We live in the US and just got back from a spring break trip to Paris. My wife and I have two daughters ages 5 and 7, in Pre-K and 1st Grade. I have been to Paris a few times but this was my first time with a family. Before we left, I read a lot of posts, reviews and tips for traveling with kids so wanted to share my experience.
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Our trip was March 9-17 spending 5 nights in the 10th near Canal St Martin, then 2 nights at Disneyland Paris’ Sequoia Lodge.
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Prepping tips: We did some shopping beforehand, wanted to have nice outfits for Paris, dress up a little bit, etc.. Well just about all our pictures are in the same coats. At least for the winter or shoulder seasons, if I was to do it again I would have bought a nicer coat. We also bought everyone umbrellas but then never felt like carrying them when we went out for the day.
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I have a iPhone 13 that allows an eSim. Before we left I downloaded the Orange app and signed up for their Orange Holiday Europe 20GB for 39.99 €. When we landed in CDG I switched on cellular for that line and had great service the entire stay using Google Maps and social media the whole time without issue.
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Download the Flash Invader app, there is a street artist named Invader who makes small tile mosaics of arcade looking creatures. It’s like a scavenger hunt to find them. Kids had a blast searching for them as we wandered the different areas of the city earning points for each one we “flashed”.
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Flight to Paris: We left our home airport Thursday evening and connected in Atlanta for ATL-CDG on Air France. It was the redeye leaving at 8:15pm arriving at 10:40am Friday. Flew economy on an Airbus A350-900 with 3-3-3 configuration. We had a window and a middle in back to back rows, my wife and I each sat by the window with a daughter next to us. Seats were nice, bigger than domestic economy with a large entertainment screen and USB outlet for charging. A small blanket, pillow and headphones were on each seat. We preordered the girls' kids meals which were served before everyone else, which was a nice touch. Kids meal was orange juice, water, bread, small cheese, fruit cup, chicken in a tomato sauce with mashed potatoes and chocolate chip cake. They watched movies from when they got on until they finished eating. We took them to the bathroom, gave them a melatonin gummy and they slept a good 5 hrs before a small breakfast was served. Leading up to the trip we were worried about how they would do on a long flight but it was fine, no issues at all.
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CDG Ground Transportation: No kids, the train is quick and easy. With kids, we opted for a taxi. Our girls weren’t much help with the luggage so it was better to just go door to door in a cab. I know a little French but had the apartment address printed out for the driver. He took it, put the address in his GPS and handed it back to me. I tried to make a little small talk but he wasn’t having it. Oh well. 55 flat fee. I gave him 60 and he seemed appreciative.
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Intro: I would describe my wife and I as foodies, we like trying new restaurants and different things. This was not the trip for that. Main goal was keeping the girls happy and engaged. It was a busy week, we left each morning around 9-10am and didn't get back home until 10pm. We averaged 22,000 steps per day.
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Friday 3/10: walked around our neighborhood Canal St Martin, had some crepes and took a nap. For dinner we tried to go to Brasserie Bellanger but girls didn’t see anything on the menu they would eat. Tired and hungry we wound up at Hippopotamus across from Gare du Nord, don’t judge us, it’s like a French Applebees/TGI Fridays. They have a kids menu and locations around Paris.
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Saturday 3/11: up early, my youngest daughter and I walked to Sain Boulangerie for fresh baked croissants and pain au chocolat. Paris doesn't do early, it was almost 8am and we couldn’t find an open coffee shop. Went back to the apartment and used the Nespresso machine. Croissants were amazing.
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Took the Metro to Place d’Italie in the 13th. When I was in high school I did an exchange with a host family near there and wanted to check it out. There is a really nice public park with a playground and small carousel, Parc de Choisy, where the girls could get some energy out. Walking back to the Metro there was an outdoor market set up along Av. d’Italie with antiques, clothes and household goods. We then took the Metro to Arts et Metiers and walked around the Marais stopping at Caractère de Cochon to pick up sandwiches for lunch. There is a Franprix around the corner where we picked up drinks and chips then walked to Place de la République to have our little picnic. Sandwiches were amazing. They were actually setting up for a labor rally/protest at République, with a big police presence, but no one bothered us.
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Saturday evening we had tickets for the 5:30pm tour at Les Pavillons de Bercy - Musée des Arts Forains. Tour was in French but the guide would give us a sentence or two at each stop in English so we could follow along. Neat museum which the kids really liked. We got to play some games and ride three different carousels. After the tour we went to Food Society near Montparnasse for dinner. It’s a food hall with a lot of options: kids had pizza, my wife had Korean and I had Tapas; they also have a cocktail bar.
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Sunday 3/12: full day knocking out the tourist sites on the hop on/hop off Big Bus with the Paris Museum Pass. We started at Sainte Chapelle at 9:30am, walked past Notre Dame then took the bus to the Arc de Triomphe. Climbed the stairs to the top which offered a great view. Had lunch at McDonalds on the Champs-Elysees then back on the bus to the Eiffel Tower. There we had pre bought summit tickets and went to the top. After that we again took the bus to the Louvre and ran through there seeing the Mona Lisa and other highlights until close.
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Tired and hungry we went back towards our apartment and ate at Aca, a decent Mexican restaurant.
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Monday 3/13: started the day at Carton Paris to try the 2022 winner for best butter croissant. Then to Montmrate and rode the Carrousel de Saint-Pierre and then the Funiculaire up to tour Sacre-Coeur. Walked down behind the cathedral and picked up some sandwiches, cheese and baguettes and took the metro to Parc de Belleville for a picnic. Kids enjoyed it but the neighborhood was not the best. From there we wanted to have a drink so headed to La Felicità, which is a hipster food hall. It was great. We could sit and have a couple drinks without bothering anyone. After that we went up to Les Halles and sat in Jardin Nelson Mandela, having a couple beers from a nearby convenience store while the girls played. Then we walked to Saint-Paul to try and ride the carousel there but it was closing as we walked up. Ended up at an Italian restaurant across the street Pizza Momo for dinner which wasn’t bad.
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Tuesday 3/14: in the morning we went to La Villette for Cité des sciences et de l'industrie. Behind the museum is a nice kids playground, Jardin du Dragon, with a pretty amazing slide. Afterwards we went back down to the Marais to walk around and pick up things for lunch before our cooking class. At 3pm we had a private class reserved to make macarons at La Cuisine Paris. Chef was great and we had a lot of fun making and sampling macarons! Since this was our last night in the city we went back to the Eiffel Tower to see it sparkle at night and take a river cruise along the Seine, the Big Bus ticket we had came with passes for Bateaux Parisiens.
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Wednesday 3/15: in the morning we left for Disneyland Paris. We used Uber setting up a van on their app the night before. It was an expensive option at 120 € for the van but well worth it (I think an UberX was around 70 €). Van was out front at 7:30am and took us right to the Disneyland Sequoia Hotel. Again, no kids probably would have just taken the train. We dropped our bags, checked in (room wasn’t ready), and headed to Disneyland Park for the day. We were there all day from open to close and had a great time. The Lion King show was excellent, the girls loved the parade/dance party and we did almost every ride. We ate at Captain Jack’s which is a restaurant inside the Pirates of the Caribbean.
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Thursday 3/16: we spent the day at the other park Walt Disney Studios. This one has a Toy Story area, more shoes and a whole Marvel sections. For dinner we ate at Bistrot Chez Remy next to the Ratatouille ride which was fun. After some shopping we watched the Marvel themed night show.
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Friday 3/17: long trek home. Set up a van on Uber again the night before. It was there waiting for us at 7:15am to take us to CDG. Price again was steep at over 100 € but stress free. With a little weather delay, CDG-ATL was 9hrs 37min. Long flight but we watched movies and napped, exhausted from a long week.
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All in all it was the best family vacation we’ve had to date.

M(22) F(21)Okay so one night a few days ago. I was drinking with a few of my buddy’s at his house. And somehow the topic of going to Applebees came up so we ordered and Uber to Applebees. We were all drinking having a good time when all my buddy’s got up and got into someone’s car so I followed and we ended up and a strip club. Me now being blackout drunk doesn’t remember anything in there but apparently I got a lap dance from a stripper and then got picked up and left. Now my girlfriend has found out about it and she says “if you want to act single then you can be single”. We still talk everyday all day and sometimes call each other but she said tonight “she doesn’t think she can trust me not to do it again” which I understand now I’m just looking for advice on how I can fix this because she is literally my world and the best thing that has happened to me in a long time and I really don’t want to lose her. So what would you do?
Edit: I know I made a horrible decision and there’s no excuse for it but. after reading all these comments I will update all of you on what ends up happening,

“This present moment never comes to be, and it never ceases to be, it is simply our minds that construct the continuity of thoughts we call time.”- Alan Watts
Chapter 1-
Standing in line, rapidly tapping his foot, he quickly shifted his gaze from the five people standing in front of him to his watch. It was 8:33 AM. If these damn people don’t hurry up, I'm gonna be late, he thought to himself. Coffee was a necessity though; he couldn’t just up and leave.
He ran a hand through his silky, rich auburn hair, and looked around the room. Something felt out of place. Towards the shop's front, a painting, illuminated by the morning rays that pierced through the big windows that took up the majority of the wall, showed a melting clock in an alien landscape with towering mountains in the background. It reminded him of a painting by Salvador Dali. It was a nice painting, but it really didn’t fit with the other paintings of natural landscapes and peaceful-
Groggily, he let out a piercing yawn that made him tear up a little. He needed that coffee. He took a look at his watch- 8:36. Only one person to go and he would finally place his order. This was his favorite coffee shop. Starbucks could never compete with the quality of service and product provided by Coffee Shop. It was conveniently located a block away from his apartment. Not to mention the unique and eye-catching name of the place. Coffee Shop. Has a nice ring to it.
“Goodmorning Horace, the usual?” the barista behind the counter said to him.
“Yup,” he confirmed.
She whipped around, swinging her blonde ponytail as she went to complete the order. He took another glance at his watch. It was 8:38. He had twenty-two minutes to get to work. He stood there for about a minute and watched her complete his order, mixing the espresso with the almond milk and creamy chocolate syrup that made his mouth water.
“Here you go, one chocolate mocha.” she said as she slipped the drink into a coffee cup sleeve and handed it to him.
He reached out to grab it. “Thanks Katy, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He turned and did a speed walk towards the door. If he wanted to make it to work on time, he’d have to move fast. He walked outside, into the heat emitted from the great ball of fire in the sky, only intensified by the tight suit he wore (his only suit as a matter of fact), walked towards his 2006 Nissan Sentra parked on the far end of the lot, unlocked it and hopped into the driver’s seat, putting the coffee in the cup holder, which wouldn’t have fit it had the cup just been one inch wider in diameter. The car’s clock read 8:40. If he sped, he’d make it on time. He turned the keys in the ignition and drove off to work.
He worked at a firm. Of what, he had no idea. He couldn’t be bothered to care. He only showed up to work, did what he was told, went back home, and that was that. All he knew was not to piss off the boss. You don’t want to piss off the boss.
Two years ago, he saw an ad online for a job at Gnome Solutions, and he fit the requirements, so why not? Fresh out of college with a bachelor’s degree in business administration, he really didn’t care where he worked, as long as he was getting paid. Big mistake.
He pulled into the parking lot at 9:02. Damn it, he thought. I hope the boss isn’t mad. He stepped outside the car, leaving the empty coffee cup behind, and laid his eyes the building. It was three stories tall, it’s walls a light gray with windows planted evenly next to one another. Two large words stood on top of the building for everyone who drove past to feast their eyes on.
“Gnome Solutions” he muttered to himself as he approached the building. “Stupid name isn’t it? Yup.” He stepped through the door.
He was greeted with an excited face beaming at him, accompanied by a young man he’d never met. “Horry buddy! Late for the second time this week? Save the jacking off for after work won’t yah?”
His boss’ name was Hank Ross. He was a man of about forty, pushing fifty, with a receding hairline, the remaining hair almost fully gray, and a field of wrinkles on his forehead. Must be the stress.
“Boss, I’m only two minutes late.” Horace pleaded.
“That’s right Horry! Two minutes of wasted time! Why don’t you make yourself useful and show our new addition to the team around our beautiful building?” he said as he motioned at the room that they stood in. There wasn’t much beautiful about it. The walls were gray and empty, save the clock placed perfectly centered behind the receptionist’s desk. One pot with a small cactus on the right side of the desk was the only real decoration in the room.
Hank put his hand on the new man’s right shoulder. “Horry, meet Damien, Damien, meet Horry.”
“Welcome to the team Damien.” Horace said. He extended a greeting hand to Damien, and after a split second of contemplation, he reluctantly raised his hand and weakly shook.
“Yeah.” Damien replied weakly.
Damien looked to be in his early twenties. Most likely, he was fresh out of college. He had a head of curly dark brown hair, verging on black, yet still distinguishably brown. He was relatively short, probably a good 5’5, but he was a good looking young man, almost perfectly symmetrical face, yet something seemed off about Damien. He didn’t seem as if his body housed an actual soul. There was an aura of emptiness he gave off, as if inside his mind was a barren wasteland, lacking any originality or creativity. As Horace looked into his eyes, it seemed as though Damien wasn’t looking back into his, but piercing through them, and looking beyond.
“Damien’s going to be working out of cubicle 4D, do me a favor and escort him over.” commanded Hank. “Don’t get yourselves into any trouble! And Horace, I want those Hutchison papers filed by today, you hear?”
“Yes sir.” replied Horace, and then turning to Damien, “Ok follow me.”
As they walked through the hallway that led from the reception area to the office, Horace could hear the door to the “employee elevator” opening behind them as Hank walked into it. It was somewhat ironic that it was titled the “employee elevator” considering the only person allowed to use it was the boss.
“So, Damien, where are you from?” Horace questioned as they walked by the cubicles.
“Not here” Damien replied.
“Oh.” Horace said to himself. Something about this man’s demeanor was unsettling.
He proceeded to show him around the office and showed him where all the amenities were located- the bathroom, the coffee maker, the... That was pretty much as far as it went where amenities were concerned. Finally, he showed him where he would be working.
“Alright Damien. 4D. This is your spot. If you need anything I’ll be at 17D just over there.” he pointed to the other side of the room by the bathrooms.
“Thanks.” replied Damien, taking a seat at his desk and making no eye contact and staring at the direction Horace was pointing. He shifted his gaze towards his desk, where the blank PC monitor stared back at him, and then picked up a stray paper clip that was left behind and stored it in the desk’s built in drawer.
A man of few words, Horace thought to himself as he walked off to get those Hutchison papers in motion. He sat down at his desk, opened the file cabinet and scanned through the names with his index finger. Hart, Herrera, Hutchison. There it was. He took out the file, opened it up, and got to work.
Chapter 2-
Finally, after a long week of exhausting work and dealing with Hank’s extensive bullshit, he was free. Free for two days, at least. Free from the irritating voice of his boss. Free from the truckloads of paper he would have to skim through on the daily. Free from the crappy free Wi-Fi he had to use because no service bandwidth would dare penetrate the mundane gray walls of the building and be exposed to the pure boredom laying within. He was free from the strange and uncomfortable presence of Damien. Ever since Damien showed up at Gnome Solutions that Monday, things have been somewhat odd. He would see Damien everywhere he went, and Damien would see him. When he was getting coffee in the kitchen, there was Damien, waiting in line behind him, or sitting at the small table peaking glimpses of him in between sips of coffee. When he was pissing, there was Damien, pissing in the urinal beside him. When he was working, Damien would be analyzing his every move, while simultaneously completing the work of his own. When he tried to talk to him, he would, without fail, give the shortest reply possible, void of any human emotion. Damien was a strange man to say the least. But now was no time to let Damien occupy his mind; he had more important things to attend to.
He opened the door to his small apartment, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and leaned back on the brown leather sofa. He had a date with a strong independent young woman named Amanda later that night at 7. She was 26, one year his senior and he met her online; on Tinder to be exact. She seemed like the perfect match. She had to be. After the 6th Tinder date this month, she was surely the one, and if she wasn’t, he’d decided he would delete Tinder for good. If this good for nothing app couldn’t find the right matches, there was no use in having it installed. His last date, Sofia, was a lying, self-obsessed maniac. As they were finishing their meal at the Applebee's down the street, just last Sunday, she asked him “You are paying for this right?”
As these words entered his ears and were processed by his brain, he looked up from his bowl of bacon mac n’ cheese and stared her dead in the eye. “What makes you think that? Why does every woman think I should be paying for their damn meal? It’s Applebee’s for Christ's sake, not a five-star restaurant. You can afford to pay your share.”
“Oh sorry. I’m just used to the man paying every time I’m on a date.” she replied, feeling attacked.
“Well maybe you should get used to paying your fair share and it’ll teach you to appreciate your money. Maybe you’ll even start eating less, God knows you need it.”
The night ended with her sobbing on the curb waiting for her Uber with Horace crouching next to her as he tried to consolidate her. “Look Sofia, I was only offering some constructive criticism. You look like you could benefit from shedding a few pounds. Maybe start a diet or get a gym membership.”
“Shut the hell up asshole! Get away from me!” she yelled at him as her teardrops struck the asphalt one by one, drowning a few small ants in the process.
“Sofia, I-”
“I said get the hell away from me! What don’t you understand?” she wailed as the waterfall of tears flowed down her pale face, taking the eyeshadow with it.
“Alright then, fuck you.” Horace told her. “Maybe if you weren’t such a damn catfish and actually looked like yourself on your fake ass profile, I would’ve never swiped right on you, and we could’ve avoided this whole situation you lying bitch.”
She began to sob even harder at hearing these words. He left her on the curb crying and drove back to his apartment complex just down the street.
Harsh words? Maybe, but she definitely deserved it. Tonight would be different though. He could feel it. They would be going to the movies, followed by bowling at the place by his work. He hadn’t been back there since that incident in high school, but he missed the place. It would be perfect. He glanced at his watch- 5:48. He had an hour to get ready, so he finished his beer, put the empty bottle on his glass tabletop, lifted himself up using the worn armrests, and walked into his room. He pulled out of his closet a white polo shirt and a pair of blue jeans and set them on the bed. He would be wearing his 2-year-old pair of tan colored Sperry's. The perfect outfit.
As he showered, he thought of how he’d introduce himself when he picked up his date. “Hello Amanda, I’m Horace.” he said out loud, extending a hand to nothing. He shook his head and picked up the bar of soap. “Well of course she knows that’s your name it’s on your damn profile.” As he lathered soap all over his body, he wondered if the problem may be his profile. What if his profile was the reason his matches never worked out? He immediately disregarded the idea. His profile was perfect. He constructed it with thought and precision. The first thing one would see when they came across his profile was a picture of him posing with a cute Pomeranian puppy at the park. He hated dogs, but the ladies sure didn’t, so he had gone to the park and asked random strangers to snap a frame of him with their dogs. The Pomeranian was the best one. In his bio he described himself as compassionate, adventurous, and fun, all admirable qualities. He even mentioned the fact that he worked out, which wasn’t a complete lie, and gave him the excuse of posting a gym selfie as the second picture. At the time of making the profile, he had just started going to the gym, given he only went for-
The doorbell rang.
Who the fuck, Horace thought. “I’ll be right there!” he yelled as he cut off the water flow and stepped out of the shower. He hurriedly dried his body with the towel, wrapped it around his waist, and stumbled over to the closed door, leaving wet footprints on the wood tiled floor. He put a hand on the door and gazed through the peephole and bounced back when he saw who was there. Fucking Damien. What was Damien doing here? How did Damien even find out where he lived? This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Was this even real? He put his right eye to the small hole that connected his room with the outside world once again. He saw a singular, brown eye looking into his, or rather, looking past it. Looking into the nothing.
“What do you want Damien?” he asked from his side of the wooden barrier.
From the other side came a robotic voice. “Horace Dolen.”
“Yup that’s me, now what do you want?” His uneasiness began to rise, along with his blood pressure. The muscles that made up his heart began to pump blood through his system faster. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, joining the drops of water left over from his shower. His eye stayed fixed on the empty eye on the other side. Damien slowly backed away from the door and bent below Horace’s range of vision. He stepped away from the door as well, mentally bracing himself for the worst.
“What the hell do you want Damien?” he anxiously uttered with a shaky voice not quite loud enough for Damien to hear. Just then, an envelope slipped under the door. He stood frozen in position, staring at the white paper. On it was written his name- Horace Dolen. He heard heavy, but rapid footsteps hurrying down the hall, decreasing in volume until his ears could no longer register them. He looked through the peephole once more. Empty. Did he dare open the door to make sure? What if it was all a trick to get him to open up? He decided to wait it out and bent over to examine the envelope. He brushed his fingers over the smooth white paper where his name was inscribed in permanent marker and picked it up.
Sitting on his brown, leather sofa, still wrapped in his towel, he tore open the envelope, and took out a white piece of paper folded in half. In it, scrawled in messy handwriting, also with permanent marker, read “Meet me behind the bowling alley. You’ll know when.”
“What the fuck.” Horace said out loud. In a panic, he ripped up the note and threw it away in the kitchen trashcan. He looked over at the microwave. The time read 6:30. Almost time to go. Physically, he went about getting ready for his date. Mentally, his mind spiraled down a rabbit hole of fear and anxiety, yet curiosity and wonder. How the hell could he have known he was going to be at the bowling alley. He’d told no one of his plans, not even Amanda. Why did he want to meet back there anyway? He has the chance to speak to him any day at work. Should he accept the offer? No. For all he knew he was some psychopathic killer who wanted to get him alone to rip out his organs and sell them on the dark web. But he knew he would be there. Wasn’t that fact already dangerous? If he knew he would be there, where else would he know he would be?
“Don’t worry about it.” he told himself. “Just worry about the date. Nothing is gonna ruin this night.” He could tell himself that as much as he wanted to, but deep down, he wasn’t convinced. What else could he do though? The only viable option was to move forward, because no matter how bad we want to, we can never move backwards. Whatever’s going to happen is going to happen, and nothing can change that. He came to terms with this fact long ago.
Chapter 3-
“Hello Amanda, I’m Horace.”
“I know that silly! It says it on your profile.” She gave a heartfelt chuckle
They stood at the door of her condo under the protective cover of the front porch. The rain was pounding on every solid surface around. It hadn’t rained this hard since spring. At least they wouldn’t have to worry about it; they’d be inside for the majority of the date. Horace stood soaked, holding a bouquet of flowers that look picked straight from a rainbow, the light dancing on the drops of water that covered them. She was wearing blue jeans and a
“Well, these are for you.” He handed her the bunch of flowers and she grabbed them as her eyes gave off a certain twinkle. It struck him as a bit familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“Oh, thank you so much Horace. I love them.” Her smile brightened as she took the flowers, and she enthusiastically went in for a sniff. She paused and her smile dimmed. “Wait. These are plastic.”
“Well, yeah. Last girl I brought flowers to almost died of asphyxiation, so I wasn’t taking any chances.”
Her smile returned, accompanied by a genuine laughter. “Aww. It’s the thought that counts right?”
“Right.” he replied. “Look I have a great night planned out, so let’s get to it shall we?”
“Lead the way sir.”
As Horace drove them to the theatre, Amanda was busy examining his car. Her finger traced the AC vent, and she turned it to direct the air towards her face. “What year is this car?”
“It’s a 2006 Nissan Sentra. I’ve had it since college and I’ll continue to have it until it erodes into dust or explodes.”
She chuckled and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “You’re funny Horace! You really are!”
“Thanks. I just don’t see the point in wasting my money on another car. There are so many better uses I could be putting my money towards.” That was mostly true. She didn’t have to know that he also couldn’t buy a new car if he wanted to, considering his financial situation. Gnome Solutions didn’t pay well.
“That’s a good way to look at things. I wish I could stick to a mindset like that.” A bolt of lightning ignited in a distant cloud, glowing up the darkening sky. The sound of the quiet thunder reached their ears moments later. “What do you do anyway?”
Shit. That was a good question. What did he do? Well, he worked for Gnome Solutions of course. But what exactly did he do? File papers? Why? “I work for a company called gnome solutions.”
She leaned in looking at his face as he focused on the road in front of him. She could notice the light stubble starting to form on his face. “That sounds interesting. What do you do there?”
She just had to go and ask that. Of course, she did. “Well, we’ve been working on some stuff that technically the public’s not supposed to know about. Kind of classified in a way.” he said proudly. Great excuse.
“Wow. We have a mysterious man on our hands.” she laughed. “You can tell me a little bit though, can’t you? Just a hint?”
He took a sharp inhale. “Nope sorry. Maybe when I know you better.”
She rolled her eyes. “If you say so.”
As they pulled up into the theatre parking lot, another lightning bolt struck, this time nearby, directly followed by an almost deafening boom. They ran through the rain, getting soaked, their socks absorbing the puddles of water like sponges, and barged through the clear doors of the theatre. The movie portion of the date went smoothly. She was enjoying herself. That was good. The only problem was that he wasn’t enjoying himself. Not with the thought of Damien constantly gnawing at the forefront of him mind. He sat next to her watching the movie, or rather looking at the movie. His mind was too busy watching the various scenarios playing out in his head trying to explain what the fuck was going on.
After the movie, they went to the bowling alley. “Hey, Horace.” she said as she tapped him on the shoulder and then pointed outside to a particular gray, bleak building with a grid of windows plating the walls. “Didn’t you say you worked there? Gnome Solutions?”
“Yup, that’s the place.” he said as he turned into the only open parking space, which was conveniently located as far away as possible from the main entrance. Once again, they stepped out of the Nissan, and ran through the rain, which was pouring harder than it had been all night. More lightning sparked up the distant clouds.
Amanda was a pro at bowling. But no one could possibly be as good as him. He’d been coming to this same place ever since his high school days.
“Ha! Beat that!” she shouted as she made a strike on her first throw of the game.
“Beginner's luck.” he said smugly. Hopefully his muscle memory would kick in. He stood up from his tall stool at the round table and walked over to the bowling machine, his body loose and ready to bowl. He looked for his lucky green ball, but no luck. That green ball would always guarantee him to be victorious at the end of the night, except for that night that his life changed forever. He remembered it clearly; it was permanently engrained in his memory.
“C'mon bro, you gotta get us this win.” Jake had told him that night eight years ago.
“You know I will.” Horace told him smugly
The crowd of friends stood behind and watched with anticipation as Horace strolled over to the bowling machine, rubbed his hands together, and picked up a green ball. He gazed deeply into the green ball, carefully feeling the weight and feeling for the scratch by one of the holes. Yup, this was it.
“No way he makes it.” said Henry, a member of the opposite team.
“I bet he will. Haven’t you seen how he’s been playing? He’s crazy good.” said Sofia to her teammate.
“Yeah well guess what? He may be good but he doesn’t deserve the win. He’s arrogant and cocky, I’ve been seeing it all night.” he said while looking fixedly at Horace holding the ball.
“What the hell is your problem with him? It’s been all night with the constant attacks. If you hate him that much you shouldn’t have come.” she told him sternly.
“Why are you defending him so much is he your damn boyfriend or something?”
“No he’s my friend, and I don’t appreciate it when people talk like that about my friends.”
There was a short pause as they watched Horace walking up to the alley, ready to shoot.
“You know I could be an even better friend, right Sofi?”
“With the way you’ve been acting? Doubt it.” She passed him a side eyed glance.
His gaze went cold.
Just as Horace was getting ready to roll his lucky ball down the isle, two large hands struck him from behind and knocked him off his feet. The ball slipped from his hands, and his face was on a direct course to it. His nose and mouth struck the ball, and his neck jerked backwards. After that, he blacked out for a few seconds, but quickly regained his consciousness and sprung up like a wack-a-mole. Everyone was surrounding him, flashing concerned faces and asking if he was okay. Sofia was in the middle of yelling at Henry by the tables.
“You’re such a fucking asshole you know that?”
“I really didn’t mean to I just wanted to mess him up!” he pleaded.
“Excuses get you nowhere. Just leave.”
“Sorry but I’m staying right here Sofi.”
“So you did this?” Horace asked him as he walked up to the table, his face leaking blood from the nose and mouth and soaking over onto his light blue T-shirt, ball in his hands. Rage filled his eyes. It filled his soul. He didn’t usually get angry, but when he did, he really got angry.
“Look man, I really didn’t mean to knock you onto the ground, I only wanted to make you stumble.”
“Make me stumble?” Horace half laughed. “Make me stumble huh?” He broke into a full fit of laughter, and suddenly lifted his lucky ball in the air above him and brought it down on Henry’s skull.
“Horace?”
Henry’s body struck the floor. Everyone around him screamed.
“Horace.”
A puddle of blood slowly began to form around his head. Horace dropped the ball, eyes wide open in shock, realizing what he had done.
“Horace!” Amanda yelled.
“Huh?” he whipped his head around with a confused look on his face as he snapped out of his daydream.
“Are you going to play or not?”
“Oh yeah, sorry.” He settled for a teal colored ball, and picked it up. Close enough. Three isles over, a man yelled, and Horace quickly spun his head over to see what was going on. A man was jumping around, ecstatically high fiving his friends. He was celebrating.
“Actually,” Horace began to tell Amanda as he put the ball back down, “I think I need to go use the bathroom real quick, I’ll be right back.”
“Oh c’mon at least shoot it before you go!”
But Horace was already walking away. He needed fresh air, and he needed it now. He felt terrible. His head pounded, and he was practically melting from the heat. It wasn’t this hot when he got here. He made for the back door of the place, so as not to hang around by any crowds. He needed peace and quiet.
He opened the door and stepped outside into the rain, completely disregarding the fact that he was being completely drenched by the plummeting raindrops. He went over to where the big green trash bin stood against the wall, and sat down, leaning on it for comfort. His ass was soaked, but that didn’t matter. The rain was cooling him down. He closed his eyes, and felt his body start to relax. His heart rate lowered little by little, and his mind began to wander. It wandered to the past. It wandered to the future. It never seemed to wander in the present. The mind seems to want to avoid the present.
“I knew you’d come.” came a robotic voice from above him.
He looked up and laid his eyes upon a dark figure standing over him. His face hid in the shadows.
“Huh?” Horace confusedly muttered as his brain tried to recognize the person standing over him. Then it all came to him.
“You know exactly who I am Horace. Stand up. We need to speak.”
He carefully stood up, holding on to the garbage bin for support, and met eyes with Damien. Why was he talking like this? He’d rarely ever heard Damien talk and now suddenly this? There was something seriously wrong with this man. He spoke, yes, but he still displayed that deep and empty stare.
“What do you want from me?”
“All I want is a few minutes of your time. This is important. Maybe the most important thing to ever happen to you.”
Horace said nothing and continued to stare into Damien’s eyes without breaking. His body shivered, whether from the rain or fear, he didn’t know. Maybe it was both. Suddenly, a thought popped up in Horace’s head. He’s here to kill him. He had to get out of there.
“Look Damien, I don’t want shit to do with you, okay?” he said as he turned to open the door that led inside. “Just leave me alone, will you?”
A small, but firm hand grasped around his forearm. “I’m afraid I can’t until this is over. I need you to take this.” Damien moved in front of the door to block Horace’s way in and began to reach into his coat pocket.
Horace instantly turned around and ran into the dark, rainy night. He sprinted towards the fence, splashing his pant legs with water, and in one quick, fluid motion, made his way over the fence. He was in the parking lot of Gnome Solutions. He turned around and looked at the fence, waiting for the inevitable moment that Damien would come tumbling over. But it never came. He must’ve given up. Perfect. He had a date to get back to anyway. He looked over to his right at the depleting night time traffic and made his way to the sidewalk. Suddenly, Damien leapt out from seemingly nowhere and grabbed Horace by the shoulders.
“I said this isn’t over until you take this!” he yelled into Horace’s face as he began to struggle.
He tried punching Damien, but he dodged it perfectly. He tried a kick, but Damien moved out of the way effortlessly.
“Fuck!” Horace screamed at the top of his lungs. No matter how hard he tried to hit Damien, he would dodge it successfully. It was almost as if he knew what was coming. No matter what elbow, punch, knee, kick, or head-butt he threw, Damien would move out of the way or block it with ease. Just as he was becoming hopeless, Damien let go of him and jumped up on his feet. He walked onto the empty street, and turned to look at Horace, who still lay on the wet concrete. They made eye contact, and a light began to creep up in the distance. A horn began to honk. The driver pressed on the horn repeatedly. Damien continued looking into Horace’s eyes without saying a word. The oncoming truck swerved to the left, but Damien was one step ahead as always, and jumped in front of it at the last second, ending his own life in the process. Horace stood there, staring.

“This present moment never comes to be, and it never ceases to be, it is simply our minds that construct the continuity of thoughts we call time.”- Alan Watts
Chapter 1-
Standing in line, rapidly tapping his foot, he quickly shifted his gaze from the five people standing in front of him to his watch. It was 8:33 AM. If these damn people don’t hurry up, I'm gonna be late, he thought to himself. Coffee was a necessity though; he couldn’t just up and leave.
He ran a hand through his silky, rich auburn hair, and looked around the room. Something felt out of place. Towards the shop's front, a painting, illuminated by the morning rays that pierced through the big windows that took up the majority of the wall, showed a melting clock in an alien landscape with towering mountains in the background. It reminded him of a painting by Salvador Dali. It was a nice painting, but it really didn’t fit with the other paintings of natural landscapes and peaceful-
Groggily, he let out a piercing yawn that made him tear up a little. He needed that coffee. He took a look at his watch- 8:36. Only one person to go and he would finally place his order. This was his favorite coffee shop. Starbucks could never compete with the quality of service and product provided by Coffee Shop. It was conveniently located a block away from his apartment. Not to mention the unique and eye-catching name of the place. Coffee Shop. Has a nice ring to it.
“Goodmorning Horace, the usual?” the barista behind the counter said to him.
“Yup,” he confirmed.
She whipped around, swinging her blonde ponytail as she went to complete the order. He took another glance at his watch. It was 8:38. He had twenty-two minutes to get to work. He stood there for about a minute and watched her complete his order, mixing the espresso with the almond milk and creamy chocolate syrup that made his mouth water.
“Here you go, one chocolate mocha.” she said as she slipped the drink into a coffee cup sleeve and handed it to him.
He reached out to grab it. “Thanks Katy, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He turned and did a speed walk towards the door. If he wanted to make it to work on time, he’d have to move fast. He walked outside, into the heat emitted from the great ball of fire in the sky, only intensified by the tight suit he wore (his only suit as a matter of fact), walked towards his 2006 Nissan Sentra parked on the far end of the lot, unlocked it and hopped into the driver’s seat, putting the coffee in the cup holder, which wouldn’t have fit it had the cup just been one inch wider in diameter. The car’s clock read 8:40. If he sped, he’d make it on time. He turned the keys in the ignition and drove off to work.
He worked at a firm. Of what, he had no idea. He couldn’t be bothered to care. He only showed up to work, did what he was told, went back home, and that was that. All he knew was not to piss off the boss. You don’t want to piss off the boss.
Two years ago, he saw an ad online for a job at Gnome Solutions, and he fit the requirements, so why not? Fresh out of college with a bachelor’s degree in business administration, he really didn’t care where he worked, as long as he was getting paid. Big mistake.
He pulled into the parking lot at 9:02. Damn it, he thought. I hope the boss isn’t mad. He stepped outside the car, leaving the empty coffee cup behind, and laid his eyes the building. It was three stories tall, it’s walls a light gray with windows planted evenly next to one another. Two large words stood on top of the building for everyone who drove past to feast their eyes on.
“Gnome Solutions” he muttered to himself as he approached the building. “Stupid name isn’t it? Yup.” He stepped through the door.
He was greeted with an excited face beaming at him, accompanied by a young man he’d never met. “Horry buddy! Late for the second time this week? Save the jacking off for after work won’t yah?”
His boss’ name was Hank Ross. He was a man of about forty, pushing fifty, with a receding hairline, the remaining hair almost fully gray, and a field of wrinkles on his forehead. Must be the stress.
“Boss, I’m only two minutes late.” Horace pleaded.
“That’s right Horry! Two minutes of wasted time! Why don’t you make yourself useful and show our new addition to the team around our beautiful building?” he said as he motioned at the room that they stood in. There wasn’t much beautiful about it. The walls were gray and empty, save the clock placed perfectly centered behind the receptionist’s desk. One pot with a small cactus on the right side of the desk was the only real decoration in the room.
Hank put his hand on the new man’s right shoulder. “Horry, meet Damien, Damien, meet Horry.”
“Welcome to the team Damien.” Horace said. He extended a greeting hand to Damien, and after a split second of contemplation, he reluctantly raised his hand and weakly shook.
“Yeah.” Damien replied weakly.
Damien looked to be in his early twenties. Most likely, he was fresh out of college. He had a head of curly dark brown hair, verging on black, yet still distinguishably brown. He was relatively short, probably a good 5’5, but he was a good looking young man, almost perfectly symmetrical face, yet something seemed off about Damien. He didn’t seem as if his body housed an actual soul. There was an aura of emptiness he gave off, as if inside his mind was a barren wasteland, lacking any originality or creativity. As Horace looked into his eyes, it seemed as though Damien wasn’t looking back into his, but piercing through them, and looking beyond.
“Damien’s going to be working out of cubicle 4D, do me a favor and escort him over.” commanded Hank. “Don’t get yourselves into any trouble! And Horace, I want those Hutchison papers filed by today, you hear?”
“Yes sir.” replied Horace, and then turning to Damien, “Ok follow me.”
As they walked through the hallway that led from the reception area to the office, Horace could hear the door to the “employee elevator” opening behind them as Hank walked into it. It was somewhat ironic that it was titled the “employee elevator” considering the only person allowed to use it was the boss.
“So, Damien, where are you from?” Horace questioned as they walked by the cubicles.
“Not here” Damien replied.
“Oh.” Horace said to himself. Something about this man’s demeanor was unsettling.
He proceeded to show him around the office and showed him where all the amenities were located- the bathroom, the coffee maker, the... That was pretty much as far as it went where amenities were concerned. Finally, he showed him where he would be working.
“Alright Damien. 4D. This is your spot. If you need anything I’ll be at 17D just over there.” he pointed to the other side of the room by the bathrooms.
“Thanks.” replied Damien, taking a seat at his desk and making no eye contact and staring at the direction Horace was pointing. He shifted his gaze towards his desk, where the blank PC monitor stared back at him, and then picked up a stray paper clip that was left behind and stored it in the desk’s built in drawer.
A man of few words, Horace thought to himself as he walked off to get those Hutchison papers in motion. He sat down at his desk, opened the file cabinet and scanned through the names with his index finger. Hart, Herrera, Hutchison. There it was. He took out the file, opened it up, and got to work.
Chapter 2-
Finally, after a long week of exhausting work and dealing with Hank’s extensive bullshit, he was free. Free for two days, at least. Free from the irritating voice of his boss. Free from the truckloads of paper he would have to skim through on the daily. Free from the crappy free Wi-Fi he had to use because no service bandwidth would dare penetrate the mundane gray walls of the building and be exposed to the pure boredom laying within. He was free from the strange and uncomfortable presence of Damien. Ever since Damien showed up at Gnome Solutions that Monday, things have been somewhat odd. He would see Damien everywhere he went, and Damien would see him. When he was getting coffee in the kitchen, there was Damien, waiting in line behind him, or sitting at the small table peaking glimpses of him in between sips of coffee. When he was pissing, there was Damien, pissing in the urinal beside him. When he was working, Damien would be analyzing his every move, while simultaneously completing the work of his own. When he tried to talk to him, he would, without fail, give the shortest reply possible, void of any human emotion. Damien was a strange man to say the least. But now was no time to let Damien occupy his mind; he had more important things to attend to.
He opened the door to his small apartment, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and leaned back on the brown leather sofa. He had a date with a strong independent young woman named Amanda later that night at 7. She was 26, one year his senior and he met her online; on Tinder to be exact. She seemed like the perfect match. She had to be. After the 6th Tinder date this month, she was surely the one, and if she wasn’t, he’d decided he would delete Tinder for good. If this good for nothing app couldn’t find the right matches, there was no use in having it installed. His last date, Sofia, was a lying, self-obsessed maniac. As they were finishing their meal at the Applebee's down the street, just last Sunday, she asked him “You are paying for this right?”
As these words entered his ears and were processed by his brain, he looked up from his bowl of bacon mac n’ cheese and stared her dead in the eye. “What makes you think that? Why does every woman think I should be paying for their damn meal? It’s Applebee’s for Christ's sake, not a five-star restaurant. You can afford to pay your share.”
“Oh sorry. I’m just used to the man paying every time I’m on a date.” she replied, feeling attacked.
“Well maybe you should get used to paying your fair share and it’ll teach you to appreciate your money. Maybe you’ll even start eating less, God knows you need it.”
The night ended with her sobbing on the curb waiting for her Uber with Horace crouching next to her as he tried to consolidate her. “Look Sofia, I was only offering some constructive criticism. You look like you could benefit from shedding a few pounds. Maybe start a diet or get a gym membership.”
“Shut the hell up asshole! Get away from me!” she yelled at him as her teardrops struck the asphalt one by one, drowning a few small ants in the process.
“Sofia, I-”
“I said get the hell away from me! What don’t you understand?” she wailed as the waterfall of tears flowed down her pale face, taking the eyeshadow with it.
“Alright then, fuck you.” Horace told her. “Maybe if you weren’t such a damn catfish and actually looked like yourself on your fake ass profile, I would’ve never swiped right on you, and we could’ve avoided this whole situation you lying bitch.”
She began to sob even harder at hearing these words. He left her on the curb crying and drove back to his apartment complex just down the street.
Harsh words? Maybe, but she definitely deserved it. Tonight would be different though. He could feel it. They would be going to the movies, followed by bowling at the place by his work. He hadn’t been back there since that incident in high school, but he missed the place. It would be perfect. He glanced at his watch- 5:48. He had an hour to get ready, so he finished his beer, put the empty bottle on his glass tabletop, lifted himself up using the worn armrests, and walked into his room. He pulled out of his closet a white polo shirt and a pair of blue jeans and set them on the bed. He would be wearing his 2-year-old pair of tan colored Sperry's. The perfect outfit.
As he showered, he thought of how he’d introduce himself when he picked up his date. “Hello Amanda, I’m Horace.” he said out loud, extending a hand to nothing. He shook his head and picked up the bar of soap. “Well of course she knows that’s your name it’s on your damn profile.” As he lathered soap all over his body, he wondered if the problem may be his profile. What if his profile was the reason his matches never worked out? He immediately disregarded the idea. His profile was perfect. He constructed it with thought and precision. The first thing one would see when they came across his profile was a picture of him posing with a cute Pomeranian puppy at the park. He hated dogs, but the ladies sure didn’t, so he had gone to the park and asked random strangers to snap a frame of him with their dogs. The Pomeranian was the best one. In his bio he described himself as compassionate, adventurous, and fun, all admirable qualities. He even mentioned the fact that he worked out, which wasn’t a complete lie, and gave him the excuse of posting a gym selfie as the second picture. At the time of making the profile, he had just started going to the gym, given he only went for-
The doorbell rang.
Who the fuck, Horace thought. “I’ll be right there!” he yelled as he cut off the water flow and stepped out of the shower. He hurriedly dried his body with the towel, wrapped it around his waist, and stumbled over to the closed door, leaving wet footprints on the wood tiled floor. He put a hand on the door and gazed through the peephole and bounced back when he saw who was there. Fucking Damien. What was Damien doing here? How did Damien even find out where he lived? This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Was this even real? He put his right eye to the small hole that connected his room with the outside world once again. He saw a singular, brown eye looking into his, or rather, looking past it. Looking into the nothing.
“What do you want Damien?” he asked from his side of the wooden barrier.
From the other side came a robotic voice. “Horace Dolen.”
“Yup that’s me, now what do you want?” His uneasiness began to rise, along with his blood pressure. The muscles that made up his heart began to pump blood through his system faster. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, joining the drops of water left over from his shower. His eye stayed fixed on the empty eye on the other side. Damien slowly backed away from the door and bent below Horace’s range of vision. He stepped away from the door as well, mentally bracing himself for the worst.
“What the hell do you want Damien?” he anxiously uttered with a shaky voice not quite loud enough for Damien to hear. Just then, an envelope slipped under the door. He stood frozen in position, staring at the white paper. On it was written his name- Horace Dolen. He heard heavy, but rapid footsteps hurrying down the hall, decreasing in volume until his ears could no longer register them. He looked through the peephole once more. Empty. Did he dare open the door to make sure? What if it was all a trick to get him to open up? He decided to wait it out and bent over to examine the envelope. He brushed his fingers over the smooth white paper where his name was inscribed in permanent marker and picked it up.
Sitting on his brown, leather sofa, still wrapped in his towel, he tore open the envelope, and took out a white piece of paper folded in half. In it, scrawled in messy handwriting, also with permanent marker, read “Meet me behind the bowling alley. You’ll know when.”
“What the fuck.” Horace said out loud. In a panic, he ripped up the note and threw it away in the kitchen trashcan. He looked over at the microwave. The time read 6:30. Almost time to go. Physically, he went about getting ready for his date. Mentally, his mind spiraled down a rabbit hole of fear and anxiety, yet curiosity and wonder. How the hell could he have known he was going to be at the bowling alley. He’d told no one of his plans, not even Amanda. Why did he want to meet back there anyway? He has the chance to speak to him any day at work. Should he accept the offer? No. For all he knew he was some psychopathic killer who wanted to get him alone to rip out his organs and sell them on the dark web. But he knew he would be there. Wasn’t that fact already dangerous? If he knew he would be there, where else would he know he would be?
“Don’t worry about it.” he told himself. “Just worry about the date. Nothing is gonna ruin this night.” He could tell himself that as much as he wanted to, but deep down, he wasn’t convinced. What else could he do though? The only viable option was to move forward, because no matter how bad we want to, we can never move backwards. Whatever’s going to happen is going to happen, and nothing can change that. He came to terms with this fact long ago.
Chapter 3-
“Hello Amanda, I’m Horace.”
“I know that silly! It says it on your profile.” She gave a heartfelt chuckle
They stood at the door of her condo under the protective cover of the front porch. The rain was pounding on every solid surface around. It hadn’t rained this hard since spring. At least they wouldn’t have to worry about it; they’d be inside for the majority of the date. Horace stood soaked, holding a bouquet of flowers that look picked straight from a rainbow, the light dancing on the drops of water that covered them. She was wearing blue jeans and a
“Well, these are for you.” He handed her the bunch of flowers and she grabbed them as her eyes gave off a certain twinkle. It struck him as a bit familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“Oh, thank you so much Horace. I love them.” Her smile brightened as she took the flowers, and she enthusiastically went in for a sniff. She paused and her smile dimmed. “Wait. These are plastic.”
“Well, yeah. Last girl I brought flowers to almost died of asphyxiation, so I wasn’t taking any chances.”
Her smile returned, accompanied by a genuine laughter. “Aww. It’s the thought that counts right?”
“Right.” he replied. “Look I have a great night planned out, so let’s get to it shall we?”
“Lead the way sir.”
As Horace drove them to the theatre, Amanda was busy examining his car. Her finger traced the AC vent, and she turned it to direct the air towards her face. “What year is this car?”
“It’s a 2006 Nissan Sentra. I’ve had it since college and I’ll continue to have it until it erodes into dust or explodes.”
She chuckled and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “You’re funny Horace! You really are!”
“Thanks. I just don’t see the point in wasting my money on another car. There are so many better uses I could be putting my money towards.” That was mostly true. She didn’t have to know that he also couldn’t buy a new car if he wanted to, considering his financial situation. Gnome Solutions didn’t pay well.
“That’s a good way to look at things. I wish I could stick to a mindset like that.” A bolt of lightning ignited in a distant cloud, glowing up the darkening sky. The sound of the quiet thunder reached their ears moments later. “What do you do anyway?”
Shit. That was a good question. What did he do? Well, he worked for Gnome Solutions of course. But what exactly did he do? File papers? Why? “I work for a company called gnome solutions.”
She leaned in looking at his face as he focused on the road in front of him. She could notice the light stubble starting to form on his face. “That sounds interesting. What do you do there?”
She just had to go and ask that. Of course, she did. “Well, we’ve been working on some stuff that technically the public’s not supposed to know about. Kind of classified in a way.” he said proudly. Great excuse.
“Wow. We have a mysterious man on our hands.” she laughed. “You can tell me a little bit though, can’t you? Just a hint?”
He took a sharp inhale. “Nope sorry. Maybe when I know you better.”
She rolled her eyes. “If you say so.”
As they pulled up into the theatre parking lot, another lightning bolt struck, this time nearby, directly followed by an almost deafening boom. They ran through the rain, getting soaked, their socks absorbing the puddles of water like sponges, and barged through the clear doors of the theatre. The movie portion of the date went smoothly. She was enjoying herself. That was good. The only problem was that he wasn’t enjoying himself. Not with the thought of Damien constantly gnawing at the forefront of him mind. He sat next to her watching the movie, or rather looking at the movie. His mind was too busy watching the various scenarios playing out in his head trying to explain what the fuck was going on.
After the movie, they went to the bowling alley. “Hey, Horace.” she said as she tapped him on the shoulder and then pointed outside to a particular gray, bleak building with a grid of windows plating the walls. “Didn’t you say you worked there? Gnome Solutions?”
“Yup, that’s the place.” he said as he turned into the only open parking space, which was conveniently located as far away as possible from the main entrance. Once again, they stepped out of the Nissan, and ran through the rain, which was pouring harder than it had been all night. More lightning sparked up the distant clouds.
Amanda was a pro at bowling. But no one could possibly be as good as him. He’d been coming to this same place ever since his high school days.
“Ha! Beat that!” she shouted as she made a strike on her first throw of the game.
“Beginner's luck.” he said smugly. Hopefully his muscle memory would kick in. He stood up from his tall stool at the round table and walked over to the bowling machine, his body loose and ready to bowl. He looked for his lucky green ball, but no luck. That green ball would always guarantee him to be victorious at the end of the night, except for that night that his life changed forever. He remembered it clearly; it was permanently engrained in his memory.
“C'mon bro, you gotta get us this win.” Jake had told him that night eight years ago.
“You know I will.” Horace told him smugly
The crowd of friends stood behind and watched with anticipation as Horace strolled over to the bowling machine, rubbed his hands together, and picked up a green ball. He gazed deeply into the green ball, carefully feeling the weight and feeling for the scratch by one of the holes. Yup, this was it.
“No way he makes it.” said Henry, a member of the opposite team.
“I bet he will. Haven’t you seen how he’s been playing? He’s crazy good.” said Sofia to her teammate.
“Yeah well guess what? He may be good but he doesn’t deserve the win. He’s arrogant and cocky, I’ve been seeing it all night.” he said while looking fixedly at Horace holding the ball.
“What the hell is your problem with him? It’s been all night with the constant attacks. If you hate him that much you shouldn’t have come.” she told him sternly.
“Why are you defending him so much is he your damn boyfriend or something?”
“No he’s my friend, and I don’t appreciate it when people talk like that about my friends.”
There was a short pause as they watched Horace walking up to the alley, ready to shoot.
“You know I could be an even better friend, right Sofi?”
“With the way you’ve been acting? Doubt it.” She passed him a side eyed glance.
His gaze went cold.
Just as Horace was getting ready to roll his lucky ball down the isle, two large hands struck him from behind and knocked him off his feet. The ball slipped from his hands, and his face was on a direct course to it. His nose and mouth struck the ball, and his neck jerked backwards. After that, he blacked out for a few seconds, but quickly regained his consciousness and sprung up like a wack-a-mole. Everyone was surrounding him, flashing concerned faces and asking if he was okay. Sofia was in the middle of yelling at Henry by the tables.
“You’re such a fucking asshole you know that?”
“I really didn’t mean to I just wanted to mess him up!” he pleaded.
“Excuses get you nowhere. Just leave.”
“Sorry but I’m staying right here Sofi.”
“So you did this?” Horace asked him as he walked up to the table, his face leaking blood from the nose and mouth and soaking over onto his light blue T-shirt, ball in his hands. Rage filled his eyes. It filled his soul. He didn’t usually get angry, but when he did, he really got angry.
“Look man, I really didn’t mean to knock you onto the ground, I only wanted to make you stumble.”
“Make me stumble?” Horace half laughed. “Make me stumble huh?” He broke into a full fit of laughter, and suddenly lifted his lucky ball in the air above him and brought it down on Henry’s skull.
“Horace?”
Henry’s body struck the floor. Everyone around him screamed.
“Horace.”
A puddle of blood slowly began to form around his head. Horace dropped the ball, eyes wide open in shock, realizing what he had done.
“Horace!” Amanda yelled.
“Huh?” he whipped his head around with a confused look on his face as he snapped out of his daydream.
“Are you going to play or not?”
“Oh yeah, sorry.” He settled for a teal colored ball, and picked it up. Close enough. Three isles over, a man yelled, and Horace quickly spun his head over to see what was going on. A man was jumping around, ecstatically high fiving his friends. He was celebrating.
“Actually,” Horace began to tell Amanda as he put the ball back down, “I think I need to go use the bathroom real quick, I’ll be right back.”
“Oh c’mon at least shoot it before you go!”
But Horace was already walking away. He needed fresh air, and he needed it now. He felt terrible. His head pounded, and he was practically melting from the heat. It wasn’t this hot when he got here. He made for the back door of the place, so as not to hang around by any crowds. He needed peace and quiet.
He opened the door and stepped outside into the rain, completely disregarding the fact that he was being completely drenched by the plummeting raindrops. He went over to where the big green trash bin stood against the wall, and sat down, leaning on it for comfort. His ass was soaked, but that didn’t matter. The rain was cooling him down. He closed his eyes, and felt his body start to relax. His heart rate lowered little by little, and his mind began to wander. It wandered to the past. It wandered to the future. It never seemed to wander in the present. The mind seems to want to avoid the present.
“I knew you’d come.” came a robotic voice from above him.
He looked up and laid his eyes upon a dark figure standing over him. His face hid in the shadows.
“Huh?” Horace confusedly muttered as his brain tried to recognize the person standing over him. Then it all came to him.
“You know exactly who I am Horace. Stand up. We need to speak.”
He carefully stood up, holding on to the garbage bin for support, and met eyes with Damien. Why was he talking like this? He’d rarely ever heard Damien talk and now suddenly this? There was something seriously wrong with this man. He spoke, yes, but he still displayed that deep and empty stare.
“What do you want from me?”
“All I want is a few minutes of your time. This is important. Maybe the most important thing to ever happen to you.”
Horace said nothing and continued to stare into Damien’s eyes without breaking. His body shivered, whether from the rain or fear, he didn’t know. Maybe it was both. Suddenly, a thought popped up in Horace’s head. He’s here to kill him. He had to get out of there.
“Look Damien, I don’t want shit to do with you, okay?” he said as he turned to open the door that led inside. “Just leave me alone, will you?”
A small, but firm hand grasped around his forearm. “I’m afraid I can’t until this is over. I need you to take this.” Damien moved in front of the door to block Horace’s way in and began to reach into his coat pocket.
Horace instantly turned around and ran into the dark, rainy night. He sprinted towards the fence, splashing his pant legs with water, and in one quick, fluid motion, made his way over the fence. He was in the parking lot of Gnome Solutions. He turned around and looked at the fence, waiting for the inevitable moment that Damien would come tumbling over. But it never came. He must’ve given up. Perfect. He had a date to get back to anyway. He looked over to his right at the depleting night time traffic and made his way to the sidewalk. Suddenly, Damien leapt out from seemingly nowhere and grabbed Horace by the shoulders.
“I said this isn’t over until you take this!” he yelled into Horace’s face as he began to struggle.
He tried punching Damien, but he dodged it perfectly. He tried a kick, but Damien moved out of the way effortlessly.
“Fuck!” Horace screamed at the top of his lungs. No matter how hard he tried to hit Damien, he would dodge it successfully. It was almost as if he knew what was coming. No matter what elbow, punch, knee, kick, or head-butt he threw, Damien would move out of the way or block it with ease. Just as he was becoming hopeless, Damien let go of him and jumped up on his feet. He walked onto the empty street, and turned to look at Horace, who still lay on the wet concrete. They made eye contact, and a light began to creep up in the distance. A horn began to honk. The driver pressed on the horn repeatedly. Damien continued looking into Horace’s eyes without saying a word. The oncoming truck swerved to the left, but Damien was one step ahead as always, and jumped in front of it at the last second, ending his own life in the process. Horace stood there, staring.

“This present moment never comes to be, and it never ceases to be, it is simply our minds that construct the continuity of thoughts we call time.”- Alan Watts
Chapter 1-
Standing in line, rapidly tapping his foot, he quickly shifted his gaze from the five people standing in front of him to his watch. It was 8:33 AM. If these damn people don’t hurry up, I'm gonna be late, he thought to himself. Coffee was a necessity though; he couldn’t just up and leave.
He ran a hand through his silky, rich auburn hair, and looked around the room. Something felt out of place. Towards the shop's front, a painting, illuminated by the morning rays that pierced through the big windows that took up the majority of the wall, showed a melting clock in an alien landscape with towering mountains in the background. It reminded him of a painting by Salvador Dali. It was a nice painting, but it really didn’t fit with the other paintings of natural landscapes and peaceful-
Groggily, he let out a piercing yawn that made him tear up a little. He needed that coffee. He took a look at his watch- 8:36. Only one person to go and he would finally place his order. This was his favorite coffee shop. Starbucks could never compete with the quality of service and product provided by Coffee Shop. It was conveniently located a block away from his apartment. Not to mention the unique and eye-catching name of the place. Coffee Shop. Has a nice ring to it.
“Goodmorning Horace, the usual?” the barista behind the counter said to him.
“Yup,” he confirmed.
She whipped around, swinging her blonde ponytail as she went to complete the order. He took another glance at his watch. It was 8:38. He had twenty-two minutes to get to work. He stood there for about a minute and watched her complete his order, mixing the espresso with the almond milk and creamy chocolate syrup that made his mouth water.
“Here you go, one chocolate mocha.” she said as she slipped the drink into a coffee cup sleeve and handed it to him.
He reached out to grab it. “Thanks Katy, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He turned and did a speed walk towards the door. If he wanted to make it to work on time, he’d have to move fast. He walked outside, into the heat emitted from the great ball of fire in the sky, only intensified by the tight suit he wore (his only suit as a matter of fact), walked towards his 2006 Nissan Sentra parked on the far end of the lot, unlocked it and hopped into the driver’s seat, putting the coffee in the cup holder, which wouldn’t have fit it had the cup just been one inch wider in diameter. The car’s clock read 8:40. If he sped, he’d make it on time. He turned the keys in the ignition and drove off to work.
He worked at a firm. Of what, he had no idea. He couldn’t be bothered to care. He only showed up to work, did what he was told, went back home, and that was that. All he knew was not to piss off the boss. You don’t want to piss off the boss.
Two years ago, he saw an ad online for a job at Gnome Solutions, and he fit the requirements, so why not? Fresh out of college with a bachelor’s degree in business administration, he really didn’t care where he worked, as long as he was getting paid. Big mistake.
He pulled into the parking lot at 9:02. Damn it, he thought. I hope the boss isn’t mad. He stepped outside the car, leaving the empty coffee cup behind, and laid his eyes the building. It was three stories tall, it’s walls a light gray with windows planted evenly next to one another. Two large words stood on top of the building for everyone who drove past to feast their eyes on.
“Gnome Solutions” he muttered to himself as he approached the building. “Stupid name isn’t it? Yup.” He stepped through the door.
He was greeted with an excited face beaming at him, accompanied by a young man he’d never met. “Horry buddy! Late for the second time this week? Save the jacking off for after work won’t yah?”
His boss’ name was Hank Ross. He was a man of about forty, pushing fifty, with a receding hairline, the remaining hair almost fully gray, and a field of wrinkles on his forehead. Must be the stress.
“Boss, I’m only two minutes late.” Horace pleaded.
“That’s right Horry! Two minutes of wasted time! Why don’t you make yourself useful and show our new addition to the team around our beautiful building?” he said as he motioned at the room that they stood in. There wasn’t much beautiful about it. The walls were gray and empty, save the clock placed perfectly centered behind the receptionist’s desk. One pot with a small cactus on the right side of the desk was the only real decoration in the room.
Hank put his hand on the new man’s right shoulder. “Horry, meet Damien, Damien, meet Horry.”
“Welcome to the team Damien.” Horace said. He extended a greeting hand to Damien, and after a split second of contemplation, he reluctantly raised his hand and weakly shook.
“Yeah.” Damien replied weakly.
Damien looked to be in his early twenties. Most likely, he was fresh out of college. He had a head of curly dark brown hair, verging on black, yet still distinguishably brown. He was relatively short, probably a good 5’5, but he was a good looking young man, almost perfectly symmetrical face, yet something seemed off about Damien. He didn’t seem as if his body housed an actual soul. There was an aura of emptiness he gave off, as if inside his mind was a barren wasteland, lacking any originality or creativity. As Horace looked into his eyes, it seemed as though Damien wasn’t looking back into his, but piercing through them, and looking beyond.
“Damien’s going to be working out of cubicle 4D, do me a favor and escort him over.” commanded Hank. “Don’t get yourselves into any trouble! And Horace, I want those Hutchison papers filed by today, you hear?”
“Yes sir.” replied Horace, and then turning to Damien, “Ok follow me.”
As they walked through the hallway that led from the reception area to the office, Horace could hear the door to the “employee elevator” opening behind them as Hank walked into it. It was somewhat ironic that it was titled the “employee elevator” considering the only person allowed to use it was the boss.
“So, Damien, where are you from?” Horace questioned as they walked by the cubicles.
“Not here” Damien replied.
“Oh.” Horace said to himself. Something about this man’s demeanor was unsettling.
He proceeded to show him around the office and showed him where all the amenities were located- the bathroom, the coffee maker, the... That was pretty much as far as it went where amenities were concerned. Finally, he showed him where he would be working.
“Alright Damien. 4D. This is your spot. If you need anything I’ll be at 17D just over there.” he pointed to the other side of the room by the bathrooms.
“Thanks.” replied Damien, taking a seat at his desk and making no eye contact and staring at the direction Horace was pointing. He shifted his gaze towards his desk, where the blank PC monitor stared back at him, and then picked up a stray paper clip that was left behind and stored it in the desk’s built in drawer.
A man of few words, Horace thought to himself as he walked off to get those Hutchison papers in motion. He sat down at his desk, opened the file cabinet and scanned through the names with his index finger. Hart, Herrera, Hutchison. There it was. He took out the file, opened it up, and got to work.
Chapter 2-
Finally, after a long week of exhausting work and dealing with Hank’s extensive bullshit, he was free. Free for two days, at least. Free from the irritating voice of his boss. Free from the truckloads of paper he would have to skim through on the daily. Free from the crappy free Wi-Fi he had to use because no service bandwidth would dare penetrate the mundane gray walls of the building and be exposed to the pure boredom laying within. He was free from the strange and uncomfortable presence of Damien. Ever since Damien showed up at Gnome Solutions that Monday, things have been somewhat odd. He would see Damien everywhere he went, and Damien would see him. When he was getting coffee in the kitchen, there was Damien, waiting in line behind him, or sitting at the small table peaking glimpses of him in between sips of coffee. When he was pissing, there was Damien, pissing in the urinal beside him. When he was working, Damien would be analyzing his every move, while simultaneously completing the work of his own. When he tried to talk to him, he would, without fail, give the shortest reply possible, void of any human emotion. Damien was a strange man to say the least. But now was no time to let Damien occupy his mind; he had more important things to attend to.
He opened the door to his small apartment, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and leaned back on the brown leather sofa. He had a date with a strong independent young woman named Amanda later that night at 7. She was 26, one year his senior and he met her online; on Tinder to be exact. She seemed like the perfect match. She had to be. After the 6th Tinder date this month, she was surely the one, and if she wasn’t, he’d decided he would delete Tinder for good. If this good for nothing app couldn’t find the right matches, there was no use in having it installed. His last date, Sofia, was a lying, self-obsessed maniac. As they were finishing their meal at the Applebee's down the street, just last Sunday, she asked him “You are paying for this right?”
As these words entered his ears and were processed by his brain, he looked up from his bowl of bacon mac n’ cheese and stared her dead in the eye. “What makes you think that? Why does every woman think I should be paying for their damn meal? It’s Applebee’s for Christ's sake, not a five-star restaurant. You can afford to pay your share.”
“Oh sorry. I’m just used to the man paying every time I’m on a date.” she replied, feeling attacked.
“Well maybe you should get used to paying your fair share and it’ll teach you to appreciate your money. Maybe you’ll even start eating less, God knows you need it.”
The night ended with her sobbing on the curb waiting for her Uber with Horace crouching next to her as he tried to consolidate her. “Look Sofia, I was only offering some constructive criticism. You look like you could benefit from shedding a few pounds. Maybe start a diet or get a gym membership.”
“Shut the hell up asshole! Get away from me!” she yelled at him as her teardrops struck the asphalt one by one, drowning a few small ants in the process.
“Sofia, I-”
“I said get the hell away from me! What don’t you understand?” she wailed as the waterfall of tears flowed down her pale face, taking the eyeshadow with it.
“Alright then, fuck you.” Horace told her. “Maybe if you weren’t such a damn catfish and actually looked like yourself on your fake ass profile, I would’ve never swiped right on you, and we could’ve avoided this whole situation you lying bitch.”
She began to sob even harder at hearing these words. He left her on the curb crying and drove back to his apartment complex just down the street.
Harsh words? Maybe, but she definitely deserved it. Tonight would be different though. He could feel it. They would be going to the movies, followed by bowling at the place by his work. He hadn’t been back there since that incident in high school, but he missed the place. It would be perfect. He glanced at his watch- 5:48. He had an hour to get ready, so he finished his beer, put the empty bottle on his glass tabletop, lifted himself up using the worn armrests, and walked into his room. He pulled out of his closet a white polo shirt and a pair of blue jeans and set them on the bed. He would be wearing his 2-year-old pair of tan colored Sperry's. The perfect outfit.
As he showered, he thought of how he’d introduce himself when he picked up his date. “Hello Amanda, I’m Horace.” he said out loud, extending a hand to nothing. He shook his head and picked up the bar of soap. “Well of course she knows that’s your name it’s on your damn profile.” As he lathered soap all over his body, he wondered if the problem may be his profile. What if his profile was the reason his matches never worked out? He immediately disregarded the idea. His profile was perfect. He constructed it with thought and precision. The first thing one would see when they came across his profile was a picture of him posing with a cute Pomeranian puppy at the park. He hated dogs, but the ladies sure didn’t, so he had gone to the park and asked random strangers to snap a frame of him with their dogs. The Pomeranian was the best one. In his bio he described himself as compassionate, adventurous, and fun, all admirable qualities. He even mentioned the fact that he worked out, which wasn’t a complete lie, and gave him the excuse of posting a gym selfie as the second picture. At the time of making the profile, he had just started going to the gym, given he only went for-
The doorbell rang.
Who the fuck, Horace thought. “I’ll be right there!” he yelled as he cut off the water flow and stepped out of the shower. He hurriedly dried his body with the towel, wrapped it around his waist, and stumbled over to the closed door, leaving wet footprints on the wood tiled floor. He put a hand on the door and gazed through the peephole and bounced back when he saw who was there. Fucking Damien. What was Damien doing here? How did Damien even find out where he lived? This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Was this even real? He put his right eye to the small hole that connected his room with the outside world once again. He saw a singular, brown eye looking into his, or rather, looking past it. Looking into the nothing.
“What do you want Damien?” he asked from his side of the wooden barrier.
From the other side came a robotic voice. “Horace Dolen.”
“Yup that’s me, now what do you want?” His uneasiness began to rise, along with his blood pressure. The muscles that made up his heart began to pump blood through his system faster. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, joining the drops of water left over from his shower. His eye stayed fixed on the empty eye on the other side. Damien slowly backed away from the door and bent below Horace’s range of vision. He stepped away from the door as well, mentally bracing himself for the worst.
“What the hell do you want Damien?” he anxiously uttered with a shaky voice not quite loud enough for Damien to hear. Just then, an envelope slipped under the door. He stood frozen in position, staring at the white paper. On it was written his name- Horace Dolen. He heard heavy, but rapid footsteps hurrying down the hall, decreasing in volume until his ears could no longer register them. He looked through the peephole once more. Empty. Did he dare open the door to make sure? What if it was all a trick to get him to open up? He decided to wait it out and bent over to examine the envelope. He brushed his fingers over the smooth white paper where his name was inscribed in permanent marker and picked it up.
Sitting on his brown, leather sofa, still wrapped in his towel, he tore open the envelope, and took out a white piece of paper folded in half. In it, scrawled in messy handwriting, also with permanent marker, read “Meet me behind the bowling alley. You’ll know when.”
“What the fuck.” Horace said out loud. In a panic, he ripped up the note and threw it away in the kitchen trashcan. He looked over at the microwave. The time read 6:30. Almost time to go. Physically, he went about getting ready for his date. Mentally, his mind spiraled down a rabbit hole of fear and anxiety, yet curiosity and wonder. How the hell could he have known he was going to be at the bowling alley. He’d told no one of his plans, not even Amanda. Why did he want to meet back there anyway? He has the chance to speak to him any day at work. Should he accept the offer? No. For all he knew he was some psychopathic killer who wanted to get him alone to rip out his organs and sell them on the dark web. But he knew he would be there. Wasn’t that fact already dangerous? If he knew he would be there, where else would he know he would be?
“Don’t worry about it.” he told himself. “Just worry about the date. Nothing is gonna ruin this night.” He could tell himself that as much as he wanted to, but deep down, he wasn’t convinced. What else could he do though? The only viable option was to move forward, because no matter how bad we want to, we can never move backwards. Whatever’s going to happen is going to happen, and nothing can change that. He came to terms with this fact long ago.
Chapter 3-
“Hello Amanda, I’m Horace.”
“I know that silly! It says it on your profile.” She gave a heartfelt chuckle
They stood at the door of her condo under the protective cover of the front porch. The rain was pounding on every solid surface around. It hadn’t rained this hard since spring. At least they wouldn’t have to worry about it; they’d be inside for the majority of the date. Horace stood soaked, holding a bouquet of flowers that look picked straight from a rainbow, the light dancing on the drops of water that covered them. She was wearing blue jeans and a
“Well, these are for you.” He handed her the bunch of flowers and she grabbed them as her eyes gave off a certain twinkle. It struck him as a bit familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“Oh, thank you so much Horace. I love them.” Her smile brightened as she took the flowers, and she enthusiastically went in for a sniff. She paused and her smile dimmed. “Wait. These are plastic.”
“Well, yeah. Last girl I brought flowers to almost died of asphyxiation, so I wasn’t taking any chances.”
Her smile returned, accompanied by a genuine laughter. “Aww. It’s the thought that counts right?”
“Right.” he replied. “Look I have a great night planned out, so let’s get to it shall we?”
“Lead the way sir.”
As Horace drove them to the theatre, Amanda was busy examining his car. Her finger traced the AC vent, and she turned it to direct the air towards her face. “What year is this car?”
“It’s a 2006 Nissan Sentra. I’ve had it since college and I’ll continue to have it until it erodes into dust or explodes.”
She chuckled and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “You’re funny Horace! You really are!”
“Thanks. I just don’t see the point in wasting my money on another car. There are so many better uses I could be putting my money towards.” That was mostly true. She didn’t have to know that he also couldn’t buy a new car if he wanted to, considering his financial situation. Gnome Solutions didn’t pay well.
“That’s a good way to look at things. I wish I could stick to a mindset like that.” A bolt of lightning ignited in a distant cloud, glowing up the darkening sky. The sound of the quiet thunder reached their ears moments later. “What do you do anyway?”
Shit. That was a good question. What did he do? Well, he worked for Gnome Solutions of course. But what exactly did he do? File papers? Why? “I work for a company called gnome solutions.”
She leaned in looking at his face as he focused on the road in front of him. She could notice the light stubble starting to form on his face. “That sounds interesting. What do you do there?”
She just had to go and ask that. Of course, she did. “Well, we’ve been working on some stuff that technically the public’s not supposed to know about. Kind of classified in a way.” he said proudly. Great excuse.
“Wow. We have a mysterious man on our hands.” she laughed. “You can tell me a little bit though, can’t you? Just a hint?”
He took a sharp inhale. “Nope sorry. Maybe when I know you better.”
She rolled her eyes. “If you say so.”
As they pulled up into the theatre parking lot, another lightning bolt struck, this time nearby, directly followed by an almost deafening boom. They ran through the rain, getting soaked, their socks absorbing the puddles of water like sponges, and barged through the clear doors of the theatre. The movie portion of the date went smoothly. She was enjoying herself. That was good. The only problem was that he wasn’t enjoying himself. Not with the thought of Damien constantly gnawing at the forefront of him mind. He sat next to her watching the movie, or rather looking at the movie. His mind was too busy watching the various scenarios playing out in his head trying to explain what the fuck was going on.
After the movie, they went to the bowling alley. “Hey, Horace.” she said as she tapped him on the shoulder and then pointed outside to a particular gray, bleak building with a grid of windows plating the walls. “Didn’t you say you worked there? Gnome Solutions?”
“Yup, that’s the place.” he said as he turned into the only open parking space, which was conveniently located as far away as possible from the main entrance. Once again, they stepped out of the Nissan, and ran through the rain, which was pouring harder than it had been all night. More lightning sparked up the distant clouds.
Amanda was a pro at bowling. But no one could possibly be as good as him. He’d been coming to this same place ever since his high school days.
“Ha! Beat that!” she shouted as she made a strike on her first throw of the game.
“Beginner's luck.” he said smugly. Hopefully his muscle memory would kick in. He stood up from his tall stool at the round table and walked over to the bowling machine, his body loose and ready to bowl. He looked for his lucky green ball, but no luck. That green ball would always guarantee him to be victorious at the end of the night, except for that night that his life changed forever. He remembered it clearly; it was permanently engrained in his memory.
“C'mon bro, you gotta get us this win.” Jake had told him that night eight years ago.
“You know I will.” Horace told him smugly
The crowd of friends stood behind and watched with anticipation as Horace strolled over to the bowling machine, rubbed his hands together, and picked up a green ball. He gazed deeply into the green ball, carefully feeling the weight and feeling for the scratch by one of the holes. Yup, this was it.
“No way he makes it.” said Henry, a member of the opposite team.
“I bet he will. Haven’t you seen how he’s been playing? He’s crazy good.” said Sofia to her teammate.
“Yeah well guess what? He may be good but he doesn’t deserve the win. He’s arrogant and cocky, I’ve been seeing it all night.” he said while looking fixedly at Horace holding the ball.
“What the hell is your problem with him? It’s been all night with the constant attacks. If you hate him that much you shouldn’t have come.” she told him sternly.
“Why are you defending him so much is he your damn boyfriend or something?”
“No he’s my friend, and I don’t appreciate it when people talk like that about my friends.”
There was a short pause as they watched Horace walking up to the alley, ready to shoot.
“You know I could be an even better friend, right Sofi?”
“With the way you’ve been acting? Doubt it.” She passed him a side eyed glance.
His gaze went cold.
Just as Horace was getting ready to roll his lucky ball down the isle, two large hands struck him from behind and knocked him off his feet. The ball slipped from his hands, and his face was on a direct course to it. His nose and mouth struck the ball, and his neck jerked backwards. After that, he blacked out for a few seconds, but quickly regained his consciousness and sprung up like a wack-a-mole. Everyone was surrounding him, flashing concerned faces and asking if he was okay. Sofia was in the middle of yelling at Henry by the tables.
“You’re such a fucking asshole you know that?”
“I really didn’t mean to I just wanted to mess him up!” he pleaded.
“Excuses get you nowhere. Just leave.”
“Sorry but I’m staying right here Sofi.”
“So you did this?” Horace asked him as he walked up to the table, his face leaking blood from the nose and mouth and soaking over onto his light blue T-shirt, ball in his hands. Rage filled his eyes. It filled his soul. He didn’t usually get angry, but when he did, he really got angry.
“Look man, I really didn’t mean to knock you onto the ground, I only wanted to make you stumble.”
“Make me stumble?” Horace half laughed. “Make me stumble huh?” He broke into a full fit of laughter, and suddenly lifted his lucky ball in the air above him and brought it down on Henry’s skull.
“Horace?”
Henry’s body struck the floor. Everyone around him screamed.
“Horace.”
A puddle of blood slowly began to form around his head. Horace dropped the ball, eyes wide open in shock, realizing what he had done.
“Horace!” Amanda yelled.
“Huh?” he whipped his head around with a confused look on his face as he snapped out of his daydream.
“Are you going to play or not?”
“Oh yeah, sorry.” He settled for a teal colored ball, and picked it up. Close enough. Three isles over, a man yelled, and Horace quickly spun his head over to see what was going on. A man was jumping around, ecstatically high fiving his friends. He was celebrating.
“Actually,” Horace began to tell Amanda as he put the ball back down, “I think I need to go use the bathroom real quick, I’ll be right back.”
“Oh c’mon at least shoot it before you go!”
But Horace was already walking away. He needed fresh air, and he needed it now. He felt terrible. His head pounded, and he was practically melting from the heat. It wasn’t this hot when he got here. He made for the back door of the place, so as not to hang around by any crowds. He needed peace and quiet.
He opened the door and stepped outside into the rain, completely disregarding the fact that he was being completely drenched by the plummeting raindrops. He went over to where the big green trash bin stood against the wall, and sat down, leaning on it for comfort. His ass was soaked, but that didn’t matter. The rain was cooling him down. He closed his eyes, and felt his body start to relax. His heart rate lowered little by little, and his mind began to wander. It wandered to the past. It wandered to the future. It never seemed to wander in the present. The mind seems to want to avoid the present.
“I knew you’d come.” came a robotic voice from above him.
He looked up and laid his eyes upon a dark figure standing over him. His face hid in the shadows.
“Huh?” Horace confusedly muttered as his brain tried to recognize the person standing over him. Then it all came to him.
“You know exactly who I am Horace. Stand up. We need to speak.”
He carefully stood up, holding on to the garbage bin for support, and met eyes with Damien. Why was he talking like this? He’d rarely ever heard Damien talk and now suddenly this? There was something seriously wrong with this man. He spoke, yes, but he still displayed that deep and empty stare.
“What do you want from me?”
“All I want is a few minutes of your time. This is important. Maybe the most important thing to ever happen to you.”
Horace said nothing and continued to stare into Damien’s eyes without breaking. His body shivered, whether from the rain or fear, he didn’t know. Maybe it was both. Suddenly, a thought popped up in Horace’s head. He’s here to kill him. He had to get out of there.
“Look Damien, I don’t want shit to do with you, okay?” he said as he turned to open the door that led inside. “Just leave me alone, will you?”
A small, but firm hand grasped around his forearm. “I’m afraid I can’t until this is over. I need you to take this.” Damien moved in front of the door to block Horace’s way in and began to reach into his coat pocket.
Horace instantly turned around and ran into the dark, rainy night. He sprinted towards the fence, splashing his pant legs with water, and in one quick, fluid motion, made his way over the fence. He was in the parking lot of Gnome Solutions. He turned around and looked at the fence, waiting for the inevitable moment that Damien would come tumbling over. But it never came. He must’ve given up. Perfect. He had a date to get back to anyway. He looked over to his right at the depleting night time traffic and made his way to the sidewalk. Suddenly, Damien leapt out from seemingly nowhere and grabbed Horace by the shoulders.
“I said this isn’t over until you take this!” he yelled into Horace’s face as he began to struggle.
He tried punching Damien, but he dodged it perfectly. He tried a kick, but Damien moved out of the way effortlessly.
“Fuck!” Horace screamed at the top of his lungs. No matter how hard he tried to hit Damien, he would dodge it successfully. It was almost as if he knew what was coming. No matter what elbow, punch, knee, kick, or head-butt he threw, Damien would move out of the way or block it with ease. Just as he was becoming hopeless, Damien let go of him and jumped up on his feet. He walked onto the empty street, and turned to look at Horace, who still lay on the wet concrete. They made eye contact, and a light began to creep up in the distance. A horn began to honk. The driver pressed on the horn repeatedly. Damien continued looking into Horace’s eyes without saying a word. The oncoming truck swerved to the left, but Damien was one step ahead as always, and jumped in front of it at the last second, ending his own life in the process. Horace stood there, staring.

“This present moment never comes to be, and it never ceases to be, it is simply our minds that construct the continuity of thoughts we call time.”- Alan Watts
Chapter 1-
Standing in line, rapidly tapping his foot, he quickly shifted his gaze from the five people standing in front of him to his watch. It was 8:33 AM. If these damn people don’t hurry up, I'm gonna be late, he thought to himself. Coffee was a necessity though; he couldn’t just up and leave.
He ran a hand through his silky, rich auburn hair, and looked around the room. Something felt out of place. Towards the shop's front, a painting, illuminated by the morning rays that pierced through the big windows that took up the majority of the wall, showed a melting clock in an alien landscape with towering mountains in the background. It reminded him of a painting by Salvador Dali. It was a nice painting, but it really didn’t fit with the other paintings of natural landscapes and peaceful-
Groggily, he let out a piercing yawn that made him tear up a little. He needed that coffee. He took a look at his watch- 8:36. Only one person to go and he would finally place his order. This was his favorite coffee shop. Starbucks could never compete with the quality of service and product provided by Coffee Shop. It was conveniently located a block away from his apartment. Not to mention the unique and eye-catching name of the place. Coffee Shop. Has a nice ring to it.
“Goodmorning Horace, the usual?” the barista behind the counter said to him.
“Yup,” he confirmed.
She whipped around, swinging her blonde ponytail as she went to complete the order. He took another glance at his watch. It was 8:38. He had twenty-two minutes to get to work. He stood there for about a minute and watched her complete his order, mixing the espresso with the almond milk and creamy chocolate syrup that made his mouth water.
“Here you go, one chocolate mocha.” she said as she slipped the drink into a coffee cup sleeve and handed it to him.
He reached out to grab it. “Thanks Katy, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He turned and did a speed walk towards the door. If he wanted to make it to work on time, he’d have to move fast. He walked outside, into the heat emitted from the great ball of fire in the sky, only intensified by the tight suit he wore (his only suit as a matter of fact), walked towards his 2006 Nissan Sentra parked on the far end of the lot, unlocked it and hopped into the driver’s seat, putting the coffee in the cup holder, which wouldn’t have fit it had the cup just been one inch wider in diameter. The car’s clock read 8:40. If he sped, he’d make it on time. He turned the keys in the ignition and drove off to work.
He worked at a firm. Of what, he had no idea. He couldn’t be bothered to care. He only showed up to work, did what he was told, went back home, and that was that. All he knew was not to piss off the boss. You don’t want to piss off the boss.
Two years ago, he saw an ad online for a job at Gnome Solutions, and he fit the requirements, so why not? Fresh out of college with a bachelor’s degree in business administration, he really didn’t care where he worked, as long as he was getting paid. Big mistake.
He pulled into the parking lot at 9:02. Damn it, he thought. I hope the boss isn’t mad. He stepped outside the car, leaving the empty coffee cup behind, and laid his eyes the building. It was three stories tall, it’s walls a light gray with windows planted evenly next to one another. Two large words stood on top of the building for everyone who drove past to feast their eyes on.
“Gnome Solutions” he muttered to himself as he approached the building. “Stupid name isn’t it? Yup.” He stepped through the door.
He was greeted with an excited face beaming at him, accompanied by a young man he’d never met. “Horry buddy! Late for the second time this week? Save the jacking off for after work won’t yah?”
His boss’ name was Hank Ross. He was a man of about forty, pushing fifty, with a receding hairline, the remaining hair almost fully gray, and a field of wrinkles on his forehead. Must be the stress.
“Boss, I’m only two minutes late.” Horace pleaded.
“That’s right Horry! Two minutes of wasted time! Why don’t you make yourself useful and show our new addition to the team around our beautiful building?” he said as he motioned at the room that they stood in. There wasn’t much beautiful about it. The walls were gray and empty, save the clock placed perfectly centered behind the receptionist’s desk. One pot with a small cactus on the right side of the desk was the only real decoration in the room.
Hank put his hand on the new man’s right shoulder. “Horry, meet Damien, Damien, meet Horry.”
“Welcome to the team Damien.” Horace said. He extended a greeting hand to Damien, and after a split second of contemplation, he reluctantly raised his hand and weakly shook.
“Yeah.” Damien replied weakly.
Damien looked to be in his early twenties. Most likely, he was fresh out of college. He had a head of curly dark brown hair, verging on black, yet still distinguishably brown. He was relatively short, probably a good 5’5, but he was a good looking young man, almost perfectly symmetrical face, yet something seemed off about Damien. He didn’t seem as if his body housed an actual soul. There was an aura of emptiness he gave off, as if inside his mind was a barren wasteland, lacking any originality or creativity. As Horace looked into his eyes, it seemed as though Damien wasn’t looking back into his, but piercing through them, and looking beyond.
“Damien’s going to be working out of cubicle 4D, do me a favor and escort him over.” commanded Hank. “Don’t get yourselves into any trouble! And Horace, I want those Hutchison papers filed by today, you hear?”
“Yes sir.” replied Horace, and then turning to Damien, “Ok follow me.”
As they walked through the hallway that led from the reception area to the office, Horace could hear the door to the “employee elevator” opening behind them as Hank walked into it. It was somewhat ironic that it was titled the “employee elevator” considering the only person allowed to use it was the boss.
“So, Damien, where are you from?” Horace questioned as they walked by the cubicles.
“Not here” Damien replied.
“Oh.” Horace said to himself. Something about this man’s demeanor was unsettling.
He proceeded to show him around the office and showed him where all the amenities were located- the bathroom, the coffee maker, the... That was pretty much as far as it went where amenities were concerned. Finally, he showed him where he would be working.
“Alright Damien. 4D. This is your spot. If you need anything I’ll be at 17D just over there.” he pointed to the other side of the room by the bathrooms.
“Thanks.” replied Damien, taking a seat at his desk and making no eye contact and staring at the direction Horace was pointing. He shifted his gaze towards his desk, where the blank PC monitor stared back at him, and then picked up a stray paper clip that was left behind and stored it in the desk’s built in drawer.
A man of few words, Horace thought to himself as he walked off to get those Hutchison papers in motion. He sat down at his desk, opened the file cabinet and scanned through the names with his index finger. Hart, Herrera, Hutchison. There it was. He took out the file, opened it up, and got to work.
Chapter 2-
Finally, after a long week of exhausting work and dealing with Hank’s extensive bullshit, he was free. Free for two days, at least. Free from the irritating voice of his boss. Free from the truckloads of paper he would have to skim through on the daily. Free from the crappy free Wi-Fi he had to use because no service bandwidth would dare penetrate the mundane gray walls of the building and be exposed to the pure boredom laying within. He was free from the strange and uncomfortable presence of Damien. Ever since Damien showed up at Gnome Solutions that Monday, things have been somewhat odd. He would see Damien everywhere he went, and Damien would see him. When he was getting coffee in the kitchen, there was Damien, waiting in line behind him, or sitting at the small table peaking glimpses of him in between sips of coffee. When he was pissing, there was Damien, pissing in the urinal beside him. When he was working, Damien would be analyzing his every move, while simultaneously completing the work of his own. When he tried to talk to him, he would, without fail, give the shortest reply possible, void of any human emotion. Damien was a strange man to say the least. But now was no time to let Damien occupy his mind; he had more important things to attend to.
He opened the door to his small apartment, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and leaned back on the brown leather sofa. He had a date with a strong independent young woman named Amanda later that night at 7. She was 26, one year his senior and he met her online; on Tinder to be exact. She seemed like the perfect match. She had to be. After the 6th Tinder date this month, she was surely the one, and if she wasn’t, he’d decided he would delete Tinder for good. If this good for nothing app couldn’t find the right matches, there was no use in having it installed. His last date, Sofia, was a lying, self-obsessed maniac. As they were finishing their meal at the Applebee's down the street, just last Sunday, she asked him “You are paying for this right?”
As these words entered his ears and were processed by his brain, he looked up from his bowl of bacon mac n’ cheese and stared her dead in the eye. “What makes you think that? Why does every woman think I should be paying for their damn meal? It’s Applebee’s for Christ's sake, not a five-star restaurant. You can afford to pay your share.”
“Oh sorry. I’m just used to the man paying every time I’m on a date.” she replied, feeling attacked.
“Well maybe you should get used to paying your fair share and it’ll teach you to appreciate your money. Maybe you’ll even start eating less, God knows you need it.”
The night ended with her sobbing on the curb waiting for her Uber with Horace crouching next to her as he tried to consolidate her. “Look Sofia, I was only offering some constructive criticism. You look like you could benefit from shedding a few pounds. Maybe start a diet or get a gym membership.”
“Shut the hell up asshole! Get away from me!” she yelled at him as her teardrops struck the asphalt one by one, drowning a few small ants in the process.
“Sofia, I-”
“I said get the hell away from me! What don’t you understand?” she wailed as the waterfall of tears flowed down her pale face, taking the eyeshadow with it.
“Alright then, fuck you.” Horace told her. “Maybe if you weren’t such a damn catfish and actually looked like yourself on your fake ass profile, I would’ve never swiped right on you, and we could’ve avoided this whole situation you lying bitch.”
She began to sob even harder at hearing these words. He left her on the curb crying and drove back to his apartment complex just down the street.
Harsh words? Maybe, but she definitely deserved it. Tonight would be different though. He could feel it. They would be going to the movies, followed by bowling at the place by his work. He hadn’t been back there since that incident in high school, but he missed the place. It would be perfect. He glanced at his watch- 5:48. He had an hour to get ready, so he finished his beer, put the empty bottle on his glass tabletop, lifted himself up using the worn armrests, and walked into his room. He pulled out of his closet a white polo shirt and a pair of blue jeans and set them on the bed. He would be wearing his 2-year-old pair of tan colored Sperry's. The perfect outfit.
As he showered, he thought of how he’d introduce himself when he picked up his date. “Hello Amanda, I’m Horace.” he said out loud, extending a hand to nothing. He shook his head and picked up the bar of soap. “Well of course she knows that’s your name it’s on your damn profile.” As he lathered soap all over his body, he wondered if the problem may be his profile. What if his profile was the reason his matches never worked out? He immediately disregarded the idea. His profile was perfect. He constructed it with thought and precision. The first thing one would see when they came across his profile was a picture of him posing with a cute Pomeranian puppy at the park. He hated dogs, but the ladies sure didn’t, so he had gone to the park and asked random strangers to snap a frame of him with their dogs. The Pomeranian was the best one. In his bio he described himself as compassionate, adventurous, and fun, all admirable qualities. He even mentioned the fact that he worked out, which wasn’t a complete lie, and gave him the excuse of posting a gym selfie as the second picture. At the time of making the profile, he had just started going to the gym, given he only went for-
The doorbell rang.
Who the fuck, Horace thought. “I’ll be right there!” he yelled as he cut off the water flow and stepped out of the shower. He hurriedly dried his body with the towel, wrapped it around his waist, and stumbled over to the closed door, leaving wet footprints on the wood tiled floor. He put a hand on the door and gazed through the peephole and bounced back when he saw who was there. Fucking Damien. What was Damien doing here? How did Damien even find out where he lived? This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Was this even real? He put his right eye to the small hole that connected his room with the outside world once again. He saw a singular, brown eye looking into his, or rather, looking past it. Looking into the nothing.
“What do you want Damien?” he asked from his side of the wooden barrier.
From the other side came a robotic voice. “Horace Dolen.”
“Yup that’s me, now what do you want?” His uneasiness began to rise, along with his blood pressure. The muscles that made up his heart began to pump blood through his system faster. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, joining the drops of water left over from his shower. His eye stayed fixed on the empty eye on the other side. Damien slowly backed away from the door and bent below Horace’s range of vision. He stepped away from the door as well, mentally bracing himself for the worst.
“What the hell do you want Damien?” he anxiously uttered with a shaky voice not quite loud enough for Damien to hear. Just then, an envelope slipped under the door. He stood frozen in position, staring at the white paper. On it was written his name- Horace Dolen. He heard heavy, but rapid footsteps hurrying down the hall, decreasing in volume until his ears could no longer register them. He looked through the peephole once more. Empty. Did he dare open the door to make sure? What if it was all a trick to get him to open up? He decided to wait it out and bent over to examine the envelope. He brushed his fingers over the smooth white paper where his name was inscribed in permanent marker and picked it up.
Sitting on his brown, leather sofa, still wrapped in his towel, he tore open the envelope, and took out a white piece of paper folded in half. In it, scrawled in messy handwriting, also with permanent marker, read “Meet me behind the bowling alley. You’ll know when.”
“What the fuck.” Horace said out loud. In a panic, he ripped up the note and threw it away in the kitchen trashcan. He looked over at the microwave. The time read 6:30. Almost time to go. Physically, he went about getting ready for his date. Mentally, his mind spiraled down a rabbit hole of fear and anxiety, yet curiosity and wonder. How the hell could he have known he was going to be at the bowling alley. He’d told no one of his plans, not even Amanda. Why did he want to meet back there anyway? He has the chance to speak to him any day at work. Should he accept the offer? No. For all he knew he was some psychopathic killer who wanted to get him alone to rip out his organs and sell them on the dark web. But he knew he would be there. Wasn’t that fact already dangerous? If he knew he would be there, where else would he know he would be?
“Don’t worry about it.” he told himself. “Just worry about the date. Nothing is gonna ruin this night.” He could tell himself that as much as he wanted to, but deep down, he wasn’t convinced. What else could he do though? The only viable option was to move forward, because no matter how bad we want to, we can never move backwards. Whatever’s going to happen is going to happen, and nothing can change that. He came to terms with this fact long ago.
Chapter 3-
“Hello Amanda, I’m Horace.”
“I know that silly! It says it on your profile.” She gave a heartfelt chuckle
They stood at the door of her condo under the protective cover of the front porch. The rain was pounding on every solid surface around. It hadn’t rained this hard since spring. At least they wouldn’t have to worry about it; they’d be inside for the majority of the date. Horace stood soaked, holding a bouquet of flowers that look picked straight from a rainbow, the light dancing on the drops of water that covered them. She was wearing blue jeans and a
“Well, these are for you.” He handed her the bunch of flowers and she grabbed them as her eyes gave off a certain twinkle. It struck him as a bit familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“Oh, thank you so much Horace. I love them.” Her smile brightened as she took the flowers, and she enthusiastically went in for a sniff. She paused and her smile dimmed. “Wait. These are plastic.”
“Well, yeah. Last girl I brought flowers to almost died of asphyxiation, so I wasn’t taking any chances.”
Her smile returned, accompanied by a genuine laughter. “Aww. It’s the thought that counts right?”
“Right.” he replied. “Look I have a great night planned out, so let’s get to it shall we?”
“Lead the way sir.”
As Horace drove them to the theatre, Amanda was busy examining his car. Her finger traced the AC vent, and she turned it to direct the air towards her face. “What year is this car?”
“It’s a 2006 Nissan Sentra. I’ve had it since college and I’ll continue to have it until it erodes into dust or explodes.”
She chuckled and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “You’re funny Horace! You really are!”
“Thanks. I just don’t see the point in wasting my money on another car. There are so many better uses I could be putting my money towards.” That was mostly true. She didn’t have to know that he also couldn’t buy a new car if he wanted to, considering his financial situation. Gnome Solutions didn’t pay well.
“That’s a good way to look at things. I wish I could stick to a mindset like that.” A bolt of lightning ignited in a distant cloud, glowing up the darkening sky. The sound of the quiet thunder reached their ears moments later. “What do you do anyway?”
Shit. That was a good question. What did he do? Well, he worked for Gnome Solutions of course. But what exactly did he do? File papers? Why? “I work for a company called gnome solutions.”
She leaned in looking at his face as he focused on the road in front of him. She could notice the light stubble starting to form on his face. “That sounds interesting. What do you do there?”
She just had to go and ask that. Of course, she did. “Well, we’ve been working on some stuff that technically the public’s not supposed to know about. Kind of classified in a way.” he said proudly. Great excuse.
“Wow. We have a mysterious man on our hands.” she laughed. “You can tell me a little bit though, can’t you? Just a hint?”
He took a sharp inhale. “Nope sorry. Maybe when I know you better.”
She rolled her eyes. “If you say so.”
As they pulled up into the theatre parking lot, another lightning bolt struck, this time nearby, directly followed by an almost deafening boom. They ran through the rain, getting soaked, their socks absorbing the puddles of water like sponges, and barged through the clear doors of the theatre. The movie portion of the date went smoothly. She was enjoying herself. That was good. The only problem was that he wasn’t enjoying himself. Not with the thought of Damien constantly gnawing at the forefront of him mind. He sat next to her watching the movie, or rather looking at the movie. His mind was too busy watching the various scenarios playing out in his head trying to explain what the fuck was going on.
After the movie, they went to the bowling alley. “Hey, Horace.” she said as she tapped him on the shoulder and then pointed outside to a particular gray, bleak building with a grid of windows plating the walls. “Didn’t you say you worked there? Gnome Solutions?”
“Yup, that’s the place.” he said as he turned into the only open parking space, which was conveniently located as far away as possible from the main entrance. Once again, they stepped out of the Nissan, and ran through the rain, which was pouring harder than it had been all night. More lightning sparked up the distant clouds.
Amanda was a pro at bowling. But no one could possibly be as good as him. He’d been coming to this same place ever since his high school days.
“Ha! Beat that!” she shouted as she made a strike on her first throw of the game.
“Beginner's luck.” he said smugly. Hopefully his muscle memory would kick in. He stood up from his tall stool at the round table and walked over to the bowling machine, his body loose and ready to bowl. He looked for his lucky green ball, but no luck. That green ball would always guarantee him to be victorious at the end of the night, except for that night that his life changed forever. He remembered it clearly; it was permanently engrained in his memory.
“C'mon bro, you gotta get us this win.” Jake had told him that night eight years ago.
“You know I will.” Horace told him smugly
The crowd of friends stood behind and watched with anticipation as Horace strolled over to the bowling machine, rubbed his hands together, and picked up a green ball. He gazed deeply into the green ball, carefully feeling the weight and feeling for the scratch by one of the holes. Yup, this was it.
“No way he makes it.” said Henry, a member of the opposite team.
“I bet he will. Haven’t you seen how he’s been playing? He’s crazy good.” said Sofia to her teammate.
“Yeah well guess what? He may be good but he doesn’t deserve the win. He’s arrogant and cocky, I’ve been seeing it all night.” he said while looking fixedly at Horace holding the ball.
“What the hell is your problem with him? It’s been all night with the constant attacks. If you hate him that much you shouldn’t have come.” she told him sternly.
“Why are you defending him so much is he your damn boyfriend or something?”
“No he’s my friend, and I don’t appreciate it when people talk like that about my friends.”
There was a short pause as they watched Horace walking up to the alley, ready to shoot.
“You know I could be an even better friend, right Sofi?”
“With the way you’ve been acting? Doubt it.” She passed him a side eyed glance.
His gaze went cold.
Just as Horace was getting ready to roll his lucky ball down the isle, two large hands struck him from behind and knocked him off his feet. The ball slipped from his hands, and his face was on a direct course to it. His nose and mouth struck the ball, and his neck jerked backwards. After that, he blacked out for a few seconds, but quickly regained his consciousness and sprung up like a wack-a-mole. Everyone was surrounding him, flashing concerned faces and asking if he was okay. Sofia was in the middle of yelling at Henry by the tables.
“You’re such a fucking asshole you know that?”
“I really didn’t mean to I just wanted to mess him up!” he pleaded.
“Excuses get you nowhere. Just leave.”
“Sorry but I’m staying right here Sofi.”
“So you did this?” Horace asked him as he walked up to the table, his face leaking blood from the nose and mouth and soaking over onto his light blue T-shirt, ball in his hands. Rage filled his eyes. It filled his soul. He didn’t usually get angry, but when he did, he really got angry.
“Look man, I really didn’t mean to knock you onto the ground, I only wanted to make you stumble.”
“Make me stumble?” Horace half laughed. “Make me stumble huh?” He broke into a full fit of laughter, and suddenly lifted his lucky ball in the air above him and brought it down on Henry’s skull.
“Horace?”
Henry’s body struck the floor. Everyone around him screamed.
“Horace.”
A puddle of blood slowly began to form around his head. Horace dropped the ball, eyes wide open in shock, realizing what he had done.
“Horace!” Amanda yelled.
“Huh?” he whipped his head around with a confused look on his face as he snapped out of his daydream.
“Are you going to play or not?”
“Oh yeah, sorry.” He settled for a teal colored ball, and picked it up. Close enough. Three isles over, a man yelled, and Horace quickly spun his head over to see what was going on. A man was jumping around, ecstatically high fiving his friends. He was celebrating.
“Actually,” Horace began to tell Amanda as he put the ball back down, “I think I need to go use the bathroom real quick, I’ll be right back.”
“Oh c’mon at least shoot it before you go!”
But Horace was already walking away. He needed fresh air, and he needed it now. He felt terrible. His head pounded, and he was practically melting from the heat. It wasn’t this hot when he got here. He made for the back door of the place, so as not to hang around by any crowds. He needed peace and quiet.
He opened the door and stepped outside into the rain, completely disregarding the fact that he was being completely drenched by the plummeting raindrops. He went over to where the big green trash bin stood against the wall, and sat down, leaning on it for comfort. His ass was soaked, but that didn’t matter. The rain was cooling him down. He closed his eyes, and felt his body start to relax. His heart rate lowered little by little, and his mind began to wander. It wandered to the past. It wandered to the future. It never seemed to wander in the present. The mind seems to want to avoid the present.
“I knew you’d come.” came a robotic voice from above him.
He looked up and laid his eyes upon a dark figure standing over him. His face hid in the shadows.
“Huh?” Horace confusedly muttered as his brain tried to recognize the person standing over him. Then it all came to him.
“You know exactly who I am Horace. Stand up. We need to speak.”
He carefully stood up, holding on to the garbage bin for support, and met eyes with Damien. Why was he talking like this? He’d rarely ever heard Damien talk and now suddenly this? There was something seriously wrong with this man. He spoke, yes, but he still displayed that deep and empty stare.
“What do you want from me?”
“All I want is a few minutes of your time. This is important. Maybe the most important thing to ever happen to you.”
Horace said nothing and continued to stare into Damien’s eyes without breaking. His body shivered, whether from the rain or fear, he didn’t know. Maybe it was both. Suddenly, a thought popped up in Horace’s head. He’s here to kill him. He had to get out of there.
“Look Damien, I don’t want shit to do with you, okay?” he said as he turned to open the door that led inside. “Just leave me alone, will you?”
A small, but firm hand grasped around his forearm. “I’m afraid I can’t until this is over. I need you to take this.” Damien moved in front of the door to block Horace’s way in and began to reach into his coat pocket.
Horace instantly turned around and ran into the dark, rainy night. He sprinted towards the fence, splashing his pant legs with water, and in one quick, fluid motion, made his way over the fence. He was in the parking lot of Gnome Solutions. He turned around and looked at the fence, waiting for the inevitable moment that Damien would come tumbling over. But it never came. He must’ve given up. Perfect. He had a date to get back to anyway. He looked over to his right at the depleting night time traffic and made his way to the sidewalk. Suddenly, Damien leapt out from seemingly nowhere and grabbed Horace by the shoulders.
“I said this isn’t over until you take this!” he yelled into Horace’s face as he began to struggle.
He tried punching Damien, but he dodged it perfectly. He tried a kick, but Damien moved out of the way effortlessly.
“Fuck!” Horace screamed at the top of his lungs. No matter how hard he tried to hit Damien, he would dodge it successfully. It was almost as if he knew what was coming. No matter what elbow, punch, knee, kick, or head-butt he threw, Damien would move out of the way or block it with ease. Just as he was becoming hopeless, Damien let go of him and jumped up on his feet. He walked onto the empty street, and turned to look at Horace, who still lay on the wet concrete. They made eye contact, and a light began to creep up in the distance. A horn began to honk. The driver pressed on the horn repeatedly. Damien continued looking into Horace’s eyes without saying a word. The oncoming truck swerved to the left, but Damien was one step ahead as always, and jumped in front of it at the last second, ending his own life in the process. Horace stood there, staring.

I discovered this sub about a month ago and I find myself coming back every day to check on these influencers who I had never even heard of a few weeks ago. Disclaimer: I did vaguely know who DB and AC were but I never knew about any of the others. I'm not sure if my life is better or worse now that I know what an OKCallie/Audrey Peters/Ella Rose/Jaz or a Halley is..... but what I do know is that I'm obsessed. Not obsessed enough to create accounts to follow them but I'll continue to lurk on here.
As an unbiased outsider who is new to all of this, I can tell you that a lot of these influencers blend into one and I'll check out their content and I'm just like.... this is it? is this it? what's all the fuss about? Case in point: Alix Earle - I've seen her mentioned on here quite a lot over the last few days and I finally just decided to look up who she is today and I'm.... confused. My first impression of her IG was "cheugy" and it was very much giving the year 2015.
The one that stands out to me is AP and I live for the snark on her, she just has something about her that is so snarkable. "Show my pic to your surgeon." lmao. The AP posts on here are by far my favourite. The whole "founding fathers" comments about her hair are the best thing on this sub. I'm jealous of AP's lack of self awareness but not of her style. Miu Miu needs to get the restraining order already. Ps - I'm also convinced she posts about herself on here.
OKCallie is the one who I think seems most likeable but bear in mind, I'm basing this on like 3 posts I've seen on her. I also don't know what the Applebee's thing is about? Can somebody tell me the joke?
Kit Keenan is the one I'm actually jealous of because I recognised the Chelsea apartment building that she lives in, as I've had it bookmarked on Zillow since last year (purely for no reason other than to look at it lol, I live in the UK and I'm currently poor but a bitch can dream.)
DB straight up just gives me cluster b personality disorder vibes and she needs to never "dance" again.
AC needs to eat and probably divorce her husband. The "she looks like a little Italian boy" post the other day cracked me up.
Ella Rose literally evokes zero opinion from me, just meh, very forgettable.
Ruby Lyn is by far the most attractive but she's not the level of attractive that cancels out her horrific outfits. Ruby dresses the worst out of all of them.
Serena K looks a decade older than me and I'm 31. Don't do fillers, kids.
Halley will be on OF within the next 12-18 months (if she isn't already? Not sure tbh.)
I've probably forgot some but those ones come to mind. Just my first impressions, I hope I wasn't too mean lol.

https://postimg.cc/rdDLW3qn
I wanted to say hello to my childhood best friend's daughter for Xmas and see how she was doing.
👋🙋🎄
I knew both the daughter and her brother had gone through drug problems and was hoping they were both doing well.
He was managing a Dominos and seemed to be very happy & in love with his new girlfriend, whom he'd just had a baby with.
The daughter has kids too (I can't believe my friend who's a year younger than me is a Grandmother! But she had kids early, almost right out of high school)
Anyway, and she...
Apparently is doing great, thanks to her OnlyFans, which seems to be very "big butt in a thong" focused. 😲
Her IG has ~8,000 followers, and I don't know how OnlyFans exactly works, but it said you could "subscribe" for ten or fifteen bucks a month.
So if, say, one thousand of her IG fans subscribe to her OnlyFans, that's 10k+ a month! 😳
Jeebus!! 😱
Hillary is missing out on a golden opportunity. 💰
You know, I don't begrudge my friend's daughter doing what she's doing; I just hope she's careful.
I watched her struggle with bartending jobs and cell phone representative gigs and waitressing at Applebee's, and if this is how she has to provide for her children, so be it. I just hope she's being safe.
I usually talk to my old friend a few times a year by phone since she moved to Florida, and I'm sure I'll call her soon for the holidays, but, uh, I will just not mention this. I'm sure her Mom knows, but it's not the kind of thing I'd lead with.
I felt, finding this, so shocked and blindsided.
I'm no prude & certainly no saint myself, but it's just a shocking thing to see from someone you used to help take to swimming lessons and dance recitals. Even the pictures you were allowed to see without subscribing were very explicit.
I wonder if this is how Hillz' family and old friends felt when they looked at some of her outrageous "pro-breastfeeding" shots on her IG.
Especially the ones she embarked on after Efu came along
Like, just STUNNED.
It has to unsettle them.
https://postimg.cc/kRcHLvnR

Like many here, I've been experimenting with dreambooth training for SD. I have seen sporadic threads with people sharing gens, tips, etc -- but I haven't seen much in the way of a conversation between people who have been testing training, which I think would be useful. So, in that spirit, here is some questions, thoughts, etc:
WORKFLOW
I think part of the "aha" moment for DB training and SD gens in general has been understanding that a single model workflow struggles to give good results compared to a multi model workflow. What I mean by this is that if I train a model of someone so that SD does a generally good job of putting that person into the styles and situations that I prompt, it often lacks on good face detail. If I train up a model that really knows a face, it tends to become more overfit -- SD no longer easily puts the person in that situation or style, and often has to be forced with ((((prompt)))) crowbars to give results that still aren't as good as non-overfit models. However, if you use both models, you get the best of both worlds -- run one model for the situation, then inpaint that render with the second, more overfitted model. Think about each trained model as a different "paintbrush". Instead of thinking you have to use the same brush on the face that you used on the overall scene, why not switch brushes? My workflow is usually render with a model with fewer steps (3K, for example), then upscale, then inpaint the face/head of that model with the model with more steps (6K for example). I do the upscaling first because it makes it easier for the inpainting to match the overall look. During each step, I'm rendering large batches, dialing in the settings, then picking the winners. If you run 50 to 100 gens for the situation once you get the settings dialed in, and then later another 50 to 100 gens for the dialed in face/head, you're probably going to get something cool.
For training, I've run both locally and in the cloud via runpod or other compute rental stuff. I've tried Collab but hate it -- most people use it because it's free but I don't have time to sit there clicking things to make it not timeout, and while there are scripts you can run to make things click the screen for you, compute time is literally like 30 cents per hour on a rented 3090. I prefer to run locally, but setup is a bit of a pain in the ass -- and running in the cloud lets you run multiple instances at once, so you can fart out 2K steps, 4K steps, 6K steps, and 8K steps in parallel, which saves a lot of time. Only limit is money, and again, it's pretty cheap, at least compared to the cost of a computer that can run it locally.
For training, I've been continuing to use prior preservation loss -- i.e., the method where you give the trainer a bunch of generic class renders in a folder in addition to your training images. I have tried some of the things posted here recently (such as NMKD's GUI trainer, and the collab that was posted last week) that do not do this -- the ones where you end up with a system where you prompt "BillyBob fights God in Applebees, by Greg Rutkowski" instead of "BillyBob person fights God in Applebees". It seems like if you don't use prior preservation loss, the overall model is *much* more harmed by any training you do to it. The model will still render whatever it is you trained it to render, but the creativity and styles and situations that it knows about seems to drop off fast. Which is perhaps a way to say that it's much easier to overtrain it. Prior preservation loss appears to be pretty important. Hopefully as people develop shiny GUI tools to do this stuff going forward, they leave that as one of the options.
QUESTIONS
My biggest question relates to the dance between learning rate, training image quantity, and steps. The general knowledge is that 10 to 20 images is good and that more may not be better, but I suspect that this might not be the whole story. I've seen people train pretty amazing stuff using 300+ images with a lot of steps and a lower learning rate. If smarter people than me understand the interplay between learning rate and output quality as the model runs, it'd be neat to see the learning rate auto-tune as needed. Joepenna's Jupyter notebook scripts seem to do this -- looking into the python it seems like he's using "float" as the value for the training strength, which I suspect means that his code is adjusting the strength based on some metric like loss as the model works its way through the steps. I've looked around for answers on this interplay, and I see lots of ideas, but not a lot of agreement. You know you're out of your depth in some seriously deep tech waters when people are writing actual journal papers about the thing you're trying to understand.

1. Slimfast hates grilled cheese
2. Slimfast's house- Smashing or dancing
3. Slimfast takes a sex worker on a jetski ride in exchange for better rates
4. Slimfast's bachelor party- where father in law takes off his shirt and crawls like a tiger while sex worker puts on a show.
5. Slimfast goes to the movies with his drug dealer
6. Slimfast gets caught getting frisky with girlfriend at the movies by staff
7. Slimfast and his girlfriend are making onlyfans content, shows it to Lazlo who is excited at first, but then has regrets
8. Slimfast goes to "The Cape" segment 1 and 2
9. Slimfast tries to get Lazlo to buy a condo at the Ozarks with him
10. Slimfast Adopts A Senior. Lazlo thinks its for stealing drugs or sex.
11. Slimfast goes on a mouse killing mission and Lazlo thinks all men find an animal to fight to ward off depression. Lazlo's dad has a yearlong battle with a blue heron
12. Slimfast hides in Brook's house until 4 in the morning bc there are angry teenagers outside hopped up on hookah pipes
13. Slimfast won't get out of his car at a gas station bc there are teenagers outside
14. Slimfast car is broken into. Lazlo believes it was Skid Roadie from 101 the fox.
15. Slimfast tries to steal Snowcone's girl from waldo bar
16. Slimfast's amazon orders- Yeti, E-bike
17. Slimfast's mom see's his amazon sexy wear- wishlist and regrets it
18. Slimfast's backpack segment 1
19. Slimfast's backpack segment 2
20. Slimfast's backpack segment 3
21. Slimfast goes on a nature walk
22. Slimfast takes a sidejob bartending at Applebees.
23. Slimfast gets VIP tickets to Smashing Pumpkins but eats spaghetti at home instead
24. Slimfast has sleep paralysis
25. Slimfast picks up a hitchhiker
26. Slimfast buys his girlfriend's ex-boyfriend, who is in prison, a television for his cell
27. Lazlo and Slimfast go to a lemon party original segment
28. Lazlo gives away the ending to Harry Potter
29. Lazlo makes a crying co-worker put on sunglasses to hide the tears during a meeting
30. Lazlo hits his boss in the head with an old telephone and flees the state
31. Lazlo incites a riot
32. Lazlo fights Papa Chullo in prison
33. Lazlo wants to fight a listener and tells Slimfast to run the listener over with his car
34. Lazlo brinks beer with locals in the middle east during Ramadan
35. Lazlo loses virginity with an older woman
36. Lazlo tells stories about Jim Teryaki
37. Lazlo really wants to buy snowcone pants for being rude to him
38. Lazlo and Meredith think Snowcone is homeless and living in the studio
39. Snowcone left in the car at casino original segment
40. Snowcone's dad starts a funnel cake empire
41. Snowcone Segment- Catfish and the Bottlemen wont take the stage until Snowcone is let into the venue
42. Snowcone invites Lazlo to Pizzabar for free pizza and Lazlo cant get in
43. Snowcone DJs at power and light and Slimfast visits. Snowcone has some technical difficulties

I'm bored. I use to be fun. I would go out places. Dinners with friends, dancing, pool, karaoke, shopping trips. Now i dont do any of it. I am home all day with the youngest. When the oldest gets out of school im here with them both for a few hours until hubby gets home but then he goes to the gym an hour later. I use to enjoy my husbands company. Now it just seems like we do the same things over and over and thats nothing. We dont go anywhere and when we do its always a movie. Maybe dinner at applebees or cheddars. We just moved out west and since being here his idea of fun is family video games. Even the sex has become boring. Its the same thing everytime and it went from an almost daily occurrence to barely once a month. The last time we went out was in August to Vegas (before that we hadnt had a date night in 3 years) for a night but we stayed in the room most of the time. We saw 1 show and then went back to the room. I love my family but im remembering my time before responsibilities and this is not how i planned it. Idk if this is a vent post or advice post. I just wanted to get that out

Star vs The Chain Restaurant Graveyard

In a low-priced partially refurbished Class A RV, a college age Star Butterfly has the gas pedal on the floor and her favorite Love Sentence dance club remix blasting over the speakers. At the same time her fiancé sits in the seat next to her struggling over a large folded map as he tries to figure out where in the Underworld Kingdom they are.
“Star, could you please turn down the music for a minute? I need to focus, I’m sure we should have reached the turn by now.”
“Marco hun, chillax. There's no way we’ve missed anything out here. Seriously, I've only seen sand, boulders, and stalactites for the last ten miles.”
“You mean stalagmites. Stalactites are the ones that come down from the roof of the cave.”
“Oh, so I should be staring at the Underworld ceiling while I drive?” The young woman followed up her comment by pretending to focus up instead of at the barely visible dirt road in front of her.
“STAR!” Marco immediately lowered the map in panic only to find a wide smile on his fiancée's face.
“Totally got you.” She winked at him.
“Seriously Star, can you at least slow down until I find a landmark or something? It’s way too dark down here and I’m not sure I’ll have a chance to see anything with how fast you’re going.” Marco leaned over trying to check the speedometer.
“Janna said the speed dial thingy is broken and with these crappy headlights we’re lucky we can see the road in front of us. We’re either going the right way or we’ll see a sign at some point or we’ll crash into a sta-a-a-”
“Stalagmite.”
“-stalagmite. Please trust your bestie and relax. While I'm driving everything is going to be fine-e-e.”
This was day two of Star and Marco’s spring break and Tom had convinced them that a drive through the under-explored rural Underworld would be perfect for helping the hard working college students unwind. One Janna brokered RV rental later and the Cleavers of Worlds were cruising through a series of enormous underground caverns as they made their way toward Vegas.
“Sorry. I’m just worried because the GPS doesn’t work down here and...and I feel dumb that I can’t figure out which way we’re going.” With slumped shoulders the young man’s expression clearly showed he was disappointed with himself.
“Come on hun, it's alright. You’re still my brainy lil karate master...” She gave him a smirk. “...even if you once needed a talking dog to teach you how to get a straw into a juice pouch.”
“And now I’m being teased.” He placed the poorly unfolded map over his head as if he was hiding from reality. “I should just take a nap.”
“Aww, don’t be all pouty. Hey look, there’s someone on the road up ahead! We can ask them for directions, okay?”
“No-no, I can figure this out.”
Marco pulled the road map back in front of him, making another rushed attempt to get his bearings, but it was too late. Star was already slowing the vehicle while rolling down her window. The person she pulled next to turned to face the RV once it drew close. It was at this point that the former princess noted that the gentleman was a bit more rotted than the average Underworld dweller.
“Ar-rgh-h.”
“Excuse me sir, would you have a minute to help us out?”
The figure shambled up to the window, one arm reaching out toward the young blonde. “Arrgh!”
Star couldn’t read his expression but she still gave the man a wide toothy grin. “So we’re trying to get on route 667 toward Las Vegas but my boyfriend-”
Marco was quick to interrupt, “Fiancé.”
“Sorry, my FIANCE thinks we missed a turn.”
“Ar-r-r-ragh!” As the figure groaned his one working arm lunged toward Star’s face but couldn’t quite reach because of the RV’s height.
“That way? I guess we did need to turn.” Facing back toward her bestie she pointed in the same general direction that the skeletal arm waved. Looking over they saw what appeared to be a clear wide path on their right. “That must be it. Thank you sir, super helpful! I hope you have a fantastic super-awesome day!”
With that Star slowly drove the vehicle away, the lone figure attempting to shamble after them. Shortly after, the couple made their turn and continued rolling further into the darkness.
“I don’t know about his directions, Star. This looks more like a dry riverbed than a road. Plus there was definitely something wrong with that guy. He was sorta acting like one of those flesh eating zombies you see in those old Earth movies.”
“Marco! In the Underworld Kingdom they like to be called living-challenged.”
“Sorry, you’re right. Still, he seemed more CHALLENGED then others I’ve met. He didn't even say hi.”
“Maybe he's dealing with a cold or something. But, instead of thinking about him maybe we-e-e play a game?”
Marco took a deep breath, he knew where this would lead. “Truth or Truth?”
Star bounced in her seat with excitement. “I love playing Truth or Truth!”
“Every time we travel.”
“Come on, it’s fun and I love learning new weird things about you! Plus I’m driving so I’m the one who gets to decide.”
Marco let out a long sigh. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
“Question number one, is there anything I cook that you really-really-really like?”
“I assume cooking means heat is involved?”
“I do pour a mean bowl of cereal but yes, food that involves an oven or fire.”
Marco pondered for a moment. “Well, you do fine with hotdogs, grilled cheese, fried eggs, and you reheat really well.”
“That’s it? Didn’t you like the half rare half well done steak I made the other night? I get the feeling you’re going to be a saddest husband in spouse-land if we end up sharing cooking responsibilities.”
“Roasted corn, I like when you make that. Also your popcorn is good.”
“Well, I’m going to hope that you never get sick of corn.”
“My turn?”
Star gave a nod while keeping her eyes focused on what she guessed was the road. “Yes, but no lame questions like you always ask. Mmhh...what did you think of that paper I turned in last week? Mmhh...do you like the new sheets I bought? Those are some lame questions my dear.”
“Fine. Since we’re in the Underworld Kingdom, what did you and Tom do when you used to go on dates?”
The college student’s eyes went wide as she thought about how to reply.
“Star?”
“Ah...err...you...are you sure you want that to be your question?”
“We’ve been together for a while now, I think I can handle it.”
“I...I don’t know. I don’t want to open old wounds.”
“Star, you’ve already told me everything important. What could you possibly say that would...oh...maybe there’s important stuff you haven't told me about?”
“No-o-o-o.”
Marco wondered if he finally found a topic that might make his Star think twice about wanting to play Truth or Truth every road trip. “So have you been lying to me about some of the details?”
“Listen dork-head, I remember lying to you once! Just once! And it was when you asked me if I had a crush on you after I watched you toss a bag full of pizza bites into your ex-girlfriend’s mouth-hole! Man, you were so dorky-cute that school year. And no, I’m not counting Truth or Punishment when we were fourteen because I was lying to everyone back then, including myself.”
“I forgot about those pizza bites.”
“Listen, Tom and I went to get food sometimes. Other times we hung out in my room listening to music, we watched a few movies, we played ping-pong and board games. I took him to Questbuy once but that wasn’t really fun. Most of the time we did the same stuff you and I used to do back when I first lived with you on Earth.”
“That’s it? So why wouldn’t you have wanted to tell me that?”
“We also went to some noble type events...a few dances.”
“Yeah, I know about the flying-flame-butterfly waltz you guys did. I would have been totally jealous if I was there but it doesn’t bother me now. Plus with our swing dance moves, we can do way better stuff than just float through the air.”
Star shrunk in her seat a bit as she continued. “True, but...th-this one might hurt.”
The young man raised a brow, “Oh boy.”
“Remember the Love Sentence, Parole Denied tour?”
“The one they canceled because Justin Towers had to go into rehab after puking on a bunch of fans?
“We went to two of their European shows. Just Tom and I.”
“WHA!? YOU NEVER TOLD ME THAT!”
“Tom wanted to bring you to one but I was still smarting from that Jackie concert mess.”
The young man just shook his head in disappointment. “I can't believe you saw them without me. You know, Truth or Truth doesn’t feel very fun this time.”
“Yeah-yeah, that’s what I get for forcing you to play.”
Marco took a deep breath as he resolved to keep his Star in a good mood and he knew the best way to do it. “Alright, any question. Go ahead, no holding back. Everything’s on the table so have fun with it.”
“Really?” Star peeked over as she asked.
“Yup, anything.”
“You sure?”
Marco put a hand on her shoulder to reinforce the point.
“Ah...wow, the pressure is on. So-o-o are you still fine with us breaking the Blood Moon curse? No-no-no, I have a better one. Do you think I look better with make-up or without? Wait-wait, ah...I feel like I need to come up with a really good question now!”
“I think about the Blood Moon sometimes. I’m glad we broke it but I’m pretty sure we’d figured out a way to be happy together even if we hadn’t. As for make-up, my vote would be without but I do recognize that it helps you feel more confident.”
“Now that I want to come up with a good one I can’t think of anything! All I was going to do was ask you was silly stuff!”
“You want some help?”
Star bite her lower lip as she thought. “I don’t need help, I’m awesome at Truth or Truth! I-I-I...I need your help.”
“How about we talk about marriage stuff.”
“Like what kind of weapons do you want to give out as wedding favors?”
“Like when do you want to start having kids?”
“...u-h...are you asking me this?”
“Sure, you ran out of time so that’s my next question for you.”
As Marco waited for Star to form an answer the RV began slowing down and for a few seconds he was pretty sure he saw one of her eyes twitching.
“...w-aah...”
“Star, did...did I break you?”
The young woman’s brow wrinkled as she finally came back with her answer. “You know I totally-totally-totally-totally want to have kids but my brain is not in anyway ready to go there right now. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but things are kinda perfect for us. We’re doing great and it’s weird to say but I’m really enjoying college. We have all sorts of great friends and our families are great...w-we have a lot of ‘great’ in our lives! On top of that everyone finally seems to have recovered from the Cleave and a lot of families are thriving in ways we never could have predicted. Why would I want to think about throwing a wrench into all that? At this point in my life everything is pretty perfect and I want to have time to enjoy it! Perfect us, perfect here, perfect now. Having kids is going to be awesome but I’m not ready to move on from our perfect world yet.”
Marco sat back in his seat blown away by her answer. “Wow, I didn’t realize you felt that way.”
“Until you got me thinking, I...I didn’t realize either.”
The young couple sat in silence as they both mulled over Star’s words.
.
Several minutes later the RV is parked and the two best friends are walking toward a nearby hill, phone lights in hand. Star wanted to stretch her legs so going for a short hike seemed like the best way to do it.
Everything was as they expected. The air was still and the only sounds were the occasional water drops falling from above. Below them was sand, dirt, gravel, and a few random boulder that had fallen from the ceiling. Everything was as they expected, until Marco accidentally kicked a tin can.
Star peered over, “What the corn was that?”
Wandering around with their heads down they found a pile of paper trash, old canned corn containers, and eventually signs of a fire pit. From what they could piece together they'd stumbled into an abandoned post-Cleave campsite. What was unusual however, there were markings on the ground that look like someone had been dragged away.
Marco followed the tracks with his light. “You want to check it out?”
“Dah! We’re adventures Marco.” Grabbing his arm she pulled him forward. “Come on slowpoke, I want to see where this leads-s-s-”
Star's words fell off as they approached a cliff side that was tucked behind the hill they were walking around. There leaning against the rocky façade was a twenty foot wide sign that read ‘Olive Garden’. Beyond that were scores of abandoned buildings stacked next to and on top of each other. Mixed in with the mess were a collection of gravestones all scattered throughout like wild flowers in a field.
The former knight rubbed the back of his neck as he gazed at the scene. “Wow.”
“Marco, what is all this?”
“There’s a Denny’s and up there is an Applebee’s. I remember when I was a kid I got food poisoning from one of their appetizers. And on top of that TGI Friday's is some sort of mausoleum.”
Star’s eyes scanned across the apocalyptic landscape. “Is this where all the missing chain restaurants and graveyards went?”
“I remember reading about a bunch of things that were never found after the Cleave. Maybe chain restaurants and graveyards ended up here.”
Taking his hand, Star began leading Marco through the closest Waffle House entrance. “Come on, we’re going to see what’s inside.”
The pair entered the first building. Within was a maze of booths, kitchen equipment, and half-broken walls. Star and Marco carefully stepped around grave markers and debris following a path that seemed to connect each themed restaurant to the next.
Star’s voice trembled slightly as they walked. “Why would the Cleave have done this? Look, there are still dirty dishes and tips on the tables. People must have been right in the middle of eating and-and-and then it was all gone. Even the grave markers have flowers like someone visited right before everything merged. Why would the magic hide places like this?”
“I don’t know Star, maybe somehow the Underworld was the best place for all-” Marco’s words were interrupted by the noise of distant dishes crashing to the floor. Quickly they turned their lights as they searched for the source of the noise.
“Hello! Anyone there? We don’t mean any harm. Just me, Star Butterfly and my fiancé Marco Diaz on…on an adventure.”
For a few fleeting seconds their thoughts jumped back to being fourteen and watching zombie movies while sitting together on the living room sofa. Just like in those memories, undead figures began appearing within doorways, around corners, and behind counters. And just like in all those cheesy low budget shows, the walkers clearly saw the young couple as this week's special. “Arrgghh! Arrrrgh! Awwwrgh!”
Realizing what was about to happen Star and Marco knew better than to stay and talk. Instead they sprinted together out the way they came kicking and punching every limb that reached out to grab them. With just one salad bar to go, a particularly loud zombie blocked the main exit. Undeterred, Star knocked him over with a flying kick.
“Star, get the RV started!” Marco tossed a few tables and a dessert display in an attempt to block the path behind them but gave up once we saw a zombie horde spilling out from the surrounding establishments.
With keys in hand the former princess tossed open the door. Once in the driver’s seat she turned on the ignition, all ready to go. After hurdling over a few of the quicker undead, Marco was inside the RV securing the exit. As he rushed to his seat he could hear groaning coming from every direction, but to his surprise the vehicle wasn't moving.
“Star, is everything okay? I’d like to get out of there before they try climbing in through the sunroof.”
“Marco, look at these two right in front of us?” Star pointed at a couple of female zombies dressed in similar gray dresses that had been in fashion on Mewni a hundred years before. “They look like each other. I wonder if they were sisters. And that pair there, they look like a married couple. I wonder if they had kids and all that. Hey, do you think mindless undead still think about their families and each other?”
The former knight was doing his best not to panic as he answered. “I don’t know, maybe!? I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but it’s time to stop shipping zombies and get us out of here. Also, I think we're going to have to run over a few.”
“I know, I know.”
With that Star honked the horn before the RV slowly rolled forward. The former princess did her best to avoid as many undead as she could, but the cabin still shook a few times as they went over several mewman shaped ‘speed bumps’.
A few minutes later they were driving back the way they came. Other than the noise of the engine, the cabin was silent as the young couple tried to wrap their heads around what they'd discovered.
“Marco, remember what I said about our world being perfect?”
“Yeah.”
“I still think that we’re awesome and now is pretty great but maybe…maybe I wasn't looking hard enough at our world.”
.
.
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Hey, you made it to the end! First off, thank you for reading this mess. Second, I have a favor to ask. Go write a comment on one of the other contest stories you like even if it’s just a simple ‘Thank you for writing this.’ There haven’t been very many contest entries the last few months and it would be good to make sure all the writers we have left feel appreciated. Thanks. - Olin
https://www.fanfiction.net/~olinnordenn
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u/GentlemanStarco
u/Wraithdagger12

(This is the thirty-ninth and first part of Gen. 3 in this new 87-part series I’m starting, where I make a sort-of “profile” for each character. Each post has headcanons for the cast before and after Total Drama, with some headcanons taking place during seasons)
Today is the profile for the first boot of Pahkitew Island, Beardo. Beardo, the silent DJ, the sound effects specialist, and the man with a large and thick beard for his age. With that out of the way, here is the profile.

1. Full Name: Jaden Zachary Williams
2. Born: March 23, 1993 (age 29), Ann Arbor, Michigan
3. Beardo is from the outskirts of Ann Arbor, Michigan. He got into imitating noises when he was 3 after hearing the sounds of birds chirping outside his house. Beardo got into making noises on turntables when he was 4, after seeing his father perform at a party as the DJ
4. Beardo was always quite reserved when he was younger, not really talking to or socializing with anyone, which got Beardo bullied for a while. To find someone that Beardo could relate to, he joined a band class and played the trombone, which meant that Beardo could put his talents to good use
5. Another reason why Beardo was a loner for most of his life was simply because of the way he looked. Maybe it was the stain on his shirt he got from eating a hot dog in Chicago and not being able to wash it off. Maybe it was the beard he let grow. Ultimately, he stayed a nobody until his one-episode appearance in Pahkitew, gaining him some fame back at school
6. Beardo’s favorite genre of music is EDM. His favorite artists are a combination of Alan Walker, Martin Garrix, Tiësto, Avicii, Armin Van Buuren, Illenium, Swedish House Mafia, Gigi D’Agostino, DJ Encore, ATB, ItaloBrothers, and Hardwell
7. After Pahkitew Island, Beardo gained a little bit of fame at school, with a lot of his peers seeing his talents with sound effects and turntables. Beardo was asked to be the DJ at his school’s prom in 2012, getting to play the music at the dance
8. Izzy was one of the few original contestants to see Pahkitew Island when it came out. When she saw Beardo’s talents with sounds, Izzy invited Beardo to Owen’s yacht party in 2013. Beardo accepted the invitation and went to Mexico to perform at the yacht party as the DJ
9. Beardo graduated from the University of Colorado Boulder in 2015 with a degree in technology and music. Soon after, Beardo looked for any opportunities where he could be a DJ, usually at parties and clubs. Beardo got his chance at becoming a professional DJ at music festivals in 2017 when he signed up to be a part of the lineup at the Tomorrowland Festival in 2018
10. In 2018, Beardo became a fully-fledged DJ after collaborating with Harold at the Tomorrowland Festival in Belgium that year. In 2019, Beardo and Harold collaborated once more at Tomorrowland to perform for Avicii’s tribute concert. To both Harold and Beardo, the loss was personal since both have met and collaborated with Avicii in 2016 and 2017
11. While Beardo wasn’t remembered much by his castmates, he still had a good standing with the ones that did remember him. Beardo still kept in touch with Sammy, Jasmine, Shawn, and Leonard. Beardo performed as the DJ at Shawn and Jasmine’s wedding party in 2019. Beardo also heard about Leonard burning down Applebee’s, soon warning him of Sugar and her upcoming revenge
12. Nowadays, Beardo is still a professional DJ, performing at various festivals in Coachella, Miami, Mexico City, Las Vegas, Germany, Belgium, Amsterdam, and Sweden. Besides Harold, Beardo has so far collaborated with Illenium, Alan Walker, Tiësto, Armin Van Buuren, Martin Garrix, Ava Max, Sandro Cavazza, A$AP Rocky, Dua Lipa, John Newman, and X Ambassadors. While mostly collaborating with Harold or other EDM artists, Beardo has a solo career, with his stage name being Bee Air Dough

With that, Beardo’s profile is done. Up next is the profile for the second boot of Pahkitew, the first boot of RR, and the wizard, Leonard.

Company Name	Title	City
Contra Costa Community College District	Director of College Advancement (Los Medanos College)	Pittsburg
California Pizza Kitchen	Pasta Cook	Laguna Niguel
Challenger School	Teacher	San Jose
Southland Industries	Plumbing Designer, II (experience in Revit ++) (2550) (Alviso)	Alviso
Verizon Wireless	Retail Sales Representative	Antioch
Southland Industries	Senior Design Engineer - MEP Construction (2531) (Atherton)	Atherton
R+L Carriers	Over the Road Driver (OTR Driver)	Azusa
University of California Berkeley	Engineering - Assistant Professor	Berkeley
Edward Jones	Branch Office Administrator - Carmel, CA	Carmel
Ducommun Incorporated	Electrical Engineer II	Carson
California State University, Dominguez Hills	PM Technician	Carson
United Parcel Service	Warehouse Worker - No Interview Required	Castro Valley
Southland Industries	Senior Design Engineer - MEP Construction (2531) (Castro Valley)	Castro Valley
Applebee s Apple American Group	Cook BA	Chatsworth
Verizon Wireless	Retail Sales Representative - Hiring In Glendora CA	Chino
Scripps College	Dance - Faculty Position	Claremont
Pomona College	Psychological Science Lab Coordinator	Claremont
Journeyman Meat Company	Sales	Cloverdale
Verizon Wireless	Retail Sales Associate - Hiring In Placerville CA	Cool
Verizon Wireless	Retail Sales Representative	Cool
ANDREWSCAMPS	Teacher	Corte Madera
Hudson Group	Warehouse Worker	Coyote
Hudson Group	Warehouse Associate - Located in San Jose Airport	Coyote
Hudson Group	Storeman	Coyote
Verizon Wireless	Retail Sales Specialist - Hiring In El Cerrito CA	Danville

Hey guys, here are some recent job openings in ca. Feel free to comment here or send me a private message if you have any questions, I'm at the community's disposal! If you encounter any problems with any of these job openings please let me know that I will modify the table accordingly. Thanks!

Hello all :)! I want to start serving, but I’m not sure which entry level restaurants are known to give the best tips. I’ve heard Applebees and Chilis aren’t ideal to serve at, while I’ve heard that Texas Roadhouse is great in tips, but is annoying when it comes to line dancing. So, I’m not sure which restaurants I should ideally avoid or apply at.

I'll be staying in Detroit for a weekend at the end of August for a friend's 30th birthday. We have a group of about 10 and I'm looking for recommendations on the following:
-A nice-ish restaurant for dinner (doesn't have to be super upscale, but not looking to eat at an Applebee's) -A fun club that offers bottle service/has a good dance scene. Or even a spot in town where we could club hop -Good strip clubs (we will be a mix of men and women, most of the women haven't been to a strip club, but are super excited to check one out for the first time. Alcohol service preferred)
Thanks everyone!

The boys and I went to town last night. It was wild - highly recommend. We started at BLVD had some overpriced G&Ts and some hotdogs to start and made our moves after our boy Eson showed up. After chilling around the Ditmars area I whipped out the Reddit for some recommendations. This is how it went down:
We went to mermaids first, and honestly the $5 cover was a bit wild and when we went in, it was tame af no dances just a bunch of hookah smoke and Stellas… we dropped maybe $40 each in there and cut out. This was around 9:30 we made our way to riviera on Steinway. It was closed and didn’t open until 10:00. So we went to the Applebees for a shot of quila while we waited. Idk if you guys know but quila is wild and starts to get you in the zone.
Around 10:15 we go to Rivis and as we wait to be let in, my boy eson has flip flops and the bouncer said “we usually don’t, but we’ll make an exception” kinda of weird that they care about shoes in this establishment. Man oh man this place was wild. Just kept getting wilder as the night went on, we ended up getting kicked out of the bar area cause some vips rolled in and started throwing bills around, so we just kind of sat by them to get action with them throwing money, and it worked for a while.
This dancer approaches me and starts rubbing my back and my belly and asks if I want a dance. I wave her away cause I was eyeballing another dancer. A couple minutes go by and some casa amigos shots later, this other dancer finally comes over and ask me for a dance to which I agreed. Outta nowhere I’m being sent to the private room and she’s just dancing on me and I threw a wad of singles not realizing there were some $5 in there. At this point I was like fuck it we’re having a great time. As I leave the private room the hotdog from ditmars just bubbles and I let out a silent squat fart. We go to the bar and I look to my left and it’s the owner from a local pizza joint let’s call it “the Real Cellubis” is just going to town on the same dancer I turned away later. Another Amigos shot and the bouncer comes up to me and boyses and says “yo one of the patrons farted and we have to clear out to get rid of the smell”
Long story short, Rivis is dope af, def dig the spot and the boyses are trying to going to Showpalace when eson comes back next to tear it up.

​
Submitted into Reedsy contest 152 in response to prompt: Write about a character whose life changes for the better.
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains a healthy dose of swearing. Some real whoppers too, so I hope you're into that kind of stuff! Also contains: (SPOILER!) An allusion to grisly death. Enjoy!
1
“We have plenty of time.” Connie looked out the passenger's window, as a white whale of a cloud floated lazily across the sunny sky. “It’s our honeymoon, try to relax.”
“Sure we do sugarbride, I know that. We’ve got the rest of our lives!” Bobby tapped his phone screen awake and saw 3:44 P.M. “All I’m saying is if we get in there before 4:00, we can pay lunch price for the buffet, but they’ll bring out all the dinner food!”
Connie stretched her bare feet into the sunny spot on the dashboard. “Do you really want bargain-hunting sirloin steak to be what I remember about our first full day of marriage?”
“Of course not Mrs. Fletcher! But this is Prime Rib we’re talking about. Did you even SEE the sign?” Bobby rolled his eyes in an exaggerated display of offense. “Besides, if the meat you remember about our honeymoon comes from ‘The Blue Barn Buffet’, I’m doing something wrong!” He scrunched his face and grabbed his junk with both hands, jerking his hips.
Connie straightened up and slid her sandals back on. “Sweep me off my feet, loverboy.”
The Blue Barn sat in the corner of a nearly abandoned strip mall, about a mile from the Ohio Turnpike in a long-forgotten steel town. In front of the restaurant, Route 13 spilled north to south, perforated by a burned-out traffic light bouncing on saggy wiring. Sharing the traffic light with 13, and bordering the plaza was Billet Parkway. A shaggy fence of arborvitae separated the lot from traffic. Billet wound westbound, picking up steam as it unfolded into busier neighborhoods mixed with residential and industrial properties. Behind the restaurant sat a big walk-in cooler the size of a handyman’s storage shed, next to a pair of rented garbage dumpsters.
The parking lot was close to empty, besides what were probably employee cars lined up in a row at the front corner of the property. The Fletchers’ honeymoon carriage (more specifically, Bobby’s minivan) was backed into a corner spot, way in the back. There were plenty of spaces right by the front door but after driving all day they welcomed the chance to stretch their legs. Besides, it was their honeymoon! Bobby thought after dinner he might try to suggest they see just how Grand this Caravan really is before they drive the last leg of highway up to Niagara Falls.
Bobby pressed the keyless push-button once, revealing ACCY. on the dash panel. The speakers exploded with sound as the radio caught Allen Collins midway through his ‘Freebird’ guitar solo. Chords screamed through the static of a radio station a few miles too far away.
Bobby played air guitar with his right hand as he ran all the windows closed with the other. Connie sprang forward and gave the radio knob an annoyed smack. The radio’s display screen went blank immediately, but the noise didn’t stop- not all the way. They exchanged a puzzled look for an instant before realizing the noise wasn’t coming from the radio. It was sirens. Not too close, maybe 4 or 5 miles away, but it sounded like there were a lot of them.
“Really, Bob? Why couldn’t we have waited till Pittsburgh to stop? Maybe an Applebee’s? Or a B-Dubs? I’d be happy with a drive-thru sandwich if we got it from someplace that isn’t in an abandoned ghost town.”
Bobby could feel her irritation swelling. “You’re just hungry, honey. We’re perfectly safe. Once our bellies are full of steak and we’re back on the road, you’ll feel better.”
“Are you seriously mansplaining hunger to me?”
“Aw hell, Con, please don’t start that shit.”
“It’s not shit, BOB.”
The sirens droned on. Bobby’s eyes softened for a moment when he saw the hurt in her face. “Aw baby, I’m sorry. I know your feeli-“
He stopped mid-sentence, his attention pulled away. There was something shiny off in the far corner of the shopping plaza’s pock-marked tarmac. Flashcubes of reflected sunlight burst like a golden disco ball from the top of- of what exactly?
Connie squinted “Is that a… bike?” They both stared for a second allowing their eyes (and their minds) time to focus on what they saw.
Bobby’s turn, “Is he- is he naked?”
The sight grew stranger the closer it got. It was a bike. An oldie too, one of those 10-speed jobs with the skinny tires that were popular for racing back in the ’80s. There were a few rose-colored spots of paint left unconsumed by rust, and a “V” shaped notch in the frame between the handlebars and seat. The rider was a pale white glob of a man. Greasy mats of hair were the only thing between his skin and a filth that would probably never wash off. And as for being naked…
“I guess not,” Connie half asked, “if you count the backpack and… helmet?”
A faux gold hard hat, the kind you might see the mayor of a city wearing for some groundbreaking ceremony, bounced and wobbled atop the rider's brain bucket. Each ham of a shoulder wrapped with the camouflage armbands of a weathered backpack.
The couple saw no sign of where the bike seat might actually be underneath all that mess, but, to be fair, they didn’t look for it much.
The gap between them had been halved already, “How is he going so fast?” Bobby wondered. As if on cue they watched as the bike’s front tire slammed into a wide crack in the concrete, nearly sending the whole rig ass over elbows. The cycle rocked side to side violently. The fat man doubled down, standing up to smash the pedals forward beneath his lumbering hocks. He ripped up on the handlebars like an airline pilot staring into the Atlantic, shooting the bike out of the ravine and onto flat pavement. The Grime King regained his balance, though it did cost him his crown. The hard hat tumbled off of his head unnoticed and landed in a dusty pothole.
Picking up even more speed, Ole Grimey looked like he might have one more trick to pull off. He settled messily back onto the seat and let the pedals coast. Sitting bolt upright he let go of the handlebars and wormed his right arm free of the backpack strap. With a thrust of his torso, he flung the sack around his body and caught the left strap as it fell from his shoulder and down his arm. He launched the backpack as gracefully as an Olympic athlete, right through the dead nuts center of the open sliding door on the side of the trash dumpster.
The hollow THWACK! of the bag hitting the back of the steel box was like a starting pistol, sending the wacky racer into a frenzy. He reared his head back like a horse and put his whole body into those pedals.
The Fletchers were frozen in their seats as the rider passed by close enough for them to see clean lines of sweat streaming in rivers down his filthy mass. Grimes flew past the van without giving them a glance. The bike crashed up and over a curb and between two trees onto Billet Parkway, (another landing physics would never be able to explain), and disappeared from sight.
The couple sat still for a moment, Bobby offering a puzzled stare in the direction the Grime King vanished. It was Connie that broke the silence. “Who?... I mean what,... Bobby, what the hell!”
Bobby's eyes met his mate’s briefly and then narrowed, dulling as he turned his gaze towards the dumpster.
“Bobby, what the hell was that?”
Bobby answered with his own question. “What do you think is in that backpack?”
“What? No… Please, honey. What if it’s drugs?” Connie’s voice broke. “What if it’s a bomb?”
Bobby cracked his door open to the soft dinging alert of the van reminding him the ignition was still part way on. He pushed his door full open and slid one foot out to rest on the blacktop. Connie was on the brink of full-blown panic, but she chose anger instead.
“GODDAMMIT BOB STOP!” She wiped her lips with the back of her hand and looked at her husband. “We need to leave. We need to call the police and tell them we saw a friggin’ shaved bear doing some shady shit on a bicycle. OK? Please drive me away from here, Bobby.” She was sobbing. Bobby took a deep breath and let a little of his weight back onto the seat. He opened the storage compartment between them, fished out a travel package of tissues, and pulled one free. Bobby took his time tenderly wiping his young wife’s tears, and then stepped out onto the pavement and closed the door behind him.
2
Joseph coughed hot smoke from a joint that should have been roached three hits ago, out the window of his dusty old ford. He turned the volume down on some ancient rock screaming guitar shit his old man would’ve enjoyed as the radio screen read 2:44 pm.
“Well…” he sighed “if this piece of crap makes it till November, at least the clock will be right again.”
16 minutes until he had to punch in and start scrubbing pots and pans. What a fucking life! Why should he have to drive this crap car to this crap job? He gets crap hours, crap pay, and after all that does he get any appreciation? Nope. More crap. He should probably consider himself lucky he was able to take the day off yesterday to marry Kourtney, but all he could give her was a crap wedding at the county seat and a crap dinner at The Cracker Barrel.
Kourtney deserved more, so much more! So did Joseph for that matter. He’s smart, hard-working… If he’d been born somewhere normal instead of this empty shit town, he’d probably be on top! Even now he felt like all he needed was one lucky break to make everything better. One little boost could get him and his new bride out of the trailer park and living like other people, real people. “Those people,” he breathed, as he looked at the couple parked in that minivan with 'Just Married!' scrawled across the side window in shoe polish.
If Joseph and Kourtney had it made like those folks, they sure as hell wouldn’t be stopping at the ‘Blue BARF Buffet’. Vegas baby! That’s where they’d go. The place where cash equals class! Now those Vegas buffets are worth a honeymoon trip. Kourtney deserves Vegas! They both do!
Joseph was snapped out of his daydream by a hollow metallic bang. He looked up just in time to see a naked dopesick gargantuan on an ancient rusty bike fly out from behind the dumpster and across the lot. “This fuckin’ town” Joe chuckled. “Bet them hoity-toity honeymooners weren’t expecting a show! Wooo! Shake it for ‘em Jelly-George!”
He watched with mild amusement as the rider passed close enough in front of the van for the couple to smell him and then blasted through the bushes, disappearing onto Billet Parkway.
Joe’s amusement turned to curiosity as he spied on the unsuspecting pair in the van. Obviously, they didn’t see the same humor he did in the makeshift burlesque performance. They appeared to be in a pretty heated argument. The man seemed like he wanted to get out but wouldn’t fully commit. Just as it seemed like The Mrs. had won and they were going to stay put, the driver got out onto the pavement and closed his door. This must have really pissed his old lady off because the next thing Joe knew she was screaming out the window like she was demon-possessed.
“GET BACK HERE!… I’M YOUR WIFE YOU MOTHER FUCKING COCKSUCKER! COME BACK TO ME RIGHT NOW!”
The man seemed not to hear her, and finally, she got out too. Now Joseph was interested enough for a closer look. He creaked out of the rusty old door as quietly as possible and left it hanging a few inches from closed. He slipped between the arborvitae at the edge of the lot, and down Billet Parkway, where he re-emerged next to the minivan in the back corner.
Joe could see the woman closing in on the trash dumpster, but now he didn’t know where the man went. She was shaking and crying when she made it to the front of the can and stopped.
Joseph crept around the back of the van to the driver's side, where the front door stood open. When he looked back toward the restaurant he could see the lady standing outside the open door of the trash bin as the man popped his head out from inside. She was yelling something Joe couldn’t make out, but she stopped out of nowhere and took a surprised step backward. The Mister leaned a little farther out of the dumpster now and he was holding something.
Joe rubbed his face as the man unzipped the object, (a backpack!) and held it open between them. The lady forgot all about being sad when she reached both hands into the bag and pulled them out clenched full…
3
“…OF CASH?!?”
“Who gives a shit WHY, Connie? Just take it and let me get outta this fuckin’ thing!”
Bobby shoved the backpack into Connie’s midsection, pushing her back out of the way. He clambered out of the steel cube head first and somersaulted to the asphalt.
He quickly rose, ignoring the cold slop that ran down his leg. Connie let out a small yelp as her groom wrapped his fingers around her bicep and squeezed, pulling her around the back of the hopper, out of the sight line of the building.
“It’s all hundreds! Holy shit! there’s gotta be 50K in there… Probably more!”
Connie gauged the wild look in her husband's eye. “We can’t just keep it, Bobby. We have to call someone. What about those sirens? What about that …man… who threw it here? What if he comes back?”
“Connie, look at me. I need you to listen to me closely. Honey, this is meant to be! We’re one day into starting our life together. We’re 1000 miles from home. We’re standing behind an empty restaurant in an empty town with a bag full of cash, and our van is right there. They both allowed their gaze to follow Bobby’s pointer finger to their vehicle parked not 30 yards away.
For a quick instant, neither one could put a finger on what was out of place, until it suddenly clicked.
“Bob! Someone’s in our van!”
“What the fuck? HEY, YOU SON OF A BITCH! HEY GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE!”
Connie held the backpack shakily against her chest as she pulled herself into her husband’s embrace.
“I’m calling the cops ass-hole! You can’t just steal our fucking car, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?”
Wide-eyed, Bobby pulled Connie to his side even harder. The tires lurched forward with a chirp and a puff of smoke as the tread bit into the dusty blacktop.
By the time they realized the stranger had no interest in stealing their car it was too late. They stood frozen like petrified trees while their terrified voices joined together, much the same as their young lives had joined just yesterday.
“Noooooooooooooo!!!”
4
Sunlight poured through the open window and bounced playfully off of a wet plate before dancing around the single-wide’s meager kitchen. Kourtney’s face, far too tired for her young age, shone with a threadbare beauty that was only earned through a lifetime of indigence.
She blew her bangs out of her eyes and dried the plate on a faded dish towel. She had made peace long ago with her lot in life, but she couldn’t help feeling that twang of wanting for more. What kind of honeymoon was this?
Kourtney pulled out a kitchen chair and a cigarette and sat down for a rest. She unlocked her phone (3:54 pm) and was about to check her Facebook when the device lit up, and a moment later her face.
“Joseph! Hey baby! Everything ok? You should be starting work.”
“Hey, Kourt! Everything’s great honey!” She heard a confidence (maybe even a smile?) in his voice that had been missing for too long.
“I owe you a proper honeymoon sweet-tea and it’s time for me to pay up!”
Kourtney giggled “that sounds great but you’re at work and we’ve got rent to pay. Now, quit being silly and tell me what’s going on!”
“What’s going on is Vegas baby… that’s all you need to know! Just grab what you can’t live without and meet me out front in ten… It’s finally our turn to win.”

Purtle's Internet Lineup for May 11th, 2022! 4:05pm
Pics:

• flying pikachu and friends https://twitter.com/AsakoLine/status/1523568933768695810
  
• Love hearing about ‘the sanctity of life’ from the same people who have spent the last two years arguing that killing grandma is a small price to pay for being able to sit in an Applebee’s. https://twitter.com/ZenOfDesign/status/1523345546748260352
  
• the point of a protest https://twitter.com/feyburnestatus/1524117998717480961
  
• i was there https://twitter.com/_DuxNet/status/1523766296210395138
  

Clips:

• Jerma listens to music https://clips.twitch.tv/WittyWonderfulGrassBleedPurple-_nKasb2dZ7fbOqxy
  
• The ogre fish has only been spotted a few times in decades of ocean research https://old.reddit.com/TheDepthsBelow/comments/un8ftk/the_ogre_fish_has_only_been_spotted_a_few_times/
  
• cat engine https://clips.twitch.tv/DarkResourcefulNuggetsDBstyle-_shORezlJMhZlTi4
  
• its time https://twitter.com/Akfamilyhome/status/1382665737945247747
  
• content we had to cut from The Stanley Parable: Ultra Deluxe https://twitter.com/crowsx3/status/1523698005450362880
  

Videos

• Yoshi Kart Stunts - 5MadMovieMakers [2:14] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kOa5UTJ5FQQ
  
• Nintendo Indie Showcase [24:52] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mV3tesGHSFg
  
  • more details below

Articles/News/Other

• Nintendo Indie Showcase [24:52] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mV3tesGHSFg
  
  • Thread by Wario64 on the showcase https://twitter.com/Wario64/status/1524382516320215041
  • Embark on an epic soulslike treasure hunt when Another Crab’s Treasure by AggroCrabGames comes to NintendoSwitch in 2023! https://twitter.com/NintendoAmerica/status/1524395690784350209
  • Take on the role of a gruff woodsman and engage in side-scrolling action combat with your mysterious Gunbrella in 2023 https://twitter.com/NintendoAmerica/status/1524392748115283968
  • Join Elec on a shocking mission to bring the light back to the world with his head, literally and figuratively, when ElecHead comes to NintendoSwitch this summer! https://twitter.com/NintendoAmerica/status/1524390611998154753
  • Build up your farm, befriend townsfolk, grow ooblets, and have dance-offs when Ooblets comes to NintendoSwitch this summer https://twitter.com/NintendoAmerica/status/1524389786337026048
  • My thoughts/details as i watched:
  • elechead, gunbrella, and another crabs treasure prob most interesting to me. tho the gibbon one maybe neat too
  • ooblets - cozy/weird animal crossing x creature game. looks neat.
  • batora: lost haven - action rpg
  • Elechead - 2d puzzle + platformer. looks solid - 1 man dev team
  • soundfall - rythm based dungeon crawler action game - co-op available up to 4 (including online) over140 songs to go with. Available TODAY
  • Wildfrost - tactical roguelike deathbuildecarddeck game. this holiday
  • Totall Accurate Battle Simulator - this summer
  • Gunbrella - noir punk action adventure
  • We are OFK - narrative game about a music group - episodes released weekly
  • Silt - underwater puzzle adventure game. can possess sea creatures. available june
  • Mini Motorways - traffic puzzle game. has daily and weekly challenges. as well as real life example challenges. Available today
  • Wayward Strand - narrative adventure, flying hospital set in 1970s austrailia i think it said. July 21
  • Cult of the Lamb. Action adventure randomly generated land. this year
  • Another Crab's Treasure - brand news soulslike x shellslike. action adventure Available 2023
  • then they showed a buncha games at once without longer video
  • oneshot: world machine edition - later this summer. adventure game
  • Gibbon: beyond the trees - looked like a platformer? - later today
  • Idol Manager - august 25th
  • Card Shark - demo later today
  • Cursed to Golf - this summer
  • A guidebook of Babel - this fall
  • OPUSL: Echo of Startsong - Full Bloom edition - available later today
• The level of pregnancy-related deaths in the U.S. is a national tragedy. We are basically alone in the developed world in the elevated level and rising rate of maternity deaths.
  
• Twitter implements new policy to limit visibility of, and even permanently ban, accounts who post duplicative or ‘copypasta’ tweets. This includes “identical or near-identical content Tweeted by an individual account or many accounts.” https://twitter.com/PopBase/status/1524097880197267458
  
• There is no “pro life movement.” Pro-life would be pro-healthcare, school lunches for hungry kids and mercy for migrants fleeing literal death. Pro-life would fight poverty and fund kids education and kids and maternal healthcare. Call them what they are: a forced birth movement. https://twitter.com/JoyAnnReid/status/1523828448329932801
  
• reminder that the great barrier reef is dying - We appear to have normalised the collapse of the Great Barrier Reef, 90% of whose parts have bleached this year. Or so the lack of horror and fury suggests. What else are we prepared to overlook, so that fossil fuel companies can keep making their billions? https://twitter.com/GeorgeMonbiot/status/1524266684999254018
  
• HUGE! Connecticut is the first state to pass a safe-state law for transgender and abortion refugees from criminalizing states like TX/AL/AR. Bars summons/subpoenas/compliance with out of stte warrants and allows those charged to sue for damages! https://twitter.com/ErinInTheMorn/status/1524200246330417154
  

(N) Previously on Hell’s Kitchen…
GR: “Now, you are all wondering why there are two chairs from behind. What challenge is this.”
Both Teams: “Blind Taste Test”
GR: “You are absolutely right“
(N) The top 9 battled it out in the blind taste test challenge, and when Ishaan got the red team off to a strong start.
Ishaan: “Chicken” … “Pear” … “Cauliflour” … “Oatmeal”
(N) The lead continued as Missy failed to identify anything…
Missy: “Turnip” … “Lobster” … “Potato” … “Walnuts”
(N) …with her teammate Hannah being blasted.
Hannah: “That was very sticky”
(N) And in the end of the challenge, Ken clinched the victory for the blue team.
Ken: “Is that a bell pepper?”
GR: “Congratulations, you’ve just won it for your team”
(N) At dinner service, Kara got her new team off to a slow start.
Kara: “I’ve got scallops dropping for four minutes”
GR: “Now your going way too over yourself“
(N) And she didn’t agree with Xavier on her scallops, when she sent them to the pass…
Xavier: “Are you sure that you need a bit more time with those scallops?, because they have good colour”
Kara: “Let’s just wait”
(N) …and when she sent up the scallops…
GR: “THOSE SCALLOPS ARE BLACK!“
(N) …it was dark followed by under.
GR: “F**k me, THE SCALLOPS ARE RAW!”
(N) It resulted in an automatic ejection for Kara, and the second ejection of the season.
GR: “APRON OFF! JACKET OFF! YOURE DONE!”
(N) Despite that, the blue team finished service on a high note.
Ken: “I need seven minutes on duck”
Xavier: “I have six minutes on salmon”
(N) Over in the red kitchen…
GR: “AY CHELSEA, IF YOU DARE BRING ME SLIMY SALAD, IM GONNA KICK YOUR A**! GOT IT?”
(N) Chelsea’s slimy salad, and Steph’s risotto…
They all take a bite of the risotto.
Chelsea: “That’s crunchy”
GR: “YOUR RIGHT! THE RICE IS F******G RAW!
(N) …lead to a loss of leadership from Steph.
Steph: “I feel like the service just gets worse, and I feel like the situation is too much for me”
GR: “Well if you think it’s too much, then I want this team to have a meeting and come with a new leader”
(N) Then Chelsea became the leader for the red kitchen.
Chelsea: “Umm, Chef Ramsay, I’ll take it”
(N) …and she took over the leadership.
Chelsea: “Just half of the container. Steph, do not add too much dressing to the salad”
GR: “Finally a leader”
(N) Both teams finished service on a heavy note, but chef Ramsay still wanted a nominee from both team. The red team’s nominee was…
Chelsea: “Missy”
(N) …while the blue team’s nominee was…
Ken: “Xavier”
(N) …but in the end, Chef Ramsay was nice enough to not eliminate anyone.
GR: “I’m not sending anybody home”
Xavier (C): “You must be joking, right?”
GR: “Both teams had their best service yet, and due to Kara’s ejection, I had a feeling that I didn’t need to send anybody home.“
(N) And now, the continuation of Hell’s Kitchen.
GR: “Now get out of here”
Xavier: “Can you believe that the weakest link is gone?”
Carl: “I can’t” (C) “Last service was definitely a rocky start. We had this deaf girl on our team, and she was useless”
Ishaan: “Do you want to sit in the hot tub?”
Carl: “Absolutely”
Ishaan and Carl head to the hot tub.
Carl (C): “I definitely share this close bond with Ishaan, especially since I moved over to the blue team. It’s very nice that I enjoy his company”
Ishaan: “So who do you think is the weakest chef on the red team right now?”
Carl: “Oh, I think it’s probably Missy. Ive seen a number of her nominations”
Ishaan (C): “Everytime we win dinner service, it seems like Missy or Hannah are the weakest chefs on the red team. One, they’re young. Two, I’ve seen them nominated more times”
(Cut to the red team)
Missy: “I can’t believe I dodged that bullet”
Chelsea: “You’ve probably dodged a lot of bullets, and if you screw up another service. I think that you will be nominated again, got it?”
Missy: “Yes”
Chelsea (C): “Despite my close bond with Missy, I still feel like she is the weakest chef on the red team. I really hope that she doesn’t mess up again”
Missy: “I really hope that we can bounce back from our mistakes”
Chelsea: “Well, this is your chance”
Missy: “I got your back”
(Cut to Chef Ramsay standing in the dining room)
GR: “Line up, everybody”
Both teams line up.
GR: “Good morning”
Both Teams: “Good morning”
GR: “Now, it’s time for your next challenge, and I’m going to explain one thing to you, anything can’t go wrong without?…”
Ishaan: “Dessert”
GR: “Ishaan, you are absolutely right. Your next challenge will be a dessert challenge, and each of you, will be making 4 classic desserts”
Xavier (C): “OMG, I’m so good at baking, I would definitely win”
GR: “The deserts you will be making are cheesecake, brownie, strawberry shortcake, and my favorite one … trifle“
Hannah (C): “A trifle? Never heard of that”
GR: “You all have one hour to make your best dessert. Now, decide amongst yourselves who’s doing what! Your time starts … now!”
(Skips the cooking)
GR: “Alright, now you all had a chance to make your dessert, and now before you present them to me, I have one person coming to judge them. Please welcome, Daphne Oz”
The chefs cheer as Daphne walks in the kitchen.
Chelsea (C): “Holy s**t, Daphne walks in. I’m so stunned”
GR: “Alright, now Daphne and I will rate your dishes from 1 to 5. The team with the most points at the end willl win the challenge. First up, we will be tasting the cheesecake”
(N) In today’s dessert challenge. Chef Ramsay and Daphne Oz will be tasting each and every desert. Whoever has the most points at the end wins the challenge. First up is the cheesecake battle. Made by Steph on the red team, and Ishaan on the blue team.
GR: “Alright Ishaan, describe to us what this is”
Ishaan: “Alright, so this is a Black Forest cheesecake with a Cherry sauce. I also added some sauce to the cheesecake so it can give it that nice swirl, and I also have a vanilla bean whipped cream”
Daphne: “It looks so nice, want to give it a try?”
GR: “Sure”
Both chefs taste Ishaan’s cheesecake.
Daphne: “I find it a little too sweet”
GR: “I think that the Cherry sauce swirl does add texture, but the sauce on top, I agree does make it sweeter, what should you give him?”
Daphne: “I’m giving it a 3”
GR: “I agree. 3 out 5. Ishaan, your team is at 6 points”
Daphne: “Alright Steph”
Steph: “So today, I have a mango guava cheesecake with a passionfruit whipped cream”
GR: “I like the presentation”
Daphne: “Shall we dive in?”
GR: “Absolutely”
Both chefs taste Steph’s cheesecake.
Daphne: “This tastes like a match made heaven”
GR: “Delicious, what’s your rating?”
Daphne: “4 out of 5”
GR: “I agree, your dish gets a 4, congrats Steph”
(N) With the red team in the lead by 2, Carl and Chelsea hope to wow the judges with their take on brownies.
Chelsea: “So right here, this is a fudge brownie with nuts in it. I also have a chocolate fudge drizzle with orange whipped cream and toasted pecans”
Daphne: “This is an excellent presentation”
GR: “It looks like I’ve been invited to a party”
Daphne: “Let’s dive in”
Both chefs taste Chelsea’s brownie.
GR: “The brownie is actually nice, but I don’t see that much sauce”
Daphne: “The brownie is actually nice, the nuts give it a crunch and I love the pecans”
GR: “Daphne, what’s your rating”
Daphne: “Your dish gets a 4”
GR: “3. 7 points. Good job, Chelsea”
Chelsea: “Thank you chef”
GR: “Alright Carl, tell me what you made”
Carl: “So I made my version of the Applebee’s blue ribbon brownie”
Daphne: “How did you manage to make the ice cream?”
Carl: “I can’t tell you that it’s a secret”
GR: “There’s also too much sauce, I want you to take your time. Despite that, let’s dig in”
Chefs taste Carl’s dish.
GR: “The brownie taste’s dry, and it’s sunk in caramel and chocolate”
Daphne: “I agree, if you had it in the oven for less, it would’ve been more moist. I also find out that your ice cream is melting. Because of this, I’m giving it a 2”
GR: “I agree, not your best performance”
Carl (C): “I can’t believe that I f****d up an Applebee’s brownie in front of Chef Ramsay, this feels like an insult”
(N) With the red team leading 15 - 10, in the next round, Ken and Missy present their take on strawberry shortcake.
GR: “Alright, Ken, describe what you made”
Ken: “So this is a strawberry shortcake. I diced the strawberries evenly, and then I topped it off with a dollop of whipped cream”
Chefs taste Ken’s dessert.
GR: “The biscuit is nice and fluffy”
Daphne: “Also, the strawberries are cut nicely, and I love the whipped cream”
GR: “I’m giving it a 4”
Daphne: “I agree, well done Ken”
(N) With Ken recieving a perfect score, Missy also hopes to keep the red team in the lead with her strawberry short cake with a vodka infused whipped cream.
Daphne: “You can see that the strawberries are very chunky”
GR: “And also, the whipped cream is bland, I’m giving your dish a 2”
Daphne: “Your dish gets a 3”
(N) With the red team continuing their lead 20 - 18…
GR: “It all comes down to the trifle”
(N) …Hannah and Xavier are the last to go for their team, first up, Hannah presents her…
Hannah: “It’s a tripple berry chocolate truffle with chocolate cake, raspberry whipped cream, and then I added diced strawberries, raspberries, and blackberries”
Chefs taste the trifle.
Daphne: “The presentation looks like a mess, and the whipped cream is over-whipped”
GR: “Plus, the chocolate cake looks broken. I wouldn’t even serve that at my restaurant. Big disappointment, 1 out 5”
Daphne: “I gotta agree with him. Take your time while doing things”
Hannah (C): “I cannot believe what just happened. My trifle was definitely the most fragile plating tonight. Im afraid we will lose this challenge.“
(N) With the red team at 22 points, Xavier hopes to wow Chef Ramsay and Daphne with his…
Xavier: “Island trifle, with a lemon spongecake, orange whipped cream, and then I have diced some pineapples, mangoes, blueberries and kiwi”
GR: “That looks more neat”
Daphne: “I agree, and I love the colour”
Chefs taste Xavier’s trifle.
Daphne: “This must be like the best desert of the night”
GR: “Definitely. I also like the sponge. It’s moist, and it gives me citrus vibes. You’re probably lucky because I am going to give your dish a 5 out of 5”
Daphne: “I agree, Xavier, your dish gets a 5 as well, you won it for your team”
The blue team cheer.
Ken (C): “Holy s**t, I cannot be proud that Xavier pulled it off. I like having him as a teammate”
GR: “Men, I want all of you to get ready, because all of you are going to have the moment of pure relaxation. I’m sending all of you to the Voie Spa at the Paris Las Vegas”
The men cheer over their reward.
Carl (C): “A spa day? What more can I ask for?”
GR: “You will enjoy massages, and foot rubs. Trust me, you’ll want it, go head to the dorms and get changed”
Steph (C): “You’re kidding me, right? The guys get a spa day and I don’t. That is unfair. Well, you win some and you lose some, well we have won almost every challenge, since the teams became men vs women”
GR: “Uhh, ladies. Your punishment is going to be anything but relaxation, because today, is recycling day.“
Hannah (C): “Oh no!”
GR: “I want all of you to sort through that big pile of trash, and I want you to throw which item belongs in the bin. Now, head to the dorms, and chef will call you when she’s ready”
Hannah: “I can’t believe I did that” (C) “I f****d up my dish in today’s challenge, and because of that, I have to sort through trash. Unbelievable, just unbelievable”
Chelsea: “Hey, look at me! It’s not your first punishment“
Hannah: “I know, I just messed up most of my dish, which is the reason why we are sorting through trash”
Chelsea: “Hey, you gotta believe me, everyone makes mistakes” (C) “Right now, Hannah is getting emotional, her dish was fragile, and she is the reason why we are in this punishment. Just get over it already”
(cut to blue team at the spa reward)
Ken: “Beautfiul”
Xavier: “I’m here for the champs” (C) “This reward is definitely one thing that I need. A massage”
Carl: “Do you think the red team is starting to crumble?”
Xavier: “Of course”
Ken: “I used to hate it in the beginning because I lost like almost every challenge, but somehow or other, I get to enjoy the victories” (C) ”Being away from Hell’s Kitchen is the best way to care, because I did a bunch of punishments, but then winning these rewards at the end is a great feeling”
Ishaan: “I think I need a back rub” (C) “The reward reminds me of growing up in Sri Lanka, because I grew up there with no running water, or electricity”
Ken: “How do you think the girls are doing?”
Xavier: “I think they totally smell”
The blue team starts laughing.
(Cut to red team at their punishment)
Meghan: “Alright, this challenge was your bog disappointment. The results blew from a score of 28 - 22. As your punishment, you are to get going and sort through the trash”
Red Team: “Yes chef”
Hannah (C): “Losing the challenge sucked, and now we gotta sort through these trash”
Chelsea: “Ew”
Steph: “At least a spa day would be great” (C) “I hate sorting through f*****g trash”
Meghan: “Make sure you put the trash in the correct bin”
Missy: “We already know, Meghan, you don’t need to tell us”
Chelsea (C): “This punishment is definitely one of the most disgusting. I’m throwing out compost, by garbage, by recycling, and it’s like (throws up)”
Hannah: “Im definitely going to throw up”
Steph: “Hannah don’t”
Hannah runs to a bin and throws up.
Steph: “Disgusting” (C) ”Seeing Hannah throw up from the punishment, it feels like she can’t take it”
(Cut to the blue team at their spa reward shower)
(Shower watering sound effect)
Ken (C): “The reward does not get any better, because we also get to take showers”
Xavier: “Hey Carl, how are you doing in there”
Carl: “I’m making sure that I am fully clean” (C) “After all these past challenges, I do get sweaty so the shower is probably the best part of the reward, and then we also get a feast”
Ken: “This is the best reward”
Ishaan: “I agree, who doesn’t want a massage”
Ken: “Not that, I’m talking about food” (C) “One of the best parts of this reward other than a massage or shower is the food. It’s like heaven”
Xavier: “I love the bond that we’re getting”
Ishaan: “I know” (C) “Ken and I have been locked through Hell’s Kitchen the most and we have also done the most punishments. We also did more than Xavier and Carl”
Carl: “The girls are probably starting to fall apart” (C) “While I’m sipping one bit of champagne left in my glass, I’m looking at the rest of my team, and I’m like, we should dance”
Carl dances in front of the blue team.
Xavier: “There you go” (C) “Carl is such a funny guy to be around, he’s trying to get us entertained, and this made me want join him dancing”
Carl: “Can we have one more toast?”
Ken: “Absolutely”
The blue team clink their champagne glasses.
(cut back to the red team and their punishment)
Hannah: “When will this punishment end?”
Chelsea: “It ends when it’s over” (C) “After losing the challenge, we are in the middle of the punishment. Hannah’s not enjoying it. Well guess what. Nobody’s enjoying it. Now shut up, and get back to work”
Missy: “I think the blue team might be shocked when they come back”
Steph: “I know, because they don’t want to sort through trash either”
Meghan: “Girls, stop talking and get back to work”
The red team gets back to work.
Steph throws out a juice box.
Hannah throws out a used set of plastic gloves, and continues to throw up.
Steph: “Oh god!”
Meghan: “Steph, just ignore her and do the work!”
Steph: “Sorry, Megan”
(N) After a relaxing day for the blue team, and a scary day for the red team, both teams line up for dinner service.
GR: "Tonight in Hell's Kitchen, it's Charity Night. The red team will be cooking for representatives of the John Hopkins Children Centre The blue team will be cooking for representatives of the ACLU foundation”
All: "Yes, Chef!"
GR: "Right, get prepping!"
(skipping the prep)
GR: "Marino, open Hell's Kitchen for Charity Night!"
(service opening music)
(N) Tonight, Hell's Kitchen honors two charital organizations by serving them a four-course meal. Pan-seared scallops overseen by Chelsea in the red kitchen and Carl in the blue; lobster scampi by Steph and Xavier; a grilled duck breast dish by Ken and Hannah; and finally, Ishaan will oversee the ribeye dish going up against Missy.
GR: "Right, our first course can start. Chelsea and Carl, we need 13 portions of five scallops each. How long will that take?"
Carl: "Six minutes to the window?"
Chelsea: "I’m on it"
Carl: (walks into the blue kitchen) "Right, guys! I need 65 scallops in six minutes!"
Ken: "Six minutes heard!"
Ishaan (C): “65 scallops! That’s a lot of scallops”
Carl: “Make sure those scallops are perfect, because we need to feed the ACLU in about 6 minutes don’t let me down”
Ken: “Don’t worry, we got you” (C) “The pressure is on Carl, because he’s the leader on the scallops. If we don’t get these perfect, there’s no way that we can win”
Xavier: “Prepping sauce”
Ken: “Got the scallops to the pass”
GR: “Amazing, Ken”
Carl (C): ”Charity night is very important, I’ve got to make sure that these poritons of 13 with 5 on each plate get sent out in exactly 6 minutes”
(cut to red kitchen)
Chelsea: “Alright, 65 scallops in 6 minutes”
Missy: “Heard” (C) “As Chelsea calls 65 scallops, I was like, I don’t know if I can do this”
Chelsea: “Is the sauce prepped?”
Hannah: “Got that covered”
Missy: “Dropping scallops” (C) “Cooking 65 in exactly six minutes. This is going to be a challenge”
Chelsea: “Make sure those scallops are cooked beautifully”
Missy: “I’m watching them”
Chelsea: “Good”
Missy: “I’ve got my first 6 plates out”
GR: “Okay bring them to the pass”
Missy: “Walking scallops”
GR: “Ummm, Chelsea, the scallops are raw”
Chelsea: “Missy, those are raw scallops”
GR: “Get your act TOGETHER! And you need about 6 pans”
Missy: “Got that covered chef”
(cut to blue kitchen)
GR: “Alright, Carl, I only have 6 plates, and there’s 3 minutes left. Get them out quick”
Carl: “HEY KEN”
Ken: “Yes Carl, what is it?”
Carl: “There are only 6 plates, and we have 3 minutes left on this course”
Ken: “There’s no need to worry, because I have plated my next 4“
Xavier: “Bring them to the pass”
Ken: “Walking scallops”
GR: “Ken, those are beautifully done”
Ken: “Thank you chef”
Carl: “I only need 3 more plates covered, and then we’re done with this course”
Ken (C): “Carl is acting like the leader, and he’s giving out orders. Having the skills as a leader is probably one of the best acts”
Xavier: “Do you want help with plating?”
Ken: “I don’t need help, I plate very well”
Carl: “Ishaan, are you topping the sauces, because half of my plates don’t have sauce”
Ishaan: “Sorry I forgot”
GR: “Ishaan!”
Ishaan: “Yes chef”
GR: ”SAUCE THE PLATES, YOUR WASTING TIME
Ishaan: “Yes chef”
Ishaan sauces the next few scallop plates.
Ishaan: “I’ve fixed the plates”
Carl: “Okay, then bring it up”
Ishaan: “Walking scallops”
GR: “Ishaan, those look beautiful“
Carl: “Can we send the plates out?”
GR: “You’ll have to wait for the red team to finish”
(cut to red kitchen)
Chelsea: “Where’s my scallops?”
Missy: “There coming right now”
Hannah (C): “Missy f****d up the first number of scallops, and it’s causing a setback in the red kitchen. Young lady, sped up”
GR: “Where’s the scallops?”
Missy: “They’re coming. Steph is just saucing them up”
Chelsea: “I can’t wait any longer with the scallops. We only have one minute left.“
Steph (C): “Chelsea tells me that I have to sped up. And I really do, we’re running out of time, and the blue team probably has done all theirs”
Missy: “Walking scallops”
GR: “Congratulations, you just served your first course to the JHCC in less than 10 seconds, now it’s time to get to the next course”
(N) With both scallop dishes heading out to the dining room, the next course will be the shrimp scampi.
GR: "Right, Steph, Xavier, come here. The next course is lobster scampi. How long do you need?"
Steph: “Probably about 10 minutes”
Xavier: “I don’t agree with her chef”
GR: “What?”
Xavier: “I think it’s probably too much time, I’d rather get down to a 9”
GR: “Ok, fine. Steph you do yours in 10, Xavier can do 9”
Both: “Thank you chef”
Xavier: “Alright guys, I need 13 perfect plates of shrimp scampi at least 9 minutes, but we can’t serve until the red team serve theirs, since they have 10 minutes”
Carl: “What?” (C) “So both teams are doing different timings”
Xavier: “Ok, Ken, your going to be cooking the pasta”
Ken: “Got it”
Xavier: “Carl, I want you to make the sauce, which leaves Ishaan on the lobster”
Ishaan (C): “As Xavier puts me on the lobster, I’m nervous because in Sri Lanka, I never worked with lobster”
Ken puts pasta in the water before it starts boiling.
Xavier: “Umm, Ken, you can’t do that”
Ken: “I’m sorry“
Xavier (C): “After watching Ken put his pasta in the water before it boils. That was a rookie mistake”
GR: “Ken, you’re supposed to put the pasta in the water as it starts boiling, not before it boils”
Ken: “Okay chef”
(cut to red kitchen)
Steph: “Alright, my plan was to go 10 minutes with 13 portions. Also, Hannah will be working on the lobster”
Hannah: “Got it”
Steph: “Missy, your going to work on boiling the pasta”
Missy: “Got it”
Steoh: “This leaves Chelsea working on the sauce for the scampi”
Chelsea: “I’ll go to it”
Steph (C): “We are on course number 2, and last service my leadership has fallen down, so I should speak up tonight”
GR: “Steph, I better hear that leadership voice”
Steph: “I’m on it. We need 13 plates in 10 minutes“
Missy: “My water is boiling”
Chelsea: “Prepping sauce”
Steph: “Don’t forget to taste the sauce before you plate it, Chelsea”
Chelsea: “I got your back” (C) “I’ve made shrimp scampi once, and it failed, so I’m trying to bounce back from mistakes”
Hannah: “Dropping lobster”
Missy: “My spaghetti is done, waiting on sauce and lobster”
Chelsea tastes her sauce.
Chelsea: “Excellent”
Steph: “Where‘s the lobster!”
Hannah: “I’ve got my lobster done, just topping it”
Steph: “How many portions did you make?”
Missy: “We made about 5 shrimp scampi. We have a few more coming. I think we should wait for the next few to be done”
Steph: “NO, NOW!”
GR: “Bring them up, ladies”
Chelsea: “Walking scampi, I’m working on the next few”
(cut to blue kitchen)
Xavier: “OK, I’ve got one scampi so far, where are the next”
Ken: “They’re coming, we’re just touching them to make sure they are not raw”
Xavier: “But we only have 9 minutes for these”
Ken: “Oh bother, Ishaan?”
Ishaan: “Yes, Ken”
Ken: “Top the lobster on the pasta, and then bring them up to the pass”
Ishaan brings up the shrimp scampi to the pass.
Xavier: “They look beautiful”
Ishaan: “Thank you”
Later, a the rest of the plates head to the pass.
Chef Ramsay checks through every plate.
GR: “Oh dear! This is a massive setback. AY, BLUE TEAM! COME HERE!”
The blue team rush to the pass to spot their mistake.
GR: “As you can see, there are 13 complete plates. I look and I notice that 7 of them have raw lobster, and 5 of them don’t have enough sauce! Also, we have 3 minutes left. Do you want to lose?”
Blue Team: “No chef”
GR: “Well then, GET WORKING!”
The blue team take back the unfinished plates, and fix them.
Carl sauces the plates.
Ishaan touches the lobster.
Ishaan: “That feels like a better cook”
Xavier: “Where are my scampis?”
Ken: “We’re almost done”
Xavier: “There’s 42 seconds, and we need these fast”
Ken (C): “Xavier is barking out orders, and he announces that there are 42 seconds left. Be patient man”
Ishaan: “Walking scampi”
GR: “Beautiful“
Ishaan: “Thank you chef”
(N) As the time almost runs out on shrimp scampi in the blue kitchen, they head out to the JHCC charity just in time.
(cut to red kitchen)
Steph: “Ladies, I’ve got 9 plates up, and we need only 4 more.
Hannah: “We’re working on it”
Chelsea: “Walking”
GR: “Umm, Chelsea, where’s the sauce?”
Chelsea: “Oh dear, I forgot to season it”
GR: “It can’t just leave the dining room without sauce“
Steph: “Hey Hannah, where is the lobster?”
Hannah: “Ummmm”
GR: “WAKEY, WAKEY! Hannah, answer her question”
Steph (C): “As my next few plates come to the pass, there’s another mistake. Hannah forgot to place lobster“
Chef Ramsay takes the two plates and shows them to Hannah.
GR: “Look what I have been given to at the pass. 2 plates with pasta, with sauce, but no lobster? ARE YOU LAZY OR SOMETHING?”
Hannah: “No?”
GR: “Well, you should be, because we only have 2 minutes left, and 2 out of 10 scampis have no lobster“
Hannah: “I’m sorry” (C) “I thought I plated the lobster, but sadly I forgot”
Later, the rest of the scampi plates are nicely plated, and plates leave both kitchens.
GR: “Alright, onto our next course. Ken and Hannah, you guys are next, because the next dish is the grilled duck breast. How much time do you need”
Hannah: “I’ll take about 6 minutes”
Ken: “I’ll go same time as her”
GR: “Thankfully, you guys have agreed with each other. Now get right to work”
Ken: “Alright, we need 13 portions of everything”
Xavier: “Okay, and who is on what”
Ken: “So this time, I’m going to have Xavier working on the duck“
Xavier: “I can do that”
Ken: “Carl, your going to be working on the garnish for the duck”
Carl: “Yes”
Ken: “This leave’s Ishaan on sauce”
Ishaan: “I can do sauce”
Ken: “And I want this done in 6 minutes, so make sure that these are perfect”
Xavier (C): “We now move onto entrees, and this time, Ken is our leader on the duck breast. If we can pull this off, there is definitely a way we can win this service”
Ken: ”How long on the duck?”
Xavier: “About 4 minutes on the duck”
Ken: “How long on garnish?”
Carl: “Three minutes, heard?”
Xavier: “My first four duck are ready, Carl are you done with your garnishes?”
Carl: “Almost”
Ishaan: “My sauce is done”
Ken: “Umm, Ishaan, the garnish goes first, then the sauce can go on”
Later, four plates are done.
Xavier: “Walking”
Ken: “Beautifully cooked, Xavier”
Xavier: “Thank you chef”
(cut to red kitchen)
Hannah: “Alright, here is my plan. I’m going to have Steph on the duck”
Steph: “OK”
Hannah: “Missy, I am putting you on garnish, this means Chelsea, you will be doing the sauce”
Missy: “Actually, can I do the sauce?”
Hannah: “I’m sorry, but I already assigned the sauce to Chelsea, so this means your doing garnish”
Chelsea: “Actually, I can handle the garnish, and Missy can work on the sauce”
Hannah: “Okay fine” (C) “As Chelsea and Hannah fight with me on who’s doing what, I’m like I’M THE ONE WHO’S IN CHARGE OF THE DUCK ENTREE, NOT EITHER OF YOU”
Chelsea: “How long do you want”
Hannah: “About 6 minutes”
Chelsea: “Okay thank you”
Missy: “I’m about to prepare my sauce”
Steph: “My duck is grilling”
Hannah: “Make sure you bring these dishes to the pass on time”
Chelsea: “We got you”
Chelsea starts plating her garnish, but Chef Ramsay sternly asks her a question.
GR: “What are you doing?”
Chelsea: “Plating garnish”
GR: “Umm your supposed to plate the garnish after the duck has been plated”
Chelsea: “Sorry chef”
Steph: “I’ve got 7 duck dishes done”
Red team starts plating the duck.
Steph: “Walking”
Chef Ramsay then cuts through the duck.
GR: “Oh dear! AY, RED TEAM! COME HERE!”
Red Team walk to the pass.
GR: “ALL OF YOU, LOOK AT THE DUCK’S COLOUR, WHAT IS THAT?”
Missy: “Oh s**t, that’s pink”
GR: ”ABSOLUTELY, WHO COOKED THE DUCK?”
Hannah: “Steph, chef”
GR: “YOU (points to Steph) THOSE DUCKS ARE RAW! ITS CHARITY NIGHT, AND NOT A SINGLE DUCK IS COOKED PERFECTLY, NOW I WANT YOU TO FIRE UP A NEW BATCH, QUICKLY, got it?”
Steph: “Yes chef” (N) ”We can’t let this happen. I stalled the red team, and I only have three minutes left before things get sent out”
(cut to blue kitchen)
Xavier: “I’m almost done with my duck breasts”
Carl: “Garnish plated”
GR: “Umm, your supposed to wait until the duck gets plated”
Carl: “I’m sorry chef Ramsay”
Carl dumps out the garnish that he previously used.
GR: “Umm, hey, what are you doing?”
Ishaan: “Oh no!” (C) “Carl just threw out his previously used garnish. I’m like, we can still use that”
Carl: “It’s okay, I’ll get more going”
GR: “Then DO IT!”
Carl plates his new garnish after Xavier plated his duck.
Xavier: “Walking duck”
The pass is filled with 13 plates.
Chef Ramsay cuts into a duck breast.
GR: “Oh, f**k me. BLUE TEAM, COME HERE”
Xavier (C): “Oh no! What is going on?”
GR: “The first three duck breasts have been perfect, but this one is OVERCOOKED! Also, there’s not just that! THE SAUCE IS BLAND, AND THE GARNISH IS OVERSEASONED! I don’t know what to say. GET OUT! PATHETIC!”
The blue team walks out of the dining room.
(cut to red kitchen)
GR: “Where are the last plates?“
Hannah: “They’re coming! Just give Steph some time”
GR: “STEPH!”
Steph: “Yes chef”
GR: “You think I’m sitting here, and waiting for your duck breasts? Get them to the counter!”
Steph: “They haven’t had sauce or garnish yet”
GR: “WELL THEN, HURRY UP!”
Missy: “Oh no, I can’t serve that”
Missy dumps her sauce in the garbage.
GR: “OH NO! MISSY, WHY ARE YOU DUMPING THE SAUCE???”
Missy: “It doesn’t look to good”
GR: “You know what else is not good! YOUR ORDERS ARE STALLED! GET OUT!”
Chelsea: “F**K!”
GR: “YOU KNOW THAT IM TIRED OF WAITING, AND YOUR KITCHEN HAS BEEN STALLED DO TO A SAUCE BEING DUMPED, CHEF AND I WILL FINISH THE REST OF THE ORDERS!”
(cut to post-mortem)
GR: “Tonight, was a complete s**tshow. Tonight was Charity Night. Both teams cooked for charities. And didn’t make it through all their courses. Blue team, you started off strong, but your biggest downfall was the 3rd course, the duck breast which was why you were kicked out mid-service. One of your duck breasts were overcooked, garnish overseasoned, and the sauce was just bland! Red Team, you had more problems than the blue team. You served raw scallops at the start, but your biggest issue that got you kicked out was that all of the duck breasts you sent to the counter were raw, and when you got to the refire, your kitchen was stalled even more. The winning team tonight, there’s no such thing. Both teams come up with one persons name.“
(cut to elimination)
GR: “Have we reached a consensus?”
Both Teams: “Yes Chef”
GR: “Hannah, red team’s nominee and why?”
Hannah: “My team’s nominee is Missy, because she f****d up the scallops, and dumped out our team’s sauce which was for the duck”
GR: “Ken, blue team’s nominee and why?”
Ken: “Our nominee is Ishaan, because we have proven that he is one of our weakest chefs. He served raw lobster for seven of our lobster scampis”
GR: “So Missy, and Ishaan are the nominees, well I’m not done yet, because there’s one more person I wanna hear from. Steph, get your a*s up here”
Steph, Missy and Ishaan step to the front.
GR: “Steph, why should you stay in Hell’s Kitchen?”
Steph: “I came here to work hard, because I am a great leader. I‘m not ready to go yet, and my chances of winning are never below 50%. I wanna stay here, despite serving raw duck”
GR: “Missy, why should you stay in Hell’s Kitchen?”
Missy: “I’m cool, I’m calm, I’m collected, and I’m sorry for dumping your sauce out, and I feel like I should have watched over it. I also feel like I’m not ready to leave yet”
GR: “Ishaan, why should you stay in Hell’s Kitchen?”
Ishaan: “I should stay in Hell’s Kitchen because I still have a lot of me to show what it takes to be the best chef. I know that I can bounce back every time I make mistakes”
GR: “Well, you weren’t showing it”
Ishaan: “I’m sorry, chef”
GR: “The person leaving Hell’s Kitchen is…”
…
(silence)
…GR: “Ishaan”
Ishaan steps forward.
GR: “Back in line, Missy, take your jacket off you are done”
Missy walks up to Chef Ramsay and gives him her jacket.
GR: “Tonight got the best of you, and you should feel ashamed of what you served me”
Missy leaves.
Missy (E): “Tonight was the night that I really let my team down. I should’ve not wasted the duck’s sauce for my team’s duck dish during the Charity Night dinner service which was today. I’m still looking forward to continue cooking, and if I improve I hope to compete in an all star season”
GR: “Now get out of here”
Xavier (C): “Tonight was definitely the most important night, and I feel like my team should’ve done better if I ran all courses. Well, that’s not how it works”
Hannah (C): “I can’t believe it, there are 7 contestants left, and I am so close to winning a black jacket. This has to be one of the biggest things I have accomplished”
Steph (C): “This might be one deadly mistake that cost my team a dinner service win, just because I screwed up my entire team’s portion of duck, but that doesn’t mean that my journey is over. There’s still a lot of work to do, and I’m going to take my time”
…”Missy cost her team the dinner service win, all because she wasted a sauce for her team. If she thinks somethings wrong, she has to tell me before she does it”

• 18th: Christie
• 17th: Shamar
• 16th: CC (ejected)
• 15th: Tom
• 14th: Eric
• 13th: Sierra (walked)
• 12th: Ali
• 11th: Jerry
• 10th: Taylor (Cook For your Life)
• 9th: Kara (ejected)
• 8th: Missy