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2024.05.29 03:20 UnmovableFeast Pitchforks
It happened. He didn't deny that. Not like he was a suspect or anything—not yet—but he never denied it to himself. At the same time, this all happened over a decade ago—twelve years to be exact.
He didn't think of it every day; in fact, sometimes an entire month would go by where it barely crossed his mind.
In a way, that whole experience—he thought of all the abductions and murders as a singular event—now felt as if it belonged to somebody else.
It was a time in his life when he was confused, mixed-up, searching; a dark time, you know, like a phase. Who didn't have one of those in their past?
Plus, he was married now. His wife, Dee, obviously didn't know about it and he felt no obligation to tell her. Did he ask about her former lovers?
Sometimes there are things in the past and you just let them be. Whether it was Dee losing her virginity to the quarterback of the football team in the backseat at a drive-in or him using multiple black garbage bags and masking tape on that thing he didn't have time to bury in rural Tennessee, everyone has things they would rather forget about. Sometimes you just leave things where they lie.
So that's what Ned Doyle did.
Until that Sunday morning, November 6th, 1988.
He was a having a glass of Dee's pulpy homemade orange juice, waiting for his coffee to percolate, when he opened his heavy weekend edition of the New York Times (probably Ned's greatest extravagance—he liked its heft; and how the Arts & Leisure section made him feel culturally superior to his Ohio townsfolk, “the Philistines of Findlay,” he called them) when he saw the article buried in the back.
The country was two days from heading to the polls for the General Election—Bush v. Dukakis—so most everything else that week had been relegated to the back.
He read the article twice before he could even begin to make sense of it. It seemed to be a story about something called "DNA fingerprinting" and a 27-year-old baker in Great Britain named Colin Pitchfork who had confessed to raping and murdering two 15-year-old girls, in separate incidents a few years apart, after a new scientific process had been used to extract information from semen which he, Colin Pitchfork, had left at the crime scenes (likely inside the victims) some five years earlier.
Now if they could do all that after five years, why not ten years—or maybe even… twelve?
"Interesting story here," he said to Dee. It wasn't uncommon for Ned to read a news story twice—once for himself and a second time aloud to Dee while she brewed his coffee and burnt her toast. But this was his third reading and Ned acted as if it were his first.
"What do you make of that?" he asked. It somehow got worse each time he read it. After the third time, he felt as if he had been sucker punched in the stomach.
"Science Fiction is what it sounds like," Dee said matter-of-factly, pouring Ned his coffee in a mug that bore the Marathon Oil insignia. Findlay, Ohio was Marathon’s headquarters although there had been rumors circulating about a move to Texas.
"And unconstitutional," he said. "Cops running a dragnet like that, taking blood samples from 5,000 townspeople. Thankfully, that would never pass the muster here."
"They did catch the killer so maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea," she said, buttering her burnt toast. "Otherwise, who knows? They could have convicted the wrong man.”
Ned had already gotten lucky once – astonishingly so. Griffin Gerald Jones, the famed “I-75 Corridor Child Killer,” had claimed responsibility for all but one of Ned’s victims before dying in Florida’s electric chair.
"You can't have police in this country running around, sticking everyone with needles, drawing blood for some sort of science experiment,” he said. “Nevermind the Constitution, what about AIDS?”
“What about it?” she asked.
“There's been hundreds, thousands of cases now where people have been infected by giving blood,” he said. “That's a medical fact. Get accused of a crime and AIDS too?"
"It doesn't sound like any of the townspeople there in England got AIDS, darling. Unless there's more to the story, besides what you read to me."
He watched her spread orange marmalade over her burnt toast and take a bite. She had a dead tooth and he saw it every time she opened her mouth. He loved Dee but had never been sexually attracted to her. Not in the way he had been attracted to others.
"It really is just a matter of time before that stuff makes it over here," she said with her mouth full. "To this side of the pond, as they say." She took a sip of his orange juice. "Isn’t that how it always works? Things start over there in England, or in California, and then phht, before you know it, it makes its way to Findlay."
He held his hand over his stomach. She saw him wince.
"Was it my orange juice again? Was it still pulpy? I squeezed it by hand and even strained it twice this time."
"It’s not your fault,” he said. “I think it’s me. Orange juice is getting too… acidic for me." He looked at the clock on the coffee maker. "I'm going to be late."
He turned the page.
He played the 8 o'clock Mass by rote as he had many a bleary-eyed Sunday morning. It was pure muscle memory at this point. He made a few mistakes here and there, missed a key or two, but it was nothing the organ's sustain pedal couldn't mask – not that anyone would complain (not at the 8 o'clock anyway).
On Sundays Ned had four Masses: the 8, the 9:30, the big one at 11, and the 12:30 for the dilettantes who couldn't get their acts together for the 11.
He turned the page.
Today he was using Glory and Praise, AKA "the blue hymnal" for songs he knew by heart.
Turning the pages of his sheet music, reading each note, he was able to keep his mind off it.
Ned abhorred cliches (especially those involving sports) but he made an exception for “Out of sight, out of mind.” For Ned, that wasn’t a cliché; it was a way of life. He was a man who preferred to be heard, not seen, which made St. Bartholomew (or St. Bart’s) the perfect home for him.
In a spectacular architectural oversight, the church's pipe organ was situated so the organist's back was to the altar and pews. The organist of course needs to see what's going on in the Mass to read certain non-verbal cues but the arrangement suited Ned just fine. The congregation was comprised of many young families who had many young children—boys in particular—and it wasn't so much that he couldn't control himself because he was now firmly in control of all that; it was more that he didn't need any reminders of that time when he couldn't.
Especially during church.
So to see the altar behind him, Ned had installed an actual rearview mirror, the type you'd find on an old Buick, and he used a special type of putty to affix it to the mantle of the pipe organ. Having been the church organist at St. Bart's for nine years, he seldom needed it anymore—he could do it in his sleep—but it came in handy today as he found his attention drifting and he nearly missed the oratory refrain at the 9:30 Mass.
His real problems didn't start until the 35-minute break between the 8 and 9:30.
He was reorganizing his sheet music after the first wave of churchgoers had cleared out, when he began thinking about Colin Pitchfork again. The article said he was a baker in England somewhere—did it say he baked cakes or was that Ned's invention?
Even though no picture was provided in the Times article, Ned spent the balance of the 9:30 service picturing the 27- year-old ex-rapist/murderer working in his small English bakery, quietly going about his business, baking his cakes, when the police (Bobbies?) came.
Was he expecting them?
He played the offertory hymn, "On Eagle's Wings," as the ushers began taking up the collections and a family of parishioners he’d never seen before brought the gifts up.
And what was going through Pitchfork's head when he saw the Bobbies there? When they began asking him about rapes and murders that happened almost five years ago? The article said that he had initially given investigators someone else's blood when “the enquiry” began. Had he somehow caught wind of this “DNA Fingerprinting?”
There was a new usher, Ned noticed, in his makeshift rearview mirror.
The Times article said that one of Pitchfork's co-workers at the bakery had taken the blood test masquerading as Pitchfork because Pitchfork had told the co-worker that ‘he could not give blood under his own name because he had already given blood while pretending to be a friend of his who had wanted to avoid being harassed by police because of a youthful conviction for burglary.’ This story was later overheard by a woman in a pub who immediately went to the police.
Ned realized he had missed the homily twice now. Not that it mattered. Heard one you've heard them all and Ned was pretty sure there would be no surprises. Plus, he'd have two more chances to catch it. He knew he would have to really focus for the 11 o'clock. That was always the main event. He was going to play "I Will Raise Him Up," a complex hymn, which required his full attention. He would scratch that one now if he hadn’t read that article and if the Sunday programs hadn't already been printed. People liked that one –it was a real barn burner, as they say—and if he skipped it, there might be questions.
The last thing Ned needed right now were fucking questions.
Who was this new usher, by the way?
By the start of the 11 o'clock Mass, Ned wondered whether anyone would even show for the 12:30, seeing that it was already standing room only. The 11 was always the most popular Mass, but today felt different; it was packed like Christmas Eve. What was the occasion? Was the predominantly conservative town that afraid of Dukakis winning the presidency? Ohio was a swing state after all and that image of the little Greek man in the tank was unnerving, sure, but was it enough to warrant this sort of turnout for the 11 AM Mass at St. Bart's in Findlay?
Or was something else going on?
Ned didn’t believe they had come to hear his rendition of "I Will Raise Him Up."
Or could there be another reason? Maybe they had all read the same Times article. Maybe there had long been simmering suspicion of Ned in the community and maybe the article finally prompted the townspeople to join together and take arms. With pitchforks.
On March 31, 1892, the only known lynching in the history of Hancock County occurred when a mob of 1,000 men, many "respectable citizens," broke into the county jail in Findlay. They lynched Mr. Lytle, a man who had killed his wife and two daughters with a hatchet the day before. The townsfolk hanged the man twice (first from the bridge, then a telegraph pole) and then, in a classic case of overkill, shot his body over a dozen times. The authorities had intended to transfer the prisoner out of town at 1 o'clock in secret, where a train was scheduled to transport him to Lima, but someone talked.
Ned had only confessed what he had done to one person – a priest eight years prior. The priest was set to retire as he was dying of pancreatic cancer and visiting from a nearby parish. For years Ned had heard this priest was “of the old school” – i.e., your word to God’s ear, and it went no further. He was as safe as they come. Still, even then, Ned used the screened side of the Confessional, lowered his voice a full octave, and spoke of what he had done obliquely and in generalities. They were mortal sins. His penance severe: to repent and refrain from repeating the act again. The priest was now long dead. There’s no way he could have tracked Ned down and told anyone. Was there?
The last one was named Derek. That was the only one left unsolved.
He would play "I Will Raise Him Up" during Communion. Because of the crowds, he knew the communion lines would be longer and would thus require him to stretch the already difficult song a few minutes longer. If he was going to supply the masses, he was going to need a bigger yield. In a way it was like baking a cake, wasn't it?
He met Derek at a Dairy Queen in Paducah, Kentucky. It was Labor Day 1976. It must have been 100 degrees out, but it felt even hotter with the humidity. It was a real scorcher.
Derek had a bicycle with an American flag banana seat. It was the summer of Bicentennial Fever. The Dairy Queen was in an area known as Noble Park. It had a tin canopy that kept cars cool in the shade.
Ned missed a note as he turned the page. He stepped on the sustain pedal and his mistake sounded deliberate and beautiful even.
It was early evening; fireflies were out in full force and Ned was blotto. He had been drinking beer—cans of Schlitz—all day at the picnic of a friend (technically, the friend of an acquaintance so basically a stranger). A born introvert who still lived alone (this was pre-Dee), Ned was very drunk and primed for small talk. You must also remember this was a very different time. This was back when you still opened cans with an opener; drunk driving was frowned upon but not the cardinal sin it is today; and a grown man could still park outside a Dairy Queen and strike up an innocent conversation with a prepubescent boy on a bike.
"What da ya' got there?" Ned asked.
"Butterscotch Sundae," the boy said. The boy was blonde with brown eyes.
"Butterscotch, eh?"
The boy licked his plastic spoon and stared somewhere beyond the pea-green 1974 Buick Riviera Ned had inherited from his old man after he had kicked the bucket.
"For the life of me, I can't remember if I like butterscotch or not," Ned said. "That probably sounds pretty screwy, I bet."
"Get a free sample at the window,” the kid said. “They're free."
"Looks awfully busy over there. Mind if I have a taste of yours? I don't have any cooties, I promise."
The kid dragged his spoon over his ice cream as he mulled it over. Maybe seeing that he was almost done with it anyway, he figured what's the harm. He handed Ned the Styrofoam cup.
Ned looked at the boy as he stirred it a little and then placed the curved side of the spoon on his tongue and kept it there.
"I do like butterscotch," Ned said, giving it back. "Thank you for sharing that with me, that was awfully kind of you—say, what is your name?"
"Derek," the boy said.
"Derek. What a nice boy you are. Do you like dogs, Derek?"
"Sure," Derek said.
"Do you have a dog?"
"Not anymore. Used to. We had a beagle named Eleanor but she went blind and then lame and then..."
"What kind of dog was she?" Ned asked.
"A beagle," the boy said.
"A beagle, yes you said that. You like Golden Retrievers?"
"Sure," the boy said.
"Cause I have a Golden Retriever. It's a girl too. A bitch."
Derek smiled.
"She's pregnant. I mean she was. But… she just gave birth."
"To puppies?"
"You betcha. It was just a few weeks ago. She had a whole litter of 'em. Boys, girls. Cutest little pups you've ever seen. The thing is, Derek, I don't know what to do with them all. You're a nice boy. You just shared your Butterscotch Sundae with me and I'd care to return the favor. Would you… like a puppy?"
"How much?"
"For nothing,” Ned said. “For free.”
"You'll give me a puppy for nothing? And I can pick the one I want?"
"Sure can. They're at my place just down the road. Thing is, it's probably too far to bike there. And you're going to need both hands to hold on to the puppy. Hop in, I’ll give you a lift."
"What about my bike?"
"We could put it in the trunk but we're not going to be long. We'll be right back. It'll be safe here. People don't take things that aren’t theirs around here – especially when there's a lot of people around."
He remembered waking up on the floor of his apartment disoriented. He was late for work. He was still working as a salesman at the piano store. There was a big Labor Day sale still going on. Labor Day was always a big day for retail. The owner was a nice man and Ned wanted to call him and apologize but he wasn't sure what to say yet.
He hadn't planned on sleeping in. Forgetting work on Labor Day. The irony.
He saw the boy's underwear on his floor. They were tighty-whities from Fruit of the Loom. He thought of that every time he saw an ad for that company afterward.
They weren’t bloody but they were torn.
He remembered the sound of the filter on the aquarium he used to keep in his apartment. It was noisy but sometimes that was a good thing. He was very into Japanese Fighting Fish for a while until it became too expensive as they always killed each other.
There were no puppies obviously.
His apartment did not allow dogs.
His sense of disorientation and the ensuing panic prevented him from experiencing any of the usual remorse he felt afterward.
There would be plenty of time for that later.
The boy's body was in the bathroom just off the bedroom and he needed to get rid of it. He needed to get out of town. Out of Paducah. Out of Kentucky.
He placed the boy in a hardshell Samsonite suitcase, carried it out of his apartment, walked down the one flight of steps. He saw no one and he was confident no one had seen him. The suitcase was lighter than it should have been—a detail he never forgot—and he walked out to the carport where he saw his Riviera parked sloppily between the lines. He felt a wave of nausea come over him but he suppressed it. He opened his trunk, placed the suitcase in the back, and then looked around the apartment complex before walking back inside. He cleaned up with bleach. Showered. Hit the road.
There were no police gathered outside the Dairy Queen. It wasn’t a crime scene. He didn't look to see if the boy’s bike was still there; he didn’t want to appear suspicious.
He needed to get out of Paducah so he headed toward the freeway.
For a moment he briefly considered the Shawnee National Forest, which was to the north, but he stuck to his gut and took the newly-constructed Interstate 24 East toward Tennessee. Aside from getting out of Kentucky, he didn't have a plan. The asphalt was brand new and at times he felt as though he were floating across the highway. It took about two hours to get to the state line and once he was over, he filled up at a 76 Station in Clarksville, Tennessee. Only when he was filling his tank and had a moment to reflect, did he think about what was in the trunk. He imagined he had Superman's X-Ray vision and pictured the suitcase in the back, the boy's tiny body folded like a pretzel inside.
He missed both the readings, the Gospel, and the homily again. Then came the Consecration which was over before he knew it. It was time. He began to play "I Will Raise Him Up." In his rearview, he saw the communion lines forming and he thought he caught a glimpse of the new usher staring at him, but he couldn't be sure. He needed to concentrate on the song. People knew this one; people wanted to hear it exactly as they remembered it, and it was a full house, so the sustain pedal wouldn't save him this time.
Once he made it through the chorus, he knew he could relax a little.
The "DNA fingerprinting" in Pitchfork's case came from semen that was left inside of the victims.
Ned had made it to the outskirts of Nashville faster than he expected. He still hadn't checked in with Mr. Cory, the owner of the piano store. He desperately needed an alibi. Old Mr. Cory could probably send Ned to the electric chair if he wasn't careful.
He got on Highway 386 and headed north. After 20 minutes, he exited in Gallatin and drove around until he found an area he thought was remote. There was a road called Cages Bend.
He liked the sound of that.
It sounded hopeful.
He took that until he came to a gravel road, which looked as if it led to an even more secluded wooded area.
In the rearview, he remembered the cloud of dust kicked up by the tires of the Riviera he had inherited from his father, the drunk, who had done to him what he had gone on to do to others.
In the rearview, the communion lines were still going strong. No sign of that new usher.
He came upon a bend in the road that looked totally secluded, as if no one had been there in years. He cut the engine and listened for a moment. The invisible cicadas high up in the trees made it sound as if a giant rattle snake was slithering around him, preparing to strike. He got out of the car.
He didn't know if it was the trees or the fields of tall grass, but something smelled like semen.
He opened the trunk with his keys and pulled out the hardshell suitcase. When he closed the trunk there was a rustling in the tall grass but when he looked, he saw only a herd of white tail deer scattering.
Initially he had planned on dumping the body and taking the suitcase home with him. He didn't think to bring a shovel. Then he heard the sound of a bush hog—a piece of farm equipment with spinning blades that cut vegetation and cleared the land. He couldn't tell which direction it was coming from. He checked to make sure his suitcase didn't have any labels on it or name tags. He then two black trash bags in his back seat and wrapped the suitcase – one bag around the top, the other on the bottom, and secured it with masking tape. Then he carried it into the woods and set it down in some brush. He began snapping tree branches off to make cover but as the bush hog got louder and closer he panicked, leaving it only partially covered.
The communion lines had dissipated. Everyone was sitting now, even the priest.
Everyone always knelt until the priest sat and Ned should never be playing if the priest was sitting but somehow, Ned had missed his cue.
He concluded "I Will Raise Him Up" softly, using the sustain to ease himself out.
He looked in the rearview and saw the priest staring at him.
As was the rest of the congregation.
They would all be coming for him soon enough.
Unless he could make it back down to Tennessee and get rid of that thing once and for all – assuming it hadn’t been found yet.
Somehow, deep down, Ned always knew it was going to happen.
He was raised up, alright.
Now it was just a matter of time.
submitted by UnmovableFeast to creepypasta [link] [comments]
He didn't think of it every day; in fact, sometimes an entire month would go by where it barely crossed his mind.
In a way, that whole experience—he thought of all the abductions and murders as a singular event—now felt as if it belonged to somebody else.
It was a time in his life when he was confused, mixed-up, searching; a dark time, you know, like a phase. Who didn't have one of those in their past?
Plus, he was married now. His wife, Dee, obviously didn't know about it and he felt no obligation to tell her. Did he ask about her former lovers?
Sometimes there are things in the past and you just let them be. Whether it was Dee losing her virginity to the quarterback of the football team in the backseat at a drive-in or him using multiple black garbage bags and masking tape on that thing he didn't have time to bury in rural Tennessee, everyone has things they would rather forget about. Sometimes you just leave things where they lie.
So that's what Ned Doyle did.
Until that Sunday morning, November 6th, 1988.
He was a having a glass of Dee's pulpy homemade orange juice, waiting for his coffee to percolate, when he opened his heavy weekend edition of the New York Times (probably Ned's greatest extravagance—he liked its heft; and how the Arts & Leisure section made him feel culturally superior to his Ohio townsfolk, “the Philistines of Findlay,” he called them) when he saw the article buried in the back.
The country was two days from heading to the polls for the General Election—Bush v. Dukakis—so most everything else that week had been relegated to the back.
He read the article twice before he could even begin to make sense of it. It seemed to be a story about something called "DNA fingerprinting" and a 27-year-old baker in Great Britain named Colin Pitchfork who had confessed to raping and murdering two 15-year-old girls, in separate incidents a few years apart, after a new scientific process had been used to extract information from semen which he, Colin Pitchfork, had left at the crime scenes (likely inside the victims) some five years earlier.
Now if they could do all that after five years, why not ten years—or maybe even… twelve?
"Interesting story here," he said to Dee. It wasn't uncommon for Ned to read a news story twice—once for himself and a second time aloud to Dee while she brewed his coffee and burnt her toast. But this was his third reading and Ned acted as if it were his first.
"What do you make of that?" he asked. It somehow got worse each time he read it. After the third time, he felt as if he had been sucker punched in the stomach.
"Science Fiction is what it sounds like," Dee said matter-of-factly, pouring Ned his coffee in a mug that bore the Marathon Oil insignia. Findlay, Ohio was Marathon’s headquarters although there had been rumors circulating about a move to Texas.
"And unconstitutional," he said. "Cops running a dragnet like that, taking blood samples from 5,000 townspeople. Thankfully, that would never pass the muster here."
"They did catch the killer so maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea," she said, buttering her burnt toast. "Otherwise, who knows? They could have convicted the wrong man.”
Ned had already gotten lucky once – astonishingly so. Griffin Gerald Jones, the famed “I-75 Corridor Child Killer,” had claimed responsibility for all but one of Ned’s victims before dying in Florida’s electric chair.
"You can't have police in this country running around, sticking everyone with needles, drawing blood for some sort of science experiment,” he said. “Nevermind the Constitution, what about AIDS?”
“What about it?” she asked.
“There's been hundreds, thousands of cases now where people have been infected by giving blood,” he said. “That's a medical fact. Get accused of a crime and AIDS too?"
"It doesn't sound like any of the townspeople there in England got AIDS, darling. Unless there's more to the story, besides what you read to me."
He watched her spread orange marmalade over her burnt toast and take a bite. She had a dead tooth and he saw it every time she opened her mouth. He loved Dee but had never been sexually attracted to her. Not in the way he had been attracted to others.
"It really is just a matter of time before that stuff makes it over here," she said with her mouth full. "To this side of the pond, as they say." She took a sip of his orange juice. "Isn’t that how it always works? Things start over there in England, or in California, and then phht, before you know it, it makes its way to Findlay."
He held his hand over his stomach. She saw him wince.
"Was it my orange juice again? Was it still pulpy? I squeezed it by hand and even strained it twice this time."
"It’s not your fault,” he said. “I think it’s me. Orange juice is getting too… acidic for me." He looked at the clock on the coffee maker. "I'm going to be late."
He turned the page.
He played the 8 o'clock Mass by rote as he had many a bleary-eyed Sunday morning. It was pure muscle memory at this point. He made a few mistakes here and there, missed a key or two, but it was nothing the organ's sustain pedal couldn't mask – not that anyone would complain (not at the 8 o'clock anyway).
On Sundays Ned had four Masses: the 8, the 9:30, the big one at 11, and the 12:30 for the dilettantes who couldn't get their acts together for the 11.
He turned the page.
Today he was using Glory and Praise, AKA "the blue hymnal" for songs he knew by heart.
Turning the pages of his sheet music, reading each note, he was able to keep his mind off it.
Ned abhorred cliches (especially those involving sports) but he made an exception for “Out of sight, out of mind.” For Ned, that wasn’t a cliché; it was a way of life. He was a man who preferred to be heard, not seen, which made St. Bartholomew (or St. Bart’s) the perfect home for him.
In a spectacular architectural oversight, the church's pipe organ was situated so the organist's back was to the altar and pews. The organist of course needs to see what's going on in the Mass to read certain non-verbal cues but the arrangement suited Ned just fine. The congregation was comprised of many young families who had many young children—boys in particular—and it wasn't so much that he couldn't control himself because he was now firmly in control of all that; it was more that he didn't need any reminders of that time when he couldn't.
Especially during church.
So to see the altar behind him, Ned had installed an actual rearview mirror, the type you'd find on an old Buick, and he used a special type of putty to affix it to the mantle of the pipe organ. Having been the church organist at St. Bart's for nine years, he seldom needed it anymore—he could do it in his sleep—but it came in handy today as he found his attention drifting and he nearly missed the oratory refrain at the 9:30 Mass.
His real problems didn't start until the 35-minute break between the 8 and 9:30.
He was reorganizing his sheet music after the first wave of churchgoers had cleared out, when he began thinking about Colin Pitchfork again. The article said he was a baker in England somewhere—did it say he baked cakes or was that Ned's invention?
Even though no picture was provided in the Times article, Ned spent the balance of the 9:30 service picturing the 27- year-old ex-rapist/murderer working in his small English bakery, quietly going about his business, baking his cakes, when the police (Bobbies?) came.
Was he expecting them?
He played the offertory hymn, "On Eagle's Wings," as the ushers began taking up the collections and a family of parishioners he’d never seen before brought the gifts up.
And what was going through Pitchfork's head when he saw the Bobbies there? When they began asking him about rapes and murders that happened almost five years ago? The article said that he had initially given investigators someone else's blood when “the enquiry” began. Had he somehow caught wind of this “DNA Fingerprinting?”
There was a new usher, Ned noticed, in his makeshift rearview mirror.
The Times article said that one of Pitchfork's co-workers at the bakery had taken the blood test masquerading as Pitchfork because Pitchfork had told the co-worker that ‘he could not give blood under his own name because he had already given blood while pretending to be a friend of his who had wanted to avoid being harassed by police because of a youthful conviction for burglary.’ This story was later overheard by a woman in a pub who immediately went to the police.
Ned realized he had missed the homily twice now. Not that it mattered. Heard one you've heard them all and Ned was pretty sure there would be no surprises. Plus, he'd have two more chances to catch it. He knew he would have to really focus for the 11 o'clock. That was always the main event. He was going to play "I Will Raise Him Up," a complex hymn, which required his full attention. He would scratch that one now if he hadn’t read that article and if the Sunday programs hadn't already been printed. People liked that one –it was a real barn burner, as they say—and if he skipped it, there might be questions.
The last thing Ned needed right now were fucking questions.
Who was this new usher, by the way?
By the start of the 11 o'clock Mass, Ned wondered whether anyone would even show for the 12:30, seeing that it was already standing room only. The 11 was always the most popular Mass, but today felt different; it was packed like Christmas Eve. What was the occasion? Was the predominantly conservative town that afraid of Dukakis winning the presidency? Ohio was a swing state after all and that image of the little Greek man in the tank was unnerving, sure, but was it enough to warrant this sort of turnout for the 11 AM Mass at St. Bart's in Findlay?
Or was something else going on?
Ned didn’t believe they had come to hear his rendition of "I Will Raise Him Up."
Or could there be another reason? Maybe they had all read the same Times article. Maybe there had long been simmering suspicion of Ned in the community and maybe the article finally prompted the townspeople to join together and take arms. With pitchforks.
On March 31, 1892, the only known lynching in the history of Hancock County occurred when a mob of 1,000 men, many "respectable citizens," broke into the county jail in Findlay. They lynched Mr. Lytle, a man who had killed his wife and two daughters with a hatchet the day before. The townsfolk hanged the man twice (first from the bridge, then a telegraph pole) and then, in a classic case of overkill, shot his body over a dozen times. The authorities had intended to transfer the prisoner out of town at 1 o'clock in secret, where a train was scheduled to transport him to Lima, but someone talked.
Ned had only confessed what he had done to one person – a priest eight years prior. The priest was set to retire as he was dying of pancreatic cancer and visiting from a nearby parish. For years Ned had heard this priest was “of the old school” – i.e., your word to God’s ear, and it went no further. He was as safe as they come. Still, even then, Ned used the screened side of the Confessional, lowered his voice a full octave, and spoke of what he had done obliquely and in generalities. They were mortal sins. His penance severe: to repent and refrain from repeating the act again. The priest was now long dead. There’s no way he could have tracked Ned down and told anyone. Was there?
The last one was named Derek. That was the only one left unsolved.
He would play "I Will Raise Him Up" during Communion. Because of the crowds, he knew the communion lines would be longer and would thus require him to stretch the already difficult song a few minutes longer. If he was going to supply the masses, he was going to need a bigger yield. In a way it was like baking a cake, wasn't it?
He met Derek at a Dairy Queen in Paducah, Kentucky. It was Labor Day 1976. It must have been 100 degrees out, but it felt even hotter with the humidity. It was a real scorcher.
Derek had a bicycle with an American flag banana seat. It was the summer of Bicentennial Fever. The Dairy Queen was in an area known as Noble Park. It had a tin canopy that kept cars cool in the shade.
Ned missed a note as he turned the page. He stepped on the sustain pedal and his mistake sounded deliberate and beautiful even.
It was early evening; fireflies were out in full force and Ned was blotto. He had been drinking beer—cans of Schlitz—all day at the picnic of a friend (technically, the friend of an acquaintance so basically a stranger). A born introvert who still lived alone (this was pre-Dee), Ned was very drunk and primed for small talk. You must also remember this was a very different time. This was back when you still opened cans with an opener; drunk driving was frowned upon but not the cardinal sin it is today; and a grown man could still park outside a Dairy Queen and strike up an innocent conversation with a prepubescent boy on a bike.
"What da ya' got there?" Ned asked.
"Butterscotch Sundae," the boy said. The boy was blonde with brown eyes.
"Butterscotch, eh?"
The boy licked his plastic spoon and stared somewhere beyond the pea-green 1974 Buick Riviera Ned had inherited from his old man after he had kicked the bucket.
"For the life of me, I can't remember if I like butterscotch or not," Ned said. "That probably sounds pretty screwy, I bet."
"Get a free sample at the window,” the kid said. “They're free."
"Looks awfully busy over there. Mind if I have a taste of yours? I don't have any cooties, I promise."
The kid dragged his spoon over his ice cream as he mulled it over. Maybe seeing that he was almost done with it anyway, he figured what's the harm. He handed Ned the Styrofoam cup.
Ned looked at the boy as he stirred it a little and then placed the curved side of the spoon on his tongue and kept it there.
"I do like butterscotch," Ned said, giving it back. "Thank you for sharing that with me, that was awfully kind of you—say, what is your name?"
"Derek," the boy said.
"Derek. What a nice boy you are. Do you like dogs, Derek?"
"Sure," Derek said.
"Do you have a dog?"
"Not anymore. Used to. We had a beagle named Eleanor but she went blind and then lame and then..."
"What kind of dog was she?" Ned asked.
"A beagle," the boy said.
"A beagle, yes you said that. You like Golden Retrievers?"
"Sure," the boy said.
"Cause I have a Golden Retriever. It's a girl too. A bitch."
Derek smiled.
"She's pregnant. I mean she was. But… she just gave birth."
"To puppies?"
"You betcha. It was just a few weeks ago. She had a whole litter of 'em. Boys, girls. Cutest little pups you've ever seen. The thing is, Derek, I don't know what to do with them all. You're a nice boy. You just shared your Butterscotch Sundae with me and I'd care to return the favor. Would you… like a puppy?"
"How much?"
"For nothing,” Ned said. “For free.”
"You'll give me a puppy for nothing? And I can pick the one I want?"
"Sure can. They're at my place just down the road. Thing is, it's probably too far to bike there. And you're going to need both hands to hold on to the puppy. Hop in, I’ll give you a lift."
"What about my bike?"
"We could put it in the trunk but we're not going to be long. We'll be right back. It'll be safe here. People don't take things that aren’t theirs around here – especially when there's a lot of people around."
He remembered waking up on the floor of his apartment disoriented. He was late for work. He was still working as a salesman at the piano store. There was a big Labor Day sale still going on. Labor Day was always a big day for retail. The owner was a nice man and Ned wanted to call him and apologize but he wasn't sure what to say yet.
He hadn't planned on sleeping in. Forgetting work on Labor Day. The irony.
He saw the boy's underwear on his floor. They were tighty-whities from Fruit of the Loom. He thought of that every time he saw an ad for that company afterward.
They weren’t bloody but they were torn.
He remembered the sound of the filter on the aquarium he used to keep in his apartment. It was noisy but sometimes that was a good thing. He was very into Japanese Fighting Fish for a while until it became too expensive as they always killed each other.
There were no puppies obviously.
His apartment did not allow dogs.
His sense of disorientation and the ensuing panic prevented him from experiencing any of the usual remorse he felt afterward.
There would be plenty of time for that later.
The boy's body was in the bathroom just off the bedroom and he needed to get rid of it. He needed to get out of town. Out of Paducah. Out of Kentucky.
He placed the boy in a hardshell Samsonite suitcase, carried it out of his apartment, walked down the one flight of steps. He saw no one and he was confident no one had seen him. The suitcase was lighter than it should have been—a detail he never forgot—and he walked out to the carport where he saw his Riviera parked sloppily between the lines. He felt a wave of nausea come over him but he suppressed it. He opened his trunk, placed the suitcase in the back, and then looked around the apartment complex before walking back inside. He cleaned up with bleach. Showered. Hit the road.
There were no police gathered outside the Dairy Queen. It wasn’t a crime scene. He didn't look to see if the boy’s bike was still there; he didn’t want to appear suspicious.
He needed to get out of Paducah so he headed toward the freeway.
For a moment he briefly considered the Shawnee National Forest, which was to the north, but he stuck to his gut and took the newly-constructed Interstate 24 East toward Tennessee. Aside from getting out of Kentucky, he didn't have a plan. The asphalt was brand new and at times he felt as though he were floating across the highway. It took about two hours to get to the state line and once he was over, he filled up at a 76 Station in Clarksville, Tennessee. Only when he was filling his tank and had a moment to reflect, did he think about what was in the trunk. He imagined he had Superman's X-Ray vision and pictured the suitcase in the back, the boy's tiny body folded like a pretzel inside.
He missed both the readings, the Gospel, and the homily again. Then came the Consecration which was over before he knew it. It was time. He began to play "I Will Raise Him Up." In his rearview, he saw the communion lines forming and he thought he caught a glimpse of the new usher staring at him, but he couldn't be sure. He needed to concentrate on the song. People knew this one; people wanted to hear it exactly as they remembered it, and it was a full house, so the sustain pedal wouldn't save him this time.
Once he made it through the chorus, he knew he could relax a little.
The "DNA fingerprinting" in Pitchfork's case came from semen that was left inside of the victims.
Ned had made it to the outskirts of Nashville faster than he expected. He still hadn't checked in with Mr. Cory, the owner of the piano store. He desperately needed an alibi. Old Mr. Cory could probably send Ned to the electric chair if he wasn't careful.
He got on Highway 386 and headed north. After 20 minutes, he exited in Gallatin and drove around until he found an area he thought was remote. There was a road called Cages Bend.
He liked the sound of that.
It sounded hopeful.
He took that until he came to a gravel road, which looked as if it led to an even more secluded wooded area.
In the rearview, he remembered the cloud of dust kicked up by the tires of the Riviera he had inherited from his father, the drunk, who had done to him what he had gone on to do to others.
In the rearview, the communion lines were still going strong. No sign of that new usher.
He came upon a bend in the road that looked totally secluded, as if no one had been there in years. He cut the engine and listened for a moment. The invisible cicadas high up in the trees made it sound as if a giant rattle snake was slithering around him, preparing to strike. He got out of the car.
He didn't know if it was the trees or the fields of tall grass, but something smelled like semen.
He opened the trunk with his keys and pulled out the hardshell suitcase. When he closed the trunk there was a rustling in the tall grass but when he looked, he saw only a herd of white tail deer scattering.
Initially he had planned on dumping the body and taking the suitcase home with him. He didn't think to bring a shovel. Then he heard the sound of a bush hog—a piece of farm equipment with spinning blades that cut vegetation and cleared the land. He couldn't tell which direction it was coming from. He checked to make sure his suitcase didn't have any labels on it or name tags. He then two black trash bags in his back seat and wrapped the suitcase – one bag around the top, the other on the bottom, and secured it with masking tape. Then he carried it into the woods and set it down in some brush. He began snapping tree branches off to make cover but as the bush hog got louder and closer he panicked, leaving it only partially covered.
The communion lines had dissipated. Everyone was sitting now, even the priest.
Everyone always knelt until the priest sat and Ned should never be playing if the priest was sitting but somehow, Ned had missed his cue.
He concluded "I Will Raise Him Up" softly, using the sustain to ease himself out.
He looked in the rearview and saw the priest staring at him.
As was the rest of the congregation.
They would all be coming for him soon enough.
Unless he could make it back down to Tennessee and get rid of that thing once and for all – assuming it hadn’t been found yet.
Somehow, deep down, Ned always knew it was going to happen.
He was raised up, alright.
Now it was just a matter of time.
2024.05.28 23:28 redditredditredditit LeFraud's kids could never have this type of killer mentality
 | submitted by redditredditredditit to nbacirclejerk [link] [comments] |
2024.05.28 20:15 souronionmasterpiece I think my marriage is over
We've been together for almost 5 years (24f, 31M), we have 2 young kids (3f, 2m) The more I sit and think about it the more I see and realize what I hate about our relationship. I don't think I love him anymore, he's a good guy, but he'd be better for someone else. I don't like how he is with the kids when he's frustrated, he's never hit them or hurt them in anyway he's just not patient and yells. I feel like I can't be myself around him. I don't want to hurt him, and I don't want to hurt the kids in the process of all this. But this isn't the life I want, I want the kids obviously, but he's not what I want. He's always had an issue with the the things I do, the friends I make. He hates how fast I make friends. I've always made friends faster than he does and it bothers him, it makes him jealous. Before I met him I never wanted kids, I never wanted to get married. I love my kids and I would do absolutely anything for them, I'll smile in my mug shot for those kids. I was in a relationship a month and a half before I met him, and I can't help but to think maybe he was just a rebound that went too far. I had cold feet before the wedding, I thought it was just nerves, but maybe I never wanted to get married. I hated my dress, I hated how the wedding went, I hated where it was. He's the nerdy, video game type, I'm the farm girl, shit box truck type. I've recently started working again after 4 years of being a stay at home mom, the shift isnt great, I don't get to see my kids as much as I would like. He doesn't like that I only mention how much I miss the kids and never him. I work late so I'm not home for dinner, I've always had dinner ready for him after work, why can't he do the same for me. Why do I have to make my own dinner, or find left overs to heat up. So while he's upset I don't think of him, he doesn't think of me either. I feel bad for how I feel and for how I make him feel, I really do, but it's not fair for me to have to keep my feelings quiet. I feel so damn bad, but I'm not happy anymore. Maybe I'm just a nit picky asshole, I don't know.
EDIT: my son is 2, not 2 months. I have talked to my husband about this about a month ago. My feelings toward him haven't changed all though his actions around a few things not listed here have. He is currently in therapy and I'm waiting for them to call me back so I can start therapy.
submitted by souronionmasterpiece to Marriage [link] [comments]
EDIT: my son is 2, not 2 months. I have talked to my husband about this about a month ago. My feelings toward him haven't changed all though his actions around a few things not listed here have. He is currently in therapy and I'm waiting for them to call me back so I can start therapy.
2024.05.28 20:15 souronionmasterpiece I think my marriage is over
We've been together for almost 5 years (24f, 31M), we have 2 young kids (3f, 2m) The more I sit and think about it the more I see and realize what I hate about our relationship. I don't think I love him anymore, he's a good guy, but he'd be better for someone else. I don't like how he is with the kids when he's frustrated, he's never hit them or hurt them in anyway he's just not patient and yells. I feel like I can't be myself around him. I don't want to hurt him, and I don't want to hurt the kids in the process of all this. But this isn't the life I want, I want the kids obviously, but he's not what I want. He's always had an issue with the the things I do, the friends I make. He hates how fast I make friends. I've always made friends faster than he does and it bothers him, it makes him jealous. Before I met him I never wanted kids, I never wanted to get married. I love my kids and I would do absolutely anything for them, I'll smile in my mug shot for those kids. I was in a relationship a month and a half before I met him, and I can't help but to think maybe he was just a rebound that went too far. I had cold feet before the wedding, I thought it was just nerves, but maybe I never wanted to get married. I hated my dress, I hated how the wedding went, I hated where it was. He's the nerdy, video game type, I'm the farm girl, shit box truck type. I've recently started working again after 4 years of being a stay at home mom, the shift isnt great, I don't get to see my kids as much as I would like. He doesn't like that I only mention how much I miss the kids and never him. I work late so I'm not home for dinner, I've always had dinner ready for him after work, why can't he do the same for me. Why do I have to make my own dinner, or find left overs to heat up. So while he's upset I don't think of him, he doesn't think of me either. I feel bad for how I feel and for how I make him feel, I really do, but it's not fair for me to have to keep my feelings quiet. I feel so damn bad, but I'm not happy anymore. Maybe I'm just a nit picky asshole, I don't know.
submitted by souronionmasterpiece to Marriage [link] [comments]
2024.05.28 19:10 genderoutlaws found this at marshalls
 | get it.. haha submitted by genderoutlaws to TransMasc [link] [comments] |
2024.05.28 14:28 LeadershipMission Another character I wish would return…
 | I wish April the shopkeeper (who sells savoury soaps) and is a Wharfy enthusiast would return in the future. I found her hilarious and like Nat, I could see her coming back for a future episode because she was funny and quirky. Side note this episode also features Linda’s unique way of applying moisturizer and Gene’s concern that his zany hair day do might look a little too much like Nick Nolte’s mug shot!!!! 🤣🤣🤣 submitted by LeadershipMission to BobsBurgers [link] [comments] |
2024.05.28 10:20 jesseklein1977 Your Last Words for the Dead
the looming knocks echo from dreams into murmurs muted steps then thrashing from the hallways beneath the bed clawing pinning a blanket into a wake and procession scattering sheets in a mug-shot eulogy until every dead friend is swept like a leaflet no metric or mandate demanding diminished begging pitiful to bathe in a chamber pot absolve them their shame as contraband-mercy as this too must be taken
submitted by jesseklein1977 to Poems [link] [comments]
2024.05.28 02:51 Rys_lee Jade Gun Skin + Holiday Elf Skin. Best combo?
 | submitted by Rys_lee to JunkRatMains [link] [comments] |
2024.05.28 01:43 diwase Could you help understand this definition of "spoon"?
 | Thanks submitted by diwase to EnglishLearning [link] [comments] |
2024.05.28 01:41 Lazy_Hall_8798 My first mug shot
 | Bought these travel mug kits last year, finally got around to making one. Cherry and walnut stave construction. Sealed with shellac, lacquer top coat. submitted by Lazy_Hall_8798 to turning [link] [comments] The bangle was just an off-cut from the blank. |
2024.05.28 01:20 apehasreturned Booking the AEW World Title In 2024 - Part One: There Will Be Blood
 | While the AEW World Title has been through some tumultuous, CM Punk-adjacent times, the company is striving to “restore the feeling” with one of the strongest rosters ever assembled in a wrestling promotion, while also maximizing the talents of once-underused stars like Swerve Strickland and Samoa Joe. In fact, that’s where we’re starting off - with the recently maniacal and now beloved Swerve taking on the unstoppable Samoa Joe for the AEW World Title in St. Louis. submitted by apehasreturned to FantasyBookingElite [link] [comments] Dynasty However, we’ve got one thing to get out of the way first - and that’s earlier in the show. In the weeks leading up to Dynasty, Hangman Page said he’d do anything to stop Swerve Strickland leaving St. Louis with the title, leaving the main event in jeopardy of breaking down completely. While he seems to be considering asking for a No Disqualification match and trying his luck, Swerve thinks better of it, instead vowing to just… beat Page to the punch and jump his ass before the match. However, he’s stopped by Tony Khan, who says that he can’t let Swerve go and get into backstage brawls in good conscience. After seeing Jack Perry return to help the Young Bucks win the AEW Tag Titles, he says that he’ll simply prevent interference from taking place by suspending anyone who tries something during the main event. Joe and Swerve are both fine with the terms, and we’re off to the races for a good, clean fight between two of AEW’s most violent and tactical competitors. AEW World Title, Everyone Banned From Ringside: Samoa Joe (c) vs. Swerve Strickland Prince Nana accompanies Swerve out for an entrance fit for a champion, but he heads to the back afterwards, no seconds allowed as Samoa Joe storms to the ring with a confident smirk on his face. Introductions are made, the bell is rung, and HERE WE GO! Joe immediately tries to goad Swerve into a lockup, daring the challenger to shoot his shot against a man twice his size, but Strickland plays it smart, hacking away at Joe’s legs from a distance with stiff kicks. Pretty quickly, Joe gets frustrated, finally catching a leg and clobbering Swerve with a forearm, backing him up into the corner for a series of jabs and chops before GOING STRAIGHT FOR A MUSCLE BUSTER! Swerve frantically fights free, Joe catching him with a short-arm lariat to hang him up on the top rope before starting to clamber up himself. However, Strickland’s got plans of his own, dropping to the apron and BULLDOGGING JOE’S FACE STRAIGHT INTO THE TURNBUCKLE! Joe drops down to the mat, Swerve leaping to the top rope for a SWERVE STOMP, JOE FALLING BACK AT THE LAST MOMENT TO SLIP BEHIND THE CHALLENGER AND LOCK IN A COQUINA CLUTCH! Immediately grabbing the top rope, Swerve’s eyes are bulging out of his head until four, Joe forced to release the hold as Swerve collapses into the turnbuckles and EATS A GAMENGIRI TO SEND HIM TO THE FLOOR! Joe bides his time, mocking the crowd’s deafening cries of “WHOSE HOUSE? SWERVE’S HOUSE!” before heading to the apron for a PK TO SWERVE’S CHEST, ONLY FOR SWERVE TO COUNTER INTO A DRAGON SCREW AND SEND JOE CRASHING TO THE FLOOR! It’s clear in the early goings that this is going to be a chess match, but that won’t stop these two from going ham - whenever they spot an opening, they’ll do whatever it takes. Swerve keeps the pressure on by attempting a tornado DDT off the apron, but this time it’s Joe who gets to counter, wincing at the pain in his knee as he holds Swerve bolt upright for a VERTICAL SUPLEX ONTO THE FLOOR! Strickland sits up in agony, struggling to breathe from the pain as Taz points out it might have impacted a kidney, but Joe shows no mercy, following it with a GERMAN SUPLEX, NOW A TIGER SUPLEX, AND FINALLY A DRAGON SUPLEX TO LAY THE CHALLENGER OUT COMPLETELY! He rolls Swerve back in, lackadaisically covering for two before driving a few knees into the ribs of his grounded opponent. Joe continues to deal damage in the ring, focusing on the midsection with brutal stomps and round kicks, mixing in throws and slams to continuously wear down his foe. Eventually, he feels like he’s done enough to go for the Coquina Clutch again, struggling to flatten Swerve out, but the challenger is tenacious, protecting his neck and batting away Joe’s arms before trying to slide out from under the Samoan Submission Machine, Joe trying to trap him with his legs… BUT SWERVE TWEAKS JOE’S KNEE TO ESCAPE, AND NOW HE’S GOT HIS OPENING! AXE KICK TO THE BACK OF THE HEAD, AND NOW A JUMPING DDT! HE’S GOT JOE SET, THE CHAMPION COMING TO HIS KNEES… HOUSE CALL! ONE! TWO! THR-NOOO! JOE KICKS OUT! Swerve gets right back on the attack, pummeling the leg before flattening Joe with a DDT as he tries to get to his knees. The champion’s in trouble, landing an elbow to Swerve’s body before staggering into the corner, but Swerve rushes him with a pump kick in the corner, followed by a series of brutal stomps to the head. He clambers up to the top rope, calling for a Swerve Stomp, but Joe makes him pay for going for broke early, slapping him across the ear to ring his bell before HITTING AN ENZIGURI! Strickland flops across the top turnbuckle, Joe lighting him up with punishing strikes before hoisting him out of the corner for a MUSCLE BUSTER, BUT THE LEG GIVES OUT! Swerve drops down… POISON RANA CONNECTS! ONE! TWO! THR-KICKOUT BY JOE! The challenger rushes to the corner, measuring his target for another HOUSE CALL, BUT JOE TURNS HIM INSIDE OUT WITH A LARIAT! He drives Swerve into the corner, roaring in his face before unleashing a series of punishing headbutts, hoisting Strickland to the top rope and pounding some feeling back into his leg before once again going for a MUSCLE BUSTER… AND HE GETS IT! ONE! TWO! THRE-SWERVE JUST MANAGES TO GET THE SHOULDER UP! With Swerve having managed to get a shoulder up after a Muscle Buster, a furious Joe is on a warpath, hurling the challenger out to the floor and clobbering him with Muay Thai knees to the ribs and a vicious elbow strike on the jaw. Joe chops Swerve across the chest before uprooting the ring steps, setting them up near the barricade. He sits Strickland on them, winding up to run the length of ringside for a HUGE BOOT, BUT SWERVE KICKS OUT THE KNEE WITH A LOW DROPKICK, JOE SENT CAREENING HEAD-FIRST INTO THE STEEL! Swerve is gasping for air, struggling to recuperate and take advantage, but suddenly, he gets a gleam in his eye as he sees Joe raise his head, bloodied. He winds up… ANOTHER HOUSE CALL TO SEND JOE INTO A SEATED POSITION ON THE BOTTOM STEP! Scrambling to the ring apron, Strickland looks like a man possessed, the crowd rallying behind him as he taps into that sadistic side for a SWERVE STOMP AGAINST THE STEEL STEPS, THE CHAMPION SENT TUMBLING OVER THE BACK OF THEM AT A SICKENING ANGLE! The challenger works with all his might to muscle Joe up and roll him back into the ring, exhausted, but he still manages to scale the ropes. Joe’s on dream street in the middle of the ring, instinctively trying to get back to his feet, but HE’S CUT OFF WITH A SECOND SWERVE STOMP, DRIVING HIM STRAIGHT DOWN INTO THE CANVAS! ONE! TWO! THREE! Swerve Strickland def. Samoa Joe (15:48) to win the AEW World Title It was a sprint to cap off a long show, and as Joe looks up at the lights, it’s clear that Swerve’s grit and quick thinking is going to make him one hell of a champion. Prince Nana comes out to celebrate with him, the crowd electric as Swerve Strickland raises the AEW World Championship aloft to close out Dynasty. After the show, he’s congratulated by Tony Khan and much of the AEW locker room at the top of the ramp, including a begrudging handshake from Samoa Joe. Road to Double or Nothing With Swerve Strickland crowned champion, he’s kicking off Dynamite at Daily’s Place, getting to celebrate some more with Prince Nana and the AEW fans. He says he worked his ass off and did some crazy things to get his hands on this gold, and now the hard part begins - keeping it away from all those who want to see him dead and buried. On screen, Nick and Matt Jackson appear, the new AEW Tag Team Champions saying that they didn’t appreciate Swerve going over their heads to Tony Khan about his title match. As EVPs, they should be making the decisions, but they’ll sort that out with Tony, who “clearly has a bias towards Swerve, even congratulating him after the show.” Swerve brushes them off, certain he can face whatever odds the EVPs stack against him - after all, they’re still on something of a short leash in management. The Bucks warn him that he has a lot of enemies, and tell him that the Elite are a set of enemies he really doesn’t want to make. Strickland says he’s the champ; making enemies comes with the territory. The Bucks look disappointed, but shrug and turn off the feed before HANGMAN PAGE DECAPITATES SWERVE WITH A BUCKSHOT LARIAT! He brutalizes Swerve, even turning his attentions to Nana with a DEADEYE! Later in the night, Tony Khan is attacked by the Elite, dying a tragic death and never being seen again on screen. Included in the attack is a reinstated Jack Perry, who’s welcomed into the Elite with open arms before Hangman Page hits the scene. The Bucks look alarmed, having suspended Page months ago, but as Page starts stomping the shit out of Tony Khan, they embrace him, gaining two new members in their ranks. The next week sees Hangman explain his decision - he says that before Dynasty, he spoke to his wife. In October, Strickland broke into Page’s home, made his family feel unsafe, and Page promised to his wife that he’d make sure Swerve’s dreams never came true. That his behaviour wouldn’t be rewarded. However, Tony Khan stopped him from doing that at Dynasty; he made him lie to his wife, violate his word as Swerve violated his home… so he felt no remorse in doing what he did to Tony, a man who he gave everything to as a day one original of AEW. With the Bucks in charge, he’ll get to make good on his word, albeit a little late - at Double or Nothing, he’ll challenge Strickland for the gold. Swerve better enjoy the glory while he can, because in Vegas, it’ll literally be Double or Nothing; It’ll be a Three Stages of Hell Match, and Hangman will stop at nothing to bring Swerve to the Seventh Circle. Naturally, Strickland jumps Page to get his revenge for the week prior, a massive brawl sparking off and ending with the Elite standing tall. The remainder of the Road to Double or Nothing sees the stipulations slowly unveiled for the title bout - Page chooses a straightforward singles match, having come the closest to beating Swerve in the past under that ruleset, while Strickland goes for a Steel Cage Match to try and keep the Elite out of the equation (and to rule out the Buckshot Lariat by not leaving enough room on the apron). Finally, should it go to a third fall, the Young Bucks use their EVP powers to make it an ambulance match, saying that if he somehow manages to beat Page once, he’ll still end up carted out of the MGM Grand a failure, just as Killshot should’ve been years ago from the Lucha Underground arena. Swerve Strickland (c) vs. Hangman Page Double or Nothing Three Stages of Hell Match for the AEW World Title: Swerve Strickland (c) vs. Hangman Page It’s a big fight feel for the main event of Double or Nothing, Anarchy in the Arena having gone the Elite’s way to put Hangman Page in the driver’s seat for this one. Page is out first to Ghost Riders in the Sky, tapping into the same energy that granted him victory against Jon Moxley a year prior. However, Swerve matches it by simply having the roof come off the MGM Grand Garden Arena the second he steps foot on the stage, the pinnacle of self-assuredness as he makes his way down to the ring. He’s been here before, he’s fought this kind of war, and now all he has to do is push Hangman just as far as he did in the past. Fall One: Singles Match There’s plenty of hate between these two, but they’re both aware of the fact that there’s at least one more grueling bout to go after this, so there’s a bit of a tentative start. Swerve offers a high hand for a lockup, Page slowly meeting him in the middle of the ring and immediately grabbing a fistful of Swerve’s hair to slam him backwards into the mat, mounting him with a flurry of punches. Strickland flips him over, firing back with shots of his own before rising to his feet, rushing for a running shooting star that Hangman avoids, rolling out of harm’s way to the floor. Strickland gives chase, Page fleeing back into the ring and rushing to the opposite apron as Swerve feigns entering, Hangman slingshotting himself with a BUCKSHOT LARIAT, BUT SWERVE FAKED HIM OUT, INTERCEPTING WITH A DROPKICK TO THE ARM! Page clutches the limb as Swerve lands a high knee to the jaw, following it with a swift DDT to bring Hangman to the mat for a PENTA-ESQUE ARM SNAPPER! It’s clear Swerve’s already set his target, gaining the advantage early by outsmarting the overly aggressive Page, and he keeps the pressure on by looking for a straight armbar, trying to prompt Hangman into giving up a fall quickly to ensure minimal damage is done. However, Page manages to lock his grip, stacking Swerve for two before winding up for a SOCCER KICK TO THE BACK OF THE HEAD, FORCING SWERVE TO RELEASE! He begins ruthlessly laying into Swerve with a flurry of stomps to the skull, brutally assaulting his opponent before the referee starts a disqualification count. Page relents at four, but the damage could well already be done, Strickland looking worse for wear as he struggles to his feet in the corner… AND EATS A RUNNING FACEWASH BOOT, THE CROWD ERUPTING INTO BOOS AS PAGE STANDS TALL! Beginning to mug the champion with a devastating series of offensive maneuvers, Page is comfortably in the driver’s seat, intermittently giving Swerve a reprieve as he focuses on getting some feeling back into his arm. Soon enough, he looks to wrap things up with a Deadeye, giving Swerve an opening to reverse into a sunset flip, Page rolling straight through as Strickland kips up to NAIL A SUPERKICK TO A KNEELING PAGE! He seamlessly floats behind him, no wasted motion as he hoists Hangman up and over with a beautiful arcing BRIDGING GERMAN! ONE! TWO! THR-KICKOUT BY PAGE! Hangman rolls out to the apron to try and catch a breather, but Swerve’s a menace on the attack, flying at him with a forearm before kicking out the knee, nailing a Gamengiri to drop Page to the ground. Immediately, Swerve vaults over the ropes for an APRON PUMP KICK, BUT HANGMAN REVERSES WITH A DRAGON SCREW, JUST AS SWERVE DID TO JOE! Page grabs his arm in clear discomfort, but he can’t let this opportunity pass him by, lifting Swerve up for a DRIVING TACKLE INTO THE BARRICADE! He gets a hold on the back of Swerve’s head, smashing his face into the top of the barrier before going for a suplex gutbuster onto the guardrail, only for Strickland to reverse and drop into the front row. Hangman instinctively grabs at him, Swerve thumbing the eye and dragging him over for a DRAPING PILEDRIVER INTO THE FRONT ROW OF CHAIRS! The crowd clears out as Swerve muscles his opponent up, Page on dream street as he’s sent back between the ropes… ONE! TWO! THRE-KICKOUT BY PAGE! It seems as though Hangman’s operating on pure spite to stay in this first fall, commentary questioning what it’ll take for Swerve to beat him not once, but twice if that wasn’t enough. Swerve sticks to the gameplan, stomping the arm before landing a few Kawada kicks to the face to work Page’s head over, hoping to fill his mind with cobwebs and keep him off his game as he lines up for a HOUSE CALL, ONLY FOR PAGE TO GRAB THE LEG! PAGE ROLLS STRAIGHT OVER AND BACK UP TO HIS FEET, TRAPPING SWERVE IN POSITION… DEADEYE! ONE! TWO! THR-SWERVE LIFTS THE SHOULDER! Hangman starts driving knees into the body and head of the grounded AEW Champion, taking the simple approach of pummeling him as much as possible ahead of a certain second fall before stepping out to the apron. Page calls for the Buckshot Lariat, wanting to make the most of its near-certain ability to end a match before the cage takes away his ability to connect with it, but Swerve takes his time getting to his feet. Page launches himself the second Swerve’s off his knees, but STRICKLAND COUNTERS, USING PAGE’S MOMENTUM AGAINST HIM AND NAILING A FLATLINER! He scrambles to roll over, transitioning into a DEADLIFT VERTICAL SUPLEX, BUT PAGE DROPS BEHIND ON ADRENALINE ALONE TO NAIL A BACKDROP DRIVER! Swerve is folded up like an accordion as Page falls through the ropes to the apron, urging Strickland to get up… BUCKSHOT LARIAT CONNECTS, BEHEADING THE CHAMPION! Page clutches his arm in agony, worried the impact might’ve been numbed by his subconscious self-preserving hesitation, but he immediately scrambles to hook both legs… ONE! TWO! THREE! HE GOT HIM! Hangman Page def. Swerve Strickland (14:28) to win the first fall Fall Two: Steel Cage Match Page knows he should take advantage and capitalize immediately, but it’s clear his final furious surge of energy to pick up the first fall has now led to an adrenaline dump, leaving both men down and out on the canvas as the steel cage lowers around them. He’s still the first to his feet, Strickland barely stirring after the Buckshot as Page heaves him up and hurls him headlong into the chain link. Immediately using the structure to his advantage, Hangman grinds Swerve’s face against the steel, drawing blood quickly before swinging Strickland over his shoulder for a LAWN DART INTO THE CAGE, SWERVE TUMBLING DOWN THE GAP BETWEEN THE RING AND THE STEEL! Page admires his work, taking a bit of a breather to try and recover from the massive damage doled out to him in the first round, but he eventually drops down to join Swerve in the tight confines of their makeshift ringside equivalent. With no room to escape, Strickland is left prone to a series of brutal stomps, Page eventually reaching under the ring to pull out all manner of weapons: a chain, a cinderblock, a pane of glass, two chairs, and a special chair wrapped in barbed wire. Sliding the rest of them into the ring, he holds onto the cinderblock, placing it on the apron before lifting Swerve out of the abyss, looking to give him a taste of his own medicine from Full Gear. The crowd watches on in horror as a deranged Hangman gets Strickland up into a fireman’s carry… but SWERVE PUSHES OFF THE CAGE TO LAND BACK IN THE RING, NAILING A DROPSAULT TO SEND HANGMAN INTO THE STEEL! The champion is showing signs of life now, and with Page trying to balance himself on the apron, he’s got the perfect opportunity for revenge, picking up the barbed wire chair and SMASHING IT INTO THE UPPER BACK OF HIS FOE! Pinpricks of blood give way to a great cascade of crimson down the spine of the Hangman, Swerve maniacally swinging for the fences with each shot on a trapped opponent. Finally, he winds up for one more horrific blow, Page’s face up against the chain link as Swerve charges with the chair… PAGE DUCKS AT THE LAST MOMENT, AVOIDING HIS HEAD BEING SANDWICHED BY MERE INCHES! The chair drops to the floor as Page fires back with a forearm, battling through the pain, but Strickland is merciless, connecting with a headbutt to rock the challenger before rushing him once more, only for HANGMAN TO SEAMLESSLY COUNTER INTO A DEATH VALLEY DRIVER ON THE CINDERBLOCK! Page scrambles to get Swerve back in the ring, but the champion has the wherewithal to drop back down between the cage and the ring, making extracting him virtually impossible for the beaten Hangman. Still, Page grits his teeth, and uses his one good arm to haul Swerve’s body up onto the apron and between the ropes, hooking the leg… ONE! TWO! THRE-NOOO! Page can’t believe it, a fraction of a second away from a second AEW Title reign, and he’s clearly cracking from the emotional weight of it all. However, he has to keep the pressure on, setting up the two chairs near one of the corners before laying the pane of glass between them. He picks Swerve up for a powerbomb, LOOKING TO PUT HIM THROUGH THE GLASS, BUT SWERVE MANAGES TO DROP OFF HIS SHOULDERS AT THE LAST MOMENT! Strickland drops to the mat behind Page in a heap, Page letting out his frustration with a few petulant stomps before leaning over to pick Swerve back up… AND EATING METAL, SWERVE WRAPPING HIS FIST IN THE CHAIN AND DECKING PAGE IN THE MOUTH! HE STACKS A STUNNED HANGMAN UP… ONE! TWO! THRE-NOOO! Immediately, the champion transitions into a submission attempt, trying to use the chain to assist in locking in a crossface, but Page elbows his way free, pounding away at Swerve’s leg to try and get some space. He scrambles to his feet, realizing all too late that Swerve’s got the chain tangled around his neck - AND NOW SWERVE NAILS A SUPERKICK, PULLING HIM INTO THE STRIKE! Instead of attacking his opponent, Swerve leans over the ropes and laces the chain through the cage wall, grinning at his handiwork as Page lunges at him… ONLY FOR SWERVE TO PULL THE CHAIN, SLAMMING THE BACK OF HANGMAN’S HEAD INTO THE CAGE AND NEARLY SENDING HIM RIGHT OVER THE TOP ROPE! Hangman gasps for air as Strickland wrenches his body weight back, slowly lifting Page off of the ground… but his leg gives out, unable to support both men’s weight for too long. The challenger drops back to the canvas, but Swerve’s managed to use the cage to turn the tides as he catches his breath. Still holding onto the chain for dear life, Swerve builds up some slack to try and smash Page in the midsection with it, but Page meets him with a boot before removing the chain, averting disaster before connecting with a FALLAWAY SLAM, SENDING SWERVE ONTO THE BARBED WIRE CHAIR! ONE! TWO! THRE-ANOTHER KICKOUT! Strickland is bleeding heavily from his back now too, blood and flesh left strewn about the ring as Page goes for broke. Setting Swerve up on the top rope, he clambers up as well, the crowd rising to their feet as the two crimson-coated gladiators slug it out… AND HANGMAN GETS SWERVE UP FOR A DEADEYE! HE’S TRYING FOR AN AVALANCHE DEADEYE INTO THE GLASS… BUT STRICKLAND GRABS THE CAGE, PULLING HIMSELF BACK AND SENDING PAGE FLYING INTO AN ERUPTION OF CRYSTALLINE SHARDS! Hangman tries to rise up from the carnage on instinct, more glass digging into his skin as he attempts to stand, eventually collapsing once more as Strickland looks down. The ambulance is already parked on the ramp in case this goes to a third fall - if he deals enough damage right now, he could win two straight falls in the span of a minute. Knowing that going full send is the best course of action to maybe wrap this one up, he scales even higher, reaching the top of the cage as Las Vegas erupts… SWERVE STOMP FROM THE TOP OF THE DAMN CAGE, CRUSHING HANGMAN RIGHT BACK DOWN INTO THE SHATTERED GLASS! SWERVE GRABS HIS BAD LEG IN AGONY, BUT IT CAN’T STOP HIM FROM DRAPING HIMSELF OVER A LIFELESS HANGMAN… ONE! TWO! THREE! Swerve Strickland def. Adam Page (16:10) to win the second fall Fall Three: Ambulance Match Swerve can’t stand after such a hellacious drop, still clutching his leg as he sits up in the pool of broken glass. Hangman’s completely unmoving, though, so he has to get a move on as the cage starts to rise for the third and final fall. He rolls under the ropes, flopping against the ambulance doors and heaving them open to pull out the gurney… BUT JACK PERRY’S INSIDE, THAT RAT BASTARD! Jack leaps out as the gurney tumbles to the floor, immediately looking to cinch in some sort of sleeper on Swerve, but Strickland bucks him off and SWINGS THE DOOR OPEN INTO HIS FACE! Perry is stunned for just long enough to give Swerve an opening, Strickland grabbing a fistful of broken glass and HAMMERING PERRY ON THE JAW! Real glass, cry me a river. With Perry incapacitated, Swerve drags Hangman under the ropes and onto the gurney, trying to load him into the ambulance before he has the chance to come to his senses. He pushes the gurney up into the vehicle, but before he can close the doors, Perry’s back up, swinging wildly to give Page a few extra seconds. Swerve fires back, filled with adrenaline as he NAILS PERRY WITH A POWERBOMB ONTO THE RAMP! Hoping to get rid of Perry permanently, Swerve heads around to the passenger’s side door, opening it up and undoing the seatbelt as the terrified driver curls up against the opposite side. He chucks Perry into the passenger’s seat, buckling him in before CHAINING THE SEATBELT TO THE DOORHANDLE, TRAPPING JACK IN PLACE! Perry hurls verbal abuse at the AEW Champion as Strickland looks to head around the back and close the doors on Hangman, but PAGE IS BACK UP, VAULTING OVER PERRY AND TACKLING SWERVE OUT THE PASSENGER’S SIDE DOOR! Hangman’s got the advantage now, coated head to toe in his and Strickland’s blood as he rains forearms down with his good side. Picking Swerve up, he launches him headlong into the windshield, bringing the gurney around to try and strap the champion down. Swerve fights him off with a few punches, stumbling around the hood of the ambulance, but HANGMAN LAUNCHES HIMSELF FORWARD WITH A MODIFIED BUCKSHOT LARIAT, SLINGSHOTTING OVER THE GURNEY TO CONNECT ONCE MORE! He fights to pick Swerve up with one arm, the final Buckshot doing enough damage to negate his bad arm’s usefulness completely, but the champion keeps going on instinct with feeble elbows to the body. Page drags Swerve towards the gurney, trying to strap him in, but STRICKLAND WITH A WELL-PLACED KNEE TO THE JAW! He staggers away, not quite sure where he is as he finds himself perched against the hood of the ambulance, and now PAGE WITH A BOOT! Hangman clambers onto the hood of the ambulance, bringing Swerve with him as he looks for a POWERBOMB INTO THE WINDSHIELD, BUT STRICKLAND FLOATS OVER… AND PICKS PAGE UP FOR A BRAINBUSTER OFF THE HOOD OF THE AMBULANCE AND ONTO THE GURNEY! He can’t strap Page down, or even wheel the gurney to the back of the ambulance, as the gurney is destroyed on impact. He’s forced to drag Page on one good leg, heaving him around back and attempting to shove him into the vehicle… BUT PAGE WITH A CLUBBING LARIAT! He heaves Swerve up and falls out himself, closing one door… BUT SWERVE STOPS THE OTHER FROM CLOSING! Swerve kicks the door open and jumps out with a crossbody, only for Page to reverse into a FALLAWAY SLAM INTO THE RING APRON! He tries to kip up as he usually does, but he’s too physically depleted to manage, instead rolling slowly up to his feet and dragging Swerve back to the ambulance. He grabs one of the chairs from the ring as Strickland attempts to stand, leaving great bloody handprints smeared across the ambulance doors as he does. Page winds up, an unsuspecting Swerve turning around as THE CHAIR IS SWUNG STRAIGHT INTO THE DOOR, STRICKLAND DROPPING AT THE LAST MOMENT! The impact reverberates through Page’s arm, Swerve kicking it before taking out the knee with a low dropkick… HOUSE CALL CONNECTS! COME ON, SWERVE! GET HIM IN THE AMBULANCE! He hoists Page up, the challenger vanishing into the shadows of the vehicle… BUT PAGE IS FIGHTING WITH ALL HIS MIGHT, STICKING HIS ARM OUT TO KEEP THE DOOR FROM CLOSING! He pushes his bad arm through the gap, trying to grab at Swerve’s face, desperately clawing to drag the champion into the ambulance as well, but SWERVE SLAMS THE DOOR ON THE BAD ARM! ONCE, TWICE, THRICE, OVER AND OVER AND OVER! PAGE REFUSES TO WITHDRAW THE ARM, SHEER HATRED DRIVING HIM AGAINST STRICKLAND! NOW HE USES HIS OTHER ARM TO FINALLY FORCE THE DOOR FURTHER AJAR, FIGHTING THROUGH THE GAP… STRICKLAND KICKS THE DOOR WITH ALL HIS MIGHT, SANDWICHING A BLOODY PAGE’S HEAD IN THE STEEL! HE’S OUT COLD, AND NOW SWERVE ROLLS THE LIMP BODY IN - AND CLOSES THE DOORS! SWERVE’S DONE IT! Swerve Strickland def. Adam Page (9:57) to win the third fall Swerve Strickland (2) def. Adam Page (1) (40:35) to retain the AEW World Title Road to Forbidden Door Despite Swerve managing to knock off Hangman Page at Double or Nothing, the Elite as a whole are flying high coming out of the event after beating Team AEW in Anarchy in the Arena. With a collaborative show on the horizon, the EVPs are essentially shit out of luck in trying to screw Swerve over at Forbidden Door, with a Forbidden Door Gauntlet deciding Swerve’s next PPV challenger. Dynamite sees all manner of NJPW and CMLL talent striving to get their crack at the gold, but in the end, Shingo Takagi definitively puts Hiroshi Tanahashi down to stake his claim to Swerve in New York. We’re promised big time graps as Swerve Strickland’s set to defend the AEW World Title in New York against a man with plenty of experience as a champion in his own right, both in Japan and the United States: Shingo Takagi. Swerve talks about the respect he’s got for Shingo’s ability, and how much he’s looked forward to facing him, but also says he’s lent no quarter when he’s in the ring. Shingo may be bigger and stronger, he may be plenty accomplished, but Strickland’s not afraid to hurt him if he has to in order to walk away with the win - and Shingo promises the sentiment is mutual. On route to their match, they have a one-upmanship contest teaming together against the House of Torture and Elite tandem of Ren Narita and Jack Perry. Swerve and Perry make a beeline for one another, Strickland’s rivalry with the Elite far from over, while Takagi pushes the pace against the Reiwa Musketeer with an absurd barrage of offence. Despite their internalized competition, Swerve and Shingo end up making a pretty good team, Takagi turning Narita inside out with a Pumping Bomber and a Last of the Dragon for three. Champion and challenger stand tall before standing off, Swerve confident in saying he’ll keep the title in AEW, just as has always been the case at Forbidden Door. Shingo seems plenty confident himself, though - he says before Tanahashi tried and failed on back to back shows to bring the AEW Title to New Japan, he fell to the Dragon at the Tokyo Dome. Takagi’s never had the chance to appear at Forbidden Door in a singles match, and he won’t be falling short now that the opportunity has presented itself. Non-Title Match: Swerve Strickland vs. El Desperado On the go-home show, Swerve faces off with El Desperado, because they had tag matches against each other at Forbidden Door 2022 and 2023, and they had insane chemistry. Despy puts in a good showing, but Strickland gets a decisive win with a JML Driver, looking strong heading into his second PPV title defence. Swerve Strickland def. El Desperado (12:34) Forbidden Door AEW World Title: Swerve Strickland (c) vs. Shingo Takagi With both men having gotten a feel for the other’s arsenal, this is a clinic, Shingo and Swerve trying to outpace and outhink each other before it eventually devolves into outright mayhem, Takagi swinging for the fences to try and dethrone Strickland. Swerve is forced to match him in pace, nailing a 450 Splash to put Shingo on the back foot before attempting a House Call, only for Shingo to avoid the leg, nabbing the arm for a STAY DREAM, STRAIGHT INTO A MADE IN JAPAN! ONE! TWO! THR-NOOO! Takagi clobbers Strickland with a series of forearms to back him into the ropes, rushing at him before Swerve slips behind, no wasted motion as he runs the ropes himself… STRAIGHT INTO A PUMPING BOMBER! SHINGO LIFTS HIM UP FOR THE LAST OF THE DRAGON, BUT SWERVE REVERSES, WRENCHING SHINGO UP INTO A TOMBSTONE PILEDRIVER! Shingo’s rocked… HOUSE CALL CONNECTS! The crowd rallies behind Swerve as he hoists Takagi up into position, SEALING THE DEAL WITH A JML DRIVER! ONE! TWO! THREE! SWERVE STRICKLAND RETAINS THE AEW WORLD TITLE IN AN ABSOLUTE WAR, ENSURING THE GOLD STAYS IN HIS HOUSE! Swerve Strickland def. Shingo Takagi (20:15) to retain the AEW World Title Following the bout, Swerve and Shingo shake hands, Takagi congratulating him on a battle well fought, adding Strickland can be as vicious as anyone he’s ever seen when the situation calls for it. Strickland chuckles, slinging the title over his shoulder before WAIT A SECOND! THE YOUNG BUCKS ARE HERE WITH PAGE AND PERRY, BEATING DOWN SHINGO AND SWERVE! Hiromu Takahashi and Titan rush to the ring to try and help out their LIJ stablemate, but the Elite clean house, the EVPs sending a message to Strickland with a Buckshot and a Tony Khan Driver. Road to All In London It’s a long two months for Swerve to keep his title safe until AEW heads back to Wembley Stadium, but that’s not all that’s coming up - with the Elite laying waste to Swerve and Shingo after their bout at Forbidden Door, it seems as though Strickland will have to finally excise this thorn in his side. On Dynamite, he comes down to the ring ready to make a challenge, but the Elite beat him to the punch - last year, they won in Blood and Guts, and this year, they want to go two for two. The EVPs tell Strickland via satellite that they warned him about making enemies; now he’s got to find four partners. However, Swerve’s already got one, at least… Shingo Takagi, who doesn’t take much convincing to try and get his revenge, Swerve selling him on the idea by saying that he’s already taken out the Bucks before, so it should be light work to do it again. The next few weeks see Strickland on a recruiting run for Blood and Guts, getting Bryan Danielson on side by bringing up his shortcomings at Anarchy in the Arena, as well as his inability to be cleared for the past two Blood and Guts matches. This is Bryan’s time to make right for the years of coming up short, and Danielson agrees to stand by his fellow Washington native. Following that, Swerve makes a gamble by trying to bring on Darby Allin. Strickland acknowledges their history, but says Darby has a chance to not only make up for Anarchy in the Arena, but in doing so, all he’s gotta do is something he’s already done - beat up the Young Bucks alongside Shingo Takagi. Darby tells Swerve he simply doesn’t trust him; he’ll be pulling for his team to beat the shit out of the Elite, but he won’t be fighting Swerve’s battles. Similarly, Swerve tries his luck with MJF, saying if he’s a real AEW diehard with a tattoo on his leg, he’ll join forces with him. However, MJF laughs the offer off, telling Strickland to pound sand because there’s no universe where he works a tag match again, rounding it off by saying he’ll be gunning for the AEW World Title by trying to win the Owen. Desperate to round out his team, Swerve turns to PAC, throwing all the reasons possible at the wall to see what’ll stick - his history with Shingo making them a powerhouse team, his hatred for Okada and the Bucks. He says he trusts PAC to not walk away like he did last year, because this time, the fight will be about his cause, and not that of the BCC. PAC reluctantly accepts, but Strickland remains on edge, unsure of if PAC will stand by him when push comes to shove. Finally, Strickland is confronted by Brian Cage, who says he wants to be on the team. Swerve thanks him, but says he thinks they should go their separate ways, saying he respects Cage and the Gates of Agony, but doesn’t want them getting caught in the crossfire with the Elite. Having framed it as saving the Mogul Embassy the trouble, Swerve avoids a beatdown from Cage, but he’s still lacking a fifth man - leading to Nana suggesting his last partner be Will Ospreay, who he says is directionless after being betrayed by the Don Callis Family (who cost Will the match at Double or Nothing after he refused to use the Storm Driver 93). He’s got history with Okada that Swerve can exploit to get him on side, and even with Kenny Omega gone, he probably hates the Elite by association anyway. Swerve agrees with Nana, approaching Ospreay about joining and landing the tactical dagger to convince him - he tells Ospreay this is his chance to make up for failing the United Empire in a 5v5 cage match in February, which is enough to get Will on his side for a night. The road to Blood and Guts also sees the EVPs booking Swerve in an onslaught of matches against varied members of the roster to try and wear him down. While Swerve manages to earn victories in each encounter, he’s still clearly in a pretty bad way after seven gruelling matches over the course of three weeks, setting the stage for a battered Swerve to try and lead his team to victory in the most brutal stipulation AEW has to offer. Finally, on the go-home show, the EVPs simply… give themselves the advantage in Blood and Guts, saying they “can’t clear” Swerve to compete in a match to decide who gets it. However, they say he’ll surely be good to go on Wednesday, putting his team far on the back foot before the show even begins. Strickland, Danielson, Takagi, PAC and Ospreay vs. Okada, Page, Perry and The Bucks (Cont'd in Comments) |
2024.05.27 23:44 Shezaam Update to man vs bear getting me a dick pic.....
Original post
So I heard back from the GF. Here's what she said, "Well hes my ex now and in jail for holding a knife on me and breaking in my home after we broke up. But I really appreciate you telling me." She also sent me his mug shot showing charges for aggravated assault and aggrevated burglery. I encouraged her to see a therapist.
submitted by Shezaam to WomenDatingOverForty [link] [comments]
So I heard back from the GF. Here's what she said, "Well hes my ex now and in jail for holding a knife on me and breaking in my home after we broke up. But I really appreciate you telling me." She also sent me his mug shot showing charges for aggravated assault and aggrevated burglery. I encouraged her to see a therapist.
2024.05.27 18:46 Popcornandtea4me MJ lost a molar
So, now we take pictures of the kids in front of the fake wall. Looks like a mug shot background. She just can’t not post pictures of her kids.
submitted by Popcornandtea4me to PWebbssnark [link] [comments]
2024.05.27 16:05 Sussy_Sushi Is this optimal?
Hey, I'm a 9th grade student preparing for my exams. I have my period test exams in a week, i wanted to ask if my study routine or study session routine is optimal, heres how it goes:
submitted by Sussy_Sushi to CBSE [link] [comments]
- Watch one shot videos.
- While watching the one shot videos, roughly write down the topic and what it says.
- After 2 pages are filled up, turn to another page and write down everything that you remember.
- Now in another page, cleanly make notes in your own language.
- After completing this process, read the chapter from the book and then take a 15min rest (DO NOT USE SOCIAL MEDIA).
- Read your notes again.
- Do the intext questions and back exercises.
- Read the chapter again.
- Do sample papers.
- Now meditate in anyway, close your eyes, go for a walk anything.
2024.05.27 11:25 StrangerSirKai I feel like my cat is trying to drive my crazy: 10 y/o, behavior just getting worse and worse.
I got my short haired tabby back in 2016. She was a 2 year old stray we took in (she's fixed, gets her shots/a check up every 6 months), but she was very sweet and pretty well behaved. We had a much older cat already at the time, who was also very sweet but also quite fat and inactive. She didn't like to play, and didn't really get along with our new tabby even though the tabby would frequently try to play with her. Over time we've done as much as we can to acclimate her into a being fully indoor cat, but she still went outside some.
The older cat passed away a few years ago, and since then the behavior of my tabby has really taken a turn. We were already trying to make her a fully indoor cat, but she's become incredibly impatient and bizarre in her behavior. For the time she would spend outside, she'd want back inside pretty much immediately, regardless of the weather. She was SO demanding about coming in so quickly and so often, she's climbed upon and fully shredded both of the screen doors for our back deck (they're functionally completely useless; a full adult can walk through both of them) and the one for my bedroom window. She's been fully 100% indoors for about 5 months since she came inside with a scratch on her face that required an urgent vet visit.
About a year and a half ago, I got two new roommates who brought their own cats. Both cats are also very nice and one of them is SUPER social. He loves all people, and all animals, and just wants to hang out/play with anything that moves, but the affection my tabby had for my older cat is not felt here. I thought getting some new cats in the house would be nice for her since she'd become so restless being the only cat in the house, but she HATES them being near her and will, at most, tolerate them sometimes, but will refuse to play or be nice with them.
Since these cats have moved in, my tabby's behavior has become horrible in other ways. First off, her food bowl situation has been the same for at least 5+ years, but now if there's someone else in the house, she refuses to eat unless you follow her to the food bowl and watch her eat, even though she literally always has plenty of food in her bowl. The problem with this is that she'll aggressively commit to doing things around me that she KNOWS I don't want her to do. She'll hop on my furniture and shelving, intentionally knock things over, paw/scratch/bite at things like charging cords, keys, straps, aggressively sniff and lick/eat random shit off the floor when she knows I can see her, stuff her face into my coffee mug, etc. Note there's nothing conspicuously damaged when I'm not home; she ONLY does this shit when I'm in the same room as her and she wants my attention. She also does this every morning, around 6:30-7AM (which I usually am already awake by then, but still, it's brutally unpleasant when I just want to stay in bed for a bit longer) by barging into my bedroom and starting to jump on my dresser, snake terrarium, knocking things over, and mainly trying to bite my phone charger. Any room I'm in has to have the door ajar at all times because she'll claw at the bottom of the door and tear up the carpet if it's closed.
Also, one of the kickers here is that I actually spend MORE time with her than I used to. I was working a crunching overtime job through covid and now work a much more reasonable, reliable schedule where I see her more in the morning and am home earlier, but since my roommates moved in her behavior has just become more and more extreme. She also has more toys than ever, and I replace her scratching post regularly. I know this stuff is related to the older cat passing away, two new cats being in her space (she does like my roommates a lot at least), and her being fully indoors now, but these are things I just can't change. I've had cats literally my entire life, usually at least 2 at a time, but I've never had any with the behavioral issues I'm getting from my tabby. Not even close.
I inquired about her a while back specifically about her eating habits (mainly eating so fast she would regularly throw up immediately), but at least that's not been a problem for the past couple months. I guess at this point, I'm just wondering what I can do aside from either medicating her, or completely replicating her food/water situation to accommodate every other room I'm regularly in so she can feel secure eating wherever I am instead of abusing my property and making me follow her all the way across the house before she'll start eating. I just hope that if I decide to invest in the furniture and additional food/bowls/etc to accommodate her being able to eat in several other rooms, that's not going to upset her sense of place and unnerve her or make her even more anxious.
submitted by StrangerSirKai to CatAdvice [link] [comments]
The older cat passed away a few years ago, and since then the behavior of my tabby has really taken a turn. We were already trying to make her a fully indoor cat, but she's become incredibly impatient and bizarre in her behavior. For the time she would spend outside, she'd want back inside pretty much immediately, regardless of the weather. She was SO demanding about coming in so quickly and so often, she's climbed upon and fully shredded both of the screen doors for our back deck (they're functionally completely useless; a full adult can walk through both of them) and the one for my bedroom window. She's been fully 100% indoors for about 5 months since she came inside with a scratch on her face that required an urgent vet visit.
About a year and a half ago, I got two new roommates who brought their own cats. Both cats are also very nice and one of them is SUPER social. He loves all people, and all animals, and just wants to hang out/play with anything that moves, but the affection my tabby had for my older cat is not felt here. I thought getting some new cats in the house would be nice for her since she'd become so restless being the only cat in the house, but she HATES them being near her and will, at most, tolerate them sometimes, but will refuse to play or be nice with them.
Since these cats have moved in, my tabby's behavior has become horrible in other ways. First off, her food bowl situation has been the same for at least 5+ years, but now if there's someone else in the house, she refuses to eat unless you follow her to the food bowl and watch her eat, even though she literally always has plenty of food in her bowl. The problem with this is that she'll aggressively commit to doing things around me that she KNOWS I don't want her to do. She'll hop on my furniture and shelving, intentionally knock things over, paw/scratch/bite at things like charging cords, keys, straps, aggressively sniff and lick/eat random shit off the floor when she knows I can see her, stuff her face into my coffee mug, etc. Note there's nothing conspicuously damaged when I'm not home; she ONLY does this shit when I'm in the same room as her and she wants my attention. She also does this every morning, around 6:30-7AM (which I usually am already awake by then, but still, it's brutally unpleasant when I just want to stay in bed for a bit longer) by barging into my bedroom and starting to jump on my dresser, snake terrarium, knocking things over, and mainly trying to bite my phone charger. Any room I'm in has to have the door ajar at all times because she'll claw at the bottom of the door and tear up the carpet if it's closed.
Also, one of the kickers here is that I actually spend MORE time with her than I used to. I was working a crunching overtime job through covid and now work a much more reasonable, reliable schedule where I see her more in the morning and am home earlier, but since my roommates moved in her behavior has just become more and more extreme. She also has more toys than ever, and I replace her scratching post regularly. I know this stuff is related to the older cat passing away, two new cats being in her space (she does like my roommates a lot at least), and her being fully indoors now, but these are things I just can't change. I've had cats literally my entire life, usually at least 2 at a time, but I've never had any with the behavioral issues I'm getting from my tabby. Not even close.
I inquired about her a while back specifically about her eating habits (mainly eating so fast she would regularly throw up immediately), but at least that's not been a problem for the past couple months. I guess at this point, I'm just wondering what I can do aside from either medicating her, or completely replicating her food/water situation to accommodate every other room I'm regularly in so she can feel secure eating wherever I am instead of abusing my property and making me follow her all the way across the house before she'll start eating. I just hope that if I decide to invest in the furniture and additional food/bowls/etc to accommodate her being able to eat in several other rooms, that's not going to upset her sense of place and unnerve her or make her even more anxious.
2024.05.27 07:13 k76612613 Prospective parents should ask themselves what if their child goes homeless or becomes disabled
I find that surprised worried look on parents' face when something bad happens to their child both sad and amusing. I mean, they should have known. People die every day. Homeless, jobless people are everywhere. Millions are diagnosed with cancer every year. People get mugged, shot and stabbed out of the blue. This world has always been and will always be hostile. Since the dawn of time humans have struggled to feed themselves and fend off adversaries. You'd have to be kidding yourself if you genuinely thought life were a gift and this were a beautiful world. Not. I can't bear the thought of my child going homeless, so instead I go childless.
submitted by k76612613 to antinatalism [link] [comments]
2024.05.27 06:28 Bacon_00 After playing Star Trek: Resurgence, I rewatched The Last Outpost and was quite surprised by a few things
Just for some context, Star Trek: Resurgence is a "choose your own story" Star Trek PC game that just game out on Steam. The story is somewhat of a sequel to The Last Outpost, which is the 3rd episode of TNG. Since I generally skip S1/S2 TNG episodes when I rewatch them, I figured it'd be interesting to go back and watch the episode that inspired the game. Once I started it, I realized that I hadn't watched any of these early episodes in a really long time. It's possible I'd never even seen the entirety of The Last Outpost despite being a TNG fan since I was 9 years old.
Aside from Picard's jarring characterization as a grumpy curmudgeon (I got the impression that either Picard or Patrick Stewart really didn't want to be there!), I was most surprised by all of the casual banter the characters had in these early episodes. A few examples:
Another thing that struck me was the cinematography. The Ferengi's head, shot close-up against a totally white backdrop and taking up the entire viewscreen, was pretty awesome. The way they shot Picard against this giant Wizard-of-Oz-esque floating head felt way more stylized than TNG would allow itself to be in the later seasons. It gave the scenes a lot more gravity and visual interest compared to what we got later on in TNG/DS9/VOY, which was almost always the enemy captain sitting on a crappy bridge set shot with a medium length lens. There were also a couple of minor dolly-zooms in these scenes that I thought seemed pretty cool and added some flair to the proceedings.
There were a few other points of interest -- the Ferengi acting super wacky and extra alien, the obvious fingerprints on the outside of the conference room windows (I don't think the set designers anticipated a 1080p remaster in 1989!), and the pretty terrible makeup on Portal 63 (his character design was way, way better in the video game). I ended the episode thinking it was, overall, a pretty stupid episode taken at face value. At the same time, I loved it as a time capsule of super early TNG. I'm shocked that the game designers chose that episode to base their game on, but better than Code of Honor I suppose? Maybe that'll be the sequel.
As for the game, I'd recommend it to anyone that likes Star Trek, though I didn't love it as much as a lot of people seem to. It had enough going for it to get me through the 10-hour runtime without having to try too hard. Worth the $20.
I'll probably rewatch more early TNG after this -- definitely seems like there's more of interest there than I generally give it credit.
submitted by Bacon_00 to startrek [link] [comments]
Aside from Picard's jarring characterization as a grumpy curmudgeon (I got the impression that either Picard or Patrick Stewart really didn't want to be there!), I was most surprised by all of the casual banter the characters had in these early episodes. A few examples:
- Geordi and Data are whispering to each other during a tense exchange with the Ferengi on the bridge (which the Ferengi overhears and sets up a "caught by teacher" moment)
- Geordi quips something about "you had to ask!" to Riker after Riker asks Data a question that elicits Data to spout off too much information
- Data gets caught in a Chinese finger trap that's played up for laughs several times in the episode (which is totally absurd given there's zero chance Data doesn't have the entire history of these finger traps in his memory banks).
- Picard seems to be super, super annoyed at Data.
Another thing that struck me was the cinematography. The Ferengi's head, shot close-up against a totally white backdrop and taking up the entire viewscreen, was pretty awesome. The way they shot Picard against this giant Wizard-of-Oz-esque floating head felt way more stylized than TNG would allow itself to be in the later seasons. It gave the scenes a lot more gravity and visual interest compared to what we got later on in TNG/DS9/VOY, which was almost always the enemy captain sitting on a crappy bridge set shot with a medium length lens. There were also a couple of minor dolly-zooms in these scenes that I thought seemed pretty cool and added some flair to the proceedings.
There were a few other points of interest -- the Ferengi acting super wacky and extra alien, the obvious fingerprints on the outside of the conference room windows (I don't think the set designers anticipated a 1080p remaster in 1989!), and the pretty terrible makeup on Portal 63 (his character design was way, way better in the video game). I ended the episode thinking it was, overall, a pretty stupid episode taken at face value. At the same time, I loved it as a time capsule of super early TNG. I'm shocked that the game designers chose that episode to base their game on, but better than Code of Honor I suppose? Maybe that'll be the sequel.
As for the game, I'd recommend it to anyone that likes Star Trek, though I didn't love it as much as a lot of people seem to. It had enough going for it to get me through the 10-hour runtime without having to try too hard. Worth the $20.
I'll probably rewatch more early TNG after this -- definitely seems like there's more of interest there than I generally give it credit.
2024.05.27 05:29 rochietron12 January Fooze Mug Shot
 | submitted by rochietron12 to xChocoBars [link] [comments] |
2024.05.27 00:20 UberJonez What could it be?
 | Aeropress posted this on their instagram. Interesting to see what they've come up with. Personally it looks like a closeup shot of a cap for a travel mug? submitted by UberJonez to AeroPress [link] [comments] |
2024.05.26 21:12 Fabulini89 So my allowance just got bumped again😅
Hiiii everyone!!! I came with an amazing update, in big part thanks to all of your suggestions❤️❤️❤️. So big big thank you and hugs and kisses to all!!!!!
Now, onto the stoy. I've written my SD a heartfelt letter (where I've basically poured all if my gratitude and lustful feelings haha.... what cn I say, this man is so hot!!!🤣) when we met for dinner a few days ago. I could tell that he really really appreciated but before he could say another word I just asked him out on a date at my place... or more like I quickly blurted out an invitation and shot my lucky shot :)). He agreed and we ate our dinner in silence... though he had a big grin on his face that I absolutely adored🥰🥰. Gosh that man can melt icebergs with that smile and with those eyes.....
But I digress again😂. So the big date arrives, the "cinema", the tickets, the movies and the armchair (yup, only one, I will explain in just a bit) are all prepared and ready to go.... but there's a catch! Imagine his surprise when I answered the door, wearing an usher uniform (you know those old school jobs back in the day), only my midriff was bare, the skirt just about covered my butt and, of course, no bra or panties (and let's just say it eas obvious I was waiting for him, looking at my chest at least 😂🥰). I made a point to take his jacket off like a good little majordomo lmao. Afterwards, I led him to his seat, presented the tickets and the multiple beverages and popcorn ad candies options all laid out in the "cinema stand" in the living room. So far so good, he was smilling from ear to ear :)))).
But wait! There's more! After he made his choice and he sit comfortably in his chair, I personally removed his shoes aaaand I might have opened up a few buttons from his shirt to expose his chest... I swear, not for my own benefit!!! Just to see him relaxed and chill... I totally don't always swoon at that well defined chest... not al all..... gosh I'm really losing the point again haven't I?😅
So, he is in his seat, and I inform him that the movie will begin shortly, after the adevertisement break (cue In I put a playlist of trailers from youtube and I rush to the bathroom for my actual outfit haha). 10 minutes pass, and I emerge, in his favortie outfit: black garter belt and stockings, no panties or bra, with dark mascara and makeup coupled black lipstick on my lips (he loves how I pull the goth look hihi). Note: I also painted my nails and toes black, especially for him :))). He just about chocked on his popcorn when I came out. And do you remember about that single seat? What's the point of separate sits when all I want is to feel him close? Yup, I've decided to just sit on his lap/in his arms for the duration of the entire movie (that was the plan at least)... call me the devil, because I am 😈.
I swear, at about half an our into the movie (or more like 30 minuted of our hands roaming each others bodies, with me nuzzling and kissing and licking his neck, fingers, hands chest, and him touching and pinching every inch of my body) he just about had enough and threw me over his shoulder and carried me to bed, teasing and waiting be damned haha. What commenced was probably the most mind blowing but also emotionally filled sex that I've ever had........ just to give you little glimpse, a little moment that I will never forget: extremely rough missionary—just the way I like it. I was on my back in bed, hips balanced up, my legs on his shoulders and he was pretty much pounding into me. I was almost screaming, I'm sure it sounded to neighbors like I was being mauled. He kept going harder and harder and nearly fucked me off the bed. My head and shoulders were slipping off, but he chuckled, scooted back a little and helped me slide back onto the bed, and said "I've got you," and then kept going. My heart was so full because in the moment he really did have me in every way, and combined with the explosive orgasm that was looming, I was so emotionally overwhelmed that I pretty much burst into tears (a first for me). One of the most intense dopamine highs I've ever experienced... and this is just a snapshot of the whole evening..... it wasn't just good; it was explosive, obscene....
Morning (or late morning I should say) comes and I walk into the kitchen, coffe ready, him making pancakes. Our eyes lock and I could see how happy he was and he could see how giddy I was as well haha.. and we just start chatting.. about everyting and everything, always so effortlessly... We sit at the table, pancakes ready, coffe mugs in our hands and he tells me he wants to double my allowance which is already HUGE and waaaay more than what I already know what to do with it..... so at first I try to come up with excuses, with all sorts of reasons why I'm already so well taken care off but he had none of it. And he is smilling all the while I'm bumbling my words and try to list every reason under the sun for why I don't think he should do that. To shut me up he just dragged his chair closer, took my hand in his and told me that I've been a good girl, that I deserve every penny and that he wants to take care of me in every way..... and that, if I keep behaving the way I did so far he will keep increasing it because "he calls the shots" and there's nothing I can do about it. And yep, the way he said it turned me on incredibly.....Buuut of course, me being me and wanting to one up him (I'm a bit of a brat in case you haven't noticed😈) I came up with my counter offer: I accept the allowance on the condition that, from now on I will accompany him on his business trips in order to help him de-stress and relax🥰❤️. And for the deal to stand that he will have to take me on ALL of his trips going forward, the only exception would be if they interfered with my exams. He accepted quite happily I would say so myself and we shook hands on it 😂🤣.
So, there you go guys/girls! I hope the update isn't too long 😅🤣🤣. I absolutely must give my appreciation for you as well, for the ideas you gave me. I couldn't pull this off without you!!!!💖 My sincere and utter gratitude is bestowed upon you all :)
submitted by Fabulini89 to sugarlifestyleforum [link] [comments]
Now, onto the stoy. I've written my SD a heartfelt letter (where I've basically poured all if my gratitude and lustful feelings haha.... what cn I say, this man is so hot!!!🤣) when we met for dinner a few days ago. I could tell that he really really appreciated but before he could say another word I just asked him out on a date at my place... or more like I quickly blurted out an invitation and shot my lucky shot :)). He agreed and we ate our dinner in silence... though he had a big grin on his face that I absolutely adored🥰🥰. Gosh that man can melt icebergs with that smile and with those eyes.....
But I digress again😂. So the big date arrives, the "cinema", the tickets, the movies and the armchair (yup, only one, I will explain in just a bit) are all prepared and ready to go.... but there's a catch! Imagine his surprise when I answered the door, wearing an usher uniform (you know those old school jobs back in the day), only my midriff was bare, the skirt just about covered my butt and, of course, no bra or panties (and let's just say it eas obvious I was waiting for him, looking at my chest at least 😂🥰). I made a point to take his jacket off like a good little majordomo lmao. Afterwards, I led him to his seat, presented the tickets and the multiple beverages and popcorn ad candies options all laid out in the "cinema stand" in the living room. So far so good, he was smilling from ear to ear :)))).
But wait! There's more! After he made his choice and he sit comfortably in his chair, I personally removed his shoes aaaand I might have opened up a few buttons from his shirt to expose his chest... I swear, not for my own benefit!!! Just to see him relaxed and chill... I totally don't always swoon at that well defined chest... not al all..... gosh I'm really losing the point again haven't I?😅
So, he is in his seat, and I inform him that the movie will begin shortly, after the adevertisement break (cue In I put a playlist of trailers from youtube and I rush to the bathroom for my actual outfit haha). 10 minutes pass, and I emerge, in his favortie outfit: black garter belt and stockings, no panties or bra, with dark mascara and makeup coupled black lipstick on my lips (he loves how I pull the goth look hihi). Note: I also painted my nails and toes black, especially for him :))). He just about chocked on his popcorn when I came out. And do you remember about that single seat? What's the point of separate sits when all I want is to feel him close? Yup, I've decided to just sit on his lap/in his arms for the duration of the entire movie (that was the plan at least)... call me the devil, because I am 😈.
I swear, at about half an our into the movie (or more like 30 minuted of our hands roaming each others bodies, with me nuzzling and kissing and licking his neck, fingers, hands chest, and him touching and pinching every inch of my body) he just about had enough and threw me over his shoulder and carried me to bed, teasing and waiting be damned haha. What commenced was probably the most mind blowing but also emotionally filled sex that I've ever had........ just to give you little glimpse, a little moment that I will never forget: extremely rough missionary—just the way I like it. I was on my back in bed, hips balanced up, my legs on his shoulders and he was pretty much pounding into me. I was almost screaming, I'm sure it sounded to neighbors like I was being mauled. He kept going harder and harder and nearly fucked me off the bed. My head and shoulders were slipping off, but he chuckled, scooted back a little and helped me slide back onto the bed, and said "I've got you," and then kept going. My heart was so full because in the moment he really did have me in every way, and combined with the explosive orgasm that was looming, I was so emotionally overwhelmed that I pretty much burst into tears (a first for me). One of the most intense dopamine highs I've ever experienced... and this is just a snapshot of the whole evening..... it wasn't just good; it was explosive, obscene....
Morning (or late morning I should say) comes and I walk into the kitchen, coffe ready, him making pancakes. Our eyes lock and I could see how happy he was and he could see how giddy I was as well haha.. and we just start chatting.. about everyting and everything, always so effortlessly... We sit at the table, pancakes ready, coffe mugs in our hands and he tells me he wants to double my allowance which is already HUGE and waaaay more than what I already know what to do with it..... so at first I try to come up with excuses, with all sorts of reasons why I'm already so well taken care off but he had none of it. And he is smilling all the while I'm bumbling my words and try to list every reason under the sun for why I don't think he should do that. To shut me up he just dragged his chair closer, took my hand in his and told me that I've been a good girl, that I deserve every penny and that he wants to take care of me in every way..... and that, if I keep behaving the way I did so far he will keep increasing it because "he calls the shots" and there's nothing I can do about it. And yep, the way he said it turned me on incredibly.....Buuut of course, me being me and wanting to one up him (I'm a bit of a brat in case you haven't noticed😈) I came up with my counter offer: I accept the allowance on the condition that, from now on I will accompany him on his business trips in order to help him de-stress and relax🥰❤️. And for the deal to stand that he will have to take me on ALL of his trips going forward, the only exception would be if they interfered with my exams. He accepted quite happily I would say so myself and we shook hands on it 😂🤣.
So, there you go guys/girls! I hope the update isn't too long 😅🤣🤣. I absolutely must give my appreciation for you as well, for the ideas you gave me. I couldn't pull this off without you!!!!💖 My sincere and utter gratitude is bestowed upon you all :)
2024.05.26 19:52 maybenomaybe Trip Report: Hiking in Slovakia (High Tatras, Poprad)
Earlier this month I went on a trip to Krakow, Poland for 3 days followed by 5 days in Slovakia, based in Poprad. I was in Krakow by myself but signed on (as a solo person) to a women-only guided hike for the Slovakia portion. I am concentrating on the Slovakia portion for this report as several people indicated specific interest in other threads and it's an ideal place to plan solo hiking, as I found out!
Day One - Getting There: I arrived at Krakow airport where the vehicular transfer to Poprad, Slovkia was arranged. There are direct flights to Poprad from London UK, where I live, but I think they are only 2x a week at the moment (I heard more are coming). Poprad-Tatry airport is about 4km to Poprad centre and you would need a taxi/car to get there. You can also fly into Bratislava and take a train to Poprad-Tatry station, the journey is 3.5-4 hours and one way is about 15 euro. The train operators are ZSSK (state-owned) and Leo or RegioJet (private-owned). Flixbus is another option. There is no direct train from Poland into Slovakia because of the mountainous border. The trip from Krakow to Poprad by road took about 3.5 hours and was pleasantly scenic, especially once we hit the border. I almost missed where we crossed the border because there's nothing but a tiny sign by the side of the road.
Accommodation: The accommodation in Poprad was a penzion, a type of small hotel or guesthouse, typically family-run and often including breakfast. There's tons of these in Poprad and they are quite affordable, plenty under £50/night and a few that are hostel-priced. This one was on the north side of Poprad on the edge of the old town and walking distance to the train station. The old town in Poprad is tiny, just a handful of streets around a main square. It was virtually empty whenever I saw it, but I gather it gets busier in high season. There are some good restaurants there. We met our local Slovak guide at the penzion and had a welcoming drink of a traditional plum slivovitz and she took us to dinner in the old town.
Day Two - Strbske Pleso to Popradske Pleso Hike: On our first day of hiking we headed to Strbske Pleso (pleso = mountain lake or tarn), a resort village where there are plenty of trailheads. We had a van transfer, but you don't need this at all thanks to the miracle that is the TEZ or Tatranská elektrická železnica (Tatra Electric Railway), a brilliant little two-car electric train that runs between all the major resort villages/trail centres in the High Tatras. There are 2 lines, one going Poprad – Starý Smokovec – Štrbské Pleso and the other Starý Smokovec – Tatranská Lomnica. For 4 euro you can buy a whole-day, hop-on-hop-off ticket, what a bargain! The train is modern, spotless and very well organized. You can buy a ticket at Poprad-Tatry main station either from a ticket agent or ticket machine. Once on the train you need to punch the ticket in a little machine, then it's good for the day. There are electric signs showing the route and upcoming stations, as well as announcements in both Slovak and English (the English announcements have an Aussie accent which I found very amusing). Where the lines meet, all the trains arrive at once and wait five minutes for passengers to change, then depart. The only drawback is that they are once per hour. They weren't very busy during my trip, but I've read in peak season they can become so rammed not everyone can get on.
Back to the hike! It started on the north edge of the resort and led up through an area called Rázcestie Trigan. We passed a studnička or well, which was a miniature wooden house with a spring flowing out of it, which we drank from. We ended up in the Mengusovská Dolina (valley) on the shore of Popradske Pleso, a stunning mountain lake. There is a lodge here where you can eat and rent basic rooms if you are on a multi-day hike. There is NO SWIMMING which is the case in all nature reserves in the Tatras, you are not supposed to put your feet in or even really touch it or get fined, this is to preserve the ecology. Two other hikers and I decided to hike the loop around the lake while others explored around the lodge. The views from the other side were gorgeous, just postcard-perfect. Then we descended back down to the village using a slightly different trail that followed the Poprad River and went over a bridge with a beautiful view of the rushing water before rejoining the outbound trail. Back in Strbske Pleso we went for lunch, and I had roast fallow deer, which was delicious. In the evening some of us walked into Poprad centre for dinner and had a traditional beef goulash, and beer. There was a lot of beer on this trip. It is generally served in two sizes, normal size for around 2 euro and then giant monster size for 3-4 euro. Note that a lot of Slovakian beer will say 11%, 12% etc on the bottle or menu but that is NOT the alcohol percentage, the guide explained that is more like the strength of taste.
Day Two - Biela Voda to Zelené Pleso: Again we had a van transfer to a road drop-off/car park with a shelter called Biela Voda (white water). If you are travelling by public transport, you can do a very similar hike to Zelené Pleso (Green Lake) from the resort village of Tatranská Lomnica which is just a bit west of where we started. The beginning of this hike was a long slog uphill but it followed the river Kezmarska Biela Voda with some beautiful views of the rapids. Once we were up high above the Dolina Zeleného Pleso there were incredible views of the mountains and valleys along a winding track that still had snow pack in some places and water rushing past my feet in others as it melted. At the end was the lake itself which was crystal clear and sparkling, green in the sun, surrounded by steeply rising mountains on three sides and tumbling into the valley on the fourth. Of course, there was a lodge with accommodation serving delicious food where I ate lentil and bean soup, and followed it up with a huge mug of stewed raspberries and cream. I wandered around the lake by myself (no touching!) before we headed back the same way we came, just ahead of an incoming rainstorm.
Day Three - Train-Hopping, Beer-Tasting and Cable Cars: The third day was our free, unplanned day and it was absolutely pouring rain. Half the group decided to go to a spa in Poprad, but two others and I decided we wanted to see more of Slovakia, rain or no rain. We decided to buy the all-day TEZ ticket and just go village to village, seeing what we could see. First we went to Starý Smokovec, another resort village, and ended up doing a short, very wet hike up to Hrebienok - in retrospect we should have taken the funicular up, as it was so cloudy there were no views to be had and the trail basically just ran alongside the funicular track. At the top we discovered Bilikova Chata, a delightful chalet-style lodge clothed in wood and animal heads, where we drank mulled wine and dried out. Then it was back down to the train station and onto Tatranská Lomnica, where we found a pub serving Slovak craft beer from Pálffy Brauerei just outside Bratislava. So we had a beer tasting, 6 beers for 8.50 euro and not small samples either! I also ate spinach dumplings with kôprová omáčka, a creamy sour dill sauce I thought was amazing. Last, myself and one other hiker decided to take the cable car to Skalnaté pleso, an alpine lake halfway up the mountain. Note: cable cars are the only thing that's not cheap in Slovakia, to go to the lake was 29 euro, to go to the top is 70. As we went up, everything disappeared into the mist and it was as if we were floating through nothingness. At the top we saw a few people heading back down and then we were alone on the edge of this icy lake, with visibility only about ten metres in the mist and rain. We hiked around the lake (it is very small) and there was still quite a bit of snowpack. It was very eerie. Apparently there are magnificent views all around, but we could see nothing but boulders and the edge of the water in the mist. We headed back down after that and returned to the penzion, where I had tasty venison sausage for dinner.
Day Four - Hrebienok Waterfall Trail: On day four the sun was shining again and with our guide we took the TEZ to Starý Smokovec. As the train crossed the valley floor outside of Poprad, a falcon flew at window level alongside us for a minute, what an amazing sight! We went up to Hrebienok again, but I was smart this time and took the funicular. We stopped again for mulled wine at Bilikova Chata, and then it was onto the trail to see a series of beautiful waterfalls. That day was a national holiday in Slovakia and the trails were extremely busy compared to the first hikes, where we saw very few people. The trail showcases a number of waterfalls in the group of cascades called the Vodopády Studeného potoka. Some of them were huge and one had a little bridge which crossed over the turbulent water. At the end point of the hike was the Rainerova Chata, the oldest mountain hut in the High Tatras built in 1863. It is tiny and can fit about six people max inside. Inside is stuffed with amazing memorabilia from throughout the decades, including a collection of painted cowbells strung from the ceiling. It was extremely busy here, lots of schoolkids, so we ate our packed lunch quickly and then headed back down. Back in Starý Smokovec, our guide asked us if we would like to have an hour to ourselves. A few of us asked what she likes to do after a hike, and she said she always got a coffee in the Grand Hotel Starý Smokovec. We joined her and it was amazing, a very old-school European style hotel, very plush and luxurious, felt very "Grand Budapest Hotel". I had a hot chocolate with fruit on the bottom, an invention I intend to duplicate at home. That evening the guide took us out to dinner in Poprad new town and we started off with a shot of fruit brandy that was so strong it triggered my asthma! To eat I had bryndzové halušky, tiny potato dumplings in a strong sheep cheese sauce which was was one of my favourite meals the whole trip.
Day Five - Departure: Sadly this was our last day and we had only the morning in Poprad so we headed into the new town and had some locally made ice cream - I had apple which is a flavour I've never had in ice cream before. Then it was back onto the van to drive back to Krakow airport. It was a bit of an exciting trip as we were delayed when someone's car blew up in a fireball not far ahead of us on the motorway (no one was hurt). No other events of note as I flew back to London.
Conclusion: I would highly, highly recommend Slovakia for a solo hiking trip, or any other kind of trip. The public transportation through the High Tatras is excellent and very cheap. There is plenty of accommodation both in the towns and mountains. The other beautiful thing about hiking in the High Tatras in Slovakia is that all the trails are magnificently organized and signed. There are trailhead signs everywhere, always mounted on these tree-like branched posts with little roof-hats on them. The trails are colour-coded, so you are following the red trail, the blue trail etc (note colours do not correspond to difficulty level). The signs will indicate the end point of the hike and even the approximate length of time it will take you. The trails themselves are regularly blazed with the trail colour. If you're a hiker but haven't tried hiking in a foreign country, Slovakia would be a great introduction.
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Day One - Getting There: I arrived at Krakow airport where the vehicular transfer to Poprad, Slovkia was arranged. There are direct flights to Poprad from London UK, where I live, but I think they are only 2x a week at the moment (I heard more are coming). Poprad-Tatry airport is about 4km to Poprad centre and you would need a taxi/car to get there. You can also fly into Bratislava and take a train to Poprad-Tatry station, the journey is 3.5-4 hours and one way is about 15 euro. The train operators are ZSSK (state-owned) and Leo or RegioJet (private-owned). Flixbus is another option. There is no direct train from Poland into Slovakia because of the mountainous border. The trip from Krakow to Poprad by road took about 3.5 hours and was pleasantly scenic, especially once we hit the border. I almost missed where we crossed the border because there's nothing but a tiny sign by the side of the road.
Accommodation: The accommodation in Poprad was a penzion, a type of small hotel or guesthouse, typically family-run and often including breakfast. There's tons of these in Poprad and they are quite affordable, plenty under £50/night and a few that are hostel-priced. This one was on the north side of Poprad on the edge of the old town and walking distance to the train station. The old town in Poprad is tiny, just a handful of streets around a main square. It was virtually empty whenever I saw it, but I gather it gets busier in high season. There are some good restaurants there. We met our local Slovak guide at the penzion and had a welcoming drink of a traditional plum slivovitz and she took us to dinner in the old town.
Day Two - Strbske Pleso to Popradske Pleso Hike: On our first day of hiking we headed to Strbske Pleso (pleso = mountain lake or tarn), a resort village where there are plenty of trailheads. We had a van transfer, but you don't need this at all thanks to the miracle that is the TEZ or Tatranská elektrická železnica (Tatra Electric Railway), a brilliant little two-car electric train that runs between all the major resort villages/trail centres in the High Tatras. There are 2 lines, one going Poprad – Starý Smokovec – Štrbské Pleso and the other Starý Smokovec – Tatranská Lomnica. For 4 euro you can buy a whole-day, hop-on-hop-off ticket, what a bargain! The train is modern, spotless and very well organized. You can buy a ticket at Poprad-Tatry main station either from a ticket agent or ticket machine. Once on the train you need to punch the ticket in a little machine, then it's good for the day. There are electric signs showing the route and upcoming stations, as well as announcements in both Slovak and English (the English announcements have an Aussie accent which I found very amusing). Where the lines meet, all the trains arrive at once and wait five minutes for passengers to change, then depart. The only drawback is that they are once per hour. They weren't very busy during my trip, but I've read in peak season they can become so rammed not everyone can get on.
Back to the hike! It started on the north edge of the resort and led up through an area called Rázcestie Trigan. We passed a studnička or well, which was a miniature wooden house with a spring flowing out of it, which we drank from. We ended up in the Mengusovská Dolina (valley) on the shore of Popradske Pleso, a stunning mountain lake. There is a lodge here where you can eat and rent basic rooms if you are on a multi-day hike. There is NO SWIMMING which is the case in all nature reserves in the Tatras, you are not supposed to put your feet in or even really touch it or get fined, this is to preserve the ecology. Two other hikers and I decided to hike the loop around the lake while others explored around the lodge. The views from the other side were gorgeous, just postcard-perfect. Then we descended back down to the village using a slightly different trail that followed the Poprad River and went over a bridge with a beautiful view of the rushing water before rejoining the outbound trail. Back in Strbske Pleso we went for lunch, and I had roast fallow deer, which was delicious. In the evening some of us walked into Poprad centre for dinner and had a traditional beef goulash, and beer. There was a lot of beer on this trip. It is generally served in two sizes, normal size for around 2 euro and then giant monster size for 3-4 euro. Note that a lot of Slovakian beer will say 11%, 12% etc on the bottle or menu but that is NOT the alcohol percentage, the guide explained that is more like the strength of taste.
Day Two - Biela Voda to Zelené Pleso: Again we had a van transfer to a road drop-off/car park with a shelter called Biela Voda (white water). If you are travelling by public transport, you can do a very similar hike to Zelené Pleso (Green Lake) from the resort village of Tatranská Lomnica which is just a bit west of where we started. The beginning of this hike was a long slog uphill but it followed the river Kezmarska Biela Voda with some beautiful views of the rapids. Once we were up high above the Dolina Zeleného Pleso there were incredible views of the mountains and valleys along a winding track that still had snow pack in some places and water rushing past my feet in others as it melted. At the end was the lake itself which was crystal clear and sparkling, green in the sun, surrounded by steeply rising mountains on three sides and tumbling into the valley on the fourth. Of course, there was a lodge with accommodation serving delicious food where I ate lentil and bean soup, and followed it up with a huge mug of stewed raspberries and cream. I wandered around the lake by myself (no touching!) before we headed back the same way we came, just ahead of an incoming rainstorm.
Day Three - Train-Hopping, Beer-Tasting and Cable Cars: The third day was our free, unplanned day and it was absolutely pouring rain. Half the group decided to go to a spa in Poprad, but two others and I decided we wanted to see more of Slovakia, rain or no rain. We decided to buy the all-day TEZ ticket and just go village to village, seeing what we could see. First we went to Starý Smokovec, another resort village, and ended up doing a short, very wet hike up to Hrebienok - in retrospect we should have taken the funicular up, as it was so cloudy there were no views to be had and the trail basically just ran alongside the funicular track. At the top we discovered Bilikova Chata, a delightful chalet-style lodge clothed in wood and animal heads, where we drank mulled wine and dried out. Then it was back down to the train station and onto Tatranská Lomnica, where we found a pub serving Slovak craft beer from Pálffy Brauerei just outside Bratislava. So we had a beer tasting, 6 beers for 8.50 euro and not small samples either! I also ate spinach dumplings with kôprová omáčka, a creamy sour dill sauce I thought was amazing. Last, myself and one other hiker decided to take the cable car to Skalnaté pleso, an alpine lake halfway up the mountain. Note: cable cars are the only thing that's not cheap in Slovakia, to go to the lake was 29 euro, to go to the top is 70. As we went up, everything disappeared into the mist and it was as if we were floating through nothingness. At the top we saw a few people heading back down and then we were alone on the edge of this icy lake, with visibility only about ten metres in the mist and rain. We hiked around the lake (it is very small) and there was still quite a bit of snowpack. It was very eerie. Apparently there are magnificent views all around, but we could see nothing but boulders and the edge of the water in the mist. We headed back down after that and returned to the penzion, where I had tasty venison sausage for dinner.
Day Four - Hrebienok Waterfall Trail: On day four the sun was shining again and with our guide we took the TEZ to Starý Smokovec. As the train crossed the valley floor outside of Poprad, a falcon flew at window level alongside us for a minute, what an amazing sight! We went up to Hrebienok again, but I was smart this time and took the funicular. We stopped again for mulled wine at Bilikova Chata, and then it was onto the trail to see a series of beautiful waterfalls. That day was a national holiday in Slovakia and the trails were extremely busy compared to the first hikes, where we saw very few people. The trail showcases a number of waterfalls in the group of cascades called the Vodopády Studeného potoka. Some of them were huge and one had a little bridge which crossed over the turbulent water. At the end point of the hike was the Rainerova Chata, the oldest mountain hut in the High Tatras built in 1863. It is tiny and can fit about six people max inside. Inside is stuffed with amazing memorabilia from throughout the decades, including a collection of painted cowbells strung from the ceiling. It was extremely busy here, lots of schoolkids, so we ate our packed lunch quickly and then headed back down. Back in Starý Smokovec, our guide asked us if we would like to have an hour to ourselves. A few of us asked what she likes to do after a hike, and she said she always got a coffee in the Grand Hotel Starý Smokovec. We joined her and it was amazing, a very old-school European style hotel, very plush and luxurious, felt very "Grand Budapest Hotel". I had a hot chocolate with fruit on the bottom, an invention I intend to duplicate at home. That evening the guide took us out to dinner in Poprad new town and we started off with a shot of fruit brandy that was so strong it triggered my asthma! To eat I had bryndzové halušky, tiny potato dumplings in a strong sheep cheese sauce which was was one of my favourite meals the whole trip.
Day Five - Departure: Sadly this was our last day and we had only the morning in Poprad so we headed into the new town and had some locally made ice cream - I had apple which is a flavour I've never had in ice cream before. Then it was back onto the van to drive back to Krakow airport. It was a bit of an exciting trip as we were delayed when someone's car blew up in a fireball not far ahead of us on the motorway (no one was hurt). No other events of note as I flew back to London.
Conclusion: I would highly, highly recommend Slovakia for a solo hiking trip, or any other kind of trip. The public transportation through the High Tatras is excellent and very cheap. There is plenty of accommodation both in the towns and mountains. The other beautiful thing about hiking in the High Tatras in Slovakia is that all the trails are magnificently organized and signed. There are trailhead signs everywhere, always mounted on these tree-like branched posts with little roof-hats on them. The trails are colour-coded, so you are following the red trail, the blue trail etc (note colours do not correspond to difficulty level). The signs will indicate the end point of the hike and even the approximate length of time it will take you. The trails themselves are regularly blazed with the trail colour. If you're a hiker but haven't tried hiking in a foreign country, Slovakia would be a great introduction.
2024.05.26 17:10 OtherwiseAside5305 Mugshots Are Ruining Lives and Careers. Even Leading to Suicide. Richmond Hill's "The Georgia Gazette" is the Primary Culprit. A New Law Will Make Mugshots Before Conviction Illegal.
 | "We should not be posting mug shots before a peron is convicted. " Georgia Representative Ron Stephens“An 18-year-old committed suicide because they did not have the money to get the mugshot removed, and he could not get a job,” said Tyrone Democrat Rep. Derrick Jackson. There's a law that prevents sheriff's departments from publishing mugshots, but that hasn't stopped The Georgia Gazette from posting them, and profiting from them. The Richmond Hill based website and its publisher, Matthew Sayle are largely responsible for mocking people in their worst moment, most of whom are not even convicted of a crime, or who are completely innocent. Like revenge porn, once a mugshot is published, it's almost impossible to get it removed. Sayle seems to revel in mocking and humilating people, and makes it nearly impossible to have a mugshot removed once he publishes it. Lawmakers have been active in writing legislation addressing the mugshots for profit industry and introduced House Bill 882 in 2023 that will ban them. Sadly, it didn't get passed, but Representatives like Ron Stephens are supportive of passing a law this year that will ban The Georgia Gazette, and other publishers from posting mugshots of those not convicted of a crime. We've banned revenge porn, it's time to ban mugshots from publication before conviction. Full article on mugshots for profit: https://poorandpissed.wordpress.com/2024/04/04/mugshots-for-profit-the-georgia-gazette-exploits-the-freedom-of-information-act-as-it-ruins-reputations-and-lives/ https://preview.redd.it/v6f9yb0hds2d1.jpg?width=1382&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=1a6045c4d12a83b4deea027aa727edcaac103af3 |