Would a canvas drop cloth work well as a low tunnel cover instead of a plastic sheet?
If anyone has experiences to share, I’d love to hear it before I invest in some canvas.

Part 52
Glenda Wilmington, Kinda Digging This Whole Cop Gig
"If you hear anything else, give me a call," Glenda said, handing the woman a business card with her cellphone number on it. The woman accepted it and then squinted skeptically at it.
"Cooperation with an investigation is the sort of thing that parole boards like to hear about," Glenda said in response to the woman's look. That seemed to do the trick. The woman slipped the card into her ample cleavage and met Glenda's eyes.
"I will call. I have no loyalty to that man." Her sing-song Norwegian accent, as well as her tall, thick frame and bright, yellow-blonde hair contrasted with the environment; a run-down housing project in the heart of Compton. But housing for convicted felons on parole was limited, and she'd had few choices in this area. Glenda wondered idly why the woman hadn't elected to return to Norway, where they tended to be a bit more sympathetic to ex-cons. The woman, Duke's one-time head channeler, didn't seem prepared to answer any more questions, however.
Glenda nodded and stepped back. The woman took a step outside, careful to keep the foot with the ankle monitor inside the door and took a look around before withdrawing back into the house. Glenda turned and walked down the steps off the creaky wooden porch and back to the rental car, where Jack dozed lightly in the passenger seat, his cowboy hat pulled low over his eyes. She climbed behind the wheel, trying not to wake him, and started the engine.
He woke anyways. Jack had always been a very light sleeper. He turned his head slightly towards her, not adjusting the hat at all.
"Anything?" he asked. Glenda shook her head. "Nobody's heard from him. I think it's safe to say he's not looking to connect with any of his old associates, at this point."
"Ayup," Jack agreed. Glenda pulled away, heading north, towards the 105 that would take them back to the airport. They were done here. As she drove, she couldn't help but note the scowling, suspicious faces that turned to watch them. She took in the low, chain-link fences that separated yards, the equally low concrete block walls that surrounded paved driveways. The odd mix of Spanish colonial and more traditional American architecture was like a sign. It told her that she could find a bag of the white lady, a bag of weed, or a bag of something more exotic here. She could find a gang, beefing with another gang, and maybe convince one side to pay her to make someone on the other side vanish.
It was almost nostalgic.
They passed a tan-painted Spanish colonial house with a faux wrought-iron fence, and she knew right away that a dealer lived there. The child's play set in the front had never been touched by anything more careless than the wind and rain. The SUV in the driveway might have belonged to a small family, except for the large speakers she could see through the rear window. The tint on the windows of both car and home added to the effect. The kicker, though, was the white-haired, middle-aged man stepping out the front door to squint suspiciously around before heading back up the street in the direction of the channeler's home, where Glenda had spotted him walking this way just a few minutes ago.
Without bothering to ask anyone, she could say with confidence that whoever lived there sold mainly cocaine, but he also had cheap weed for those who couldn't afford the prices at the dispensary. He'd have rocks too, but he probably wouldn't sell them to you if you knew where he lived. He'd sell them on the weekends, manning a street corner, alongside a thug from whatever gang he ran with or paid tribute to.
Everyone knew they were cops, of course. Years of living in rural Canada had faded Glenda's tan and affected her fashion choices. Once, she'd have moved through an area like this in gym shorts, sneakers and a faded old t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. Showing off enough muscle to make the usual idiots think twice about harassing her, but not showing off so much skin than people might take her for a street worker with a schtick. Today, she drove in blue jeans, hiking boots and a flannel shirt. Next to her, Jack wore the same, complimented with a denim jacket. Only a couple of cops would dress like that in this neighborhood.
Though that wasn't strictly true -Jack's jurisdiction ended many hundreds of miles north of here- it might as well be. They were private investigators, working on behalf of the federal government, who was footing the bill for Dylan's recapture. Whether or not they were technically considered law enforcement officers depended entirely upon their needs and some paperwork. So far, they hadn't needed any LEO powers.
As she turned onto the 105 and marginally sped up in the dense traffic of the highway, Jack's phone rang. He begrudgingly lifted the brim of his hat up, squinting in the bright daylight at his screen. Apparently satisfied with what he saw there, he hit the accept button and pressed the phone to his ear.
"S'Jack," he said, then he listened for a bit.
"Ayup," he said. He glanced out the window, then covered the tiny mic at the bottom of the phone. "Get off the highway," he said to Glenda. She nodded and put on her turn signal, eyes searching for a chance to get over. A minivan in the next lane, slightly ahead of them, promptly slowed down to pace them.
"Awwright," he drawled into the phone. "We'll check it out. 'Preciate the heads up. Take care, now."
He pulled the phone away from his ear and tapped the screen again before slipping it back into his pocket jacket.
"That was intel. Said that a bank account belonging to one Dylan Boucher just got emptied by a wire transfer to one Derek Garcia. Just a hair over ten grand. Transfer woulda taken place about a week ago, intel didn't pick up on it until it cleared."
"Garcia, that's the one that calls himself the 'Planewalker', right?"
"Ayup," Jack said. Glenda finally got tired of trying to get behind the minivan and sped up to cut him off, instead. Jack could see that it was being driven by a heavily tattooed white kid with dredlocks. He honked and flipped them off, but she ignored him. She'd had her turn signal on, and tried to get behind him, but he had slowed down and sped up to block her.
Out of pure spite, she tapped the brakes a few times.
Jack bounced forward against his seatbelt as she did and gave her a dirty look. She smiled sweetly at him. "What? That's how you drive around here. You used to live in Atlanta, you've got to know this by now."
"We didn't generally make an effort to piss people off in Atlanta," he grumbled. Glenda turned onto the ramp to get off on Crenshaw, heading south.
Glenda scoffed. "Now you're just lying. I've been to Atlanta. Worst drivers in the bottom half of the country by far."
"You sure about that?" Jack said, eyeing the rear-view mirror. Glenda glanced up to see the minivan still behind them, the driver jabbing his finger at them and ranting.
"Huh," she said. "Maybe this fucker's about to prove me wrong."
"Well, we need to get gas anyways, if we're driving all the way down to San Clemente," Jack said. "Might as well pull over at the first station we see and get it over with."
Glenda chuckled, mostly at what the angry man behind her was about to experience and kept her eyes peeled for a gas station.
The minivan never wavered, staying behind her through multiple lane changes, all the way down to Artesia Boulevard, where she finally found a Shell station. She pulled in and pulled up to a pump.
"You wanna have a white knight moment, or is today an 'equality of the sexes' day?" Glenda asked as the minivan pulled in behind them and stopped, blocking the entrance.
"Sheeeit," Jack drawled. "I mean, I guess I'll handle him if ya want..." He unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his door as the irate young metalhead stomped towards them. He made sure to be outside the car by the time the kid got within angry dick-measuring distance.
"What the fuck is your bitch's problem, asshole?!" the young man demanded. Jack didn't answer, he simply strode forward, within striking distance. Normally, Jack liked to deliver a good, bone-chilling threat, followed up by taking a more reasonable tone as he continued to stare through whomever was causing problems and imagine himself blowing their head off as he de-escalated the situation. It was a tactic that had served him well, many times. But today, Jack was tired.
He'd been hunting Dylan down for weeks now, and only just got their first promising lead as this little shit had gone out of his way to stop them from changing lanes for no discernible reason. So Jack simply slugged the kid right in the nose. He caught him off guard and sent the kid sprawling onto his ass. Before he could gather himself back up, Jack kicked him in the chest with the sole of his boot and drew his large revolver. He crouched down, boot still pinning the kid to the ground, and held the gun casually where the kid could see it.
"You know what a turn signal means?" he asked calmly. The kid's eyes went wide as he spotted the gun.
"Y-y-yeah," he stammered.
"Good. Ya had a little lapse of judgement there. Ya might wanna see to that." Jack stood, holstering his gun and walked back over to open the gas cover and insert the company credit card into the pump. He picked the mid-grade and inserted the fuel handle, locking the valve open before he turned back.
The kid was still sitting there, wiping blood from his mouth where his nose was bleeding. "They oughta have napkins inside," Jack told him mildly. "They're usually by the hot dogs."
Jack filled the tank while the kid picked himself up and went inside. A cop arrived a few minutes later, stopping in the entrance that the kid was blocking and turning his lights on. The cop stepped out and walked around the minivan and into the gas station.
Jack waited for the tank to fill, then replaced the nozzle and climbed back in the car.
"You wanna stick around?" Glenda asked. "Shoot the shit with the locals, make sure the kid gets the short end?"
"Naw," Jack said. "Read about the LA cops. Not exactly whom I'd like to consider comrades-in-arms, if you catch my meaning."
Glenda shrugged and they pulled out right as the kid and the cop both emerged back into the parking lot. Glenda thought the cop look pissed and the kid looked dejected.
They got on the 405 and drove it down to California 73, then took that south to Interstate 5, which brought them to San Clemente an hour later. Glenda got off the highway and turned into a neighborhood full of upscale, tightly-packed Spanish colonial homes. Unlike Compton, most of the yards weren't fenced, and those that were tended towards white picket fences. The lawns were universally well-cared for and nobody looked twice at them as they drove through the neighborhood and up to the address highlighted on the GPS.
It was a small, modest-looking home with a distinctly 70's asthetic. It didn't match most of the tile-roofed, square walled homes around it, but it hardly stood out, either. A BMW sat in the driveway, framed by a pair of shaped topiary trees. It looked like something off the cover of some homemaking magazine, Glenda thought.
They parked on the street and climbed out.
"The air is crackling with magic," Glenda said. "He's in there, doing something right now."
Jack walked up and pounded on the door. Glenda held up a hand, fingers splayed. Jack would understand what she meant. The magic was currently at a five, and she'd let him know if it diminished, and by approximately how much.
She kept her hand still for a while as nobody answered the door. Five minutes passed before Jack turned to her.
"Okay, this is your gig, now," he said. He walked back to the car, opening the trunk to reveal the bound, squirming and sweating Caliope there. He yanked her gag down and fed her from a water bottle.
"Been a long drive, ain't it?" he asked, conversationally. Caliope sucked greedily at the bottle, managing to drink every drop that didn't get splashed into the trunk.
"Fuck you," she muttered weakly. Jack smiled. "Looks to me like you're the one what's fucked, darlin'. Guess you shouldn'ta gone and fucked with your sister's collar like that. I mean, if you'd played by the rules, we'd have overlooked the whole issue of you not actually being any help whatsoever, and taken your good faith efforts as enough to fill your end. But ya had to go behind our backs, causing trouble. So now you're stuck in a trunk until we get back to the airport."
"Fuck you," she gasped again.
"'Scuse me," Jack said, reaching past her for an armored vest. He pulled it out and tugged it over his head, getting the flaps velcroed in place and adjusting it. When he was done, he pulled Caliope's gag back up.
"Awright, girl, you jes sit tight while we check this out. Won't be but a little bit, then we'll be heading to the airport."
She tried to say something, but the gag turned it into a muffled wail. Jack smiled as he closed the trunk and returned to the front door. Glenda stood there, watching him, fully kitted up with her armor and a carbine in her hands.
"Ready," Jack said. Glenda turned and, without preamble, kicked the door open with a thunderous blow. She rushed inside, rifle up and leading the way, Jack hot on her heels. Neither made it very far, though.
The living room had been converted into a ritual chamber. The walls were festooned with runes and the twisting lines that connected them. The floor had a large, ornate circle in the middle, runes etched into it and twisting, spiral designs encasing the whole thing. But that wasn't what gave them pause.
In the middle of the circle hovered a shimmering mirage, through which Glenda could see a city. It looked like something out of a sci-fi film, all rounded corners and smooth, off-white concrete. The windows in the buildings were mirrored, or else none of them had lights on inside, because they all reflected a sunrise coming from behind the view.
"What the hell's that?" Jack asked. Glenda carefully felt the magic around the apparition. "I think it's a portal."
"Okay, so where does it go, do ya think?"
"I haven't got a clue. I don't recognize that city."
"Kinda looks like Mos Eisley, a hundred years after they found oil or something," Glenda said.
"Think that's what Dylan was paying for? A trip to wherever that is?"
"Looks like," Glenda mused. "We're gonna need to call this in."
"Ayup. Let's clear the house, first."
They did just that. They found a den set up in one of the bedrooms, an obviously-lived-in kitchen and a master bedroom used for its intended purposes. In the last bedroom, they found an arsenal and storage space. It was full of survival and camping gear, weapons and ammo.
"Missing rifle," Jack said, peering at a gun rack.
"Yup," Glenda agreed. She opened an ammo tin. It was only half full.
"Somebody geared up here," she said.
Jack sighed. "Let's call it in, then. We'll hand over our little helper when the backup gets here."
----
It took two hours to get a team there, mostly because the LA regional office was all the way up in Burbank. But they eventually arrived. Two security officers took Caliope off their hands, to bring her back to prison. They brought another collar, to replace the modified wet blanket spell Glenda had been holding since the riot. It hadn't seemed like a lot of effort to hold the spell in place, but as soon as she finally let it go, she felt a wave of relief.
"Julie sent some extras along," the leader of the relief force told Glenda once Caliope had been seen to. She'd already spotted the two middle-eastern men in different uniforms than the rest. She thought she recognized the older one.
"We'll take all the help we can get. Any of you boys willing to go jaunting across reality with us?" The man chuckled. "No, thanks. Besides, we've got orders to secure this building and wait for the feds. Gonna see if there's anything illegal here, so we can nab this Garcia fellow as soon as he gets back."
Glenda nodded, then looked at the two middle-eastern men. She jerked her head in a 'come here' gesture and they stepped forward.
"Glenda, right?" the older one asked, holding out a hand.
"Yup," she said as she took it. He shook firmly, then let go. "I am Aqib, and this is my assistant, Mateen. We've been running around, helping out where we can for months now. It seems it is your turn to accept our assistance."
"Either of you got any magic?" Glenda asked. Mateen hefted his rifle and then tapped his body armor. "All of our gear is enchanted. We have rings, as well," he held up a hand bedecked with silver bands. "They will help us heal from injuries and allow us to see in the dark and other such useful things."
"Good, good," she said, then stopped. Aqib. That name rang a bell. She squinted at the middle-aged man.
"You were at the Wyrm facility when we took it," she said. "About six years ago." He nodded.
"I was with your friend when she fell. She saved my life," he said. Glenda nodded. "I remember that. I'm glad you're still here, then. Glad you're with us. I, uh..." She stopped speaking before she got choked up and cleared her throat.
"Are you two ready?" she asked.
"We have our gear," Aqib said, nodding at a pair of large backpacks leaning against one of the DCM branded trucks. "Camping gear, food and water for three days. Spare ammo, tools. We were told you had much more supplies yourself."
"Yup. I've got fresh food, enough for a couple of weeks for the four of us. Plus a couple months worth of dehydrated foods, MRE's and other food that'll keep for a while. I've got water and other shit to drink, camping gear, etcetera, etcetera. As long as you guys brought your own tents, we're golden."
"That is good," Aqib said.
"Do you have battery packs?" Mateen asked.
"Battery packs?" Glenda responded.
"Yes, for phones and other electronics. To keep them charged. I have a solar recharger, but it takes a long time, and it isn't always convenient to set it up."
Glenda shook her head. "Nope. Never been much for carrying a bunch of electronics around. Besides, I doubt our phones will work, where we're going."
Aqib grinned at his companion. "No video games until we're done, Mateen," he said. Mateen rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."
"Mateen is still a child at heart, even though he has children of his own," Aqib explained as he stepped forward to get a good look at the portal, still hovering in the middle of the room.
"As long as he can fight," Glenda said. Jack approached, finished with the field paperwork. He had a backpack slung over one shoulder, and a rifle slung over the other. He still wore his armor.
"He fights like a cornered dog," Aqib said mildly. At Glenda's quirked eyebrow, he clarified. "He is very fierce."
"Good," Glenda said. She turned to Jack and gave him a quick kiss. "We ready?"
"Ayup," Jack confirmed. "All the paperwork's done, we're good to go."
Glenda pushed past Mateen and Aqib as they moved to pick up their packs. "I'll take them," she said. Mateen frowned, but Aqib simply nodded and stood back. She grabbed both packs and sent them to hammerspace, accepting Jack's pack and giving it the same treatment. Mateen shook his head slowly, but Aqib seemed unimpressed.
"Okay, let's boogie," Glenda said and strode through the portal before she could work up any doubts.
----
"None of 'em rotted," Jack said. "They're all mummified. All the plants are dead, but none of them are rotted, either." He stood in what seemed like a small park, a few trees growing in clusters at the four corners, and an open field of dead grass in the middle. Bodies lay strewn about, adults and children alike. Many lay draped over the benches, or slumped in a pile in front of them. One cluster of small bodies had a large, rubber-ish ball laying next to them, as if they'd died in the middle of some sort of game.
Glenda eyed the surroundings. They hadn't encountered a single living being in the hours they'd been moving through this city. "What do you think happened here?" she asked.
"I'll be honest, I ain't got a fucking clue, darlin'," Jack said. They stood in silence for a bit, reflecting on what they'd seen and wondering about it. An entire city, dead. No signs of decay, except for rusted metal. Glenda had seen large piles of rust that she took to be cars, based on the plastic and ceramic components still in them, along with the bodies. An entire city, dead. And yet the bodies remained. They'd held up better than the metal, for sure.
Mateen came around a corner at a jog and made a beeline for them. "Aqib has found something, a fresh body. Recently killed."
"Lead the way," Glenda told him. They followed him back around the corner, two blocks down and then around another corner, where they found Aqib standing over a bloody, headless corpse, resting against a building under a sign written in a language Glenda didn't recognize.
"Sheeit," Jack said as they drew up. "That's certainly out of place. Wonder where his head got to."
"Over here," Mateen said. He gestured to what looked like a bus stop with a trash can next to it. There, fetched up against the trash can was a severed head. A sparse trail of blood led from the body to it. Glenda walked over and crouched down, peering at the head.
"I think this is Garcia," she said. She pulled the photo she had of the man from hammerspace, checking it against the head.
"I think you're right," Jack said, peering over her shoulder. "And the chopped off head. That sounds like something Dylan would do."
"I think we're on the right track then," Glenda said. "But how do we know what direction he went?"
She straightened up as they all looked around. Nothing stood out to them.
A moment later, a terrifying roar sounded from off in the distance. They all turned towards it, weapons rising.
"I do not like that, but I think we know what direction to check now," Aqib said.
"'Fraid I gotta agree with ya," Jack said.

• gloves (seems obvious but people don’t buy them). I use them when I touch nearly anything at home.
  
• disposable clear plastic seat covers (car seat, office chairs, kitchen chair)
  
• 128 oz of premo anti-mite (I fumigate my whole home (daily) with a mask on and leave our windows open. I pay close attention to knobs, light switches & handles)
  
• 2x robo vacuums (I vacuum each floor 3 x a day with robo vacs)
  
• anti-mite zippered mattress & pillow cover
  

Helpful stuff! I keep curing myself & getting reinfected. Idk wtf I’m doing wrong.
I highly recommend following doctors orders. Ivermectin & permethrin: 7 - 10 days apart on the same day is what mine prescribed.
Lastly! Your skin health matters. If your skin looks terrible and dry, put lotion on it. Lubriderm extra dry and Elta MD extra-dry both are great. Without healthy skin, it’s harder to kill them.

👉 Full gallery with photos of individual games 👈
Hi, this is my first post here on /GameSale, and I'm selling some games in my personal collection. All games are authentic and have been cleaned and tested to be fully working unless otherwise noted. All NES and N64 games are NTSC-U, except those N64 games in the Japanese list.
Games are graded on a scale of Excellent, Very Good, Good, Fair, Poor. Games with instructions have two grades separated by a slash; the first is the cartridge, and the second is the instruction booklet. Complete games have the box as the third grade. Conditions of parts not described are assumed to be Excellent.
Prices include shipping with tracking number within the US. I will also ship to Canada for an additional charge. Bulk discounts are available if you're interested in multiple items. Payments must be made via PayPal.

NES

Photos

• Games
• Instructions

NES complete

• Monopoly - $30 - VG-EX / VG / VG. Minor residue on cartridge front. Wear on manual. Minor scuffs on box, wear on corners. Includes property poster, Nintendo Power offer, and seizure warning sheet.

NES with instructions

• Anticipation - $15 - EX / G-VG. Wear on manual.
• Bubble Bobble - $40 - VG / VG-EX. Name on back of cartridge. Light wear on manual.
• Championship Bowling - $15 - VG-EX / G. Light wear on label. Significant folds on manual, especially page 7.
• Dr. Mario - $22 - EX / VG-EX. Minor wear on manual cover.
• Golf - $22 - EX / VG. Wear on manual cover.
• Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom - $25 - G-VG / VG-EX. Name written on label. Minor wear on manual cover.
• Marble Madness - $15 - EX / VG. Wear on manual cover.
• Pipe Dream - $20 - VG-EX / EX. Minor wear on label.
• R.C. Pro-Am - $15 - EX / VG-EX. Minor wear on manual cover.
• Snake, Rattle 'n' Roll - $20 - VG-EX / VG. Minor wear on cartridge front. Wear on manual cover and back.
• StarTropics - $25 - VG-EX / EX. Minor wear on back of cartridge. Letter attached to back of manual. Saves.
• Super Mario Bros. 2 - $40 - EX / VG. Minor wear on manual, minor tear on back and page 28.
• Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - $22 - VG / G-VG . Wear on cartridge. Significant wear on manual covers. Game flaky to start.
• Tetris - $20 - VG / VG-EX. Name on back of cartridge. Minor wear on manual.
• Top Gun - $15 - EX / VG. Minor wear on manual, minor tear on cover.
• Zelda II: The Adventure of Link - $35 - P-F / G. Major wear on cartridge, plastic chipped on bottom, top of label damaged. Wear on manual, fold on cover and first few pages. Saves.

NES cartridge only

• Castlevania II: Simon's Quest - $22 - VG-EX. Light wear on cartridge.
• Contra - $45 - EX
• Double Dragon III - $20 - EX
• Double Dribble - $10 - VG-EX. Small fold on label.
• Kung Fu - $15 - VG. Minor wear on cartridge, one tab missing.
• Life Force - $22 - EX
• M.C. Kids - $20 - VG. Scratches on front and back of cartridge, abrasion on back of cartridge.
• Mach Rider - $15 - EX
• Magmax - $10 - EX
• Mike Tyson's Punch-Out!! - $50 - EX
• Nobunaga's Ambition - $20 - VG-EX. Minor scuffs on label. Saves.
• Rad Racer - $20 - VG-EX / VG. Minor wear on label. Light crinkles on manual cover.
• Skate or Die - $10 - VG. Letters scratched into front label, scuffs on back label.
• Super Mario Bros. - $15 - VG-EX. Sticker residue on back of cartridge.
• Tennis - $15 - VG-EX. Minor scuffs on label.

Nintendo 64

Photos

• Game fronts
• Game backs
• Instructions

Nintendo 64 with instructions

• Banjo-Tooie - $55 - VG-EX / G-VG. Mild scuffs on cartridge. Small tear and folds on manual front/back.
• Diddy Kong Racing - $40 - G-VG / EX. Wear on label with small tear on front, and some discoloration on cartridge.
• The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time [Gray, Player's Choice] - G-VG / VG-EX. Wear on label with name written on it. Small tear and fold on manual cover. Includes Nintendo Power offer. (manual sold; see cartridge-only)
• Mario Party - $60 - G-VG / G. Significant discoloration on right side of label. Manual front and back crinkly.
• Mischief Makers - $60 - EX / G-VG. Minor wear on manual cover and back, small tear on manual cover.
• Pokémon Snap - $30 - G-VG / EX. Sticker residue on label, and sticker on back of cartridge.
• Star Fox 64 - $35 - G-VG / VG. Wear on label and cartridge. Wear on manual.
• Vigilante 8 - $40 - VG-EX / VG-EX. Light wear on cartridge, cartridge back taken from donor cartridge. Minor fold on manual. Includes registration postcard.

Nintendo 64 cartridge only

• 007 GoldenEye - $35 - EX
• Cruis'n USA - $20 - VG-EX. Price sticker on back.
• The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time [Gray, Player's Choice] - $45 - G-VG. Wear on label with name written on it.
• Mario Golf - $40 - VG. Deep scratches in label.
• Perfect Dark - $25 - VG-EX. Minor scuffs on label.
• Super Smash Bros. - $50 - G. Heavy wear on both labels. New battery.

Japanese Nintendo 64 cartridge only

These games are NTSC-J and cannot be played in a stock North American console without removing the cartridge back.

• Animal Forest - $40 - EX. Name field not written in.
• Mario Story - $20 - VG-EX. Small dents on back of cartridge.
• Pokémon Stadium [Original game not released internationally] - $15 - VG. Wear on cartridge.

Game Boy & Game Boy Color

Photo

• Games and instructions

Game Boy with instructions

• Super Mario Land - $25 - VG / G. Cartridge yellowed. Manual crinkly from water damage but visually excellent.
• Tetris DX - $30 - EX / VG-EX. Manual has small corner fold on cover. Saves.

Game Boy cartridge only

• QIX - $10 - EX

Game Boy Color cartridge only

• The Legend of Zelda: Link's Awakening DX - $50 - G-VG. Label torn in several places. Saves.
• The Legend of Zelda: Oracle of Ages - $40 - F-G. No label. Saves.
• Pokémon Puzzle Challenge - $30 - VG-EX. Label fading at top. Saves.

Guys, do you cover your books with plastic cover para hindi masira? Hehe

Hello!
Graded cards
Pikachu 379/S-P similar to precious collector Pikachu & crown zenith Pikachu
Chatime promo set
Sylveon Jahat/Dark 25th limited promo
2 Pikachu & 1 Eevee Jakarta Festival promo
Mew 25th anniversary gold
Price in imgur description
Most cards are in NM/M condition
I have multiple copies for almost everything in the links
Let me know if you want close up picture
Feel free to send me an offer
You can request any Indonesian pokemon cards, booster boxes and Pokemon related stuff
Approximate shipping cost from Indonesia:
US$13 to USA (slow shipping +-2 weeks) bubble mailer, insured and tracked
Pwe $2 or free. No tracking & no insurance. 1 month+ to USA (0 lost PWE package)
Booster box shipping cost to USA , $23 for 2 boxes, $35 for 3 boxes, $48 for 6 boxes, $75 for 10 boxes+
Shipping cost for Europe, Canada, etc should cost around USA shipping cost
I'll cover G & S fees
Cards will be shipped with care using bubble mailer, protected with, duplex cardboard, bubble wrap, plastic bag, sleeve & toploader (for expensive cards)
Thanks for Checking my post!

I live in S.F . Ca. and I got a Stephania k. as a present about a month ago and it already sprouted a leaf and other tiny ones are beginning to sprout. I had it covered under a plastic bag to increase humidity soI just put it under a glass dome to display it better. Would you guys advice to keep it under it permanently as it grows or now that the leaves are sprouting let it do its thing?

Title says it all. Is he gonna have a wet spot for the rest of his black templar career?

/worldnews
https://indiacsr.in/extended-producer-responsibility-epr-in-india-2-32-million-tons-of-plastic-packaging-covered/

This is the best tl;dr I could make, original reduced by 68%. (I'm a bot)

1715 plastic waste processors are also registered on the EPR portal with cumulative plastic waste processing capacity of 17 million tonnes per annum.
The Guidelines stipulate mandatory targets on EPR, recycling of plastic packaging waste, reuse of rigid plastic packaging and use of recycled plastic content.
The implementation of ban on identified single use plastic items coupled with extended producer responsibility on plastic packaging will reduce pollution caused by littered and unmanaged plastic waste.
Presently, a total of 6186 of Producers, Importers and Brand Owners have been registered on the Centralized Online Extended Producer Responsibility Portal on Plastic Packaging.
The registered PIBOs cumulatively have around 2.32 Million Tons of plastic packaging covered under Extended Producer Responsibility for the year 2022-23, which also includes plastic packaging used for packing food.
Further, 1715 plastic waste processors are also registered on the EPR portal with cumulative plastic waste processing capacity of 17 million tonnes per annum.

Summary Source FAQ Feedback Top keywords: plastic^#1 packaging^#2 waste^#3 single^#4 producer^#5
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Carpets add beauty and comfort to a home, but over time, they accumulate dirt, stains, and dust mites, which can pose health hazards to the occupants of the house. That’s where professional carpet cleaning comes in.
An appointment at carpet cleaning in NY is a great way to keep your carpets looking their best and your home healthy. However, to get the most out of your professional carpet cleaning, you need to prepare adequately.
In this article, we will go over some tips on preparing for a professional carpet cleaning appointment.

1. Clear the Area

The first thing you need to do is clear the area of any clutter or furniture. Professional carpet cleaners will need clear access to the carpeted areas, and any mess or furniture can get in the way.
Move all the small furniture such as chairs, tables, and floor lamps, but if you need help with heavy furniture such as a sofa or bookshelf, ask the cleaners if they can help you move them or if they have any restrictions on moving them.

1. Vacuum the Carpet

Before the professionals arrive, vacuum the carpets thoroughly. This will help to remove any loose dirt, dust, or debris from the carpet. Professional carpet cleaners usually have powerful vacuums, but removing as much dirt as possible beforehand will make their job easier and give you better results.

1. Identify Problem Areas

Take a walk around the carpeted areas of your home and identify any problem areas. These might include high-traffic areas, areas with pet stains, or areas with heavy soiling. Let professional cleaners know about these areas so that they can pay extra attention to them during the cleaning process.
If you have any particular stains that you have tried to remove, let them know so they can use specialized cleaning products to treat those stains.

1. Protect Your Valuables

Professional carpet cleaners use water and cleaning solutions to clean carpets, which can be harmful to electronics or other valuable items that are close to the carpet. Therefore, it’s a good idea to move electronics or other valuable items away from the carpeted areas or cover them with a plastic sheet.
Be sure to move any delicate or fragile items that the cleaning process could damage, as well.
In conclusion, professional carpet cleaning in NY is an effective way to keep your carpets looking and smelling their best. By following these tactics on how to prepare for a professional carpet cleaning appointment, you can help the professionals do their job efficiently, and you’ll be pleased with the results.
And if you want professional carpet cleaning in NY, then reach out to us. We will take care of your dirty carpet.

These things are garbage pieces of plastic. 14 months old, the previous repair was covered but this one they say is out of warranty.
Australian Law says electronics must last for a reasonable amount of time. But scuff give you 6 months. And 90 days on the repair. Hundreds of dollars for something they expect to only last 6 months.
Go with the PS pro control.
Don’t give these criminals your money. Not butt hurt at all.

First Previous [Next]()
Issac watched as the single refinery in sector had raw iron dumped into the cauldron, the induction coils around it heating up red hot as the metal inside the container bubbled and smoked away impurities. The coils dulled down automatically a minute later and the cauldron rotated, pouring molten iron into the facility where it would be poured into ingots for storage, moulds for hull plating and hundreds of other standard fabrication designs that the station might need.
The cargo ship was in its berth, the only one section one had so once the mining ship was done it would have to leave the berth for the docking ship to enter, undergo maintenance and then be moved into storage. Right next to the second cargo ship they’d moved here as well.
Without it in the berth, maintenance and prep had taken and extra day for Bradley to give the all clear. Miles and his security had put a team together and had a container with their equipment. A team of 10 was the limit. Both Issac and Miles wanted more, a team of 25 was preferable, but with the incident one of the things that was hit hard were the vacuum suits. And the security team only had 10 sets intact.
It was just another thing added to the list they needed from the JA cruiser.
His eyes drifted up from the smelter and docks, refocusing onto the titanium glass dome that was covered in a lattice of cracks but had done its job of keeping the atmosphere mostly in and drifted further until it reached the massive gate doors and the mechanism that let them open and close.
The jagged line that had cut through the door had transformed into a pixelated slice, large chunks of metal cut free and gently drifting on cables towards massive maintenance hatches for recycling…and beyond that in the dark was a light that was slightly brighter than the others. Orbiting that slightly brighter light was a ship and on that ship was what he needed to keep this station alive a little longer.
He looked down past the glass past the foundry until his eyes hit the bridge floor, his feet and then focussed on the cup in his hand.
“You’re feeling it aren't you?”
He jumps but doesn't. It's a strange thing he feels the response but then some part of him goes and stops it.
Turning around he sees Clarrissa standing at the door to the bridge. “I checked on the others too, the surviving officers. Told them I had to take the operation because of a tumour. Extended my contract by 15 years for it. Means I got to tell them what to expect. Got them to show me their medical scans, most of them anyway.”
“Expect what?” Issac asks.
“The things they don't tell you when you sign the contract. Your brain is now surplus to requirements, it's been superseded by the neural matrix in your skull. And parts of it are already dying off. The suppressants and drug cocktails giving your body the micro dosages of special elements your implant needs to keep growing, winding its way through your brain. Taking over comparatively sluggish organic processes.”
“Why.”
Clare shrugs. “The problem with evolution is it chooses what works best at the time, not what's efficient. The big wigs wanted a template for a better brain to build a better human around, and once they had that they realised that certain things were a bit surplus to requirements.”
“Such as?”
“Your occipital lobe is the first to go. It had a big lump of crystal and exotic elements shoved into it after all. Means that your vision will change. You’ll gain peripheral acuity, you’ll notice the blind spot of your eye until it disappears in a month or two. Your Parietal lobe, The bit above and in front of your vision centre goes strange next. Its basically working like a backup now. So it’ll simplify, shrink a bit. But that does mean multitasking becomes easier, things like maths and spacial awareness get better. But it also handles pain. So that’ll change.”
“How?” Issac asks, interrupting her with a raised hand. In response she pulls out a long needle and calmly pulls up her sleeve and removes a bandage to reveal where a dozen small wounds are and calmly shoves it through the muscle of her forearm.
“Pain is a message informing you of damage.” she says pulling the needle out. “the reaction ‘ow that hurts!’” she says expressing pain and clamping her hand over the new and bleeding hole. A moment later her expression levels out. And she calmly takes her hand away and starts redressing the area. “It becomes a choice. Your digital mind registers it and then you get the choice to react, or file it away for later.”
“And the frontal cortex?”
“Well, that's the part you need to really watch for. It is furthest from the implants initial location but also the one it messes with the most, because by then it's almost fully integrated. It’ll assault the area, things stop being as entertaining, as funny, some drugs loose effect, others get a lot stronger. Emotions level out…at least it did for me…others in the program I was part of”
“Other snakes.” Issac says.
“Yes…most of them stopped being able to empathise properly. They stopped thinking of the corp as a family and more like a machine. And themselves as the administrators. Answerable only to the board. They forgot that people need a reason beyond the job to work and would look for any reason to make the machine more efficient.”
“And you didn't?” Issac asks.
“I could have. It's so easy to let logic take over. But I'm a botanist. And you can't grow and care for plants without caring. But that's not the part I'm warning you of. A few of my colleagues went further. They started to crave the feelings they used to have but it takes more to get the same result. Relationships become funnels for satisfying urges. Sex becomes rape, light drug use becomes hardcore drug abuse. The thrill of a fight becomes the love of inflicting pain.”
“And every officer is now cyberized and walking down that path.”
“Which is why I'm being mostly honest with you and saying that IF I need to do my job. I will, without mercy.”
“Am I supposed to thank you for that?” Issac asks.
“Yes. Because if you could see the thing you’d become you would be horrified. But now you know what the corp doesn't want you to know. You and the other officers can be on guard to the signs.” she says.
Issac sighs and nods. “You’re right…what do you think of our chances?”
“For the next year? Pretty good. Worst case scenario we’re actually fairly well equipped to rebuild somewhere. Best case scenario? We find other ships, other colonies, maybe jump back to Sol and find earth completely fine.” she replies.
Issac shakes his head. “That's not worse case. Worse case is we find other humans and they destroy the station. Or whatever caused this happens again. Or whoever caused it finds us. There’s a lot of ways we die, humanity dies. But not a lot of ways to survive…thanks for telling me what to expect. You’ll be watching tomorrow?”
“Yea…want me to come up here for it? My team knows their work well enough that I can let them work for a day or two.” she says crossing her arms and smiling at him.
Issac stares at her for a second looking for something that's not there before nodding. “I could use the company up here.”
“Then its a date. I’ll sort us out for lunch.” she says turning and leaving him.
He sighs and looks down at his cup. The liquid inside was cold now and his arm ached from being held up at that angle for so long. A note of worry crept in at how he hadn't noticed until he’d wanted to. Quickly walking over to a welfare station he empties the cold liquid and pours himself a cup of steaming hot caffeine with flavour then returns to his spot at the window watching as the cargo ship leaves, the second one moving on rails into the launching berth where two groups are waiting to load it up.
“System, terminal 9, bring up everything on cyberization implants…search sleep requirements and highlight.” he orders.
The next day he was watching the command terminal. It was off to one side of the bridge and dominated one wall. Right now it was showing exactly what the captain of the cargo ship was seeing, which was a close up and detailed view of the crippled cruiser before panning down to the planet.
“Look at the planet. If we trace back the orbit there’s a 100km gap in one of the slices that hit the planet…” the captain's voice faded out as someone else spoke up. “The cuts planetside aren't actually that deep, a few dozen metres mostly. It's just the scale of the impact. Damage to infrastructure would have been the killing blow. Look, nuclear fallout from reactor damage… a few defences around the city detonated too by the look of things….right the ship sorry I'm a research captain.”
The scope changed again back to the cruiser. “Docking bay for shuttles, Cargo door, or we could go close to the slice and move in from there…shuttle bay it is.”
“They’re not trained for this, remember.” Chief Botanist Clarrissa says walking in with two trays stacked on each other. “They’re going to be nervous, probably trigger happy.”
“Could you do better?” Issac asks.
“Leading them? No. If I had a squad of snakes. We’d go in cold and kill anything in our way to rip out what you needed. Which isn't exactly a good starting point when trying to form bonds of trust between former enemies.” she replies, popping the lid on one of the trays revealing a bowl of steaming rice and some processed insect proteins that look like what he’s been told pork is.
He watches her from the corner of his eye whilst he watches the command screen switch from ship camera to a vac suit camera entering in through a cut out airlock. Two security officers float into the airlock and begin setting up the cutting tools whilst another pair work outside to fit a plastic temporary airlock seal around the blown outer door.
By the time the inner airlock is cut through Clarissa hands him a steaming bowl of rice and not-pork drizzled in sauce. He accepts it and uses the spork to stab a lump of meat before scooping a mouthful of rice up and eating it and immediately gagging on the assault of flavours.
“Shit sorry, you’ve been eating paste since wake up haven't you?” Clare apologises, taking the bowl from him and handing him her yet unflavoured bowl once his coughing fit subsides.
He takes it and puts it to one side before reaching for his coffee and gulping down a mouthful then swishing another around to get rid of the remaining burn. “Spicy.” he notes.
“That was tomato, onion and bell pepper flavouring.” she replies with a smirk. “One of the advantages of having done this a few times post cyberization.” she says picking up the bowl and shoving a spoonful of saucy rice into her mouth. “Don't need to readjust my taste.” she finishes after swallowing the mouthful.
Issac shrugs and takes another small mouthful of just rice this time and lets the assault of texture and flavour batter him before swallowing it and moving onto the pork.
As he does the security team sweep through the corridors of the ship, a secondary screen showing a digital map of where they’ve been and what each section of the ship was for. A large portion of the space they move through is just cargo racks and stores that they quickly scan over, letting the cargo ship and by extension the station systems catalogue as they move.
Issac watches as the team secure their entrance to the ship and start moving through the rear section bit by bit. It doesn't take them long to find the first group of cyro pods. They’re easily twice the size of the ones on the tyco, each one when touched shows a display with the basic information of who’s inside. Name age and health.
“Can it be removed?” he asked before cursing and remembering that there was a good few minutes delay between him and the ship.
“Looks like the pods are built into the ship, it’ll take us some time to figure out a way to remove them safely. Lets get a count first and search for anyone awake, or any corpses.'' The search continued through the cruiser for an hour before the team returned to the cargo ship to rest, refuel their vac suits and go at it again. As they did they identified locked doors for armouries, the engine bay and a series of entrances that matched up with the exposed sections around the slice and the reactor.
The next day the cargo ship moved to the front section of the ship and the security team began again from a forward airlock and began mapping the front end of the ship. They didn't find any cryopods in long rows like last time but did find a locked and sealed room that didn't match anything the teams knew about. By the time they’d mapped everything it was time to wait on a command decision form Issac on how to proceed.
“What do you think?” he asked Clare who had joined him for a second day on the bridge.
“Hmm. if there’s any officers chances are they’re in a secure area close to what we think is the bridge. Every other section of the ship we’re fairly sure we know about. So it depends if you want to scrap as much as possible then wake up crew, or wake them up first and see about cooperating.”
Issac doesn't reply instantly. Instead he’s chewing over possible outcomes and what way is best to proceed. After a minute of silence he nods. “I want them to cut into what we think is the officers pod bay. Extract a few pods and bring them over along with whatever supplies we can easily grab. Get into the cargo bay for that but don't destructively open the bay doors. It’ll be easier if we’re not rescuing drifting supplies.” he orders.
Half an hour later the security team were moving again. This time they moved through the ship with purpose towards the sealed forward section and after setting up a pressurised zone, started cutting into the armoured door. It took them longer than expected since the door was reinforced beyond their expectations but after a brief consultation with one of the cargo ships crew they changed up their cutting mix and sliced through the bulkhead leaving melted hot slag around a large hole. Inside what just what they expected, more cryopods. What they didn't expect was a single starved person holding a rifle aiming at the door, pod open.
“Tyco security forces! Stand down! We’ve boarded the ship looking for survivors!” the officer in charge shouts.
The JA officer looks around and backs up still pointing his gun at the security team before backing up to the back wall. “STAY BACK I’LL S-Shoot!” he screams.
“Easy. everyone out, just me inside.” the security officer orders.
“Smart call.” Clare notes watching it from the bridge with Issac.
“Why?”
“The poor sod pulls the trigger, kills only one guy, the rest throw in a stun grenade and merc him. Recover the pods carry on with one casualty.” she notes.
Issac nods at the logic and returns his attention to the screen.
“Easy sir. We’re from tyco, your ships crippled. Something hit you just like it hit us.”
“LIAR. I i i i it w-was an attack. My pod opened so I could assess damage but the power went down, the door wouldn't open…orders are to stay awake and monitor situation…”
“So you did your job. And now a rescue team is here. But listen. We’ve searched the entire ship. Most of your crew seem to be alive but we don't know how to open these pods safely. You do…tell you what. One of the guys has a nutrient pack here. You look like you need it more than we do…”
The skinny officer nods still wide eyed. “Michel, grab your nutrient pack and pass it here would you?” the security man shouts.
A moment later a hand moves into view holding a foil pack with a spout on it. The officer takes it and holds it out. “I'm going to drift forward to the middle of the room ok. I’ll open the pack and take a sip so you know its not bad and then you can have the rest ok?”
The JA officer shakily nods and Issac notes the gun drop down slightly. The camera shows the security officer move forwards, then after a moment of sound. “Ugh, I swear it tastes worse than the usual stuff.” he groans before pushing it towards the officer. “I'm warning you that stuff is nasty. But it keeps you alive.”
The JA officer doesn't pay attention, instead taking the pack with one hand and sipping at the slurry inside, he grimaces and nearly heaves the precious sludge back up but within moments the pack is empty and he sighs in relief.
“How long have you been awake?” the security guard asks.
“Don't know. Since the incident.” the officer replies.
“We’ve been in the system, about 2 weeks now. So well done on surviving this long.” he says. “Listen my orders are to recover as many pods as possible, can we move these things safely?”
The officer nods. “Where to?”
“We have a cargo hauler docked to the ship. We’re going to take whatever we can. And leave the wreckage.”
“Wreckage?”
“That's right. Your ships been cut in half. Our’s isn't jump worthy but it's in one piece. And we have room for you and all your crew.”
“But your tyco.”
“And your JA and whoever hit you hit us just the same.” the security officer replies.
They go back and forth for a while more until the officer agrees to put on a crew survival suit and follow the security officer to the cargo ship. Once inside he’s shown the damage to the ship and the planet below.
“What did this?”
“We don't know. But we still need your help and your crew's help.”
“Are there any JA ships in system?”
“Not that we’ve managed to spot. Our stations scanners were damaged and still getting repaired.”
The officer sighs. “Alright, h-h-here's what you need to do.”

I ordered from Aliexpress this Ugreen 1m USB-C extension cable, and this PSVR2 storage and carry case, both arrived today after 2 weeks for about AUD $16 and $32 including GST
Ugreen are an established company that produce a wide selection of cables. Their USB-C extension cable ticks all the boxes, well made, a nice snug fit to the PSVR2's cable, and worked perfectly in my 3h session. The cable is marginally thicker than the PSVR2 cable, and feels well made. It is not braided and doesn't specifically have extra strain relief, it also feels like there is a tiny air gap between the outer black insulation and the inner cable. 1m is their longest length, and this is plenty for coiling with slack on the PS5 to prevent damage from yanking on the PSVR2's cable. Score : 9/10
The PSVR2 storage case is also very good, it looks inspired by the Meta Quest 2 case, and fits the PSVR2 + cable + extension cable + controllers like a glove.
The case features a linen material feel outer, a (bendy) hard shell, a thin velvety inside lining, an elastic buckle strap to hold the PSVR2, an internal mesh bag with zipper, 2 nice zippers and a carry handle.
It includes the accessories Left and Right foam padded lens covers, a Velcro cable tie, a well made stretchy thick mesh bag with draw string for the controllers and an instruction manual (for how to slide the controllers together).
Everything is well made, the PSVR2 fits neatly inside with the cable coiled, plus the controllers in the mesh bag. The plastic lens covers are thin enough to be bendy, and perfectly made to each clip on at the 3 and 9 o'clock positions. They're marked L and R, and you need the slight bendy plastic to remove them holding 12 and 6 o'clock to remove. My VROptician prescription lenses haven't arrived yet, but I suspect these plastic lens caps won't fit with the prescription lenses fitted.
Please take note that the velvet lining is thin, so there is minimal padding. In the Aliexpress photo #4 the case's internal zip mesh bag is draped on top of the PSVR2 rear strap. If you were to have the mesh bag sitting under the PSVR2 rear strap, it will slightly raise the top of the headband, leaving a slight indentation on the upper case velvet. (This is probably not an issue, the visor is flat and not under pressure, but I would follow the photo 4).
Score : 8/10 due to the the thin velvet padding and the lack of moulding to the insides, not really needed because the case fits like a glove and has an elastic buckle strap, but it would have been nice to have extra padding for the top of the headband.

The biggest game this week is undoubtedly Resident Evil 4, a remake/remaster of a classic that's been thrilling fans of video games ever since that Edge cover which, to my memory at least, was so gnarly it had to be hidden inside a plastic bag. Am I wrong? Is my mind playing tricks? Possibly - and doesn't that suit Resident Evil perfectly, and this magical game in particular?
A great game, like a great book or film, creates ripples through culture. This is why, as people often note, Avatar is such an oddity; all those sales, and nobody ever quotes a line or makes a reference to what goes down on Pandora Link to article