy: Would you lick the wine bottle? O'Brien: It's true, there's a lot of licking on the show. I have licked guests. I have licked Andy. Comedy professionals will read this and say, "Great work, Conan. Impressive." But I have learned that if you lick a guest, people laugh. If I pick this shoe off the floor, examine it, Hmmm, and then lick it, people laugh. I learned this lesson on The Simpsons, where I was the writer who was forever trying to entertain the other writers. I still try desperately to make our writers laugh, which is probably a sign of sickness since they work for me now. Licking is one of those things that look funny.
Playboy: Johnny Carson never licked Ed McMahon. O'Brien: We are much more physical and more stupid than the old Tonight Show. Even in our offices before the show there's always some writer acting out a scene crashing his head through my door. A behind-the-scenes look at our show might frighten people.
Playboy: One night you showed a doctored photo of Craig T. Nelson having sex with Jerry Van Dyke. Did they complain about it? O'Brien: I haven't heard from them. Of course I'm blessed not to be a part of the celebrity pond. I have a television show in New York, an NBC outpost. I don't run with or even run into many Hollywood people.
Playboy: You also announced that Tori Spelling has a penis. O'Brien: I did not. Polly the Peacock said that.
Playboy: Another character you use to say the outrageous stuff. O'Brien: Polly is not popular with the network.
Playboy: You mock Fabio, too. O'Brien: If he sues me, it'll be the best thing that ever happened. A publicity bonanza: Courtroom sketches of Fabio with his man-boobs quivering, shaking his fist, and me shouting at him across the courtroom. I'm not afraid of Fabio. He knows where to find me. I'm saying it right here for the record: Fabio, let's get it on.
Playboy: Ever have a run-in with an angry celeb? O'Brien: I did a Kelsey Grammar joke a few years ago, something about his interesting lifestyle, then heard through the network that he was upset. He had appeared on my show and expected some support. At this point my intellect says, "Kelsey Grammar is a public figure. I was in the right." Then I saw him in an airport. Kelsey didn't see me at first: I could have kept walking. But there he was, eating a cruller in the airport lounge. I thought I should go over. I said hello and then said, "Kelsey, I'm sorry if I upset you." And he was glad. He looked relieved. He said, "Oh, that's OK." We both felt better.
....See my other post with the last third of the interview

At the world’s top college of magic and technology, every day brings a new discovery -and a new disaster. The advanced experiments of the college students tend to be both ambitious and apocalyptic, with the end of the world only prevented by a mysterious time loop, and a small handful of students who retain their memories.
Surviving the loops was hard enough, but now, in his senior year, Vell Harlan must take charge of them, and deal with the fact that the whole world now knows his secrets. Everyone knows about Vell’s death and resurrection, along with the divine game he is a part of. Now Vell must contend with overly curious scientists and evil billionaires hungry for divine power while the daily doomsday cycle bombards him with terrorists, talking elephants, and the Grim Reaper himself -but if he can endure it all, the Last Goddess’s game promises the ultimate prize: power over life itself.
[Previous Chapter][Patreon][Cover Art]
The last few notes of a Roxy Rocket song echoed through Vell’s dorm, and while scrappy and dissonant, they were at least coherent. An improvement from early lessons, especially.
“Well, that didn’t hurt to listen to,” Skye said. “You’re making progress.”
“You have such a way with words,” Vell said.
“Okay, fine,” Skye said. “You’re actually making good progress for a guy who only finds time to practice every couple weeks.”
The ever-encroaching responsibilities of being a senior, the leader of the loopers, and the focus of a godly game of fate had whittled Vell’s free time down to almost nothing. The occasional guitar lessons were some of his only islands amid the storm, and a welcome excuse to spend more time with Skye.
“You want to try a few more chords?”
“My hands are starting to hurt, actually,” Vell said. He pulled away from the guitar strings and shook tense fingers loose, revealing fingertips rubbed red and raw by practice. Skye stepped forward and took him by the wrist to examine his hands.
“I do not understand how a guy like you doesn’t have thicker skin,” Skye said. “Weren’t you an actual cowboy for a while? You did rodeos and everything.”
“I wore gloves,” Vell said.
“And for the rest of the weird shit you’ve done in your life?”
Vell took a long pause.
“Yeah, I don’t know,” Vell said. “Good genes, I guess.”
“I’m not complaining, mind you, I just think-”
A loud dinging sound from Skye’s purse interrupted the conversation, and she released her grip on Vell to go answer her phone. Vell recognized those familiar chimes as the Dad Ringtone. While most contacts were set to vibrate, Skye’s father and a few other lucky high-priority contacts got their own ringtones. Vell was lucky enough to have his ringtone set to the theme song of a cartoon Skye had loved as a kid, but played at a much lower volume than the Dad Ringtone. Skye’s father didn’t call often, and when he did it was usually about something important, so she wanted to be sure to never miss a call.
“Hey dad,” Skye began. “No, now’s fine. What’s up?”
Vell set his guitar back on the shelf and relaxed while Skye continued the call.
“No, no, that’d be fine, great, even,” Skye said. “He might be a little busy, but- What?”
Skye’s delight and talking to her father shifted to mild concern.
“Dad we kind of need to- no, not tomorrow, dad,” Skye said. “Dad!”
A long silence followed as Skye held the phone frozen by her ear for a short time. She tucked it back into her purse, took a deep breath, and clapped her hands together as she spun to face Vell.
“So, good news, you’re going to get to meet my dad,” Skye squeaked.
“And the bad news?”
“Well, part one of the bad news is that it’s going to happen tomorrow,” Skye said. Vell would’ve like a little more notice, but that was far from disastrous. Part two was still waiting, though. “And part two is that I kind of maybe didn’t do a very good job describing the nature of our relationship, and he sort of a little bit thinks you’re...a hero.”
Vell waited for a part three, and there was none.
“Is that the bad news?” Vell scoffed. “I might let him down a little, but there’s worse things my girlfriend’s dad could think of me.”
“Yeah there’s definitely a few upsides, be sure to hold on to those,” Skye said. “But also, you know how I flunked out of mad scientist school?”
“Yeah?”
“Well my dad...didn’t.”
***
“Your girlfriend’s dad is a supervillain?”
“Former supervillain,” Vell corrected. He adjusted the suit coat he’d just put on. “He left the game after she was born and went white hat, now he only builds death rays and robot armies so relevant authorities can observe, learn, and prepare for the real deal.”
Having a genuine mad scientist to train with helped keep secret agents and spies ready for actual threats, and Skye’s father got to keep doing what he loved: threatening to blow up the world.
“Are you still really a supervillain if you don’t actually do any villain shit?” Hawke wondered aloud. “Isn’t he just sort a supertrainer? What would you call that?”
“I’d call it asinine,” Alex said. “We shouldn’t be condoning this behavior, much less inviting him to build a death ray on our campus.”
The Einstein-Odinson had been selected as the faux-mad scientist’s next testing ground, and due to a misunderstanding of his role on campus, Vell had been selected as his testing partner. He had to put on a tuxedo and everything, to better fit the classic secret agent trope Skye’s father was envisioning.
“Mad scientists are an important part of the scientific ecosystem,” Helena said.
“You’d know,” Samson muttered under his breath.
“Conflict breeds innovation,” Helena continued, either heedless to or deliberately ignoring his snide comment. “The arc of history requires both heroes and villains.”
“Yeah, well, as far as villains go, I prefer mine to be weird old dads with fake death rays,” Kim said. “Still, Vell, doesn’t it feel kind of weird that he doesn’t actually know you’re dating his daughter?”
“It’s fine,” Vell insisted. “It’s always awkward trying to talk to your parents about your relationship, and she just over-focused on me saving the day and helping people. Simple miscommunication.”
“And when are you resolving that miscommunication?”
“Later,” Vell said. “Skye and her dad don’t get to spend much time together anymore. They’ll take the day, and we’ll get this all sorted out later.”
A life of volcano lairs, alpine bases, and remote tropical islands did not exactly make it easy for Skye to keep up with her dad, so having him concoct a scheme right on her home turf was a good way for the two of them to spend time together. Right now, Vell’s only priority was allowing for some healthy father-daughter bonding time. And also preventing the apocalypse.
“Okay, I’m good to go,” Vell said, as he finished up the knot in his bow-tie. “Hawke, ready on comms?”
“Mission control good to go, Agent Harlan,” Hawke said. He enjoyed any apocalyptic arrangement that allowed him to stay safely behind a chair, but playing mission control was especially fun.
“Good. Samson, you’re on tech duty,” Vell said. “The rest of you, keep an eye on the island. There’s no guarantee our supervillain will actually end the world. Which feels like a weird thing to say.”
Big events usually invited big catastrophes, and a literal supervillain seemed like a prime spark for some apocalyptic fire, but Vell was not so sure. He couldn’t think of anything less likely to actually end the world than a deliberate attempt to do so. All the loopers agreed having some backup eyes on other potential disasters might be warranted.
“Let’s just get this over with,” Alex said. She was the first to leave, everyone else filtered into their respective roles to play soon enough. Samson walked alongside Vell as he left the lair.
“Hey, do I have to put up the whole mission control act like Hawke was doing?”
“Not if you don’t want to,” Vell said. “Play it up a little if Skye’s dad is around, maybe, but like, right now we can just talk normally.”
“Okay, cool. Got your shit right here,” Samson said, as he hefted a large bag of gadget. “Standard spy bullshit. Gizmo watch, secret cufflink radios, pen with a concealed laser cutter, got it all right here.”
“Thanks,” Vell said. “Where’d you find all this stuff?”
“I just asked,” Samson said with a shrug. “Island full of supergenius weirdos, most of them had this kind of stuff just lying around.”
“Convenient. Did you make a list of everyone you got this stuff from?”
“So we can keep an eye on them? Yeah.”
“So I can give it back later,” Vell corrected. “But yeah, actually, knowing about the laser pen guy might be a good idea.”
“We’ll know where to start with any laser-based apocalypses,” Samson said.
“Good instinct,” Vell said. The two of them walked out of the building and towards the docks. “Am I walking weird? I’ve never worn a tux before.”
“Little stiff, but I think it’s working in your favor. You look more serious.”
“Great, thanks,” Vell said. He stepped up to the edge of the docks and strapped on his gadget watch before checking the time on it. “Should be here soon.”
“You need me to stick around?”
“No, you’re good,” Vell said. “Thanks for the help.”
Samson excused himself before the chaos started in full. Vell felt like an idiot standing around in a tux for a minute or two, until he was joined by someone in an equally odd outfit. Skye joined him in waiting on the docks, wearing a dress with long sleeves and a short skirt over sparkling tights and some very high-heeled boots.
“Very gogo dancer,” Vell said.
“Yeah, dad’s really into that whole Cold War era 60’s style,” Skye said. “Apparently this is what a ‘proper villainess’ looks like to him.”
“Could be worse, could be the catsuit kind of female villain.”
“Ugh, don’t get me started,” Skye said. “Every time he took me to work conferences I had to watch grown women try to waddle around in pleather bodysuits.”
“Supervillains have conferences?”
“Oh yeah, surprisingly good ones,” Skye said. “Especially if you’re a little girl who likes genetically engineered sharks.”
“Oh, so that’s where you got your start.”
Skye nodded. Her penchant for genetic engineering had struck at an early age. Her father had initially been excited for her to get into the family business, but it turned out Skye just liked fucking with fish DNA, and didn’t have much skill in all the non-genetic engineering parts of mad science. He was proud of her anyway.
After shifting on uncomfortably high heels for the umpteenth time, Skye checked her phone and texted her father.
“He says he’s pulling up right now,” Skye said. Vell scanned the horizon and saw nothing coming across the ocean.
“Is he at the right-”
Vell was cut off, and forced to step back, as the ocean started to churn. The waves parted to reveal a jet-black submarine with a towering, jagged skull carved into the prow.
“Oh, right, supervillain,” Vell said.
The imposing submersible drifted to a halt, and a hatched on the side hissed open. Red lights beamed out from the darkness within, and a few seconds later, an armored killbot marched down a boarding ramp, flanked by a towering man in a long white labcoat. He had a jagged streak of black through his otherwise gray hair, and wore heavy glasses with thick black lenses that obscured his gaze and shadowed his face.
“Hi dad,” Skye said.
“Hello dear,” said the man behind the murder machine. He stepped off the boarding ramp onto the dock, as another killbot exited to flank him, and fixed his dark glasses on Vell. “And as for you...I am Doc-”
“Doc” stopped his imposing introduction to have a coughing fit. Skye stepped up and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Dad, did you take your meds today?”
“I did, I did,” the Doc said, between coughs. “Just a climate thing. I got on the damn submarine in Seattle, now we’re in the tropics, there’s pressure differentials, humidity.”
He let out a few more coughs and then cleared his throat loudly, before regaining his previous composure.
“Now, as I was saying,” he continued. “I am Doc Ragnarok!”
His boisterous shout failed to echo in the open air of the docks.
“Oh, good lord, that was terrible,” Doc Ragnarok said. “Can I try again?”
“I wouldn’t bother,” Vell said. “We’re by the beach, open air, the acoustics are terrible.”
“Oh, yes, you’re right,” Doc Ragnarok agreed. “Finally, someone who appreciates the details. You must be Vell, then, or is it Agent Harlan? Do you have a codename I should be using?’
“It’s just Harlan. Vell Harlan.”
“Yes, Skye has told me quite a bit about you,” Doc said. “You’ve escaped kidnapping attempts, outwitted undead thieves, stolen secret treasures.”
“Oh, he’s, uh, also a really nice guy, very helpful, top student,” Skye said, laying groundwork for the eventual boyfriend reveal.
“I expect nothing less,” Doc Ragnarok said. “I can’t begin to tell you how excited I am to face off against someone with real credentials again, Mr. Harlan. For the past few decades it’s been nothing but greenhorns using me as a test run, well-trained but no experience, no sense of style.”
“Well, I am nothing if not experienced,” Vell said. “Stylish, however...well, this tuxedo is a rental.”
“I can tell,” Doc Ragnarok said. He let out a single boisterous bark of delighted laughter. “Ah, look at us, already bantering. I missed this.’
Doc cleared his throat again and regained his ominous supervillain demeanor, as he snapped his fingers to make the killbots flank him.
“I must begin my preparations,” he said, in a voice shockingly distinct from his earlier conversational tone. “Challenge me if you dare.”
“Excuse me a moment,” said a voice somewhere behind the killbots. Doc snapped his fingers, ordering the crowd to part again, and Helena hopped forward on her crutches. Skye glanced at Vell curiously, and he shrugged in confusion. She wasn’t supposed to be here, for multiple reasons.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes, I was just reading your book earlier, ‘Practically Evil: A Guide to Classic Villainy’,” Helena said. “It’s a great read, but what really stood out to me is the section on classic henchman archetypes, specifically ‘The Igor’?”
She held up the book in question, which Vell noted had a picture of Doc Ragnarok holding a skull on the cover, and opened it to the section in question.
“Oh yes, I understand, completely,” Doc Ragnarok said. “As I said in the section opener, that information is presented for historical context, and I strongly condemn the typecasting of differently-abled persons like yourself into such roles. Regardless of my intent, I’m sorry if I caused any offense, and if you have feedback-”
“Oh, no, you misunderstand, I’m not offended, I’m actually intrigued,” Helena said. She turned the book around to quote a specific passage. “‘An outcast, often hunchbacked or otherwise misshapen in such a way to make them a pariah, physically handicapped but mentally gifted, driven to evil by the harsh treatment of judgmental peers’. I think it’s a very fitting role for me, and I’d love to give it a try.”
Vell had several very strong opinions about that, but kept all of them to himself.
“Well, it’s a bit short notice, but I’ll never discourage anyone from following the path of evil,” Doc Ragnarok said. “And this is a training exercise, after all, perfect time for you to train. Come along, minion! The more the merrier!”
Doc Ragnarok snapped his fingers again, and the killbots fell in line, this time with Helena in tow. A procession of smaller robots followed, carrying a worrying number of power cores, ray guns, and mutagens. Not for the first time, Vell began to wonder if this was a good idea. The recurring doubts got obliterated as Skye looked over her shoulder and winked. She was worth a lot more trouble than this.

Hello Hello my buds, bobs and babes. We are back at it again with the end of Human Trauma book two. In this one Martinez gets grilled by Ivorn of all people. and when the calm caring man decides you messed up enough that he is yelling at you. lord you must have messed up.
Let's get this bread.
------
Snow drifted lazily around Martinez, the first snowfall this year in Draun. Celna had been under snowpack for weeks, but in this massive city, this was untimely late. Each fresh flake glowed like embers in the evening light, burning just like the Human's ragged breath.
“Get the fuck out of my way,” Martinez barked at a group of aliens, ordering them to make a hole or get barreled through.
This group took the warning of the two-meter-tall man to hearty and skittered away like rats, allowing him to pass.
Those were the smart ones; not all had that many survival instincts. Martinez had crashed through a group of Ruqaura, their flabby builds jiggling as they fell to the duracreet and cursed his existence.
Fuck them; they did not matter, nor did the abject panic Martinez was stirring up in his wake. The Human certainly was causing a scene in the otherwise serene city. Whether the aliens thought he was being chased, was a crazy nutter on the loose, or that he was a deranged rapist, he did not care.
They could think he was a serial killer or a terrorist for all he cared. All Martinez cared about was reaching Shiksie and ensuring she had not done the unthinkable.
By the time Martinez had reached Shiksies posh neighborhood, sweat was flooding off his brow; on her front lawn, he nearly collapsed from vomiting, having just run the fastest he had done in years. Fuck even Raliegh could not hold a candle to the show of speed and athletics Martinez had demonstrated, and that man ran ultra marathons.
Through blurry vision, Martinez looked up at Shiksie’s house. It was as spartan as the last time he was here. The house showed off the owner's simple, straightforward personality, a bold defiance of the bright pastels and gaudily decorated homes of her neighbors.
At least the house had not changed.
Pounding on the door with hammer-like fists, Martinez roared into the gloom. “Shiksie, are you there?”
The milliseconds dragged out into hours; each breath dagged into eternity. With each passing eon, Martinez repeated the process with more desperation, beating the door as if it owed him money.
Each repetition drew on more of the same. A silence so deafening it crushed Martinez’s soul like an ant.
“Please, if you are in there, answer the door,” Martinez barked, punching the door hard enough that his knuckles bled. “I need to know you are alive.”
With no answer coming from inside, Martinez changed tactics. Between savage attacks on the door, he sent texts to everyone both he and Shiksie knew, trying to get any sitrep on her.
No one had any answers for him. They did not know if Shiksie was alright, nor had they seen her in well over a week. That only compounded his worry. Did they not care about her?
` Therein—Nothing, he did not even want to talk to anyone.
Sursee—Nothing other than word that she did not know.
Harsnis, of all people, also had no answers, and that man kept tight tabs on his workers.
What in God's name was going on?
The only one who gave Martinez more than sorrowful nothingness was Ivorn.
Ivorn: Come over to my place; we need to talk.
Considering that beating Shiksies' door was getting him nowhere, and Martinez was not about to break in, he hurried out of Shiksies' neighborhood, destined for Ivorn and Sursees' place in old town.
Martinez glanced over his shoulder, hoping to see Shiksie at her door, but no. All he saw were the neighbors peering from behind curtains at him. He ignored them.
—-
“Henry, it’s great to see you,” Sursee purred after opening the door to her and Ivorns' place.
Sursee was a Prinoral, a small feline-like species that was sociable beyond belief. Like many of her species, Sursee stood only as tall as Martinez’s chest and had traits that made her as cute as a button.
Sursee wore a long, draping dress held loosely around her dainty form. Its bright white color made her golden fur and amber hair stand out boldly. Her radar dish-like cat ears and long flicking tail made her the picturesque housecat-like woman.
“Please, come on in,” Sursee said, stepping abreast of the door and bidding his entry.
“Thanks, Sursee,” Martinez replied, entering and taking stock of their home, having never been here before.
Their apartment was quaint and comforting. Most surfaces and furnishings were colors like autumn, oranges, yellows, and browns, giving the space an overwhelmingly comfortable vibe. That matched with what smelled like freshly baked pumpkin pie, making the entire local breathtaking.
A menagerie of plushies was staged on shelves across the astel, adding splashes of vibrant summer to the otherwise warm home.
Martinez had no doubt the plushies were Sursee’s. She was a little ball of sunshine, and they fit her personality and aesthetic to a T.
“So, Henry, can I get a hug?” Sursee asked, her tail swaying happily behind her while she smiled as bright as sunlight.
“Not now. Where is Ivorn,” Martinez replied instantly.
Sursee pouted, her ears folding flat and tail tucking away. Any semblance of joy that overflowed from her died instantly.
Martinez appreciated that Sursee was listening to Ivorn's advice and not latching onto him like a heat leech, asking first. But he had not registered the sorrow in her—-this was the only time she had been told no to a hung from him. She expected it at this point, even if she was being polite.
“Ive is in his office,” Sursee said, pointing down the hallway.
Before Sursee registered that Martinez had moved, she turned around and picked up a plate of steaming cookies off the coffee table, hoping to help Maetinez feel better. While she did not know the man intimately, she was flawless at gauging emotions, and Martinez oozed sorrow.
“Would you want some—” Sursee trailed off, realizing the Human had already left her alone in the living room.
If pouting harder could be done, she did so. His leaving her like that felt like ice to the soul. She baked the cookies for him once Ivorn had told her Martinez was coming over. But the Human did not care about that or Sursee’s feelings.
Opening the indicated door, Martinez found Ivorn lounging behind a desk, reading a book with a massive smile across his face.
“What do we need to talk about?” Martinez asked.
Ivorn jumped at the intrusion and squirreled the book away. Not having expected Martinez for several hours. “Do you not know how to knock?”
“Where is she?” Martinez asked, ignoring everything but Shiksie.
Ivorn sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Not even a hello, huh? I get it.” Ivorn said. “Sit,” he finished by gesturing at a seat across from him.
Martinez was about to argue and tell Ivorn to get to the point, but the alien man could read him like a book and beat him to the punch.
“I get you are likely upset, but can I please explain,” Ivorn insisted.
“Fine,” Martinez grumbled and sat down, knowing this was the only way he would get any answers.
Over the next few minutes, Ivorn calmly explained what had happened with Shiksie after he head left. According to Ivorn, once Martinez had left Shiksie in her house, she drank; drank to the point it was nearly lethal.
By the time Ivorn had arrived, she was three beers deep and was about to have liver failure. If not for Martinez telling Ivorn she would have died. Following that, Shiksie spent several days in the ICU, needing it to not die.
After Shiksie was out of the ICU, she vanished, never showing up to work again. The director also told Ivorn not to mention anything that happened between Martinez and Shiksie to anyone, along with instructions to funnel the human to the Director once he returned.
“So you don’t know where she is?” Martinez said.
“No, I don’t,” Ivorn admitted.
“Then why the fuck am I here? I need to find her,” Martinez replied, standing up and heading toward the door.
“No, you are not,” Ivorn barked, stopping Martinez. “The director made it clear. The only reason you were not fired, and she was not in jail, was because Shiksie left.”
Martinez turned around and glared at Ivorn, knowing damn well what the director had pulled his friend into—a cover-up. Things like that were all to common in the Military and large corporations. It was easier to hush things up than face the reality of what happened. ;
“So for your own sake. Forget about her,” Ivorn sighed.
“Forget her! What the fuck are you on about. She is my friend; I have to help her,” Martinez argued, stepping forward and leaning on the desk with both hands. “She needs help.”
“Oh, does she? I dont think she does. You just want to feel better after having made her nearly kill herself.” Ivorne challenged with a growl—the last two weeks of having to hold his emotions overflowing.
Ivorn might like Martinez as a friend, but Shiksie deserved more than this. She was kind, a bit aloof, but for Kilera’s sake, why did she have to fall in love with a detestable asshole who thought he could solve everything alone.
Martinez paused and was taken aback by the challenge. Of course, he wanted to help her. Shiksie was his friend, mentor, and a woman he lov—er liked dearly. This was not about him but her.
“Are you high? I want to make sure she is OK,” Martinez replied, pointing at Ivorn.
“Oh, shut the fuck up and stop grandstanding,” Ivorn replied, standing to his full height. Usually, Ivorn, due to his gorilla-like build and posture, only stood as tall as Martinez. But at his full grandeur—he nearly touched the ceiling. “If you gave a fuck about her, you would have asked for help with her. You would not have gone into her house, knowing damn well she loved you.”
Ivorn stepped around the desk and jammed a finger into Martinez’s chest. “Now you have the fucking gall to think she needs you? How about you face reality and understand you fucked up and can't fix it.”
“Woah Ivor—” Martinez started backing up, but his friend persisted.
“How about you get that you are not some infallible bastion? What you have done has caused so many issues. My friend and mentor is gone; now we all have to suffer because you just had to not say no!” Ivorn growled, nearly pressing Martinez to the wall.
“We all like you. Sursee, Shiksie, Therein, Harnsis, fuck even me. But dude, you fucked up and have just to let bad enough die,” Ivorn said, backing up and giving Martinez some room. “Just go talk to the director in the morning. He will tell you the same.”
Martinez was going to argue to assure Ivorn he could fix this. But Sursee stepping into the room deflated any tension between the two.
“Can you two not yell at each other?” Sursee asked.
Ivorn turned to Sursee, returning to his usual leisurely posture. “Don’t worry about it, Sursee. Henry was just leaving. Right?” Ivorn said, looking at Martinez, his last shred of patience visible.
“Yeah. I am,” Martinez said, slipping past Sursee, who, for her lovable part, tried to reach out and grab him, but Ivorn stopped her and shook his head.
Martinez stormed out of the house and went toward his own, refusing to believe that he could do nothing to fix this. There was always something he could do. He just did not know the answer yet.
Without a doubt, even if he had to sell his soul to the devil, Martinez knew he would find Shiksie and make this all ok.
It just would cost him, blood, sweat, tears, and all he had to give.
​
------
So what did you all think of book two? Shiksie is MIA, Lysa is going through mood swings, and Martinez needs to get he cant fix it all on his own. We covered a lot in this book and we will cover even more in the third book where Chloe, Martinez, Lysa, and the rest of our cast will have to deal with a kidnapping ring, doctors, and their own physiology.
Please do not forget to updoot, and comment. I will see you all there.
your baker
-Pirate
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British farms can grow cheap food — but at what cost?
By Jeremy Clarkson (The Sunday Times, May 26)
Quite rightly there’s been a lot of brouhaha and gnashing of teeth about the Welsh government’s weed-friendly farming policy. But the problem isn’t confined to Wales. Almost every government in the civilised world seems determined to ethnically cleanse farmers from the countryside. And it’s hard to see why.
Oh sure, they all say that farming makes a lot of carbon dioxides and that they have net zero targets to meet, but obviously that’s not the reason. Because what’s the point of keeping the global temperature down if there’s nothing to eat?
So if climate change isn’t the driver, why, all across Europe and America and Australia, is life being made so wilfully and unnecessarily hard for the people who feed us? And why in England did the number of farms fall from 132,400 in 2005 to just 104,000 in 2015? Well, bear with me on this one, but it’s necessary at this point to talk about my recent weekend city break in Copenhagen.
I’ve always said that if I were forced for some reason to leave the UK and I needed to live and work somewhere else, I’d go to Copenhagen. You eat dinner at a sensible time, not four in the morning, you’re never distracted by the beach, and you can have conversations with a van driver about how the krone is controlled by the European Central Bank. I know because I did. Here I spend most of my van-based conversations trying to explain what “fragile” means.
Everywhere you go in Copenhagen there are attractive people having lunch in attractive restaurants before going back to the office to design some more attractive chairs. They put their solar farms between the motorway and the railway line, and all around the canals and docks there are no unsightly railings. If you fall in, you just get out again. And if you can’t swim, well, that’s your own silly fault.
And then there’s the business of getting about, which is done on a bicycle. Unlike here, though, no one wears a helmet or that idiotic Stasi stormtrooper combination of black tights and black shorts. Cycling is not some BLT+, pro-Hamas, kick-out-the-Tories political movement. It’s just something you do to get about, because even the crappiest little car is about a million pounds. And there are no hills.
I love pootling about on a bicycle there, stopping for a cup of coffee and a pastry, or to look in a little shop that sells nothing but lampshades made from thinly sliced ash. If Carlsberg did cities, they’d look like this.
But even here, amid all the loveliness, we find the awful Lawrence Stroll plague of Tommy Hilfiger, Prada, Chanel, Bulgari, Gucci and all those other multinational emporiums for the terminally dreadful, which now dominate every city centre, high-end Caribbean resort and airport terminal in the world. Terry Wogan once said he’d like to machinegun everyone on Henman Hill. I feel the same way when I’m presented with a branch of Boss.
I’m told that these fashion, luggage and sunglasses shops are everywhere because they are the only ones that can afford city centre rents and I’m sure that’s true. So that’s good for the city, the landlords and stupid people in white trousers who think it’s OK to spend £850 on a pair of shoes because it says Prada on the instep.
It’s not what we want, of course. We want interesting shops full of interesting things and interesting people, and we think it’s silly to spend £850 on a pair of shoes. But lots of little shops all selling different things? That’s too difficult to organise. It’s much easier to call some twat on a yacht and ask him to send over a light dusting of Hilfiger and a spot of Saint Laurent.
Which brings me back to farming. I’m sitting here now on top of a hill in the Cotswolds and I can see four other farms, all run by farmers who do things their own way. There’s a chap not too far away who produces eggs in mobile hen houses. There’s a lady who’s passionate about organic produce. Then there’s my neighbour who seems to be persevering with oil-seed rape, and down in the valley there’s a brother and sister rearing pigs. It’s all small and higgledy-piggledy and charming. And it’s comforting to know that 90 per cent of Britain’s remaining farms are family owned. But if you stand back and look at the land as a business, you’d have to say, “Er, hang on a minute. This makes no sense at all.”
So I find myself wondering. Is this really what’s going on behind the scenes? Has the agricultural equivalent of Lawrence Stroll had a quiet word with the government: “Look, if you can get these pesky family farmers to sod off, I’ll buy the countryside, put in a bit of rewilding to keep the nutters happy and then use economies of scale to make all the food we need at a nice price.”
Think about it. My tractor is currently sitting in the yard because there’s nothing for it to do. But if I owned all the land from the south coast to the Wash it’d be working 24/7. Tomorrow I could send it to Hertfordshire to uproot hedges and pull down copses to make bigger, more economically viable fields, and the day after it would be in Dorset sprinkling some nitrogen on the barley.
It would all be a model of just-in-time efficiency and hydroponic tomatoes, and soon all of Europe’s farmland would be in the hands of four or five multinationals who could use freebies and dodgy handshakes to get government ministers to pass whatever legislation the shareholders wanted.
Under the present system farmers can’t really get governments to do anything as there are too many of us and we all have different needs. It’d be like asking a classroom of kids what they want for Christmas and expecting them all to say the same thing. There’s always going to be one that wants peace and love and another who wants a subscription to Pornhub. And a Ferrari.
If the multinationals move in that would all be solved. Plus, it would be good for the global economy, good for investors and food prices will probably fall. And to make it all even more palatable fields will be full of signs saying “Monsanto Inc. Growing sustainably for hard-working families in the community”. I think for certain the world’s governments have this utopian vision in their heads. Which is why their policies are so skewed against farmers and the present system. They’d much rather have five guys who speak their language and have pit passes at the Monaco Grand Prix every year than five thousand who come into town once a blue moon to spray government buildings with their disgusting manure.
You may think they have a point. You may like the idea of cheaper food, but do you want to wave goodbye to the hedgerows and the copses? And do you want the British countryside to be owned and run by a private equity outfit in Chicago? Or let me put it to you another way: do you want a hydroponic Tommy Hilfiger tomato? Because I don’t.
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Forget Eton, Keir will be too busy with racist chairs
With the loudest voices in Labour yelling about slavery, microbes and gender, Sir Starmer won’t have the chance to be radical
By Jeremy Clarkson (The Sunday Times, May 26)
The Conservative Party’s biggest problem is that it’s no longer the Conservative Party. And that’s because it’s been listening and taking inspiration from people who are talking, not those who aren’t. And I have some evidence to suggest that this doesn’t really work.
Many years ago, when Top Gear was a swashbuckling festival of tyre smoke and innuendo that came into your living room every Sunday evening like a drunken uncle, I just sort of did what felt right every week. But then I started consulting a small but very keen fan site in America to see what they were saying. And what they were mostly saying is that they wanted more cars and less cocking about.
This meant, when it was time to start preparing the following week’s show, their views would be front and centre in my head. My gut would tell me to do one thing, but these faceless uberfans would be telling me to do something else. And I found myself more and more doing that.
It was ridiculous. We were making a show for a weekly audience of 350 million people, but I was shaping it to keep maybe 25 American car nuts happy. I dreaded their displeasure on a Sunday night, and I’d do anything to avoid it. And that brings me back to the Conservative Party.
I can’t remember how many MPs they’ve got left now and there’s no point looking it up because by the time you read this, another one will have crossed the floor or been tied up by “bad people” or divulged secret information to keep blackmailers happy or said something Islamophobic or taken drugs or invited someone to “go back to Bahrain”. The list is endless, but whatever the number is, I’m willing to bet that every single one of them signed up because they wanted to be a tub-thumping Thatcherite iron person.
But you can’t be Mrs Thatcher now because then you’d be labelled “far right”. And that’s the same as being Hitler. Better, if you want a quiet life, to be a mouse. A Liberal Democrat. A cyclist. With one eye on hard-working families in the community and the other on River to the Sea sustainable diversity. So that’s what the Conservative MPs did. They listened to the people who were speaking and never thought to think about the views of those who weren’t. And now they are screwed. Bud Lite busted. Done. Rishi’s kids are probably already down for schools in America.
This means that in a few weeks, we will have a Labour government and many of my Tory friends find this a bit scary. They worry about the future of private education and things like a wealth tax and how well we’ll fare on the world stage when most of the people in government actively hate Britain.
I’m not worried though, because while Sir Starmer has made all sorts of left-wing noises over the years, he’s not going to be able to do anything profound because he’s going to be surrounded by the people who’ve been doing all the talking these last few years. And what they’re going to be talking to him about, most of all, is penises.
Penises will be our saviour. He may be sitting there thinking about how he can alter capital gains tax or abolish Eton, but it’s going to be hard to put any of his plans into action — because every five minutes, someone’s going to run in and say they’ve seen a willy in the ladies’. And he’s going to have to break off to deal with that.
And while he’s in the ladies’, asking Big John if he wouldn’t mind maybe using the gents’ in future, someone else is going to call him and say that there’s been some misgendering in the gatehouse which means he’ll have to miss his five o’clock about sustainable development in the birthing people space.
The next day, he’s going to really want to get a grip on the non-dom issue, but at 7am he’ll get an email from someone who’s “reaching out” to say that the antique chairs used in the Cabinet Office were probably made by slaves and that to display solidarity with Palestine, the chairs should come from Gaza. This will have to be discussed in a meeting where it’ll turn out that all the chairs in Gaza are broken, which will cause the whole room to descend into a frenzied and frothing attack on Israel. The non-doms, as a result, will be able to breathe easy.
And then it’ll be lunch and Sir Keir, being a vegetablist, will order a salad. But just as he’s about to savour that first mouthful, someone with sustainable armpit hair — but possibly no penis — will lean over and ask if he understands how many beetles and microbes had to be killed before that salad could be grown. So then there will be a debate about what food can be eaten by hard-working members of the cabinet’s vegetarian community and it’ll be decided that it’d be best if, in future, everyone got their sustenance from licking the pot plants.
Foreign leaders will be calling him but he’ll be prevented from taking the calls because one of the components in his phone was made in Tel Aviv; nor will he be able to talk to the Treasury about a mansion tax because this would involve maths, and maths — as we’ve learnt — is racist.
Meanwhile, outside the corridors of power, the doctors will continue to go to work, the nurses will still get paid, the garden centres will continue to be open, the supermarkets will continue to sell food and car showrooms will still be able to provide you with a new set of wheels. It’ll all be normal.
Because the penis people who’ve been talking and talking and talking these last few years will still be talking and talking and talking. Only now they won’t be outside the building. They’ll be inside — which means, mercifully, we won’t be able to hear them as they busy themselves with the endless task of achieving absolutely nothing at all.
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And here's an excerpt from the Sun column:
Three years ago, when my farm was being battered over the head by planners at West Oxfordshire District Council, I became so desperate that I went to London to see the minister in charge of this sort of thing: Michael Gove.
I explained the problem. Farmers were being told by central government to diversify if they wanted to stay in business. But if they tried, they were stopped by the planners in local government.
Gove pulled all the right faces and made all the right noises and I left knowing full well nothing would come of it.
But blow me down with a feather, it did. And this week farmers were told they could turn their disused barns into gyms or workshops or even houses without the need for planning permission.
That’s great news for everyone in the business. Except me. Because to help win the battle to keep my farm shop, I gave up the rights to convert my barn.
I think that’s called taking one for the team.
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Clarkson's columns are regularly collected as books. You can buy them from his boss or your local bookshop.
P.S. Apologies for the delay in posting this week's columns. I was traveling on Monday (Memorial Day, a holiday in the US).

Hi all! Our company is going to exhibit in the TGS indie area this year, and we are seeking some information from people who have exhibited before to give us some guidance. We opted for the shell scheme, which includes some basic items such as walls, chairs, display tables, and lights. However, we are planning to include additional decor, screens, and props. With that said, we have some questions:
How far can we go with decorating the booth? What is actually allowed? Can we hire a booth design company to build decor and props? Can we set up an LED screen on the walls?
Regarding the exhibitor briefing, does TGS provide a list indicating distribution partners for renting computers, as well as booth design companies, merch providers, and marketing agencies? If not, any tips on how we can find reliable companies in Tokyo?
How many days prior to the event can we access the venue to set up our booth decor?
Any other information and tips will be much appreciated!
Thanks

Dr Russel Norman produced this excellent summary of Luxon's War on Nature, links included.
It can be challenging to keep up with this many environmental attacks, coming from different Ministers and in different stages of development. To make it clearer, I have tried to list all the anti-nature policies below, provide some background, and give an indication of their stage in the policy process.
When you list them all like this, it really is entirely fair to describe it as a ‘war on nature’.

1. Fast track approvals bill is a fast track to destruction

The premier vehicle for the government’s anti-environmental war on nature is the Fast Track Approvals Bill, currently before Parliament’s Environment Select Committee. This Bill has been well traversed elsewhere but it is worth noting here a few things.
Firstly, this bill gives three individual ministers with no particular knowledge or expertise the ability to green light pretty much any project they like with almost zero environmental constraints.
There are panels who will provide advice to Ministers on individual projects, however these panels are handpicked by the Ministers and the Ministers are free to ignore the panels’ recommendations. The Ministers have publicly and clearly voiced their disdain for environmental considerations.

No public input

Secondly, there is no opportunity for public input.
They can approve an industrial incinerator next door and you don’t even have the right to make a submission on it. It’s a pretty wild level of disregard for the general public, but of course those who have connections to the government will have plenty of chances to lobby ministers at fundraising dinners and suchlike.
This results in poor decision making. One of the things about public submissions is that information comes to the surface that was otherwise hidden. In the Pakiri sand mining case for instance it was revealed through public submissions that the sandmining company was not telling the truth about its actual sandmining practices and that its expert had overestimated the annual sand replacement by a factor of ten.
Under this regime, it isn’t what you know, or whether you have a good project, it’s who you know.

Court decisions overturned

Thirdly, this process can overturn court decisions in which projects have already been declined due to environmental impacts.
This is patently the case with the South Taranaki seabed mining proposal which was rejected by the Supreme Court. Independent judges who tested evidence submitted and cross examined in open court found that the applicant simply couldn’t demonstrate that their project wouldn’t cause immense harm.
But this is all replaced by closed panels giving advice to Ministers who will make decisions with zero public scrutiny. It’s banana republic stuff.

Blocking renewable energy projects

One of the impacts of this kind of Government-by-Ministerial-Fiat is that that rational and evidence based decision making is put to one side in favour of individual favours.
An example of this is the conflict between seabed mining and offshore wind in the south Taranaki Bight. A normal rational decision-making process could look at both, but in this case, it will come down to which companies can woo the three Ministers the best.

Corruption

Finally, this is a process which is wide open to corruption, as corporations pushing projects that cause environmental harm seek to be placed on the fast track list, with a virtual guarantee of approval.
Ministers could be corruptly influenced by bribes in cash or in kind, by jobs for their families, by jobs for themselves post-politics, or by campaign donations. Advisers who provide access to Ministers and determine which corporations get onto the list will be equally incentivised to act corruptly.
Already, some of the companies that Ministers have invited to apply for fast track are their donors. Mining company executives have had secret dinners with Ministers that were only revealed by accident and journalists asking questions. How many secret dinners will we never find out about?
Even the Ministry for the Environment analysis can be summarised as the bill:
‘could diminish local voices, violate Treaty of Waitangi commitments, significantly impact human and environmental health, open legal risks for the ministers involved, provide an unprecedented back door for prohibited projects, and erode the value of conservation land’
This single bill, if it proceeds and if businesses have the gall to use it, will cause widespread harm. It could include seabed mining, incinerators imposed on local communities, mining most everywhere including the conservation estate, marine farms everywhere, industrial irrigation driving water pollution, etc etc etc. It is a war on nature but it is also diminishing democracy and opening the door to corruption.

2. Dismantling freshwater protections

One of the truly remarkable things about Aotearoa is the scale of ground and surface water pollution and its impact on biodiversity and human health. This government’s war on nature is set to make it worse.

Things are pretty bad already

The Ministry for the Environment concluded that ‘Most of our indigenous freshwater fish and freshwater bird species… are either threatened with extinction or at risk of becoming threatened’. Intensive industrial dairy has poisoned the well across much of the South Island – Canterbury, Otago and Southland have poisoned rivers and groundwater.
Land and Water Aotearoa found that ‘There is not a single monitored lake shallower than 10 metres in very good condition.’ Environment Canterbury in 2024 found nitrate levels increasing in 60% of the wells it tested. Many parts of the North Island with intensive dairying such as the Waikato are also heavily polluted.
Under pressure from the environment movement and the majority of New Zealanders, the last government brought in a series of national regulations to place some constraints on agribusiness pollution, particularly the National Policy Statement on Freshwater Management. Agribusiness virulently and vociferously opposed these regulations.
The new government is setting about undoing these regulations with its war on nature.

Delaying regional freshwater plans

This began in December 2023 when Andrew Hoggard, the former head of agribusiness lobby group Federated Farmers and now Associate Agriculture Minister, announced that regional councils would be given a further three years to update their freshwater plans to make the plans consistent with the new national regulations introduced by the last government.
The purpose of the delay is to weaken or remove the national regulations before the regional councils develop their new regional freshwater plans which must be consistent with the national regulations.

Replacing the National Policy Statement

He also announced that they would start the process of systematically weakening the national regulations by replacing the National Policy Statement on Freshwater Management (NPSFM) with a weaker version.

Removing rules on intensive winter grazing

This was followed up in April 2024 with the announcement of an amendment to the RMA which will remove the rules controlling intensive winter grazing.
Intensive winter grazing is a widespread practice in Otago and Southland in which feed crops are grazed intensively through winter. This results in cows, often pregnant, living in mud sometimes up to their bellies with massive sediment flows into rivers and lakes. The sediment smothers freshwater ecosystems.

Ensuring Te Mana o Te Wai doesn’t apply to consents

Also included in this amendment to the RMA is a direction to regional councils that a national regulatory instrument called Te Mana o Te Wai must not be applied to the assessment of individual resource consent applications. Te Mana o Te Wai states that, when making decisions on the allocation of freshwater, the needs of ecosystems come first, the needs of human health second, and other uses such as irrigation third.
Te Mana o te Wai was the foundation for hearing panels rejecting applications to take water and cause more pollution in Hawkes Bay and Southland recently. Giant dairy polluter Fonterra and agribusiness lobby groups objected to this use of Te Mana o Te Wai and appealed the decisions.
The new Government aims to ensure that commercial users can get first consideration ahead of ecosystems or human health. This also means the lessons of the world’s biggest crypospridiosis outbreak in Havelock North are abandoned .

Freshwater Farm plans to be weakened or abolished

Alongside this Freshwater Farm Plans, which were a requirement for agribusiness managers to plan to reduce their water pollution, will be weakened if not abolished altogether.
As you can see it is an intensive and extensive attack on the rules protecting freshwater as part of the broader war on nature.

3. Removal of requirement to identify important areas of biodiversity

A large part of New Zealand’s remaining biodiversity is on private land with very little legal protection, which is leading to dramatic losses. This happens through wetland drainage, agricultural intensification, subdivisions etc.
Even as recently as 2009 Landcare Research reported that ‘Agricultural intensification over the past 10 years has led to the highest rate of native vegetation loss since European colonisation.’ Landcare Research was deeply unpopular with the government and agribusiness after making this finding.
In response to the widespread destruction of biodiversity on private land the National Policy Statement on Indigenous Biodiversity was introduced in 2023 after many years of discussion and consultation. The purpose is ‘to maintain indigenous biodiversity across Aotearoa New Zealand so that there is at least no overall loss in indigenous biodiversity’. A part of this national policy statement is a requirement for councils to identify ‘Significant Natural Areas’ in their area as a precursor to providing for their protection.
The idea of rules to protect biodiversity ran up against agribusiness, the key driver of the ‘highest rate of native vegetation loss since European colonisation’, and hence Federated Farmers deeply opposed these rules.
As part of the RMA amendment bill announced in April 2024, the Luxon Government plans to remove the requirement that councils identify ‘’Significant Natural Areas’’, and hence biodiversity on private land will not even be identified let alone protected so its destruction can continue unabated.

4. Transport – more motorways, fewer cycleways and less public transport

Land transport is New Zealand’s second biggest climate polluter after agribusiness and yet this government has embarked on a radical policy agenda to increase pollution. The war on nature can be illustrated just by listing some of the initiatives:

Cuts to public transport

They have cut funding to public transport, walking and cycling and increased funding to motorways as part of the draft Government Policy Statement on land transport. Auckland Council pointed out that entire suburbs would be left without access to public transport as a result of the cuts and that fares would increase.
Across the whole country this draft policy statement will lead to more transport pollution and fewer trips by public transport walking and cycling. It also centralises much of the decision making around transport by preventing Councils from building cycleways alongside roads funded by central government money.
As part of the draft policy statement they removed climate as a requirement for consideration in transport decision making.

Impact on young people

They have removed the subsidies for young people to use public transport at discounted rates, not only making the cost of living crisis harder for them and their families but pushing them towards car transport.
They are moving to increase speeds around schools which not only increases injuries it discourages families from sending their kids to school by bike or foot because they know that speeding cars are more dangerous.
This sits alongside the attacks on traffic calming measures such as raised pedestrian crossings, which the NZ Herald has been busy providing misinformation about. Many Councils are resisting the idiots in Wellington, thank goodness, and are lowering speed limits anyway.

Interisland ferry funding removal

They cut the funding for the interisland ferry terminals and cancelled the new ferries which have lower emissions. The ferries connect the train network as well as the roading network.
Kiwirail lost its Climate Bonds certification as a result and will repay the $350m it borrowed plus interest.
The cost to the Government of breaking the ship build contracts is thought to be in the hundreds of millions. It’s an expensive mistake which a future government will have to fix.

Ending subsidies for low-emissions vehicles

They ended the subsidies for low emissions vehicles resulting in a collapse in EV and small car sales and once again Ford Rangers at the top of the list (guzzling gas and killing pedestrians and cyclists).
While we can’t simply replace traffic jams of internal combustion engine cars with traffic jams of electric cars, nonetheless EVs are part of the low carbon solution.

Removing council’s transport plans

The Government has moved to end Wellington’s transport plan with its focus on public transport walking and cycling and move towards more cars. There remains uncertainty as to the future solution but clearly they want more cars.
They abolished the Auckland Regional Fuel tax of ten cents a litre which was used mostly to fund the building of the first stages of the Eastern Busway and new commuter rail carriages. The Eastern Busway has now been reduced in size, as the fourth phase is unfunded.
They cancelled the Auckland light rail project. This project was troubled, with the previous government heading down the most expensive track, but there are still better options than just cancelling it.
There’s even more but you get the sense of it. Their transport policy is plainly designed to increase climate pollution as part of their war on nature.

5. The war on dolphins, seals and marine life

The government’s war on nature is not only being fought on land. It extends to the oceans too.

Marine biodiversity

The majority of Aotearoa’s biodiversity is to be found in the oceans around us and the main driver of biodiversity destruction in the oceans is the fishing industry.
This is particularly the case for practices like bottom trawling, where heavy nets are dragged along the ocean floor destroying corals and sponges in order to catch fish near the bottom.
Over the last decade the environment movement and the majority of New Zealanders have been slowly pushing governments towards improving oversight of the fishing industry and restrictions on their most destructive practices. But the new government wants to go backwards…

South Pacific Regional Fisheries Management Organisation

There is an obscure inter-governmental organisation called the South Pacific Regional Fisheries Management Organisation (SPRFMO) that is meant to regulate fisheries in the international waters of the South Pacific.
The other countries in this forum are trying to restrict bottom trawling because of the immense harm it causes. As the last country actively bottom trawling in the international waters of the South Pacific, New Zealand is opposing these constraints, but under the last government had agreed to some modest restrictions.
The new government has changed its position, opposing protection of vulnerable coral habitats from trawling, and does not support any kind of restrictions on bottom trawling.

Cameras on boats

After the various scandals led to a 2016 Ministerial Inquiry into the Ministry of Primary Industries’ regulation of the fishing industry, the Key Government agreed to implement cameras on boats to better monitor illegal behaviour such as fish dumping, dolphin killing etc.
These cameras were finally rolled out over the last few years to about 120 fishing vessels and have so far resulted in a dramatic increase in reporting of dolphin and bird killings and fish dumping.
But Shane Jones, Minister of Fishing and recipient of seafood industry campaign donations, doesn’t like them and wants to review them. Another option the government is canvassing is to hand them over to Fishserv, the fishing industry owned company that oversees the Quota Management System.
None of these are good options but where it ends is still unclear.

Increasing catch limits

In spite of the collapse of numerous fisheries, the Minister of Fisheries decided to increase catch limits.
The population of one of the species, the southern bluefin tuna, has collapsed 92% since the height of fishing madness in the 1960s. This follows the collapse of orange roughy fishery, hoki, scallops, crayfish etc etc.
And with regard to killing endangered New Zealand sea lions the new Government decided there would no longer be an upper limit on the number of sea lions that the fishing industry can drown in trawl nets.
This will no doubt be the tip of the iceberg as more change emerges from the Minister.

6. Increased climate pollution

Aside from the long list of policies above that will increase climate pollution (e.g. transport), the government has introduced other policies to increase emissions. The impacts from these policies mean the government’s war on nature will be felt internationally.

Restarting offshore oil and gas exploration

The global battle against fossil fuels has both a supply and demand side.
On the demand side are the battles around fossil fuel electricity generation and internal combustion engines vehicles.
But the supply side is also critical because, as the International Energy Agency found back in 2021, we can’t afford to bring more fossil fuel supply online if we are to avoid catastrophic warming. The head of the IEA said: “If governments are serious about the climate crisis, there can be no new investments in oil, gas and coal, from now – from this year.” We know that once oil companies spend vast amounts to find and develop new fossil fuel reserves they will continue to sell them into the global fossil fuel market.
Hence the decision by the New Zealand Government in 2018 to stop issuing new offshore oil and gas exploration permits was a critical step forward in the global fossil fuel battle. Other countries have now joined this movement and there is a growing group of governments and civil society groups supporting a Fossil Fuel Non Proliferation Treaty.
The announcement by the Luxon Government that it will restart the issuance of offshore oil and gas exploration permits is a global leap backwards. It’s another sign that their fighting a war on nature, not fossil fuels
The Government is looking to subsidise the industry by providing insurance against future policy changes. They are also looking to remove the requirement that oil companies provide a clean up bond to cover future clean up costs. These clean up bonds were introduced after Tamarind oil company went bankrupt leaving the taxpayer with a $300m bill to clean up after them.
The Government is falsely claiming that the recent electricity shortages are linked to the 2018 decision to stop issuing new permits for oil and gas exploration – an argument that is transparently false.

Changing the way methane warming is measured

The global livestock lobby has a policy agenda to change the way that the climate warming of methane is measured. This is to make it look like methane causes less warming than it really does.
They want to move away from the global standard accepted by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, as standard called GWP100. They want the world to adopt a standard called GWP*. Under GWP* New Zealand’s methane is recategorised as not causing warming! Agribusiness likes GWP* because they won’t need to cut emissions!
The New Zealand agribusiness lobby groups are part of this project, and now they have the former head of Federated Farmers in Government, they have their chance to push it. The Government has established a panel to look into the measurement of the warming of methane emissions. I would be very surprised if the panel does not recommend the adoption of GWP*.
Both the Climate Commission and the Parliamentary Commissioner for the Environment have concluded that there is no basis to review the science around the measurement of the warming effect of methane.

More cash for magic bullets

The New Zealand Government has given hundreds of millions of dollars to look for magic bullets to reduce methane emissions from dairy cattle and other livestock. So far no magic bullets have been discovered but the new Government has thrown another $18m at this greenwashing.
The purpose of all this is to avoid having to cut emissions by doing things that actually work like reducing fertiliser use and stocking rates.

Zero Carbon Act – greenwashing law retained

It is noteworthy that a Government conducting a war on climate and biodiversity policy has kept the Zero Carbon Act (ZCA) in place. But there is a good reason for that – the ZCA was largely a greenwashing exercise as was revealed once it was tested in court.
When Lawyers for Climate Action went to court to try to use the ZCA to actually force emissions cuts on the government, the Climate Minister, James Shaw, went to court to argue that the Paris Agreement climate goals referenced in the ZCA were merely ‘aspirational’ and not binding on the New Zealand government.
This was in spite of Shaw saying publicly that the ZCA made the Paris target legally binding on the government. Shaw won the case and the climate lawyers lost. The new Government is very fond of the ZCA because it is just ‘aspirational’.

He Waka Eke Noa – its job is done

One final piece of the puzzle is pricing agribusiness emissions. This was delayed throughout the course of the last government by the He Waka Eke Noa process. This will now be either quietly euthanised or kept as another greenwashing figleaf, but we can be sure there will be no price on agricultural emissions – they will be subsidised by the rest of us

Update

We have now found out that the politician chairing the select committee considering the fast track bill, David MacLeod, has illegally failed to declare $180,000 in donations. Moreover, some of those donations come from a major shareholder in the seabed mining company TTR. TTR is planning to use the fast track legislation to circumvent the Supreme Court decision blocking its seabed mining plans. In fact one of the decision-making Ministers under the Fast Track law, Chris Bishop, wrote to TTR inviting them to apply to use the fast track. So a major shareholder of TTR gave campaign money to the National Party MP who chaired the select committee on the fast track bill while the National Party Minister invited TTR to apply for a fast track.

Be me, walking to get my haircut. Take a hit off some dude’s joint at the bus stop and then I’m at Supercuts. It’s completely empty at this time on a Tuesday, which I wasn’t surprised about. There’s 3 stylists in the building currently, and one takes care of me and gets me into the chair. I’m vibing, showing them pictures of the type of cut I want and relaxing in the chair while the stylist does her thing. About 30 minutes into the haircut the bell on the door jingles, signaling another customer entering the store.
“Hello, welcome to Supercuts, how can I help you?” My stylist says. All of the other employees are in the back of the store, but it’s obvious there are people on the clock and working.
The man ignores her. I open my eyes at this point and glance towards the counter. It’s an older man, definitely firmly in the boomer range. He doesn’t say anything, just looks at the stylist currently doing my hair. She again repeats herself, asking if the man is a walk in or if he has an appointment. Finally, the guy replies “I’m a walk in.”
“Great! If you can just write your name on the sheet of paper in front of you we’ll get right with you.”
The man doesn’t move, instead still staring down the stylist and myself. Then he says, rather impatiently, “Well is there a wait?!”
The stylist working on me doesn’t even look up from my hair as she says, “Well it doesn’t look like there’s a wait.” (Or something of that effect, lol.)
The man makes a deep sigh and storms out the door, pealing off in his car a couple seconds later. It had taken everything in me not to laugh while he was storming towards the door but as soon as he was out I started laughing. The manager came out of the back and I started telling her what had just happened. I can only assume the man wanted a personal greeting and someone immediately at the desk to whisk him back to a seat (which would have happened if he’d had the patience to wait 3 more seconds.)
My stylist didn’t get in trouble, all three of us just kind of laughed about how weird the interaction was. It was super weird, the man was acting strange as fuck not replying to the stylist working on me.

Welcome back to my running series of WWF PPV Reviews from a ‘blind’ perspective (I have no idea what’s going to happen; the results, the feuds or how good any of the matches will be). I have always heard stories of the attitude era and golden age but never watched it myself so I set myself to watching every single PPV event chronologically. I am also watching Wrestling Bios ‘reliving the war’ series to keep me updated inbetween the events with the feuds, and to get excited about upcoming matches.
Before I review the matches, based on the past few episodes of raw and last PPVs I’ll let you know, going into the event, which match I’m most excited for and which feud I’m most excited to see.
I really can’t pick between the rumble and HBK and undertaker. I think I’ll split it as the match I’m most excited for is the rumble whilst the feud I want to see develop is HBK vs Michaels, those two always have fantastic chemistry together.
WWF Royal Rumble 1998 Match Ratings
Goldust vs Vader 1.5/5
Six man Mini Tag team match 2.25/5
The rock vs Shamrock 3/5
New Age Outlaws vs LOD 1.5/5
1998 Royal Rumble 3/5
HBK vs Undertaker 4.25/5
Mike Tyson is in the building! I am a huge boxing fan and I sincerely believe Tyson is the greatest of all time bar none, so seeing him being involved in the ppv in whatever way he is, is so exciting!
What in the world is this new Goldust gimmick I mean I know they wanted to change it up but man… this is something else. After literally doing blackface the other week in raw as well… eugh just a weird gimmick and a miss for me. It’s like a weird fetish character… horrendous 😂.
The match was average, definitely wasn’t Vader at his best and I do hope we still see him in the rumble. The crowd was behind Vader and rightly so after all the bs Goldust has been putting him through; constant attacks backstage out of nowhere. The finish was pretty cool looking with with luna getting kind of Vader bombed and onto Goldust so that was a good ending. But it was short and not all that sweet.
This next match is more filler but 1/2 times I’ve seen these mini wrestlers they’ve done well so let’s see what they’ve got. Hoping for something fast paced and short.
I know it’s bad if I laugh at it but I’m sorry I just find it hilarious when max mini hits a closeline and the ring doesn’t even make a noise when the opposing wrestler hits the mat. To be fair to them they’re doing exactly what I wanted, a lot of impressive pure wrestling manoeuvres making for a fast paced match with not a lot of breaks. Lawler is absolutely brutal on commentary as per usual with these mini matches, which always makes me chuckle. We see Mike Tyson watching the match from the sky box and don’t you just love him, enjoying the mini match, just having a good old time. My god these mini wrestlers love arm drags don’t they I tried counting them and I literally lost count, if that’s your favourite move to watch make sure you don’t miss this one!! It was just good fun filler, they didn’t have a deep roster but in terms of some filler they’ve put on this was decent. They also got to show off their aerial skills as each wrestler performed different flying moves on the outside which was cool too.
We then see NOD trying to get into Austin’s dress room only to see an Austin 3:16 Styrofoam with a middle finger, this made me burst out laughing, I get the feeling that was Austin’s idea.
Then, I’m not sure if this is the first time we’ve seen him, but we see the future “greatest wrestler in the world” Shane McMahon sat with Mike and Vince. I wonder when he’s going to start to become involved. People may not like him now but back in the day all I remember is him doing extremely dangerous aerial moves of all sorts, you gotta hand it to him with the dedication to entertainment in the business.
We then get a promo by the rock and he sounds so much more confident and comfortable in this iconic heel role, he’s very quickly getting into this role. And for the first time when he makes his way to the ring there’s a divide between the crowd with a few “Rocky” and “Rocky sucks” chants being mixed in there.
I thought shamrock and rock actually had a great match here, they both performed well, with rock being more of a standout but I could have bias. I thought the finish was unique and creative with the rock playing dirty but getting a great heel decision in the end. Shamrock snaps again at the end of the match and decided to lay into the ref for his decision, and the crowd is really behind shamrock here. There aren’t really any amazing highlights to talk about just that both men performed well and this I’m assuming was setup to continue quite an interesting feud. Shamrock has really risen in popularity and, although negative for the most part, everyone’s talking about the Rock!
Then we see more wrestlers backstage trying to find stone cold but it breaks out into… -.-… a gang war… no comment.
Going into the LOD match I really hope they can pull something good off with this match it’s been a good while since I’ve seen something classic with them involved, and considering their legendary status I’m routing for them!
And… yeah I think it may be past their prime time to be honest. Recently, although they are still very popular with the crowd, they just can’t really seem to have a great match. Maybe it’s the people they’re working with or something; LOD and NAO didn’t have great chemistry but the post match was far more interesting than the actual match with hawk physically breaking out of handcuffs to go and help his teammate, the DQ finish was cheap though. Onto the big match of the night!!
There’s a stone cold promo video and during it we see the back of his truck which at first I thought read 100% pure ass. My brain bruh..
I think I’m going to give my overall impressions of the rumble after the match rather than a running commentary like I did with the last rumble so let’s see how it is! I can’t lie, with cactus jack starting I’m excited for this.
SUCH AN IMPROVEMENT over last years rumble. A much more complete roster made for a way better experience overall. I think not having so many wrestlers no one knew coming in just improved the whole experience so much. The pop for Austin was a huge highlight for me; it was absolutely insane! Seeing everyone just waiting for him to come in only for him to appear from the other side of the ring and just tear into literally everyone in the ring, f***ing awesome. I thought it was a little weird that after everyone was so focussed on him they immediately forgot about the whole bounty on Austin thing that was happening when he started brawling with people, so that was a bit of a missed opportunity.
I thought the start of the match was a really fantastic way to open the rumble as well having cactus jack and chainsaw man guy thing just going at each other with chairs and weapons made for instant entertainment. That ending was iconic as well, the rock with his heel rise and Austin being on top of the world trading blows 1v1 at the end of the rumble, just brilliant.
One thing I didn’t like was that there weren’t enough individual moments in the rumble; most of the match there were more than 6 or 7 people in the ring so no one got the chance to really shine on an individual level except the men left at the end. But the roster wasn’t that deep and it’s still on show here but it was a lot less obvious than last years.
We saw all three iterations of mick foley which was hilarious and a great way to fill some of those entrant slots with someone recognisable. I was surprised they didn’t have Kane involved in the rumble in all honesty but at this point in his career he’s only there to feud with undertaker and be a sort of presence in the wwf rather than an actual wrestler.
My favourites of the match were mick foley, the rock and Steve Austin, and im sure that’s to no one’s surprise, they just stole the show here. It was a little predictable having Austin win but that didn’t take away from my enjoyment of the match. Fun rumble, not the best but way better than the 1997 rumble. Time for the main event!
And what a great main event this was! Shawn and undertaker just produce absolute gold, they never seem to have a bad or even average match! I just adore their chemistry I can’t get enough of them in the ring together and it was good to see not a lot of involvement from the other DX members and just let Shawn and taker battle in the ring.
Undertaker is going to win after a very good looking jumping tombstone into the casket but then a load of the back locker room for some reason come to the ring and lay into the undertaker, only to be stopped by Kane coming to the ring and saving his big brother… but then he turns on taker AGAIN!! This bas**rd. There was a pyro botch for Kane when he did his usual arm raise but this didn’t take away from the moment too much. This was all just building up the undertaker and Kane feud more and more and I’m all here for it. Kane was just so badass in this era. I would’ve liked to have seen more weapons or something in this match since it was no DQ but it is what it is, the wrestling was pure entertainment.
Kane then literally lights undertaker on fire at the end of the match and this is all setting up for a revenge story from undertaker. I thought they did this feud so well.
Overall I thought the event was good, almost great, but just good. There weren’t too many dull matches or anything, and there were some great story elements all throughout the ppv involving lots of different superstars. We’re seeing some really big developments for the all time mega stars of the industry during this ppv and I love it! The rumble was one of the better ones I’ve seen and had a great main event to top everything off.
Overall rating 3.25/5

*throwaway account * Backstory I’ve been doing hair for 7 years now. I was doing really well at a salon in downtown where I live. Worked there for 5 years but after the pandemic and a few riots that happened on the same street. (A building on the same street was set on fire and first floor businesses were broken into, not the salon since it was on the second floor) after that a lot of clients stopped coming to the salon either for financial reasons or Not feeling safe downtown anymore.
After that the salon kind of stopped caring about employees and focused on getting money no matter what. Honestly they even hired way too many stylists for the amount of chairs. They ended up cutting our shifts in half to the point none of use were making a living wage. They let clients treat us horribly and wanted us to do services that they didn’t even offer education on but still wanted us to do, etc.
After 2 years waiting for it to get better like we were promised, I decided to leave. Us stylists were making about or less than $13,000 a year. (I lived back at home from 2018-2022) I was done and they offered no help at all for gaining the salon’s reputation back after they ruined it during the pandemic.
I shadowed a different salon that was more of a luxury salon. Meet a lot of the girls there and at the time they all seemed like they were all thriving. Making $40,000+ their first year working there. Seemed like the perfect place, payed for continuing education, stylist werent struggling financially, everyone seemed nice/supportive. The owner was going to let me current clients keep the prices they were use to and have new clients pay the new salon prices.
Boy was I wrong. Ended up being the worst decision Ive ever made. The first 2 months seemed fine but after that I lost a lot of my clientele due to my bosses lies and how toxic the environment was. My family keep telling me to just keep at the new place and things will work out.
My boss started bullying me and my clients. Gave me food that i was highly allergic to and said it was free of my allergens. Have black outs for an entire week or more. Would throw away my things, talk shit about me to my clients, had other girls bully me, had one girl physically run over my body in the parking lot, started stealing money from my paychecks. We only got 1 day off a week and even then she had mandatory team builds on that one day off. I could write a novel on all the things she did to me but thats not the point of this story.
I didn’t know what to do at the point because i was finally making a somewhat livable wage for the first time in 2 years. Plus i had just moved out of my family’s house and in with my boyfriend. It got so bad To the point she was threatening me and i would leave crying every day. (She literally made so many of us suicidal and often body shamed us, etc)
Finally 2 days before my one year anniversary there I noticed my upcoming appointments were being cancelled like crazy. I went in to look and apparently the boss was canceling all my appointments. That day I packed up my shit and left for good. Sent out emails that night letting my clients know and that until i found a new home I was more than willing to do home calls or rent a spot on days of there appointments.
I had over 60+ clients being super supportive and wanting to follow me. It ended up taking me a month before I found a place and another month of sharing with someone until they were able to move into a bigger place. I decided to do a salon suite because I honestly could not deal with the abuse from working at a salon. Plus had a large number of clients willing to follow. Turns out my old boss had been bad mouthing me on the salons social media, was sending out emails stating that I no longer do hair or telling clients that I was absolutely unstable. Had currently employees posted pictures of me on their business social medias making fun of me and telling people not to visit me, etc. I suddenly had a few old clients messaging me saying to block their number and never contact them.
Old boss just shut down the salon 3 months ago after everyone left to open up suites as well because of her abuse. Currently has lawsuits against her and might possibly be a flight risk.
She really made my business suffer a lot. Clients are slowly coming back upon seeing the way she treated me. But the damage has been done. I haven’t been getting anything that is social media worthy so I haven’t been posting a lot of before and afters but im still posting availability, tips and tricks and open up the salon with me.
I’ve also been posting in facebook groups in the area as well. Im not sure what else to do. A lot of people in my area just care if their stylist is insta or tiktok famous so they can get clout.
Im not sure what to do, ive taken out a loan to pay for the rent and my significant other as taken on alot of the bills around the apartment but I feel almost worthless at this point. I had such a good clientele until the last salon. I feel like its really taken a toll on the relationship. Though he says it hasn’t but i feel like I cant help contribute like i use to. Any ideas for marketing or bring in more clientele? Should i re brand or should i give up the industry? I’ve had my salon suite since October.
TLDR: old boss abused and ruined my reputation and now im in a suite struggling and old salon has been shut down due to all employees leaving/ has lawsuits against her.

AEW Collision, Mar 1, 2025:
Kurt Angle's TNT Championship Open Challenge
[Kurt Angle decides that to celebrate his Title win, he will be giving one unlucky soul a chance to be battered, broken, and rendered unable to keep competing. Whoever accepts this challenge is in store for a career ending slaughter, where Doc Samson will force them to retire.
Kurt waits in intense arrogance before a series of tranquil chords hit in quick succession, a sinister appetizer for what's to come, the words KATSUYORI SHIBATA fill the screen, and The Wrestler himself stomps to the ring.
Shibata - Angle, face to face.
Commentary is keen to mention Shibata is one person who definitely wouldn't feel any fear in the face of a threat like that.
"Katsuyori Shibata, well this is better than I imagined it would be. Now I get to finish what God couldn't and retire you for good."
And with those words, a declaration of war has been written and signed.
Shibata is able to match Angle for grappling early, keeping Kurt guessing with a series of holds. He gets hold of Kurt's arm at one point and is able to do some fair damage with an armbar. Kurt gets frustrated with Shibata who smiles at Kurt after avoiding his umpteenth submission attempt.
Angle slaps Shibata across the face, Shibata's head goes down, his eyes go cold. He throws a boot that rocks Angle in the face, Kurt goes to the corner where Shibata meets him with repeated forearms to the mouth. Shibata runs to the opposite corner, Angle meets him there with a charging shoulder thrust to the ribs.
Angle to the opposite corner, Shibata meets him with a pump kick, Shibata to the opposite corner, Angle charges in for a rolling axe kick, Shibata moves, Angle hits the turnbuckles, Angle upside down in the corner, Shibata to the other side of the ring, Katsuyori takes a moment to compose himself, focusing his energy before charging in for a corner dropkick crushing Angle into the turnbuckles.
Shibata pulls Angle up and gets a stiff forearm, Angle returns but his dominant arm is weak from the early attack by Shibata. The two begin to trade forearms, Shibata always seeming to strike quite a bit harder.
Angle gets a flurry of right and left forearms backing Shibata up, Angle runs the ropes and Shibata gets a spin kick to the midsection before kicking at the back of Angle's knee. Shibata begins to target the not fully healed knee of Kurt now, locking figure fours and bow and arrow submissions.
Angle is reeling on the ropes after the onslaught, Shibata runs the ropes and looks for a big boot to send Angle out, Angle catches the leg, hooks around the neck and suplexes Shibata to the floor. Angle dives off the apron crushing Shibata at ringside before hitting a belly to belly suplex into the barricade.
Angle shoves Shibata back in and attempts a Moonsault, Katsuyori avoids and Angle backs into the corner where Shibata gets a big boot. He grabs Angle by the back of his neck, sprinting to the opposite side of the ring and connecting with another big boot once he plants Angle there.
He grips Angle by the back of his neck and gets sixteen forearms to the ear and jaw area, he gets a running start to the other corner before circling back with another corner dropkick.
Angle rolls to the apron to create distance and Shibata follows him there. A flurry of forearms connect yet again before Shibata backs up and gets a running dropkick to the downed Angle against the steel post!
Shibata sends Kurt back in and gets a two count, Angle pulls himself up on the ropes and Shibata looks for a German, Angle grips onto the ropes for dear life, Shibata lands a straight axe kick to the targeted arm and Angle recoils, Shibata runs the ropes and Kurt gets a rolling axe kick. Angle looks into the camera, beads of sweat running down, a frenzied look in the face, black mouth-piece in.
He grabs Shibata up and gets a big belly to belly, he's on all fours at this point, stalking, waiting for his next opening. German Suplex, yet again, completes the trio by throwing Shibata onto his head. Shibata clutches at his neck, but Kurt won't stop. Fallaway Slam by Angle, bodyslam by Angle. Kurt climbs and lands a moonsault to the upper body and face of Shibata, crushing his skull against the canvas.
Shibata is able to answer the count, so Angle stalks a dazed Shibata. Angle Slam, Katsuyori on his feet, STO by Shibata. As Angle recovers from the STO, Shibata is able to get some breathing room from the series of throws he took. Both men get to their knees, head to head, eye to eye. They begin exchanging forearms once more, but this time Angle has a more even playing field due to the headache beginning to start for Shibata.
Angle begins mixing in uppercuts with his forearms, Shibata catches him on one of these with a backslide, Angle kicks out and Shibata greets him with a chop across the neck, spinning backfist, a trio of forearms. Angle stops reacting, and stares up at Shibata, he lets out a shout and Shibata goes for a fourth forearm. Angle ducks and pushes Shibata into the corner before dragging him out with a Rolling German Suplex planting Shibata on his head.
Shibata on his hands and knees, trying to catch his bearings and make sense of the fog in his vision. Kurt climbs and gets a picture perfect moonsault to the kneeling Shibata. Katsuyori barely gets the shoulder up, Angle stares in disbelief at the ref, leaving himself still pinned over Shibata.
Shibata latches onto the arm getting a Kimura applied on the wounded Angle. Angle writhes until he finally grasps the bottom rope to force separation. Shibata drags Angle into the center of the ring. He tees off on the shoulder blade with kicks, he slaps Angle in the back of the skull sending a cloud of perspiration flying.
Shibata calmly crosses his legs, sitting down across from the crawling Angle. Angle gets to his knees, the two begin chopping each other in the face. Shibata gets a knife edge chop to the ear of Angle, and Kurt gets enraged. He stands up and begins another forearm exchange with Shibata. Angle wins this time backing Shibata into the corner, repeated shoulder thrusts to the ribs follow, Shibata taking a seat.
Angle with a corner running dropkick of his own! Angle goes for it again, Shibata rises and looks for a pump kick, Angle catches him, hugs Shibata in and gets a fallaway belly to belly. Angle beckons Katsuyori up and runs the ropes, Shibata stops him with a leg lariat.
Angle crawls into the corner and Shibata starts repeatedly stepping on his head. Angle tries to crawl out of the ring, but gets paintbrushed with the boot of Shibata. He drowns Angle with scrapes of his boot, stomps and kicks. The referee eventually backs up Shibata.
Shibata brings Angle out of the corner with a snapmare takedown followed by a soccer kick to the spine. He runs the ropes for a penalty kick, which Kurt catches and turns into an Ankle Lock, with the leg trapped he pulls Shibata into a German Suplex.
Shibata on his hands and knees, Angle begins a waistlock and tries to bear hug Shibata on the canvas, Shibata crosses his legs in this position. Angle rolls Shibata, but he lands crossed legged again. This continues until Angle gets frustrated, Shibata begins elbowing Angle in the side of the face and Kurt releases his grip. He runs the ropes and Shibata gets him with a big boot followed by a German Suplex of his own.
Angle pops up and Shibata turns around into a rolling axe kick, Shibata doesn't fall, pump kick by Shibata. Shibata from the corner to a stunned Angle, big boot, Angle avoids, German Suplex by Kurt. He maintains waist control and pulls Shibata up, Shibata begins elbowing Angle to force release. Angle grips the wrist to prevent Shibata from creating distance.
Shibata kicks him in his bad arm, and Angle lets go. He oblique kicks him in his knee before kicking away at the head of Angle. Angle desperately headbutts Shibata in the chest, igniting something in Katsuyori. Shibata turns around, takes a deep breath, turns to Angle and refuses to do what he desperately wants to, thinking of his health.
He forearms Angle down to the mat and gets an octopus hold applied, Angle scrambles to the ropes, fighting out. Penalty Kick by Shibata. Angle kicks out and Shibata locks a sleeper. A focused trance look on the face of Katsuyori as he strangles Angle.
Kurt grips the ropes to force the break, Shibata clubs the arms away, grips back on, sleeper suplex. Shibata with a spinning backfist, Angle catches the wrist, he grips the other wrist, backslide, Shibata rolls through, clothesline by Angle, ducked, Shibata ties him up in position. He spins Angle out, he readies his hand, he connects.
BitchMaker to Angle.
Kurt collapses and Shibata takes his time to catch his breath and focus up, all that focus goes into repeated, poised strikes to the shoulder, underarm and elbow of the damaged Angle. Angle grips onto the wrist to try and drag his way up, Shibata kicks his grip away. Shibata goes to run the ropes, but Angle grips onto the wrist again, avoids a clothesline attempt, traps both arms. Straight-Jacket Suplex on Shibata.
All of the weight coming down on his head and neck. Angle pulls up Shibata, German Suplex #1, Shibata begins elbowing Angle in the ear, German Suplex #2, Shibata still driving his elbow into the ear of Angle, Release German Suplex. Shibata lays motionless, blood begins trickling out of the ear of Angle, physical evidence of the desperation Shibata felt.
Angle brushes off the doctor's attempts to check on him, Kurt with an Angle Slam, but Shibata digging into the wound on the ear, Angle loses his balance, Shibata on his feet. Shibata hooks on from behind, trapping Angle's arm.
するか死ぬか
He spins Angle out, rainmaker style and closes the gap with a sickening headbutt to Kurt. Kurt collapses, but so does Shibata. He lays exhausted, head throbbing. Finally after over a minute, he musters the strength to crawl to the cover.
One, Two, Kurt kicks out. Kurt rises before Shibata who is kneeling, clutching his head. Angle pulls him up for a German, but Shibata refuses to go, clutching the back of his head and shaking his head. It's not an act of defiance or resilience, this is a man trying to stay alive.
Angle, despite having animalistic tendencies, has respect for Shibata after tonight and he shows mercy. He sends Shibata into the ropes chest first and when Katsuyori rebounds, he's caught with an Angle Slam. A cover by Kurt over the defenseless Shibata leads to one simple phrase, but one that intensifies the fullness in Shibata's head.
'And Still.']
Kurt Angle (c) def Katsuyori Shibata to retain the TNT Championship
AEW Big Business Dynamite, Mar 19, 2025:
Kota Ibushi vs Kurt Angle (c), TNT Championship
[Shortly after defeating Shibata in the hardest hitting match of Angle's career, he begins to lash out at the company that gave him his first big break. New Japan.
He states that he can work circles around any NJPW darling that think they're special because they had a few flashy matches in a company nobody watches.
This summons Kota Ibushi, vignettes have been airing teasing his return, but he finally appears coming face to face with Angle. The following week is Big Business and the bout is on.
Ibushi's fluid striking is able to pause Angle, Kurt attempts to make up for the strike deficit with suplexes, but Kota is incredibly spry and able to land safely on most everything Angle throws at him.
Ibushi with a series of strikes ending in a roundhouse, Angle ducks, German Suplex, Ibushi lands on his feet. Dropkick by Kota sends Kurt to the floor. Ibushi with a Triangle Moonsault to ringside, leveling Kurt.
Ibushi sends Kurt back in and goes for a Last Ride, Angle escapes and lands a German Suplex to Ibushi. Kurt begins to climb the turnbuckles, but Ibushi gets up and powerbombs Kurt from the middle turnbuckle, Angle kicks out, and Ibushi flips him onto his knees for a Kamigoye!
Angle catches the knee, and gets an Ankle Lock applied. Ibushi rolls free and sends Angle into the corner. Knee blast in the corner by Kota. He runs the ropes and Angle catches him with a belly to belly over the top rope.
Kurt climbs for a Moonsault to ringside, Ibushi avoids. Ibushi charges into the ring, Triangle Moon- Angle leaps onto the apron and German Suplexes Kota on to the apron, Ibushi's neck bouncing as he cadcades to the floor.
Angle quickly gets Kota back in, and attacks the ankle, Kota struggles, half conscious. He finally makes it to the ropes and is able to get back to his feet. He unloads with palm strikes and a slap to the face of Angle. Kurt looks for a clothesline, Kota ducks and gets a Pele Kick.
Ibushi pulls Kurt up for a Phoenix-Plex, Angle lands on his feet, not allowing Kota to drive his neck into the canvas. Angle Slam connects, and with that, Kurt has vanquished another NJPW legend.]
Kurt Angle (c) def Kota Ibushi to retain the TNT Championship
[Kurt grabs a microphone and begins berating Ibushi. He says this proves it, all those New Japan darlings that these marks worship, they're old, they're broken down, and they are no match for a Wrestling Machine.
Angle looks to target Ibushi again, getting a chair in hand, when all of a sudden Battle Cry hits. Kenny Omega storms the ring, avoiding a chair shot before hitting a V-Trigger sending the chair into Angle's face. Kurt retreats as Omega helps Ibushi up and Kurt's next challenge becomes increasingly clear, arguably the greatest NJPW wrestler of all time, Kenny Omega.]
AEW Dynasty, Apr 12, 2025:
Kenny Omega vs Kurt Angle (c), TNT Championship
[In the weeks leading up to Dynasty, we get some good build for this match including Angle and Hobbs vs Golden Lovers in which Omega pinned Hobbs for his team, as well as a segment in which Kenny and Kurt come face to face.
Kenny in full Terminator gear, he tells Kurt that he's been a big fish in a small pond until now, and that he should be careful not to forget who the original wrestling machine is.
When it comes bell time, Angle quickly recognizes Omega as the most pure athlete he's faced to date. The speed, the intensity, the pressure. Omega brings all of it in his first title match since returning late last year to combat The New Elite.
Kenny comes charging for a corner clothesline, but is caught by Angle who looks for a T-Bone Suplex into the turnbuckles, Omega with a DDT reversal. Angle rolls out and Omega begins drumming up the Terminator rhythm. Tope Con Hilo clears Angle at ringside.
Omega goes to send Kurt back in, but stops on the apron, joining Kurt there. The margin for error is thin as Omega locks the arms and gets a Snap Dragon Suplex across the thinly padded steel.
Kurt's neck issues start to become apparent here as he clutches at it. Omega goes to Irish Whip Angle into the barricade, but the momentum is reversed and Kenny is sent rocketing towards it. He promptly hops onto it and executes a Moonsault from the barricade.
Angle catches him and delivers him into the steel post, face first. Kurt proceeds to climb to the middle turnbuckle and hit a Moonsault to the downed Omega at ringside. Angle sends Kenny back in and begins his repeated German Suplexes, on the third, Omega lands on his feet and boots Angle into the turnbuckles harshly, Kurt exploding against the corner.
Kenny gets Kurt up now for One Winged Angel, Kurt rolls forward into a pinfall, Kenny kicks out and Kurt comes in with a standing 450 knee drop across the surgically repaired abdomen of Omega. Kurt now focuses up and goes after the leg, applying an Ankle Lock. Omega kicks free and slips behind Angle for a Kotaro Krusher.
Angle kicks out and Omega is left gripping his ribs as he pulls Angle up. He gets Angle on his shoulders, wincing as he does so. Rolling driver followed by a Springboard Moonsault on Angle. Kenny holds his midsection before getting Kurt up in OWA position once more.
Kurt struggles so Omega shifts him to a German Suplex, but Angle rolls into a pinfall. Omega kicks out, however, and Kurt is hot on his trail. A crossbody by Kurt takes both men to the outside.
Kurt pulls Kenny up for an Angle Slam against the steel post. Omega writhes in pain as Angle lets out a dominant cry. Kurt sets Kenny up top, but Omega fights back with wristbone strikes, sending Angle to the canvas. Kurt fires up, springing to the top turnbuckle for an Avalanche Belly To Belly, he follows through, but Omega lands on his feet!
Angle didn't see it and gets up to gloat, believing the cheers are for him. Omega gets a frenzied look in the eyes and scales to the top rope. Missile Dropkick to the back of Angle's skull.
Angel crawls to the ropes, drool leaking from his lax jaw. Omega runs the ropes for a V-Trigger against the ropes. He then exits the ring breaking out a steel chair, the ref attempts to stop him but Omega brushes him off. He opens it and sets it in the center of the ring.
Step-Stool V-Trigger! Omega covers for a near fall, and goes into the corner, talking to himself and trying to figure out how to put Angle down. Kurt recovers and tries to charge in, Omega rolls off the back and attempts a rana as Kurt comes over. Kurt with an abrupt sit-out powerbomb reversal before shoving Omega out of the ring.
Angle from the apron with a Somersault Plancha. Kurt sends Omega back in and tries for the Angle Slam, Omega with an arm drag reversal before sliding behind Kurt for a Snap Dragon into the turnbuckles. Omega runs into the opposite corner and closes in with a V-Trigger against the turnbuckles.
He pulls Angle up out of the corner and sticks a Poisonrana. Angle is able to barely survive the count. Omega in disbelief takes Angle to the top, he's thinking Avalanche OWA. Angle scrambles out and lands an Avalanche Angle Slam!
Omega somehow kicks out, and Kurt is beside himself. He goes to the top rope, a rare Frog-Splash from Angle, Omega moves, Kurt kisses the mat. V-Trigger to the back of the head, Omega pulls Kurt up, One Winged Angel connects.
Omega has ended the TNT Title reign of Kurt Angle, avenged the good name of NJPW and become a Grand Slam Champion in AEW.]
Kenny Omega def Kurt Angle (c) to win the TNT Championship
Kurt disappears for a while after this, but when vignettes begin airing detailing Angle's journey back, he's spotted being coached by one man in particular. One of the greatest technical wrestlers of all time, in Dean Malenko.
AEW Double Or Nothing, May 24, 2025:
Kurt Angle w/ Dean Malenko vs PAC
[Angle's first match back takes place two weeks prior to this one when he and Hobbs take on The Lucha Brothers. A victory for Angle and Hobbs isn't enough as Kurt attacks Fénix after the bell, refusing to release the Ankle Lock. Malenko eggs him on, telling him to break Fénix's leg.
This brings out PAC, who comes to the rescue of his long time friend and stablemate. He gets in Angle's face and shows no intimidation as he backs Kurt up. With Double Or Nothing around the corner, Angle believes PAC will make for an excellent first victim on his way to the top of the food chain.
Angle focuses more on his submission work under the advice of Malenko, he targets the legs making it hard for PAC to execute his aerial maneuvers. PAC is able to trap Angle in the Rings Of Saturn late, but Angle finds his way out, and gets a grip on the ankle. Moments later, PAC is tapping out.]
Kurt Angle def PAC
AEW Fight For The Fallen, Jun 28, 2025
Kurt Angle w/ Dean Malenko vs Will Ospreay (c), AEW World Heavyweight Championship
[Following his dominant victory over PAC, Angle sets his sights on the top of the mountain and the man standing at the peak of it. Ospreay has become unanimously agreed upon as probably the best wrestler on the planet. Angle looks to disprove this theory, and take care of another NJPW castaway.
Ospreay has Angle vulnerable and closes in for Essex Destroyer, Angle reverses with a Northern Lights and rolls through scooping Ospreay up for a deadlift powerbomb. Ospreay lands a rana reversal for a two count, before looking for Os-Cutter, Angle catches him and hits a Lawn Dart, vaulting Ospreay into the middle turnbuckle.
He begins his trio of Germans, Ospreay landing on his feet from the third and getting a superkick on Kurt. An Os-Cutter follows for a near-fall. Ospreay goes to the far corner, and charges in for Hidden Blade. Angle ducks and gets his third German Suplex.
He sets up for an Angle Slam, but Ospreay snags an arm drag reversal. Vertical dropkick by Ospreay who lands on his feet, enziguri connects, Ospreay with a handspring but caught by Angle with a German.
Ospreay goes to the outside and Kurt goes up top for a Moonsault to the floor, swing and a miss and Ospreay climbs. Corkscrew Moonsault by Ospreay, he sends Angle back in. Os-Cutter catches Angle flush. Ospreay from across the ring now, Hidden Blade connects!
Three seconds later, and Angle's dreams of being a World Heavyweight Champion are dashed by the best in the world...for now.]
Will Ospreay (c) def Kurt Angle to retain the AEW World Heavyweight Championship
AEW All In, Aug 23, 2025:
Adam Copeland & Christian Cage (c) vs Kurt Angle & Powerhouse Hobbs w/ Dean Malenko, AEW Tag Team Championships
[Following a devastating loss to Ospreay, Angle refocuses his tag team efforts alongside Hobbs. With Copeland and Christian having made amends and gone on to capture the AEW Tag Team Titles, Angle and Hobbs are eager to knock the legendary tag team off the throne.
Copeland has Angle in position for a Spear after a prolonged period of control when Kurt reverses it into an inside cradle for a near fall. Angle creates distance and tags out to Hobbs who attempts to overpower the historic duo, but the tag team experience is too much for Hobbs and as he is inevitably defeated, Angle experiences yet another setback.]
Adam Copeland & Christian Cage (c) def Kurt Angle & Powerhouse Hobbs to retain the AEW Tag Team Championships
AEW All Out, Sep 6, 2025:
Bryan Danielson vs Kurt Angle w/ Dean Malenko
[Just two weeks removed from a victory over long time rival, Nigel McGuiness, Danielson is riding high and wants the most intense competition possible for All Out.
Naturally, this attracts Kurt Angle, a man who has never been submitted, yet has an incredible string of submission victories. He challenges Danielson's claims to be the best technical wrestler in the world, and promises to tap out The Dragon.
Throughout the dream contest, Angle targets and does significant damage to the knee and ankle of Bryan. Bryan attempts to apply similar limb targeting to the previously injured arm of Angle. With both men's history of neck issues, there's plenty of nasty envelope pushes in that department as well.
Bryan looks for a Busaiku Knee late when Angle catches him and gets a powerbomb reversal, he then applies a Boston Crab, squeezing the Achilles Tendon of Danielson. Bryan is able to edge to his back and roll Angle into a pin.
Kurt kicks out, and Danielson lands a roundhouse to a kneeling Angle, leaving him lamenting himself after he feels the effect on his leg. He pulls Angle up for a Dragon Suplex, but Angle breaks the grip and gets a Snapmare Takedown.
Bryan lands on his feet and begins blistering Angle with repeated kicks to the chest, wincing after every one. He finally backs up and tries for the roundhouse, but Kurt catches him in an Ankle Lock.
Kurt twists away at the squirming Danielson, who is able to turn just enough to start landing up-kicks to the bad shoulder of Angle. Danielson then gets a Triangle, pulling Angle in to the submission.
He traps the bad arm and begins striking away at the shoulder socket with elbows. Angle powers up, lifting Danielson before dumping him into the turnbuckles, crumpling Bryan into the corner.
Angle whips Bryan into the corner and he performs a Springboard Moonsault, landing on his bad ankle. Kurt slithers in and cinches an Ankle Lock in yet again. Bryan rolls out and gets a LeBell Lock applied, the bad arm of Angle angled awkwardly. Kurt makes the ropes and Bryan fires up into the corner.
He beckons Kurt up and closes the distance with a Busaiku Knee, Angle ducks, Bryan's bad knee hits the top turnbuckle! Angle Slam connects!
Kurt covers and in doing so obtains the single biggest victory of his career so far. An incredible effort from both men, and an incredible step forward for Kurt Angle.]
Kurt Angle def Bryan Danielson
AEW WrestleDream, Oct 11, 2025:
Bryan Danielson vs Kurt Angle w/ Dean Malenko vs Zack Sabre Jr., Ultimate Submission
[A victory over Bryan Danielson should have Kurt on cloud nine, but he can't help feel disappointed that he didn't deliver on his promise. He didn't tap Bryan out. He challenges Danielson, one more match, a thirty minute timer, no pinfalls, most submissions wins.
Rather than Danielson, it's NJPW's resident technical wizard, Zack Sabre Jr. who answers the call. He states that him and Angle have unfinished business. In the G1 Climax last year, Zack had Angle on the brink of submission but just as Kurt was about to give in, his body gave out and he passed out instead.
Zack has kept that goal in the back of his head since, to make the unsubmittable Kurt Angle tap out. Kurt says that he has great respect for Sabre Jr. but right now he is focused on Danielson.
Bryan enters and states a solution, a triple threat match, under Angle's proposed rules of course, to finally determine who the best technical wrestler in the world is.
Match time arrives and all three men feel the pressure in the air. Three of the most technically gifted pro wrestlers of all time engaged in a war for a chance to finally be crowned the undisputed king of tapping people out.
Twenty five minutes of pure grappling glory elapse, and despite some close calls, none of the three competitors have submitted. With five minutes remaining, all three men are volatile in their pursuit to finally get a point.
Bryan looks for a diving knee strike, when Kurt catches him and cinches an Ankle Lock. Danielson rolls forward and Zack leaps onto the shoulders of Kurt, ranas him to the canvas and locks a mounting triangle.
Bryan with a roundhouse to Zack, pulling him off of Kurt, Bryan proceeds to lock Cattle Mutilation on Sabre who kicks and struggles to survive the maneuver.
Kurt out of nowhere with a Moonsault to Danielson! The grip on Sabre Jr. released, Zack rolls out of the ring. Kurt focuses on Danielson, landing his trio of German Suplexes, Bryan on his feet during the third attempt.
Busaiku Knee, Kurt ducks just enough to catch Bryan across his shoulders. Torture Rack applied on Danielson, bending Bryan over his shoulders. Bryan shifts off the shoulders and locks a Guillotine on Angle, trying to cut off blood flow to the brain.
Angle attempts to reverse with a Northern Lights, but Bryan lands on his feet and maintains grip, forming a bridging guillotine. Zack slithers in, kicking Bryan in the knee and causing Danielson to kneel while keeping the Guillotine applied.
Zack gets a Triangle on Bryan while Bryan has a reverse Guillotine on Kurt, after a few moments, Bryan has to cut his losses with Kurt and try to escape Sabre's grip.
He inches free of the Triangle, getting grip on the legs for a Boston Crab. He tucks the legs and bridges back for a modified Muta Lock. He gives up and applies a seated Guillotine. No matter what Bryan does, Sabre fights on, less than a minute remains when Bryan locks the LeBell Lock.
He drives his knuckles into the nose of Sabre, eventually garnering color, as the crimson begins to leak into his mouth. Danielson covers the mouth and nose with his hands, seconds remain when Kurt rushes in to save the match.
Zack Sabre Jr. is drowning in his own blood.
Three, Two, Sabre Jr. taps!
With one second on the clock, Danielson forces a submission, Kurt was fingertips away from saving the match-up. Sabre Jr. is released and inhales big, gulping breathe, bile and blood leaking from his mouth. Angle gets to his feet and approaches Danielson.
A handshake follows as Bryan Danielson is acknowledged as the Ultimate Submission Master in one of the greatest displays of technical wrestling ever.]
Bryan Danielson def Kurt Angle & Zack Sabre Jr. in Ultimate Submission
What isn't made clear at the time is that this actually serves as Kurt Angle's AEW farewell. He bids farewell to Malenko, telling him to watch over Hobbs for him and vice versa with Hobbs. Less than a month later, his contract expires and he opts not to resign. Questions begin to flare up about where Kurt Angle may turn up next, rumors even begin to circulate that he may be done with professional wrestling for the foreseeable future.
Remember that thing about death and taxes?
WWE Royal Rumble, Jan 31, 2026:
[The Royal Rumble arrives, and as with any given Rumble, who knows what surprises may be in store?
The Men's Rumble match is occuring when entry number twenty-seven is about to be revealed. Medal sounds and the roof comes off of Kaseya Center as the words KURT ANGLE pan across the titantron. The Olympic Hero has arrived.
Angle racks up a couple of eliminations, tossing Johnny Gargano after a fun sequence and Shinsuke Nakamura after an exchange of strikes. Angle comes face to face with AJ Styles who engages in a staredown with The Wrestling Machine.
Before they can lock up, both men are ambushed by other participants, delaying the dream match. Kurt makes it to the final six, but runs into a brick wall when he attempts to eliminate Bron Breakker.
A back and forth of control ends with Breakker on top, landing a belly to belly over the top rope to eliminate Kurt Angle.]
SmackDown, Feb 6, 2026:
John Cena's Open Challenge
[Cena, entering the twilight of his career, goes back to his old open challenge routine, wanting to face as many young superstars as he can before he calls it a career.
His first of these challenges is answered by Kurt Angle himself, who comes face to face with the established Cena. In just his second WWE match, Angle wants to lock up with the GOAT.
Cena, perplexed and expecting a talent on the roster that he was familiar with to appear, poses a reasonable question.
"Who in the hell are you?"
'I'm Kurt Angle'
"Kurt Angle, huh? Tell me, what is the one quality that you possess that makes you think you can come out here and challenge the very best?"
Angle pauses, somehow, he knows exactly what to say.
'Ruthless Aggression.'
Angle clocks Cena and the bell rings, Angle's WWE debut and he has a chance to show that ruthless aggression against one of the most reputable names in wrestling history.
Cena starts out the contest believing Angle will be an easy foe and taking time to pander to the audience. It doesn't take long though for Kurt to gain his respect with a surprise German Suplex while Cena is standing on the middle turnbuckle.
Angle begins to unload with a variety of kick variations and suplexes, wobbling Cena. Cena avoids a Moonsault and lands a Code Red for a near fall.
He beckons Angle up for an Attitude Adjustment, and Angle shifts off the shoulders to begin his trio of German Suplexes. He bridge pins on the third and Cena muscles out.
Angle looks for an Ankle Lock, but Cena rolls free. Attitude Adjustment positioning, Angle lands on his feet. Another German Suplex connects and Angle rolls through, lifting Cena into an emphatic Angle Slam.
Cena narrowly manages to kick out. Angle sizes Cena up for one more Angle Slam, Cena escapes to his feet, Attitude Adjustment, Angle shifts into a roll-up on Cena.
Three seconds later, and Angle has defeated the 16x World Champion in his WWE debut. A shocked Cena watches as Angle takes his place as a hot commodity in WWE.]
Kurt Angle def John Cena
It's not long after this that Kurt finds himself some teammates. During a bout with Akira Tozawa and Apollo Crews of WorldWide, the team of Cedric Alexander and Damon Kemp receive some unexpected assistance from Kurt Angle.
Following the bout, Angle approaches Alexander and Kemp, shortly thereafter, forming Team Angle.
WWE WrestleMania 42 - Night 1, Apr 11, 2026:
AJ Styles vs Kurt Angle
[Ever since their unsatisfying face off at the Royal Rumble, fans and these two alike have been eager to get a proper match made. Angle wants a legacy fight for WrestleMania, another name to engrave on his record.
AJ Styles refuses to be viewed as someone to be put out to pasture and tells Angle to bring his intensity, bring his intelligence, bring his integrity and then come to terms with the fact that it still won't be enough.
Angle tries for an Angle Slam after Styles misses a Springboard 450, Styles maneuvers his way over and into Styles Clash position only for Angle to grip the ankle and turn it into an Ankle Lock.
Styles writhes and tries to make the ropes, but Angle drags him back into the center of the ring and sits down into a knee bar - ankle lock fusion forcing Styles to submit to The Wrestling Machine.]
Kurt Angle def AJ Styles
WWE Backlash, May 23, 2026:
Cody Rhodes vs Kurt Angle
[Following his massive victory over AJ Styles at WrestleMania, Angle and his posse set their sights on another established vet, Cody Rhodes.
Angle tells Rhodes that Kurt is everything Cody has claimed to be, at Backlash he'll expose Cody as a fraud and show him who the true American Nightmare is.
It's a hotly contested affair with Cody, less than a year removed from his World Title run, putting Kurt to the test. Cody is in the driver's seat when a ref bump leads Cedric and Kemp to interfere, Kemp is neutralized before Cedric inadvertently lays Angle out.
Cross Rhodes to Cedric, and another one to Kurt and Rhodes has pinned The Olympic Hero.]
Cody Rhodes def Kurt Angle
WWE King & Queen Of The Ring, Jun 27, 2026:
Damian Priest vs Kurt Angle
[Kurt enters into the King Of The Ring tournament following his loss to Rhodes, but not before kicking Cedric out of Team Angle. He's replaced by a man Angle knows well, the debuting Josh Alexander.
While Josh and Kemp pick up the tag team titles, Angle focuses in on the tournament. He is able to defeat Rey Mysterio in the first round, Dragon Lee in the second, Pete Dunne in the quarters, and Cedric in the semis.
Damian, meanwhile wins the RAW bracket and the finals are set. The Punisher vs The Wrestling Machine.
In a vein very similar to what an Angle/Undertaker match looks like, Priest muscles around Angle, only for Kurt to surprise him with his own strength. Angle works on the leg, rendering Priest's kicking ability useless and kneading him for the eventual Ankle Lock.
Damian looks for Razor's Edge, powering through the pain in his leg. As he chucks Angle, Kurt reverses with a huracanrana taking Priest off guard. Angle begins his trio of Germans, on the third attempt, Priest maneuvers free and gets a Thunder Clap on Angle.
He sets up for The Reckoning, but Angle hits a Southern Lights Suplex, sending Priest forward to the canvas. Angle gets an Angle Slam for a near-fall.
A Moonsault follows, but Priest gets a grip across the throat as Kurt comes down. He lands South Of Heaven for a close two count. Damian sizes up Kurt from across the ring.
Tornado Kick, intercepted, Kurt locks onto the ankle! Priest tries to roll out, kick Kurt away, but Angle is relentless and vice grips around the ankle, torturing Damian.
Priest eventually passes out from the pain, giving Angle a victory, albeit one he's only slightly satisfied with. Regardless of how, Kurt has won King Of The Ring and will now main event SummerSlam for the World Heavyweight Championship.]
Kurt Angle def Damian Priest
WWE Battleground, Jul 25, 2026:
Brock Lesnar vs Kurt Angle
[Brock, having returned in the Royal Rumble earlier in the year and announcing a retirement tour, culminating at SummerSlam in his hometown, sets his sights on Kurt Angle.
Kurt, one month away from main eventing SummerSlam, accepts Brock's challenge, dubbing him one more legend Kurt can send packing.
The match is evidently very intense with Brock showing his trademark dominance and Angle impressing with bursts of strength and out-grappling Lesnar.
Towards the climax of the match, both men begin exchanging German Suplexes. Brock eventually decides to do the continuous trio ala Kurt. Angle lands on his feet on the third attempt and rolls Brock into a deadlift German Suplex.
Kurt scales for a Moonsault, but Brock catches him in mid-air for an F-5, Kurt scrambles free and gets an Ankle Lock applied. Brock is able to fight out, applying a Kimura Lock. Kurt makes it to the ropes and Brock gets fed up.
Lesnar goes to the top turnbuckle for the first time in decades and attempts a Shooting Star Press. Kurt moves and Lesnar eats canvas, Angle immediately jumps onto the leg of Brock applying an agonizing Ankle Lock.
After minutes of Kurt's snake-like refusal to release his grip, he does what few have ever been able to do and makes The Beast tap out. After the bout, Brock shakes the hand of Kurt Angle and Kurt looks ahead to his titanic Heavyweight Title opportunity.]
Kurt Angle def Brock Lesnar
As Angle approaches war at SummerSlam, he decides that Team Angle needs an advisor. Someone that can guide them to their ultimate goal of every member holding gold. He says for three of the best technical wrestlers in the world, their advisor must be of a similar status.
He enlists none other than The Excellence Of Execution, The Hitman is in Team Angle. Bret coaches Kurt in the lead-up to SummerSlam, giving him tips and reviewing old tapes showing how he won his Titles.
CONT. In Comments

I am not OP. That is u/metalslug53 who posted to BoomersBeingFools
TW: racism, slurs, sexism, verbal abuse and possible ageism
Original Post May 20th, 2024
I went into my local Walmart tonight for a quick grocery trip to pick up some stuff I was low on. Quick in and out trip, 15 minutes at most. Sad to say it didn't end up being a fast trip because when I arrived at checkout, I was stuck behind a Boomer who wanted to cause a scene.
The guy in front of me was with his wife, who were arguing loudly about God knows what. They had a substantial amount of stuff on the belt, including a few large bottles of various alcohols. When the Boomer scanned his way back to the bottles of alcohol, he froze and began searching around for an associate, who I presume he wanted to come and scan his ID.
The problem was that he didn't scan any of the bottles. He just locked up and stared directly at a girl who was busy at the monitor for the Self-Checkout registers the next aisle over. After about 30 - 45 seconds of not scanning anything, he loudly shouted "Excuse me" in his most condescending tone, followed by "Can you come and scan my fucking ID please?!"
His tactic worked, as the employee in question immediately whipped around and walked over. He was doing that typical arms-crossed bullshit, looking like everything was a giant inconvenience, and I will note, homie still hadn't scanned a single bottle of alcohol yet.
When this young woman was in speaking range, the Boomer began to lay into her. "It makes me real sick to see workers just standing around when they're on the clock doing nothing when people like me have schedules to keep. Can you do your fucking job please and scan my ID?"
"Excuse me?" she responded.
"You fucking heard me. Get off your goddamn phone and scan my card so I can get the hell out of here."
Now, I would like to note a few things about this interaction up to this point. First, this individual was still in a work outfit...a mechanic's onesie for a local mom-and-pop tire company that I won't name here, but one in which I know the owner pretty well. He's a family friend. Second, he was still wearing his name tag (Eric, somehow I hope you're competent enough to find your way here so you can see this story). Because of this, I knew how to address him.
Eventually he asks the cashier very rudely if she's going to scan his ID and she flat out tells him "No, I don't think so. Not after how you've treated me. You can talk with my manager." Good for her. She gets on a walkie and calls for a manager to come to the register the Boomer was towering over and briskly walked off towards the Customer Service counter at the front of the store. The Boomer starts loudly hollering about how this is all bullshit and he's just expressing his First Amendment rights.
It was at this point where I actually found some balls and decided to give my opinion, unsolicited, just so this guy could get an outside perspective on how much of a jackass he was being. "Excuse me, but the First Amendment doesn't protect you from looking like a douche bag to random strangers in Walmart when you treat other people like shit." The guy wheeled around and locked eyes with me. "What did you just say to me?" I just smirked and said "Oh, hard of hearing are we? I'm pretty sure you heard what I said."
The guy visibly shook on the spot. "This isn't any of your fuckin' business, so butt out!"
"I disagree. When I see someone acting like an asshole for no good reason, I make it a point to speak up. You seem to think that by stating that you have a First Amendment right means you can say whatever the hell you want without consequence, but that isn't how it works, sir. First Amendment protects you from government overreach for speaking your mind, but it doesn't protect you from the consequences you face from others for your words or your opinions."
"That's besides the point. I'm sick and fucking tired of these minorities doing nothing and getting a paycheck for it." He responded, rather loudly and unaware that there were quite a few people staring at this point. Hooray. Racism has entered the chat.
The manager showed up, and he starts in on how he scanned his alcohol and that the associate in question was VERY rude to him and refused to serve him. He started stating that she told him he wouldn't get help because he was white when I interjected again.
"Ma'am, that is NOT what happened. This gentleman didn't even scan any of his alcohol and immediately started shouting down at your employee, just for the sake of being upset. He was rude, unpleasant, and even made unnecessary racial comments."
He wheeled around at me again and yelled "Shut the fuck up and mind your business!" before going on the tirade again. Something something lazy workers, something something First Amendment and speaking his mind.
"You know, this is very unfair of you." I started again. "You've put that poor girl in an unwinnable situation. Now that you've raised this untrue complaint, her manager is going to have to have words with her even though she hasn't done anything wrong. Does that sound fair to you, Eric?" I don't think he realized he was still in uniform, because he looked at me puzzled at how I knew his name. "How would YOU feel if someone came into your place of business and told John a bunch of bullshit about how YOU were treating them unfairly when you knew perfectly well that it was a lie? Or even better, how would your boss react if he knew you were acting like this WHILE STILL IN UNIFORM with his place of business plastered all over your chest?" When he heard me say the name of his boss, he stopped cold. "Yes Eric. I know John VERY well, and I think I might be paying him a visit tomorrow. That is unless you decide to apologize to that girl for being a lying prick instead."
The guy then became very rushed and suddenly in a colossal hurry. He muttered something about people not minding their own business, to which I replied with "I'm just eXpReSsInG mY FiRSt AmEnDmENt RiGHts!" Spongebob sarcastic voice and all. He scanned one of the bottles and had the manager scan his ID. His wife started in about how I better not show up to his office tomorrow...something directed at me, but I wasn't paying her any attention and brushed her off. I was just staring at Eric and watching him bag.
Eventually, he got all of his stuff put in his basket and he marched out, but he didn't apologize to the manager or the employee and gave me a hearty "Go fuck yourself, asshole!" as he flipped me off. I scanned my groceries and paid for my merchandise, but man was I smiling from ear to ear.
Afterwards, I made it a point to go and speak with the manager and the employee in the Customer Service center. As expected, the manager was having a conversation with the employee about that customer, and she thanked me for speaking up. I've worked retail before, so I know what it's like having to deal with assholes like Eric. It'd be a cold day in hell before I let a Boomer bully an employee then weasel his way into a victim role with management. Not on my fucking watch.
So now my next play is to show up to this tire shop tomorrow. I really hope Eric is there. I hope he's the opener. I'm going to walk in and just smile at him. Ask to see his manager. Then I think I'm going to go in and just weave the NICEST story about how he treated the employees at Walmart, so much so that I was compelled to stop in and tell his boss that he has a real winner on his hands, and that I'm a customer for life now.
Maybe that way, he might get a message. MAYBE, he will realize that I could have started a whole shitstorm for him, but I chose not to, because unlike him, I'm not a fucking dickhead.
tl;dr *(For the upset Boomers in this thread who don't like reading, it seems): Boomer got big mad for no reason and berated a Walmart employee while he himself was wearing his work uniform. I'll be paying his boss, a family friend, a visit tomorrow to discuss his employee's behavior while still representing his place of work.
Update May 21st, 2024
Proof I was here. (As I stated in the first thread, I will not be disclosing this location to any of you. Took as neutral of a photo as I could. If you live here, MAYBE you'll recognize it. Take it for what it is, I guess.)
Link to part one.
Before we begin, let me start by saying WOW, simply because when I passed out last night, I was hovering around ~350 upvotes and had a steady trickle of interaction with people. I was doing my best to respond to the comments as they came in. Then, when I woke up this morning, ya'll...I had over 1500 messages in my inbox and the thread has fucktupled in upvotes, just overnight. I'm so sorry if I didn't respond to you...it was a fool's errand to try and get to everyone.
I also want to address specifically a small handful of you...the ones I was certain would show up in the comments to basically call me a liar or say my story was fabricated. Some of the reasons you gave were pretty telling. My favorite was when someone said something along the lines of "This is too well-written to be true." What a world we live in where clear dictation automatically disqualifies a recounting of events from being accurate. I'll admit that it read closer to a novel than anything else, but that's just how I dictate I guess.
Anyways, onto the update.
I arrived at the tire shop just a hair after 8:00am. There was one gentleman in line at the counter when I arrived, but he was already being assisted by one of the associates manning the register. I took a look around and peeked my head in the back office area where I knew John typically worked when he wasn't being pulled into a bay.
John wasn't there.
As I walked towards the sitting area, I happened to ask an employee who was walking by if he knew when John would be in today. He told me John usually arrives a bit before 9:00am when he worked mornings, so I should just chill for a bit. I didn't have anything pressing to attend to today, so I did just that.
As I moved towards a seat, I happened to glance outside at the working bays and noticed my ol' buddy Eric, who was currently walking towards the main building. When he saw me, I watched as his head drooped down and I could visibly see him mutter the word "Fuck" under his breath. He stopped for just a second, shook his head, and continued walking towards the building.
When he came inside, he set a packet with what I presume was a customer order on the counter and said something to the clerk at the register. He hesitated for a moment and walked over to where I was sitting. As he approached, I greeted him with "Morning, Eric." and smiled. He just stood over me for a moment before he took a chair across the coffee table that was sitting in front of me.
Wonder what his next move was?
Honestly, I didn't expect it, but the dude opened with "I owe you an apology."
Color me shocked, I guess.
Now, you see...at this point about a billion things began to run around in my head. MOSTLY, for some reason, the things that ran most prominently through my mind were all the calls for bloodshed that popped up in the last thread. All the claims that Boomers can never learn and the only language they knew was bullying, which were thrown at me like mortars practically every step I took. Ya'll were bloodthristy last night and still were this morning, convinced that this gentleman was a drunkard asshat, but do drunk asshats apologize after doing something wrong?
Back to the story.
He continued on, saying that he didn't just owe ME an apology, but also the cashier he yelled at last night, and how he had actually planned on returning to Walmart on his lunch break to see if she was working so he could apologize to her as well. In his words "I've been dealing with a lot of personal shit in my life recently including the loss of a loved one, and I took that out on ya'll last night and it wasn't right."
Right about this time is when I noticed that John had arrived. He walked in through the door behind where Eric and I were sitting and walked straight into the back area I checked before. We will get to that later.
Guys, I honestly had no idea what to do. On one hand yes, this dude was a raging douchebag to that girl last night, but this felt genuine. I mentioned several times in the first thread that I didn't want to react hastily and this is exactly why. Had I gone in there and thrown a colossal fit and started a shitstorm, I don't know if this would have ended the same.
Anyways, I don't wish to grandstand things further. The guy apologized, I stood up and shook his hand, and I simply told him "Be good to people for no reason, man. Kindness is free and isn't a sign of weakness." We chatted a bit and had a bit of a revelation that Eric and I have a distant connection neither of us really knew about. I won't disclose what or how we knew each other for personal reasons.
Then John came out of the back office.
He recognized me and gave me a hug. Asked what I was in for. I basically told him that I ran into Eric at the store last night and wanted to check in on him and get an update on an issue he was having there.
That's when John said "Yeah, Eric I need to talk to you about that. I had a lady call me about something that happened at Walmart you were involved in."
Oh shit. I'm guessing either the manager or the cashier called John after what happened last night. I guess the ball isn't in my court any longer.
Eric gave a deep sigh and basically told John "I was a shithead to a cashier last night because I was in a hurry. I wasn't thinking and it wasn't right. I'm gonna make it right at lunch time. I hope she's working today." John then said something I didn't catch and him and Eric walked into the back room.
That's it. End of story. I took a scrap from a notebook, jotted down my "proof" and snapped a photo, then jumped in my car and left.
I certainly hope that this brings you guys whatever closure you were looking for. I'm certain some of you aren't going to be happy with how this turned out, given how many pitchforks I saw last night. But after all this, all I can say is to not be so hasty when jumping to conclusions. People are people, ya'll. You can't really be sure what someone is going through before you jump to judgment. Some folks don't know how to ask for forgiveness or don't know how to take responsibility for their actions, but some folks can. I'm glad this resolved itself the way it did. John knows what happened and knows that it happened with his business on full display, so he can now CHOOSE how HE reacts with that information. I got the closure I needed, and I hope the cashier does too. Time will tell in that regard, I suppose.
Be good to each other.
EDIT: I'm present in the comments, trying to interact with as many of you as I can. But comments are coming in so fast I can't keep up. Sorry!
EDIT 2: Still getting a tidal wave of comments. The inbox is filling up rapidly. I am now turning off notifications and calling it a day. Thanks for all the input! Lots of love!
EDIT 3: Inbox replies disabled, but I'm still surfing comments. It's wild to me that SO MANY PEOPLE are upset that this didn't play out the way they hoped. Guys, I'm not saying Eric is a saint here. I'm not saying what he did was excusable. But I absolutely refuse to try and add any more suffering to the situation than has already been dealt. Some of you want me to return and get this guy fired. Some of you want me to post his info online. None of this will be happening. I consider this story done and there will be no further interjection on my part. I know some of you won't like that response (hell, some of you have already taken to insinuating that I'm excusing racism in the comments. Big yikes, guys.), but this is where things end with me.
Reflect on your own feelings after reading this. A whole lot of you are still angry. But a whole lot of you are happy with how things played out. I'm personally glad where things end. Whether or not that makes me a fool, naive, or an idiot is your opinion to have I guess, but I can walk away from this knowing that my presence extracted an apology. That's good enough for me.
Keep being kind. It's genuinely a real-life superpower. The universe rewards kindness in kind.
I am not the original poster. Please don't contact or comment on linked posts

Mood

Nowy Sącz, Polish Eden

“Name?”
The lady’s voice seemed to catch on the moss-covered walls of the church. It was a humble building, and quite clearly an old Catholic church that had been converted for its new purpose. Windows had been opened to let in animals, with birds and rodents taking advantage and making this their home. Where moss and vine didn’t cover the walls, paintings of the Earth Mother and Eden… the true Eden adorned them. While the building may have been built Catholic, its insides proclaimed it as far different.
“Name Sir?”
Her voice caught him off guard. Her face seemed mildly annoyed, as if he was holding up her day. To be fair, the hour long line he had waited in suggested that this place was busy, and yet when he walked in the church seemed quite empty. Beyond her face, she wore a rather plain-looking white top…or was it a dress? Whatever it was, no symbols or logos sat on the fabric besides a small, minimalistic tree, just on her left shoulder. It was the same symbol which sat above the church’s entrance, and the same one which he had seen all throughout his home town in recent weeks. It was the symbol of the Community, the supposed singular faith of Eden.
“Sir, I need a name or I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Once again, her voice brought him out his daydream. He figured he might as well answer, he had waited all that time. “Szymon.”
She nodded, typing it down on a rather old-looking computer.
“Last names and any middle names sir?”
“Czajka… What exactly is this?”
The lady simply continued typing, not bothering to look up as she answered his question.
“It’s a Community Church.”
She said it so matter-of-factly that he couldn’t decide whether she was making a joke or if she genuinely believed he was that stupid.
“No, I know that obviously. I meant more… what is this process here? What are we doing? I thought this was a church sermon or something, not a reception desk.”
She paused for a second, before looking up and reaching over to a brochure stand behind her. As she grabbed one of the first pamphlets held within it, its title of “THE COMMUNITY AND YOU: HOW THE EARTH LOVES US ALL” visible even with his relatively poor eyesight, she also responded in a more welcoming tone.”
“Ah sorry, I figured you came in having seen the initiative around town. That’s my bad. Here at the Community, we appreciate that Eden’s faith is a little different from your own, and want to make the transition as smooth as possible for all. As such we’re running these drives so to speak, where people like yourself can come in, gain as much information as possible about the Community, and make an educated decision on whether to convert!”
Her warm tone was calming, even if he still suspected all of this to be a scam. Perhaps seeing a weird look on his face, the lady continued.
“We completely get that the way the Community does things may be abit odd at times, so if you have any questions during this process feel free to ask. If I may ask though, what made you think of coming here?”
That question made him ponder for a second. Why was he here? He supposed that everyone he knew was talking about the advantages of being an active Community member, and those that had joined were seeing great benefits for their families, or so it seemed. But there was more than that. It was subtle at first, but the more he saw ads and signs for the Community, the more drawn he felt to it. It had felt like nothing he had ever experienced before, a vacuum so powerful that his subconscious couldn’t help but be pulled in. He looked at the lady, unsure of how to answer.
“I felt like I needed a change of pace.”
She smiled at his answer, and yet the smile seemed off, as if he had gotten something wrong. Whatever it was, she quickly returned to a more neutral expression.
“That makes sense. Well, if you would follow me, I’ll take you to the first step of your education.”
As the lady got up, he hesitated. Her inflection, her tone, it all said something was wrong. All of a sudden the room felt small, and he felt even smaller, trapped. His eyes darted around the room, paranoia mounting, the feeling of being watched by something far larger than anything he had ever known growing. He went to stand up, to run, but his knees wouldn’t let him. Whatever was watching was close now. It felt old…dangerous…beyond the scope of what he considered possible. As tears welled up in his eyes he was certain that this was the end, whatever this was.
“Syzmon? I get the hesitation, but trust me, it’ll all be fine.”
Her words snapped him out of his stupor. They comforted him, made him feel safe, the same way his mother’s words did when he was a child. He shook his head and stood up, following the lady to the area behind the pulpit. Here, in an area normally reserved for priests and pastors, small booths had seemingly been set up, almost like private voting areas. She beckoned for him to enter one and sit on the provided chair.
As he sat, she handed him some decidedly ancient headphones as well as a hot cup of tea, and gestured to box TV which sat in front of him.
“This’ll be the start of your education Syzmon. Just put the headphones on and watch the TV, and all your questions will be answered.”
For a second, he felt the same panic rising, but before it could take hold the TV was on and the lady was off. Static filled his ears while darkness remained on the TV, just long enough for him to think something was broken. As he waited, he sipped on the tea, its flavour muted but decidedly earthy. Thinking the tech had broken, he looked to leave, before a cacophony of noise assaulted his ears. Trumpets played, high-pitched voices sang while low-pitched voices chanted. The noise commanded his attention, as did the TV, whose screen was now flashing bright, almost psychedelic colours. The sounds and colours burnt their way into his mind, but they too would stop suddenly. Alone with his thoughts for a second, he swore he could see shadows moving about behind him, only for that thought to be tossed away as screams ripped through the headphones, so loud he could only think that they were right there next to him. The image on the screen changed, to demonstrate a woman, dressed in a plain white dress, her black hair tangling down past her shoulders and elbows, her eyes a piercing green, walking through a serene garden. As she spoke, the screams quietened but never left.
“My child. It is good to see you. I am so happy to hear you wish to join the Community.”
He calmed down with this, the woman’s voice acting as a warm blanket. The tea smelled better now somehow, and invited him to drink even more, which he did without complaint.
“You are here to learn, but what exactly is it you must be taught? You understand how to worship, how to be a good man in the Catholic world, what more could you need for a faith admittedly quite similar to your old one? Syzmon, I must tell you that we lied a tiny amount. The Community is different. How? Well, let me show you!”
The picture changed once more, bright red flashing for a second, before scenes he couldn’t even describe began to take place. His mind was assaulted with the vile inhumanity of what he saw, the images tearing at the very makeup of his personhood. And all through this the woman spoke still.
“The Community is more than just a faith you think about once or twice a year. It requires devotion, love, dedication above all else.
More images, even worse somehow, continued playing. He could feel his mind failing him, it being unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Screams began to rip through once more, and yet the woman continued to speak.
“Szymon, what you must understand is that to enjoy the fruits of the Earth and the Community, you must give yourself entirely to the Earth Mother! You must understand that man is weak, and yet they believe themselves master of every domain they seek. No longer do they toil amongst the rest of the animals, NO! Instead they work to bend every atom to their will, assuming that it is their destiny to be gods! This is not the case my child. When you join the Community, you understand that humanity has its place, not as the master of worlds, but as its servant!”
The speech rang through his head, pushing its way past the disgusting imagery and terrifying screams. It buried itself deep within his brain, in some part that he could barely even fathom, and when it did, he saw eternity. The TV shut off in that moment, the noises and images gone. And so to did Szymon, only to reawaken a second later, no longer a man of God but a child of the Earth Mother.

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REPORT: ON THE EXPANSION OF EDEN

Date: 01/01/2073

Author: Zalmoxis

For: God-King Iohannis, The Prophet Amon, & Pleistoros

I hope this email finds you all well...
The absorption of the Polish Commonwealth, alongside the final death of the EU, has rapidly transformed both the state of Eden and world affairs. This report, for your eyes only, will detail all the information I have gathered recently, both on the regions we have expanded into, and for the greater region as a whole.
The expansion of Eden has been both a positive and a negative. Of course, the positives include the realisation of Eden as a true power in the European space, as well as increased growth for the Earth Mother, though while these are self-evident, the negatives must be delved into. The most obvious negative is the increase in perversions. A more comprehensive document is on its way, however, there still remains a not-insignificant level of detail which I have obtained. Below is a list of the most relevant perversions and the changes, for your consideration.
The absorption of the Polish Commonwealth, alongside the final death of the EU, has rapidly transformed both the state of Eden and world affairs. This report, for your eyes only, will detail all the information I have gathered recently, both on the regions we have expanded into, and for the greater region as a whole.
The expansion of Eden has been both a positive and a negative. Of course, the positives include the realisation of Eden as a true power in the European space, as well as increased growth for the Earth Mother, though while these are self-evident, the negatives must be delved into. The most obvious negative is the increase in perversions. A more comprehensive document is on its way, however, there still remains a not-insignificant level of detail which I have obtained. Below is a list of the most relevant perversions and the changes, for your consideration.
The Cult of the Space Mother: An already extant perversion, Eden’s expansion into regions of the Commonwealth has seen the Cult of the Space Mother grow exponentially. Based on a technocratic-based theology, the Cult of the Space Mother believes that the Earth Mother is also the progenitor of alien lifeforms who most certainly exist, and who will come to Eden’s aid. Though harmless, the Cult has become widespread in Commonwealth converts, as its technocratic base appeals to those citizens of the ex-tech utopia. I have estimated that 1:12 converts from the Commonwealth quickly become a part of the Cult, making it increasingly significant in everyday Community life. While it is a harmless perversion, should it gain substantial weight from the new converts, the cult could represent a theocratic schism in the Community, which would be an existential threat to us all. Eden must either adapt these beliefs into its own, or snuff them out before they become something more.
The Remnants: Though the Commonwealth Army who joined Eden quickly threw off their chains and began dedicated members of the Community, such a quick large-scale conversion never could be perfect. Many of these converts have joined a perversion known as the Remnants, and while it is early days, their main differences stem from the fact that they are dedicated to the idea of the Eastern European State. While this may initially seem harmless, it means that they put the Earth Mother below Eden, and as such may be liable to cause issue if they believe the state is being put at risk for the wants of the faith. Though, this does mean that they are as dedicated as any military unit to Eden. The Remnants are also incredibly anti-Alfr, to the extent that it may be unwise to station them on the border with any Alfr state. In addition, while these reports are incredibly recent, a small number of Remnants have been found to clash with Community soldiers, especially those who either are Children or Warriors, or who are part of the Camp Follower Perversion. All of this is to say, if the Remnants are not kept in check, they could represent a fracturing force which may destroy Eden.
The Messianics: I’ll be frank. This perversion has so far mostly flew under my radar. Extant in some parts of Polish Eden, the Messianics seem to have taken Pagan-Christian syncretism to the nth degree. They believe that while the Earth Mother is the true creator, Jesus is also real, as well as being the Earth Mother’s son and the first messiah. Such a perversion is deeply concerning, because it suggests the possibility of a “new testament” Community, something which, atleast to me, seems like a possible crisis waiting to happen. Rumours are abound that these Messianics believe that another Messiah is due to come, and fewer still believe he already exists, in the form of either Iohannis or Pleistoros. This news can never reach the Earth Mother. If need be, these perverts must be stamped out.
Roman Catholics/Russian Orthodox: While not what we normally think when it comes to perversions, the recent expansion means that the Christian faith exists once more in Eden. Consisting largely in urban Belarus and rural Poland, the Christian faiths represent a heresy more than anything else. Intensive efforts are already occurring as to convert all who remain Christian, but lethal force is on the table should any holdout cities, towns, or villages not take to the Community. If they wish to meet their Lord so much, may their blood feed our Earth Mother.
Beyond these perversions, Eden’s strategic situation must be acknowledged. That is not my area of expertise, and I defer to both Pleistoros and Iohannis on the matter. However, the Earth Mother has recently spoken to me, suggesting that the Eden’s most major goal at this moment is the reunification of the Eastern Union (to be renamed to the Eden Union). This includes the Second Roman Republic, the UNSC-held Baltics, and the Russian Remnant state. While I will not say my thoughts on this goal here… it is perhaps something we should keep in consideration.
Thus ends this rather brief report. At the current rate, Eden should be back to near 100% Community penetration by 2077, though it is highly likely this could be sped up. Efforts will be undertaken to ensure the Community outside of Eden spreads also, as having a prior base will assist incredibly with any future conquests.

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The Palace of the Earth Mother, Eden City

The test shook in her hand. She hadn’t believed it, thinking for days that the symptoms were something else. Yet as the bile rose up her throat, she stared at the two red lines, which seemed to stare back at her, almost alive and demonic in their nature. Screaming, she threw the test down and stormed out, walking to the darkest depths of the Palace. Even as she left that wretched thing behind, one question stuck out in her head.
What would it mean for a god, the God, to have a child?

Summary

• Name: The Garden of Eden
• Capital: Eden City (Bucharest)
• Language: Pontic & Proto-Indo-European
• Government: Theocratic Absolute Monarchy
• Leaders: The Earth Mother & God-King Iohannis
• GDP (nominal): $3,190,440,576,898
• Population: Incalculable 167,342,102
• FLAG

"Congratulations and sorry for your loss," the solicitor exclaimed. "A distant relative has left you their storage unit and all of its contents. Here are all the details that I have." They then gave me folder full of paperwork and directions to an old storage facility just outside of town. Two keys were also included.
Getting into my car, I laid the folder on the passenger seat and stared at it. Who was this person? Have I actually met them before? How did they know me? All these questions and more swirled around in my head. "Well it’s mine now," I said aloud, "I suppose I should see what I’ve been given."
I put the location into my car navigation system and started the engine.
After an uneventful forty-five minute drive across town I arrived at the storage building, the security gate was open so I drove in and parked up next to the entrance. The car-park was eerily empty. The building looked like it had been abandoned, rust and decay was everywhere. The car park itself was pot-holed and cracked – weeds growing where they could.
Picking up the folder I got stepped out and headed for the entrance. It was a plain solid iron door with just a handle and key hole, both also looking rusty and unused. Other than a small warn sign there was nothing to indicate that this door was the entrance, it looked more like a fire exit, yet as far as I could tell it was the only door facing the car park.
I took a look at the two keys that were given to me in the folder, one looked like a standard cylinder lock key and could fit this door, the other was a shape I had not seen before. Three ridged sides instead of the usual one and the head contained a small blue jewel that seemed to glow gently. Taking the normal key, I opened the door and walked inside.
I was now in a short windowless corridor another door at the far side. The corridor was dimly lit with a single hanging lightbulb and like the outside of the building it was in a very sorry state of disrepair. I sighed inwardly and what I was getting myself into. The second door was slightly ajar and I could see a strip of light was escaping from the other side.
I reached for the handle of the second door and pulled it open, immediately shielding my eyes from the intense light that accosted me.
"Hello and welcome to Ethereal Storage!" Someone announced cheerily.
"Oh, hi, hello," I replied still covering my eyes, "just give me a sec to adjust to this light, it’s bright."
"No rush, no rush" they said.
Once I could remove my arm from my eyes and the squinting had all but stopped, I see this new room I was in. It was white, very very white. The walls, floor, ceiling all white, even the furniture was white. Not another hint of colour anywhere, except that was, for the person sat at the desk smiling at me. He was wearing a harlequin or court-jester outfit. Once he saw me looking at him, he give me a wave and pointed to a char that was setup opposite his desk.
"Please have a seat, I am sure you have questions."
"Thank you," I replied sinking into chair provided. "Oh, this is quite comfortable!"
"My name is Bob, and I am the custodian of this facility. What can I help you with today?" He asked.
"Right yes. I have just been informed that one of my distant relatives has died and left me a storage unit and all its contents, but I have no idea who this person is, so I don’t know why they have left me this."
"Ah, very sorry to hear that. Are those the details?" he asked pointing at the folder I was holding, "may I see them?"
"Yes of course," I replied handing it over.
Bob took the folder and slowly tipped the contents on to his desk, the odd-shaped key escaping first and skittering gently across the surface. "Oh wonderful, I see you have the original key!" Bob smiled. "In a lot of cases this gets lost in the kerfuffle and it’s such a mountain of paperwork to get a new one made and registered correctly."
Shuffling though the paperwork, Bob made a few distracted ‘uh-huh’ and ‘ooh’ noises. Once he had been though it all twice and made three piles of papers.
"These ones," he said pointing to the left most pile, "you don’t really need - they are receipts of payments made to us. If I remember correctly this account is fully paid for quite a long time, so there is no need to worry about any future payments."
"That’s good, I don’t know where I would get the money from anyway." I replied happily.
"This next pile you should keep safe. It’s receipts for most of the items in the locker itself. ‘Proof of purchase’ if you will. Quite important. I can help you go though and catalogue these if you require."
"Yes please, I wouldn’t know where to start with all this."
"This last pile, these two sheets of paper," Bob said holding them up, one in each hand, "are the most important and must never leave your possession – unless you are in this office of course," he smiled. "This one provides proof of the owner of the locker in question and this one allows entry to this storage facility. They are almost impossible to replace."
"OK," was all I could reply.
"If you imagine the mountain of paperwork just to replace this key, well each of this documents on their own would require a world of paperwork and several blood sacrifices."
"...wait, what?" I asked before being interrupted.
"But never mind all that, let’s see your locker and I’ll tell you what you have gotten yourself into!" He laughed and stood up. "These documents will be safe here and you’ll need the key."
Pointing to the far wall a small key hole had appeared, or had it always been there? "Please insert it when you are ready." he smiled.
Getting up from the chair, I reached over to the table and picked up the key, it felt heavy in my hand, the faint glow brightening as I neared the wall. Once I inserted the key it seemed to turn on its own, several clicking mechanisms could be heard as it did so and after a few moments the outline of a large set of double doors appeared in a soft blue light, a colour matching the jewel in the keys head.
"After you," Bob prompted as the newly created doors slid open revealing a spacious storage room.
"Wow," I managed after a few seconds.
The room was lined with floor to ceiling shelves on three sides, each of which was filled with old looking wooden boxes alongside cheap modern cardboard ones. In the middle of the room was a carpeted area with two chairs, a small side-table and three very sizeable round-topped chests – the type you see in pirate films.
"Wow," I repeated, "What is all this stuff?"
"This was your late relative’s storage locker, it is now yours. Come. Sit," he said walking over to one of the chairs in the middle.
I slowly made my way over to a chair, turning like a ballerina as I did so trying to take in the entire room. There was a lot of stuff in here.
Bob continued, "one of the documents from your ‘keep’ pile is a manifest of all the boxes, their location and contents. Scanning down the first page it looks like everything is where it should be. Now, where to start?" he mused.

To be clear, I'm talking about languages such as Italian, Spanish, French or Portuguese. (I mean Romanian is also one of them.) They all have gender cases including gendered nouns. I do keep hearing that English speakers have an 'easier' time to learn them due to them having an alphabet, plus they are considered "Romance" languages. (I'm not going to talk about that here, as there are many posts mentioning them.)
Instead, I'm discussing on how hard are both Mandarin & Japanese for native French, Spanish, Italian or Portuguese speakers to learn? Since both JP & ZH are completely alien to European languages in terms of their writing system, grammar or syntax, so they have no common ground with the European framework in regards to their orthography or grammar.

Even though Japanese has hiragana / katakana, it does not mean they write every word like that, since they have Kanji. (It helps condense sentence length, also that makes it clearer to tell the difference on what the correct word is, as some sound exactly the same but have different meanings altogether.

The features that each language has:

Mandarin	Japanese
Tones (4-5)	Pitch accent
Classifiers (for counting)	Counting words
Stroke order (differs from Japanese)	Stroke order (differs from Mandarin)
Word particles (different from Japanese)	Word particles (different from Mandarin)
Polite language (formality)	Keigo & Honorifics
Sentence structure: SVO	Sentence structure: SOV
Untranslatable nuances	Untranslatable nuances

From both ZH & JP: 1 漢字 equates to a SINGLE word in which multiple letters are needed in European languages to spell out. Both Kanji & Hanzi are drawn from visual concepts on how they interpret a word based on semantic meaning. (Characters are fun for caligraphy practice, it's also a work of art.) For reference, take the Kanji & Hanzi: 川
[The stroke order between both languages are different despite having the same character for some words, since they are both different languages after all.]
The shape of the character is derivative on how its visualized.

Japanese - 訓読み：かわ・音読み：セン
Mandarin - Pinyin: Chuān

For instance, take the kanji & hanzi:「軍」
As you can see, a single kanji & hanzi already equates to 1 word as it is logographic, which will require multiple letters in Romance languages to spell.
Kanji from Japanese has multiple readings for ONE character, for example:「行」
An example of a Kanji, but as indicated their phonologies change depending on how it used within a word, or placed in a sentence.

Kunyomi: Native Japanese Reading of a kanji.
Onyomi: Reading of a kanji derivative of Mandarin phonology.
Nanori: These readings only apply when a kanji is used within a persons name.

That is also another "complex" part of Japanese, as kanji has multiple pronunciations alone. (Yep, this applies to most of the 2,136+ characters having their own assigned phonologies that differ.)
This often gets lost in translation (like all the time!), as ONE character can imply so many definitions depending on the context you associate it with, in a literal or figurative sense. As opposed to European languages, the translation is mainly consistent with what you put it for "common" words but there are some that can also pose multiple meanings.

Japanese & Mandarin	Romance (Euro) languages (letter count)
They have a large amount of characters, getting the feeling like it's 'limitless' but they contrast around 2,000 - 10,000+ in their total amount.	French (26), Spanish (27), Italian (21) & Portuguese (26) As they are alphabetical, you read each letter as it is.
Both languages have zero concept of gender cases as it's not a thing in Japanese & Mandarin.	They have gender cases and gendered nouns (Whether it is FR, ES, IT or PT.)

On the other hand, they both have idioms and proverbs you can create out of 4 characters, conveying a proverb and idiomatic phrase (both in a literal & figurative sense) using only 4 characters:

• In Mandarin - 成語
• In Japanese - 四字熟語

As mentioned, they only use 4 characters to construct a proverb & idiom.

I mean, can you also do this in European languages: only using 4 short words alone? (To create a proverb that still conveys an idiomatic meaning with only 4 words.)

Both Mandarin and Japanese have radicals (on both hanzi & kanji) which are building blocks of their characters, that radical has a meaning on its own as it's derivative of an existing word, but when associated with another kanji & hanzi. (Hence why some characters look similar to one another.)
The connotation of its meaning can change, but the theme surrounding the vocabulary involving the radical still conveys a message despite it being a different word entirely, even though the radical is present in an unrelated word that does not relate to the meaning of the radical.
As shown, pay close attention to the radical present in these words. (Despite some of them having the same one, they connotate a different word entirely.)

The Kanji in Grey: Unreleated words surrounding the radical present.
The Kanji in Pink: Related words surrounding the radical present.
Be careful not to get these mixed up, you need a good eye to distiguish them apart.

List of words from Mandarin containing the radical 女.

The Hanzi in Pink - Words associated with nouns relating to girls & women.
The Hanzi in Purple - Words associated with a "positive" connotation.
The Hanzi in Maroon - Words associated with womanhood.

Japanese

They have 45 ひらがな & 45 カタカナ but that is only scratching the surface, not forgetting to include over 2,136+ 漢字 with readings such as: 訓読み, 音読み & 名乗り for each character, imagine doing that 2k times, knowing all the phonologies for most or all of them.
The grammar too is alien to all European languages, as what is stated last in a [EU lang] sentence is positioned at the beginning in Japanese. On top of kanji implying more than one definition as it is dependent on context, also the reading can change if its paired with kana or another kanji.

For example, take the sentence「ジュールズさんが家族と家でフランス語を話します」(You can clearly see as indicated by the word positionings: Japanese word order is SOV while the translations below it are complicit with the SVO order as usual in European languages.)
As shown here, the sentence strutcure in Japanese is very different to the counterparts in French, Spanish, Italian or Portuguese. (Indicated in color)

The さん (in red) is a honorific. (More about that later.)

Subject omission is common in Japanese, as they don't always need to include words like (I am, me, we, us, etc.) as opposed to European languages where it's needed, since you are already inferring to the speaker in question, so it is a lot more straight forward. For instance:
From this sentence (私は) is omitted in Japanese. (Translations conveyed in brackets and light text.)

To speakers of Romance languages, can you omit words like "I am" or any pronoun alike and still be understood by the other party? (Can it really work?)
For example, in Portuguese: instead of saying "O meu nome é Francisco" > just put it as "Francisco" [Omitting O meu nome é] (in Japanese that is connotated as フランシスコです - without 私は)

I won't forget 丁寧語、尊敬語、謙遜語 which are all part of 敬語 in Japanese, especially in verbs as to express a level of politeness (in corporate or formal setting) to empathize respect to the other party to not be connotated as rude (you can use the 'normal' variant but that will come off as impolite - in let's say a business meeting or any formal event / setting.), between a "dictionary" form including teineigo, sonkeigo & kensongo. For instance:
As you can see, all 4 variations of 1 verb exist in Japanese, keeping in mind with the level of formality on which variant you'll use. (They all mean 1 verb, but connotate different levels of politeness, empathizing the level of respect or decorum.)

For example, you would not use 言う in an formal setting when talking to people within either a business or special occassion where decorum is required, you would instead use 申し上げる or something amongst the lines of おっしゃる depending on the situation and setting or formality.
Is there anything like this in European languages to this extent? If not, then this will be difficult for you all to fully understand as there's verbs in Japanese that do this based on the level of decorum incuding the setting you are in, the people you are talking to.

The honorific system in Japanese is often "lost in translation" as evident in both manga or anime (what I hate about translation is that they transliterate it instead of coming up with an equivalent), as there are many levels of politeness and formality within their language, for example:

日本語	Roughly equivalent to:
博士 (はかせ)	Dr. / PhD
後輩 (こうはい)	Junior
先輩 (せんぱい)	Senior
先生 (せんせい)	Teach / Mr / Mrs
様 (さま)	Mr / Mrs (Formal variant, eg. clients, judges)
さん	Mr / Mrs (Addressed towards grown ups)
たん	(Refers to babies)
ちゃん	(Refers to young children - boys / girls)
殿 (どの)	(Formal / archanic ver: of you)
君 (くん)	(Semi-formal title referring to men)
氏 (し)	(Used for family names or important stuff alike)
陛下 (へいか)	Your Majesty
殿下 (でんか)	Your Highness
閣下 (かっか)	Your excelency
坊 (ぼう)	(A term for endearment regarding young boys)
被告 (ひこく)	(Addresses the accused - legal / court)
容疑者 (ようぎしゃ)	(Addresses the suspect - police / legal)
受刑者 (じゅけいしゃ)	(Addresses the one convicted - legal / court)

Of course this also gets lost in translation, in European languages as they OFTEN just romanize the term, which is not how you are not meant to translate it. (If there is no actual equivalent in European languages, just omit it instead of transliterating it.)

In regards to Kanji: there are words that bare the same phoneme, but keep in mind of numerous kanji variations that also possess the same phonology, with each having their own separate meanings. For example, take the onyomi reading for カン -
I only listed 100 kanji that are pronounced the same, but there are 286 more with the same sound: カン (By the way, each kanji has their own definition.)

This phoneme (カン) alone comprises 386 漢字 in Japanese, some of the characters have become 'obscure' in their usage, as in you don't even know they existed until you've looked hard enough. (Even native speakers don't know all of them.)
How difficult is this concept for speakers of European languages to remember and fully grasp? (Some of the kanji are used for people's names.)

The most diffcult part a "word" can have various meanings for one phoneme, take for example 「こうか」which comprises of 39 words with this pronunciation, so depending on the sentence you are listening to or reading, you got to infer the correct one based on context. Also, Japanese has 188 word particles in total. (I won't list them all.)
I can only think of 54 word particles that are used in Japanese sentences. (Although there are quite a lot, with specific uses.)
In terms of how counting works in Japanese, it is not like in European languages at all. Japanese has 助数詞, which are counting / measure words used to count the number of things, actions, events, items, and etc. to make it clear on what you are exactly counting.
A list of Japanese 助数詞 - (There's about 350 of them, but I won't list them all.)

There is so many counter words in Japanese, that even native speakers don't even use ALL of them, as their uses are situational or only applicable in some instances.

Counting suffix (within a number / qty.)	A rough summary
つ	A counter for [things] in general, as it is also commonly used in Japanese.
個	Counter for [no. of pieces] or some things, you see this word in relation to let's say: food.
本	Counts books, pens, pencils, nail clippers, etc. (This one is quite versatile in its usage.)
枚	Equiv. to no. of reams of paper, no. of pics, also counts bath mats, credit cards, clothing, etc.
匹	Used for counting [small / medium] animals (eg. household pets or other small creatures.)
頭	Counter for [no. of livestock] or large animals such as elephants, whales, camels, etc.
冊	Primarily a counting suffix used for documents or books (equiv. to: Olivier read 3 books.)
台	Counting word in relation to the no. of vehicles (such as trucks or cars) for example.
羽	Counter word for birds (specifically) but can be used to count rabbits too.
階	Used to refer to no. of storeys or floors within a building. (eg this apartment has 20 floors.)
缶	Refers to the no. of [cans] such as soda cans, tins, paint cans, etc. (When empty, use: 個)
巻	Refers to no. of [books / comics] in a series. (equiv to: Carlos read all 7 harry potter novels.)
切れ	Refers to no. of [sliced food] (equiv. to: Maria sliced 4 loaves of bread for her sibilings.)
口	As a counter, it refers to [times] bitten in food. (equiv. to: Pierre took one bite from a scone.)
件	Refers to the no. of [cases / incidents] but this counter has versatility in its usage.

For example, the counting word 羽 is present in Japanese (regardless if it is singular or plural), as it is needed to be specific on the indicator within a numerical unit of [something / someone / event / action, etc.] to clarify what you're referring to.
As highlighted, the presence of the counting word is needed. It's not conveyed in the translations displayed below.
Pitch accent is another part of Japanese phonology, as the word can change based on the volume of each phoneme depending on your pronunciation, it connotates a different word altogether affecting the overall meaning, on what you actually want to say. For example, take むし -
Accent 1 is noted as High Low & Accent 2 is noted as Low High. The pitch accent connotates a different word despite them both sounding similar to one another, as in adjusting the volume of one phoneme upon your pronunciation.

Mandarin

7,000 - 80,000+ 漢字 (There are dictionaries that state the existence of around 106,230 漢字 in Mandarin.) However a modern dictionary only features 20,000 hanzi while an educated native speaker memorizes 8,000 hanzi but reading a newspaper only requires knowing 3,000 hanzi.
The sentence structure is different from Japanese (as it is SVO), although their wordings can imply more than one definition, as it is also dependent on how you associate it within a sentence, keep in mind too that they also have tones embedded within their phonology.

For example, take the sentence「醫生根據病人的病情以最好的方式治療他們」(You can clearly see the differences, as indicated by the word positionings - shown in color.)
As shown, the positioning of the words from Mandarin are different despite the word order being SVO, the translations are still different regardless.
Another feature that Mandarin has are separable verbs. (It may sound confusing at first) From this example, take the verb: 見面 (Rencontrer / Incontrare / Conocerte / Conhecer) used here:
As indicated, the hanzi 面 is omitted since 見 already conveys the verb.

Can you also do this in French, Spanish, Italian or Portuguese?

In this example, an extra hanzi (了 - as an particle / indicator: past tense) is added in the middle but the verb 吃飯 (Repas / Mangiare / Comer / Come) is still intact:
As the hanzi 了 is placed inbetween both 吃 and 飯, but the verb overall is still there.
From Mandarin - there are words that sound the "same" to the untrained musical ear, as it is a tonal language, so you need to keep that in mind, for example from pinyin: 'bi' consists of multiple hanzi depending on the tone you use, based on pronuncation.
All of them may sound the \"same\" to the untrained musical ear, but they are completely different words altogether. That is the difficult part of Mandarin for \"Euro\" language speakers as it's not a thing in their languages.
There are phonemes from Mandarin that comprise of a LOT of hanzi (that imply different definitions altogether, based on tones.) from 1 sound alone, such as this example below:
I can only think of 82 hanzi which all are pronounced as \"BI\" (there are perhaps more) but their tones connotate a different word. (Also, pay attention to the radicals.)
Like Japanese, Mandarin has word particles too. For example:
Some word particles present in Mandarin. (Although there are perhaps more.)
Akin to the Japanese counting system, Mandarin has 漢語量詞 which are classifiers used to count the number of things, actions, events, items, and etc. to make it clear on what you are exactly counting, that classifier is tied to a specific category and usage.
As indicated, the classifer 輛 is required to be within the sentence in Mandarin. (As you can see from the translations, an equivalent word for that classifier doesn't exist.)
A list of Mandarin 漢語量詞 - (There's quite a few, but I won't list them all.)

Although these classifers can imply multiple meanings and uses, it's context specific though if you want to know what that classifer is referring to.

Classifier (no. / qty. of something / action)	A rough explanation
句	Refers to no of. [lines / sentences] (equiv. to: Sam wrote on the first 2 lines of his book.)
發	Refers to no. of [rounds / bullets] (equiv. to: Diego fired 20 rounds from his M16A4.)
封	Refers to [letters - mail] (equiv. to: Ella opened 4 letters coming from the city council.)
根	Refers to [long thin] objects, eg. needles. (equiv. to: Jack only found 1 needle in a haystack.)
棵	No. of trees (equiv. to: Alice planted 6 trees around the park not far from Paris.)
輛	No. of vehicles (eg. Giovani spotted 3 cars in front of him during a traffic jam in Rome.)
列	Refers to [rows / columns] (eg. Adrian had to wait within a queue stetching 3 rows.)
首	Refers to [poems] (equiv. to: Theo wrote 7 poems within the first month or so.)
水	No of. [rinses / times washed] (eg. Henry washed his laundry for the third time.)
堂	No of. [periods within a class] (eg. Claire skipped 2 study periods for her English exam.)
班	No of [students] (eg. Jean knew there were 20 other pupils in his English class.)
牀	Refers to the [no. of blankets / sheets] (eg. James placed 3 bedsheets in the cabinet.)
排	Refers to [items grouped in rows] (eg. Sally saw 4 chairs untucked in the classroom.)
部	Refers to [no. of movies / novels] (eg. Chris Pratt starred in 3 films this year.)
包	Refers to [no. of packages / bundles] (eg. Reese received 3 bundles of bubble wrap.)

In European languages, do you also have counter words or classifers in relation to numerical units when referring to specific nouns? If not, than this concept from both Japanese & Mandarin might be a struggle to wrap your head around. (As there's one for EVERYTHING, quite a lot!)

Hanzi can be flipped to create:

1. Reversal of verbs & adjectives
2. Different meanings
3. Similar meanings
4. Loosely related definition
5. Closely related definition
6. Logical meanings

Japanese: Kanji can their positions swapped, but in doing so changes the meaning completely.

[Apologies for the long post: since there's a LOT of detail to uncover.]
In hindsight:

• Japanese has different word order compared to Romance langauges, how hard is this grammatical difference for European language speakers to wrap their head around?
• In terms of the honorific system and levels of politeness in speech: Does that really exist in European languages to the extent of Japanese, even for the slightest ones?
• How common is subject omission in European languages? I mean is it to the extent of Japanese in terms of it being common throughout Romance languages. (omitting words or pronouns like: Us, I'm, We, etc.)?
• From European languages: can you omit or separate as well as adding an extra [letter] to verbs witnin a sentence (like Mandarin) and still be understood?
• Since Japanese & Mandarin are logographic and heavily draw on visual concepts for their vocabulary having thousands of characters, how difficult is it for Romance language speakers?
• Tones from Mandarin: How difficult are those for speakers of Romance languages to determine the "right" word by listening to the "same" phoneme 4-5 times at different volume & tone?
• How difficult is the Japanese counting system for speakers of European languages to grasp, since there are 350 of these counting suffixes and specific words integral to numerical units?
• Mandarin has classifiers when referring to numerical units (akin to the Japanese counting system) how hard is this concept for native speakers of Romance languages?