Williams toney funeral home

Somebody changed Bill Wambsganss Wikipedia 😂😂🤣

2023.05.29 06:42 anotherstockusername Somebody changed Bill Wambsganss Wikipedia 😂😂🤣


https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bill_Wambsganss
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2023.05.29 06:33 Salt-Guarantee7278 I (26F) found out my husband (30M) had been cheating on me….again

My husband and I have been together for ~8 year, but only married for 2. We are usually each others best friend complete with all the inside jokes, banter and just being silly with each other.
After getting married he had been working the night shift at his company and I worked the “normal” people hours of 9-5 so we hardly saw each other. One day I picked his phone up off the couch so our dog wouldn’t jump and break it, the screen was unlocked and I saw he had been on OnlyFans and was subscribed to many women’s pages and made A LOT of comments on each video. When I confronted him with this he was ashamed then apologized to me and promised to work on the relationship to make everything better. We seemed to get back into the same page and I thought we were doing well. Fast forward a couple months and I was helping him fill out paperwork as he was starting a business and when I was filling out the paperwork I was looking through his emails for passwords, usernames, stuff like that and I saw that he had been paying women for sexy/inappropriate videos and pictures. I confronted him with this new discovery and you guessed it…. He felt ashamed and embarrassed and apologized. This time I had had it, I took my dog and went to my family members house for a couple of days. I eventually came home and we worked on the relationship. We then move across the country for his job as he wasn’t feeling fulfilled there either. We have both been stressed as we moved away from all our family and we moved our whole lives across many many states with multiple dogs. We finally got into a house and have been working on getting life settled. I had recently visiting home to attend a funeral of a close family member and he stayed behind. When I returned home I felt that things were off. We had a discussion and he told me that he was just stressed with work and that our house was chaotic and dirty and he thought it would help his anxiety if it was cleaner. I agreed as I had been slacking on cleaning. Well 2 weeks go by and I have been cleaning my butt off; I kept the dishes out of the sink, I make sure the laundry was taken care of and vacuumed daily. And I was literally having to beg for him to spend 5 mins with me away from his video games. Which he then told me that he felt claustrophobic by me doing this. Well this morning he received a call that woke me up so I went to get his phone and see what was going on. Well I had that feeling in the back of my brain, I like to think women’s intuition, to just open his phone and look at his notifications. Well as I’m sure you know at this point there was a notification from a money exchange app that his account was reactivated. I then took that as my warrant to invade and investigate this person I didn’t feel like was mine anymore. There is was messages to another girl about how he wanted to do a FaceTime date with her (and he sent it while we were having dinner together), there were AI chats that were all sexual, and his email was all about talking to other women.
I confronted him about what I found and he then started to act ashamed and kept saying, “I know, I hate myself”. He insists that he wants to work on the relationship and wants to get help from therapy. At this point I don’t believe him and I am not expecting anything to happened until I see some real change.
Is this a relationship dealbreaker? Yes or No? TIA
submitted by Salt-Guarantee7278 to relationship_advice [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 06:30 Salt-Guarantee7278 I (26F) found out my husband (30M) had been cheating on me….again

My husband and I have been together for ~8 year, but only married for 2. We are usually each others best friend complete with all the inside jokes, banter and just being silly with each other.
After getting married he had been working the night shift at his company and I worked the “normal” people hours of 9-5 so we hardly saw each other. One day I picked his phone up off the couch so our dog wouldn’t jump and break it, the screen was unlocked and I saw he had been on OnlyFans and was subscribed to many women’s pages and made A LOT of comments on each video. When I confronted him with this he was ashamed then apologized to me and promised to work on the relationship to make everything better. We seemed to get back into the same page and I thought we were doing well. Fast forward a couple months and I was helping him fill out paperwork as he was starting a business and when I was filling out the paperwork I was looking through his emails for passwords, usernames, stuff like that and I saw that he had been paying women for sexy/inappropriate videos and pictures. I confronted him with this new discovery and you guessed it…. He felt ashamed and embarrassed and apologized. This time I had had it, I took my dog and went to my family members house for a couple of days. I eventually came home and we worked on the relationship. We then move across the country for his job as he wasn’t feeling fulfilled there either. We have both been stressed as we moved away from all our family and we moved our whole lives across many many states with multiple dogs. We finally got into a house and have been working on getting life settled. I had recently visiting home to attend a funeral of a close family member and he stayed behind. When I returned home I felt that things were off. We had a discussion and he told me that he was just stressed with work and that our house was chaotic and dirty and he thought it would help his anxiety if it was cleaner. I agreed as I had been slacking on cleaning. Well 2 weeks go by and I have been cleaning my butt off; I kept the dishes out of the sink, I make sure the laundry was taken care of and vacuumed daily. And I was literally having to beg for him to spend 5 mins with me away from his video games. Which he then told me that he felt claustrophobic by me doing this. Well this morning he received a call that woke me up so I went to get his phone and see what was going on. Well I had that feeling in the back of my brain, I like to think women’s intuition, to just open his phone and look at his notifications. Well as I’m sure you know at this point there was a notification from a money exchange app that his account was reactivated. I then took that as my warrant to invade and investigate this person I didn’t feel like was mine anymore. There is was messages to another girl about how he wanted to do a FaceTime date with her (and he sent it while we were having dinner together), there were AI chats that were all sexual, and his email was all about talking to other women.
I confronted him about what I found and he then started to act ashamed and kept saying, “I know, I hate myself”. He insists that he wants to work on the relationship and wants to get help from therapy. At this point I don’t believe him and I am not expecting anything to happened until I see some real change.
Is this the end of the marriage? Yes or No
submitted by Salt-Guarantee7278 to Marriage [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 06:25 Affectionate_Cry_144 I hate every one of my siblings

I hate all 3 of my siblings. I am 29, my siblings are all in their 40's. I became my mothers primary caregiver when I was 14. I would go to school, come home amd take care of her. Just as I was getting old enough to drive, she lost her ability to drive so I became her taxi. I made all doctors appointments, all medical decisions and planned all outings to attempt to keep her from getting depressed and being stuck in the house. I love my mom deeply and I've never regretted it. She was a single mom to all 4 of us and always did whatever was necessary to take care of us. She quite literally would've crossed oceans for anyone of us.
When I turned 24 she got very sick, very fast. One of my brothers lived with us, the other brother lived about 20 mins away, and my sister lived an hour away. They all left me to make the decision to take her to the hospital, left me to bring her back home and figure out meds and a new routine. She got sick again and they left me to figure out the hospital again, go see her everyday (she was in there for months) and pick out a nursing home. Then they left me to pull her out when the home was mistreating her and I had to figure out therapists and how to take care of her on my own at home and still work to keep a roof over our head. Had to go to the hospital again, decide on a surgery, take phone calls from doctors, be there to speak to doctors. Then they left me to decide to pull the plug by myself, pick out a funeral home by myself and pack up our house by myself when she passed.
My now husband proposed to me in October of 2017, she got sick beginning in January 2018 and ultimately passed away in July of 2018. What was supposed to be one of the best periods of my life was filled with loneliness, grief and just anger. Angry because my mom was my best friend and I knew she was dying. Angry because all she ever did was be good to us and my siblings are fucking assholes who don't give a shit. Angry because if I hadn't had my fiance by my side then I would've had no one. Angry because my mom passed away 3 months before my wedding.
I hate my siblings for leaving me to try and manage everything on my own. Not sure if I can ever forgive them. I am so thankful I had the opportunity to care for my mom but im so sad that she noticed that my siblings didn't care about her or anyone else.
submitted by Affectionate_Cry_144 to offmychest [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 06:25 Trooper-Man1776 Dear Dad. I just need to vent.

You died back in March, but I couldn't get back home to say goodbye to you properly. We still live 9 hours away and no longer have a car. We tried to figure things out, but we just couldn't afford to even send just me back home for the funeral. I'm sorry, Dad. I know which cemetery you're in and I hope I can get home in a year or two. I'd told Mom that I couldn't make it and she understood. I knew you weren't doing well, the last time we spoke. It won't be the same, but as I said, I'll try to come home soon and see you. 88 years was a good long run. Wherever you are now, take care, Dad.
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2023.05.29 06:02 Starksommers Dead crows, did I mess up?

I have always admired crows from afar due to their high intelligence. We have some large trees in our yard and crows are always around. Every morning they’re in the front lawn eating some earthworms and keeping to themselves. It was quite a shock when my family came home from a hike today and there were two dead crows under a tree in our backyard. They looked like they just dropped and had been perfectly healthy moments before. I can’t think of a cause? We don’t use pesticides, no cats, no large windows…upon doing some local research there appears to be a bird flu spreading in the area. Anyone know if that’s a likely culprit?
Well I have two small children and a small dog so I had to get those full grown birds disposed of. As soon as I walked out with my trash bag, gloves, and shovel four to five crows circled around me in the trees cawing non stop. It was already traumatic enough to have to dispose of them but the added drama put me on edge. After getting them in the bag they followed me all the way to the garbage bin cawing the whole time. I’ve been in the house for an hour now and they’re still going at it.
After some research on the google machine, it appears maybe they were holding a funeral? Either way I hope they didn’t mistake me for cause of their friends unlucky fate, as I’ve heard of their facial recognition lasting quite awhile.
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2023.05.29 05:01 beck489 Give me your honest thoughts!

Give me your honest thoughts! submitted by beck489 to thesmiths [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 04:09 Madness_Combat_man My Timeline (long as heck)

PROLOGUE: This story begins with two families, the Emilys and the Aftons. William Afton and Henry Emily, the businessman and the engineer, two people who together formed an empire, an empire of happiness, an empire where fun and joy come to life. now let's stop nonsense, not everything is rosy. Afton, William Afton has problems, he is going through a divorce and several court battles for the custody of his children, but he is a liar, a cheater. he always lies in court and yet ends up winning custody of each of his children. His wife, the mother of his children, she couldn't stand being alone, being betrayed. unfortunately, she took her own life, she could not stand it.
MIDNIGHT MOTORIST: William was devastated, even being apart affected him. He buried the body of his wife near the house, but he couldn't stand it, he fell into alcohol to the point of being kicked out of JR'S, the local bar. William, drunk and blinded by rage, goes to fredbear's family diner, the restaurant that he and henry opened to get even with henry, but he doesn't find henry, but his daughter, charlie. William, having no one to take it out on and being drunk, made a decision, a decision that would torment him for the rest of his days... after the murder, William watched from his car and noticed that the security puppet left the restaurant to rescue Charlie, but it was too late. Upon noticing this, William ran away at full speed because they could see him, when he got home after passing the speed limit of the roundabout Michael, his oldest son tells him "he had a long day, don't bother him" but he doesn't tell him I was going to say what to do, he was just a teenager. "I told you not to lock your door" "OPEN THE DOOR" William yells "I'll find a way in from the outside" he whispers as he leaves the house, coming out and around the house to his youngest son window he realizes something "he ran away to that place again" the window of the youngest son was broken "when he comes back he will be sorry" he thinks in his mind.
THE BITE OF 83: William knew that his youngest son was running away, even with the bullying he received from his older brother wearing that old, dirty and butchered foxy mask was not enough to prevent his escapes so William thought of taking action more extreme... from his office in his secret "bunker" he was monitoring the cameras that he installed in his youngest son's room while talking to him through a walkie-talkie that he attached to his son's favorite stuffed animal , everything seemed "normal" until now, but his plan would start at night, monstrous versions of the animatronics that his son once adore began to hunt him at night, leaving him without rest from 12 to 6 A.M. His plan worked perfectly, for every night that passed was another day of pure whining. Michael loved it, from one day to the next his younger brother began to be afraid of him and to celebrate he planned the ultimate joke. The next day, michael and his friends were ready, they grabbed michael's little brother, they took him in front of fredbear, they picked him up and..."i think the birthday boy wants to kiss fredbear in 3,2,1... Michael said before his brother's skull was crushed. michael and his friends stopped laughing and began to stress, scream and cry, while the day shift guard called an ambulance. After that William and Michael became distant, with each passing day William became more distant, each day spending more time in his office. He didn't even bother drinking alcohol anymore, William was furious about what Michael did and he wanted him to suffer the consequences and that's when he remembered those animatronics he used against his youngest son that were supposedly nightmares, he's going to make Michael pay for it. what he did.
EPILOGUE: William returns to fredbear's after charlie's "incident", but william noticed something strange in the puppet, charlie's body was covered by the puppet that miraculously continued to work, because it was making a short circuit due to the rain that night, William arrived at the scene of the crime and immediately the puppet began to wave its malfunctioning arms while pointing at william with purple tears that he did not have before, but that did not matter too much to him because they were taking the puppet to the sister location of fredbear's, freddy fazbear's pizza.
FREDDY'S: Due to various springlock failures, the incident involving William's son and the murder of Charlie, the springlock suits and the puppet were removed to Freddy fazbear pizza to be remodeled and used in safer ways, henry was in charge of the pizzeria, even after the death of charlie he was taking care of his work, something that he does not share with William. While Michael suffered at night, William thought about the puppet, about how it was aimed at him, about its tears that were painted on his mask. "Is it Charlie?", he wondered, curiosity was killing him so he decided to do an experiment. William drove to Freddy's, put on the springbonnie suit and started telling lies "your dog is alive, follow me" he lured the kids into the safe room and killed them one by one although he went a bit too far with the fifth "I'll put a bag on the head and I'll hit him with a shovel" poor Cassidy, William put each body in a suit to test if it had an effect, he left the suit and left without anyone seeing him, or so he thought, because the cameras saw him with the suit, but the police let him off because there was no evidence of him being the one wearing the suit.
CBEAR: William knew he had to keep experimenting, but he couldn't go back to Freddy's or the police would eventually catch him, so he got down to business, William created animatronics with mechanisms to catch and kill children, so William could catch and kill children(duh). experimenting with this new thing he discovered called "remnant" but his animatronics didn't kill the right girl. "Daddy, but didn't you just make it for me?" When no one was looking, Elizabeth, William's daughter, approached the circus baby who was tempting her with ice cream, but that didn't turn out very well...
FNAF 2: Freddy's reopens its doors, even with the blood stains in his name he manages to sell pizza and merchandise, William, seeing that Freddy's reopened without him as co-founder, he will not let them take all the glory, if he could kill 5 kids then he can kill another 5, even though he didn't have his rabbit costume he still has the bear costume. This time William didn't even bother to hide the bodies, because the more obvious they are, the more popularity fazbear entertainment is going to lose. William took the night watch job, as he did not get the chance to see the results of his subsequent assassinations, his experiments turned out to be quite effective which led him to continue experimenting in his secret office.
EPILOGUE: After Jeremy's shift change and incident, a new security guard appears on orders from his father to manipulate the animatronics, Michael Afton.
FOLLOW ME BECAUSE NOBODY CARES ABOUT FNAF 1: A year has passed since the closure of Freddy's and William continues to experiment, he knows that animatronics can be possessed, but not how, so he goes to the now abandoned location of Freddy's to try different methods of experimentation in the endo skeletons of the animatronics. The first thing he tried was to melt the endo skeletons and inject them into the funtime animatronics, surprisingly this worked. On his fifth visit in search of more metal parts he found the souls of those children he murdered and we all know how that ended.
SISTER LOCATION: Of all the orders that his father had given him, this was the strangest "look for your sister on the ground floor of CBPW" but Michael did not question it twice and he listened to his father, he went to CBPW, he went to the elevator and there he was in some kind of secret bunker that he never knew about, blah blah blah as "baby" guided Michael towards the scooper, Ennard, this combination of funtime animatronics gets ready, michael arrives at the scooper, Ennard turns on the scooper and...
FNAF 3 AND 4: Michael wants to find his father now more than ever, William took his life and now Michael will take away everything that was important to him. A new Freddy's opened, but it wasn't a pizzeria, it was an attraction, a horror attraction. Michael heads to work there looking for his father and making him pay with his own life and business, and yes, he did find him, but not in the way Michael expected. What was once his father is now a rabbit? How low have you sunk William afton, Michael thinks in his mind. For every night he spent in that attraction hallucinations from his past come to life along with his nightmares, those monstrosities in the shape of Freddy's gang tormented him once again as in his childhood until he put an end to the attraction and to his father.
EPILOGUE: After the fire, fazbear entertainment auctioned off what was left of the ride, even with two people hoping to see and buy William afton he still ran away before the auction. These two people were Henry and Michael who met at the auction, thanks to the fact that the two share the same goal they put together a plan.
FFPS: Henry and Michael start their plan, while Henry informs the rest of the members of Fazbear entertainment to build a new pizzeria, Michael, with CBEAR technology and his technical skills, he creates small robots called RASC using technology of audios that his father had developed to attract the animatronics. Once the pizzeria is finished its construction, Michael attended as a guard to do the interviews with the animatronics and to finish this once and for all.
UCN: Michael and Henry's plan worked, William was dead and paying the consequences of his actions, being tortured by copies of his and Henry's creations, but, ironically, the one that was once massacred by William is now massacring William , Cassidy.
HELP WANTED: Fazbear entertainment was reduced from a corporate entity to an LLC entity. FE uses the little money they had left to make various VR games in an attempt to reverse Freddy's bad reputation, however, the circuit board of one of the endo skeletons they scanned infected the system and two people were possesed, Vanessa, the beta tester and Gregory, a boy who bought the game after Fazbear entertainment believed that the virus disappeared, but the virus is still intact.
In this part the TFTPPs occur that I am not going to explain because I am not here for that, Special Delivery would also go but it does not have much lore.
SECURITY BREACH: After the Storyteller infected the Pizzaplex and killed the CEO and Edwin Murrey, Fazbear entertainment removed the Storyteller from the Pizzaplex although the damage was done, with the arrival of Vanessa and the strange and unexplained presence of Gregory, evil dwelled below from the Pizzaplex with the intention of copying and imitating William Afton who had been dead for at least a year. END.
Here is a graphical version of the timeline: https://ibb.co/LRG2xDR
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2023.05.29 03:57 Warm_Evil_Beans I lost my Grammy.

My Grandma just passed away on the 17th of this month. She and my grandfather were married for 54 years. My Grammy was the most caring, loving person who saw everyone as an equal. She truly loved unconditionally, and this world is a better place for her being in it. When i was a kid, i lived with her. My grandparents raised me from 6-15 years old and i feel like i lost my mom. She used to take us places, make me breakfast every morning, bring me to the school bus, she taught me the love of baking, she was there at every school function. She was a nurse, did hospice, took care of people with disabilities and brought them into our home. She loved without judging, and always made sure everyone else was okay. She even gave snacks and gaterade to the people who did landscaping in their neighborhood.
My poor Grandpy is so sad, and all my dad wanted to do while we were organizing the funeral was dote on his fiance. He argued with my grandfather about changing his will, as if he had any right to do so. He made my grandfather drive him around so he could buy things for his finace, added things to the catering menu that he wasnt paying for. Meanwhile my grandmothers friend was being insensitive. She asked when my dad and grandfather went golfing if they were going with the couples- completely inappropriate. She tried to change the picture on the prayer card, who the f are you anyway.
But truly the worst part is that noone in my direct family except my aunt and my grandfather seemed sad about it at all. I was crying to hard at the funeral my dad thought i was cold. I didnt see him shed but a few tears. I was standing with my grandfather in the pew, and all of a sudden i felt warm. That was my grammy, always comforting.
I had a dream she called me, she told me she was sorry she left so soon but she was so proud of me and i was going to be okay. Im so heartbroken, i feel like not only i lost my Grammy who was like a mother, but my dad as well. He is insensitive, and too busy being codependent on his fiance to take Grandpys feelings into consideration.
submitted by Warm_Evil_Beans to venting [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 03:44 segaboy81 My aunt stole a laptop that I send to her granddaughter.

I'm not sure this is the best place to ask about this, but I'm hoping to get some sound advice here.
Last week, I was a pallbearer at my grandmother's funeral. I reconnected with my dad's side of the family and it was overall a very positive experience. Now, I'll try to provide only the context necessary to tell this story, as I don't see any worth getting in the weeds with family business...
My cousin is a dead-beat dad. He left when his daughter was an infant, and my aunt has been her caregiver ever since. She's a teenager now, and I'm very worried about her. She has no connection to the outside world - no modern devices... They are very poor, but that's partially due to all the money that's been spent on weed and cigarettes.
Basically, this poor girl has practically nothing.
After the funeral ended, her father asked if I could fix her laptop. It was a budget laptop from a few years ago, and it looked like it had shit on it... I agreed to take a look at it. I arrived at home around 4pm, and when I saw the unit didn't power on, I just decided to send her something else. I had a spare Microsoft Surface in the house that was like new. I factory reset the device, packed in some accessories, and shipped it off within the hour. It felt really good!
I sent my aunt a text message to let her know to expect a package, and then I made a big mistake. I told her there was something extra in the box. The package arrived the next day.
I expected to hear something... a thank you or something, but 4-5pm, because I knew she would be home from school. Nothing... I waited a few hours, wondering if I should reach out or not. I wasn't seeking validation, I was just genuinely worried that this laptop might be transformed into a bag of weed or a carton of cigarettes.
She replied "Sorry, we were both taking a nap and Bethany is in the shower". Then, less than a minute later, I get another text from her, seemingly pretending to be the intended recipient of the laptop... Remember, this teenage girl doesn't have a phone...
Now, this teenage girl we're talking about has secret social media accounts, and I knew of one of them. I know she checks those accounts when she's at friend's houses. I immediately sent her a message on one of those accounts, where I asked if she got her package. It wasn't until today that I got a response. "Nope."
That's all she said, and I tried responding but I was too late - she was already without access again...
I think, based on all this, my Aunt stole this device. Do I have enough? What can I do?
submitted by segaboy81 to legaladvice [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 03:37 rosariasbiggestfan my tierlist

my tierlist submitted by rosariasbiggestfan to thesmiths [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 03:26 Lemonloid He passed away at 22

TLDR: I just need to vent becuase I'm so heartbroken right now. I just want some support. My friend/ex died and before he died he told his other friend that he didn't ever love me.
My friend's celebration of life was a few hours ago and I can't stop crying. I loved him so much. We met eachother in kindergarten but weren't close until after high school. I grew up around him. He was just such an amazing, unique person but he really struggled with alcoholism. It was like I met the person of my dreams. When he was sober he was so charming, funny, intelligent, creative, passionate, energetic, and loving. We had such an intense connection and I've never had butterflies like that before. But I broke up with him only after a week of being official becuase he wasn't very reliable. He was blacking out, canceling plans to get drunk and then lying about how much he had been drinking. We took a break and then started being friends again and I would hear from him from time to time. I moved on to other relationships after that, but I still cared about him deeply as a friend. I just couldn't tolerate his alcoholism anymore as a girlfriend.
I had a dream about him saying goodbye, so I tried to reach out to him but I couldn't becuase all his accounts were deactivated. After that dream I would wake up comforted just to the thought of him and memories of him just kept popping up everywhere. there was one moment it genuinely felt like he was hugging me and resting his head on my shoulder. Until one night I get home from work and I start feeling an intense sense of grief and dread without reason. I could almost hear his name in my room, even though I live alone. So I google him and the first result is his obituary. It says his funeral happened just a few hours ago so I didn't make it. But I still went to the celebration of life. At the celebration of life one of his friends told me that they called him before he passed, and he was talking about me and how much he never loved me. That really broke my heart. I saw his mother too and she said he wouldn't stop talking about me in a good way and that he really loved me and cared. He just wasn't in his right mind to continue a relationship when he isn't sober. His best friends told me not to look too much into it becuase he wasn't well and before he got to that point in his alcoholism he really did care. I'm just so sad that he is gone and I just wanted him to care becuase I cared. I still care.
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2023.05.29 02:56 Livepdismyjam (SELLING) Tons of New titles.. Disney, 4K's, HD's.. Operation Fortune: Ruse De Guerre, 10 Cloverfield Lane, 3 From Hell, Dragonslayer, Hercules (Disney), Tangled, Lady and the Tramp, Lilo and Stich, and more...

Scroll over to see pricing

PayPal F&F, Cash App, Venmo, or Amazon GC ACCEPTED.
No Notes when sending funds!!!
Please assume split codes unless otherwise marked. Only redeem the portion of the code that you purchase.
Does NOT come with any sort of Disney Movie Insider Points, Sony Rewards, etc.
Title Format Vendor Price
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101 Dalmatians HD MA $4
13 Hours The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi HD Vudu $2
21 Jump Street SD MA $1
3 From Hell 4K Vudu or iTunes $4
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A Madea Christmas HD Vudu $0.50
A Quiet Place HD Vudu or iTunes $3
A Very Brady Sequel HD Vudu or iTunes $5
Adventures of TinTin SD Vudu $1
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Age of Ultron HD MA $3
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Ambulance 4K MA $6.50
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Another 48 Hours 4K Vudu or iTunes $6
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Dune (2021) 4K MA $5
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submitted by Livepdismyjam to DigitalCodeSELL [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 01:40 VoltasPistol Local funeral home seems to be a bit resentful of this "cremation fad"

Local funeral home seems to be a bit resentful of this submitted by VoltasPistol to TrollXFunny [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 01:28 Gogoguylo tier list. what do you guys think?

tier list. what do you guys think? submitted by Gogoguylo to thesmiths [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 01:15 Hamon4 AITA for being upset that my family scattered my grandmothers ashes without me

I (23f) unfortunately lost my grandmother 2 months ago. She had been unwell for around a year and the death was expected however she was young and active so still a shock. It is also worth noting that I am studying to be a doctor (set to graduate this year) so I was aware of my grandmothers prognosis earlier than the rest of my family.
I have been visiting my parents and family this week and staying with them as I live/study/work around 5 hours away. The decision was made to scatter my grandmothers ashes this morning. I honestly probably wouldn’t have made the journey for this alone but since I was already staying I was keen to be included with the rest of the family that wanted to join.
We had planned to meet at 11 this morning so I woke up at 9:30 to get ready. My mother and brother were both not home when I woke up which I thought was strange but I got dressed assuming they would be back to drive together as we had arranged.
I have since been told that the time everyone was meeting had changed form 11 to 10am but nobody had told me that the time had changed.
I’ve been avoiding my mum all day for not telling me that the time had changed and I’m devastated that I didn’t get to say goodbye for the last time. I understand that scattering ashes is probably not that big of a deal but due to my career choice I’ve been very stoic through everything including driving my cousins around for the funeral and wake as I was ‘the strong one’ and ‘used to death’. I suppose I was hoping that this more low-key goodbye might’ve been the chance I got to properly say goodbye without worrying about my emotions getting in the way for myself and others.
I know my mum has been understandably upset about losing her mum so it might’ve been a genuine mistake but AITA for being upset?
submitted by Hamon4 to AmItheAsshole [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 01:08 MyFuneralHomeStories Chapter Two: three drinks, Two dead & One Candy Bar

I was pouring drink number three when my phone rang… I'm 20 years old, a little drunk and in about an hour, I will have almost shot my colleague in the chest in front of three police officers and two frozen dead bodies. Weird. I can't say that I'm mentally ready for what I'm about to see this evening, who’s ever really ready to walk into a garage with a Chevy Cavalier riddled with bullets and two frozen gang bangers inside. My name is Grant and These are My Funeral Home Stories.
Chapter Two: three drinks, Two dead & One Candy Bar
It's about six o'clock on the 3rd Tuesday in February and factoring in the windchill, it's negative 14 degrees outside. I've been off of work for about an hour and I'm not on call tonight…So naturally, I'm just finishing up my second drink and considering whether to order pizza or Chinese tonight. I use my finger to stop by drink from bubbling over and the phone rings. It’s Andy, one of the directors from the funeral home that’s on call when Ned and I are off AND apparently the person he's on call with this evening is unreachable…If it's your job to be on call, you don't want this to happen. It's almost the equivalent of a no call no show at any other job. If you're on call, the only thing you have to do is wait for the phone to ring and when it does ring, you answer it. It’s really not that hard.
Andy is calling me to ask if I would fill in and go on a police call with him. There was a shooting and apparently there are two frozen dead bodies in a car… inside the police station. OK. Why are they at the police station? Great question. Apparently it was too cold outside to investigate and process the crime scene so they moved the crime scene into a heated garage inside a police station. This all sounds incredibly interesting to me but there's only one problem… I'm drunk. Well, on my way to drunk and I'm not old enough to drink. I'm not going anywhere near a police station. I explained to Andy that I'm in no condition to drive to the funeral home and he'd have to find someone else. He interrupted me and said, “ but you're not old enough to drink. Stay put. I'm picking you up. See you in 10.” He hung up the phone before I had time to argue.
Welp. Looks like I'm going to the police station against all better judgment. I finish my third drink as I put on my black 3 button double breasted black suit by Chaps that I picked up at Kohls. (Side note: all my other suits were at the dry cleaners. I hate this suit. It makes me look like a walking rectangle.) It's our funeral home’s policy that we dress cleanly and professionally while in public. This means you ruin a lot of good dress clothes but at least you look sharp… and you can write off your dry cleaning as a job related expense.
I run a razor over my face sans shaving cream because I’m in a hurry and our funeral home also has a strict no facial hair policy. No mustaches, no goatees and definitely no beards. I'm not sure why this is a rule, It just is. I take an extra long look at myself in the mirror to make sure I have myself in order. The last thing I want to do tonight is walk into a police station looking like a sloppy, drunk unshaven underage mess. Could I get fired for getting an underage drinking ticket while on a death call? I sure hope not. I hear a horn honking in the driveway. I peak out the front window, Andy’s out front in our 2004 black Pontiac minivan. It’s a pretty slick…Instead of back seats, our van has a polished oak floor with rollers spaced evenly down the length of the van. These rollers aid in sliding caskets in and out without scratching the van or caskets.
I’m almost ready. I decided to wear a heavy wool four button top coat, scarf and rubberized dress boots by Ecco, all black of course. (Side note: Always spend extra money on ‘nicer’ boots. You don't want your socks wet on death calls.) Although I hate the suit I have on, I am wearing my favorite necktie. It's white, black and navy blue diagonally striped made from handwoven silk by Ralph Lauren. Very sharp. Remember this tie… my favorite tie, it’ll come up again later. On my way out the door I stuffed a handful of garlic flavored chips in my mouth and pulled a Nestle Butterfinger candy bar out of the pantry. The garlic will help cover up the three Jack and Cokes I just had and put a little food in my stomach. The Butterfinger…well, that's my reward. I'll eat it on the way home. I fucking love Butterfingers and why not reward myself for what I'm about to do? I'm not even on call tonight. I deserve it.
From my house to the police station, it’s about 10 minutes… a straight shot with no traffic. Andy starts nervously giggling almost immediately when my door closes and buckle my seatbelt. Funeral Directors are generally interesting people but our pal, Andy, he's a real card. I'm going to tell you a few things about Andy and hopefully won't sound too judgmental in the process. Andy had a gastric bypass surgery three years ago and as has lost about 150 pounds andI don't think he's gone clothes shopping since his weight loss. All of his suits look like they're about five sizes too big. His skin is loose around his jawline giving him a permanent droopy dog expression. It's weird seeing someone whose clothes and skin don't fit their body. He's a nervous guy and he's always afraid of getting in trouble…but somehow he's blindly confident. That's it for the positives.
Andy talks the most deliberate and malicious shit about everyone in the office. It's pathological at this point, I'm not sure he's even aware of it. You really have to watch what you say around this guy… I mean, if you don't want it repeated or used against you, don't say it around Andy. Andy's jumped from funeral home to funeral home around the country settling in towns just long enough to fuck things up and make a quick exit. He’s was a total creep and we found out a few years later that he was stealing from one of our funeral homes. He had his moments but for the most part, I didn't want anything to do with this guy…Especially after drinking almost half of my $36 bottle of Gentleman Jack. Actually, I'm probably just drunk enough to enjoy his company.
We turn on to Roosevelt, the police station is on our right. Andy has managed to keep the van under control even with the several inches of black ice and snow covering the roads. Andy tells me that we're to call a number when we're outside the police station parking garage and an officer will open the giant chain gate to let us in. The car with the dead bodies is in a separate heated garage inside the building to thaw out for processing.
It just dawned on me, I'm kind of hammered and last time I checked I'm still not old enough to drink… I feel my anxiety levels rising…I’m not super eager to walk into a police station in my current condition. My plan is to keep my head down and stay as far out of the officers’ breath smelling distance as possible. I'm so happy I decided to eat those chips before I left. I can still taste the garlic. Garlic breath is better than booze breath. I'm fairly certain they won't lock me up for having bad breath.
Andy calls the number, the gate opens and we drive down a pretty drastic slope and enter the garage filled with a fleet of police cars. There must be 40 decked out Chevy Impalas polished up and ready for dispatch. We pull forward and an officer signals us to stop next to a plain gray door in the center of a the cinder block wall on our right. Andy loaded two stretchers in the van this evening. One standard, one oversized, we get out of the van and unload both without incident. The officer walks to the back of the van and tells us to follow him.
We walk through the gray door and quickly move through three different beige hallways, no windows, just ugly plain cinderblock. I realized that I've completely lost my bearings. When we come to the end of the hallway with another gray door. I feel a combination of claustrophobia and vertigo hit me all at once or maybe that was drink number three kickin’ in. The officer opens the door and Andy and I wheel our stretchers into a 20 by 20 garage lit by the brightest fluorescent lights I've ever experienced. The temperature of the light in this room is unnerving among other things.
'Welcome to the crime lab garage' I think to myself. Immediately upon entering the room, I'm almost knocked to the floor by a smell that burns my nasal cavities. It wasn't the smell of rotting flesh or piss and shit, I’ve smelled all those things before. This was new. It’s so unique but the more Im exposed to it the more I realize I’ve smelled this before at the funeral home but I can’t place it….Then it hits me almost as intensely as the smell itself. Ammonia, that's it! It smells like someone took two or three large bottles of ammonia and just poured them all over the room. I look at Andy as we park the stretchers. We make eye contact and I pointed my nose while simultaneously making a confused face. “What the fuck is that?” I whisper.
Andy pulls two pair of blue heavy duty surgical gloves out of the front pocket of his stretcher, hands me a pair and then proceeds to blow my mind. He quietly tells me that the strong ammonia odor is coming from the blood. Apparently when someone dies suddenly all the blood cells in the body make one last screaming effort to stay alive and dump a ton of waste into the bloodstream. The waste is what gives the blood a strong scent of ammonia. You know when someone says they can smell blood in a movie or TV show? I think If this is what they're talking about.
Now that I have my gloves on and have adjusted to the smell, I take off my overcoat and suit jacket and tuck my tie between two buttons on my white dress shirt. This is simply precautionary. There is nothing worse than dipping your tie into something gross. It's almost always UNcleanable.
In this moment, I'm able to take in my surroundings. Perhaps it's the alcohol but something feels off. Under rows and rows of fluorescent lights there’s a maroon Chevy Cavalier riddled with bullet holes with all four of its doors and trunk wide open. Upon initial inspection, my eyes are drawn to two dead men in the backseat and rusted hood with a smattering of bullet holes. It seems that most of the shots were through the windshield, windows and door panels.The windshield is barely able to hold itself up.
Andy and I walk around the car to figure out our plan of attack. He flips open a black vinyl body bag, unzips it and places it on the ground next to the car and he tells me his plan. “If they’re frozen in a seated position, we won't be able to move em that easily… So we'll wiggle them out, lay them on the body bags and zip up the disaster pouch around them.” This sounds good to me. We move in.
We decided to start with the body in the driver's side backseat. The door’s already open and the hinges appear to be hyper extended. The crime scene techs probably bent the hinges while they were scrubbing the scene. Now up close, I’m finally able to take in the two dead men sitting in the backseat in front of me. These guys must have been a couple years older than me, both wearing Timberlands, black jeans and black jackets… like big puffy down jackets. One man has a New Era baseball cap on backwards while the other has a black stocking cap atop his head. I didn't see any logos but the brain matter, bullet holes and blood may have made it hard to notice. The ammonia smell inside the car is completely overwhelming. Blood is literally covering everything in the backseat. Chunks of thawing brain and meat are all over the headrest. I pick up a piece near the seat belt and squeeze it with my middle finger and thumb. It's still a little frozen so it crunches a bit before turning into mush between my fingers. I wiped my hand on a clean part of the interior.
Bullet holes are weird…For something that can end your life so quickly, they don't leave much of a mark on their way in…BUT the way out is a totally different story. I have no idea how many times these men were shot but they’re covered and destroyed by bullet holes. Chin, hands, thighs under the eyeballs and everywhere else. There wasn’t a part of either of these men’s bodies that didn’t have at least one bullet hole… I didn't see their feet though…if I’m being completely transparent.
This is gore. This is a complete horror show. Someone wanted these men dead… like seriously dead. Was it the driver or could it have been the front seat passenger? There must have been someone sitting in the front seat, right? Why else would two grown men sit in the backseat together if there was an open front seat? By the number of holes, I come to the conclusion that at least two people had to have shot up this car….Far too many holes for one shooter and it was definitely people they thought they were close to…
With half my body in the car, the smell of ammonia is blending with the smell of shit…which is undoubtedly oozing from one or all of the many holes in these men's stomachs. Thankfully, the taste of the garlic chips and whiskey I had earlier keeping me from gagging. Both men looked like they were sleeping like someone's dad or brother in the backseat on a road trip but riddled with holes and covered and smelly blood and falling human chunks.
There's only enough room for one of us in the car’s backseat door opening so Andy gets in the driver's seat backwards and reaches back around the front seat to help shimmy the body out. I press the button and unbuckle the seatbelt, it whips back into its home position startling Andy and I. Everything in this car is covered with blood or some sort of human matter. My gloves are literally covered in blood from just unbuckling the seatbelt and now the taste of the ammonia smell is dripping its way into my mouth through my throat. The officers are having some sort of quiet discussion standing by the door we came in earlier. It's not uncommon for police officers to be completely apathetic about crime scenes when the funeral home arrives. The investigation is basically over tonight these officers couldn't care less about their scene. They just wanted to get these bodies moved out of the garage so they could get home to their families. I get that… but their lack of supervision is troubling, especially with what happens next.
I am now completely hunched over the body in the back passenger seat while Andy is supervising from the front turned around in the driver's seat with his gloved hands on the headrest. I tell Andy that I think I'm strong enough to grab this man’s right forearm and slide his body out on my own. When I grabbed the man's forearm, I immediately feel something isn't right. I've grabbed lots of dead people's forearms before. None felt like this though. It was so hard and rigid….don’t get me wrong I understand this man is frozen BUT whatever I'm grabbing on to isn't human. It's something else. It's hard and feels like metal one of those cheap metal canes you'd buy at a drugstore. The three drinks circulating through my bloodstream make me curious but pensive. I tell Andy that I'm not touching a man's arm and that there's something else in this man’s jacket.
I interrupted the police officers conversation. “Hey, something isn't right here.” An officer and I switch places as he pulls out a tactical knife and starts cutting away the sleeve to the blood soaked down jacket. “It’s a FUCKING GUN.” I look over his shoulder and see the open sleeve of a jacket revealing a sawed off shotgun. The inside of the coat was some sort of bright orange material so the short barrel of the shotgun stand out…and so did the trigger but not because of its color. It stood out because of frozen dead man’s finger hooked over and frozen around it. Did I mention the gun was cocked. This means that the slightest movement would have caused a sudden discharge… The gun would have fired directly into the driver's seat, the seat where Andy was supervising from AND apparently Andy and I noticed this at the same time.
The next sound we hear was an officer saying, “Gun! Loaded gun!”
Andy and I step back while the officers deal with the gun… he's freaked out…I can tell by the blotchy greenish yellow color he skin has turned in the last 30 seconds. Andy says, “I don't like guns. I don't like guns.”
“It's cool, man. Nobody got shot.” I say not being too sympathetic. I'm definitely drunk now and the idea of a frozen dead man shooting my partner in the chest is kind of hilarious, even if it would have been my fault. I giggle internally. Andy quickly moves towards the door and says, “I need to get some fresh air” and scurries out like an asshole letting the door slam behind him. Almost at the same moment the door closed. The three officers approached me from behind, “We got it out….It was loaded. Your buddy's lucky you didn’t shoot him in the chest.” I just snicker and tell the officers my partner needed some air and that I'll make the removals myself. How hard could it be? I'll just grab and pull.
Frozen bodies move in one piece while regular room temperature bodies are just floppy deadweight. These fellas are frozen solid…they felt like moving a heavy chair or peculiar shaped table out of your friend's car. Square peg in round holes, it was actually considerably easier than I anticipated.
The sound of the two bodies hitting a cold cement after pulling them out was very satisfying…a simple loud hollow frozen thud. I'm surrounded by awfulness and all I can think about is how proud I am that I just handled this crime scene on my own. I can't wait to eat that Butterfinger waiting for me in the car. It's a fitting reward but also something to get rid of this ammonia and garlic taste overpowering my senses at the moment.
Andy still hasn't come back and we're about to zip up the last body bag. An officer had put on a pair of gloves to help me maneuver the second man's rigid bent knees into the body bag. This man's body was like a complicated Tetris piece. Once in, we each grab a zipper on either side of the black vinyl bag and zip our respective ends until they meet in the middle. I nod my head at the officer and say, “That's how it's done!”
The officer looks at me sternly and says, “Did you just come from a party?” I look at him confused and respond, ”What?”
The officer tells me that he just got a waft of alcohol. “It reeks like booze over here.” I closed my mouth quickly and my heart begins to beat out of my chest. I must smell like a distillery… so much for those garlic chips. Laughing, I say, “On a Tuesday? Come on, man!” The officer stands up and says, “Let's run a tox screen on these guys to find out how fucked up they were before getting blasted.”
Looks like a dodged a bullet. How did he smell my whiskey breath over the ammonia smell? Does my breath just smell like straight rubbing alcohol? I feel bad that these dead guys got blamed for MY alcohol breath but, at least, I won't be walking out of here with an underage drinking ticket.
Calming down and feeling relieved. I looked down on my shirt and see that my necktie, my very favorite Ralph Lauren necktie, had fallen out of my shirt at some point and had been dipped into some smelly smelly blood. Fuck! Of course I ruined my favorite necktie on a night I'm not even supposed to be working. I undo the knot and throw the tie into a biohazard bag. The rest of the removal was kind of a blur because I was laser focused thinking about that Butterfinger I left in the car. The alcohol plus all the blood smell I kind of made my stomach sour. My mouth starts to water thinking about that candy bar.
One of the officers helps me wheel the stretchers out to the van in the main area of the police station parking garage. I can see exhaust coming out of our van. It's on? Did we leave the van running? I open the back of the van to find Andy laying down in the center of the wooden roller board taking up the entire back of the van. The sound startles him and he quickly jumps up to a seated position and says, “I'm sorry man, guns really freak me out. I almost got shot…. I thought I was gonna pass out.”
I notice a yellow rapper sitting next to his right leg. He noticed that I noticed. “Oh yeah, I owe you a candy bar.” He says in a nonchalant manner.
All at once, my dislike for Andy hit me like a tidal wave. I ruined my favorite tie and this asshole ate my candy bar? Andy, sensing my disappointment and anger, didn't say another word and I imagine what it would have been like if that shot gun would have gone off.
My name is Grant and these are My Funeral Home Stories.
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2023.05.29 01:04 MyFuneralHomeStories Chapter Two: 3 drinks, 2 dead & 1 Candy Bar

I was pouring drink number three when my phone rang… I'm 20 years old, a little drunk and in about an hour, I will have almost shot my colleague in the chest in front of three police officers and two frozen dead bodies. Weird. I can't say that I'm mentally ready for what I'm about to see this evening, who’s ever really ready to walk into a garage with a Chevy Cavalier riddled with bullets and two frozen gang bangers inside. My name is Grant and These are My Funeral Home Stories.
Chapter Two: three drinks, Two dead & One Candy Bar
It's about six o'clock on the 3rd Tuesday in February and factoring in the windchill, it's negative 14 degrees outside. I've been off of work for about an hour and I'm not on call tonight…So naturally, I'm just finishing up my second drink and considering whether to order pizza or Chinese tonight. I use my finger to stop by drink from bubbling over and the phone rings. It’s Andy, one of the directors from the funeral home that’s on call when Ned and I are off AND apparently the person he's on call with this evening is unreachable…If it's your job to be on call, you don't want this to happen. It's almost the equivalent of a no call no show at any other job. If you're on call, the only thing you have to do is wait for the phone to ring and when it does ring, you answer it. It’s really not that hard.
Andy is calling me to ask if I would fill in and go on a police call with him. There was a shooting and apparently there are two frozen dead bodies in a car… inside the police station. OK. Why are they at the police station? Great question. Apparently it was too cold outside to investigate and process the crime scene so they moved the crime scene into a heated garage inside a police station. This all sounds incredibly interesting to me but there's only one problem… I'm drunk. Well, on my way to drunk and I'm not old enough to drink. I'm not going anywhere near a police station. I explained to Andy that I'm in no condition to drive to the funeral home and he'd have to find someone else. He interrupted me and said, “ but you're not old enough to drink. Stay put. I'm picking you up. See you in 10.” He hung up the phone before I had time to argue.
Welp. Looks like I'm going to the police station against all better judgment. I finish my third drink as I put on my black 3 button double breasted black suit by Chaps that I picked up at Kohls. (Side note: all my other suits were at the dry cleaners. I hate this suit. It makes me look like a walking rectangle.) It's our funeral home’s policy that we dress cleanly and professionally while in public. This means you ruin a lot of good dress clothes but at least you look sharp… and you can write off your dry cleaning as a job related expense.
I run a razor over my face sans shaving cream because I’m in a hurry and our funeral home also has a strict no facial hair policy. No mustaches, no goatees and definitely no beards. I'm not sure why this is a rule, It just is. I take an extra long look at myself in the mirror to make sure I have myself in order. The last thing I want to do tonight is walk into a police station looking like a sloppy, drunk unshaven underage mess. Could I get fired for getting an underage drinking ticket while on a death call? I sure hope not. I hear a horn honking in the driveway. I peak out the front window, Andy’s out front in our 2004 black Pontiac minivan. It’s a pretty slick…Instead of back seats, our van has a polished oak floor with rollers spaced evenly down the length of the van. These rollers aid in sliding caskets in and out without scratching the van or caskets.
I’m almost ready. I decided to wear a heavy wool four button top coat, scarf and rubberized dress boots by Ecco, all black of course. (Side note: Always spend extra money on ‘nicer’ boots. You don't want your socks wet on death calls.) Although I hate the suit I have on, I am wearing my favorite necktie. It's white, black and navy blue diagonally striped made from handwoven silk by Ralph Lauren. Very sharp. Remember this tie… my favorite tie, it’ll come up again later. On my way out the door I stuffed a handful of garlic flavored chips in my mouth and pulled a Nestle Butterfinger candy bar out of the pantry. The garlic will help cover up the three Jack and Cokes I just had and put a little food in my stomach. The Butterfinger…well, that's my reward. I'll eat it on the way home. I fucking love Butterfingers and why not reward myself for what I'm about to do? I'm not even on call tonight. I deserve it.
From my house to the police station, it’s about 10 minutes… a straight shot with no traffic. Andy starts nervously giggling almost immediately when my door closes and buckle my seatbelt. Funeral Directors are generally interesting people but our pal, Andy, he's a real card. I'm going to tell you a few things about Andy and hopefully won't sound too judgmental in the process. Andy had a gastric bypass surgery three years ago and as has lost about 150 pounds andI don't think he's gone clothes shopping since his weight loss. All of his suits look like they're about five sizes too big. His skin is loose around his jawline giving him a permanent droopy dog expression. It's weird seeing someone whose clothes and skin don't fit their body. He's a nervous guy and he's always afraid of getting in trouble…but somehow he's blindly confident. That's it for the positives.
Andy talks the most deliberate and malicious shit about everyone in the office. It's pathological at this point, I'm not sure he's even aware of it. You really have to watch what you say around this guy… I mean, if you don't want it repeated or used against you, don't say it around Andy. Andy's jumped from funeral home to funeral home around the country settling in towns just long enough to fuck things up and make a quick exit. He’s was a total creep and we found out a few years later that he was stealing from one of our funeral homes. He had his moments but for the most part, I didn't want anything to do with this guy…Especially after drinking almost half of my $36 bottle of Gentleman Jack. Actually, I'm probably just drunk enough to enjoy his company.
We turn on to Roosevelt, the police station is on our right. Andy has managed to keep the van under control even with the several inches of black ice and snow covering the roads. Andy tells me that we're to call a number when we're outside the police station parking garage and an officer will open the giant chain gate to let us in. The car with the dead bodies is in a separate heated garage inside the building to thaw out for processing.
It just dawned on me, I'm kind of hammered and last time I checked I'm still not old enough to drink… I feel my anxiety levels rising…I’m not super eager to walk into a police station in my current condition. My plan is to keep my head down and stay as far out of the officers’ breath smelling distance as possible. I'm so happy I decided to eat those chips before I left. I can still taste the garlic. Garlic breath is better than booze breath. I'm fairly certain they won't lock me up for having bad breath.
Andy calls the number, the gate opens and we drive down a pretty drastic slope and enter the garage filled with a fleet of police cars. There must be 40 decked out Chevy Impalas polished up and ready for dispatch. We pull forward and an officer signals us to stop next to a plain gray door in the center of a the cinder block wall on our right. Andy loaded two stretchers in the van this evening. One standard, one oversized, we get out of the van and unload both without incident. The officer walks to the back of the van and tells us to follow him.
We walk through the gray door and quickly move through three different beige hallways, no windows, just ugly plain cinderblock. I realized that I've completely lost my bearings. When we come to the end of the hallway with another gray door. I feel a combination of claustrophobia and vertigo hit me all at once or maybe that was drink number three kickin’ in. The officer opens the door and Andy and I wheel our stretchers into a 20 by 20 garage lit by the brightest fluorescent lights I've ever experienced. The temperature of the light in this room is unnerving among other things.
'Welcome to the crime lab garage' I think to myself. Immediately upon entering the room, I'm almost knocked to the floor by a smell that burns my nasal cavities. It wasn't the smell of rotting flesh or piss and shit, I’ve smelled all those things before. This was new. It’s so unique but the more Im exposed to it the more I realize I’ve smelled this before at the funeral home but I can’t place it….Then it hits me almost as intensely as the smell itself. Ammonia, that's it! It smells like someone took two or three large bottles of ammonia and just poured them all over the room. I look at Andy as we park the stretchers. We make eye contact and I pointed my nose while simultaneously making a confused face. “What the fuck is that?” I whisper.
Andy pulls two pair of blue heavy duty surgical gloves out of the front pocket of his stretcher, hands me a pair and then proceeds to blow my mind. He quietly tells me that the strong ammonia odor is coming from the blood. Apparently when someone dies suddenly all the blood cells in the body make one last screaming effort to stay alive and dump a ton of waste into the bloodstream. The waste is what gives the blood a strong scent of ammonia. You know when someone says they can smell blood in a movie or TV show? I think If this is what they're talking about.
Now that I have my gloves on and have adjusted to the smell, I take off my overcoat and suit jacket and tuck my tie between two buttons on my white dress shirt. This is simply precautionary. There is nothing worse than dipping your tie into something gross. It's almost always UNcleanable.
In this moment, I'm able to take in my surroundings. Perhaps it's the alcohol but something feels off. Under rows and rows of fluorescent lights there’s a maroon Chevy Cavalier riddled with bullet holes with all four of its doors and trunk wide open. Upon initial inspection, my eyes are drawn to two dead men in the backseat and rusted hood with a smattering of bullet holes. It seems that most of the shots were through the windshield, windows and door panels.The windshield is barely able to hold itself up.
Andy and I walk around the car to figure out our plan of attack. He flips open a black vinyl body bag, unzips it and places it on the ground next to the car and he tells me his plan. “If they’re frozen in a seated position, we won't be able to move em that easily… So we'll wiggle them out, lay them on the body bags and zip up the disaster pouch around them.” This sounds good to me. We move in.
We decided to start with the body in the driver's side backseat. The door’s already open and the hinges appear to be hyper extended. The crime scene techs probably bent the hinges while they were scrubbing the scene. Now up close, I’m finally able to take in the two dead men sitting in the backseat in front of me. These guys must have been a couple years older than me, both wearing Timberlands, black jeans and black jackets… like big puffy down jackets. One man has a New Era baseball cap on backwards while the other has a black stocking cap atop his head. I didn't see any logos but the brain matter, bullet holes and blood may have made it hard to notice. The ammonia smell inside the car is completely overwhelming. Blood is literally covering everything in the backseat. Chunks of thawing brain and meat are all over the headrest. I pick up a piece near the seat belt and squeeze it with my middle finger and thumb. It's still a little frozen so it crunches a bit before turning into mush between my fingers. I wiped my hand on a clean part of the interior.
Bullet holes are weird…For something that can end your life so quickly, they don't leave much of a mark on their way in…BUT the way out is a totally different story. I have no idea how many times these men were shot but they’re covered and destroyed by bullet holes. Chin, hands, thighs under the eyeballs and everywhere else. There wasn’t a part of either of these men’s bodies that didn’t have at least one bullet hole… I didn't see their feet though…if I’m being completely transparent.
This is gore. This is a complete horror show. Someone wanted these men dead… like seriously dead. Was it the driver or could it have been the front seat passenger? There must have been someone sitting in the front seat, right? Why else would two grown men sit in the backseat together if there was an open front seat? By the number of holes, I come to the conclusion that at least two people had to have shot up this car….Far too many holes for one shooter and it was definitely people they thought they were close to…
With half my body in the car, the smell of ammonia is blending with the smell of shit…which is undoubtedly oozing from one or all of the many holes in these men's stomachs. Thankfully, the taste of the garlic chips and whiskey I had earlier keeping me from gagging. Both men looked like they were sleeping like someone's dad or brother in the backseat on a road trip but riddled with holes and covered and smelly blood and falling human chunks.
There's only enough room for one of us in the car’s backseat door opening so Andy gets in the driver's seat backwards and reaches back around the front seat to help shimmy the body out. I press the button and unbuckle the seatbelt, it whips back into its home position startling Andy and I. Everything in this car is covered with blood or some sort of human matter. My gloves are literally covered in blood from just unbuckling the seatbelt and now the taste of the ammonia smell is dripping its way into my mouth through my throat. The officers are having some sort of quiet discussion standing by the door we came in earlier. It's not uncommon for police officers to be completely apathetic about crime scenes when the funeral home arrives. The investigation is basically over tonight these officers couldn't care less about their scene. They just wanted to get these bodies moved out of the garage so they could get home to their families. I get that… but their lack of supervision is troubling, especially with what happens next.
I am now completely hunched over the body in the back passenger seat while Andy is supervising from the front turned around in the driver's seat with his gloved hands on the headrest. I tell Andy that I think I'm strong enough to grab this man’s right forearm and slide his body out on my own. When I grabbed the man's forearm, I immediately feel something isn't right. I've grabbed lots of dead people's forearms before. None felt like this though. It was so hard and rigid….don’t get me wrong I understand this man is frozen BUT whatever I'm grabbing on to isn't human. It's something else. It's hard and feels like metal one of those cheap metal canes you'd buy at a drugstore. The three drinks circulating through my bloodstream make me curious but pensive. I tell Andy that I'm not touching a man's arm and that there's something else in this man’s jacket.
I interrupted the police officers conversation. “Hey, something isn't right here.” An officer and I switch places as he pulls out a tactical knife and starts cutting away the sleeve to the blood soaked down jacket. “It’s a FUCKING GUN.” I look over his shoulder and see the open sleeve of a jacket revealing a sawed off shotgun. The inside of the coat was some sort of bright orange material so the short barrel of the shotgun stand out…and so did the trigger but not because of its color. It stood out because of frozen dead man’s finger hooked over and frozen around it. Did I mention the gun was cocked. This means that the slightest movement would have caused a sudden discharge… The gun would have fired directly into the driver's seat, the seat where Andy was supervising from AND apparently Andy and I noticed this at the same time.
The next sound we hear was an officer saying, “Gun! Loaded gun!”
Andy and I step back while the officers deal with the gun… he's freaked out…I can tell by the blotchy greenish yellow color he skin has turned in the last 30 seconds. Andy says, “I don't like guns. I don't like guns.”
“It's cool, man. Nobody got shot.” I say not being too sympathetic. I'm definitely drunk now and the idea of a frozen dead man shooting my partner in the chest is kind of hilarious, even if it would have been my fault. I giggle internally. Andy quickly moves towards the door and says, “I need to get some fresh air” and scurries out like an asshole letting the door slam behind him. Almost at the same moment the door closed. The three officers approached me from behind, “We got it out….It was loaded. Your buddy's lucky you didn’t shoot him in the chest.” I just snicker and tell the officers my partner needed some air and that I'll make the removals myself. How hard could it be? I'll just grab and pull.
Frozen bodies move in one piece while regular room temperature bodies are just floppy deadweight. These fellas are frozen solid…they felt like moving a heavy chair or peculiar shaped table out of your friend's car. Square peg in round holes, it was actually considerably easier than I anticipated.
The sound of the two bodies hitting a cold cement after pulling them out was very satisfying…a simple loud hollow frozen thud. I'm surrounded by awfulness and all I can think about is how proud I am that I just handled this crime scene on my own. I can't wait to eat that Butterfinger waiting for me in the car. It's a fitting reward but also something to get rid of this ammonia and garlic taste overpowering my senses at the moment.
Andy still hasn't come back and we're about to zip up the last body bag. An officer had put on a pair of gloves to help me maneuver the second man's rigid bent knees into the body bag. This man's body was like a complicated Tetris piece. Once in, we each grab a zipper on either side of the black vinyl bag and zip our respective ends until they meet in the middle. I nod my head at the officer and say, “That's how it's done!”
The officer looks at me sternly and says, “Did you just come from a party?” I look at him confused and respond, ”What?”
The officer tells me that he just got a waft of alcohol. “It reeks like booze over here.” I closed my mouth quickly and my heart begins to beat out of my chest. I must smell like a distillery… so much for those garlic chips. Laughing, I say, “On a Tuesday? Come on, man!” The officer stands up and says, “Let's run a tox screen on these guys to find out how fucked up they were before getting blasted.”
Looks like a dodged a bullet. How did he smell my whiskey breath over the ammonia smell? Does my breath just smell like straight rubbing alcohol? I feel bad that these dead guys got blamed for MY alcohol breath but, at least, I won't be walking out of here with an underage drinking ticket.
Calming down and feeling relieved. I looked down on my shirt and see that my necktie, my very favorite Ralph Lauren necktie, had fallen out of my shirt at some point and had been dipped into some smelly smelly blood. Fuck! Of course I ruined my favorite necktie on a night I'm not even supposed to be working. I undo the knot and throw the tie into a biohazard bag. The rest of the removal was kind of a blur because I was laser focused thinking about that Butterfinger I left in the car. The alcohol plus all the blood smell I kind of made my stomach sour. My mouth starts to water thinking about that candy bar.
One of the officers helps me wheel the stretchers out to the van in the main area of the police station parking garage. I can see exhaust coming out of our van. It's on? Did we leave the van running? I open the back of the van to find Andy laying down in the center of the wooden roller board taking up the entire back of the van. The sound startles him and he quickly jumps up to a seated position and says, “I'm sorry man, guns really freak me out. I almost got shot…. I thought I was gonna pass out.”
I notice a yellow rapper sitting next to his right leg. He noticed that I noticed. “Oh yeah, I owe you a candy bar.” He says in a nonchalant manner.
All at once, my dislike for Andy hit me like a tidal wave. I ruined my favorite tie and this asshole ate my candy bar? Andy, sensing my disappointment and anger, didn't say another word and I imagine what it would have been like if that shot gun would have gone off.
My name is Grant and these are My Funeral Home Stories.

Here this episode wherever you listen to podcasts:
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2023.05.29 01:03 subject-2- test

“Last time on Total Drama Revenge of the Island! The campers did a fun game of Truth-or-Laser-Shark, which they revolted against, so we instead did a Harold-McGrady-brand-patented obstacle course! Lightning got the boot in the Catapult of Shame (Trademark Pending) because the bird is no longer with us. Or, so it seems. We also cut the Chris Mclean campfire due to budget constraints. Truly tragic, I know. What’ll happen in this episode? What embarrassing comment will Sam make this time? Find out right now on Total Drama Revenge of the Island!”
The Mutant Maggots were sleeping soundly in the luxurious spa hotel. Zoey, in particular, was loving the lavish lifestyle. Her family wasn’t the richest. The whole reason she joined to show was to make some money, to help her father out. It’d been a hard-knock life (Pun very much intended, Zoey loved that film) for her and her father ever since her mother had died. She was determined to bring the money home, no matter what. She’d also joined the show to (hopefully) make some friends. A lonely girl, she was. (Wow, she really was just stocked to the brim with references today.) But it was true! She’d make a friend in this a sweer body on her team, Mike. Nothing out of the ordinary…. Besides the fact that he was her DREAM GUY!! Nice, cute, and got her references! Just thinking about him made her swoon. She shrugged it off and got out of her bed. She did not want to leave, but she had to. After all, it was her tradition to wake up extra early in the mornings and take a walk around her neighborhood. Or, in this case, the island. She slowly inched out of bed, taking account of the sleeping Anne-Maria. She quickly got dressed and brushed her teeth, opening the door. The cool September air hit her, and she shivered. But she loved it. Everything about the island was so peaceful. The waves crashed against the beach. The birds squawked in the distance. She took in a deep breath. It was truly amazing. She started to walk around the island, soaking in the sunlight. Suddenly, she heard the creaking of a door. She turned around. It was Jo.
“Hey, Zoey,” she said, speeding up as she went.
Zoey realized she had the perfect opportunity to make a new friend!
“No, wait! I was wondering if-um, if- you’d like to go on a walk with me?”
(…she Nailed It.)
Jo looked at her, slightly confused. “Uh… Sure?”
Jo wasn’t used to anyone wanting to actually be next to her. Willingly. You couldn’t have waterboarded this information out of her, but the true reason she joined Total Drama was very different from the persona she displayed. Of course, she wanted the Million. Who didn’t? But she also wanted a friend. Someone real! Someone who wouldn’t be scared of her. She was quickly snapped out of her daydreams. Zoey was asking her something.
“Uh, so… Why’d you join Total Drama?” She asked. The early morning sunlight hit her face perfectly.
“Well, for the money! Why else would I join?” She lied.
“Well, I joined to make friends,” said Zoey.
Jo took a mental note of that. I guess she wasn’t the only lonely girl on the island.
“Do you have any siblings?” Zoey asked.
“Yeah. I Have 4 older brothers. But if you came by my house, it certainly wouldn’t seem like it!” Jo laughed. Her laugh was burly and loud. But it was also infectious and full of joy. Zoey smiled and started laughing too. Soon, all that could be heard was the joyous harmony of the two girl's laughter.
Staci was having a much worse time. It was 9:30 when she woke up. She had about 10 minutes to spare before that challenge began. All she could think about was how much she utterly hated herself. She would never dare to admit it, though. She constantly hid behind her thick layer of lies. She wished that she could just stop. But no matter how many times she’d say that she’d stop, it never came. She never stopped lying. Everyone in her life hated her, and she knew it. She was surprised that she wasn’t the first boot, for crying out loud. She slowly climbed out of the crappy bed and walked to the main lodge. She walked in, hunched over. She felt invisible.
“Hey! Come sit with us!”
…Was that to her?
She turned over to find Dawn and B, her fellow teammates, calling to her. Dawn was smiling at her.
That’s new, she thought.
She gingerly took a seat next to the two. The bigger one, whose name was B, wrote something down on his notepad.
Hello! You looked lonely, so I asked Dawn to invite you to our table! Don’t worry, we don’t bite.
Staci still couldn’t process this. Nobody had ever willingly let her sit with them.
“…Thank you.”
B wrote something on his notepad.
You seem a bit tense. You alright?
“Yeah. I was just thinking. You know, my great, great-”
But Staci stopped halfway.
“You know, this dude named William Holley invented that notepad! He invented the pad around when he innovated the idea to collect all the paper scraps from various factories.”
She had done it. She hadn’t lied, for once in her life! She had finally done it!
But before Staci could celebrate, Chris threw open the door, carrying a boombox. He strutted into the lodge, then planted his feet in the center of the room and started to do that one Fortnite dance we all collectively forgot about.
“Please stop,” said Dakota. She was comforting a crying Sam, who was devastated that anyone was still doing that dance.
After a grueling thirty seconds, he finally stopped doing the awful dance.
“Ok, ok, I'll stop! Anyways, today’s challenge is called Wawanakwa Musical! Teams must perform a skit. Everyone must have a speaking part, and it must have a corny message about something found in a typical High School Disney Channel movie. The team with the best number gets to pair up people to go to prom, while the other team gets it randomly. The couples need to face off in prom-themed challenges, such as drinking all the punch, dancing off, and something else I wouldn't want to spoil for you all. The campers who win the most challenges and make the best skit will win!"
“I don't even want to know what that last challenge will be," said Mike.
"Don't worry, nothing too dangerous!" Chris replied. Some of the campers exchanged worried glances.
“Oh, a skit! How exciting!” Chirped Ella, the secret 7th member of the Mutant Maggots. She was surrounded by animals, per the norm.
“Can you please get your stupid animal friends out of my face!?” Shouted Scott, who had become a resting place for the birds, having several perched on his head.
“Little ones, farewell! You must depart, at least for now,” she said, the heartbreak break in her voice crystal clear.
Confessional- Brick.
“Is it just me, or was that girl not here before? But I’m not complaining! Another member of our troop is just what we need!” Brick blushed.
End Confessional.
“I can already tell this one has a wonderful soul! Her aura is exceptionally bright pink, and it suits her wonderfully. As to how she teleported here? Beats me."
End Confessional.
We cut to all the campers outside the main lodge. The Mutant Maggots were doing a group huddle to brainstorm ideas.
“Ok. Mags. Let’s organize a game plan! We’ve got this in the bag if we work hard and persevere!” Said Brick.
“Never call us “Mags” again,” snarked Jo.
“I like that attitude, Brick! I think our message should be about spreading kindness and not bullying!” Chirped Ella.
“I, um, thank you,” fumbled Brick, who was not used to someone complimenting him for a change.
“We need to cast everyone as a part. First off, we’ll need a bully character. Any volunteers?”
Most eyes went to Mike, the self-proclaimed Actor. He started to sweat but soon realized his team needed him. He sighed and took off his shirt. He instantly switched to Vito, one of Mike’s many alters.
“Ayo, what seems to be the issue?” said Vito. Anne-Maria was enamored instantly.
Confessional- Zoey.
“Mike sure does take his acting seriously. Must be a method actor. Not going to lie, it’s a bit weird. But I like weird!”
End Confessional.
“Who knew you had such a bod under that shirt?” Swooned Anne-Maria. She jumped on Vito, who didn’t mind.
“Ok Mike, we get it, you’re a good actor. Are you doing this or not?” screamed an irritated Jo.
“Yeah. sure, whatever,” said a completely uninterested Vito.
“We’ll also need a victim and five other roles. Any ideas?” asked Brick.
“How about we have one bystander and three people who spread the anti-bully message?” Ella suggested.
“Fine with me,” said Brick.
“Anyone want a particular role?” Ella asked.
“I want to be one of the spreaders,” said Jo, which was a surprise of most.
“Ok! Me and Brick can be the other two, Anne-Maria can be the victim, and Zoey can be the bystander. I have an idea for the plot- Mike bullies Anne-Maria, and Zoey doesn’t do anything. Then we come in and tell them to be kind, and then it works, and we live happily ever after!” said Ella.
“Ok, why don’t we run through it?” Suggested Jo.
“Ayo, what am I doing again?” Vito asked.
“Ugh, cut the crap and start acting!” Screamed an irritated Jo.
“Yeesh, it’s cold in here. I’m putting my shirt back on,” pretended Vito, aware that Mike probably needed to switch in. Mike was at first quite confused, but quickly realized what had happened.
We cut to a montage of the Maggots working very hard at refining the script. Lines were changed, parts swapped, and then swapped back again, but in the end, they’d created the perfect skit- the ultimate work of their labor.
However, on the other side of the auditorium were the Toxic Rats, who had fewer hurdles.
B wrote something down on his notepad.
Just make it about how great Chris is and we’re sure to win.
“Sounds like a plan to me!” Said Scott, giving the silent giant a fist-bump.
“Yeah. We can improvise it as we go! We don’t even need a script!” Dakota said.
“Wait, what are we doing?” Asked Staci, who was once again out of the loop.
Soon, Chris, Chef, and some intern sat at a table, waiting for the skits to be presented. They were at the auditorium, where the Talent Contest challenge had been done a few years back.
“Ok, maggots! Wow me!”
Chris leaned back as Mike and Anne-Maria walked out on stage.
“Hey nerd, give me your lunch money!” Said Mike, utterly failing at sounding intimidating.
“Oh no! Whatever will I do??” Said Anne-Maria, who was wearing one of Cameron’s glasses he’d left behind as a pitiful attempt for a nerd costume.
Zoey then walked out. “Oh no! I want to do something, but I’m scared!”
Jo, Ella, and Brick then walked out.
“Hey! Bullying is bad!” Shouted Ella.
“You need to stand up for yourself!” Screamed Brick at Anne-Maria.
“You need to stop being a bully!” Screamed Jo, who was significantly louder than the rest.
“And you need to learn not to be silent! If you see something, say something!” Ella finished.
“Wow! Thank you! I will always stand up for the victim next time I see someone being bullied!” said Zoey.
“And I will be kind!” said Mike.
“You better!” Shouted Jo. “Now get got and leave this poor girl alone!” Jo shoved Mike much harder than she had anticipated.
He fell off the stage, landing right on his head. The others winced at his misfortune.
“…So be kind!” Finished Ella, who then quickly scampered down to check on Mike.
Mike faded in and out of consciousness. But he knew one thing- this was not a good sign. Mike had a 6th Alter. A particularly malevolent one, should I say… His name was… Mal.
Mike stood up, sporting fresh bags under his eyes. Well, the lone eye you could see, as the other was covered by hair. He stood up and grabbed Jo by the collar.
“Don’t touch me,” he said in an even tone.
Jo was hardly threatened by Mike grabbing her, considering she was twice his size. He had no strength. But when he spoke, it was different. Something about the way he spoke scared her. His even but still threatening voice. His unwavering face of pure anger. She backed away.
“Sorry.”
Confessional- Jo.
“I don’t know what came over me. He’s so non-threatening in the physical department, but the way he talks?” Jo looked at the camera. “Someone give that twig actor of the year!”
End Confessional.
We cut to Chris, Chef, and the intern. They all sat with mostly stunned and confused faces. They got into a group huddle before Chris finally spoke.
“…Okay, that was weird. But it was also pretty good, and you did everything right. We’ll give you… a 7/10.”
The maggots cheered loudly. Even though it wasn’t a nine or a ten, they were simply glad Chris gave them a satisfactory score, especially for how much work had been put into the project. Mal took in a deep breath and switched back into Mike.
“…What did I miss?” He asked. Nobody said anything, simply glaring at him.
Confessional- Mike.
“Ok, I’m pretty sure I switched into Mal which is definitely not a good thing.” He buried his face in his hands. “They probably all hate me now…”
End Confessional.
Confessional- Zoey.
“Ok, so about what Mike did back there? So weird! I know Jo shoved him, but that just felt way out of line. Or maybe I’m overthinking it. Is this normal? Am I the weird one??”
End Confessional.
“Ok, you can sit on the bleachers now. Rats, you’re up!”
All of the rats came out at once.
“Man, I really love Chris!” Said Scott.
“Yeah, he’s so cool, and handsome to boot!” Swooned Dakota.
“Chris… Is an interesting guy!” Forced out Dawn, who genuinely could not think of anything good to say about the host.
“I don’t think Chris is all that cool,” said Staci, who hadn’t caught on yet. Scott quickly shoved her to the ground.
“How could someone not like Chris??” Scott questioned.
“That girl is insane,” added Dakota.
B drew something on his notepad. It was a drawing of Chris, with a 12-pack (if that's even possible) and surrounded by adoring fans.
They all bowed, and Chris clapped loudly, much to the chagrin of the Maggots. They had no chance.
“I LOVE it!! 10/10, Rats win!!” Chris shouted, not even bothering to ask for Chef's and the intern’s opinions.
Confessional- Chef.
“If you ask me, the skit the Rats made was a bunch of Chris-propaganda-spouting-nonsense. The Maggots? Now that was amazing. Every part was well played, and every line was perfect. 10/10, truly the Mutant Maggot's magnum opus. What a cinematic masterpiece." Chef then burst out laughing.
End Confessional
“So, it’s clear to everyone that the Rats win. You may start pairing up now. I’ll pair the Maggots in a second.”
“I can go with B!” Suggested Dawn. B nodded.
“I’ll go with Sam!” Stated Dakota. Sam looked up, surprised.
Confessional- Sam.
“You’re telling me that a pretty girl willingly picked me to go to prom with them??!” Sam fainted.
End Confessional.
The only two left were Scott and Staci.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” groaned Scott.
“Ok. Mike can go with Zoey, Ella goes with Brick, and Jo goes with Anne-Maria,” said Chris, without much thought.
We cut to the teams in a warehouse that was decorated to look like a high school. The lights were a deep purple. In the center was a disco ball, and there was a dance floor underneath it.
“Ok, the way this works is that each couple will compete in one challenge each, starting with the punch drinking contest. Each couple will need to down two giant bowls of punch, one for each person. Whoever finished their punch first wins. Also, no spilling can occur our you’re out!”
“We’ll take punch,” said Jo immediately.
“Whoa, I did not sign up for that!” Anne-Maria protested.
“Don’t care, didn’t ask. We’re doing it!” Anne-Maria rolled her eyes but eventually agreed to it.
“I’ll take the punch. I just want to get my “date” with Mrs. Flabby-Mc-chatter-mouth over as soon as possible,” groaned Scott.
The couples were waiting at the punch table for Chris to call start.
“BEGIN!”
Jo quickly grabbed the bowl and downed the juice in two big gulps. She instantly turned to Anne-Maria.
“Come on, hurry up!”
Anne-Maria was having a difficult time getting the punch down. Eventually, she just couldn’t finish it. She spat all of the punch into Jo’s face. Jo screamed and clenched her fists.
“Great job, you lunatic! You cost us the challenge!” Shouted Jo.
“Maybe I woulda done betta if you weren’t SHOUTIN’ AT ME!!” Screamed Anne-Maria, her jersey accent at full display.
Jo lunged at Anne-Maria. Unfortunately for the Maggots, Scott and Staci had already finished their punch. Scott smirked and wiped the punch from his mouth.
“Easy!”
Staci also had punch around her mouth. She wiped the punch residue off her lips, but she couldn’t wipe the permanent grin off her face. She felt a deep sense of accomplishment, despite the fact it was just a bowl of punch. She felt like she'd made a genuine contribution to her team.
“The Toxic Rats win the first round!” Shouted Chris. They cheered loudly, and the Maggots knew their fate was sealed. Jo and Anne-Maria were both fighting each other. Both were covered in the sticky fruit punch, and screaming.
Confessional- Brick.
“That was so unsportsmanlike that I don’t even know what to say.”
End Confessional.
The next challenge was a dance-off. It was Ella and Brick versus Sam and Dakota.
“Ok. So, whoever can dance the longest without tripping up or giving up wins! Good luck!”
Royalty-free romance music started to play in the background. Brick had prepared for this moment his whole life. Well, he wouldn’t have expected it to be on a reality TV show with a girl he’d only known for a few days, but you win some and you lose some. Brick swooped Ella up and spun her around. Ella grabbed his hands and slowly rocked with him. They started to move around the dance floor. They continued to spin each other around in beautiful harmony. Ella couldn’t help but imagine how much this reminded her of the dance scene between Belle and the Beast. Her heart swelled. Had she found her prince? Brick was having similar thoughts. He’d never found someone quite as graceful as Ella.
Sam and Dakota were dancing much less formally. They mostly goofed off, doing random and silly dances. They were laughing very hard. Dakota couldn’t stop thinking about how cute Sam looked! The two continued to boogie, laughing all the way.
After about 30 minutes, the couples were still going strong. Well, one of them was going strong. Ella and Brick were dancing the night away, as their dance was slower and less physically demanding. Sam and Dakota weren’t fairing so well. Sam could only do so many video game dances before he tired out, and he was already on the verge of passing out. Dakota was also getting tired, but in the end, it was Sam who fell.
“The Mutant Maggots win!”
Ella and Brick collapsed into a tight embrace, happy that what felt like hours of dancing was over.
Confessional- Ella.
“Wow, I’ve never felt so magical in my life… And Brick! He was an amazing dancer!” Ella sighed longingly.
End Confessional
Confessional- Brick
“She’s quite the dancer...” Brick looked away from the confessional’s camera, hiding his tomato-red face.
End Confessional
Mike, Zoey, B, and Dawn were nervously waiting for the final part of the challenge. One can only imagine all the messed up things Chris can come up with. Soon, Chris came close to the four teenagers.
Four interns lead the contestants to a large platform that was elevated over a pool of water. The four contestants got onto the platform, and they were given water guns filled with a red liquid.
“Inside these guns are PIG BLOOD!! You must shoot your opponents off the table and into the water. The team who can knock their opponents down first wins!”
Zoey gasped. “Is this some sort of messed up homage to Carrie?!” She asked.
“I can’t state that for copyright reasons, but I think you know the answer,” said Chris.
The duos put their fingers on the trigger, waiting for Chris to let them begin.
“Three… Two… One!”
Mike and Zoey ended up both targeting Dawn, who immediately flew into the water, as she weighed almost as much as a feather. B put his finger over the nozzle of his gun, spraying blood uncontrollably. Mike and Zoey sputtered, and Zoey was close to falling into the water.
“Zoey!” Mike screamed. He quickly jumped in front of the redhead, saving her from a particularly nasty blow from B. Zoey took B’s strategy, and also put her finger over the nozzle. Soon everyone was covered in pig blood. B was standing strong and taking the blows like a champ. However, Mike was still covering Zoey and was not fairing so well. He’d never wondered how bad pig blood would taste, and now he was experiencing it in full force. The disgusting, iron-like liquid flooded his mouth. Soon, he could take no more.
“Zoey, you got this!” He shouted as he was finally knocked into the water. Zoey trembled a bit. It was her versus the smartest guy on the show! Well, maybe besides the skinny one who’d been eliminated in episode one, but she’d already forgotten his name. B continued to spray Zoey, getting increasingly closer and closer. There was almost nothing Zoey could do. Her blows were hardly affecting the juggernaut. It didn’t help that the other team was cheering B on incredibly loudly, whilst the only person cheering for Zoey was Mike. Eventually, she couldn’t handle the blows. She tumbled off the platform and into the water.
“The Toxic Rats win! Maggots, I’ll see you at the campfire tonight.” Everyone started to clear out, sans Mike and Zoey.
B twirled the water gun around and pretended to put it in an invisible holster, stepping off the platform and leaving the warehouse. Zoey was still processing the fall and all the pig blood in her mouth. The water was cold and soothing. She wiggled around in the water, trying to get all the blood off. Once she got most of it off, she resurfaced. Mike was eagerly waiting for her.
“You did so well!” Zoey couldn’t help but smile at his adorable buck-toothed grin. When he wasn’t acting as one of his kooky personas, he sure was sweet. But Zoey still didn’t feel right about him. When he played his characters, he’d act so vastly different. That might seem normal as he was an actor overall, but he was just way too method for her liking. She was planning on asking him to maybe tone it down, if it was ok with him.
“Hey… I’ve been meaning to ask you if you could maybe tone down your acting. If that’s okay with you. It’s just… With the whole jersey shore persona and whatever you did with Jo? It’s just kind of weird because I really like you and I thought you liked me, but then you start flirting with Anne-Maria and...” Zoey started to tear up. “Obviously I don’t owe you anything but...” Suddenly the was met with the warm -if not wet and bloody- feeling of Mike’s body wrapped around her.
“Zoey... I’ve got to confess something. I have this thing called MPD. Basically, it means I have multiple personalities. When I flirt with Anne-Maria and act like an old man? Those are just some of my personalities. I just lied about the acting thing. I didn’t want to seem weird and-” Zoey quickly kissed him.
“You should’ve led with that, you dummy! Why would I judge you for that? Hell, that just makes you ten times cooler!” Mike sighed a deep sigh of relief.
Confessional- Mike
“I can’t believe it! She accepts me! And I didn’t need anyone’s help telling her!”
End Confessional.
Confessional- Zoey
“Well, that explains everything. I suppose it’s best that I found out this now rather than later.”
End Confessional.
“Can you not tell anyone though? I don’t want anyone to get the wrong impression about me.” Mike saw something move in the corner of his eye, but he shrugged it off. Probably just a rat or something. The rest of the campers had left the warehouse, and it was just Mike and Zoey. Well, at least that’s what they thought.
“Of course! Your secret’s safe with me.”
The camera panned out to reveal a hidden Scott, who was hiding behind one of the lockers.
Confessional- Scott.
“So, Mike had MPD? I’m sure I can use that in the future. Zoey may not tell anyone, but I might!”
End Confessional.
Confessional- Mike.
“Ok. So, it’s great that Zoey is cool with me, but I haven’t forgotten that… He resurfaced. I might as well fill you all in. Mal is my 6th alter. He’s a protector. But he usually ends up overdoing his job and scaring people away. He knows I need this money, and I know he’ll do anything to get it. He hasn’t come out since my Juvie days.” Mike looked to the side. “But that’s another story.”
End Confessional.
The maggots were quite in a very somber mood. Zoey and Mike were covered in blood. Jo and Anne-Maria were covered in punch. Brick and Ella were the only people who seemed happy, albeit awkward.
“Ok, I think I’m going to take a shower,” said Mike.
The other three girls followed him, realizing that probably was a good idea. The only people left were Brick and Ella.
“Soo, what’d you think about my dance skills?” Brick asked in a joking tone.
“They were good! And I’m not lying, you really know how to dance!” Ella said, pointing at Brick.
“Thank you. I was actually saving that routine for a real prom. But I suppose a fake prom is just as good.”
“Oh! Well, you can always use it again. This of me as a practice round,” chuckled Ella.
“No, it was more than that!” Brick said. “I don’t know, it felt… Magical?”
“I know! It really did,” Ella said. Both parties looked away, blushing.
Confessional- Ella.
“I think I’ve found my prince…” she swooned. “And I didn’t even need to lose my shoe!”
End Confessional.
Ella and Brick both leaned in for a mutually agreed kiss. Their lips almost touched. Almost.
“Oh my god!” Sam shouted. Both Brick and Ella screamed back. Brick even fell off the log they were sitting on.
“I am so sorry! I won’t tell anyone.” Sam covered his eyes with his hands. He stumbled away.
Confessional- Sam.
"Brick? And Ella?! Who would've expected that?"
End Confessional.
Brick and Ella sat in awkward silence. It was finally broken by Brick’s infectious and hearty laugh. It was booming and loud, but it was still beautiful to Ella. She started to laugh too- her laugh was much lighter. It could’ve been mistaken for singing.
A few hours later, The Mutant Maggots were gathered at the campfire. They all exchanged nervous glances with each other. One member of their team would leave the island- permanently.
“Mutant Maggots. Welcome. There are five marshmallows on my plate. One of you will not receive one tonight, and you will catch a ride on the Bird of Shame.”
“I thought the bird died?”
“I lied. So go cast those votes and we’ll get to it!”
Voting Confessionals- Everyone on the Mutant Maggots.
“I’m voting for Jo. That bossy B-I-T-C-(Bleep) Has got to go!” Shouted Anne-Maria.
Anne-Maria is annoying, and hardly a team player. She’s leaving tonight,” said Jo, casting her vote.
“I’m voting for Anne-Maria. I’d vote for Jo, but I feel bad after the whole Mal thing,” said Mike.
Anne-Maria. If she keeps rubbing up on Mike, even as one of his alters, I’ll lose it!” Zoey shouted.
“I’ll vote for Jo. Sure, Anne-Maria messed up, but she initiated the fight. Not very sportsmanlike,” stated Brick, casting his vote.
“I’m voting for Jo. She lunged at Mike and set him off. Not very kind,” said Ella.
End Voting Confessionals.
“Okay. You’ve all cast your votes. Let’s get to it.”
“Zoey! Come get your marshmallow. You’re safe.”
Zoey eagerly jumped up and ate her marshmallow.
“Mike- so are you.”
He sighed a deep sigh of relief and took his marshmallow.
“Brick and Ella! Looks like you two lovers are safe.”
Brick and Ella exchanged a glance. “Uh, were not lo-”
“Sure, you aren’t. I can see the cameras, you know that, right?”
Everyone looked at the duo.
“Whatever.” Chris turned to Anne-Maria and Jo.
“Welcome, girls. You both got three votes each.”
The two looked at each other nervously.
“And because of this… You will engage in a tiebreaker!”
We cut to Jo and Anne-Maria on top of an elevated platform over water. In their hands were sticks with foam ends.
“Okay. Your goal is to knock your opponent into the water before the timer runs out. The winner will stay in the game, and the loser will take the bird home. BEGIN!”
Jo immediately lunged at Anne-Maria, expecting her to buckle underneath Jo’s so-called superior strength. But to Jo’s surprise, she held her ground. The metal sticks clashed against each other, and each girl took turns exchanging blows.
“Not bad, jersey girl!” Grunted Jo, who was genuinely struggling. Anne-Maria responded with a growl, knocking Jo to the ground.
“I’m staying in this game, Jo!” She shouted through her teeth.
Jo yelled and lunged at her, for the second time that day. She tackled Anne-Maria into the water, unfortunately taking herself down with her. The girls crashed into the water with a mighty splash. Jo quickly resurfaced.
“Do I win?!” She asked eagerly.
“Not exactly. You both fell into the water…” Chris grinned slyly.
“So?” Both girls asked.
“So, your both eliminated!” Chris shouted, laughing.
We cut to both girls on the docks.
“This is stupid. I won fair and square!” Jo yelled.
“Tell It to the bird!” Chris yelled back. The bird swooped down and took both girls by their arms. They yelled all the way.
“All right! Now that Jo and Anne-Maria are gone, how will the maggots fare? Will Brick and Ella continue their oh-so-secret romance? What will Mike do now that Scott knows about his MPD? Find out next time on,
Total!
Drama!
Revenge of the island!”
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2023.05.29 00:58 TSMaynard1 [RF] ABP "Always Be Preparing"

Pine needles brushed across Paul's arms as he charged through the trees with his bugout bag slung over his shoulders. Weighing in at forty pounds, it hardly slowed him down as he’d practiced this hike many times. He flicked his wrist and checked his Garmin Solar 2 Tactical Watch. The timer read: 2:23.
“You can do this, Paul.” He increased the pace and gritted his teeth, the weight finally having an effect. Paul bounded over a small creek, up a rolling hill, and pushed through a row of baby birches into a clearing. He doubled over to catch his breath and looked at his watch one more time. Two hours and twenty-eight minutes. Paul pumped his fist in victory.
After a short break, he approached a thorny bush in the center of the clearing. Paul brushed aside sand at the bush’s trunk, revealing a yellow rope. He pulled it, which lifted a hidden door in the ground covered with dirt, shrubbery, and other camouflage on the top side, and drab gray iron on the other. Underneath, wooden stairs descended into darkness. Paul retrieved a flashlight from his pack, clicked on the beam, and disappeared into the earth.
At the bottom of the steps, Paul faced a steel door and a combination lock. With several quick swipes of the dial, he opened the lock and tugged the metal door, which creaked as it cracked open. Paul flashed the beam on the offending hinges and shook his head. Something to fix later. He stepped into the secret chamber and pulled a hanging aluminum chain that turned on a large halogen light, illuminating a twenty-foot by eight-foot metal rectangle. The exposed corrugated walls revealed the bunker was nothing more than a shipping container. Paul buried it two years ago and had divided the interior into three spaces. The entry had a shelf with four dozen gallon jugs of sealed water along with a portable toilet, stacks of toilet paper, and a wastebasket. The middle section was the main living area and contained a futon, a TV with a DVD player, and a neat collection of movies underneath. A nightstand housed a small library of books, including the Bible, The Art of Meditation, Buddhism for Dummies, and other spiritual tomes. The back area of the unit had two shelves filled with canned food—black beans, green beans, peaches, peas, carrots, beef, and chicken. There was also a stationary bike, which was Paul’s proudest accomplishment because he had rigged it to a giant battery that provided power to all the electronics.
Paul was a prepper, and this would be his home when the end of the world came, an event he believed was imminent. The global economy was a house of cards built on greed, corruption, and inflated asset prices, but worst of all, it was based on a faith in paper and digital money.
His fear was triggered four years ago when he attended a lecture by a professor who explained the fragility of the world’s financial system. If a few banks failed, it would rattle people’s confidence, causing a herd-like response. Thousands of people would rush to withdraw their cash, which the banks no longer had because they’d invested it. The banks would either fail, and everyday folks would lose their life savings, or the government would print new money to replace the missing money, making all money worth a lot less. Anyone holding dollars would attempt to convert them to other assets.
Just like dominoes, the banks would topple over one by one, and as they crashed, people’s faith in money would crater. After all, what was money? It was just paper with printed images and numbers that we’d all accepted as having value. More recently, money had become numbers displayed on a computer screen, something Paul knew firsthand as he spent the first seven years of his career working at a regional bank in Asheville, North Carolina. Paul could literally change someone’s net worth with a few keystrokes. He could turn a pauper into a millionaire, or he could bankrupt the richest account holder. Sure, there were safeguards, but all were built on faith, which Paul believed was misplaced. Most people didn’t realize that the Federal Reserve only required each bank to hold at least ten percent of its deposits as a reserve. Ten percent. That’s it. The rest of the money was invested in loans or other financial instruments. As the rich bank owners and executives pushed for bigger and bigger returns, they invested in riskier and riskier assets. The lessons from the financial crisis of 2008 had been forgotten.
Once the monetary system collapsed, the entire economy would become paralyzed. Without a means of exchange, transactions would halt. Think about it. If someone tried to give you a slip of paper that you thought was worthless, would you give them anything of value in return?
The doomsday scenario would escalate. Food and water prices would skyrocket, but with no way to purchase them, many would starve. But people don’t just roll over and die, they would riot and take what they need to survive. Marshall Law would be implemented, but citizens would revolt against the government they felt had cheated them.
As Paul listened to the lecturer that fateful day, a depressing epiphany struck. Everything he’d learned and everything he’d spent his life acquiring was worthless.
Growing up, Paul had been taught the value of money, saving, and planning for retirement. He internalized these lessons as a teen after his father got sick and lost his job. His mother had died when he was very young, but his father still managed to provide him with a stable childhood, even though they were barely middle class. When his father fell ill, Paul witnessed firsthand how fast a family could sink into financial trouble, which couldn’t have come at a worse time. He was applying to colleges, and instead of choosing the one he liked best, he chose the one that gave him the most financial aid, which turned out to be a small school half-way across the country. He also didn’t choose a major he was excited about; he chose the one that would offer the safest financial prospects—economics with an emphasis on banking.
The distance from home meant that Paul didn’t see the rapid deterioration of his father. It wasn’t until he returned for the funeral that family friends told him how the disease had spread. His father had refused to let anyone tell Paul because he didn’t want that to distract Paul from his studies.
After graduating, Paul accepted a job at a bank, and immediately signed up for the company’s 401K match. Most college graduates can't grasp retirement when they enter the workforce, but a 401K match was free money. Over the next several years, Paul worked diligently to advance his career while saving most of his salary. He’d mapped out his life on an excel spreadsheet and calculated that he’d be financially secure at 53.
Everything went according to plan until that damn lecturer came along and blew it up. Sifting through the rubble of his grand scheme, Paul realized that in the new world order, he possessed no skills to survive. The savings he’d so meticulously built up would have little to no value. When the economy collapsed, he'd be like a baby, unable to do anything for himself.
After a week of wallowing in despair, Paul rallied himself. “I can still fix this” became a daily mantra. To start, he threw himself into survival classes. The first was a basic camping course where he learned how to create shelters and start a fire. The next class was more advanced and focused on water purification and building snares for small game.
Paul continued working at the bank, because he needed to pay for the classes and survival equipment he began hoarding, but on his next vacation, he put his training to the test. He planned to camp for a week in the Appalachian Mountains, but the temperature swings, especially at night, were too much. Paul lasted three nights in the wild. The humbling experience forced him to admit that he wasn’t a bushman. His depression returned until he stumbled upon an article about “preppers”—individuals who prepare for end of world disasters. Suddenly, things made sense. He didn’t need to abandon all the comforts of modern society. He needed to prepare for the end of the world the way he had planned for retirement.
As Paul traveled down the rabbit hole of prepping, he uncovered an underground society of people like him who knew the truth about the world’s demise. Of course, not everyone believed it would end because of an economic collapse. Some thought a nuclear war would destroy civilization. Others feared electromagnetic pulses from the sun would wipe out all modern electricity. And still others worried a massive volcanic eruption would spew enough ash and soot into the air to blot out the sun. There was no shortage of theories about the world ending, but one thing was clear. The world would end. Did it matter how it happened?
Paul began his prepping quest by purchasing ten acres an hour and a half outside of Asheville. It had plenty of small animals and a creek running through the middle. He then transported an unused cargo container to the land and buried it. This was the toughest part of the plan because it required heavy equipment. Next, he dug out a staircase and installed a steel door at the entrance. Finally, he furnished it with a mix of modern comforts and survival essentials.
Almost every weekend, Paul trekked to his underground sanctuary and made improvements. He also planned his bugout strategy. When the end of the world hit, he figured he needed to be safely hidden in his home within two and a half hours, a time he had achieved with this latest trip. Everything was set, and Paul could finally relax. He was prepared.
Paul slumped down on his futon and considered playing a movie or cracking the bottle of Jim Beam whiskey he stored in a special cabinet, but he shook off the urge. Those things were the rewards and comforts he’d enjoy after the world ended. His fingers rubbed the top of the Bible, something he planned to read cover to cover once the global economy cratered. He’d have plenty of time then to discover his spiritual side, but not now. Something else needed to be done. Something he’d missed.
The biggest mistake a prepper can make is assuming he had everything covered. This was the lesson taught by Yannis, the guru of the prepping world. He was so well-known within the doomsday community; he only went by one name. The guy was sharp as a whip and could live off the land, if necessary, but he preferred a more sophisticated lifestyle, so he created a luxurious cave that contained backup systems for all his backups. Food, water, shelter, and electricity were all taken care of, and it was projected that Yannis could survive ten years comfortably after the apocalypse. His famous blog titled “ABP” stood for Always Be Preparing. It was a motto Yannis lived by and something Paul aspired to, but as he sat in his bunker after the relentless hike, fatigue set in. He didn’t want to think about prepping or his bugout strategy. He wanted to just be.
Paul tilted his head back onto the futon’s cushion, and a loneliness crept into his mind. All his prepping left little time for relationships. He dated off and on in college, but it was never anything serious. It wasn’t like his high school sweetheart, Kristin Summer. They dated junior and senior year, but then Paul broke it off when his father got sick. Paul couldn’t focus on romance, and he knew the relationship wouldn’t have worked when he left for school 1,500 miles away. It still hurt when he learned from a friend that Kristin started dating Derek Gorman, an old classmate Paul hated. It hurt even more when he found out they had gotten married.
After college, Paul joined a couple of dating sites, but he hadn’t used them in over two years. Most women wouldn’t understand his prepping lifestyle, at least that’s what he feared, so he rejected dating before anyone could reject him. But most wasn't all, and with eight billion people on the planet, there had to be someone for him. Almost without thinking, Paul pulled out his phone and opened “My Match,” the site where he’d had the most luck. His profile still had a photo from his early banking days. He was clean shaven with a naïve smile. The face staring back in the picture differed greatly from the bearded survivalist he’d become. Would anyone consider a relationship with the new Paul? Only one way to find out. He snapped a selfie, uploaded it, and then updated his hobbies with the first being “prepping” followed by “survival skills training.” He finished by pressing the button that showed he was actively looking for someone. All he had to do now was wait.
After spending the night in his bunker, Paul checked the dating site in the morning. No response. “It was a stupid idea,” he told himself, and stuffed his phone back into his pocket. He locked his container and returned home.
Over the next two weeks, Paul received zero requests for a date. He didn’t even receive a message from anyone to start a conversation and test the waters. “Shake it off, dumbass,” he said alone in the confines of his cottage-style home. “The world is going to end, anyway.” He clenched his jaw and did what he always did. He researched more ways to survive. Paul poured over blog posts and imagined worst-case scenarios. How could his water be contaminated? Maybe he should bury some caches of water. What if someone finds his shelter? Maybe security cameras were needed. What if he gets lonely in his shelter? No ideas came to mind.
After his eyes got tired from reading, Paul clicked out of his browser, and the list of all his apps stared at him. For reasons unknown to him, he opened Facebook, something he hadn’t done for months. There were a handful of notifications and a couple of friend requests sent weeks ago. His heart raced when he saw the name of one—Kristin Summer. When he accepted, he saw she was on-line right then.
Should he message her? Would that be weird right after accepting her request? But wasn’t it weird that he hadn’t responded for several weeks? He pulled up the messenger and typed. “Hey. Sorry for the delay in accepting your request. Hadn’t been on Facebook in a while. Been busy. Hope you and Derek are well.”
He curled his lip in disgust as he typed Derek’s name and considered deleting it, but he took the moral high ground and hit “send” with his message unaltered.
Kristin Summer. Just the thought of her name brought a smile to Paul’s face.
Bing.
The sound alerted Paul to a response, which he read out loud. “Hey Paul. Good to hear from you. Derek and I divorced a little over a year ago. It was rough at first, but it was for the best. How are you?”
Paul’s eyes widened with shock and excitement. He couldn’t believe Derek was so stupid to let Kristin go. Paul could at least blame their breakup on his father’s illness. His fingers prattled away on the keyboard. “Things are amazing.” He stopped typing. That was a lie. Should he pretend like things were great or should he be honest and tell her about his prepping and the end of the world? Neither option sounded appealing. He tapped the keys without writing until he settled on something uncontroversial.
“Working at Trinity Bank in Asheville. It pays the bills. Where are you?”
Within a minute, the sweet sound of the notification binged. “I’m not too far away in Durham. If you’re ever in town, let me know.”
If you’re ever in town, let me know.
Paul couldn’t believe his eyes. Was Kristin asking him out? He shook his head. Nah, she’s probably just being polite. But maybe. If there was any chance, he had to find out. He chewed his lip and deliberated his next response. Fortune favors the bold, he told himself. Then he remembered Matt Damon telling people that in the now infamous commercial for FTX months before its collapse. When that occurred, Paul thought it was the beginning of the end, and he lived in his bunker for two days before emerging and finding the world still intact.
Paul clenched his fist. It was still good advice, and he had to try. Almost involuntarily, he typed, “I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon. If you want to get together, let me know.” His finger hit send before he could talk himself out of it. There was no qualification in the message. No waffling or hedging. It was clear Paul wanted to see Kristin. The only question now was whether she wanted to see him.
The next ten minutes felt like ten days. Paul paced back and forth with his hands over his head, and he glanced at the monitor every few seconds, just in case his ears had missed the notification alert.
There was nothing.
A dark depression filled the room. Why had he gotten his hopes up? What was the point, anyway? The world was going to end.
Bing.
Paul leapt to the computer and his eyes widened with each word he read. “How about a lunch at The Fig Tree Restaurant on 7th?”
People overuse the word literally, but Paul at least felt like his jaw was literally on the floor. He had a date with Kristin Summer, the one woman he had loved. His hands rattled away at the keyboard. “See you at 1 tomorrow.”
“Holy crap,” he muttered to himself.
Panic replaced his excitement when he imagined sitting down and talking to Kristin. What would he say? “Hey Kristin, what have you been up to? Oh me? I’ve been working at a job I hate and planning for the end of the world.”
He drifted into the bathroom and stared at the scruffy character in the mirror. Paul could only cringe at the thought of Kristin’s reaction upon seeing him. She might not recognize the bearded loner who resembled Ted Kaczynski more than the short-haired, clean-shaven teen she last saw.
Only one thing to do.
Paul had to prepare. He opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of clippers. He began trimming his beard and mustache as short as the clippers would allow. Next, he applied a generous amount of cream and shaved all of it off. Paul smirked at the young man hiding under the shabby beard, but it still wasn’t enough. He set the guard on the clippers to a four and began shaving his head. In college, Paul cut his own hair to save money, and the skill came back to him quickly. He dropped to a three and worked in a fade on the sides and then finished with a two. Paul turned to the left, then to the right, and assessed his work. Not bad.
Next thing to prepare was his outfit. Paul slid the door of his closet open and evaluated his choices. A banker’s suit was too stuffy, and his mountain man denim was too hermit inspired. He yanked the clothes aside and climbed deeper into the recesses of his wardrobe until he found a nice buttoned-down shirt and a dark pair of slacks. It gave just the right vibe of successful and stable, while not trying too hard to impress, even though that was his precisely his goal. Paul laid the selection on the chair by his bed. Durham was a three-and-a-half-hour drive away, and he wanted to make sure he got there with time to find parking, and maybe use the restroom. He set the alarm on his iPhone for 6 a.m. That would give him plenty of time to take a shower, have breakfast, and get dressed.
There was no chance of falling asleep easily. His mind raced with thoughts, questions, and various scenarios about what the day would bring. To relax, he poured himself a double whiskey, which he downed with a single slurp. He poured another and sipped.
Kristin Summer. He shook his head, still in disbelief.
As the effect of alcohol set in, Paul laid down on his bed and shut his eyes. Tomorrow would be a good day.
Paul slipped into a deep, satisfying sleep until his mind jolted him awake. It was past 6 a.m. He didn’t know how he knew. He just knew. Paul had slept through his alarm. He snatched his phone off the nightstand, but it was out of battery. He checked his watch and saw it was 7 a.m. There was still time to get to Durham.
Paul jumped out of bed and into the bathroom. He flicked on the light switch, but nothing came on. Paul toggled it on and off, but the outlet was dead.
Police sirens wailed in the distance. Paul meandered out of his house and onto the front lawn. Aside from the sirens, there was an uneasy stillness. Paul’s neighbor Kurt ran out from his home with two suitcases that he flung into the trunk of his car.
“Kurt. What’s going on?” Paul asked.
“Fort Knox was bombed. All the gold was obliterated. And something happened to the electricity and the internet. They shut it down.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know, man, but it’s not good. No one has access to news, no money, nothing.”
“Where are you going?” Paul asked.
“I don’t know. Somewhere isolated. I’m just hoping there are no more bombings or other attacks.” Kurt jumped into his car and sped away.
This was it. The world was ending. All of his preps were about to pay off. But what about Kristin? Paul didn’t want the world to end. If he tried to get Kristin, there was no chance he could reach his shelter before things get hairy. Plus, there was no way he could find her. He didn’t have her address, and she might have already left Durham for somewhere safe.
Paul forced himself to focus on his plan. This was what he had prepared for. He dashed back inside and changed into his camouflage gear, grabbed his bugout bag, and then sprinted to his truck. He drove through his neighborhood and reached the main road. His shelter and plans were to the left. Kristin and the unknown were to the right. The whites of Paul’s knuckles flared as he gripped the steering wheel. Now was not the time to waffle. He turned left and hit the accelerator.
Paul gritted his teeth and raced down the street. Keep going. Keep going. He urged himself on. Almost involuntarily, his foot slammed on the brakes. Paul couldn’t do it. He’d planned for the worst all his life, and while he sat alone with the engine idling, he had to admit the truth. He’d lived all his life in fear.
Paul yanked the wheel and turned around toward Durham.
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2023.05.29 00:57 InfernoAA P.U.R.E I

P.U.R.E I
Perfectly Unadulterated Regal Excellency. P.U.R.E. Named in dedication to four of the greatest technical wrestlers of all-time – Mr. Perfect, Kurt Angle, William Regal, and Bret Hart – tonight is as big as it ever gets for the Blitz brand as we embark on our first-ever edition of BTE's Blitz equivalent PPV! Much like those men, if you wish to be successful in Pure Rules, you must embody intelligence, grit, and a goal-driven mindset to reach the top, so keep that in mind as you immortalise your names into history on this INSANE 14-match card! Emanating from the Twickenham Stadium in London, England, home to the English National Rugby Team, 82,000 strong will be here to witness history in one of the biggest crowds in FBE’s history, beating even BTE attendance numbers! A huge thank you to Petite Jupiter’s PJs ‘N PB&Js for sponsoring us tonight, commemorating the long-awaited return of a legend with comfort for the body and the soul! Now, get strapped in for the show of a lifetime as England’s own Royal Blood sets the tone for the night with a live performance of their latest single, “Mountains At Midnight”!

Perfect Quarter

Non-Title Champion vs Champion: FBE Television Champion Cactus Mike vs FBE Junior Heavyweight Champion Paddy Murphy
Opening in HUGE fashion is a first-time ever dream meeting between two of the most beloved members of the roster! On one side is the two-time Television Champion with SIX overall defences to his name, The Ark’s Cactus Mike! Recently having his own one-year anniversary celebration much like Blitz last week, he’s been an icon in every division he’s taken part in, from being a component of the thrilling 3-way rivalry with John and Jay Castle, to an intense Shining-esque blood feud with Happy, to being one of the most consistent Pure Rules competitors, taking the likes of Inferno and Apeirogone to their limits. Proving his mettle in the Shining Light League, tonight more than ever can put him in the conversation for being next in line!
On the other side is the current Junior Heavyweight Champion, the Sham-Rock ‘N Scot Connection’s Paddy Murphy! Following a career trajectory similar to the Cardiac Cactus himself in his first few months, he’s rapidly elevated himself from a youngblood to one of the most emotionally riveting performers in the company today, having taken the Junior Division by storm under the guidance of his Sensei and his Dojo. Further greatness surely ahead of the World’s Most Wanted, his 6-point tournament run more than proving his potential, this could be his moment of redemption that catapults him into the next stratosphere, another Ark member having been the only obstacle between him and the Semi Finals!
Prompt: Rebook The British Bulldog’s WWF Intercontinental Championship Reign (Max 1000 Words)

Petite Jupiter Invitational: Arslan Malik vs Ferdinand Maxim vs Guy Fawkes vs Mr. Calcote Miller vs Vix
It’s finally happening, laddies! Initially announced for the first-ever BTE, the Petite Jupiter Invitational was a Battle Royale scheduled to commemorate the legacy of the then recently retired Shining Light, with the winner earning an Intercontinental Championship shot. Though plans fell through, there’s no reason it shouldn’t take place on the first BTE-level show of the Pure Division! Whilst a secondary title doesn’t yet exist on Blitz, the winner of this match can definitely expect their name to be held in higher regards, leaving with a trophy they can cherish when looking back on the moment that elevated them to the next level, one competitor from this plucky spread of rising stars being immortalised.
Will it be the Ass-Kicker Arslan Malik punching a hole through the competition? Perhaps Le Prince de Paris Ferdinand Maxim can make his kingdom even more golden? Maybe former Junior Heavyweight Champion Guy Fawkes can break bank in another division? Could Big 4 Main Eventer Mr. Calcote Miller be in line for a return to glory? Or is the most synonymous with the original prize of this match, former FBC Intercontinental Champion Vix soaring into the stars?
Prompt: Book the next year of any championship of your choosing (Max 1000 Words)

Mark Steel vs Michael Menzies II
In recent weeks, something of a rivalry has begun to brew between Death to Juniors and their latest targets, the Sensei-led duo of the Sham-Rock ‘N Scot Connection. With Paddy Murphy taking DTJ’s Junior Title and Michael Menzies going to war with Joshua Epps and Mark Steel in back-to-back weeks, why stop there? When the Future-Proof last tested his skills against DTJ, he was lost, without direction, searching for a means of survival. But what difference a month makes, now a completely transformed star since replacing the Kalamity surname, finding himself in strong company, no longer to be soloed out by the vultures of the Heavyweight Division.
Still, he can’t solely rely on friends to make it big. A recent landslide victory in his favour on Blitz makes it appear as though he’s ready for Round Two against the Gatekeeper of New Talent, so exactly that will occur, Michael receiving a chance at redemption against the stable which has his number! In Peak Performance’s case, shutting down the Junior Revolution before it can fully take off its feet would be in his best interest, nothing sweeter than bragging about single-handedly being the cause of death of another competitor’s potential, Steel keeping his territory on lock from newcomers!
Prompt: Book Clash at the Castle II (Max 1000 Words)

Simon Brown vs Kentaro Sakamoto vs Travis Broski
Tournaments have oft been a means of elevating competitors closer to the brass ring, the gruelling schedules showing their true inner resilience and ability to maintain their skill even into the later rounds. For all three of these men, that statement couldn’t be truer.
Exhibit A: Simon Brown. Though his FBE tenure was brief, he smashed through the glass ceiling in a manner many are unable to, a run into the Semi Finals of the inaugural Gedo Classic being promptly followed up by him becoming the second-ever Junior Heavyweight Champion in just a month or so of joining FBE, putting himself on a list that’s spawned some of the biggest stars of the current era.
Exhibit B: Kentaro Sakamoto. Going from the third member of Semper Lucet to forever remembered for his performance in the inaugural Punish & Crush Tournament, his advancement to the Finals over championship competition made it clear as day what he could offer at his best, becoming a staple Heavyweight ever since, sharing iconic moments alongside PROSPECT.
Exhibit C: Travis Broski. Much like The Immortalizer, he too was launched into the next stratosphere with an inspiring Gedo Classic Semis campaign in its most recent edition, the Undercity Underdog going on to upset some of the most valued juggernauts in company history in its aftermath, now continuing to remain a threat to the top of the pecking order.
All three feasibly able to take on the entire world if they so please (and all Ape guys?), they’re going to have to confront their most unique challenge yet in shattering mirrors of themselves!
Prompt: Book GUNTHER until WrestleMania 40 (Max 1000 Words)

Unadulterated Quarter

James Scott vs Jason Beggs
When you look at the career James Scott has had, it’s hard not to envy the Purest Protagonist for his many accolades. Intercontinental Champion, the original Junior Champion Ace, inaugural Lifeline Classic Winner over Hall of Fame level competition, New Beginning III main eventer, he’s been around the block and then some. Inventing the model for what a newcomer to the company should resemble if they wish to be remembered, fearlessly running with the giants like he’s David, he’s surely inspired a generation, but what about those from his generation?
When one man dominates the rest, there’s to be casualties along the way, Jason Beggs being one of those who suffered from Scott’s meteoric rise, his name being forgotten in favour of the Aussie, despite Jason beating him in Scott’s multi-man debut. With three years passing since both first broke into the company, they find themselves in the same division again, making it only inevitable that their paths would cross again on the hunt for the Pure Title. So, why not now? Becoming Irresistible since his return, for Beggs this is the perfect opportunity at revenge by tossing James down the mountain this time in a Lion King moment, but as always, it’s Scott vs The World and he won’t be rolling over for anyone!
Prompt: Book the revival of Pete Dunne (Max 1000 Words)

Battle of the Best II: DTJ (Misery, Hunter Maguire, Joshua Epps) vs PROVINCE (Sebastian King, Erick Koeman, Karma) vs The RISE (Ripley, John LaGuardia, Victor Williams)
On 1000 days of FBE, three of the most iconic stables in the company’s history butted heads, British Ambition, Lifeline, and PRIDE Gang squaring off in the inaugural Battle of the Best, that match putting a bow to the end of those 9 men’s generation, a more modern school of FBE competition ensuing in its aftermath which blended two very different eras together. Of the new crop, three factions have been inseparable over the past year in every form they’ve come to pass, Death to Juniors, PROVINCE, and The RISE all being tied at the hip.
WarGames earlier this year seeing The RISE’s predecessor, J.E.M, defeat DTJ, and PROVINCE subsequently debuting at DTJ’s expense, the critically acclaimed group has taken enough from both squadrons, finally getting a chance to exact their revenge on both in one fell swoop! PROVINCE and The RISE aren’t without their own issues either, the Shining Light League sparking friction between them in block matches, all 3 factions trading victories over the course of the competition, DTJ and The RISE even putting representatives through to the Semi Finals whilst PROVINCE costed the remainder of their men from moving on. In a race to prove themselves the next big things of the company, one faction will walk out here with a trophy to their name and a score at last settled!
Prompt: Book Ilja Dragunov on the Main Roster (Max 1 Part Per Person; 1000 Words each)

EED vs JOHN
Whilst FBE’s been a breeding ground for a wide range of colourful personalities, there’s been few that’ve acted as ‘anti-personalities’, deviating from the supernatural world to crack down on those they’ve felt to be caricatures of what a true wrestler should be. The most shining example of all in the Wild West was EED, standing out against the variety pack roster with his scathing, no-nonsense attitude, drilling a hole in the skull of anyone, both on the mic and in the ring, who he deemed unbecoming to the sport which paid his bills and subsequently having his way with their tattered remains.
Though no one has since quite managed to capture the aura of the Notorious, few might’ve argued JOHN to be his successor. All caps, plain and simple, the Misfit’s been unlike his exotic peers, simply a freak of nature uprooting anything in his path. A career marked by gold much like the former Television and Commonwealth Champion, JOHN with his own record-breaking Junior Heavyweight Championship reign, tonight he gets a chance to step to an OG as one of these two prove themselves to be the undisputed real man’s man of FBE!
Prompt: Book Drew McIntyre’s Return (Max 1000 Words)

Nate Matthews vs T.M Imran
Before T.M Imran was an official member of the FBE roster, he was one of the guinea pigs of the Trials system, and though he managed to win over majority of his examiners, there was but one he simply couldn’t crack – Nate Matthews. A Living Legend by this company’s standards and understandably one of the toughest to impress given his unmatched laundry list of accomplishments, from his many firsts like walking in as World Champion into the first BTE’s main event or being the first Grand Slam Winner, 8 championship reigns to his name, to being the Ace at one point, it would take a hell of a lot more to catch his attention.
In the wrestling business they say ‘to be the man you have to beat the man’, so what better way to gain the respect of the OG than through wrestling him? Nate competing in the first-ever Pure Rules match in company history, defeating him in a category his name’s been forever tied to would certainly give the Fifth Asian Tiger’s career its defining moment after two Television Championship reigns that put him on the map, the two Heyman Classic entrants to get warmed up here ahead of a bid to make BTE’s main event this year!
Prompt: TBD

Regal Quarter

Bong vs Bengt Holm
The crossover appeal of FBE has brought in a myriad of names over the years from all walks of life, but above all perhaps the most influential is Bong. A staunch anti-racism campaigner from the world of LLR, he’s considered royalty in his home promotion, a G1 Climax Winner among other lauded accomplishments living the unemployed life of raising two families yet still sparing the time to whoop anyone who gives him grief. He’s Scottish, he’s unhinged, and he’ll rawdog you back to wherever you came from, no expenses paid.
If you hold a popularity contest, Bong would take the crown, but someone who’s rapidly been gaining recognition since joining in the last couple months is the one they call KillKill, Bengt Holm accruing quite the name on both Firestorm and Blitz, most recently putting up a valiant effort against the Junior Champion. With Kojot in his ear and a Bong-like affinity to deal with his problems using his fists, this Thai-tanic could be the one they warn the icebergs about, the unsinkable Bengt headed to the helm of his division if he can outshine the sheer star power of his adversary here!
Prompt: Book the push of Maximum Male Models (Max 1000 Words)

Code Blue vs Jay Castle III
Resistance III was supposed to be the greatest night of Code Blue’s life until it wasn’t. Mugged by The Aether Aces before the match could even begin and having his eye stabbed by their latest recruit, former PROSPECT member Jay Castle, he was taken out of commission that night, though it had him return even more driven, and this time with a vengeance. The issues between these two extend long before that night however, butting heads all the way back in the main event of Blitz III one year ago, where the Hometown Hero narrowly upset the now shared longest reigning champion in FBE history.
Proceeding to cross paths again as part of the famed Ark/PROSPECT rivalry, Blue getting his win back in an Intercontinental Championship Eliminator that kickstarted his recent meteoric rise, they’ve never been ones to see eye to eye, and especially after what Jay did to Blue, the chance of it ever happening is dead in the water. They say an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, but that’s the least of the Pasadena Paralyser’s concerns, not letting Castle slip by him this time as he hunts down his rival only days removed from his first-ever singles World Heavyweight Championship match, fatigued yet with the drive of an army of 1000 men to strike down with furious anger to settle their score once and for all!
Prompt: Book a Nigel McGuinness Return Run (Max 1000 Words)

Atlas Rogue vs Ethan Fadely VII
When it comes to utterly personal rivalries, Atlas Rogue and Ethan Fadely’s is very much up there. Stretching all the way back to 2020, when Sol Ace took the Son of the Roses’ World Heavyweight Championship, a mutual hatred was sparked between the polar opposites, Fadely eventually having his revenge in his unstoppable 2022 return, taking Rogue to mercy at New Beginning IV. After a bloody WarGames between Infinite POWER and REVOLT, the two met again late last year, trading victories, Atlas besting Fadely at his own game, and Ethan getting the Godfather of Pure Rules back under his district. Once Ethan formed The Aether Aces with Atlas’s former partner, the siren began to sing her song, luring the two to one more match, one year on from their previous NB encounter. And once again, it was Fadely callousing his foe, leaving him with horrific injuries to tie up their saga 3-3.
3 months have passed since and Rogue hasn’t been able to forget, the scars he sees in the mirror each morning reminding him of what must be done. Now, fully healed up, King Blitz is back for one final dance with his career rival to break the tie between them, adamant to round out his incredible Pure Rules run by beating the one that got away! In Ethan’s case however, it’s all about ending Atlas for good this time, the Portlander wanting to add to The Aether Aces stretch of top-billing stars they’ve buried in a ditch, a tiebreaking victory the most crucial one available! Will Atlas start the Summer with a dead rose, or can Ethan crush the King’s crown under his boot? Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s the Final Rodeo between Rogue and Fadely!
Prompt: Book Forbidden Door II (Max 1000 Words)

Excellence Quarter

British Rounds: Desmond Caid vs Capital STEEZ VIII
Unlike the consistent hatred brimming between the last two, the saga between Desmond Caid and Capital STEEZ has followed a rather different trajectory. Though seesawing between mutual loathing and respect, at the centre of it all has always lain a consistent power struggle between two of the elite in their quests to prove themselves the undisputed best. Starting with the opener of the first-ever Carnage Tour – which has gone on to become a tradition between the two – their story has served as a timeline of King Capital’s growing stardom against the first Ace of FBE. The first year resulting in constant failures for STEEZ, from Carnage to an Intercontinental Championship match to WarGames to the Heyman Classic to BTE II’s main event, the winds of change finally blew in his direction come 2021, Steelo scoring his first win over the Maestro in the Lifeline Classic.
Marking the start of STEEZ’s rise into the Ace spot once occupied by Caid, the narrative began to shift in his favour, coming back from a 4-0 deficit to best him each subsequent year at Carnage, with tag team victories in the Battle of the Best and Three Stages of Hell along the way, this year putting him up to 4-3. Now, they’re set to meet yet again as STEEZ receives his chance to tie up the saga, whilst Desmond looks to break his dry spell against his iconic foe. What makes this match so unique compared to the rest however is the stipulation in place. Always known for their lengthy classics against each other, for the very first time they’re going to meet under an entirely different ruleset, the British Rounds system testing their ability to work a much, much quicker pace! Caid on home turf much like he was back at Unbreakable II, if there’s anytime to cut STEEZ off, it’s here, whilst for the Bossman, writing over the crushing memories of London would be in his best interest in finally cementing himself as having Desmond’s number!
Prompt: Book Hideo Itami if he skipped NXT and went directly to the Main Roster (Max 3 Parts; 1000 Words each)

Non-Title: FBE World Heavyweight Champion Inferno vs Petite Jupiter III
After years of grinding yet being forced to settle for second best, 2023 has undisputedly been Inferno’s year, ruling the roost with an iron fist from the jump, a Booker in the Bank cash-in mere weeks in making him Double Champion alongside his X Division (Pure) Championship reign. Embarking on a murderous run with the support of The Aether Aces, he’s crushed old and new faces alike week after week in everything from a draining 90-Minute Iron Man match to a thrilling British Rounds showdown to an emotional Title vs Career classic, diving further and further past the point of no return with his bastardly streak. Sitting atop the Pure ruleset with the most matches and wins in history, using it as a means to stomp out fledgling talent and address unfinished business, it seems as though there’s no one who can stop Baba Blitz.
…That is, no one that’d been currently active. Making a bombshell return after over a year of being sidelined with injury, appearing on Blitz’s one-year anniversary to present the trophy to the Shining Light League Winner, a tournament named in his honour, Petite Jupiter whipped Buckingham Palace into a frenzy with his appearance, London giving him the perfect homecoming. One of only 2 people the Aether Ace has never beaten in his career, Inferno was quick to interrupt his British Ambition brother, though seeming more like strangers with how much has changed between them since their last meeting. Goading him into one more match by pushing his buttons like the master manipulator he’s proven to be, citing the Shining Light’s lack of victories over reigning World Champions despite his Hall of Fame career, the ever-valiant PJ accepted, setting the stage for a long-awaited blockbuster end to their trilogy!
No shortage of Pure Rules experience himself, PJ the Grandfather to Blitz if Inferno’s its Baba, he holds a win over the Brummie Bastard under the ruleset, having faced off under it at the first FBE Anniversary Show after a despaired Inferno had turned his back on his brothers, feeling abandoned by them in his time of need, PJ subsequently bringing him back to the light. Later also sullying Inferno’s first BITB cash-in, which he’s since perfected, keeping his prized Intercontinental Championship from him, he’s held his former World Tag Team Championship partner’s number for the past 3 years, but now, it remains to be seen if the story will be any different, the two Britons colliding one final time in their home country as all their experiences craft the perfect closing chapter to their tale!
Prompt: Book a main event push for PAC (Max 1000 Words)

FBE Pure Championship: Shining Light League Winner FBE World Tag Team Champion Dr. Logan Wright (c) vs Apeirogone 3rd Defence
The term ‘Final Boss’ isn’t thrown about lightly. Throughout FBE history, only one man’s been truly synonymous with the term. They say it’s anyone’s season until this man comes around. They claim he’s the type of guy to fly down to Hell and come back with gift shop souvenirs. World Championships, two-hour Gauntlets, Three Stages of Hell, he’s been there and won them all. Wins over damn near every single person that’s come to matter throughout the company’s history, he’s that guy. Legendary factions, shows named after him, an entire cult of personality backing him as the company’s Commissioner, what more could you want out of a person’s resume? Well, it’s not about what the people want, or what he himself wants, but rather, what another man yearns for. The chance to immortalise his name into wrestling history. The chance to join only four others in their abilities to beat this man. The chance to cement themselves as a Final Boss forever.
Dr. Logan Wright, reigning two-time FBE Pure Champion off the back of being one of only two to pin the current World Champion this year, reigning FBE World Tag Team Champion via ending the longest championship reign of any title in company history after winning 2023’s Punish & Crush, inaugural Shining Light League Winner by sweeping through 6 matches front-to-back, and the man that will carry his title into the first-ever BTE-equivalent Blitz show, P.U.R.E, has selected none other than Apeirogone to be the third challenger to his Pure Title!
For months, the Medicinal Magician has silently watched as people have lauded the accomplishments of his Ark brethren against the Infinity Ace. Cactus Mike almost taking the man to a draw. Code Blue ending his 1347-day undefeated singles streak. Kaze Tanaka sending him into retirement. But what about him? What about the final member of The Ark? What about the licensed medical practitioner that’s on the best run of his entire life despite the constant demons rattling around inside his brain? They’ve all had their chance, so why can’t he? Forced to wrestled with the “can never beat a veteran legend” stigma for years, he’s decided to put down his stethoscope and declare no longer! Even after there’s no reading on his ECG and 0 of his 206 bones have been reduced to dust, he wants to the world to remember his name!
So, it begs the question – What happens when one of the greatest of all-time steps outside his comfort zone and into the kingdom of another man to fight for only one of two championships he doesn’t have hung up on his wall? Will Apeirogone avenge his previous losses to The Ark by taking away the prize that breathed life back into the soul of the Doctor in his first-ever BTE-style main event? Or will Logan Wright silence the critics until the end of time, keeping his undefeated streak extending back to January, keeping his unbeaten Blitz Big 4 streak, and keeping his Pure Championship by felling a legend? It’s the Final Boss of Blitz versus the Final Boss of FB to close out P.U.R.E!
Prompt: Book Kenny Omega until Double or Nothing 2024 (Max 1000 Words)

All bookings are due on June 3rd at 11PM EST, so don’t delay on those. Fourteen star-studded matches on the card featuring 39 unique competitors – the most there’s ever been on any FBE show in history – let’s make this a memorable first P.U.R.E, lads! Pure rules.
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2023.05.29 00:22 JoshAsdvgi Tale About the Sea-Spirit

Tale About the Sea-Spirit

Tale About the Sea-Spirit

There was a small river that flowed into the sea.
Some Tungus lived at the mouth of the river, and caught fish.
One time they came to the sea and saw a sea-spirit as big as a whale coming up from under the water.
The sea-spirit said, "O people! you are here. I want to devour you."
They prayed to him to let them live.
"All right," said the spirit, "I will devour only one man now, and the others may go home, but every day you must give me one man.
You must bring him to the sea, and leave him near the water.
He shall be food for me.
Otherwise, if you do not do as I bid, I shall carry off your nets and drive away all the fish.
I shall turn over your canoes, and so I shall surely devour you, nevertheless.
The Tungus went home, leaving one of their number behind.
They went to their chief, and said to him, "What is to be done?
We have to give away one man after another.
We cannot live without the sea." So they gave to the spirit one victim after another.
At last came the turn of the only daughter of the chief.
They took her to the sea and put her down on the sand.
Then they went back.
The young girl sat there awaiting her death.
Then she saw a young man coming.
He was a wanderer, who, knew neither father nor mother, and was walking around aimlessly.
"What are you doing here?" said the young man –
"I am awaiting my death. The sea-spirit is coming to devour me." –
"The sea-spirit! What is he, like? I want to stay here and see him." –
"Young man," said the chief's daughter, "go home.
What need of two human lives being destroyed?" – "I have no fear," said the young man.
"I have neither father nor mother.
There is not a single soul in the world that would lament my death.
I shall sit here and wait for the sea-spirit."
He took his place close to the chief's daughter, and said to her,
"Louse me a little, and make me sleep!
But if anybody comes, make me get up!"
So he slept, and did not wake until the flood tide set in, and with the flood came the sea-spirit.
He saw the young man, and said with joy, "Ah, good people! this time they brought two people instead of one."
The chief's daughter wanted to rouse the young man; but he slept on, and took no heed of all her nudging and shaking.
So she cried over him and a hot tear trickled down and fell upon his face."
The young man awoke instantly and sprang up. "Ah, ah," said he, "you are already here!"
He attacked the sea-monster, and they fought until late in the evening.
At last the young man grasped the upper jaw of the monster, and tore it off along with the skull.
"Oh, I am tired!" said the young man.
He sat down again and put his head upon the girl's lap. "Louse me again," said he, and she did so.
He went to sleep as before.
One of the herdsmen of the chief came to the shore. He said to the girl,
"Why, you are still alive?" – "I am," said the girl."
And how is it with the sea-spirit?" – "This man has killed him." –
"You lie!" said the herdsman.
"Who will believe that a loitering fellow like this man with no kith or kin, could kill the monster?
It is I who killed the monster."
He drew a knife and stabbed the man.
He threw his body into the sea, and said to the girl, "Thus have I done; and if you contradict me with as much as a word, I shall do the same to you."
She was frightened, and promised to obey him and to say that he had killed the monster.
So he took her by the hand and led her back to her father.
"Here," said he, "I have killed the sea-monster, and saved your only daughter from death. Your daughter is mine at present." The father was full of joy.
"All right," said he, "take her and marry her."
They arranged a great bridal feast for the next morning.
In the meantime, the chief's daughter called together all the girls of the village, and they prepared a large drag-net, as large as the sea itself.
They cast it into the sea and dragged it along the shore, and then right across the sea.
They toiled and toiled the whole night long, and in the morning at dawn they caught the body of her rescuer.
"Here it is," said the chief's daughter.
"This man saved me from the monster, and the herdsman stabbed him in his sleep.
Now I shall stab myself, so that both of us may have one common funeral." –
"Do not do so," said one of her companions. "I know a rock not far from here.
From under that rock comes a stream of water, scalding hot, but good for healing all kinds of wounds."
She went to the rock with a stone bottle and fetched some of the water.
They washed the wound with it, and, lo! the youth came to life again.
The girl took him by the hand and led him to her father.
"This is the man who saved me.
The other one is a traitor and an impostor."
So they killed the herdsman,
the young man married the girl, and they lived there.
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